The Overland Monthly
Vol. L — Second Series
July-December, 1907
The OVERLAND MONTHLY CO., Publishers
Offices — 773 Market Street, Sah Francisco
F
. o
INDEX
.ALDIS DUNBAR
FREMONT OLDER
ALOYSIUS COLL
.ERNESTINE WINCHELL
CLYDE EDWIN TUCK
MARY E. SNYDER
STELLA F. WYNNE
INA COOLBRITH
PIERRE N. BERINGER
ADMONITION.. Verse.
A GLIMPSE OF THE BATTLE
Illustrated with photographs.
A WARNING.. Verse
AN EPISODE OF THE FLOAT LANDS. Story
AUGUST. Verse
A TRIP TO CUERNAVACA ....
Illustrated with photographs.
AN IDYLL OF THE CIRCLE L. Story
Illustrated by W. R. Borough.
ALCATRAZ (A New Poem) ....
A NEW ERA IN THE PHILIPPINES
Illustrated with photographs.
A MEDIEVAL ROMANCE ....
Illustrated with sketch by Alice Resor.
AT THE GOLDEN HORN AND THE GOLDEN GATE CLINTON SCOLLARD
Verse
"BARBIZON" OF CALIFORNIA, THE (III.) .
BUCKAROO JIM.. Story
Illustrated by W. R. DeLappe
CALL OF THE WHISTLE, THE. Story
CANDLE-STARS OF CHRISTMAS TIME, THE Verse
CONFESSIONS OF A STENOGRAPHER
Illustrated with photographs.
CLIMBING FUJI
Illustrated with photographs.
CAMPING OUT IN CALIFORNIA ....
CHRISTENING, THE. Verse
CHRISTMAS STORY, THE. Verse ....
COLLEGE AND THE WORLD ....
Illustrated with photographs.
A BUSINESS MAN'S VIEW OF COLLEGE .
JUST OUT OF COLLEGE ....
WHY I AM GOING TO COLLEGE
COWBOYS ASTRAY. *Story
Illustrated by W. R. Davenport
CALIFORNIA. Verse
DAISY FIELD, THE (Poem)
DEATH VALLEY
DECORATING DEL MONTE HEIGHTS .
Illustrated with photographs.
DEFENDING THE PACIFIC COAST
Illustrated with photographs.
DEATH ON THE MARSHES.. Verse
DIGNITY OF DOLLARS, THE. Essay .
DUMFRIES: THE HAMLET OF ROBERT BURNS
Illustrated with photographs.
DR. TAYLOR— SEVENTY YEARS YOUNG
DRAMATICS. The New World of the Play
Illustrated with photographs.
DREAMS OF ARCADY. Verse .....
DOWN AT THE WOMAN'S CLUB.. Verse . .
EUROPEAN HOTELS
Illustrated with photographs.
EL CAMINO REAL. Verse
FORESTER AND HIS WORK, THE (III)
FREED FROM THE DESPOT OF DAGH (III.)
FAME TURNED FLIRT
FIGHTING A FORTY-POUND WEAKFISH (III.).
24
546
118
145
156
182
361
537
463
483
504
JOSEPHINE MILDRED BLANCH 63
HERBERT COOLIDGE 317
JOHN KENNETH TURNER 603
MARY OGDEN VAUGHAN 602
101
ANNIE LAURA MILLER 221
ROCKWELL D. HUNT 236
FLORENCE RICHMOND 610
MARY OGDEN VAUGHAN 586
270
HARRIS WEINSTOCK 270
DENISON HALLEY CLIFT 274
BERTRAM WELLS 278
HERBERT COOLIDGE 285
ALMA MARTIN 509
EMMA PLAYTER SEABURY 80
ALFRED DAVIS 81
WASHINGTON DAVIS 119
ARTHUR H. DUTTON 199
RAYMOND SUMNER BARTLETT 292
JACK LONDON 592
KATHERINE ELWES THOMAS 596
L. B. JEROME 542
JULIAN JOHNSON 379
BEN FIELD 417
"JAC ' LOWELL 482
FRED GILBERT BLAKESLEE 123
M. TINGLE 384
ALLEN H. HODGSON 20
FELIX J. KOCH 41
F. G. MARTIN 49
F. L. HARDING • 53
•471 U
ffencroh Libntfjr
X D E X.
FRONTISPIECE
FROM TOKIO TO KOBE
Illustrated with photographs.
FRONTISPIECE. — Statue of Father Junipero Serra
GIPSIES OF THE SEA. Verse ....
"GRANDMA" VARNER and "TOMMY"
Photograph by F. P. Stevens.
HYPOCRISY. Poem
HIGH PpLITICS IN OHIO
Drawing by R. W. Borough.
HON. EDWARD ROBESON TAYLOR— A PERSONAL
APPRECIATION
HOUSE OF SANTA CLAUS, THE. Story
HOW THE RECLAMATION SERVICE IS ROBBING
THE SETTLER . . .
IN SANCTUARY. Poem
IN THE LAIR OF THE BEAR
IN THE CANYON'S DEPTHS. V erse
IN DEL GADDO PLACE. Story ....
Illustrated by Clyde Cooke.
IN NEW SUMMER LANDS ;
Photographs by the author.
IN THE CALCIUM LIGHT.
Delmas — Always a Gentleman ....
The New Governor of New Mexico
IN THE CALCIUM LIGHT.
Mr. Hearst as an Employer
Illustrated with Portrait.
IN THE REALM OF BOOKLAND ....
KELLEY OF THE TRANS-MOJAVE
Illustrated with photographs.
LETTERS. Poem
LITTLE MUSKY'S STORY. Story ....
Illustrated by Eloise J. Roorbach.
LOVE'S AWAKING. Verse . . .
MY PLACE. Verse
MONTEREY WAKES UP
MY MYSTERIOUS PATIENT
NEGLECT. Verse
NEW OIL WELLS AT MONTEREY
Illustrated with photographs.
ON SAN GABRIEL'S BANKS . . ...
ON THE HOME TRAIL. Story ....
OVER THE HILLS. Verse . . . . .
OBSCURITY. Verse
OUR SURFMEN
Photographs furnished by S. I. Kimball.
OCTOBER. Verse
ON THE OREGON TRAIL. Story ....
PEDDLERS AND PACK HORSES IN MEXICO (III.)
PATIENCE OF JOB, THE ......
PRESENTING JULY'S ACTRESSES AND ACTORS
PORTRAIT OF FRANCIS J. HENEY
Drawn by R. W. Borough.
PETER PAN. Verse . . . .
"PERSONALLY CONDUCTED" ....
Illustrated by R. E. Snodgrass.
PROTECTED CRUISER MILWAUKEE .
PERILS OF BIG GAME HUNTING . .
Illustrated with photographs.
REBUILDING OF THE BURNED DISTRICT OF SAN
FRANCISCO (III.) ....
REMINISCENCES OF SAN FRANCISCO
REFLECTIONS. Editorial Comment
RESTITUTION. Verse
RUDOLPH SPRECKELS— THE GENIUS OF THE
SAN FRANCISCO GRAFT PROSECUTION
Illustrated with Portrait.
RUEF, A JEW UNDER TORTURE ....
Illustrated with Portrait.
SIEGFRIED— OF THE CHICORICA RANGE Story
TACOMA— FOR AMBITIOUS MEN . .
Illustrated with photographs.
"Railways for Tacoma," by R. F. Radebaugh. — "A
roofe, A. R. I. B. A. — "What Made Tacoma," by C.
City," by Arnott Woodroofe.
E RAWING BY L. B. HASTE 294
CHARLES LORRIMER 309
396
RAYMOND BARTLETT 168
ELIZABETH A. KELLY 255
SAMUEL G. HOFFENSTEIN 40
WASHINGTON DAVIS 209
PETER ROBERTSON 539
MAY C. RINGWALT 581
L. M. HOLT 510
CHARLES FRANCIS SAUNDERS 76
M. GRIER KIDDER 91
AD. H. GIBSON 144
EDITH KESSLER 170
FELIX J. KOCH
BY ONE OF HIS EMPLOYEES
FELIX J. KOCH
DONALD V. TOBEY
CLARENCE HAWKES
DONALD A. ERASER
MABEL PORTER PITTS
WASHINGTON DAVIS
BETTY PARKER SMITH
W. G. TINCKOM-FERNANDEZ
BURTON WALLACE
H. FELIX CROSS
MAUDE DE COU
HELEN FITZGERALD SANDERS
DONALD B. TOBEY
JOANNA NICHOLLS KYLE
MARION COOK
FRANK H. SWEET
G. F. PAUL
JAMES WILLIAM JACKSON
238
471
473
557
520
139
57
247
328
207
391
513
210
522
19
123
186
259
260
293
367
25
69
85
FRONTISPIECE
W. G. T1NCKOM FERNANDEZ
W. GILMORE EEYMER
188
190
COL. W. S. LANIER
FRONTISPIECE
455
CHARLTON LAWRENCE EDHOLM 56
THE EDITOR 194
337
ARNO DOSCH
"Q.-
ETHEL SHACKELFORD
HENRY PEARSON
City of Homes," by Arnott Wood-
E. Ferguson. — "Tacoma — A Garden
477
I
514
587
561
F
,0-4$
v, TO
INDEX
.ALDIS DUNBAR
FREMONT OLDER
ALOYSIUS COLL
.ERNESTINE WINCHELL
CLYDE EDWIN TUCK
MARY E. SNYDER
STELLA F. WYNNE
INA COOLBRITH
PIERRE N. BERINGER
MARK TWAIN
ADMONITION.. Verse.
A GLIMPSE OF THE BATTLE
Illustrated with photographs.
A WARNING.. Verse
AN EPISODE OF THE FLOAT LANDS. Story
AUGUST. Verse
A TRIP TO CUERNAVACA ....
Illustrated with photographs.
AN IDYLL OF THE CIRCLE L. Story
Illustrated by W. R. Borough.
ALCATRAZ (A New Poem) ....
A NEW ERA IN THE PHILIPPINES
Illustrated with photographs.
A MEDIEVAL ROMANCE ....
Illustrated with sketch by Alice Resor.
AT THE GOLDEN HORN AND THE GOLDEN GATE CLINTON SCOLLARD
Verse
"BARBIZON" OF CALIFORNIA, THE (III.) .
BUCKAROO JIM.. Story
Illustrated by W. R. DeLappe
CALL OF THE WHISTLE, THE. Story
CANDLE-STARS OF CHRISTMAS TIME, THE Verse
CONFESSIONS OF A STENOGRAPHER
Illustrated with photographs.
CLIMBING FUJI '
Illustrated with photographs.
CAMPING OUT IN CALIFORNIA ....
CHRISTENING, THE. Verse
CHRISTMAS STORY, THE. Verse ....
COLLEGE AND THE WORLD ....
Illustrated with photographs.
A BUSINESS MAN'S VIEW OF COLLEGE .
JUST OUT OF COLLEGE ....
WHY I AM GOING TO COLLEGE
COWBOYS ASTRAY, "story
Illustrated by W. R. Davenport
CALIFORNIA. Verse
DAISY FIELD, THE (Poem)
DEATH VALLEY
DECORATING DEL MONTE HEIGHTS .
Illustrated with photographs.
DEFENDING THE PACIFIC COAST
Illustrated with photographs.
DEATH ON THE MARSHES.. Verse
DIGNITY OF DOLLARS, THE. Essay .
DUMFRIES: THE HAMLET OF ROBERT BURNS
Illustrated with photographs.
DR. TAYLOR— SEVENTY YEARS YOUNG
DRAMATICS. The New World of the Play
Illustrated with photographs.
DREAMS OF ARCADY. Verse .
DOWN AT THE WOMAN'S CLUB.. Verse
EUROPEAN HOTELS
Illustrated with photographs.
EL CAMINO REAL. Verse
FORESTER AND HIS WORK, THE (III)
FREED FROM THE DESPOT OF DAGH (III.)
FAME TURNED FLIRT
FIGHTING A FORTY-POUND WEAKFISH (III.).
21
546
118
145
156
182
361
537
463
483
504
JOSEPHINE MILDRED BLANCH 63
HERBERT COOLIDGE 317
JOHN KENNETH TURNER 603
MARY OGDEN VAUGHAN 602
101
ANNIE LAURA MILLER 221
ROCKMrELL D. HUNT 236
FLORENCE RICHMOND 610
MARY OGDEN VAUGHAN 586
270
HARRIS WEINSTOCK 270
DENISON HALLEY CLIFT 274
BERTRAM WELLS 278
HERBERT COOLIDGE 285
ALMA MARTIN 509
EMMA PLAYTER SEABURY 80
ALFRED DAVIS 81
WASHINGTON DAVIS 119
ARTHUR H. DUTTON 199
RAYMOND SUMNER BARTLETT 292
JACK LONDON 592
KATHERINE ELWES THOMAS 596
L. B. JEROME 542
JULIAN JOHNSON 379
BEN FIELD 417
"JAG' LOWELL 482
FRED GILBERT BLAKESLEE 123
M. TINGLE 384
ALLEN H. HODGSON 20
FELIX J. KOCH 41
F. G. MARTIN 49
F. L. HARDING • 53
471 12
JBftncruti Libraqr
X D E X.
FRONTISPIECE
FROM TOKIO TO KOBE
illustrated with photographs.
FRONTISPIECE. — Statue of Father Junipero Serra
GIPSIES OF THE SEA. Verse ....
"GRANDMA" VARNER and "TOMMY"
Photograph by F. P. Stevens.
HYPOCRISY. Poem
HIGH PpLITICS IN OHIO
Drawing by R. W. Borough.
HON. EDWARD ROBESON TAYLOR— A PERSONAL
APPRECIATION
HOUSE OF SANTA CLAUS, THE. Story
HOW THE RECLAMATION SERVICE IS ROBBING
THE SETTLER . . .
IN SANCTUARY. Poem
IN THE LAIR OF THE BEAR
IN THE CANYON'S DEPTHS. V erse
IN DEL GADDO PLACE. Story ....
Illustrated by Clyde Cooke.
IN NEW SUMMER LANDS ;
Photographs by the author.
IN THE CALCIUM LIGHT.
Delmas — Always a Gentleman . . . .
The New Governor of New Mexico
IN THE CALCIUM LIGHT.
Mr. Hearst as an Employer
Illustrated with Portrait.
IN THE REALM OF BOOKLAND ....
KELLEY OF THE TRANS-MOJAVE
Illustrated with photographs.
LETTERS. Poem
LITTLE MUSKY'S STORY. Story ....
Illustrated by Eloise J. Roorbach.
LOVE'S AWAKING. Verse ...
MY PLACE. Verse
MONTEREY WAKES UP
MY MYSTERIOUS PATIENT
NEGLECT. Verse .
NEW OIL WELLS AT MONTEREY
Illustrated with photographs.
ON SAN GABRIEL'S BANKS . . .
ON THE HOME TRAIL. Story ....
OVER THE HILLS. Verse . . . . .
OBSCURITY. Verse
OUR SURFMEN
Photographs furnished by S. I. Kimball.
OCTOBER. Verse
ON THE OREGON TRAIL. Story ....
PEDDLERS AND PACK HORSES IN MEXICO (III.)
PATIENCE OF JOB, THE
PRESENTING JULY'S ACTRESSES AND ACTORS
PORTRAIT OF FRANCIS J. HENEY
Drawn by R. W. Borough.
PETER PAN. Verse . . . .
"PERSONALLY CONDUCTED" ....
Illustrated by R. E. Snodgrass.
PROTECTED CRUISER MILWAUKEE .
PERILS OF BIG GAME HUNTING ....
Illustrated with photographs.
REBUILDING OF THE BURNED DISTRICT OF SAN
FRANCISCO (III.) ....
REMINISCENCES OF SAN FRANCISCO
REFLECTIONS. Editorial Comment
RESTITUTION. Verse
RUDOLPH SPRECKELS— THE GENIUS OF THE
SAN FRANCISCO GRAFT PROSECUTION
Illustrated with Portrait.
RUEF, A JEW UNDER TORTURE ....
Illustrated with Portrait.
SIEGFRIED— OF THE CHICORICA RANGE Story
TACOMA— FOR AMBITIOUS MEN . .
Illustrated with photographs.
"Railways for Tacoma," by R. F. Radebaujh. — "A
roofe, A. R. I. B. A. — "What Made Tacoma," by C.
City," by Arnott Woodroofe.
E RAWING BY L. B. HASTE
CHARLES LORRIMER
RAYMOND BARTLETT
ELIZABETH A. KELLY
SAMUEL G. HOFFENSTEIN
WASHINGTON DAVIS
PETER ROBERTSON
MAY C. RINGWALT
L. M. HOLT
CHARLES FRANCIS SAUNDERS
M. GRIER KIDDER
AD. H. GIBSON
EDITH KESSLER
. FELIX J. KOCH
BY ONE OF HIS EMPLOYEES
FELIX J. KOCH
DONALD V. TOBEY
CLARENCE HAWKES
DONALD A. FRASER
MABEL PORTER PITTS
WASHINGTON DAVIS
BETTY PARKER SMITH
W. G. TINCKOM-FERNANDEZ
BURTON WALLACE
H. FELIX CROSS
MAUDE DE COLT
HELEN FITZGERALD SANDERS
DONALD B. TOBEY
JOANNA NICHOLLS KYLE
MARION COOK
FRANK H. SWEET
G. F. PAUL
JAMES WILLIAM JACKSON
294
309
396
168
255
40
209
539
581
510
76
91
144
170
238
471
473
557
293
367
25
69
85
FRONTISPIECE
W. G. T1NCKOM FERNANDEZ
W. GILMORE BFJYMER
188
190
COL. W. S. LANIER
FRONTISPIECE
455
CHARLTON LAWRENCE EDHOLM 56
THE EDITOR 194
337
ARNO DOSCH
"Q.-
ETHEL SHACKELFORD
HENRY PEARSON
City of Homes," by Arnott Wood-
E. Ferguson. — "Tacoma — A Garden
477
I
514
587
561
r x D E x.
THEATRE OF OSCAR WILDE, THE
TANGENT OF A TiFF, THE
THE FIRST ASCENT OF MT. SHUKSAN
Illustrated with photographs.
THE PRINCESS. Verse
THE SKY AND THE SEA AND THE EARTH. Verse S. M. SALYER
ARCHIBALD HKXDERSON
LIZZIE GAINES WILCOXSON
ASAHEL CURTIS
ALPHONSO BENJAMIN BOWERS
THE EXILE. Verse
THE MRS. AND I VISIT PISA
Illustrated with photographs.
TO MT. TAMALPAIS. Verse
THE LOVE OF CHANCE. Story
THE WESTERN CALL. Verse .
THE SUCKERS' SATURDAY NIGHT. Story
THE ROMANCE OF TANKY GULCH. Story
THE PASSING pF THE BUFFALO .
Illustrated with photographs.
THE RED HEADED TWINS OF DOS PALOS.
Illustrated by W. R. Davenport.
THE LAND OF ART, SPORT AND PLEASURE
THE REVENGE OF THE BLUE HORDE. Story
Illustrated by W. R. Davenport
THE ENDING. Story
THE MAN WHp INSPIRED "RAMONA"
Illustrated with photographs.
THE GOLD OF SUN DANCE CANYON
Illustrated by Clyde Cooke
THE SALT OF EARTH
Illustrated by L. B. Haste.
THE BIG BASIN . .
Illustrated by the author.
THE DES MOINES PLAN OF CITY GOVERNMENT
THE NEMESIS. Story
THE ICEBERG'S BIRTH. Verse ....
EDWIN MARKHAM AND HIS ART ....
Illustrated with portraits.
TEN CENTS TO THE FERRY
Illustrated by W. R. Davenport.
THE SANTA BARBARA MISSION ....
Illustrated With drawings and photographs.
THANK GOD FER "CALIFORNY" ....
TO A WILD ROSE. Verse
THE ANGELUS. Verse
Heard at. the Mission Dolores, 1868.
THE PACIFIC COAST AND THE PANAMA CANAL
Illustrated with photographs.
THE POET. Verse
THE VENGEANCE OF THE WILD ....
TO PERCY BYSSHE 'SHELLEY. Verse
THE SHELL MAN
Illustrated with line drawings.
UNLIMITED ELECTRIC POWER ....
UNCLE ABE'S DAY DREAM. Verse
I 'ra wings by R. E. Snodgrass.
UMEKO SAN. Story
Illustrated by R. E. Schad.
"UNTO THE LEAST OF THESE" ....
Illustrated with photographs.
VILLA LIFE ON CAPRI
Illustrated with photographs.
WILD APPLE BLOSSOMS. Poem ....
WITH OVERLAND'S POETS.
"The Muezzin," by James Berry Bensel. — "Our Teddy." — "To a Pioneer," by Helen
Fitzgerald Sanders. — "How Vain is Life," translation by Blanche M. Burbank. — "This is
Wisdom," by John Thorpe. — "St. Christopher," by Raymond Sumner Bartlett. — "I Had
a Dream of Mary" (III.) by Ruth Sterry. — "A Melody," by Myrtle Conger.
WEST, THE. Poem C. S. COLEMAN
WORLD'S GREATEST TELESCOPE, THE (III.) FLORENCE CROSBY PARSONS
WIND ON THE SEA. Verse
WAR AND THE COMMODORE ....
Drawings by R. E. Snodgrass.
WHERE THE ORIENT MEETS THE OCCIDENT
Illustrated with photographs.
WHAT THE CATHOLIC CHURCH HAS DONE FOR
SAN FRANCISCO HAMILTON \VKICHT AND
Illustrated with photographs. F. MARION GALLEGHER
WASTED SWEETS. Verse HENRY WALDORF FRANCIS
WHAT THE BOY KNOWS. Verse
"YO NO QUIERO CASAR." Verse . . AGNES M. MANNING
F. W. K.
WALT INGERSOLL
RUTH PRICE
A. E. LONG
MADELINE HUGHES PELTON
CHARLTON L. EDHOLM
ELIZABETH LAMBERT WOOD
JASON J. JONES
Story FRANCES LA PLACE
ARTHUR H. BUTTON
CLARENCE HAWKES
JENNET JOHNSON
LOUIS J. STELLMAXX
C. JUSTIN KENNEDY
ROBERT W. HARTWELL
ELOISE J. ROORBACK
SIDNEY J. DILLON
DON MARK LEMON
CHARLOTTE W. THURSTON
HENRY MEADE BLAND
LEO LEVY
SAMUEL NEWSOM
ALICE D. O. GREENWOOD
FLORENCE SLACK CRAWFORD
JOSEPH R. KNOWLAND
DONALD A. FRAZER
HERBERT ARTHUR STOUT
LANNIE HAYNES MARTIN
AMANDA MATHEWS
Bl'KTOX WALLACE
JAY C. POWERS'
OLIVE DIBERT
KATHERIXK M. NESFIELD
MARGARET ASHMUN
ARTHUR POWELL
HORATIO LANKFORD KING
HAL. JACKSON
77
110
544
122
127
131
133
134
138
149
153
157
163
176
178
233
252
301
324
329
331
333
350
360
377
395
119
454
186
482
505
289
322
343
549
493
32
68
73
246
371
385
397
461
470
475
Rebuilding Views of New San Francisco
The Theatre of Oscar Wilde
BY ARCHIBALD HENDERSON
The "Barbizon" of California
BI JOSEPHINE MILDRED BLANCH
15 CENTS
SAN FRANCISCO
Teresa
Carreno
During her 1907-08 American Tour
will exploit the merits of the lEfcerrtt Piano,
which in its rich tonal quality — its plenitude
of artistic and poetic beauty — appeals to the
world's great artists.
The lEfamtt is the piano of CARRENO,
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Bispham, Cabrilowitsch, Gampanari and a
host of others whose places are secure in
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The tiftittttt has but one standard — the highest — in both Upright and ,Grand formp.
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Style 3 — Upright
t Factory, Boston —
$450 00
500 00
Style 9 — Upright .
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Style 8 — Upright
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Style 7 — Upright
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Style 25 — Grand
650 00
Style 31— Grand
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Style 41 — Grand
. . 1200 00
Special Art Cat
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A Word About Terms
Our arrangement with dealers is such that purchase
may be made on reasonable terms to suit the circum-
.stances or convenience of the customer.
Style 32
THE JOHN CHURCH COMPANY
CINCINNATI CHICAGO
Owners of The Everett Piano Co., Boston, Mass.
NEW YORK
Please Mention Overland Monthly in Writing Advertisers.
TIFFANY & Co.
Fifth Avenue and 37th Street, New York
Loving Cups
A large assortment of sterling silver loving cups in Tiffany & Co.'s
exclusive designs, not sold by the trade or through other dealers
English Sterling Quality, 925/1000 fine
4^ inches high, 3 handles - $18
5 " 2 " 24
6 "3 " 38
Others $45, $70, $85 upward
Special drawings, upon short notice, of prizes suitable for coaching
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Bowls
for fruit, salads, berries, etc. Sterling silver with rich relief work
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Comparison of Prices
Tiffany & Co. always welcome a comparison of prices. This ap-
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silverware, watches, clocks, bronzes, and other objects, on all of
which their prices are as reasonable as is consistent with the
standard of quality maintained by the house
Tiffany & Co. 1907 Blue Book
A compact catalogue without illustrations— 621 pages of concise
descriptions with an alphabetical side index affording quick access
to the wide range of Tiffany & Co.'s stock, with the minimum and
maximum prices at which articles may be purchased. — Blue Book
sent upon request
Fifth Avenue New^brk
15 Cents Per Copy. $1.50 Per Year.
Overland Monthly
An Illustrated Magazine of the West.
July, 1907
Rebuilding of the Burned District of San Francisco (111.) 1
Theatre of Oscar Wilde, The Archibald Henderson 9
On San Gabriel's Banks //. Felix Cross 19
Forester and his Work, The (111.) Allen H. Hodgson 20
Admonition (Poem) Aldis Dnnbar 24
Peddlers and Pack Horses in Mexico (111.) . . 0-. F. Paul 25
Wild Apple Blossoms (Poem) Margaret Ashmun 32
Stuff that was in Him, The Ara Shane Curtis 33
Hypocrisy (Poem) Samuel G. Hoffenstein 40
Freed from the Despot of Dagh (111.) . . .Felix J. Koch 41
Fame Turned Flirt F. G. Martin 49
Fighting a Forty-Pound Weakfish (111.) .F. L. Harding 53
Eeminiscences of San Francisco Charlton Lawretue Edholtn 56
Letters (Poem) Donald V. Tobey 57
Sea Foam (111.) E.J.R 58
Sheepherder's Nemesis, The Colin V. Dyment 60
"Barbizon" of California, The (111.) . . .Josephine Mildred Blanch 63
West, The (Poem) C. 8. Coleman 6S
Patience of Job, The James William Jackson 69
World's Greatest Telescope, The (111.) . .Florence Crosby Parsons . . . .• 73
In Sanctuary (Poem) Charles Francis Sounders 76
Tangent of a Tiff, The Lizzie Gaines Wttco.rson 77
Daisy Field, The (Poem) Emma Playter Seabury 80
Death Valley Alfred Davis ' 81
Ships, The (Poem) Aloysius Coll 84
Presenting July's Actresses and Actors 85
In the Lair of the Bear . . .M. Grier Kidder 91
All communications in relation to manuscripts intended for publication, and business con-
nected with the magazine, should be addressed to the OVERLAND MONTHLY CO — and not
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Overland Monthly
NO. 1
July, 1907
VOL. L
BY ARCHIBALD HENDERSON
IF this age of topsy-turvydom — the
age of Nietzsche, Shaw, Carroll,
Wilde, Chesterton — criticism mas-
querades in the garb of iconoclasm; and
fancy, fantasy, caprice and paradox usurp
the roles of scholarship, realistic valua-
tion, and the historic sense. The ancient
and honorable authority of the critic is
undermined by the complacent scepticism
of the period. And the gentle art of ap-
preciation is only the individual filtration
of art through a temperament. The mania
for certitude died with Renan, confidence
had its lost leader in Carlyle, and author-
ity relinquishes its last and' greatest ad-
herent in the recent death of Brunetiere.
The ease of blasphemy and the commer-
cialization of audacity are accepted facts;
we have lost the courage and simplicity
for the expression of truth, unvarnished
and unadorned. "We know we are bril-
liant and distinguished, but we do not
know that we are right. We swagger in
fantastic artistic costumes; we praise
ourselves; we fling epigrams right and
left; we have the courage to play the ego-
tist, and the courage to play the fool, but
we have not the courage to preach." The
symbol of art is no longer a noble muse,
but only a tricksy jade. Criticism, once
the art of imaginative interpretation, is
now mere self-expression — the adventures
of a soul among masterpieces. We are ex-
pected to believe that the greatest pictures
are those in which there is more of the ar-
tist than the sitter. The stigmata of cur-
rent criticism are well expressed by a bril-
liant Frenchman — Charles Nodier, was
it not? — in the opinion that if one stops
to inquire into the probabilities, he will
never arrive at the truth !
The world has never seen an age in
which there was more excuse for question-
ing the validity of contemporary judg-
ment. It would be the height of folly to
expect posterity to authenticate the vapor-
ings of an appreciation which, in shifting
its stress from the universal to the person-
nel, has changed from criticism into col-
loquy, from clinic into causerie. Indeed,
it is nothing less than a truism that the
experience of the artist in all ages, ac-
cording to the verdict of history, is iden-
tical with itself. In the words of Sidney
Lanier :
" * * * the artist shall put forth,
humbly and lovingly, the very best and
highest that is within him, utterly regard-
less of contemporary criticism. Wihat pos-
sible claim can contemporary criticism
set up to respect — that criticism which
crucified Jesus Christ, stoned Stephen,
hooted Pa-ul for a madman, tried Luther
for a criminal, tortured Galileo, bound
Columbus in chains, drove Dante into ex-
ile, made Shakespeare write the sonnet,
'When in disgrace with fortune and men's
eyes/ gave Milton five pounds for 'Para-
dise Lost/ kept Samuel Johnson cooling
his heels on Lord Chesterfield's doorstep,
reviled Shelley as an unclean dog, killed
Keats, cracked jokes on Gluck, Schubert,
Beethoven, Berlioz and Wagner, and com-
mitted so many other impious follies and
stupidities that a thousand letters like
this could not suffice even to catalogue
them?"
It was Mr. Bliss Perry who charmingly
10
OVEELAND MONTHLY.
revealed to us the shades and nuances of
literary fashion. And yet — the dicta of
literary cliques, the voice of literary predi-
lection often ring false to the ears. The
verdict of the intellectuels is a veritable
stumbling block in the path of genius. "It
is from men of established literary repu-
tation/' asserts Bernard Shaw, "that we
learn that William Blake was mad; that
Shelley was spoiled by living in a low set;
that Eobert Owen was a man who did not
know the world ; that Ruskin is incapable
of comprehending political economy; that
Zola is a mere blackguard, and Ibsen .is
Zola with a wooden leg. The great musi-
cian accepted by his unskilled listener, is
vilified by his fellow musician. It was the
musical culture of Europe which pro-
nounced Wagner the inferior of Mendels-
sohn and Meyerbeer."
It is not enough to say, with the bril-
liant author of "Contemporains," that
contemporary criticism is mere conversa-
tion; it is often little more than mere
gossip. One is often inclined to question,
with Lowell, whether the powers that be,
in criticism, are really the powers that
ought to be. Especially is this true of a
time uniquely characterized by its ten-
dency to relentless rehabilitation. No dia-
bolic sinner in literary history is now
safe in his grave. He is in perpetual dan-
ger of being the innocent victim of our
pernicious habit of sainting the unsainted,
of saving the damned. The immoral
iconoclast of a former age becomes the
saintly anarch of this. The jar of lamp-
black is exchanged for a bucket of white-
wash; and in this era of renovation the
soiled linen of literary sinners emerges
translucent and immaculate from the
presses of the critical laundry. The True
William Blake, the True Jean Jacques
Eousseau, the True Byron, the True
Shelley, the True Nietzsche, are risen
from the dead. And we are darkly and
irretrievably given over to the pernicious
palaverings of those whom Mr. Eobert
W. Chambers has aptly termed "repairers
of reputations."
I.
In view of the premises, it may appear
at once paradoxical and perverse to at-
tempt any criticism at all, especially of
the works of a decadent like Oscar Wilde,
whose mere name is a synonym for the ap-
palling degeneracy of an age lashed by
the polemics of Ibsen, the abjurgations of
Tolstoy, the satire of Shaw, and the in-
vective of Nordau. All that pertains to
Wilde has for long been res tacenda in
polite society; and he himself, to use his
own phrase, has passed from a sort of
eternity of fame to a sort of eternity of
infamy. The current revival of interest
in Wilde finds its source in many recent
brochures and biographies. In general,
these have been fatally marred by wrong-
headed, unhealthy defense and attempted
justification of certain indefensible epi-
sodes in his life. Only in Germany, in
the hands of Carl Hagemann, Max Meyer-
feld and Hedwig Lachmann, and in
France through the balanced appreciation
of Henri de Eegnier and Jean Joseph -
Eenaud, has Wilde met with critical and
discriminating judgment, not of his life
and progressive degeneration, but of his
mentality, his mind, and art. The fatal
flow of current criticism, as Brunetiere
says, is that we do not see our contempor-
aries from a sufficient height and distance.
That we are unable to profit by what
Xietzsche terms the "pathos of distance,'''
is a deficiency that can't be remedied. But
at least it is the prerogative of art, pe-
culiarly of the art of criticism, to make
the attempt, if not to fix the position, cer-
tainly to express judgment upon the work
of our contemporaries. The grievous error
of Wilde's latest biographer is found in
the fact that, in his effort to reveal to us
Wilde the man, he was forced into count-
less recitals and admissions which, despite
any plea however speciously worded,
could only prove damaging and disastrous
to the already infamous reputation of
his subject ("The Life of Oscar Wilde,"
by E. H, Sherard; Mitchell Kennedy,
N. Y.) If there is any spectacle more
disquieting than what Macaulay called
"the British public in one of its periodical
fits of morality," it is the spectacle of an
Englishman speciously attempting an eva-
sion of the fundamental precepts of just
conduct and right living. Indeed, the
only raison d'etre of any treatment of
Wilde is the conscientious proposition of
the question whether the work, and not
the life, of Wilde, is worthy of genuine
critical study. If we are to accept the
judgment of the art centers of Europe,
there is no mistaking the fact that their.
THE THEATRE OF OSCAR WILDE.
11
verdict is unhesitatingly in the affirma-
tive. Many of Wilde's works have been
translated into a number of foreign ton-
gues ; and certain of his plays have taken
the European capitals by storm. In
France, Germany, Austria and Spain, his
essays have won a laudation little short of
panegyric. "De Profundis" has already
taken its place as a marvelous evocation of
an etat d'ame ; and "The Ballad of Head-
ing Gaol" is generally recognized as a
great achievement, conspicuous alike for
sombre realism and tragic horror. Wilde's
fairy tales are unusually accepted as
dainty mirrors of the imaginative, poetic
artist at his highest and best.
The tendency of humanity, after a
sufficient lapse "of time, is to overlook
many faults in the man who possesses the
virtue proper to his own profession — to
overlook dissipation in the brave soldier,
intolerance in the compassionate priest,
harshness in the successful ruler. One
might even recall that frail woman in the
Bible who was forgiven — because she
loved much. In art, as in life, much vir-
tue inheres in the professional conscience ;
and the peccable artist in all ages has
been granted a hearing on account of his
unfaltering love of art. "If one loves art
at all," Wilde once wrote, "one must love
it beyond all other things in the world,
and against such love the reason, if lis-
tened to it, would cry out. There is noth-
ing sane about the worship of beauty.
It is something entirely too splendid
to be sane. Those of whose lives it forms
the dominant note will always seem to the
world to be pure visionaries." And with
all his affection of singularity, his as-
sumption of the "dangerous and delight-
ful distinction of being different from
others," his joyous treading of "the
primrose path of self-exploitation," his
esthetic posturing, charlatanry and
blague — Wilde was assuredly a personality
of whose life art formed the dominant
note.
II.
In any study of the works of Wdlde — es-
pecially of his plays, which have not re-
ceived any save casual and desultory treat-
ment in English — it is desirable, in so far
as may be possible, to isolate the man
from his works. Thus one may be enabled
to view them, not at all in relation to
Wilde's life, but solely from the stand-
point of their validity and authenticity
as works of art. Bernard Shaw has
naively confessed that the chief obstacle
to the success of his plays has been him-
self ! For totally different reasons, the
chief obstacle to the study of Wilde's
plays has been himself. The "insincer-
itv" of this artist in attitudes was, in his
own words, simply a method by which he
could multiply his personality. "Man is
least himself when he talks in his own
person. Give him a mask and he will tell
you Ihe truth." There is no means of es-
caping the everlasting return of life upon
art — art, the mirror which the Narcissus
of artists holds up to himself. Let us,
however, remember with Novelis that he
who is of power higher than the first is
probably a genius, and with Nietzsche,
that "all that is profound loves a mask."
And even if, occasionally and unwittingly,
we traverse the circuit from art to life, nt
least we may have the satisfaction of
making the attempt to dissociate the
merits of the dramatist from the de-
merits of the man.
In 1882, Wilde wrote to Mr. R. D'Oyly
Carte, manager of the Savoy Theatre,
London, that his play, "Vera; or The
Nihilists," was meant not to be read, but
to be acted. This opinion has never re-
ceived any support from either critic or
public. Written when Wilde was only
twenty-two years old ("The New York
World, August 12, 1883). this play early
enrolled him under that drapeau ro-
mantigue des jeunes guerriers, of which
Theophile Gautier speaks, yet the time
doubtless came when Wilde regarded
"Vera," as he certainly regarded his first
volume of poems, merely in the light of a
perche de jeunesse. Unlike Ibsen, Pinero
or Phillips, Wilde was fortified by expe-
rience neither as actor nor manager ; there
is no record that he ever, like Shaw, acted
even in amateur theatricals! A cousin in
near degree to W. G. Wills, the dramatist,
painter and poet, Wilde may have derived
his dramaturgic gifts in some measure
from this source. In youth he learned the
graceful arts of conversation in the bril-
liant salon of his mother, Lady Wilde;
and his predilection for the dialogue form
was early revealed in certain of his criti-
cal essays. The play "Vera" ushers us
into the milieu of Henry Seton Merri-
OVEELAND MONTHLY.
man's "The Sowers.," but it bears all the
fantastic ear-marks of the yellow-backed
fustian of the melodramatic fictionist,
Marchmont. One might easily imagine
it to be the boyish effusion of a romantic-
youth in this present day of Von Plehve,
Gorki and the Douma. "As regards the
play itself," wrote Wilde to the American
actress, Marie Prescott, in July, 1883, "I
have tried in it to express within the lim-
its of art that Titan cry of the peoples for
liberty which in the Europe of our day, is
threatening thrones and making Govern-
ments unstable from Spain -to Eussia, and
from north to southern seas. But it is a
play not of politics, but of passion. It
deals with no theories of Government,
but with men and women simply; and
modern Nihilistic Eussia, with all the ter-
ror of its tyranny, and the marvel of its
martyrdoms, is merely the fiery and fer-
vent background in front of which the
persons of my dream live and love. With
this feeling was the play written, and
with this aim should the play be acted."
Despite these lofty and promising words,
the play warrants no serious consideration
— even though it won the admiration of
Lawrence Barrett himself. A pseudo-
Volksdrama, "Vera" images the conflict
between despotism and socialism, between
a vacillating, terror-obsessed Czar and a
Eussian Charlotte Corday. The "love in-
terest" inheres in the struggle of the
Czarevitch, in sympathy with the people,
between his duty to the Empire and his
love for the Nihiliste Vera. But instead
of creatures of flesh and blood, looming
solid in a large humanity, we see only thin
cardboard profiles — bloodless puppets
shifted hither and thither, as with Sar-
dou, at the bidding of the mechanical
showman. One-sided in the possession of
only one feminine role, the play is largely
taken up with interminable, longeurs of
pointless persiflage between superfluous
characters ; and this is destructive for a
Wilde who has not yet mastered the arts
of epigram, paradox and repartee. The
denouement, in which Vera, chosen by lot
to assassinate the young Czarevitch now
become Czar, whom she passionately loves,
turns upon her own breast the dagger
meant for him, and then tosses it ove^
the balcony to the ravening conspirators
below with the cry "I have saved Eussia"
— this is the very acme of the theatric in
its worst sense, the very quintessence of
Adelphi melodrama. Xot inapposite,
perhaps, was the characteristic paragraph
in "Punch" (December 10, 1881), under
"Impressions du Theatre :"
"The production of Mr. Oscar Wilde's
play 'Vera' is deferred. Naturally, no
one would expect a Veerer to be at all
certain; it must be, like a pretendedly in-
fallible forecast, so very weathercocky.
'Vera' is about Nihilism; this looks as if
there was nothing in it. But why did
Mr. 0. Wilde select the Adelphi for his
first appearance as a dramatic author, in
which career we wish him cordially all the
success he may deserve? Why did he not
select the Savoy? Surely where there's a
donkey cart — we should say D'Oyly
Carte — there ought to be an opportunity
for an 'Os-car?" (On the point of be-
ing produced in London in December,
1881, under the management of Dion
Boucicault, with Mrs. Bernard-Beere in
the title role, "Vera" was suddenlv with-
drawn, possibly for political reasons.
Shortly afterwards, Wilde made his lec-
ture tour in America and endeavored to
place his play on the boards during his
stair in this country, but without success.
Produced in New York on August 20,
1883, with Marie Prescott, G. C. Boni-
face, Lewis Morrison and Edward Lamb
in the leading roles, the play proved a
complete failure, and was never after-
wards revived. Compare Decorative Art
in America (Brentanos) pp. 195-6, and
E. H. Sherard's "Life of Oscar Wilde"
(Kennerly), p. 221.)
In the Wilde of the "third period," as
he described himself in 1883, is revealed
a strangely different man from the apos-
tle of aestheticism. If he has not learned
to scorn delights, at least he has learned
to live laborious days. He takes up his
quarters at the Hotel Voltaire in Paris,
and though still guilty of "affectation in
his assumption of the cane and cowl of
Balzac, yet he takes the great French mas-
ter for his model and disciplines himself
to that unremitting labor which, in Bal-
zac's view, is the law of art. Eecall the
precious anecdote of Wilde over his manu-
script— deleting a comma in the fore-
noon and re-inserting it in the afternoon.
In these days of the comet, the theatrical
star, for whom parts are especially writ-
ten— "Cyrano" for Coquelin; "Vanna"
THE THE ATE E OF OSCAR WILDE.
13
for Mme. Maeterlinck; "The Sorceress"
for Bernhardt, and "Cicely" for Terry —
Wilde thought to play his part in writing
"The Duchess of Padua" for Mary An-
derson. (This statement is made on the
authority of Mr. R. H. Sherard, but Wilde
himself once wrote (Letter to The Times,
London, March 3, 1893) : "I have never
written a play for any actor or actress, nor
shall I ever do so. Such work is for the
artisan in literature, not for the artist.")
This was a play laid in the 16th century —
century of Paolo and Francesca, of
Dante and Malatesta — century of tears
and terror, of poetry and passion, of mad-
ness and blood. It is a tale, in five acts,
of the love of the gentle Beatrice, Duchess
of Padua, and of the young Guido Fer-
ranti, sworn to avenge the inhuman mur-
der of his noble father at the hands of the
old and heartless duke, the husband of
Beatrice. In milieu and accessories, the
play is laid out along the lines of Eliza-
bethan drama — of "Romeo and Juliet,"
for example — or more properly of Brown-
ing's "Luria," of Maeterlinck's "Monna
Vanna," of D'Annunzio's "Francesca da
Rimini." Its interest and charm consist
far less in its subject than in its spiritual
and emotional content — the violently
transitional moods of romantic passion.
Ferranti and Beatrice have just confessed
their love for each other, when the pre-
arranged message comes to Ferranti that
the hour to strike down the Duke is come.
He tears himself away from Beatrice in
definitive farewell, with poignant agony,
crying out that a certain insurmountable
obstacle stands in the way of their love.
That night, as he pauses outside the door
of the Duke's chamber, meditating upon
assassination, there comes to Ferranti the
belated recognition not only that he can
never approach Beatrice again with the
blood of the murdered Duke upon his
hands, but that such a revenge is deeply
unworthy of the memory of his noble
father. But as Anael comes forth from
the murder of the Prefect to her Djabal,
comes forth Beatrice to her Guido. Under
the tyranny of her love for Guido, she
herself has slain the Duke, to whom she
was ever but a worthless chattel — the
Duke, the sole obstacle to the fulfillment
of her passion. Guido recoils from her
upon whose hands is the blood which he
himself had solemnly refused to shed.
And although Beatrice is transformed,
like Juliet into a very "Von Moltke of
love," she cannot, with all the mustered
array of her forces, storm the bastion of
Guido's soul. So sudden and so supreme
is her own revulsion of feeling that she
denounces Ferranti to the passers-by as
the murderer of her husband. Follows
the trial of Ferranti for his life — a scene
memorable for its undulation of emotional
process, the conflicting fears and hopes of
the heart-wrung Duchess, and the crisis,
Ferranti's confession, against which the
Duchess has fought with every available
weapon in fear of the truth — Ferranti's
false confession that the murderer is none
other than himself. Visiting the con-
demned Ferranti in his cell, the heart-
broken Duchess, in the excess of her spirit-
ual agony, takes poison, and Guido, real-
izing at last the inner, essential nobility
of her character, avows for her his undy-
ing love, and dies upon the point of his
dagger.
"The Duchess of Padua" is remarkabla
for instrumentation of feeling, its glow
of youthful fire, the delicate and rare
beauty of its imagery. It links itself ^o
Hardy and to Whitman rather than to
Shakespeare in its intimation of "purity
of purpose as the sole criterion of deed;"
for here Wilde, concerned less with the
primitive bases of individuality than with
the fundamental impulses of human
nature, reveals life as fluid and self-con-
tradictory. "In every creature," writes
Hedwig Lachmann, "lurks the readiness
for desperate deeds. But when all is over,
man remains unchanged. His nature does
not change, because for a moment he has
been torn from his moorings. The river
glides back into its bed after the stormy
waters, which forced its overflow, have
run their course." Like Maeterlinck's
Joyzelle, Beatrice is forgiven, not because
"Who sins for love sins not," but because
she has loved much. In Wilde's own dan-
gerous words — in "The Soul of Man un-
der Socialism," written some eight years
later : "A man cannot always be estimated
by what he does. He may keep the law
and yet be worthless. He may break the
law, and yet be fine. He may be bad
without ever doing anything bad. He
may commit a sin against society, and vet
realize through that sin his true perfec-
tion." As Maeterlinck has told us, jus-
14
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
tice is a very mysterious thing, residing
not in nature nor in anything external,
but, like truth, within ourselves.
In "Vera," Wdlde, with 'prentice hand,
unsuccessfully attempted to picture the
dramatic conjuctures and crises arising
whea
" * * the giant wave Democracy
Breaks on the shores where kings lay
couched at ease."
"The Duchess of Padua," his next play,
is endowed with poetic qualities of rare
opulence, imbued with resonant emotional
instrumentation. It is in this play, as
Mr. William Archer has justly said, that
Wilde reveals himself a poet of very high
rank. Nothing is easier, and therefore
possibly more misleading, than to say
ce n'est pas du theatre, for the tests of its
suitability for the stage have been incon-
clusive. It is true that, to Wilde's intense
disappointment, this play was refused by
Mary Anderson, but it was afterwards
produced in the United States by Law-
rence Barrett with moderate success. (Al-
though announced as in preparation in the
Publishers' List of 1894, "The Duchess of
Padua" was actually not published until
ten years later — in the fine German trans-
lation of Dr. Max Meyerfeld of Berlin. In
addition to its production in America with
Lawrence Barrett and Mina Gale in the
leading roles, there have been two produc-
tions on the Continent. At Hamburg,
Germany, in December, 1904, where it
was produced under the most adverse
circumstances, the play proved a failure,
being withdrawn after three nights. And
when it was produced in Berlin early in
1906 it was killed by the critics, resulting
in a heavy loss for its champion, Dr.
Meyerfeld. The play is now to be pro-
cured in the original English version (The
Plays of Oscar Wilde, 3 vols., John W.
Luce & Co., Boston.)
The play which, by reason of its imagi-
native coloring, naturally falls into the
category of "Vera" and "The Duchess of
Padua," rather than into that of the
society comedies, is Wilde's meretricious
one-act drama, "Salome," which fur-
nished the libretto for the gruesome and
perverted music-drama of the great com-
poser, Richard Strauss, recently with-
drawn from the stage of the Metropolitan
Onera House in New York. One may re-
call that it was Wilde's pleasure, during
his frequent visits to Paris, to delight the
French world of art and letters with bril-
liant causeries. The masterly ease and
exquisite purity of his French were a mar-
vel to all who heard him. Wilde once
explained the idea he had in mind in
writing the play of "Salome" in French:
"I have one instrument that I know I
can command, and that is the English
language. There was another instrument
to which I had listened all my life, and I
wanted once to touch this new instrument
to see whether I could make any beautiful
thing out of it. * * Of course, there are
modes of expression that a Frenchman of
letters would not have used, but they give
a certain relief or color to the play. A
great deal of the curious effect that
Maeterlinck produces comes from the fact
that he, a Flamand by grace, writes in an
alien language. The same thing is true
of Rossetti, who, though he wrote in Eng-
lish, was essentially Latin in tempera-
ment." (The Pall Mall Gazette, June 29,
1892.)
Wilde was strongly influenced by Hero-
dias, one of Gustave Flaubert's "Trois
Gouts," in which the death of Jokanaan
is the result of the insatiable hatred of
Herodias; it is at her instigation that
Salome dances for the head of the nrophet.
At the time he was writing this play,
Wilde said to the Spanish critic, Gomez
Carillo : "If for no other reason, I have
always longed to go to iSpain that I
might see in the Prado Titian's Salome,
of which Tintoretto once exclaimed : 'Here
at last is a man who paints the very
quivering flesh !' v And Carrillo men-
tions that only Gustave Moreau's portrait
unveiled for Wilde the "soul of the
dancing princess of his dreams." But
whatever alien influences may have been
at work upon him, certain it is that he
has given the story an interpretation in-
dividual in its abnormality. Like Poe,
like Bandelaine, like Maeterlinck, he has
sought to reveal to us, with masterful,
if meretricious artistry, le beau dans I'Tior-
rible.
Salome is a fevered dream, a poignant
picture — it is like one of those excursions
into the macabre with which Wilde suc-
ceeded in fascinating the Parisians. In it
one discerns, as in a sheet of pale, quiver-
THE THEATRE OF OSCAR WILDE.
15
ing lightning, the revolting decadence of
an age when vice was no prejudice and
sensuality no shame. As in a piece of
music, we hear the resonance of passion,
and the reverberations of obscure, half-
divined emotions; as in a picture, we feel
rather than see the decadent genius of its
tone and atmosphere; as in a lyric poem,
jangled and out of tune, we shudder ingly
shrink from the spell of its mood — what
Hagemann calls "eine bezwingende, satte
Stimmung." The characters stand forth
in chiseled completeness from the rich
Galilean background like the embossed
figure of the malady of that age; and
insatiable, sensual Herodias, symbolic
figure of the maladv of that age; and
Herod, the Tetrarch, obsessed with pro-
foundly disquieting inclinations to unlaw-
ful passion, ;who ultimately cuts at a
single blow the Gordian knot of his prob-
lem, for the untying of which he lacks
for the time being both courage and moral
power. Like Hebbel's Daniel, Jokanaan
is a wonderfully realized figure — 'the in- .
carnation of a primitive, intolerant pro-
phet— commanding rapt attention far less
by what he says or does than by what he
is. And then there is Salome — young,
fair, impressionable, upon the very thresh-
old of womanhood. Recall the young
Syrian's description of her, hauntingly
reminiscent of the Maeterlinck of "Pel
leas and Melisande": "She is like a dove
ihat has strayed * * she is like a narcissus
trembling in the wind * * she is like a
silver flower * * her little white hands
are fluttering like doves that fly to their
dove-cotes. They are like white butter-
flies.'5 At first, she is unmoved by any
strangely perverse, nameless passion for
the forbidden. But as in a dream, a mem-
ory of forgotten, yet half-divined reality,
love wakens under the mystic spell of
Jokanaan's presence, and his scorn, his
anathemas, his obiurgations, rouse to
life and to revolt within her the dormant
instincts of an Herodias. She will sing
the swan song of her soul in the paean of
the dance, and for the sake of revenge will
so ensnare the weak, unnatural Herod in
the meshes of her perilous beauty that he
can refuse her nothing — even though it
were the half of his kingdom. But when
her revenge is sated and the head of Jo-
kanaan in her hands, the world swims in
a scarlet haze before her eyes ; and though
lust, scorn, revenge and death meet in that
terrible kiss, the hour of her own fate has
struck. Impressive, awful, imperial,
Herod speaks the words: "Kill that
woman!" Salome, daughter of Herodias,
Princess of Judea, is crushed beneath the
shields of the soldiers, and her death
sounds the death knell of a decadent and
degenerate age. A new epoch of culture
is at hand.
In Salome, Wilde depicts a crystallized
embodiment of the age, rather than the
age itself. The influence of Maeterlinck is
inescapable in the simplicity of the dia-
logue, in the iterations and reverberations
of the hit motifs. As Wilde himself said,
Salome is a piece of music — (with its pro-
gressive crescendo, emotional paean and
tragic finale. To the naturalism of sen-
sation is super-added stylistic symmetry,
and, in places, what Baudelaire called la
grace supreme litteraire. But the effect of
the play, even in the reading, is to focus
attention upon abnormal states of feeling,
indicative of decadence and degeneracy,
and this impression is doubtless multiplied
a thousand-fold by the "argument of the
flesh," and the potent instrumentalities of
music and the stage. (There seems to be
no foundation for the statement of E. Go-
mez Carrillo, in his "El Origen de la
Salome de Wilde," the preface to the
Spanish translation of Salome, that this
play was written for Sarah Bernhardt.
The play was written in Paris at the turn
of the year 1891-2 ; and Wilde himself said
to an interviewer (June, 1892) : "A few
weeks ago I met Madame Sarah Bern-
hardt at Sir Henry Irving's. She had
heard of my play, and asked me to read it
to her. I did so, and she at once expressed
a wish to play the title-roll." For infor-
mation concerning the marvelous success
of this play upon the Continent, compare
"Decorative Art in America" (Brentanos,
N. Y.) ; "Oscar Wilde," by Carl Hage-
mann (J. C. C. Bruns' Verlag, Minden
in Westf ) ; "Oscar Wilde, by Hedwig
Lachmann (Schuster and Loeffler, Ber-
lin and Leipzig) ; "Oskar Wilde," by
Halpdan Langgaard (Axel Juncker Ver-
lag, Stuttgart), and "The Life of Oscar
Wilde," by R. H. Sherard (Mitchell Ken-
neriy, N. Y.) See also Wilde's letter to
Robert Ross (De Profundis, German
translation by Max Meyerfeld, S. Fis-
cher, Berlin, pp. 101-2) of date March
16
OVEBLATO MONTHLY.
10, 1896, in which he expresses his pro-
found appreciation for. the production of
'•'Salome" by Lugne Poe at the Theatre
de 1'Oeuvre, Paris. "Salome" was trans-
lated into English by Lord Alfred Doug-
las, and quite fittingly illustrated by the
exotic artist, Aubrey Beardsley.)
III.
The four society comedies which Wilde
wrote in rapid succession, which immedi-
ately gained huge success in England, and
have since been played to vastly apprecia-
tive audiences in America and in Europe,
are so similar in style, treatment and ap-
peal as to warrant discussion as an unique
genre. (These four comedies are "Lady
Windermere's Fan," produced for the first
time at the St. James's Theatre, London,
on February 22, 1892, by Mr. George
Alexander and his company; "A Woman
of No Importance," produced for the first
time at the Haymarket Theatre, London,
by Mr. H. Beerbohm Tree, on April 19,
1893 ; "An Ideal Husband," produced for
the first time at the Theatre Eoyal, Hay-
market, London, on January 3, 1895;
"The Importance of Being Earnest," pro-
duced for the first time at the St. James's
Theatre, London, on February 14, 1895,
by Mr. George Alexander and his com-
pany.)
In the category of the great drama of
the day qua drama — Ibsen, Hauptmann,
Sudermann, Hervieu, Schnitzler — they
have no place, in that they are in no sense
conditioned by the fundamental laws of
the drama. They are utterly deficient in
masterly portraiture of character, the
plav and interplay of vital emotions, and
that indispensable conflict of wills and
passions without which drama is mere
sound and fury, signifying nothing. By
reason of his esthetic idleness and luxury
as a faineant, Wilde was incapable of sus-
tained and laborious p re-occupation with
his art work; it was true, though sound-
ing like the vainest of poses, that even
when his life was freest from business
cafes he never had, as he put it, either
the time or the leisure for his art. In
the deepest sense, he lacked what Walter
Pater called the responsibility of the artist
to his material ; although this is not to
say that he failed to recognize, from the
standpoint of style, the beauty of the
material he employed, and to use that
beautv as a factor in producing the es-
thetic effect. Like Thomas Griffiths
Wainewright, he sought to put into prac-
tice the theory that "life itself is an art,
and has its modes of styles no less than the
arts that seek to express it." And the
great drama of his life, as he confessed to
Andre Gide, was that he had given his
genius to his life, to his work only his
talent.
Indeed, there is no term which so per-
fectly expresses the tone of Wilde's come-
dies as nonchalance. The astounding
thing is, that in his sincere effort to amuse
the public, he best succeeded with that
public by holding it up to scorn and ridi-
cule with the lightest satire. One of the
most self-revelative of his paradoxes is
the opinion that life is far too serious ever
to be discussed seriously. "If we are to
deliver a philosophy," says Mr. Chester-
ton, in speaking of contemporary life, "it
must be in the manner of the late Mr.
Whistler and the ridentem dicere verum.
If our heart is to be aimed at, it must be
with the rapier of Stevenson, which runs
through without either pain or puncture."
If our brain is to be aroused, he might
have added, it must be with the scintillat-
ing paradox and enlivening epigram of
Oscar Wilde. Horace Walpole once said
that the world is a comedy for the man
of thought, a tragedy for the man of
feeling. He forgot to sav that it is a farce
for the man of wit. It was Wilde's creed'
that ironic imitation of the contrasts,
absurdities and inconsistencies of life, its
fads and fancies, its quips and cranks, its
follies and foibles, give far more pleasure
and amusement than faithful portraiture
of the dignifr of life, its seriousness and
profundity, its tragedy, pitv and terror.
His comedies are marked, not by consis-
tency in the characters, continuity of pur-
pose, or unity of action, but only by per-
sistence of the satire vein and prevalence
of the comic mood. Like Flaubert, WRlde
gloried in demoralizing the public, and
he denied with his every breath Sidney
Lanier's dictum that art has no enemy so
unrelenting as cleverness. His whole lit-
erary career was one long, defiant chal-
lenge to Zola's pronunciamento :
"L'Homme de genee n'a jamais d' esprit"
While the dialogue of Wilde's comedies,
as the brilliant Viennese critic, Hermann
Bahr, has said, contains more verve and
THE THEATRE OF OSCAR WILDE.
17
than all the French, German and
Italian comedies put together, nevertheless
our taste is outraged because Wilde makes
no effort -to paint character and employs
a conventional and time-worn technique.
Wilde's figures are lacking in vitality and
humanity; it is impossible to believe in
their existence.
They are mere mouthpieces for the
diverting ratiocinations of their au-
thor, often appearing less as personalities
than as personified customs, embodied
prejudices and Conventions of 'English
life. By means of these pallid figures,
Wilde has at least admirably succeeded in
interpreting certain sides of the English
national character. The form of his
comedies approximates to that of the best
French farces, but his humor sounds a
genuine British note. There is no es-
caping the impression, however, that his
characters are automatons and puppets —
masks which barely suffice to conceal the
lineaments of Wilde. Here we see the
raisonneur as we find him in Dumas fils,
or in Sudermann. It is in this way thai
Wilde identifies his characters, not with
their prototypes in actual life, but with
himself.
As Bernard Shaw may be said to have
invented the drama of dialectic, so Oscar
Wilde may be said to have invented the
drama of conversation.
Jean Joseph Renaud and Henri de Reg-
nier have paid eloquent tributes to Wilde
as a master of the causerie. A great lady
once said of him : "When he is speaking, I
see round his head a luminous aureole."
The mere exaggeration of the phrase is
testimony to Wilde's maestria in utterance
of golden words. He was a slave to the
Scheherazade of his fancy, and was un-
sparingly lavish in the largess of his wit.
He realized that he was a past-master in
the gentle art of making conversation, and
he nonchalantly ignored Goethe's pre-
cept: "Bilde, Kunstler, rede nicht!" Phe
result is, that he does not construct, but
only sets off a mine. His art is the ex-
pression of his enjoyment of verbal pyro-
technics. To use Baudelaire's phrase, he
wrote comedies pour etonner les sots, and
the height of his pleasure was epater les
bourgeois. The result in his comedies,
while vastly diverting, is deplorable from
the standpoint of dramatic art. For the
conversations are disjointed, and, in the
dramatic sense, incoherent, in that they
live only for the moment, and not at all
for the sake of elucidation and propul-
sion of the dramatic process. The com-
parison with Shaw in this particular im-
mediately suggests itself, but the fun-
damental distinction consists in the fact
that whereas in Shaw's comedies the con-
versation, witty and epigrammatic to a
degree, is strictly germane to the action,
with Wilde the conversation, with all its
sparkling brilliancy, is in fact subsidiary
and beside the mark. As Hagemann has
justly said, in Wilde's comedies the accent
and stress is thrown wholly upon the epi-
grammatic content of the dialogue.
What, after all, is the secret of Wilde's
success? What is the quintessence of his
art as a dramatist? For, say what one
will, Wilde's comedies were — and are —
immensely successful; and his plays,
whether comedy or tragedy, are art even
if they are not always drama. Hermann
Bahr refused to consider Wilde as frivol-
ous, maintaining that his paradoxes rest
upon a profound insight into humanity.
"Wilde says serious and often sad things
that convulse us with merriment, not be-
cause he is not 'deep,' but precisely be-
cause he is deeper than seriousness and
sadness, and has recognized their nullity.-''
Perhaps the name with which Wilde's is
most frequently coupled is that of his fel-
low countryman and fellow townsman,
Bernard Shaw. And it is interesting to
read Shaw's characterization of Wilde,
with whose unique artistic views and liter-
ary methods he has many points of con-
tact :
"Ireland is, of all countries, the most
foreign to England, and to the Irishman
(and Mr. Wilde is almost as acutely Irish
as the Iron Duke of Wellington), there
is nothing in the world ouite so exquisite-
ly comic as an Englishman's seriousness.
It becomes tragic, perhaps, when the Eng-
lishman acts on it; but that occurs too
seldom to be taken into account, a fact
which intensifies the humor of the situa-
tion, the total result being the English-
man utterly unconscious of his real self,
Mr. Wilde keenly observant of it, and
playing on the self-unconsciousness with
irresistible humor, and finallv. of course,
the Englishman annoyed with himself for
being amused at his own expense, an-I
for being unable to convict Mr. Wilde
18
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
of what seems an obvious misunderstand-
ing of human nature. He is shocked, too,
at the danger to the foundations of society
when seriousness is publicly laughed at.
And to complete the oddity of the situa-
tion, Mr. Wilde, touching what he him-
self reverences, is absolutely the most
sentimental dramatist of the day. — The
Saturday Review, January 12, 1895.)
At bottom and in essence, Wilde is a
master of the art of selection. He is
eminently successful in giving the most
diverting character to our moments as
thev pass. His art is the apotheosis of the
moment; and what mav not be said, he
once asked, for the moment and the "mo-
ment's monument ?" Art itself, he averred,
is "really a form of exaggeration, and
selection, which is the very spirit of art,
is nothing more than an intensified mode
of over-emphasis." Wilde was a painter,
Neo-Tmpressionist. From the palette of
his observation, which bore all the radiant
shades and colors of his temperament, he
selected and then laid upon the canvas
manv brilliant yet distinct points of
color. When seen in the proper light and
from the just distance, the canvas takes
on the appearance of a complete picture —
quaint, unique, marvelous. It is only by
taking precisely Wilde's point of view that
the spectator is enabled to synthesize the
isolated brilliant points into an harmoni-
ous whole. Oscar Wilde is a Paintilliste.
Wilde called one of his plays "The Im-
portance of Being Earnest." In his in-
verted way, he aimed at teaching the world
the importance of being frivolous. Only
from this standpoint is it possible to ap-
preciate, in any real sense, Wilde the
comic dramatist. Wilde is the arch enemy
of boredom and ennui; we can always
enjoy him in his beau role as a purveyor
of amusement and a killer of time. "I
took the drama — the most objective form
which art recognizes/' he said in De
Profundis, "and made of it an individual
genre, like the lyric poem or the sonnet;
thereby I widened its scope and enriched
it with new characteristics." This is true
of "Salome," the exotic, decadent flower
of that art which Maeterlinck tentatively
initiated in 'La Princesse Maleine," but
subsequently resigned in "Monna Vanna."
It is also true that his comedies approxi-
mate to a new genre, peculiarly Wilde's
own invention. But we are warned by his
own confession not to take Wilde, as
dramatist, too seriously. "The plays are
not great," he once said to Andre Gide.
"I think nothing of them — but if you only
knew how amusing they are!" And the
author of "The Decay of Lying" added:
"Most of them are the results of bets !"
BY H. FELIX CROSS
Where the river rushes swift
Thro' the canyon's rocky rift,
Go I angling 'neath the tangling alder trees that skyward lift,
And with rod and willow reel,
Soft to some deep pool I steal,
Cast, and lo ! the crystal waters yield a leaping, finny gift.
0 the wild joy of it all
By the splashing waterfall,
While from out his piney cradle sharp the tree squir'l sounds
his call;
Wihile the sunshine thro' a rent
In the alder's dark, green tent,
Flashes, glancing on the dancing, swirling pool below the fall.
While the eagle, soaring wide,
Swift the roaring blast does ride,
Circling round sky-piercing peaks green-clad with pines on every
side;
And the mocking-bird his song
Blithely warbles clear and strong;
And the locust sends his echoes ringing from the mountain side !
In the waning light of day,
Back to camp I wend my way,
And the shining sun reclining sends a slanting golden ray.
Stealing o'er the peaks it glides;
Pink and purple color tides
Softly fading, darker shading, and in the dying of the day.
Eound the camp-fire's flick'ring gleam,
Smiling, happy faces beam,
In the glancing light the dancing shadows dusky spectres seem;
And old songs and stories old
Are remembered, sung and told.
While the fairies hold their revels in the moonlight on the
stream.
Now the moon does vigil keep,
Twinkling eyes of heaven peep
Thro' the leaf-bow'r of the camp, around the peaks the night
mists creep,
Song and laughter now are still,
Silence echoes from the hill,
And sweet dreams flit softly round us, for the camp is locked in
sleep.
Monrovia, Cal.
BY ALLEN H. HODGSON
A view of Mt. Lassen.
THE early forests of America were
the result of nature's unaided
forces working for countless ages.
Their grandeur and magnitude were un-
surpassed by any other country. This
condition did not last, however, for with
the coming of the early pioneers, whose
only thought about trees was to cut them
down, there began a gradual destruction
of the forests. The indifference of tha
past Americans toward the preservation
of the forests for the benefit of future
generations is being realized. The greit
business and forest interests of the nation
have been joined together. The American
people have at last begun to value their
timbered regions, and desire their protec-
tion. Forest reserves have been estab-
lished, and the necessity of preserving the
public forests permanently is leading to
a national policy concerning them.
The needs of the nation demand that
the forests should thrive and flourish, for
the manv national industries are directly
and indirectly dependent upon them. The
rain fall is increased, floods are held back,
soil is kept in place and the flow of rivers
equalized because of the forests, and were
they destroyed the wild game could not
live. These uses, in addition to many
others, show the value of the forests to
a country and its advancement. Since
more wood is used in our own land at the
present time than ever before, a timber
famine is inevitable unless the present
rate of forest destruction in America is
checked. The cuttir- of timber, for what-
ever purpose, should be under the most
careful supervision. Not only should the
older forests be protected, but new ones
started and cared for. The accomplish-
ment of all this great work of saving the
forests lies in the hands of the forester,
and it is he who is and will continue io
be one of the great influences ensuring the
prosperitv of this and of the future ages.
The forester of to-day is highly edu-
cated, not only along one line, but along
several. He understands botany, geol-
ogy, physical .q-eography, chemistry, hydo-
graphy, as well &s 'technical civil en-
gineering, and is able to handle all busi-
ness dealings with lumber. It is for him
to heln the fore3t render its best service
to man, in such a way as to increase rather
than to diminish, its usefulness in the
future. The demands which mankind
have made unon the forest must be met
steadilv and permanentlv : therefore, it is
the prime object of the forester to make
the forest produce wood of the best kind
continually. The essential condition for
the best health and productiveness of tim-
bered sections is the timely removal >f
matuje trees, and it is the forester who
THE FORESTER AND HIS WORK.
knows just when certain trees are ready ', )
be cut down, and how to cut them. Al-
though the forester works from an eco-
nomic point of view — in fact, he wishes
to secure the greatest amount of the most
useful material in the shortest time, he
accomplishes his purpose by a wise use
of the forest, and in no other way.
All life in the forest is under the for-
ester's care — the game, insects, fungi and
trees. As a bontanist, in order to rear
and protect trees, he knows all about their
life and habits; he understands the re-
quirements of each particular variety from
the time that the seed falls to the ground
and germinates, through its various stages
as it is applied to the composition of wood
and the transpiration of plants and trees.
The forester looks after the reproduction
of his crops systematically. He knows
what trees are undesirable and removes
them in order to make room for the use-
ful ones. Artificial replanting of a for-
est is sometimes necessarv, but natural
regeneration is nearly alwavs possible. J.D
the reproduction of a forest, it is very
important that the forester should know
all about the various means of seed dis-
tribution, and how to transplant young
trees. The tasks involved in the refores-
tation of sand-dunes and barren moun-
tain sides are hard ones, and the forester
A forest ranger.
until in old age it dies, decays and falls
to the ground. He is familiar not only
with their lives individually but collec-
tively, as most of his problems are con-
nected not with single trees, but with
great forests. For this reason the for-
ester must be conversant with many .f
the laws of nature. The great struggle
for existence, and the survival of the fit-
test, are among the most important of
these laws. To combine these and learn to
make them brin~ forth the best possible
results, is the art of science. It is also
the art of the forester. Directly associated
with his knowledge of botany, is the for-
ester's knowledge of chemistry; especially
who is able to successfully accomplish
them possesses a marked degree of skill
in his work.
Possessing a good working knowledge
of physical geography, geologv and hydro-
graphy, the forester is able to meet and
conquer many difficulties. He knows the
relation the mountains and streams have
to the forest, and is able to note the in-
fluence the forest has upon the atmos-
phere and climate of a locality. He dis-
covers in what wav it affects the rainfall
and evaporation, and can determine how
the various earth and rock formations and
constituents of the soil may increase or
retard the growth of forests. The forester
2'2
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
understands and is able to use all of the
instruments for measuring the tempera-
ture and evaporation of water, and can
describe or form maps of streams and
lakes, showing, not only their geographical
position, but their position with reference
to the climatic conditions and forest
growth, from which many valuable and
interesting problems can be drawn.
As an engineer, the forester has much
to do. If thoroughly competent, he is able
to make line surveys, as well as topo-
graphical maps of forest property. Engi-
neering ability is required in building
roads, railroads, flumes and other perma-
nent means of transportation. To get the
forest products transported as cheaply,
ting it in skidways, and he also takes care
that the trees are not cut too high. After
the timber is cut, the forester knows how
much per thousand feet it will cost to get
it converted into lumber.
The work required of the forester of
private, State or national property calls
for practically the same amount of edu-
cation and experience along the lines men-
tioned. Having sufficient knowledge of
all the necessary subjects that come in his
work, the forester is ready for business.
After making a preliminary cruise of the
land he is to take charge of, the first thing
to be done is to make an estimate of the
actual amount of useful timber upon it.
The forester accomplishes this by con-
in the logging camp.
but as efficiently, as possible, is the for-
ester's aim as an engineer.
The forester, as a practical man of busi-
ness and executive ability, knows his for-
est thoroughly, and is capable of man-
aging all work done by his subordinates
in the field. He knows the lumbering
business from beginning to end, and is
fully competent to take charge of the saw
mills and lumbering camps in the forests
under his control. It is his duty to select
sites for camps and to make working
plans for the proper cutting of the tim-
ber. He does not allow valuable timber
to be used in wasteful ways, such as put-
ducting valuation surveys, which perhaps
is the most important part of all his
work.
The next important thing in the man-
agement of a forest is the analyzing of the
stems or trunks of various kinds and sizes
of useful trees. This work is done by
parties of from five to ten men, and id
exceedingly interesting, as well as in-
structive work for beginners in forestry.
The condition of each tree, whether sound
or not, the soundness of its trunk, and
the length of the logs into which it could
be best sawed, is recorded. It is the for-
ester's object to find the average rate of
THE FORESTER AND HIS WORK,
growth and then compute how long it will
take a tree, under certain conditions, to
realize a desired diameter. The age of a
tree is learned by counting the number
of annual rings of growth at its stump.
All points in the history of a tree are
definitely found out and their character-
istics learned.
The final success of a forester is large-
ly dependent upon his knowledge of silvi-
culture, which is nearly as important as
the data gathered from the surveys and
stem analyses. As a part of that know-
ledge, he knows under just what conditions
the seeds of trees will best germinate and
grow. Unless all of the forester's specifi-
cations concerning timber are upheld by
a thorough knowledge of silvics, they are
not likely to prove of value.
After 'the field season is over, the for-
ester still has much office work, and from
the conclusion he draws, a working plan
is made for the lumbering of the forest.
He also writes recommendations concern-
ing the prevention of soil erosion, the
best means of preventing and overcoming
forest fires, which, by the way, is his great-
est obstacle, and ways of fighting the
many other enemies of the forest, such as
insects and certain kinds of fungi. In
addition, he also determines the methods
for the grazing of stock, of various kinds,
and at what seasons it will be most profit-
in the logging camp.
The virgin forest.
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
able and cause the least amount of dam-
age. With all the data he has collected,
he makes maps representing the rise in
height of trees with their increase in di-
amiter, and also their rise in height with
the increase in age. All this work is done
before the real facts of the field survey
can be determined. When this has been
accomplished, the true results of the man-
agement of the particular tract or forest
claim under his care is known.
The development of such practical for-
estry is universally a national question,
and few governments are without a per-
manent forest commission. The benefits
derived from the application of proper
forestry principles, under the manage-
ment of trained foresters in the Govern-
ment service, is constantly leading private
timber owners to seek the help of effi-
cient men to take charge of their forests.
Forest management, therefore, has opened
a wide field for the employment of men
of strong character and ability — men who
are not afraid to meet difficulties and en-
dure hardships.
Although the life of a forester is not an
easy one, and requires constant mental ac-
tivity, there is something about it that
appeals to the nobler, finer self of every
man. Not every one has the privilege of
that enjoyment of the wild, which is so
great a part of the routine of the forest-
er's daily life.
There is always something new in his
profession — something about the trees to
discover — untrodden regions to explore.
By continual association with nature and
the spiritual influence and inspiration of
the forest, he is made a better man — one
whose life counts for something in the ad-
vancement of all humanity.
To this end his whole life is given, and
there lives no one more worthy of our
honor and respect or more deserving of a
nation's pride and homage than" the for-
ester— the man of this and of all ages to
come.
BY ALOIS DUNBAR
"Take heart o' grace." The counsel wise
Glowed on her lips and in her eyes.
"Never be downcast. Hear my creed :
'Who keeps on trying must succeed!'
Honest endeavor dignifies !
"Persist ! I think you sure to rise,
When once your foes who criticise
Are proven wrong — no more I'll plead-
'Take heart !'"': Oh, Grace!
Take heart I will ! That word applies.
Just what My Lady doth advise
Will T achieve ! In truth and deed,
What man could fail to win the lead
If she but let him — as the prize —
Take heart o' Grace ? .
BY G. F. PAUL
A mountain Indian.
THE traveler speeding southward
through Mexico is roused at Ira-
puato by the cry of "Fresas, fre-
sas !" and on opening the window, a dozen
fragrant baskets of tempting strawberries
are held up to tickle his eye and to tap his
pocket-book. This is a daily occurrence
the year round, and of course with the
passing of the months, the venders learn
that the largest berries should be placed
on top, so as not to be crushed by the
smaller ones. Twenty-five cents in silver
will, however, buy enough berries to feed
a family, while the unique basket that
holds the fruit will answer a dozen pur-
poses. As Irapuato is famous for its
strawberries, so Aguas Calientes is the
place for drawn work, Leon for leather
work, and Apizaco for carved coffee canes.
Queretaro, the place of Maximilian's exe-
cution, is the great opal town. Before
the passenger alights, he is beset by a
swarm of opal merchants, who carry their
stores with them in little black papers,
and cannot be held in check, even by the
high iron railing.
Every toothless woman on the streets
will try to rival Tiffany, the street car
conductor will proffer a few opals as he
politely collects the fares; the waiter will
try to say a word about a few choice opals
that a friend has just left with him, while
the straight-haired "mozo" will let the
light fall on his little assortment, as he
leads the way to a longed-for resting-
room.
But if Queretaro has more opals than
fine-toothed combs, Cela^a is the greai
candy town, where gallons of milk and
tons of sugar are daily made up into
dulces, and very toothsome are these
sweets. They are reputed to be the best
in Mexico, which is saying a good deal,
when it is considered that most delicious
candies are made at the extensive French
dulcerias in Mexico City. In Puebla,
SAveet potatoes are turned into candies; at
San Luis Potosi, the same thing is done
to the cactus, while at Vera Cruz the
squash is used to satisfy many a sweet
tooth. A woman declares that dirt and
dulces make a combination altogether -too
overpowering for an American stomach.
"Dulces!" she exclaimed to a persistent
vender of the dainties. "Dulces in all this
filth !"
A fringe of beggars usually adorns
the candy vendor. From these lugubri-
ous creatures come continuous cries for
centavos. The wonder is where they can
put a penny in their ragged clothes after
their eager fingers have clutched it. The
term pordioseros is applied to these whin-
ing mendicants. In plain English, they
would be known as "for-God's-sakers."
And when Iheir penny has been cast them
for their song or grimace or mute appeal,
they usually add with unintentional
irony, "May God give you more."
26
OVEKLAiNTD MONTHLY.
Candy vendor.
If peddlers abound at the railway sta-
tion, their number is legion at the market,
the one institution,, with the church, that
furnishes the average Mexican town a
reason for existing. In planning for mar-
ket days, a pack of scrawny vegetables Is
culled with the greatest care. With this
upon her back, the Zapotec woman starts
for the market r»lace, be it twenty, thirty
or even forty miles distant. The trip is
so planned that she may sleep after reel-
ing off a score -of miles at a fox trot; then
on again shortly after midnight, that she
may arrive on the scene of action with the
peep of day. At these markets chile and
charcoal vie with tortillas and tamales.
Little pyramids of peaches and pome-
granates rise haughtily up from populous
blankets, sandals mingle on friendly
terms with sweets while the brooms and
the beans fill the gap between a peprjer
and a ™". In manv cities, vegetables,
fruits and nuts are counted out in little
heaps, and only by buying each pile sepa-
rately can large quantities of a desired ar-
ticle be obtained. Wholesale dealings are
stoutlv over-ruled.
In Mexico, the burro is surmosed to ">e
At the market place.
The national wheelbarrow.
the beast of burden, and on its back are
fastened packs of everv description. The
Mexican is a ^ast-master at doing up a
load for his burro. Such things as bricks
have a decided tendency to resist all efforts
to tie them together into hundred-pound
bundles by means of ropes, yet burros, or
even boys, may often be seen plodding
Cargadores with piano.
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
along under such a burden. How the
bricks ever hold together is a mystery-
The burro's great rival as a pack-animal
is the Mexican peon himself. That this
omnipresent burden-bearing has been go-
ing on in Mexico tor at least a century is
shown by the statement of Baron Hum-
boldt, who says of the tenateros in the
mine he visited, that they were "carrying
for six hours a weight ranging from 225
to 350 pounds on their backs, in a very
high temperature, ascendino- eight or ten
times, without rest, ladders of 1,800
rounds." The famous savant adds that
this might well confute the belief that the
tropics are enervating. History is dotted
with instances where the equipment anj
many of the timbers of inland churches
and other structures, were practically car-
ried hundreds of miles overland.
The most notable feat, perhaps, was
that performed by eiarht thousand Tlasca-
lans. These trusty allies of Cortes car-
ried on their shoulders timbers for thir-
teen brigantines manv leagues across the
mountains, that he might recapture the
City of Mexico, then held by the prince,
Guauhtemoctzin. No doubt, many de-
scendants of these very Tlascalans work
in the Pachuca and Guanajuato mines.
What with a string of rickety ladders,
where every foothold is slippery with
Meat cargadore. City of Mexico.
water, and what with the frontera, or
brow-band, pulled tight with the dead
weight at his back, no wonder the peon's
poor brains are molded into a pear-shaped
peak that will not hold a hat.
Tn answer to the query as to why some
enterprising firm did not start up in the
draying business in Mexico City, an
American resident said : "It wouldn't pay
them. These greasers would put them out
of business in a few days. These men are
old hands at the work, and can get around
in out-of-the-way places where a big dray
couldn't budge. Just the other day a man
told me of one of these cargodores carry-
ing a safe for half a mile that weighed
nearly half a ton, and after he'd made the
trip he lit a cigarette and tramped off,
looking for another mountain to move.
There's a story going the rounds about an
American contractor at Zacatecas who
tried to introduce the use of the wheelbar-
row. The Mexican laborer loaded it and
then managed to put it on his knotty head
and carried it into the building. The
contractor tried to show him how it should
be run, and the greaser soon caught on;
but after he'd dumped his load, he insist-
ed on putting the wheelbarrow on his head
and carrying it back to the brick-pile.
For personal appearance the charcoal
vendors must be awarded the palm. These
carboneros have a lucrative profession,
for charcoal is in great demand through-
out Mexico. Their bodies are usually so
begrimed as to make perfect blackamoors
of them. Some of them have a curious
custom of wearing one trouser leg rolled
high, revealing a slender, shining limb.
If asked why he wears his trousers so, the
carbonero will probably reply, "Es cos-
tumbre del pais." (It is the custom of
the country.)
It is not to be expected that the hun-
dreds of vendors will pass along the
streets without crying their wares. Each
call, or grito, is distinct from the other,
and is an ancestral inheritance. Their
common characteristic is the prolongation
of the various notes, which are sung,
rather than shouted. Whether it be the
vendor of cut-straw or the milkman, the
seller of she'ep's heads or the more plain-
tive tamalera, each cry will have about it
a charming originality. No more pleas-
ing matin can be found than the melodi-
ous words of the gardener, "Com pro, usted
Pack train returning from market.
A light load.
Water carriers at -Querataro.
PEDDLERS AND PACK HORSES IN MEXICO.
31
Water carrier of Guanajuato.
jitomate, chicharos, ejote, caldbacitaf
(Won't you buy tomatoes, peas, beans,
pumpkins.)
Guanajuato has in its aguador or water
man, the most picturesque provider in the
Republic. Wliile his usefulness is being
narrowed by the laying of prosaic water-
pipes, yet he will always play an import-
ant part in many Mexican households.
The Guanajuato aguador tramps along,
bearing on his back a four-foot jar, not
made of earthenware, but of leather.
"The hills are so steep and the streets are
so narrow,
He can't carry earthen jars on a wheel-
barrow."
The water carrier in Mexico City wears
such an elaborate armor of helmet,
breastplate and thigh-pieces that nothing
can work him injury except the sudden
breaking of one of the two nicely balanced
jars that he carries fore and aft. Some-
times he has a pouch of red beans with
which to keep tally of his trips.
If there is a senorita in one of the
houses he supplies with water, a coin and
a smile may transform him into one of
Cupid's postmen. It must be remembered
that a strict censorship over such corre-
spondence is maintained in many Mexi-
can homes. It may be, however, that iihe
aguador is made an unknowing helper in
the love-match. The artful young don
may fasten the missive to the bottom of
the chochocol, or water-jar, by means of a
little wax. Consuelo, previously warned,
is in waiting at the gateway when the
aguador appears, and is, of course, de-
lighted to see him. She pays the postage
with a thousand kisses, but the letter
gets them, not the aguador. And then in
secret she will read a hundred times the
words of the ardent lover.
After several appearances of the lovev
a blissful telegraphy of signs and smiles
In a side street in Mexico City.
32
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
and countless sighs will be established.
From then on, the aguador and the car-
bonero may play important parts in the
courtship, being subsidized by the novio
to carry to his mistress bouquets within
whose depth a tinted missive lies con-
cealed.
The evening hours are delightful in
Mexico throughout most of the year, tak-
ing compassion upon such young men as
have engagements during this period out-
side a grated window or just below a pro-
jecting balcony. Gradually traffic ceases
aloDg the narrow thoroughfares, the stars
come out, and the moon smiles down se-
renely. Little is heard, save the rattle oi
a stray cab or the barking of a watchful
dog. These sounds, too, die away anl
give place to the whistle of the slim
policeman at the street corner, and the
clicking tread of the night watchman go-
ing his rounds. And through it all, Con«
suelo listens to sweet nothings from
Emilio, who stands dallying with his
broad sombrero and inwardly execrating
the immovable gratings or the dozen feet
of space that separate him from his
• novia.
BY MARGARET ASHMUN
Among the rocks that bound the river's brawl,
The wild crab's straggling branches freshly teem;
Far o'er the bank its ragged shadows fall —
Its glad pink blooms rough-mirrored in the stream.
Not meet are they for this late age of ours ;
Their strange, sweet fragrance speaks an earlier date;
The primal world is theirs ; they seem <the flowers
Wherewith some nymph might crown her satyr mate.
»
BY ARA SHANE CURTIS
NO telegraph operator employed on
the Eantoul district in the spring
of '92 has forgotten Dispatcher
John W. Rafferty, who handled the "sec-
ond trick" at Eantoul from four o'clock
p. m. until midnight, during that season.
I say this with more certainty because
of the fact that he was exceedingly un-
popular. He had been brought to Ran-
toul by Superintendent Thurston to suc-
c*eed Dispatcher Brooks, who was dis-
charged upon a quibble at the instance
of the superintendent to make room for
Rafferty — or so we choose to believe, and
we were prejudiced accordingly. Then he
was not favorably regarded by either
Trainmaster Bement, or Chief Despatch-
er Lorton, who looked upon him in much
the same light as did we.
But he had not been long at Rantoul
before we discovered that he was a par-
ticular pet of Thurston's, — or we thought
so when the latter pushed him to the po-
sition of second-trick man after barely
two months' service.
"Got better stuff in him than any
other man in the office !" growled the sup-
erintendent, when Bement remonstrated
against this mark of open favoritism.
Thurston's argument was unanswer-
able. Rafferty's ability to get trains
over the road was exceedingly manifest,
and Bement said no more then. It was
later, wben talking the matter over with
Lorton, that he waxed profane concerning
the stuff that was in the second-trick des-
pateher, damning it roundly.
Rafferty's unpopularity seemed to
trouble him little. He might have dis-
sipated the prejudice against him had he
niade any effort in that direction; but he
was silent and unsocial by nature; rarely
speaking during the eight hours which
he daily spent in the office. His compe-
tency only aggravated the situation. For,
in spite of our dislike, we were forced
to recognize that a better dispatcher than
Rafferty never handled a key.
He had need of all his skill, for there
were heavy rains in that section for
weeks before the final catastrophe, and
landslides were of almost daily occurrence,
while, owing to the sodden condition of
the road-bed, other accidents were fre-
quent. In addition the wires were almost
habitually "in trouble", because of the
dampness, and the stormy winds.
But Rafferty was a fair electrician, as
well as a train runner; and directly the
first trick man's transfer was complete,
he would go to work and patch up a de-
cent wire circuit. In this respect, the
wire-chief declared he could accomplish
wonders. And, no matter how serious
the condition of affairs, provided the
track itself was intact, he managed to
keep trains moving, and bring them
through with no undue delays.
Though I was a mere lad of seven-
teen. I had been night-operator in the
despatcher's office for some time; and,
as I was ambitious to make an efficient
train handler of myself, I began to study
Rafferty's methods closely;
This did not long escape him, and he
manifested a disposition to aid me, after
a surly fashion of his own. He dressed
me down savagely for any mistakes I was
so unfortunate as to commit; but I soon
learned that his reproofs covered valuable
hints, by which I was not slow to profit,
and grew to rather welcome them than
otherwise.
Thus an odd sort of friendship was fin-
ally established between us; and, as I
grew to understand him better, my liking
for him increased proportionately. But it
was not until the 6th day of May, when
the curtain fell upon the last stormy
scene of the tragedy of Rantoul, that I,
in common with the rest, learned what
Rafferty really was.
Rantoul was not a large town. It was
a strange stage for a tragedy — that little
division station, clustering in a flat just
below the junction of the Ohampaign
and Obion Rivers. Ordinarily, these were
insignificant streams enough ; but, on the
34
OVEELAND MONTHLY.
date mentioned, they were swollen by
heavy rains, and looked formidable and
sullen. A rough levee held them in
bounds, and protected the valley, which
would otherwise have been overflowed.
Back of the town rose a tall, ragged slope,
bristling with trees and undergrowth —
the last of the wavering chain of hills
through which Champaign made its way
to its junction with the Obion east of
Eantoul. Ways Bluff, the last station on
the Champaign division, was situated on
this river at the point where it buried
itself among the hills, some ten miles
north of Eantoul. The railroad, entering
Eantoul from the northeast, skirted the
Champaign for some distance, partially
rounded the foot of the slope, ran parallel
with the switch-yard to its limit, fifty
yards east of the despatchers' office, and
bent sharply away over the Obion upon
an iron bridge. Across the river it curved
boldly away from the long bridge ap-
proach down a steep grade to a level plain
over which swarmed Eocky Ford, the first
station south of Eantoul; and then shot
away south toward Forbes, the terminal
of the Eantoul division.
The building in which the general of-
fices were located, including the despatch-
ers', was situated in the southwest quar-
ter of the town, within a stone's throw of
the Obion. Midway down the switchyard,
stood the yard office — a tiny box car af-
fair, but important, as it marked the
junction of the Champaign and Eantoul
divisions.
The work was heavy, as the operator
was required to handle the telegraphing
for both divisions — a rough enough place
for an experienced man.
Consequently I was surprised when,
.early in March, I learned that a lady — a
Miss Burke — had been ordered by Lorton
to relieve Teague, the night operator at
the yard, who was .discharged for drunk-
enness.
Miss Burke was a newcomer on our di-
vision. She was young — not more than
nineteen — exceedingly pretty, and we
were all exercised by Lorton's locating
her at such a point. She was a fairly
good operator, but was unaccustomed to
heavy work, and her inexperience be-
trayed her into many blunders.
Incompetency was an unpardonable
sin in Eafferty's eyes, and she had trouble
with him the first night after her in-
stallment. She reported No. 53 ready,
giving the signature of the conductor to
several orders.
Eafferty completed the orders, telling
her at the same time to hold the train for
another. She misunderstood him, and
some minutes later, when he called the
yard office to put out the order, 53 was
already puffing over the Obion. Eafferty
was furious.
"You've fixed it now — damn you !" he
snapped, the instrument clicking angrily
as he handled the key. "You've played —
"Hold up, Eafferty !" I cried. "That's
a girl you're talking to."
All the blood in Eafferty's body seemed
to rush to his face. For a moment he
glared at me speechless; then he bent
low over his desk.
"Its d — d dirty of Lorton to put a
girl down there !" he said, emphatically.
But I noticed that he used no more
rough language in working with the yard
office; and the next day, to my astonish-
ment, I learned that he had called at the
office on his way home that night, and
apologized personally to Miss Burke.
Then it soon became apparent that,
from the moment he first laid eyes upon
Nora Burke's pretty face, it was all up
with Eafferty. -Though ihe remained
crusty as ever with other operators along
the line, he was never cross with her.
Even did his best to shield her from the
consequences of her manifold mistakes;
and on one occasion when she failed to de-
liver a train order — thereby entailing a
long delay at a "blind" siding upon a
banana train — he went so far as to de-
stroy the record of the order, thus tacitly
taking the blame to himself; and was
later severely censured. I alone was privy
to this unheard of proceeding, and when I
ventured to remonstrate, I was gruffly
told to keep quiet.
The girl seemed strangely indifferent to
his kindness. She was probably unaware
of its extent. She certainly treated him
with the utmost coolness; and a rumor
soon crept through the office that she
favored Jerry Mathis, a stalwart young
engineer, in no small degree.
Matters stood thus on the 5th day of
May. There had been a steady down-
pour of rain all day, and a black squally
night had set in. Third-trick Despatcher
THE STUFF THAT WAS IN HIM.
a 5
McGuire had been taken ill suddenly that
day; and, as there was no extra man to
relieve him, the chief despatcher had no-
tified Rafferty that his watch would com-
mence at seven o'clock that evening, and
terminate at seven the following morn-
ing, when he would be relieved by Walker,
the day man.
Seven o'clock was the hour at which I
reported for duty, and Rafferty and I re-
paired to the office together. He was in
a savage mood, and we walked the whole
way in silence. All Eantoul was indoors,
save those who, like ourselves, were com-
pelled to exposure.
For some time a growing fear had been
seeping through the town that the levee
might break, and the gorged rivers flood
the town. Within a few days, this fear
had merged into a dread so positive that
it had occasioned the exodus of nearly
half the population; and we passed sev-
eral lighted windows at which anxious
faces were whitened against the panes.
We pressed forward with difficulty
against the strong wind, and when we
reached the office, paused a minute with-
in the outer door to recover our breath.
It was not yet dark, but night was
closing down in visibly deepening shades,
and only those objects near at hand could
be distinguished. The sky was heavily
overcast, and the lights flickering down
the gloomy length of the switch yard,
showed like pale red smears through the
dashing mist of the rain.
A ribbon of fierce lightning tore sud-
denly across the sky, and disclosed two
figures making their way down the main
track, the fitful gusts threatening to
sweep them away with every step.
I recognized Miss Burke, and Mathis,
the engineer, and I saw that Rafferty did
too. The next flash threw his grim pro-
file in strong relief against the dark back-
ground of the door.
"Callahan, they're engaged; I heard it
today." His voice was a husky growl.
"that so?"
I looked after the pair with a feeling
of indignation which it would have been
hard for me to explain. There was a
brief silence. It was broken by Rafferty.
"Look there!" he said, abruptly, point-
ing to the Obion, which stretched away on
our right like a pallid mist, blending con-
fusedly with the twilight. "If these rains
don't hold up, we'll have trouble, kid.
I walked down by the levee today, and
the water was washing over it in places.
If it should give way now, this town
would be wiped off the map."
"You don't think there's any imme-
diate danger, do you?" I asked anxiously.
"If this continues it'll have hard work
to hold to-night," replied Rafferty.
He turned and went up stairs, I fol-
lowed him, a chill creeping over me.
Hitherto I had scouted the possibility of
danger, and had met the fears of others
with open ridicule. But I knew that it
was almost impossible to excite Rafferty,
and his opinion of the staying powers of
the levee troubled me not a little.
It was half past six when we entered
the office, though it seemed much later,
owing to the gloom without.
Walker looked up from his train-sheet,
and greeted Rafferty with a tired smile.
"You'll find things in a mess to-night,"
he said. "I was just getting 'em shaped
up, when Sixty-two's engine died at
Creelman, and I had to undo every
blanked thing I'd done, and do it over."
"Things are always in a mess," growled
Rafferty; "but I don't mind work — the
more, the better. How are the wires?"
"We have had this wire patched with
the No. 16 wire at Kosciusko. Its all
right for moving trains," replied Walker.
"You'll have all kinds of work, if that's
what you're hunting for. They're going
to Forbes to bring out a race-horse train;
and there are all kinds of trains out on
the pike — all of 'em late and getting
later."
He turned over to Rafferty instructions
from the trainmaster to run one of the
engines — the huge 890 — in charge of en-
gineer Mathis and conductor Ryan, to
Forbes as the first section of No. 53. The
race-horses were due to reach Forbes at
ten-thirty, and they wished to head them
north without delay.
Within a few minutes after Rafferty sat
down before his desk, he had "fixed" first
53 at Rantoul. At seven-thirty the pow-
erful 890 glided majestically down the
main line^ and swept out over the Obion,
on her way to Forbes.
Soon afterward, the operator at Rocky
Ford, the first station south of the river,
reported a very rough place in the track
at the end of the bridge approach. Raf-
36
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
ferty shrugged his shoulders, and put out
a bulletin warning all trains to run care-
fully over the track in question.
He battled against fearful odds that
night — bad track, swinging wires, and
late trains; but he soon held his stupen-
dous game well in hand, and, at nine
o'clock, he closed his key, and leaned back
in his chair.
"Got 'em straightened out sooner than
I expected, kid," said he. "See if you
can raise Champaign. I want some fig-
ures on Number 1. They are sure to be
late."
No. 1 was the south-bound fast mail.
They were due at ten-twenty, but for two
weeks past had been arriving from one to
five hours late, owing to washouts on the
Champai-gn division. I began calling
"CH", the despatcher's office at Cham-
paign.
Rafferty arose and went to the window
a large, black square, save when illumi-
nated by occasional flashes from the dark-
ness without. The wind was swooping
down into the valley from the southwest,
and the panes were slurred by long, slant-
ing spits of rain.
He gazed anxiously toward the Obion.
A flare of lightning disclosed the railroad
bridge and the levee, still intact. After
another lingering look, this time in the
direction of the yard office, he returned to
his seat.
"Can't you raise Champaign?" he in-
quired.
I shook my head. No. 16, the regular
train wire was spliced with No. 8, which
was a "through' wire, at Kosciusko Junc-
tion ; and we were using No. 8 wire north.
All other long-distance wires were
grounded north of Rantoul; and No. 8
was evidently in difficulties somewhere
south of Champaign; for, though Raf-
ferty and myself continued calling Cham-
paign at intervals until No. 1 was over-
due, we received no response.
At ten-thirty, the race-horse train,
with its cargo of living freight, was de-
livered to the Rantoul division at Forbes,
and, almost immediately, the operator at
Forbes reported them ready to leave.
"Tell him to sign up and hike," di-
rected Rafferty. "No.l not here yet, and
I can't get any figures on 'em — the darn
wires all down! I'll — "
There was a sharp flash of lightning.
The giant switch-board cracked like a
pistol, and the wire "went down."
Rafferty went to work on his instru-
ments. The current was heavy, and he
adjusted with difficulty. Some one was
working — the sounder was ticking indis-
tinctly, and under the despatcher's skil-
ful fingers the confused clicking gradu-
ally resolved itself into his office call.
"RN— RN— RN— CH— " It was the
despatchers' office at Champaign.
"I — RN", responded Rafferty, quickly.
"Unable to get you sooner account wire
trouble," explained Champaign, unneces-
sarily. "No. 1 behind a landslide on this
division, and will reach Rantoul four
hours late— CH."
"OK— RN", replied Rafferty. He call-
ed Forbes and issued an order that No. 1
would run four hours late from Rantoul
to Forbes. Scarcely twenty minutes later
Martin, the first station north of Forbes,
reported the race-horse special by.
A season of comparative quiet ensued.
Now and then the wires would fail, and
we had considerable difficulty in keeping
our instruments adjusted, because of the
fluctuating current. There had been no
cessation of the wind. An uneasy fear
possessed me, deepening with each tem-
pestuous gust.
My apprehensions were not unshared.
A spirit of general disquiet prevailed
throughout the building. The operators
in the adjoining telegraph office, grouped
themselves anxiously near the windows
during leisure intervals. The clerk at the
trainmaster's desk moved restlessly, and
now and then a pale-faced employee from
the superintendent's office would come in,
exchange a few words with the clerk, and
gaze with perturbed face toward the Ob-
ion. All looked forward to the issue of
the stormy night with evident uneasiness.
All but Raiferty. Save that he called
the yard office once, and asked Miss Burke
if she was frightened, to which she re-
plied in the negative, he sat silent, ap-
parently unmoved; occasionally taking up
his pen when some station reported a
passing train, and noting the time on the
train-sheet before him.
Shortly after midnight, the operator at
Rocky Ford reported water running over
the dangerous section of the track south
of the river. I looked at Rafferty. He
was frowning.
THE STUFF THAT WAS IN HIM.
37
"Isn't it rather risky to run trains over
that track now?" I ventured
"Its .criminal," he replied, emphati-
cally. "But if I tied 'em up on account
of the track, Bement — "
He did not finish the sentence, but I
understood. A silence ensued which was
broken only at long intervals, until two
o'clock, when the little sounder on the
train-wire abruptly raised its voice, and
addressed Eafferty.
"Special 890 wants to know if you
can't give him more time on No. 1. He
can't reach Eantoul on what he's got —
KO".
It was Kosciusko Junction. Eafferty
looked up at the clock. The special had
pulled into Kosciusko only a few minutes
behind their schedule time. Mathis was
a good engineer, and they were making an
excellent run, considering the weather,
and the condition of the track.
"Wait,— I'll see," said Eafferty. "CH
CH— CH— EN— CH— "
"I — CH," answered Champaign. "No.
1 running five hours late — CH".
"OK— EN"" returned Eafferty, "to K
0— Copy 3. Order No. 180 to Spl. 890,
north, KO.
"No. One (1) Eng. 1120 will wait at
Eantoul until three-thirty (3:30) a. m.,
for Special Eace-horse train, Eng. 890
north. Sig).
F. G. B."
Kosciusko Junction repeated the order
and Eafferty made it complete.
"Tell him I want him here by three-
twenty-five, sharp," said Eafferty. "No.
1 may be right on the figures, and I don't
want him to fall down and block the
game. Hurry's the word !"
fie commenced calling Eocky Ford, but
before the latter could answer, the opera-
tor at Champaign took the wire ab-
ruptly, as follows:
" To EN — Just got new figures on No.
1. They will reach Eantoul about 2.45
— CH."'
Eafferty frowned savagely.
"That's only 4 hours and 25 minutes
late," snapped he. "This is not good biz !
I can't run trains if you don't give me
good figures!"
<fWe," began Champaign, but Eaf-
ferty seized the circuit. He called Kosci-
usko Junction, and ascertained that the
special had already gone. He began call-
ing Grand Pass, the only night office be-
tween Kosciusko and Eocky Ford, using
"9," the train order signal.
But the operator at Grand Pass was
not prompt. Eafferty continued calling
impatiently for ten minutes or more, be-
fore he finally broke in with —
"I GS— Spl. 890 by 2:22— GS"
"FD— FD^EN— 9— FD— FD— EN"
called Eafferty. "FD— FD— EN— 9— "
"EN— EN— EN— WB— "
It was Ways Bluff, the first station
north of Eantoul on the Champaign di-
vision.
"Get out!" flashed Eafferty furiously.
«99_FD— FD— "
But the operator at Ways Bluff broke
in again:
"To EN— WiB— I'm holding No.l here
cloudburst just below, and water coming
down river. Eun for your liv — "
That was all — the wire circuit remain-
ed open.
Eafferty bounded to the switch board,
and applied the ground wire north. It
closed the circuit, but, before he could
reach his key, Eocky Ford took the wire
with:
"To EN — track washed away south of
river to bridge-approach, and one span of
approach gone. Section men trying to — "
Eafferty flung open his key and started
to his feet.
"Everybody get out!" he shouted. "A
cloudburst at Ways Bluff, and water com-
ing down the Champaign!"
But the operators in the telegraph of-
fices had heard Ways Bluff, and the news
was already spreading like wild fire. The
wildest confusion reigned. The clerks
and other employes, rushed into the hall
pell-mell. They poured down stairs and
out of tihe building. The sound of
hoarse shouts and warning cries floated
up in distinctly from below .
I had started up to follow the others,
when I saw that Eafferty had reseated
himself and was calling Eocky Ford
frantically.
"Go on, Callahan !" he cried, seeing me
pause. "I must tell that fellow at Eocky
Ford to hold the 890 — am afraid to take
any chances."
I grasped the situation at once. The
track and part of the bridge-approach
south of the river had been swept away.
Eantoul itself would soon be under water.
38
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
The operator at Rocky Ford was inex-
perienced— Raft'erty could not trust him
to hold the race-horse train without in-
structions. And unless she was held at
Rocky Ford she was doomed.
I sat down, a feeling of shame partly
banishing my terror. Something was
wrong — Rocky Ford did not answer.
"For heaven's sake, see if you can't get
him on some other wire!" exclaimed Raf-
ferty, without pausing.
Before the words were out of his
mouth, I. was in the telegraph office. But
it was useless. I could get no induction
on any wire except No. 16, and Rafferty
was using that. I returned to the des"-
patchers' room.
"FD— FD— RN— 9" continued Raf-
ferty. "FD— FD— RN— 9! My God!
JFD— FD "
At last:
"I— FD," replied Rocky Ford.
"Hold "
A stream of lightning poured into the
'office. The switch-board was transformed
into a huge, twisting sheet of flame. There
was a terrific report, and long, crashing
roll of thunder. It was as if a cannon
had suddenly exploded in our midst.
I staggered back, blinded and deafened,
mechanically raising one arm to ward off
the white, intolerable glare. There was
little need. It had vanished, leaving to-
tal darkness. That terrible flash had cut
off the electric light and grounded every
wire in the office.
A moment later, while I clung to my
chair, dazed, a hundred vivid spots danc-
iner against the blackness before my eyes,
a hand grasped my shoulder.
"Come, kid— quick!"
It was the voice of Rafferty. But I
could only cling to him stupidly, as I had
clung to the chair, and he dragged me
from the room.
The storm had at length reached its
climax. The darkness was intense, and
we could hear the rain without striking
the building in driving, horizontal sheets.
We paused in the hall, and Rafferty
lighted a white signal lantern — two or
three were kept on hand in case of emer-
gei ,/. We hurried down to the outer door
— the cold wind struck upon me sharply,
and my stupidity vanished.
We made our way with extreme diffi-
culty toward the crossing, east of the
office. It was almost impossible to main-
tain our footing in the teeth of the gale,
and we were half-suffocated by the flood-
ing rain. Fortunately, it slackened
abruptly. A glimpse of lightning gave
me a fleeting revelation of the streets,
filled with a drenched, frightened throng.
At the crossing, Rafferty broke from my
clasp.
"Make for the hill, and you'll be safe !"
he shouted.
He fled down the tracks, through the
yard. I followed.
"'Where are you going?" I cried.
"Go back!" he answered savagely. "I
am going to the —
The remainder was carried away, but I
understood. He was going to the yard-
office — to Nora Burke.
"For one moment I hesitated. Then,
in obedience to an impulse stronger even
than the love of life, I set my teeth and
tore after him blindly.
The switch-yard was transformed into
a shallow pond. All of the tracks were
partially submerged, and those nearest
the river were totally obliterated. The yard
skirted the Obion, and the lightning '
showed a thin sheet of water curling over
the levee, as the waves were driven against
it by the wind. All the lights were ex-
tinguished except one, which still glim-
mered— a mere bright blur — through the
rain.
We dashed forward, clambering now,
and then over broken freight cars and
other debris which blockaded the way —
hurled down by the storm. I ran my best,
but I could not keep up with Rafferty. He
ran as I had never seen a man run before
— as I did not know a man could run.
We were both hatless and coatless, and
a few large, scattering hailstones dealt
us stinging blows. Luckily, the hail
passed in a few seconds.
There was not a sign of life anywhere.
The yard men had fled. We passed one
of the deserted yard engines, steaming
faintly. A moment later the little yard
office was revealed by the lightning, near
at hand.
In a second Rafferty was at the door.
He tried it, but it was locked. He flung
himself against it desperately. With a
loud crackling, it gave way, and we en-
tered.
At first we could see nothing. Then
THE STUFF THAT WAS IN HIM.
39
Rafferty raised the lantern and we saw
the girl — forgotten by all but himself —
crouching by the desk, her white, fear-
stricken face turned toward the door.
As he darted forward, calling her by
name, she sprung to meet him, with a
wild cry, and clung about him sobbing
convulsively.
Flinging down the lantern, he gathered
her up, and ran from the office. I caught
up the lantern — fortunately it was not
extinguished — and followed. Together we
half-led, half-carried the girl around some
refrigerator cars piled like crushed egg
shells across the storage tracks, stumbled
through a wide waste of wreckage, splash-
ed through a ditch full of racing water,
and paused at the foot of the hill for a
moment's rest.
"We'll soon be safe now/' panted Raf-
ferty.
I could hear his heavy breathing. I my-
self was open mouthed, unable to reply.
The wind had died down, except for an
occasional huffle; but the black clouds
overhead were again closing down, and it
lightened with merely momentary inter-
missions. Miss Burke clung to Rafferty,
and he bent over her, trying vainly to
shield her from the ceaseless spray of rain.
Suddenly a long, deep, sad cry, faint
and far distant, but unmistakable, was
borne to us from the South.
Rafferty straightened suddenly.
. "Good God! The special!" he ex-
claimed.
His words smote upon the senses of the
girl, dulled by fear and exposure, like an
electric shock. She started forward with
a wail of agony, and then stood wringing
her hands in helpless despair.
Wiith the swiftness of the lightning it-
self, the awful peril of the special race-
horse train flashed back upon my mind.
They were trying to reach Rantoul by
three twenty-five — Mathis had the mighty
890 on her mettle. If they were not
stopped by the operator at Rocky Ford —
I was aroused by Rafferty. He had
seized my arm and was pointing to Miss
Burke.
"Take care of her, Callahan!" His
tone was a command. "I am going back."
'•'Going back! What for?" I cried,
staring stupidly.
"That was the 890 at Ford Crossing-
she must be held at Rocky Ford !"
He caught the lantern from my grasp
and turned. I laid hold of him in des-
peration.
"My Lord, Rafferty— it's too late!
Even if you got there in time the wires
are burned out! You shan't do it — it's
death !"
He shook me off and turned toward the
draggled, shuddering figure of the girl.
The incessant lightning revealed his face.
It was white and worn and beaten, but
the iron look upon it was not the look of
one who fails.
"I'll manage it," he said grimly.
Mathias is pulling the 890. Good-bye,
kid !"
He was gone.
I tried to call out words of further
remonstrance, but something arose in my
throat and choked me. The knowledge
of his purpose overwhelmed me. He was
staking his life on the mere change that
Rocky Ford might not hold the special.
He was measuring his strength against
that of the destroyer, which, hemmed by
the hills, was rushing down the Cham-
paign. And, whether the unequal race
was won or lost, I knew that death waited
surely for Despatcher Rafferty at the end.
I strained my eyes after him until the
spark of the lantern disappeared. Pres-
ently it flashed out again like a star, only
to pass out of sight, and I saw it no more.
The sobs of the girl recalled me to my-
self, and I remembered that I was ex-
posing her to useless danger.
"Come ! We must hurry !" I cried. She
turned obediently, and passing my arm
around her, I hurried her up the steep
incline.
The ground was a mere sponge^-the
yellow mud inches deep. Our feet slid
in the slippery mire, and our ascent soon
degenerated into a desperate scramble.
But we struggled on until we reached a
small hollow more than half way up the
long slope, partially sheltered by a clump
of tossing, beaten trees.
We stopped here. Miss Burke sank
upon the ground, panting from the -ardu-
ous climb, and weeping convulsively.
As for me, I forgot everything but the
queer, silent man, for whom until /^at
night I did not dream that I cherished any
particular affection. I groaned aloud,
and flung myself down beside the girl,
sobbing outright like the boy I was.
40
OVERLAND MON
It seemed an age that we two sat there,
sobbing in company; but not many ^min-
utes covered the time from the/arfoment
when Rafferty left us until th^<nrial catas-
A deep, swelling roar/ike the uprising
of a}tfstrong wind, struCK upon my ears.
I wps1 on my feet — my heart leaped to
my/ throat with one great, suffocating
bound. I gazed down the murky length
of the Champaign, rendered plainly visi-
ble by the ceaseless glare from overhead.
The sound grew momentarily louder,
more appalling in volume. There was a
confuted, shrieking noise, in,termingled
like the onrush of resistless waters. Then
1 distinguished what seemed to be a black,
wavering line, far down the river. A
minute later, a wall of water, widening
as it came, shot down the Champaign,
and swept into Obion river, carrying
everything before it.
Some black blotches that were wreckage
appeared upon the surface of the swiftly
ebbing lake below. Well, Rantoul was
deserted, with the exception of one grim,
white-faced man, who ran a race with
death that night and was victorious ; who,
to shield the life of his rival, flung away
his own like a handful of waste.
For that night, Despatcher Rafferty
achieved the impossible. How he effected
a wire circuit, we did not know — we shall
never know.
What we do know is, that at three-four,
the operator at Rocky Ford heard the
dumb-sounder on the No. 16 wire tick
faintly.
He adjusted hastily. It was Rantoul
calling his office, and he responded quick-
ly: "Special by you?" clicked the
sounder.
"Coming," replied Rocky Ford.
"Take this quick — make 7 copies,"
came the swift command. "Order No.
181 to Operator FD, & Special 890, north.
Order No. 180 is annulled. Hold all
north-bound trains.
(Sig.) F. G. B.
The operator repeated the order rapidly,
gave his signature and waited for it to be
made complete.
"Complete 3 :08 a. m.— J. W."
The sounder stopped abruptly. Them
there came a few unintelligible clicks,
made by no earthly hand, and then —
silence. Death had written an eternal
"complete" to the life of Despatcher Raf-
ferty. The Great Superintendent had
called him in.
BY SAMUEL G. HOFFENSTEIN
How many a fane with Orient splendor crown'd
Its proud, marmorean beauty rears on high !
Sweet, sculptur'd shell of incense and sweet sound,
And sensuous ease, and gorgeous luxury —
What carven pride and flaunted pageantry!
As't were the magic triumph of a dream,
Or charmed haunt of enfin revelry
Ensconced in the midnight moon's pale gleam !
Aye, these are glorious to the ravish'd sight,
These lairs of vice, and their gold-garnished brood-
And Pomp can blind the eye of Virtue well;
But let them revel in their transient might —
They cannot stay Death's ruthless, rushing flood,
Or cheat the quenchless, fiery thirst of hell.
In Dagh.
BY FELIX J. KOCH
THINGS did look bad now certainly.
Wihen we had come into the capital,
with the cordon of Turkish soldiery
sent out to do honor to one who bore let-
ters from that beloved of the Padi-shah,
the Turkish ambassador to Washington,
and the infantry had lined up either side
of the way 'that leads to the door of the
Pashalik walls, we felt we had entered
some bit of Arabian Nights country,
where genii might come on touching some
talisman, and houris danced to castanets,
and the fig and the pomegranate would
drop at our feet. Out there in the ba-
zaars the pomegranates were to be had,
and figs likewise, and the houris did dance
for the populace in the little theatre they
had established up near the gilded
Mosque — but as for talismans, it did
seem as though we needed one badly.
The Despot of Dagh was feeling his
oats, to quote an Americanism.
One of the most powerful vassals of
the Sultan, practically absolute in his ex-
tensive domains, he had conceived the
brilliant idea that some day Dagh should
stand out alone on the map, without the
color being blended with that of Tur-
key. To do this, however, meant just a
few more troops and money than the Des-
pot had.
So when Miss Stone was captured in
his neighbor prince's estate of Bulgaria,
and he saw how easily Uncle Sam paid
hush-money and ransom and how com-
pletely the Macedonian Committee suc-
ceeded in convincing the world that the
Sultan was not a fit ruler for that region,
— since .the lives of foreigners were not
safe, he was resolved that — let any Ameri-
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
can come to Dagh and he would soon be
an absolute monarch.
The only flaw in the plan was that
Americans and Englishmen do not make
a point of coniing to Dagh. The people are
yeoman peasants, who raise wheat and
hemp, and some Turkish maize, a few
sheep, and some of them horses.
These, after the tax-gatherers have
taken a tenth for the Despot, and a third
more, from the Christians, because
they cannot serve in the army, and a
goodly squeeze for themselves, are then
taken by said peasants, in the one case,
on the sides of their burrows, in long car-
avans, (as safeguards against the high-
way-men,) and, in the other, in hugh
combined flocks, to the same end, and
driven to the nearest town.
There some wealthy pasha corners the
market, buys them up and, after seeing
to it that the Despot gets liberal gifts,
and that his spies too, are quite well ap-
peased, sells where and when he will.
So you see, there is no cause for vis-
itors.
You are altogether in too great dan-
ger to make tourist travel pleasant. The
mountains are beautiful — but you
see the same in the Alleghanies. The vil-
lages are picturesque, but if you want
Oriental pictures, you get them in Bos-
nia in safety. And, as for an American
commercial invasion, goodness knows,
fashions haven't changed since the battle
of Anslem, and the peasant wouldn't buy
if he could, which he can't.
As to missionaries, they, too, didn:t
stir so far into the back country, and
it would be only some correspondent who
ever dipped into Dagh.
When he did come, the orders had long
stood on file, his coming should not be
interrupted.
Then when he was safely within the
pashalik, the soldiers which the neighbor-
ing Vali, or province governor, had sent
as his escort, should be ordered home with
excuse that the Despot wished to do trte
honors himself and would provide an es-
cort of his own on the return.
The very earliest night thereafter would
find a letter thrown into the office of the
American minister at Belgrad, (this is
the nearest point where we hold diplo-
matic relations), that an American had
trespassed on some religious ground and
was held prisoner by the Despot of TJagh.
Nothing would be accepted short of ab-
solute freedom from Turkey and immun-
ity from arrest.
Didn't it sound easy and nice, though ?
En route.
Courtiers.
Dagh, the capital of Dagh, lies in a
secluded valley, densely forested and
reached by a single trail. That trail was
commanded by heavy cannon, and could
hold huge armies at bay.
When the Sultan sent his forces to or-
der his vassal to obey, the vassal would
simply say: "One foot further and the
American will be put to death."
That would bring on what he wished.
So, when, the next morning we wished
to leave our bed chamber, not having
rested particularly well on the divan that
night, the sentry outside the leather por-
tiere blocked our way.
"You cannot pass," he said in Turk-
ish, "these are my orders."
Thinking it some local etiquette, that
one might not leave the room until called
for, I sat down at. the window to fill out
my journal..
By and by a liveried servant entered
with the usual trays of Turkish coffee, in
a beaker, sugar and hot water to dilute.
This, and the soft, grey unleavened bread
of which one becomes so fond, and the
candied figs. That was my breakfast.
The sun was rising higher and higher,
it must be ten by our time. Turkish
time is different, there are twelve hours
from sun-up to sun-set, varying accord-
ing to season.
I had come to Dagh to go through their
ceremonials, but I did not like this delay.
More than that, the window looked down
into an enwalled court where there was
only a scullion, lazily washing the dishes
from some previous banquet, careless
whether the coating of lamb-fat, in which
all things are cooked, adhered or not.
Then, by and by, there were foot-steps.
The sentinel put hand to mouth, eyes
and brow and came to salute.
A higher officer in navy blue uniform,
contrasting strangely with the thread-
bare brown of the private, entered.
He greeted in French, the official lan-
guage of south Europe.
"His Excellency, the Despot, bids you
good day, and desires to state that he
wishes you personally, no harm."
The way the man said it showed he
was of good breeding, probably some
wealthy aga's son, who had gone through
A bridge.
the mens' schools at Salonica, and later
Constantinople.
"Certain circumstances, however, have
arisen, of which I am nat permitted to
tell you, which causes him to be forced
to take you a prisoner.
"So long as you comply with his will,
and your friends do your bidding, he bids
me assure you you will suffer no ill. If,
however, that is not done, you will surely
be put to death — for to release you
would then set a precedent, and, there-
after any attempt of the sort would be
scoffed at."
Familiar with the Stone episode, I
knew too well what he meant.
The only question in my mind was,
what the ransom would be.
We calculated on that chance when we
arranged with the newspapers sending us,
—it was simply a business proposition.
If we were captured, held, say a week,
released, it might come dear, but it would
put such a premium on our letters, that
people would buy papers who never did
before, and later, when it came to book
publication, — wejl, they saw their way
clear to reap a fortune.
Only, of course, it wouldn't do to let
him know this. Furthermore, we re-
called how Miss Stone had been dragged
throiigh the very mountains which we had
crossed by burro, and the prospect was not
overly delightful for us to contem-
plate.
So we put on an air of consternation,
simulated innocence, and asked what he
meant.
"The Despot, my master, is badly treat-
ed by the Sultan, he will have his revenge.
Were he well treated he would not need
to do this.
"You are a college man?"
I nodded assent.
"You took la logique?" (logic).
Again I answered affirmatively.
"Then you see the argument. Were
Turkey well goverened, the local govern-
ors would not need to make foreigners
suffer, to avenge their own wrongs. But
Turkey is not well governed, and so they
do this. What happens to you may hap-
pen to any American citizen, any foreigner
coming here.
"You see the reasoning?"
"Perfectly."
He was quiet, sauve, unimpassioned,
as are all Turkish officials, courteous
throughout.
"Now then you, personally, have no in-
terest in Turkey except as a traveler.
What matters it to you if we are a number
of small states, instead of this unwieldly
one?"
FREED PROM THE DESPOT OF DAGH.
45
I had to admit none, as he awaited my
answer.
"Europe, however, will not help us to
this. Not because she does not see how
badly we suffer, but because each state
of Europe is waiting to swallow us up.
And all are so jealous of the others and
so sure they will each get the whole, they
will do nothing.
"Your country, however, would not
care. We would get fair treatment.
What is more, we know how powerful
your navy is, and could be made. So,
just a threat from you would do us as
well as would actual war. And threats
cost a government nothing, but the price
of cabling, which the grateful Despot
would certainly repay."
I followed him closely.
I was dealing with one of those subtle
Oriental diplomats, of whom I had read
and heard.
"Very well—"
He tendered me a cigarette, adding he
didn't suppose that I cared for a hook-
ah.
"Now then; here you are, absolutely in
our clutches. Escape is impossible. The
only way into the capital is that pass lead-
ing off and in through the canyon, and
through it an army must come single file.
Those mountains are well defended, look,
and you will see the cannon here and
there.'"
He pointed some out from the window.
"You haven't but one life to lose. Why
lose it, to gain nothing ? Write your gov-
ernment what we demand. That it force
Turkey to give up Dagh, since its mis-
government is such that an American
cannot travel without molestation. This,
and to insure the Despot immunity.
"Or, if you prefer, write it to force
Turkey to give up Dagh and pay your
ransom, which we set at the original one
of Miss Stone — two hundred of your dol-
lars, payable in gold.
"Otherwise — " and he drew his finger
across his throat, indicating the bow-
string.
And from his tone I knew he meant it.
"Supposing, however, the United States
government does not do what you ask.
Am I to die — for no fault of my own?"
The Moslem in him sprang to his Ko-
ran.
"If Allah wills you to die, you may die
this instant, though every physician in
the world be about you. If Allah wills
you to live, not the Sultan of Sultan?
can cause your death."
It was uncontrovertible, and besides.
The Despot's band.
46
OVEELAND MONTHLY.
arguments of theology are useless and
dangerous.
I asked an hour to think it over.
"There is nothing to be thought over.
You write your government, and tell
them what we demand. Add that if they
refuse, the penalty is your death."
"Come; here is paper and ink."
A soldier stood, noiselessly, just out-
side the portiere.
He entered and handed the little ink-
horn with the purple inks, the salt cel-
lar filled with sand to strew over, by way
of blotter, and then filter back in the cup,
and the thin Turkish paper.
There was nothing to do but write —
and 1 did.
It would take two days by fleet courier
to carry that letter out of Dagh, up
through Eila and then Dupnitza, where
Sandansky, who had planned the Stone
capture lives, to Eadomir — which was the
point of railway connection. Then it
would take another day to get to Sofia,
and on to the heart of Balkans railway
transportation, and still another to Bel-
grade. In other words between five and
six days each way was the fastest pos-
sible travel.
The answer would come a bit faster,
since from Belgrade they could wire that
to Sofia, thence to Dupnitza, where the
telegraph ended, and couriers, riding day
and night, could come in two days later.
But short of twelve days or two weeks,
there was no hope of action.
Meantime, like an ox fattened for the
slaughter, I lived on the best of the land.
And evenings the Turkish official came
to keep me company.
Time and again he begged me to know
that he was simply carrying out the will
of his master, and trusted I bore him no
hatred. He must be sure of spies at
the walls himself.
We grew fast friends, and he told of
Turkish rites and customs, while I filled
him with the wonders of America.
Then on the eighth day there seemed
pandemonium let loose at Dagh.
Contrary to all expectations, the Turk-
ish army — not the vassafl troops from
here, — were pouring down the mountain
sides, hundreds and hundreds strong.
The Despot's sentries, on the routes had
been murdered in the night, the guns on
the mountain sides had been suddenly
spiked, and made useless.
The Despot of Dagh feared for his life,
for the Sultan shows little mercy.
The passes were closed to him, there
was no hope of escape.
Still, he would be revenged.
He suspected that some one had played
spy, and sent the news to his arch enemy,
the Governor of the next Turkish satrapy,
who had sent it on to the Grand Vizier.
I must die !
Natives.
Despot of Dagh.
Breathless my friend, the officer rushed
into my room.
"Come ! Come ! For your life, and
be brave. They will kill you otherwise.'"'
We passed through endless passage-
ways, that led ever toward the earth. •
Suddenly we began to ascend and
reached a flight of winding stairs.
"Kun, fast, fast as you can," he called.
, "Hurry, hurry !"
And we ran.
Upward ! Upward ! Upward !
At last we were on a narrow platform
over-looking all Dagh.
Just beneath were the city walls, with
the sentinels.
They saw us on these battlements, but
by the blue they knew a superior officer,
came to rest and saluted.
Then he pushed me in a chair.
"I am your friend — he hurriedly
whispered. "If worst comes to woist, do
not forget me. It was I who summoned
the Sultan's troops, for I do not love the
Despot. He stole the throne from my
cousin.
"You will be in safety in another mo-
ment."
He put me back in the chair, bade me
hold for my life and turned a lever.
As from a catapult I was shot into air.
Off, off, off, — >by some wonderful spring
the chair was released. High into air,
on parabolic curve, never once turning
over, however. Then suddenly, there rose
from the back of the chair, a bag, as of
some huge balloon, that inflated itself
from the suction of our passage. It had
been calculated with nicety, and its power
to hold up in air was just a bit less than
the pull of gravity. So the descent grew
easy and I reached the earth with just
the slightest bounce.
Of course the soldiers on the ramparts
saw us, and at first they might have shot.
But they had had orders, years before,
under penalty of death to themselves and
their families, to f artherest extremes, —
and this a death by the noose, where the
Moslem believes the soul cannot escape
from the body, and so must perish with
it, — no one was ever to interfere with
The homes.
what was flung from that tower.
I landed far outside the walls of Dagh,
and in a nest of badly scared Turkish sol-
diers.
I was their prisoner instantly.
They led me to the colonel and I told
my story.
They might have given up the siege,
then and there, — so far as the Sultan
cared.
But the Sultan had promised the post
of the Despot of Dagh to whoever
brought him the head of its present in-
cumbent. So the siege went merrily on.
I, however, did not stay to witness it.
The soldiers were but too eager to claim
the reward for my release, to permit me to
tarry.
Months later I heard from my friend,
the officer in Dagh. Through the pres-
sure brought to bear by the American
embassy he had been promoted. He was
the satrap of a province in Asia Minor,
and extended an invitation to visit his
court.
Some day, perhaps I will go. But I
shall take good care of chairs that prove
catapults, while there.
The guard.
BY F. G. MARTIN
{{TVTEVEK heard how old Sim New-
|\l comb just missed breaking in-
* ^ to the Hall of Fame, did you ?"
The speaker was Captain Winslow, for
forty years master of a steamboat on the
Tennessee Eiver.
Despite his seventy years and frosted
hair the Captain was no abandoned hulk.
The fire of youth was still in his eye and
the snap of virility in his genial voice.
He knew., like a schoolboy his geography,
every bend and depth and shallow of his
river, from Chattanooga to Ohio. Be-
sides he was a capital story-teller. The
Captain re-filled his pipe as he put the
question, a premonitory symptom of a
good story coming.
"No, I never heard about it," I re-
plied. "Let's have the story."
Captain Winslow sat back at his ease
and the narrative flowed as smoothly as
the current of a meadow brook.
"It was back in '63, just when the civil
war was hottest in these parts. I reckon
those were not halcyon days for the peo-
ple in the little burg of Chattanooga.
Eebs and Yanks were playing battledore
and shuttlecock with the town. There's
many an old house standing there yet ven-
tilated by cannon balls in those days.
Well, I was in my prime then and was
captain of the Hiwassee, making two trips
a week between Chattanooga and Bridge-
port, Alabama.
"But to get down to Sim Newcomb.
Sim was a young man then, a strapping,
well-built, athletic piece of flesh. No-
body about Chattanooga ever knew his
pedigree. Mrs. Grundy had it that he
was a professor in some college down in
Georgia and, becoming crossed in love,
he soured on life and decided to turn
his back on the world and go it alone
in the woods and mountains.
So he came up to Sand Mountain,
built himself a rude hut and made com-
panions of the birds and squirrels.
"Well, along in the fall of '63 things
were getting pretty lively at Chattanooga.
A band of 'Fighting Joe' Hooker's men,
sweeping up the Wauhatchie Valley one
afternoon, passed close to Sim Newcomb's
retreat. Sim got scared up. He feared
Hooker's men would take him for a sharp-
shooter or guerilla. Without bag or
baggage, he put out as fast as his legs
would carry him. Rushing down the
Tennessee river, out of breath, quicker
than you could say Jack Eobinson he
jumped into a small skiff which lay under
some willows. Without stopping to con-
sider that he knew nothing about rowing,
he shot out into the river.
"Now, the Tennessee is wild and
ungovernable at that place as one of these
untamed East Tennessee mountain gals.
The water falls seventeen feet to the mile
and is so swift it makes the hair of every
river man who plies this stream, stand
on end.
"A mile below where Sim Newcomb
started across, the river breaks through
the mountains. The water has cut a way
through solid rock, and the south side
shoots down like a mill-race and, strik-
ing the wall of rock, veers off in a sharp
bend. It is worth a man's life to go in
there in a light boat.
"Before he had calmed down from his
scare Sim had drifted into this swift
descent. He got his bearings too late to
save himself. He was whirled along like
a straw on a flood, helpless even to
steer the skiff away from jagged rocks.
Ninety-nine chances in a hundred he
would hit the mountain side and go to
Davy Jones' locker in a jiffy.
"Sure enough, the skiff, like a scared
bird, fairly flew into the mountain side
where the water turns. Sim was knocked
unconscious and fell sprawling into the
bottom of the skiff.
"How long it was before he came to
his senses Sim never could figure out.
He's told me about it many a time. When
reason came back to him it was gloomy
and dark about him, and the air was
damp and stifling. He tried to remem-
50
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
her where he was and how he got there.
I reckon he felt something like Eip Van
Winkle when he woke from his twenty
years' sleep.
"Sim sat up and peered about.
Through the midnight blackness shot a
little gleam of light. It seemed to him
a long way off. Groping about he found
he was on solid earth on the edge of a
pool or lake of water. He then recalled
his perilous experience in the skiff. At
the thought of his situation he shook with
fright, like a darkey with the ague. He
was in a great cave. The country about
Chattanooga is honey-combed with them.
But how he got in the cavern is what puz-
zled Sim.
"Feeling his way along, he went toward
the little stream of light. He found that
it trickled through a narrow aperture in
the rocky wall. And there lay the skiff
on the subterranean lake.
A little exploring cleared up the whole
situation to Sim. After the skiff struck
the rocky river bank and he had conscious-
ness beat out of him, the skiff evidently
had drifted swiftly on, hugging the moun-
tain wall until coming to this opening.
The water poured into this hole in a small
stream, and the skiff was catapulted by the
swift river current right into this cave,
and, lighting on the lake in the cave, it
sped across to the opposite side and
dumped the unconscious Sim on the bank.
Here is where he found himself when rea-
son returned.
"Well, Sim thanked the Lord for sav-
ing his life, and started to find his way
out. Robinson Crusoe had his troubles,
but Sim soon found he could give point-
ers to that worthy adventurer.
"That cave simply had no beginning
and no end. It proved to be a circular
basin with no outlet except the small open-
ing through which Sim had so unceremo-
niously entered.
"This underground Crusoe explored the
cavern, groping through the slime, keep-
ing close to the wall and picking every step
of the way. He could see nothing, and
the solitude was maddening.
"After walking, he judged, two miles,
Sim came back again to the aperture. This
narrow hole, then, was his only hope of
escape. That hope hung by a hair, for
the opening was ten feet above the floor
of the cave, and the rushing current out-
side made him a helpless prisoner.
"But Sim was game. He would give
Death a merry race. The big lake was
swarming with fish, and the dank walls
and bottom of the cave were covered with
some kind of edible fungus. On raw fish
and this fungus, Sim kept soul and body
together, but it was no Delmonico fare,
you will agree.
"Sim was of an inventive turn, and
how to get into communication with the
outside world now tested his talent in that
line. The only hope, he decided, would
be some means of hailing a passing steam-
boat. There was not one chance in ten
thousand for him to do that. To succeed
would spell rescue. To fail meant death
in its most doleful form, far beyond
knowledge of any human being. Sim had
elected to be a hermit, but he was not quite
ready to shuffle off this mortal coil.
"How long he could live in this damp
and vitiated air on raw food was another
problem. Sim knew a deal about science,
and the discoveries relating to the proper-
ties of minerals. He began to experiment
in the hope of finding some substance that
would strike a light and throw his distress
signal to the outer world.
"While striking stones together this
way, suddenly there came a flash and a
brilliant glare of light shot past him.
Startled, Sim turned his face to the wall,
and there, against the slime, stood a liv-
ing image of himself, as if the very air
had been fused by volcanic heat. Every
feature was perfect, and it stood out in
such relief, it looked so like a live man,
it struck terror to Sim, and, turning, he
fled from it, quivering like an aspen leaf.
Not until he was on the opposite side of
the lake did he dare look back. There stood
that model of Sim silhouetted apparently
in living flame against the cavernous wall.
"Sim was sick with fright. He became
as nauseous as a land-lubber at sea, his
knees smote together and he sank to the
ground. That figure fascinated him. He
began to doubt his senses. Wjas his mind
off tack, he wondered? Or was he killed
in the skiff accident on the river, and was
this an ante-chamber of Inferno, and was
his Satanic Majesty ushering him into tor-
ment by easy stages ?
"Gradually the figure faded away, and
with it Sim's fright. Then his thoughts
turned to the cause of this hair-raising
FAME TUEXED FLIRT.
apparition. Plainly it was in the pulpy
substance which he still held in his hand
— for he had struck a flinty rock against
this substance.
"Was it possible, he mused, that he had
discovered some new mineral or element
with strange, almost supernatural proper-
-. A-hich would not only be the means
of his rescue, but make him famous as its
discoverer as well ?
••Again and again Sim struck that pre-
cious substance, and each time flashed
forth a counterfeit of himself so strikingly
life-like that he recoiled lest the phantom
figure move toward him and speak.
"Sim now worked out a plan to escape
from this living tomb. Ths plan hung on
scanty support, you must admit. But,
treasuring that bit in his hand like a
precious gem, he stationed himself at a
point near the opening into the cave and
began throwing these spooky pictures of
himself into the outer air.
"His eye could command a small stretch
out over the river, and he kept it riveted
on that stretch, day after day, hoping
against hope that a boat would pass with-
in the range of his vision, and by flashing
out a living likeness of himself to the boat
he could pave the way for his discovery
and rescue.
"Late one afternoon, several months af-
ter Sim Xewcomb had disappeared from
his mountain hut, I was coming up
through the mountains with the Hiwassee.
The water was low, and the pilot kept in
closer than usual to the south wall. I was
on the hurricane deck, looking at some
ferns growing on the steep, rocky bank.
Quick as a wink, out of the solid rock a
long, luminous stream of light, like a
comet's tail, gleamed.
"I looked down to the water's edge, and
there for the first time noticed a narrow
opening into the rock. I thought strange
of the mysterious light, but as we were
nearing our landing place, it passed from
my mind.
"AVe were at the Market-street wharf,
Chattanooga, and the darkies were carry-
ing barrels and boxes across the gang
plank, when all at once I was startled by a
negro deck-hand rushing into the cabin,
his whole body a-tremble — the worst-
scared darkey I ever saw.
" 'For heaven's sake, what is the mat-
ter. Jim?' I asked.
" 'Cap'n,' came from between his chat-
tering teeth, 'dere's han'ts on dis boat I
wants my pay. I done tired of dis work
anyway.'
" 'Xow, what bad whisky have you been
guzzling?' I exclaimed in impatience.
" 'Cap'n, I done tole you dere's hair ts
on dis boat. Jes' you come and see.'
"1 followed the negro to the gang-
plank and he pointed to the side of the
boat. Just above the water line, in the
gathering darkness, was the perfect outline
of a man, looking as if it had been burned
right into the wood, and as if the fire was
still burning. Every feature was there as
plain as day. The hair was disheveled,
the cheeks sunken, the eyes wild and ap-
pealing, and the whole ghostly figure had
the appearance of a living man in the
most abject distress. It looked weird and
uncanny, and yet so life-like that I invol-
untarily expected the 'han't' to walk across
the water and ooen conversation with me.
1 tell you I was as scared as any darkey
about me — they had all run like stampeded
cattle from the boat.
"I reckon old Belshazzer and his lords
were not more worked up over that spectre
handwriting on the wall than was I, and
mv darkies, at that ghostly picture.
" '1 reckon dis is no place for me !'
yelled one of the negroes, and away went
the whole pack of them, pell-mell up the
bank.
"I, too. shuffled up to the office on dou-
ble-quick. There was nobody there. I
went on home. Try as I would, I could
not shake off that phantom picture. Its
clammy hands, beckoning in pitiful ap-
peal, haunted me all night. The next
morning I was nervous and could not eat.
I hurried to the office. I found Mr. An-
drew?, the manager, in a great rage.
" 'Winslow. why in thunder ain't you
unloading that boat?'
"I had to invent an excuse.
" 'Came in too late last night, and I
overslept this morning. I reckon the dar-
kies are at work down there now."
" '"Well, I reckon they ain't,' grumbled
Mr. Andrews, 'and that's what makes me
sore. There's not a living darkey down
there.'
"I pretended surprise and anger and
started out to find my crew. Xot a
mother's son could I find. Coming across
some negroes on the street, I tried to hire
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
them to unload the boat, but they would
not go for love or money. I found my dar-
kies had filled the town with the story of
the 'han't/
"The situation was very vexatious to
Mr. Andrews. Merchants were clamoring
for their goods, but nobody could be found
to unload the boat.
"I told Mr. Andrews the ghost story,
and made light of it, not owning up that I
had seen it, and was as badly scared as the
negroes. Then I told him about the flash
I had seen coming from the rocky shore in
the mountains.
" 'There's the place to solve the mystery
— if there is a mystery,' I ventured to sug-
gest.
"Mr. Andrews scoffed and fumed, but
as we could not hope to get a negro to
work on that boat again until it was given
a clean bill that there were no Tian'ts'
aboard, he finally consented to take a
party to the spot where I had seen the
mysterious flashing and investigate.
"I went to pilot the party. In a small
tug we picked our way close up to the
opening. As we passed alongside it, out
came another flash, just as I had seen it
from the Hiwassee, and there, on the
side of the tug was another picture of the
same distressed, appealing figure, but
dim in the daylight. The party all saw it
and even skeptical Mr. Andrews bit hia
lip in perplexity.
" 'I reckon we'll have to hunt down this
spook and put out his searchlight, if we
ever get a darkey to nass here again,' he
said. 'Let's trv to get in there.'
"Easier said than done. Material had
to be brought, piles driven and the water
diverted, then with dynamite we blasted
out a larger opening and entered the
cave.
"The sight that met our eyes gives me
the creeps to this day. There stood a fig-
ure— human, apparition or goblin we
could not make out — emaciated, with its
profile to us, and mechanically striking
its hands together, at each stroke throw-
ing out that luminous trail of light which
made such unearthly snap-shots.
"We shouted to him — or it. Turning,
the figure faced us, glanced at the open-
ing we had enlarged, and — fell in a
swoon.
"That settled it; this was a man. Nei-
ther ghosts nor goblins faint.
"We gathered up this creature, his face
pallid and pasty, his hair damp and mat-
ted and white as a snowball, and his body
so thin and gaunt he seemed a model for
a statue of Hunger. His left hand
clutched a small particle of earth or stone,
which, I noted, fell to the ground as we
carried him to daylight and the tug.
* * * *
"I met Sim Newcomb, bent and feeble
with age, in the streets of Chattanooga a
few days ago.
" 'Winslow,' he said, 'do you know the
keenest disappointment of my life has
been the fact that I lost that little parti-
cle I had clutched in my left hand when
you found me in that cave. I would have
ranked with Edison and Mkrconi to-day
if I had not fainted then from weakness
and excitement.
"Do you know what it was that threw
out that life-line for me — that saved my
life by throwing those ghostly pictures?
I am sure it was radium, in more perfect
form than yet discovered. I know that I
just missed fame and fortune by fainting
at the wrong time. Fame turned flirt, led
me to the point of embracing — then jilted
me.'
"This," said Captain Winslow, knock-
ing the ashes from his pipe, "is how old
Sim Newcomb came within an ace of
breaking into the Hall of Fame/'
BY F. L. HARDING
FOR any other purpose than fishing,
it was disgustingly early to be out
and afield. As red dawn began to
tint the grey horizon, I was telling my
grievance to a sordidly sympathetic boat-
man. How two years before my line had
been wet daily for four unbroken months
in pursuit of a rare species of fish known
to Southern California only — and was
granted never a nibble. How, too, I had
planned, explored, experimented, prayed
and finally cursed my luck when depart-
ing in defeat.
The elusive quarry was a sort of weak-
fish, much like we Eastern chaps round
up in Jersey waters. But this odd fellow
had forgotten to stop growing when he
properly should have, according to Jersey
standards. He often scaled a half-hun-
dred-weight— all grit, muscle and devilish
temper.
I wanted one as a child wants the moon
— and my chances of success seemed about
equally promising.
The fish were erratic, capricious, with
a chronic reserve of manner that froze
the warmest overtures of well-disposed an-
glers. They spurned a juicy bait on prin-
ciple, except at dawn or early twilight,
when a wayward member of the tribe
would at times fall from grace. 'Twas a
halcyon day when the good rod felt the
steel on their onslaught and the tussle
was invariably heroic.
My launch captain had somehow drifted
West with the proverbial "course of em-
pire," from Yorkshire, bringing his un-
der-done speech with him. On hearing
ray tribulations, he shook his grizled head
resignedly, impaling a fresh, still-living
sardine upon mv hook. He glanced
around at the Catalina hills as though
seeking consolation within their tawny
heights. He threw the bait over and fast-
ened his keen eyes upon me. They were
the kind of eyes that go right through you
and button up the back.
"Aye, lad, thee has fared ill, thee has.
This bein' early April, like as not a bonny
stretch o' weather will bring 'em around.
Thee'll be fair amongst 'em an' I canna
bethink as thee'll miss the bleedin' beg-
gars again."
I exhorted him to do his utmost. "Make
good, Jerry, old man: cut out the pre-
liminaries— get busy."
"Aye, lad, that's so. Mayhap a few
stragglers is in already. Yon sends a
sprinklin' of scouts afore the crowd
shoves aroun' the island." That sounded
good to me, and that shadowy attribute
that "springs eternal in the human breast"
began to look up a little.
The spring at Catalina is the "spring-
iest" weather one ever lived in — it makes
the sober citizen feel like standing on tip-
toes, shouting. The air felt like wine to
the lungs, the water, sky, mountains, were
fresh and clean as though the creation of
the world had just been finished. In the
exquisite half-moon bay we were alone,
the other anglers were bustling about the
beach in the grey haze of daybreak, pre-
paring for the day's sport.
Leaning over the boat-side, I could,
from my seat in the stern, see a lively
army of sardines darting and shooting
about in pale green water, transparent as
plate-glass to a depth of thirty feet. Now
a seal or a diving shag would suddenly
cut a wide path through the panic-stricken
ranks. At once, they re-assembled, to
continue their frantic, futile game.
While thus idling, my reel gave tongue.
Instant as this had been, a premonitary
tremor of the sensitive rod had antici-
pated it. Bracing myself involuntarily, I
struck back while recovering my position,
and then braked down upon the whirling
core of line in the reel with the leather
thumb-pad. The Cuttyhunk streamed ir-
resistibly out upon the arched rod, a gray
live-wire whipping viciously through the
guides. It dipped down like an arrow —
yards and yards of it — into that innocent
face of the bay beneath which a mighty
animal had been electrified to desperation
by a stinging fire in its cheek.
54
OVEELANP MONTHLY.
The battle was on ! Expecting the cus-
tomary tactics of a Yellowtail, I settled
back for a royal tugging match, a long
contest of give and take, with little fancy
work or trimmings.
But this clever fish — for his wit showed
early to extraordinary — veered off at an
acute angle and struck out across the sur-
face under forced draught.. With an
abandon bordering upon hysteria, he
raved all over the place, plunging like a
rocket. For three hundred feet he gal-
loped away, towing our heavy launch at
a perceptible pace.
The strain was cruel, but the tackle
out for him. the doublings were wonder-
fully sudden, and the old fellow was soon
puffing and profane.
I sat facing the stern, the rod butt
thrust into a leather cup between my legs.
When the first dazzling spurt had been
somewhat controlled, the old trick of
pumping the fish was tried. Eeeling in a
few turns until the rod tip neared the
water the fingers of the right hand left
the reel-handle and grasped the rod below
the reel-seat with the thumb tight upon
the leather brake-pad. Throughout the
whole maneuvre, the left hand remained
at its position about six inches above the
The launches are well adapted for the sport in every detail of construction.
did better than it knew how! Galled to
a frenzy by this new check upon his free-
dom, the marine free-lance grew deliri-
ous with pain and fright.
The angler must now act like a flash,
guessing at every move, anticipating each
violent burst of flight. So speedy were
the dashes at times that he won a space
of slack line, it must be confessed. But
the hook was in the gristly jaw, and his
advantage proved fruitless.
Old Jerry got out his oars, endeavoring
to keep our launch stern on to the con-
testant in the water. His work was cut
reel. It raised the rod until the tip point-
ed skyward, the motion being as even as
the fish would allow.
This has quietly dragged the puzzled
quarry some four feet nearer the boat
without greatly exciting him. Still at
hazard, vibrating in air between agate-tip
and water, was this precious span of line.
Now to stow it safely away upon the reel
bobbin. Gradually lowering the rod with
left hand, the right took in the line inch
by inch on the descent, and I was again
ready to "work the pump handle."
Patient repetition of this is a death
FIGHTING A FORTY-POUND WEAK-FISH.
Forty-one poun'd Catalina weakflsh caught on
rod and reel.
warrant to any fish, — if the rig holds out.
This analysis of a few simple movements
looks like child's play but the practice is
terrifically complicated by the pitching of
the boat, the snapping nerves of the fish-
erman,— the bewildered terror of the
fish.
Gad, what a fight that old fellow put
up ! He was in a sprinting mood and a
pack of fox-hounds would have found a
maze in his trail. Circling entirely
around the boat, he forced me to scram-
ble to the bow, pass my sorely straining
rod about the mast and battle with his
fury on the other side. Our launch was
now at sea; he was seeking deeper water.
"Thee'll snub 'im now, lad," councilled
Jerry, the acute, "Thee's had a quarter
hour, 'tis time enow. Have done, 'es
failin' fast." His failing symptoms were
not apparent to me as yet. In fact, the
puffing at my end augured well for his
escape. But Jerry was wise in his day
and generation.
The next run melted away to a dead
halt under steady pressure. Now to force
the fighting!
Five attempts at rushes in confusing
rapidity of succession were each nipped
in early youth. A half circle was then
tried but "it lacked the early brilliant vig-
or. Now indeed the fish began to weaken
but the outcome was no certainty. I
was far from as fresh as twenty minutes
before, before the whirlwind had begun.
Pump. Pump. ZEEEEEE! Pump,
now a brief respite, then at it again.
A huge pink, white and brown form of
graceful strength rose slowly through the
clear water. The .huge jaws closed vic-
iously upon the hook shank. He bore off
in a curve, his body pulsating with ex-
citement and distress. Up, up under the
merciless rod work, — up to the side of
the boat. The sun threw off brightly
from five feet of rare magnificence, — a
bar of opal.
Ah, steady, Jerry, boy! Such a beauty!
With a last dash of despair, the great fel-
low strove to flash downward. But in a
splash of spray, the gaff shot out, and the
steel hook sank home.
BY CHARLTON LAWRENCE EDHOLM
IT was ten o'clock, a foggy, lowering
night, as I strolled up California
street from Dupont, arm in arm with
the ghost of the late Sherlock Holmes of
blessed memory.
In the midst of our animated conversa-
tion, shop-talk of royalties, copyright
laws and the profits and losses of author-
ship, we paused suddenly, for out of the
lighted upper windows of a shabby man-
sion, but a few doors ahead, proceeded
that most blood-curdling of sounds, the
voice of a woman wailing in the night.
The voice was very piercing and feline
in quality, the pitch ranging from a shrill
scream to a low, hollow moan. Its flow
of lamentation was seemingly intermin-
able, nor was there any slight pause for
catching of breath ; just one continued
plaint of countless variations.
Immediately before the dilapidated
portal, two carriages waited at the curb.
In the days of gold, when the mansion
had occupied the center of San Fran-
cisco's fashionable neighborhood, scene of
lavish entertainment and new-found opu-
lence flung to the winds, many a smart
equipage must have stood before those
doors of a night, but surely never so
strange a coach as the two we saw that
night waiting before the house of lamen-
tation.
They were mere hacks, of the shabby
variety that stand all night at the plaza
corner, waiting for any disreputable ad-
venturer or tipsy prodigal who may stum-
ble into them, and the drivers were taci-
turn, seedy fellows, with frayed ulsters
and slouch hats; but the scarlet bunting
that draped their vehicles was of the
brightest new silk, caught into rosettes
and adorned with bouquets of gilt paper
flowers.
The coach lanterns were huge paper
spheres, through whose oiled and vermil-
ion-inscribed surface glimmered the
flames of red candles. A little cypress
tree, growing in a pot, stood on the seat
by the driver of the first hack.
All these details were hastily scanned
by my ghostly companion, whose fond-
ness for the lucrative profession of deduc-
ing saleable plots was not dimmed by
death. These piteous wails, the coaches
adorned as for a sacrifice, the grim and
silent coachmen, all appealed to him as
first-class "copy."
"Watson," he began — "I beg pa'don,
me deah fellah, Edholm, I meant, of
course, I would be alone. Come to me
chambers at 'ahlf after seven to-morrow
morning, and I will hand you a typewrit-
ten solution of this mystery ready for
publication, at current rates of payment,
of course."
"Mr. Sherlock Holmes," I answered,
"go to the devil. I'm not your faithful
Watson, and I'll not be patronized by a
dead one; furthermore, I'll stay here and
see the plot thicken."
"Spoken like a man!" exclaimed the
ghost of Sherlock Holmes, as he sought
to grasp my hand with his foggy fingers,
and his misty outline became luminous as
a searchlight in a cloudbank, so excessive-
ly did he beam upon me. "Watson was
really getting to be a deuced bore, don-
cherknow; I daresay you've guessed that
I died to be rid of the fellaJi. Beastly
thing to say, but it's a fact."
A wail of unusual poignancy interrupt-
ed our little love-feast, and we craned our
necks and listened. We were not the only
interested ones : from every be-grimed
window and doorway in the neighborhood
peered clusters of oval faces toward the
lighted upper room. Dark-eyed, saffron-
hued women and girls were these, moved
by the curiosity which is shared by all
the daughters of Eve, whatever their
color.
Maidens in rainbow garments, striped
and silken-pieced tunic, and trousers
adorned with bands of various delicate
LETTERS.
57
hues, lingered and eagerly chatted along
the curb, anon inserting their elaborately
i-oift'ured and garlanded heads into the
dark passage-way, whence the uncanny
sound of distress was now proceeding.
Suddenly the heart-rending cry in-
creased in volume; a rapid crescendo of
grief that was drowned by a fusillade in
the hall, accompanied by a whiff of burn-
ing powder. Then in a cloud of sulphur-
ous smoke, a little fat woman clad in a
dark blouse, and with white socks peep-
ing from beneath her shiny black trow-
sers, rushed out of the doorway and sta-
tioning herself just outside, opened a gay
paper parasol with an upright bunch of
peacock feathers, projecting from the
ferule, and held it above the threshold.
More explosions followed in the pas-
sageway ; we could see the red flashes back
in the gloom, and just as the hubbub of
shots and screams reached its climax, a
second fat little woman, counterpart of
the first, dashed through the volley, bear-
ing on her back a bundle of shrieks and
groans.
Whatever else she carried under the
scarlet silk that hid her burden could only
be conjectured by the two human feet
that projected below the veil. Cramped
in a strange shape and stuffed into em-
broidered baby-shoes with pointed toes,
they were several sizes too small for the
scarlet figure humped over the back of
the panting beldam, but they were un-
doubtedly living, kicking, human feet.
With all haste, the girl — for she sobbed
like a girl — was dumped into the hack,
the door slammed upon her groans, and
the churlish driver whipped up his nags.
The second hack followed, but not be-
fore the ghostly eyes of my companion
had noted that two elegantly-clad gentle-
men (or villains), had taken places there-
in.
As the door of the mansion banged to,
and the neighboring windows were emp-
tied of curious faces, I said to my familiar
spirit :
"Is it an abduction we have wit-
nessed, kidnapping, New Arabian Nights
adventure, or just a fancy nightmare we
are sharing in common? And further-
more, is this the Western metropolis of
our great and glorious United States or
mayhap the city of Haroun-al-Raschid ?
Sherly, my boy, it's up to you!"
"Nothing like this has occurred before
in all my experience," answered the ghost
of Sherlock Holmes, "although my ex-
client, the Baroness Sapphira of Mun-
chausen, often related adventures almost
as strange. I have no clew, no conjecture.
But let us approach the two vagabonds
chatting at the corner — opium users I
judge by their emaciated figures and sal-
low visages — their remarks may throw a
light on the horrid mystery."
They did.
"Say, Joe, wuzn't the gal's brothers
togged up regardless?"
"'Sure ! Them Chinks know how to
blow in the coin fer a funeral or a wed-
ding, same ez anybody."
"But say, Joe, on the square now, don't
it make you think of a white gal, hangin'
back an' lettin' on she don't want to tie
up, the way them Chinese brides squall
an' take on when they leave home ? You'd
think they wuz bound fer the slaughter
house !"
"That's straight, Bill. As Shakesbeer
sez, 'Wimmen is the riddle of the uni-
verse.' "
When I turned, the ghost of Sherlock-
Holmes had vanished.
BY DONALD B. TOBEY
The world awaits with wistful, wond'ring eyes
The tidings of their constant carrying;
For one is bringing thrills of glad surprise
And one at Sorrow's door is tarrying.
I often think that we are much as they —
Brief messages that neighbor-lives affect.
How are we missives written, grave or gay?
And those that read — what shall their eyes reflect?
Vigorous,
restless ,
forceful,
\jo\ce
the
, peaceful,
meditative,
Is tl)e sootVfl voce
of
me. -E.J. R_
f-ir— ^
TKi
BY COLIN V. DYMENT
A BLACK figure from the night
loomed suddenly down the track;
my feet stopped instantly their
listless swinging over the platform edge.
My own apparition must have been quite
as startling to the figure, for it shied like
a scared cougar.
"Good evening," I said, to reassure us
both, and the figure halted, seemed to
gather confidence, then advanced into the
light of the station doorway.
A man in the sheepherder's uncouth
garb stood there. He had the look that
comes so often to his class, when months
of loneliness in remote range districts
have unbalanced them. But this one was
not even a respectable looking herder. His
semblance of felt hat let a narrow fore-
head line show a streak of white above
bushy brows. Two months' growth of
black beard roamed from his bare throat
almost into his eyes. A ragged shirt, gap-
ing trousers and shoes of which the worn-
out toes let sand and cactus in, completed
an equipment unusual even in the deso-
late Nevada lava beds.
A full minute I gazed at this strange
individual. The station agent had gone
to a belated supper. There were no pas-
sengers beside myself waiting the late
Overland, unless the bearded native, sit-
ting just out of sight around the corner
of the station, might be one. Except to
pass a gruff "evening, stranger," when he
first appeared, the Nevadan had said noth-
ing for an hour, and I promptly forgot his
silent presence as the new desert product
stood blinking beneath the station lamp.
Three times the herder tried to speak;
each time he seemed scared at his own-
voice. He tried to peer into the dim out-
lines of sage and sand that blur away by
dav toward the Sierras, on the west, and
Great Salt Lake Basin to the east, appar-
entlv saw nothing to alarm him further,
then turned appealingly toward me.
Broken, trembling words came first,
more to himself than me : "Romany — ah !
It is far,"
" 'Tis a long way to be walking," 1 as-
sented finally. He shuddered ; I wondered
why. Perhaps because the night air had
blown up chill from the Sierra. "Going
that way?" I added.
"Oui, anywhere," and down he went in
a half-faint, beside my drummer's cases.
* * * *
In trips tli rough my desert territory
of Idaho, Nevada and Utah, I had listened
to many strange experiences, but none so
weird as the one this herder told me when
whisky had revived him. Neither thirst
nor hunger had brought him to this con-
dition. That was apparent, for his her-
der's wallet looked half full, and I could
hear the swish of water in his can. "Some-
thing funny here," I thought, as he slow-
ly opened his eyes and seemed to want to
tell his troubles.
"Boss's band of sheep — back in the
desert." He straightened to a sitting
posture and at first spoke haltingly. "Yah-
ah ! Their throats all tore now."
"Who is your boss ? What's your name ?"
I stooped to catch the answer.
"I — I — Pierre, Pierre Gaston. My
boss Winnemucca man, he tell me go out
Black Rock way with the band, an' it is,
ah! you not know, so lonely back there.
The only two times I see a man them
whole four months was the campbov, when
he bring me one bag of grub. When he
throw it down an' ride away, I feel like
my head she whirl, whirl, like this."
""What's the matter with the Black
Rock country, Pierre?" I asked listlessly,
for want of something better. "He's only
a crazy herder, after all," I thought.
"'Ah, Monsieur ! she go so fast, so still,"
he cried, half getting up in excited
strength. Sweat drops ran through the
thick dust on his face; his arms began to
gesticulate.
"I see her first last summer, Monsieur.
I bed the band for night, then I say:
'Jacques, Garcon, good dogs, watch the
nannies,' an' I climb a little butte an' lay
down an' look up at one star. I think
THE SHEEPHERDER'S NEMESIS.
61
about Romany, 'way off there, an' I say:
'Jear — Pierre, I mean — maybe — you
never see Romany any more.' Then I
cry up there on my blanket an' go to
sleep.
"Mon Dieu, Monsieur! Something
make me jump straight up. I look, three
wavs, like this, an' I see one great big
eye, 'way in the desert. It come for me,
an' I not know what. No one live in fifty
mile, an' no one ever go this way. I say :
'Maybe some homesteader man, he lose the.
trail. Where he get that big lantern, I
guess.' Then she get bigger an' bigger,
that eye does, an' throw light in the cou-
lee, this way and that way. Ha ! I run
fast down to the band.
"I am not scared yet, Monsieur, no, no,
I think of them sheep; just how I sa^e
them, an' I say: 'What for you not run,
you sheep? What for you not bark, you
Jacques an' Garcon?' All time she keep
come so fast, so still, an' I stand by the
nannies an' start shake, like this. What
you think ? Not one lif ' her ear, just that
little bit.
'•'Then I not see the nannies, nor the
two dog, nor rock nor anything, only that
eye ; she look big as tub, and she not seem
more as three stone throws. I try turn me
to run. Sacriste! Something hold me
fast, an' I scream : 'Go 'way ; go 'way' —
my gracious. I make them nannies jump.
Ha ! I scare that eje, too. She stop, no,
she turn — she miss me, she go past, but
Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!"
"What was it, Pierre ?" I asked incredu-
lously.
"Face at them windows."
"WHiat windows? Red-eye windows?"
"Ah, Monsieur ! No laugh at me. She
was one train, an' those face —
"Well, you fool, you must have bedded
down by the railroad track, and didn't
know it," I said, and burst out laughing
in reality.
"Ah, I do wish, Monsieur ! but there is
only one track, two days' drive down that
way from Black Rock country. She is one
spirit train, an' those face —
"Well, Pierre." I laughed, "all trains
have people, haven't they, and people must
have faces."
"Oui, but these wear — pity me, Mon-
sieur— 'they wear white grave-clothes. Mon
Dieu! I shall neve'- forget me! One sit
•at every window. Their face is verv
white and their hands very skinny, an'
they rest the face on the hand. They
look like they feel awful. My heart, he
jump so loud ! I make my knee take me
up the little butte again, clean to the top.
I look all round, like this, and I not see
that train any more. I go back to my
sheep, an' they are all settle down, so I
say: 'Sacre, Jean, you like one drunk
man.'
"Next night I bed that band down
quick an' roll up tight. I sleep in half
a jiffy. All to once, quick, my eye stare
up straight again, this way, an' something
seem like it lif me right up. 'Sacriste!
them wolves again,' I say, an' I start for
the nannies.
"Ah, Mon Dieu ! She come again.
"I shake an' shake, Monsieur, for she
come over the desert like last night, out
Devil Coulee way. I put my hands in
front so I not see, like this. I think, may-
be, she not come near to-night. Then I
peep just a leetle through my fingers, an'
Mon Dieu ! she close up by the band. 'Oh,
Virgin, save me !' I think the boss maybe
he not believe I speak true by those sheep
when I tell him how they get kill. He
not know how the great big eye scare a
man. 'way in the lava beds — he only think
why you not bring in the band safe, Jean.
"Ah, good Virgin; she turn an' we are
all save. I put my hand behind my ear.
Listen! Ha! I not hear even the wind
blow. What? Then face again! I see
maybe fifty, maybe hundred, one in each
window. I feel so happy they not look at
me. Ah ! the last of them — no, he not
gone, he take his skinny hand an' he point
it, Mon Dieu! straight for me. Then I
speak. Ha ! I scream an' scare the nan-
nies again, an' all at once, just like that,
Monsieur, I forget. The sun high up
again when I wake. My face like in the
sand, an' the nannies are 'way off, eating.
"I not feel like breakfast, Monsieur, an'
I say: 'Jean, you better go down Red
Butte country. Sweeter grass. You sheep
need moving anyway.' I say to myself
like that, an' I start ten, twenty mile.
Sometimes I look back, an' ha ! them coy-
otes come too. They sneak by rocks when
I look, but all day they keep come, come.
"That night I find homesteader man
shack an' stop. When it get dark, I keep
my two dogs close an' go in an' hide. Up
run them coyotes after a while an' I hear
62
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
the nannies bleat, bleat, an' the throats
tear, tear, like this. I not let Jacques an'
Garcon get out to drive them 'way. No !
No ! I say : 'Lie down there, Jacques ; lie
down there, Garcon: be still, I tell you,'
an' when them dog scratch one door an'
howl 'cause the wolves tear sheep, I strike.
I not shoot my gun at them wolf, either.
One noise tell that spirit train man, may-
be, where I hide.
"Next morning, sacriste! half boss's
sheep dead. I get fresh meat, what them
wolf lef, an' we all hurry. The nannies
are scare like as me now. The sun he melt
me, an' the dust choke me, an' the nannies'
tongues hang 'way down, but I keep say
'Shoo, there ! shoo, there ! Jacques, Gar-
con, why for you not make them sheep
go quicker ?' I go on like that, Monsieur,
till it get dark again, an' I hide in a pot-
hole. I say: 'You dog, you two, mind them
sheep to-night, an' when them wolf come
up, Jacques he run him off; Garcon, he
run him off, too. An' I roll my head right
up in my blanket so I not see something,
if it come. 'Ah !' I say next morning, 'you
safe now, Jean. It is good you lef back
there!'"
My late train, the bill of goods I had
not sold, my tired condition, all had been
forgotten as I listened, almost breathlessly,
to the herder's story. While he was tell-
ing me, with many a gesticulation and
much pantomime, of the midnight spirit
train, sweeping noiselessly across the des-
ert with its load of ghostly beings, his
face was at times convulsed, as if by some
great pain. Even I felt spooky chills at
portions of his tale, and caught myself
glancing involuntarily out toward the
measureless arid area, to see if the creation
of his disordered imagination were not
just showing its "great big eye" out of
some coulee mouth. I did not notice that
the third man, whom the herder could not
see, and of whose existence I had long
been oblivious, had come close to the sta-
tion corner and was standing where he,
too, could hear all that was said :
"Did it come again?" I asked.
"Ah, pity me, Monsieur. She come
again that night, an' the next night, an'
the next night. She come a leetle closer
every night, an' I never hear one sound
like the wind. One night all them faces
begin to look at me, an' I bury my head
in the sand, like this.
"Last time, Mon Dieu! they all point
finger at me. Ha ! how I run. I put my
hand over my ear an' close my eyes, this
way, and never feel when I fall in them
cactus beds. I run till my head she near
bust. Oh, Virgin! I fall over one rock
an' them cactus spines stick in all over,
an' when I wake up, my gracious ! that
sun he high up again an' my sheep and
mv dog Jacques an' my dog Garcon, they
all gone."
The herder stopped short and began to
look doubtfully at me, like a man who
has told too much. His wildness had gone.
His eyes gleamed bright; the unburden-
ing of his ghostly story seemed to have
relieved him. A look of craft began to
take the place long occupied by a hunted
look of fear.
I did not want him to stop now. "Then
what? You came here, Pierre — Jean!
Sav ! You told me your name was Pierre
and you call yourself Jean !"
He looked a trifle defiant and said noth-
ing.
"Is your name Jean ?"
He sprang up .without a word and
would have passed into the night.
"Just a minute." It was the bearded
native behind the corner speaking, and
I rose in bewildered astonishment as his
big frame emerged from beside the shadow
of the station wall and his handcuffs went
around the herder's wrists.
"I'm the sheriff of Elko County, Jean
Brantigne," he said. "I was just going
up Black Rock way myself to look for you.
I heard you'd gone in there."
"What's he done?" I asked the giant
sheriff, when his prisoner was safely hand-
cuffed to the station bench inside, and he
had stepped out to see if the headlight of
the Overland was visible.
"Oh, last spring he unspiked a rail
and threw a train into a gully over in
Humboldt County. Ten poor devils were
killed right out, you remember, and hali
a dozen more were burned up. This ghoul
was robbing bodies when they chased him
off, but he got away. Thafs what lie
dumped the train for, damn him. Funny
how them passengers all come back to
haunt him, ain't it?"
Charles Dickman at work in his Monterey studio.
BY JOSEPHINE MILDRED BLANCH
JUST as the French artists, at a cer-
tain season of each year, leave their
studios in the crowded Quartier
Latin, and, with easel and paint box, find
their way to quaint Barbizon or some
other picturesque environment of Paris,
so the California artist feels that he must
spend a few weeks at least of the year in
the historic old town of Monterey — seek-
ing subjects offered by the inexhaustible
wealth of beauty existing all around — for
truly an inspiration to every beauty-loving
soul is this crumbling old adobe town.
Like an old and priceless jewel in a mod-
ern setting, it lies by the crescent bay. The
grayness of age overspreading its ruins
greatly enhances its beauty, in such per-
fect harmony do they blend with earth,
sky and sea, while around them, • too, is
wrapped a mystery of romance and tra-
dition that gives wings to the imagina-
tion. As the after-glow of a sunset or
the aroma of (fading flowers do these
crumbling adobes appeal to one.
Both in and around Monterey the ar-
tist sees on every hand subjects that fas-
cinate him— for Nature here is prodigal
of her allurements. The time-seasoned
rocks, the wind-tossed cypresses, their
gnarled trunks bleached into ghost-like
whiteness by the strong, salt winds; the
sturdy live-oaks breathing vigor and
warmth, the restful grain fields with their
back-ground of dark pines, the glistening
whiteness of the sand-dunes, vivid with
light and color — all as subjects attract the
artist to the place.
About thirty years ago, such men as
Tavernier, Julian Rix and Joe Strong
came with brush and palette to reproduce
64
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
on canvas its beauties, mixing with the
pigments of their paint their rare appre-
ciation. About this time came also those
of literary ability; here Gertrude Ather-
ton spent some time, and it was here that
Robert Louis Stevenson, storm-tossed on
the ocean of life as he was, ill, "a stran-
ger in a strange land," and awaiting a
literary fame yet to be won, found com-
fort and inspiration. His notes of the
life in this early Spanish town are among
he has painted some of the pictures that
have found an admiring public not only
in California, but in New York and Eu-
rope, and given him a world-wide reputa-
tion as a water colorist. Farther over the
hills, we come to the most beautifully lo-
cated studio Hn all Monterey, that of
Charles Rollo Peters. It is a spacious
studio, built "far from the madding
crowd." From its windows one sees the
sapphire bay stretching miles below, and
A very recent picture of Eugene Neuhaus — "A Gray Day in Chinatown."
3iis choicest 'bits of description. Wftien
such rare, natures have sought Monterey,
we cannot wonder that so many noted
California artists have pitched their stu-
dios here.
In a picturesque adobe over which a
rose-bush of enormous size reaches, and
which is called "The Adobe of the Rose-
bush," made historic by a romance of the
long ago, Francis McComas had his stu-
dio for many years. In this quaint place
the sleepy old town nestling in the valley.
Here, surrounded by nature, undisturbed
by sound, save song of bird or whispering
of pines, Charles Rollo Peters is king in
his "castle of dreams." It is here that he
dreams, on canvas, those beautiful moon-
light effects of sleeping adobes upon
which the moonlight falls as gently as the
blessing of a nun. Charles Dickman hats
one of the most charming studios in the
old town. He seems to revel in sunlight
The gate-way of William Adams' studio.
66
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
effects found here. It can be said of
Dickman that he is the painter of Cali-
fornia sunlight. His canvases teem with
light and color, yet so true are his values
and such harmony of tone prevails, that
one i? convinced of the exquisite refine-
ment that may exist with color. If he
paints an adobe wall, the sunlight gleams
against it, making it a mosaic of rare
beauty. If he paints the sea, under his
brush it becomes a tremulous rainbow full
of prismatic changes; if a field of grain,
over the yellow slope you see long, pulsing
waves of heat and color. The subject of
one of the most beautiful canvases he has
After her return from Paris some years
ago, Miss McCormick sought Monterey as
a field for work, and so conscientiously
has she applied herself to nature here that
her work is full of the character of this
locality. It is full of feeling and vibrant
with life and color. Evelyn McCormick
ranks with those California artists who
paint with intelligence and seriousness.
Among the studios recently added to
the list are those of William Adam and
Eugene Neuhaus. Eugene Neuhaus
comes from Berlin, and though having
been in California but a short time, has
found a place among the prominent paint-
The historic "Old Pacific House," in which Evelyn McCormick now has her studio.
painted is a country road scene near
Monterey. Long evening shadows tone
the canvas to the low key of the late af-
ternoon, the lowering sun sending
through passing clouds one glorious shaft
of lighW- the day's good-bye.
Up a creaking flight of steps and
around a seemingly never-ending veranda
of the old historic hotel, "The Pacific
House," in a quaint room made most ar-
tistic by hangings of rare old shawls and
furnished with many interesting antiques,
we find the studio of Evelyn McCormick.
ers. His work is strong and virile, pos-
sessing that most essential quality, spon-
taneity. He has done much strong work
in and around Monterey, and has chosen
the "gray days" as the key-note to most
of his pictures. One of his most character-
istic sketches is "A Gray Day in China-
town." William Adam, formerly of Scot-
land, and a member of the Glasgow Art
Club, has a charming studio filled with
interesting work. Mr. Adam chose Cali-
fornia as his home about six years ago,
though during that time having revisited
The "Adobe of the Rose-bush," owned by Signorita Bonifascio, in which Francis McComas
paints his charming water colors.
68
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
EngLind, Scotland and France. He has
brought with him excellent work. You
can wander with him in his sketches over
Scottish Moorlands, purple with heather,
through quaint English rural scenes and
charming bits of France.
These are but a few of the many inter-
esting studios dotted here and there on
the hill slopes around the old town.
In a few years, "the old Monterey"
will have passed forever: it will live only
in art, immortalized by those who
have told her story by word or pic-
ture.
C. S. COLEMAN
Beside the mountains and the sea she stands,
While o'er her watch the kindly, happy skies,
A queen of mighty peoples, noble lands,
The glories of the future in her eyes.
For her no gods of dim, forgotten days,
No kings a-slumber where the long years smile —
The past knows naught of her or of her ways —
She dwelleth not in lang'rous lotus isle.
The East may keep the mysteries of the dead,
For her the secrets of the years to be,
She does not stand 'mid ruins with bowed head,
But gazes far into futurity.
The stars look kindly on her, and the sun,
While wide before her waits the joyous sea,
For well they know her way and Fate's are one —
The Queen shall be the bride of Destiny.
And we, we children of the regal West,
Our toils are hers, our dreams are all of her,
For in our souls (thus we are trebly blest)
We feel the spirit of an empire stir.
'Tis true we dream, but we are workers, too,
And this the lesson through the years we learn-
We build an empire such as no man knew,
We gem a crown a Caesar would not spurn.
BY JAMES WILLIAM JACKSON
^T TNT1L Wednesday, at two
-. o'clock, then; and I think my
^"^ promotion to the superintend-
ency, with fifteen hundred a year, will be
one of the wedding presents. Good-bye!"
Wednesday morning had come, and the
young engineer looked up for a moment
from the drawings on his desk and gazed
out of the shack window toward the curl-
ing smokes of the far-away city chimneys.
There, in the distant valley, was the dear-
est girl, and within a few hours he would
marry her.
Houghton was a fledgling engineer.
Away up here in the hill-tops his firm was
building a reservoir for the city. It had
been a long summer, miles away from the
girl ; but the reward was coming now, and
on this crisp autumn morning Houghton
felt the jubilation of maturing happy
plans.
He resumed his work with as much in-
dustry as his truant thoughts would per-
mit. Just now his mind persisted in
dwelling on the coveted promotion. He
had found favor with his chief, nis work
had been eminently satisfactory, and he
knew somebody was going to get that
promotion very soon. He had no grounds
on which to prophesy 'his own elevation,
but the conditions were very favorable.
Hi? meditations and work were inter-
rupted by the opening of the door. Look-
ing up he found his chief standing there.
"Houghton," Mr. Smalley began, and
Houghton afterward remembered that the
chief seemed a little embarrassed, "Thorn-
ton is not in this morning. I must ask
you to finish his drawings. I want you to
hurry them through before night."
For a moment, Houghton was speech-
less. Then, with a sudden sense of relief,
it occurred to him that Mr. Smalley must
have forgotten the day. Houghton al-
most laughed to think how funny that
was.
"Why, Mr. Smalley," he expostulated,
with a genial air, "you know I go off at
noon. This is my wedding day."
Mr. Smalley's brow contracted in a
large, unsympathetic frown. "I realize
that perfectly," he said, with a trace of
testiness. "But, my dear fellow, you
know the wisdom of work before play. I
can't lay off half a hundred men just be-
cause the drawings are not ready."
"'But," and Houghton's voice rose to a
high pitch of protest, as he stood up and
faced his employer, "think of my situa-
tion, sir. I can't finish those papers be-
fore six o'clock to-night, and I am due
for the most important engagement of a
man's life at two. I simply can't stay
here all day. It — it — would be ."
He couldn't think of any better term at
the moment than "highway robbery," so
the sentence broke in the middle.
"Very well," Mr. Smalley commented,
easily. "If you think it is out of the
question, I have nothing further to say.
I can command you only so long as you
stay in my employ. You understand."
Mr. Smalley turned to the door, leav-
ing Houghton in a figurative heap be-
side his desk, his mind troubled with a
drowning man's lightning-like review of
the situation. Only Sunday he had said
that he hoped one of the wedding presents
would be a promotion to the superinten-
dency at fifteen hundred a year. Now he
was on the verge of throwing over a situa-
tion at ten hundred. True, he felt justi-
fied in such a course after the preposter-
ous demand ; but — could he think of mar-
rying without a situation. Love in a
cottage was all very well; but a thousand
dollars or fifteen hundred was much bet-
ter. He was just about to plead for a lit-
tle time to think when his employer fore-
stalled him.
"Better take a little time to make up
your mind, Houghton," Mr. Smalley sug-
gested from the doorway. "Then if you
feel that you can't stay, say so."
Houghton went savagely to work for an
hour before he allowed himself definite
thought on the subject. He knew, how-
ever, that it was useless to think of finish-
70
OVEELAND MONTHLY.
ing his task at two o'clock, and at the
end of an hour he threw down his pencil
and considered the situation.
"Great Scott," he moaned, "where did
I ever get the notion that Smalley had any
milk of human kindness in his heart?
And as for giving me a raise, he is as
likely to cut down my salary in pure con-
trariness. But I can't help myself. Net-
tie will have to wait until I can get there,
after the work is done."
He drew a sheet of paper over on top of
his drawings and wrote enough of the
story to indicate an unavoidable change
of the wedding hour from two to eight
o'clock. "Believe me," he concluded, "I
can't help myself."
He took the letter into the office of Mr.
Smalley, and found that ogre busy at
Iris desk.
"I've decided to finish the drawings,"
Houghton coldly explained.
Mr. Smalley merely nodded, without
turning his head.
"May I ask you to have this note sent
over to the town, sir?"
Houghton laid this note as he spoke at
Mr. Smalley's elbow. There was no ac-
knowledgment, no word. Apparently it
was too trivial a matter for the attention
of such a great man. Houghton stood
by irresolutely an instant. He was half-
minded to take the note back, put on his
hat and coat, and then leave the office. If
he could have telephoned, there would
have been no need of a note, but the only
means of communication with the city
was by carrier.
Houghton ended in leaving the note on
the desk. Then he went back to work.
For several hours he lost himself in the
intricacies of lines and plotting; but af-
ter a while a dispirited mood took posses-
sion of him.
"To think of a man's wedding being
spoiled in this fashion," he told himself,
"and Smallev supposed to be a close
friend of Nettie's father. Ugh! He
makes me sick."
The hour of two struck as he came to
a point in the drawings where some blun-
der had been made with the figures. There
was a short-line telephone in the office,
connecting with the work on the reser-
voir; and he crossed the room to call up
the field for the necessary figures.
He was just about to explain his dif-
ficulty, after receiving an answer to his
call. Instead his lips closed with a snap,
as if he had been struck suddenly dumb.
He was unable to speak until the voice at
the far end again demanded his attention.
"Thornton, what the dickens are you
doing over there? I thought you were
home, sick. Who sent you there?" and
there was both vehemence and undis-
guised irritation in Houghton's tones.
"Say," came back a good-natured
drawling voice, "how long you been boss
on this ranch? You don't mean to say
that old Smalley has died since this
morning and willed you his job? Other-
wise you better change the tone of your
commands, or I'll lick you the first chance
T get."
"I beg your pardon, Thornton," Hough-
ton murmured over the wire, too ruffled
to be gracious. "But I was so surprised
by your voice. Smalley won't let me off!
said you were not in and that I would
have to do your work; and here you are
down in the Superintendent's berth.
What does it mean?"
Thornton's voice was heard chuckling
in unfeeling amusement. Houghton
clenched his disengaged hand as he list-
ened.
"Sorry, Houghton," Thornton drawled
back, complacently ; "I really thought you
were going to get this. Imagine my as-
tonishment when the old man sent me
here and told me to say nothing about it.
I haven't said anything, either, mind
you." But Houghton waited to hear no
more. With manifest irritation he pre-
ferred his request for the needed figures.
The long afternoon dragged out. It
was not until half past six that Hough-
ton breathed a sigh of relief and mut-
tered another malediction on the head
of Mr. Smallvjy.
Gathering up the drawings (he took
them into the inner office and laid them
on the chiefs desk in front of the empty
chair. They were well done, he knew;
at least there was that satisfaction to re-
deem the spoiled day.
"When I get a chance to work for a
more reasonable master," he muttered,
"I'll take advantage of it and spoil your
miserable career. Your conscience will
smite you for losing such a talented sub-
ordinate, see if it doesn't."
Smiling grimly at his own vanity and
THE PATIENCE OF JOB.
71
somewhat refreshed by his apostrophe to
the empty chair he was about to leave the
office when his eye lighted upon a famil-
iar object. It was the note he had -writ-
ten at nine o'clock that morning!
"By all the furies/' Houghton ejacu-
lated; "this is the limit of endurance.
Not another stroke of work will I do for
this man."
He snatched u1"1 the note with a half-
formed determination to seek out his
chief and wreak out a satisfying ven-
geance.
"Before I take . my tools away from
this place," he promised himself, "Smal-
ley shall hear from my lips what a low
down, miserable creature he is. The de-
mons take him, if such a small soul ;s
worth the trouble."
He had torn the note into a hundred
pieces and thrust them into his pocket.
He threw on his coat with an angry ges-
ture that nearly ripped it up the back.
Jamming his hat on he passed out and
sprang into the waiting carriage.
"Drive!" he commanded; "drive as if
the No !" he mentally thun-
dered to himself; "I won't swear on my
wedding day. I haven't lost my temper
yet, either; though I will when I meet
that conglomerated caricature of a — Oh !
what a poverty stricken language this is !"
He gave himself up to speculation.
What must the peoplle think of him ;
what must the poor girl be enduring all
this time? "Due for a wedding at two
o'clock. Here it is nearly seven and —
and — neither of us married yet," he con-
cluded, lamely.
All his personal preparations for the
wedding had been made before he left the
office. When the carriage drew up at the
house he jumped out and ran up ths
steps without loss of time.
There were no acclamations. He was
admitted, without any tearful demands
for an explanation, shown to his room
and left alone.
After a little while he was ushered into
the presence of the waiting guests. The
unruffled minister was there; so was the
fiendish Smalley. Unconscious of the
damning denunciation that was to come
when there should be time, the wretch
posed as an honored, happy guest.
Then came the bride on her father's
arm; and the radiant picture drove from
Hough ton's mind all uncouth and un-
timely thoughts.
It was long after the ceremony before
leisure and quiet came to the young peo-
ple; and meanwhile Houghton, the hypo-
crite, had smilingly acknowledged the
congratulations of the hard Smalley.
But now they were alone and Hough-
ton allowed himself to look into the bles-
sedest eyes. They met his with the ful-
lest reciprocation.
"Dearest," she said, "wasn't it too bad
the Bishop should be delayed, and have
to telegraph us that he couldn't be here
until evening? You must have been
dreadfully disturbed when Mr. Smalley
gave you my message."
She stopped for a moment to compen-
sate him.
"See," she added, then, holding up an
envelope; "a wedding present that we
haven't opened. Let's look."
It was a business letter he had, dated
and so forth. But the gist was:
" . . . . It gives me pleasure to enclose
a check and a two months' leave of ab-
sence for your husband. I have taken
the liberty to test him; and I know he
will make me a good and patient superin-
tendent. I am keeping the place for
him."
And it was signed by that contempti-
ble caricature of a Smalley.
Houghton sought an adequate ejacu-
lation, but the poverty-stricken language
proved as ineffective as he had found it
earlier in the day. Like the brave, pa-
tient man he was, he took refuge in action.
"You'll make a sterner-looking super-
intendent with your mustache shaved off"
— was her irrelevant observation.
BY FLORENCE CROSBY PARSONS
WITHIN recent years, many hon-
ors have come to the great com-
monwealth of California, none
of which outrank in splendor or in pro-
phecy the crown she has won as Queen of
climatic conditions, furnishing a superior
vantage ground for the sweep of the
"magic mirror" when it shall swing to
the motion of the universe — the largest
telescope the world has ever seen.
To the far south, the ramparts of the
Sierra Madre lift their serrated heights
forever to north and east above the famed
San Gabriel Valley, where, upon its loft-
iest peak, Mount Wilson, at an altitude of
6,000 feet, has been erected a fine solar
observatory 230 feet long, with steel frame
and canvas cover, giving it the appear-
ance of a splendid ship about to sail out
over the crags and steeps and voiceless
canyons, above the vast pine forests that
clothe the mountain-sides, away over the
fair valley with its vineyards and orange
groves; away, away, into the limitless
blue of the vaulted sky.
This white-winged ship contains not
only a horizontal telescope, but is equip-
ped with a variety of other instruments
— clocks, short and tall, photographic ma-
chinery and an array of scientific para-
phernalia that seems, indeed, the work of
a magician to the ordirary poor mortal
who follows the professor about in a dazed
and confounded condition, secretly hop-
ing he looks wise, and can manage to
stammer : "Oh, certainly !' "Ah, yes !" in
the right places.
The situation is relieved by the fact
that the courteous conductor, Professor
George E. Hale, never by word or look as-
sumes that you cannot understand his ex-
planations, or are not perfectly familiar
with astronomy throughout its heights
and depths.
The observatory is in charge of this
genial professor, a man still young in
years, possessing rare charm of manner,
so modest, in fact, that he seems unaware
•of his rank as one of the foremost astron-
omers in the country; that his fame has
gone abroad as inventor of the spectro
heliograph, an instrument for photo-
graphing solar phenomena, and for his
recent discoveries upon the sun.
When Mr. Carnegie gave ten millions
to establish the Carnegie Institution of
Washington, the largest grant accorded
to any one department, amounting thus
far to over $300,000, was allotted to as-
tronomy.
The observatory shops, built and main-
tained from this fund, and wherein are
made all the instruments for use upon the
mountain, are located in Pasadena, that
beautiful city whose name means "the
Valley's Crown."
Astronomers, especially, seem so filled
with a sense of the immensity of the uni-
verse, and of their own comparative in-
significance, that they are very modest
men, and oft-times retiring, keeping much
within the realm of their own thought.
All this wonderful work in the shops is
under the superintendence of Professor
George W. Ritchey, who possesses both of
the above-named attributes. Apparently
unconscious of the boast he might make
as standing among the leaders both here
and in Europe, in his chosen field of as-
tronomical photography, and the con-
struction for this work of reflecting tele-
scopes.
The great center of attraction just now
is the huge glass that was cast in St. Go-
bain, France, remaining in the Yerkes
Observatory optical shop for five years
awaiting funds for its completion, when
it was brought to Pasadena, where for
two years it has been under the eye of
Professor Ritchey during the long and
careful process of "grinding and figur-
ing."
Do not suppose that the public are ad-
mitted, even on visiting days, into the
very presence chamber wherein this splen-
did mirror rests upon its iron throne.
They must pay their court through the
medium of a glass panel.
Mt. Wilson Observatory.
THE WORLD'S GREATEST TELESCOPE.
75
The impression is of looking into an
operating room, rather than into a shop.
The walls and floor are carefully washed
— above the mirror is stretched a canvas;
directions are given through a speaking
tube, the workmen don surgeon's caps and
aprons, performing their labor behind
closed doors — all these precautions lest
dust from the Everywhere, the very motes
in the sunbeam, should gather upon the
delicate surface.
Notwithstanding constant vigilance,
particles will float upon the forbidden
ground.
This mirror is 60 inches in diameter, 8
inches thick, and weighs one ton. As it
rests upon the turntable it resembles a
huge wheel of ice into whose green depths
you can look as if it were a frozen block.
This lovely coloring in green is a sur-
prise to the beholder, who thinks to see the
mirror clear or about as white 'as a win-
dow pane.
In the work of grinding, fine emery and
water are placed between the grinding
tools and the surface of the mirror.
When the surfaces are properly
smoothed, they are coated with pure sil-
ver, that metal furnishing highest reflec-
tive power. The concave front is the op-
tical surface, the other side being polished
approximately flat, and silvered because
the changes effected by the temperature
would otherwise be unsymmetrical.
Before it was decided where to place
this great telescope, various points were
visited and their merits considered. The
severe winters at Yerkes make the as-
tronomer's work difficult, and as the San
Gabriel Valley has a large percentage of
cloudless days, it is hoped to find much
advantage in the clear atmosphere and
altitude of Mt. Wilson, a peak destined to
be no longer unknown to fame.
And now the 60-inch mirror is to be
outmatched upon its own grounds. A
citizen of Los Angeles, Mr. John D.
Hooker, has placed at the disposal of the
Carnegie Institute fifty thousand dollars
wherewith to purchase and prepare a disc
of glass that shall be one hundred inches
in diameter — the largest reflector lens in
the world. This mammoth wheel will be
eighteen inches thick, and weigh four and
one-half tons.
Professor Ritchey explains that "this
thickness is necessary that the glass shall
be sufficiently rigid to retain its perfect
form, and even then it is necessary to
support the back and edges by an elabo-
rate system of plates, levers and weights
to prevent the flexure of the mirror when
the telescope is in use."
The great French manufacturers of St.
Gobain have agreed to undertake the cast-
ing. Prof. Hale says : "It will be an ex-
tremely long and difficult operation to cast
and anneal such an immense mass, but
in view of their experience, we confident-
ly count on a successful outcome."
Meanwhile, larger shops must foe built,
machinery for grinding and polishing
be designed and constructed, together with
apparatus for lifting the glass.
Prof. Hale asserts that this 100-inch
telescope will give seven and a half times
as much light as the most powerful pho-
tographic telescope in use, and two and
a half times as much as the 60 inch reflec-
tor now being made.
He further declares. "We cannot tell
whether atmospheric conditions even on
Mt. Wilson will be perfect enough to meet
the demands which will be imposed by the
great size of the telescope."
Although the 60 inch lens will be ready
within this year for its mounting, it will
require about four years to complete its
marvelous successor.
The work is by no means done when
the glass receives its coat of shining sil-
ver.
Think of taking 250 tons of metal,
huge iron castings, up a narrow mountain
trail, at its widest only twelve feet, pre-
vious means of transportation having been
the backs of sturdy little burros.
Even the stoutest of these strangely
wise and sure-footed creatures could hard-
ly be expected to climb eight miles up
those perilous steeps with the precious
mirror, weighing a ton, strapped upon his
back!
For months the famous trail has been
in process of widening and smoothing, at
a cost of $25,000, under the skillful hands
of Japanese laborers, who deserve unlim-
ited praise for the marvel they have
wrought. But at its best it is a dangerous
road, subject to disaster from mountain
rains and from boulders falling from
above. To carry such heavy materials to
that altitude, a special truck has been
constructed by the Couple-Gear Freight
76
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
Wheel Company of Detroit.
Much interest and enthusiasm was
shown when the long, red-painted auto-
mobile car appeared for its trial trip up-
on the streets of Pasadena. A storage
battery could not furnish power for four
motors, so a gasoline engine of forty
horse-power is connected with a dynamo
which generates the electric current.
The direct transmission of power to
each wheel is effected by a series of elec-
tric motors, one in each wheel, which is
operated on its own axle so that shortest
possible turns may be made.
There is a separate gear for each set of
wheels, or the four may be steered to-
gether. The weight of the truck is eleven
thousand pounds. A trap door in its cen-
ter allows portions of the castings to sink
within its depths to bring the center of
weight as low as possible.
The 60 inch glass is not to be mounted
in the observatory now in use upon "the
peak/' but will be placed in a metal
building having a steel dome 60 feet in
diameter, to be erected the coming sum-
mer by men sent from the Union Iron
Works of San Francisco, where all the
heavy castings were made. The fine at-
tachments and delicate machinery for ad-
justing the telescope, together with the
driving clock, have been fashioned in the
Pasadena shops. Next April the auto
truck will begin carrying up materials for
this dome, and last of all, some time in the
autumn the famous glass will make the
ascent. If the four years' work upon the
100-inch lens proves successful, another
and larger building will be prepared upon
the mountain top to receive it.
Since that day when "the morning stars
sang together," men have striven to in-
terpret the symbols blazoned upon the
vaulted sky by Him who sitteth "above
the circle of the earth."
Throughout the ages they have groped
amid the splendors of astronomical science
— now and then discovering a marvelous
law, ?. rolling planet, a burning sun.
The work of the astronomer is but dim-
ly comprehended, to a very large extent
unappreciated. Who stops to think of him
up there in his lonely watch tower fairly
wrestling with the spheres for science's
sake ''
He knows much of severe midnight,
yes, all-night toil, of solitude, oft-times
of bitter cold, of terrible stress upon
nervo and brain and muscle, as with the
world asleep, he sits motionless, yet with
every sense alert, his keen eye upon the
great glass which shall perchance reveal
ere the sun comes again from out his
chamber in the east, the path of some new
star, the orbit of some whirling planet.
Powerless to "loose the bands of Orion,
or to bind the sweet influence of the Plei-
ades," nevertheless, he can do his heroic
part toward swinging this old world up
into clearer light, into fuller knowledge.
"There is no speech nor language where
their voice is not heard." The faint, far
sound, mystic as the music of the spheres,
felJ upon the ear of astrologer, magician,
divinator, among the ancients, gathering
volume when heard by astronomers in
Egypt, in Greece, in Chaldea, vibrating
yet louder as Copernicus. Galileo, Her-
schel, bent their heads to listen.
Yet none of these ever dared to drear
or prophesy or picture to the imaginatioi
the wonders that may be within the grasj
of modern research, when away up amon£
the solitudes of the hoary mount, the
mighty lens turns its shining eye of silver
upon the starry heavens declaring the
glory of God, the firmament showing HU
handiwork.
BY CHARLES FRANCIS SAUNDERS
The wind broke open a rose's heart
And scattered her petals far apart.
Driven before the churlish blast
Some in the meadow brook were cast,
Or fell in the tangle of the sedge;
Some were impaled on the thorn of the hedge
But one was caught on my dear love's breast
Where long ago my heart found rest.
IHlrana® <smdl
BY LIZZIE GA1NES WILCOXSON
WHEN it became a settled fact
that Mrs. Dutcher Lombard-
Hill's sister was coming to visit
her, Mrs. Hill began to look for a house.
During her two years' residence in San
Francisco she and her husband had occu-
pied apartments in a semi-private hotel.
Now, to find a house to suit her, and be
within her means, became the haunting oc-
cupation of her life. After three weeks
of search she gave up the idea of being
suited, and the question narrowed down
to something that would possibly do. Eent
agencies were her daily haunts. The clerks
thereof came to know her and wanted to
run and hide when she came in.
At last, in sheer desperation and weari-
ness of body, she chose a house on a
"twenty minutes' walk" recommendation,
and an assurance from the agent that he
would be most obliging in the matter of
repairs and sundry coats of calcimine.
The morning following her decision,
Mrs. Hill visited the place again. This
time she was unpleasantly impressed with
the nearness of a dilapidated little house
on the west side, and a double flat on the
east side. She had been so weary the day
before that these details escaped her, in
view of the fact that the house itself pre-
sented as few objectionable features as
any she had examined.
"Dear me/' she sighed, "I hope the
people in the flats will not have more than
half a dozen children to each family."
"They are very nice people," assured
the agent soothingly.
"Possiblv," rejoined Mrs. Hill, wearily,
"but that is no guarantee against large
families of small children."
As they made a tour of the west rooms,
Mrs. Hill again noticed the dilapidated
cottage on that side.
"That place is vacant," she observed.
"I do hope when it is let only quiet people
will live there."
"I am sure you will find this a very de-
sirable neighborhood," rejoined the agent,
with a slightly aggrieved air.
"I hope so," sighed Mrs. Hill.
At any rate, to hope for the best
was all she could do now, and the work of
preparing the house and furnishing it be-
gan and went briskly forward for a week
or ten days.
In the matter of cheap pianos and child-
ren the double flats proved less of a nui-
sance than Mrs. Hill's fears had antici-
pated, and it was with a feeling of real
satisfaction that she began to settle in
her new home.
"I like it much better than the hotel,"
she confided to Mr. Hill one morning at
breakfast.
"I always told you that you would, if
you would only try it," was the husbandly
rejoinder.
"I don't remember your saying anything
of the kind," answered Mrs. Hill.
Then Mr. Hill cast some reflections up-
on the unreliability of a woman's memory,
which, in turn, brought forth an acrimo-
nious retort from Mrs. Hill, and the re-
sult was a smart tiff. When Mr. Hill left
the house, he shut the front door with
a bang that demonstrated that, after all,
a home is never really a home unless it
connects directly with a front door.
Mrs. Hill was too self-centered to be
more than temporarily unsettled by a
domestic difference, but nevertheless, the
disagreement ihad its aftermath. This
came, first, paradoxically enough, in the
form and likeness of a beauty-doctor.
Mr. Hill was a man of decided preju-
dices, but "prejudice" is far too mild a
word to apply to his utter detestation of
this feminine humbug. Mrs. Hill was
78
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
abundantly aware of his attitude, and up
to then had respected it, not so much, it
must be admitted, from a sense of wifely
duty as from the circumstance of having
an exceptionally fine complexion, bright
eyes and beautiful hair.
But the past strenuous month had told
on her. Miles of hard pavement, more
miles of noisy, wearisome street-car rid-
ing, had combined to haggard her. As
she raised the window shades, letting in
a harsh glare of sun, she caught a view
of herself in the sideboard mirror and
noted the pallor of her complexion and
dullness of eye. Peering in, she discovered
with a shock two tiny wrinkles under her
eyes, and another threatening her neck.
To look old Mrs. Hill considered the most
terrible affliction that life could possibly
hold for any woman. Owing to a good
constitution and a life of comparative ease
she had so far preserved herself from
alarming symptoms of age; therefore, she
was all the more overcome by these signs
of advancing age.
It was at this psychological moment
that the doorbell rang, and the maid
brought Mrs. Hill a card bearing the le-
gend: "Mme. Loraine, representing Mme.
Lippette, dermatologist; facial blemishes
successfully removed; traces of age ob-
literated ; consultation free."
What took place at the interview be-
tween Mrs. Hill and the representative of
Mme. Lippette would not have been hard
to guess the next day as Mrs. Hill stood
before a small cabinet and carefully
placed therein one large bottle containing
a whitish liquid; one medium-size bottle
of pink buttermilk appearance; one fat
tin box of grease; one squatty white jar
of pomade; a package of medicated cha-
moise, and last, a flat, small box, con-
taining a limp, crawly little square, to
which was attached four little tapes. It
was a Face Beauty Mask. Mrs. Hill took
it out and gingerly unfolded it. As she
spread it lightly over her face and looked
at the effect in the glass, she did have a
vision of Mr. Hill when he should come
to kiss her good-night.
"Gracious me ! I wouldn't blame Dutch
a bit for getting a divorce if he
should see me with this thing on. I will
have to take my treatments and wear it
some time during the day while he is
down town. It would be a crime for any
woman to let her husband see her lookin*
like this."
This was the day after the tiff, and
Mr. Hill had brought home theatre tick-
ets and a new fan for his wife the evening
before as a peace-offering, and harmony
was once more restored. So Mirs. Hill
locked the cabinet door, and instead of
boldly presenting the bill for the beauty
paraphernalia, as she had intended doing,
she took the more pacific course of charg-
ing it up to housekeeping sundries, and
keeping her transactions with the blonde
dermatologist a secret from her husband
* * * *
It was perhaps a week later as she lay
in bed late one morning that she gradu-
ally became aware of an odd bustle and
a wordy vibration without her west win-
dow. The sounds were singularly choppy
and unintelligible. They were accompan-
ied by slamming of doors and banging
of heavy articles. She arose and looked
out. What she saw filled her with amaze-
ment and anger. The dilapidated little
house so near her west window was inhab-
ited. Its tenants were scurrying here and
there in night-shirt-looking garb and san-
daled feet. Pigtails of varying length
and glossiness switched and undulated as
they moved and chattered. They ap-
peared like a colony of insects, each intent
on some individual task, and yet all work-
ing together. Before the steps stood a
black-covered wagon and a bony, rat-
tailed horse. Over the door was already
inscribed : "Yip Hung, Hand Laundry."
At the window directly opposite Mrs.
Hill, and into which she bent her aston-
ished and wrathful gaze, stood a gaunt
Chinaman in a white, scant garment, bare
legs and sandaled feet, busy at an ironing
board. Verily, a full-fledged laundry had
sprung up in the night and was now in
operation.
"This is an outrage !" exclaimed Mrs.
Hill. "I shall speak to the agent about it
at once!"
The agent was attentive and full of
sympathy, and promised to do what he
could. But the next day when she called
again, he expressed his sorrow that ha
was unable to influence the unworthy citi-
zen who owned and rented that particular
little house.
"Everybody ought to move off the
block!" angrily opined Mrs. Hill.
THE TANGENT OF A TIFF.
79
The agent gave a shrug indicative of
the futility of such a course.
"Such a thing is possible to occur any-
where in San Francisco/' he commented.
Thereafter Mrs. Hill's life became one
great protest directed against things in
general, and one fat, placid, sphynx-like
Yip Hung in particular. She felt anew
a sense of outrage every time she looked
out of the west windows. Now and then
strong whiffs of opium smoke and gushes
of steam rose up to her angry nostrils.
At such times, it but added fuel to the
flame to see Yip Hung sitting on a box
in the middle of the room, drawing deep,
contented puffs from a long-stemmed pipe,
serene, prosperous, giving one an impres-
sion of an immense, sleepy, fat, motionless
spider.
On Sundays another exasperating fea-
ture obtruded itself on the west view. It
was the shady side of Yip's laundry, and
a long line of Celestials would come out
and sit there the live-long afternoon and
comb and queue their hair.
In spite of Mrs. Hill's baneful looks
and ill wishes, Yip Hung's laundry throve
and prospered, and ever and anon a new
ironing board was added. In time, it re-
quired two black covered wagons to con-
vey the laundry, and Yip Hung, full of
peace and plenty, daily grew fatter and
richer.
After a period of this tranquil prosper-
ity, the tide turned. It may have been
that Yip was forgetting his gods; it may
have been an ill luck in that in his greed
for American dollars, Yip ground his poor
workers down to a point that forbade bod-
ily nourishment, and for this cause Li Wo
quite suddenly fell down beside his iron-
ing board one hot day and quite as sud-
denly died.
This untoward incident necessitated a
total suspension of operation in the
laundry for at least twenty-four hours, for
though callous indeed had prosperity
made him, Yip would not defy the tradi-
tional superstition that one must allow a
spirit time to take a leisurely departure
from the scene of its labors, from whence
it is unable to go as long as its customary
work is being performed by others. So
the fire died down, and most of the work-
ers went off to Chinatown and others went
to bury the dead. Yip waddled about the
deserted ironing room, feeling ill-used
and cursing his luck. He paused in front
of the mantel, and stood observing him-
self sulkily in the stationary mirror built
above the shelf.
So stood Yip; and his thoughts were
upon his tribulation. Suddenly, like a
flash— a wink — there lept into the clear
surface of the mirror a terrible face. A
most terrifying face. A ghastly, dead face
from which rolled two eyes like balls of
fire ! A horrible dead face without a
body.
Yip gave a strangled scream, and as the
face did not vanish, he screamed again,
and sank down from sheer weakness of
terror, and hid his face in his flapping
sleeves.
From that day disaster pursued Yip
Hung. Evil days fell upon him. Valuable
pieces of wash became variously miscar-
ried. Several aggrieved customers took
away their patronage. Others threatened
arrest if the missing articles were not
produced. Some refused to pay for large
washes from which alleged articles were
missing, but gave him additional large
washes for which he sadly suspected he
would likewise get no pay. Families
moved out of his ken, leaving from two
to five weeks' bills unpaid. His helpers
struck for higher pay.
It was a chastened Yip who sat draw-
ing long puffs from his long stem pipe one
afternoon some three weeks after that
terrible day. Since the incident of the
awful dead face, Yip had kept a cloth
pinned across the mirror. Now as his
dull gaze rested unseeingly on the cloth,
quickly, as if an unseen hand had snatched
it loose, the cloth dropped from a dis-
lodged pin at one end. Yip uttered a
hoarse cry and half arose, pointing a pal-
sied finger at the undraped glass. A dozen
pairs of startled, beady eyes followed the
movement. They saw nothing save the re-
flection of the ugly wall, the door space,
the stove pipe, and their own yellow vis-
ages. Nothing unnatural in that. Noth-
ing to so agitate their placid boss. In
obedience to a hoarse command to replace
the cloth, half a dozen of them sprang
toward the mantel. Lo ! In that second
flashed out and faced them — the dead
face!
Every Chinaman in the room had a
glimpse of the horrible thing as it hung
a moment and then vanished.
80
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
Twice more, even before the terrified
workers could make a move, it flashed
back and re-vanished. Then like possessed
creatures, the Chinese clung together and
chattered like monkeys.
Oh, that ghastly face! Its living eyes!
Its awful dead flesh.
Some of them fled without ceremony.
Others fell to the floor calling upon the
gods — among them Yip.
An hour later, Mrs. Hill heard an un-
common activity among her detested
neighbors, and went to the west window
to look out. What was her astonishment
to see half a dozen Chinamen tumbling
things out of the house in a conglomera-
tion, while another lot of Chinese gath-
ered them up and pitched them promis-
cuously and frantically into -the two laun-
dry wagons. In less than an hour more,
the last queue, the last ironing board, had
vanished.
"It looked like some forcible eject-
ment," commented Mrs. Hill to Mr. Hill
that night at dinner. "But thank Heaven,
they are out! I wonder what the next
will be. It can't be worse, that's one con-
solation."
The next day — now no longer having
a prejudice against sitting by the west
windows — Mrs. Hill re-arranged her west
chamber furniture, and in doing so, she de-
stroyed the angles the other position had
created with the mirrors in her room,
that, by the aid of a hand mirror — occa-
sionally held in a certain position — had
thrown her reflection across the way into
Yip Hung's mirror when she sat at her
dressing table taking her treatment and
wearing her beauty-mask.
BY EMMA PLAYTER SEABURY
Morning — a daisy field, ripples of laughter,
Children asport like the fairies, with flowers.
Bobolinks bubbling their melodies after,
Childhood and beauty engarland the hours.
Gold and white daisies, tinted with clover,
Sky of azure, an afternoon ;
Clouds like foam flakes nickering over,
Balm and breath of the fragrant June;
Merry groups in the ambient glory,
'Scattering leaves of the daisy, in glee,
Telling each other, the sweet old story,
"He loves, she loves, or he loves not me."
Daisy field in the dusky gloaming,
Evening star and the late birds' trill,
Groups of twos in the daisies roaming,
Telling the sweet old story still.
Hush and the moon, and the soft June weather,
Daisies and clover, and summer and dream,
Souls drifting out to the future together,
With sails of gossamer-love supreme.
BY ALFRED DAVIS
DEATH Valley is ugly, ugly and ut-
terly desolate. Cactus and sand,
sand and cactus as far as the eye
can reach, to the north, to the south, to
the east and to the west. Not a single
tree or green bush is there in all that
dreary waste to vary the great monotony.
The sun above, usually riding in a clear
sky, pours down its fiercest rays upon the
sun-baked plain with unrelenting force.
Here and there a rattlesnake lies stretched
out in the torrid sand, while now and then
a skinny prairie dog will pop up from the
yellow dirt and then dart down again
with the rapidity of lightning. Once in a
while a buzzard wheels its dizzy flight
along the misty horizon. Save for these
no signs of life are found in all that vast
solitude.
Far to the north a great cloud of dust
might have been seen on a certain day in
mid-summer, hurrying along before a
breath of wind, lost probably in that deso-
late land. Out of the cloud as it swept
.over the brow of a hill, the form of a
man appeared outlined against the deep
blue sky. He paused on the crest and
seated himself. A tall fellow he was,
dressed in a manner typical of the place,
calculated to render the heat bearable,
while his searching eyes that looked out
from two narrow slits bespoke the fron-
tiersman, through and through. He sur-
veyed the barren stretch before him with
the easy manner of one familiar with the
scene, and as his eye roved over the plain
it rested upon a dark spot which seemed
to be emanating from the haze of the west-
ern horizon.
The figure moved irregularly, frequent-
ly pausing as if bewildered, then again
moving on, on, until coming to another
abrupt pause.
"A man," thought the plainsman, "a
man as sure as hell, and coming from the
Funeral hills." And as he started down
the hill in the direction of the traveler,
he cursed the creature for a fool thus to
tempt the Almighty.
The wanderer, his head bent toward the
ground and his eyes red and blistered from
the intense heat, stumbled on, now in one
direction, then in another, as if uncertain
of his way. Then of a sudden, he threw
his head back and laughed long and loud,
but the laugh ceased when he beheld the
plainsman. He started towards him,
mumbling incoherently, then paused and
gazed unsteadily upon him. Again he
laughed, wild and hoarsely, and broke in-
to a tottering run, away from the ap-
proaching figure. Finally he stopped,
turned again, and again started on, but
his strength seemed suddenly to leave him
and he fell face downwards in the sand.
The plainsman rolled the wanderer up-
on his back and pillowed his coat beneath
the head of long unkempt hair. Then,
taking a flask from his pocket, he poured
the contents into the mouth of the suf-
ferer. The eyes opened slowly, as if in
pain, and when they fell upon the other's
face they seemed to start slightly, then
closed again.
"Which way was you head in', friend,
before you got mixed?" and the plains-
man repeated his question twice before the
feeble answer came.
"Never mind me, never mind. Let me
alone. I'm about ready to pass in and
there ain't no use of you staying here. You
know where there is water ; get there your-
self ; you can't take me."
"Sure, I know where there is water,''
and he gazed closely into the other's face.
"Water enough for both of us."
"But ain't you Jack Young?" The
eyes of the other opened half in joy and
half in pain. "There, I knowed you was.
find didn't you save my hide a dozen times
from the Vigilantes, and wasn't it you
that I done on that mine deal?"
"Never mind, Lou; that's ancient his-
tory, and it wasn't all your fault. Lou, we
will call it square," and as he tried to
offer his hand, he sank back again into
a swoon.
Lou Tobin stood for a moment looking
82
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
upon the man. "I reckon that will be
quite a bit of a pull/' he muttered, glanc-
ing at the sun. "But, Jack, I played you
dirt once when you did the square thing,"
and he was silent again, the scenes and
days of other years crowding fast upon
him.
The sun's rays beat down with all the
intensity of their force when Tobin gath-
ered the mere shadow of a man in his
arms and started at a brisk pace across
the desert in the direction of the sunset.
Hardened as he was to the toil and the
heat, yet the burden caused the sweat to
fall in great drops from his face and hair.
Now he would fix his eye upon some dis-
tant knoll, and then with unceasing effort,
he made the summit and again his eye
caught upon a sand hill, but he never
allowed it to survey the valley between.
His feet became hot and swollen and he
tried to spit, but it was a failure and he
smiled. "I reckon this would make a
pretty decent grave yard for Jack and
me,' the man remarked aloud. "We lost
our grub stakes here and I ain't been do-
ing much more since then, but losing
grub stakes." A snake rattled ominously
at his feet, but he passed over it, not
thinking. On, on he traveled until his
arms became cramped and he had to pause
in his way. Depositing the body care-
fully upon the ground, he took off his
hat and mopped the flowing sweat from
his brow.
The sun was still to live some minutes
but it was the great pile of black clouds
in the east upon which Tobin riveted his
gaze, and he yelled in sheer delight, but
the cry was strangely muffled and weak.
"Bain, damn you, Jack, it's rain; do
you hear?" but the man heard nothing,
and Tobin looked down again. "I'm a
fool, Jack; maybe it's rain and maybe it
ain't," and he raised the body from the
earth, but the burden seemed twice its
former weight. A mysterious haze cov-
ered the landscape, while the eastern heav-
ens were a mass of dark and rolling clouds.
Two coyotes followed at a safe distance
behind the wanderers, and like shadows
stopped when they paused and went on
again when they continued.
"You ain't got no soft feet to deal with
here, you cyoteroes. Git out, both of
you," and Tobin hurled a handful of
gravel toward them, and laughed to him-
self when it fell only a few feet from
him.
"I reckon we better wait right here for
that rain, Jack. I might make it alone,
but I don't believe I would find you here
on- the way back. I reckon we better wait
for the rain," and taking a piece of bread
from his pocket, he ground it into pow-
der and poured it into the mouth of the
mat).
The haze had grown thicker, and the
sun had dipped out of sight behind the
hills. A small pack of coyotes squatted
on their haunches back under the heavy
clouds. The heat was most oppressive,
and the plainsman's arms were strangely
stiff and sore while his tongue was grow-
ing parched and dry.
Suddenly the black pall was rent
asunder by a great blaze of light, and a
deep peal of thunder rolled over the soli-
tude.
"It's coming, Jack, old pard, it's coin-
ing," and he turned the man over that his
face might receive the first drops. Then,
rising to his feet, he lifted his hands in
silent supplication to the great storm.
He could see the rain falling in torrents
above him, and there just out of reach it
wasted away in vapor. .His brain was
muddled and confused. He rushed to a
little rise in the land, and there, too, the
rain seemed only a few feet away, but
never reached the earth.
"'Damn it all, can't you see that we're
dying," cried the man, again raising his
hands toward the tantalizing clouds that
rolled on and on until at last they passed
down beyond the western horizon, and
the calm twilight, horrible in its very
serenity, rested upon the earth. Without
a word, Tobin turned back to his friend,
and with difficulty raising him in his
arms, he struggled on. He shook his head
violently when an unnatural darkness fell
before his eyes, and once he paused and
gazed intently upon the sand at his feet.
He sank to his knees. Yes, there rain had
fallen, a scanty bit indeed, but rain had
fallen there.
A new life thrilled him as he struggled
on, and the sand began to show signs more
and more of having been moist. His head
was bent to the ground, his arms were
shaking violently, when of a sudden and
without realizing it, he came to a hill-
top. There in a basin in the valley below,
DEATH VALLEY.
83
a pool of water lay, brightly sparkling un-
der the light of the moon that had now
risen. The heavy earth clung tenaciously
to his feet. Twice he fell and lay for a
moment, pressing his lips to the damp
earth. He pointed to the water hole ahead.
"Water, Jack, water. The old frog-hole;
you remember the old frog-hole, Jack,
where you held 'em off for me. Kemem-
ber the time, Jack?" and he patted the
breast of the man as it rose and fell like
a child's in sleep. "But never mind ; T
almost fergot what we come after," and
he tried to rise to his feet, but the burden
was too heavy. Again he tried and the
struggle was continued. Once he stum-
bled on a cactus bush, and fell, the need-
les piercing his flesh.
The night was bright and sultry, even
for the valley. The pack of coyotes fol-
lowed noiselessly a few yards in the rear,
but Tobin saw nothing save the water,
which sometimes seemed only a few feet
away, then fully a mile. He realized how
precious each moment was to him, but
try as he would, his stiffened joints re-
fused to obey him, and his arms seemed
to have been pulled from their sockets.
Suddenly, a dense darkness came over
him, and he fell to the earth. A huge
rattler passed over the prostrate bodies,
and Tobin watched it with a grin of ha-
tred. <rWe ain't good enough fer you, eh ?"
the man whispered huskily, "but we're too
good fer you, you sneakin' devils," and
he shook his fist at the pack of coyotes,
the silent spectators of many a tragedy in
Western life.
Again and again he tried to raise his
companion, and again and again he failed.
All at once his senses became most clear.
The moonlight bathing the landscape was
real, all that vast waste was to him as it
had been for years past, and there ahead
and swimming before his gaze, lay the
frog-hole.
He tried hard to get to his feet
but sank to the ground with each effort.
At last he lifted the body to his back, and
started on all-fours ; a painfully slow jour-
ney to the hole. Unseen castus pierced
his iiands, and one was so badly torn
that he wrapped his hat about it.
Foot by foot, yard by yard, he lessened
the distance to the water hole.
Again the deadly black was coming be-
fore his eyes, and his breath came hard.
He tried to raise a hand to his face. The
stars seemed shooting in fitful showers
about him, his brain became confused.
Then, with a shudder, he pitched forward,
forcing the body down upon the sand. The
coyotes cautiously approached, and there
about them set up a lonely howl that
shivered back and forth across that
mighty solitude.
BY ALOYSIUS COLL
Look on my studded bulk of steel,
The dent and painted scar !
Is this the drab intent of •wrath,
The shadowy lust of war?
Nay, I am built for noble peace,
And kings have given me
A hoty charge — to guard and keep
The covenant of the sea !
Look to my tiers of mated guns
That gleam from deck and port!
Is this the challenge of the strong
To battle's deadly sport?
Nay, this is freedom's ponderous task —
To train the bold and brave,
That love may bloom in every land,
And peace on every wave !
My voice a driven thunderbolt,
That tyranny may hear;
My glance the flash of lighted clouds.
That every foe may fear;
And every shell that blurs the targe,
A rainbow on the sea
That winds of blood shall break no more
Over the world, and me !
A threat in every port, a mute
Volcano in my keel,
A thousand leagues of surging foam
I fling my risk of steel:
Yet never a cannon lifts a toast
Of water from the barm
But drains a silent pledge of peace
To every gathering storm !
Latin and Hun, and Turk and Don,
Shall crowd the far-off strand,
And hear my thunders preach the price
Of war in every land —
The blood of sons, the mothers' tears,
The woes that never cease —
And, taught the awful scourge of war,
Will keep the gift of peace!
\
Presenting
July's
Actresses
and
Actors
Miss Marlowe and Mr. Sothern in "Jeanne d'Arc" at the Lyric Theatre, Kew York.
go!
Louis James as "Falstaff" in "The Merry Wives of Windsor."
Hall, N. Y., Photo.
Aphie James, with Louis James.
Aphie James, with Louis James.
Geo. Parsons, in "Daughters of Men," at Astor Theatre, N. Y.
Photo by KIrkland Studio, Denver, Colo.
Charlotte Tittell.
BY M. GRIER KIDDER
MAKEIAGE, without divorce, is
condition without the possibility
of change. I may want no change,
but if I do, I want to know just where to
lay my hands on it. As the Texan said of
the pistol : "I mout never want it, but ef
I do, I'll want it wus'n h 11." Tell-
ing my wife and me that we shall live to-
gether unhappily, is giving us hell to
guarantee us heaven. Marriage is a con-
tract, and until mortality puts on infalli-
bility, contract without reservation is
risky. I burn no bridge spanning a river
I can't swim.
I believe in the "sanctity of marriage''
until it conflicts with the sanctity of com-
mon sense; and if my wife and I cannot
insure sanctification without a series of
mutual bickerings, we shall drop sanctifi-
cation for separation. Forbidding divorce
to the married who do not want to live
together is as absurd as forbidding mar-
riage to the unmarried who do. As to
the right of divorce impairing the respec-
tability of marriage, it is the only right
that marriage wants to perfect its respect-
ability. The old marriage was all rite
and no right.. A proclamation of eman-
cipation never hurt anybody.
The male sex is the oldest trust on earth
and woman has ever been its prey; but,
after all, slavery is more to blame for
tyranny than tyranny for slaverv. Arro-
gance rarely comes uninvited by humil-
ity; meekness is an eternal invitation to
insolence. Let the wife keep her individ-
uality, for as long as she knows that the
twain that became one can become twain
again, she will understand that "peace-
able secession" can do more to abolish
slavery than '"war for the union."
Woman's body has been wrestling with
everything; her brain with nothing. She
proves her "domesticity" by the size of
her family; her "amiability" by her meek-
ness; her "masculinity" by talking sense;
her "unwomanliness" by "talking back";
the rudimentary state of her brain by her
inconsistency. Philosophy may be "ad-
versity's sweet milk," but the solace of
famininity is tongue. And after ten
thousand generations of tongue have sung
the lullaby of the female brain, who won-
ders that it sleeps? And, mark me,
woman will be a "grown child" until she
asserts her equality with him to whom she
has given life. Man's most difficult task
is bearing with her who has born him and
giving her a chance in the world into
which she has ushered him "with the
sweat of no vulgar agony and with groans
that cannot be uttered." He who stands
by her in that holy and fearful hour with-
out honoring the sex, good and bad, is
one "whom it would be base flattery to
call man."
Of course, woman's freedom will come
and be followed by a social reconstruction,
compared to which our political recon-
struction was a pleasant surprise. But we
shall have the destructive cause before the
reconstruction effect. In the dark days of
my childhood, "woman's rights" were
man's wrongs; no respectable woman
dared to seek refuge in divorce. Until
lately, I abhorred the thought of divorce
and woman suffrage, but I have changed
my mind. I may rechange it; there is no
telling anything about my mind except
knowing I mean what I say when I say
96
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
it. An opinion formed on impression
may justify a change, but when anchored
to conviction, nothing but mental weak-
ness condones variety.
Loveless marriage is a contract to peo-
ple penitentiaries ; an incubator for hatch-
ing idiots. There may be no marriage in
heaven, but there is heaven or hell in mar-
riage. I object to any union that counter-
feits that second place and raises the devil
and children together. A large number
of marriages are mistakes making more
mistakes. If you have been foolish enough
to make a mistake, don't be too foolish 10
remedy it. We hear that "divorce dis-
graces the children." Does parental squab-
bling confer especial honor on the off-
spring? anything particularly elevating in
one of these matrimonial duets whose re-
frain embraces everything from flattery to
flat iron? What do you expect when tyr-
anny beerets and hate conceives? As to
knowing each other before marriage, you
cannot do it; you must marry and pray
that the introduction be not too abrupt.
Experience is the only thing that
starves simpering sentiment and nourishes
common sense, courtship is intoxicated
theory: marriage, sober practice. And
though the first introduces to the second,
only association breeds familiarity. Until
you serve an apprenticeship to the thing
itself, you are just so much theoretical
cross trying to usurp a practical crown. I
should rather be chained to the devil's
grand-mother with a cold chisel in sight
than be united to an angel with no possi-
bility of release. Tying me is tiring me
unless I can shift my anchorage when the
spirit moves me. Better hell with a re-
turn ticket than heaven without a neces-
sary furlough. Whether this arises from
my contrariness or my love of variety, I
have not determined.
I do not want marriage to die out, but
I want several to die out before marriage.
Too manv marriages mean too many child-
ren; too many children, too many pau-
pers; too many naupers, everything bad.
Divorce has its evils, but the evils of lib-
erty are evils trying to be blessings.
License is counterfeit liberty, overgrown
freedom, runaway rights, and breeds won-
drous wickedness. But when license
springs from liberty, that very liberty
has been wrung from slavery. To prevent
immoderate liberty, we must moderate re-
strictions; expansion is born of contrac-
tion; revolution is only evolution making
up lost time. If I have to halter my wife
to guarantee her domesticity, I shall 1
her go. Now, along comes a cer
prominent man and charges the socia
evil to divorce.
As long as a demand for anything ex-
ists, it will exist. We cannot cure this
thing, but we may, in a measure, prevent
it. But sentiment is no preventive; there
is no more romance in this curse than in
the poverty that causes it. The soc
evil is one of the many children of des
tution; its mother, poverty; its father,
man. The "poverty, not .the will, con-
sents."
If I were a woman, I should prefer om
divorced husband to ten children. Until
I kept house and did my own cooking, I
laughed at woman's trials. I thought
"woman's work is never done" because her
talk is not. I had a bed room and a kit-
chen, and the more I cleaned the more
they needed cleaning. "Good Lord," I
said to myself, "what a wise provision it
is- that keeps an old bachelor from having
a baby !" Yet how many women cook for
a large family and keep a house and a
half dozen children clean. The majority
seem to think that as motherhood is sacred
a woman's sanctity increases with every
baby. Now, I don't think so; I think
feminine sanctity neither increases nor
decreases with children. I have given the
matter my prayerful attention, and I be-
lieve the old maid is just as abounding in
grace as the sister who has multiplied and
replenished. An abuse is dignified by age
and custom, two almost invincible allies.
Most folks think an abuse stands b
cause it deserves to stand; when, in fa
it stands because they don't understa
it. True veneration halts short of vene
able humbug. Conservatism as natura
opposes the new as it revives the dying,
resurrects the dead and baptizes the still-
born; but there is little knee-crooking
fore the healthy recent.
Divorce is woman's new and onl
friend ; the qnly thing that arrays itself
on her side without design on her pocket
or virtue. And she is beginning to see it.
Of course, when that idea gets fairly into
her head, it will feel mighty lonesome till
it breeds others. It won't take much
abuse to make the coming wife the goi
THE LAIR OF THE BEAR.
wife. She is going to belong to herself;
she is going to see that while motherhood
is pretty good evidence of womanhood, it
is not all the evidence.
Of course, the improved woman won't
be perfect; at least, I hope she won't; I
have no fear of the future letting loose
upon us a flock of wingless angels. But
I look for a marked change domestically,
socially and politically; I believe that
when woman has the power, she will im-
nrove several things in her own precipi-
tate wav. There will be just as many
mean women, but fewer meaningless ones,
less sentiment, less nonsense, too. Of
course, for a time, she will abuse her new
liberty as much as she abuses spasmodic
liberty she now tastes so rarely. But her
arrogance will be only the temporary re-
action born of slavery. She will act like
all the newly emancipated, till familiarity
with freedom teaches her that doing every-
thing she pleases may become as irksome
as doing nothing she pleases.
As she now is, I should rather be ruled
by old Nick than by her. In the first
place, he is used to authority, and goes
only so far; then, from long association
with him, I understand him and can to
a certain extent anticipate his wishes. Be-
sides, as the negroes say of an indulgent
over-seer, "he gives me time to ketch my
breff." But when a <woman starts to
drive. God pity the driven; be he man,
dry goods clerk or horse. My greatest
pleasure is serving a woman till she con-
founds civility with servility. Woman,
has little sense of personal responsibility,
and what her mind finds to do she does
with all her tongue. This is because every-
body takes her side. Nobody blames a
woman for anything until some man ruins
her character; then she is said to "have
encouraged him/' Her every fault is the
natural and necessary result of her out-
rageous treatment; her virtue, a sweet
flower that blooms in spite of it.
As to honesty, she is, when dishonest,
negatively so; man, when dishonest, is
positively so. Her dishonesty lies in keep-
ing; his in taking. Where one woman
cashier purloins money, fifty men cashiers
do. But a contract signed by a woman is
prone to sink to the dignity of waste
paper. As she is in business, so she is in
love. I have tried her in both. She never
approaches a conclusion gradually; in-
variably jumps at it, and he who would
argue her out of an "impression" has
more time than judgment. Her convic-
tion does not depend on the logic offered,
but on the receptivity of her mind, in
love she must be carried by assault, "flags
flying and drums beating." Think of ar-
guing an indifferent woman into matri-
mony; reason has no more place in love
than mathematics have in romance. Do
I know that to be a fact? I should
smile ! I have always attributed my sin-
gle state to the profundity of my logic.
Her mind is all anchor; her imagination
all sail, and the mental pap that nourishes
the infant sustains its mother. Her brain
has been digesting trifles so Ion"- that a
sound idea gives its owner intellectual
dyspepsia. Her mental gastric juice is
like man's moral gastric juice — somewhat
diluted.
No breathing thing lacks the tendency
to tyrannize. Strength abuses weakness
as naturally as rascality bunkoes foolish-
ness, and the temptation to sit down, on
something soft is one of the cardinal char-
acteristics of human nature. Wioman will
as certainly equal man mentally as she
now surpasses him morally. "Keep her
from liberty till she learns to govern her-
self" has ever been the slogan of tyrants,
the motto of masters.
Slavery as a preparation for liberty sug-
gests lying as a kindergarten for truth;
pocket-picking as a <niarantee of future
honesty. We Southerners claimed that
God started negro slavery, as a necessary
step toward the conversion of the negro.
And the result? Nine hundred and ninety
negroes in a thousand will steal and all
the black women have the morals of white
men.
M:m is divided into the caught, uii-
caught and afraid-of -being-caught, and
when vou hear one of these bepanted ves-
tals hurrahing for his moral reputation,
attribute it to "good luck rather than to
good company." I do not claim that a
man may not be morally pure and alive
at the same time, but what is the use of be-
ing anything good if you can't make folks
believe you are it? Woman's safeguards
are her natural purity, her training, and
the merciless penalty following her trans-
gression. That divorce imperils these
safeguards, I most emphatically deny.
Simple separation, on the contrary, with
98
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
no marriage in view, I hold to be different.
The isolated wife occupies a position pe-
culiarly conducive to temptation. Driven
from one home and forbidden another,
she is a social exile, a domestic queen
without a kingdom.
'Tis to such as this that desperation,
that fierce consoler of the friendless, ap-
peals. I may be short on grace and some-
what deficient in reverence, but I hold that
a divorced person, by marrying again,
evinces a desire to profit by experience.
That good children may come from dis-
cordant parents I admit; heredity is not
infallible ; the son of a cat may not catch
a mouse. I presume a prize puppy may be
bred from two mad dogs. But when such
takes place, I charge it to reversion,
rather than to immediate descent.
As to divorce tending toward free love,
you might as well charge infanticide to
marriage. The anti-divorce advocate
looks upon a fractured marriage as just
so much negative adultery ready to as-
sume the positive phase. I remember when
divorce was considered by everybody, but
the divorced as a disgrace. In those
days, the married quarreled until death
did them part; whom God joined together
the devil himself couldn't separate. Yet
I don't believe that the old folks were bet-
ter than we. Coerced love is half siste
to hate, and if perfect freedom is not the
essence of affection,.! am greatly in error
Two people living together because thej
have to are hardly an improvement 01
two who won't live together because the
don't want to.
Divorce laws can't warrant moralit
any more than religious persecution cai
guarantee religious unity.
Thousands would to-day be good hus
bands and wives if they had remedied ui
happy marriage with divorce and re
marriage. Is marriage so sacred that tt
correction of its blunders is a sacrilege:
Should any contract be aught but a roj
of sand whose stipulations are adverse
the happiness of the contractors? In
judgment, happiness is the only aim, anc
only what conduces to it is sacred. Whereii
lies the reason in legislating two people
endowed with cat and dog proclivities int
lasting matrimonial "bliss?" Marrias
should collapse with the love that su
gested it. It may have its trials, but it
should not be a trial. Think of a coupl
priding themselves on their fortitude h
enduring forty years of married hell witl
the divorce heaven in sight, with its offer :
"Come unto me, ye who do labor, and ai
heavy laden, and I will give you rest !"
Please Mention Overland Monthly in Writing Advertisers
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xl
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2126-2128 California Street, San Francisco
Boarding and Day School for Girls
CONSERVATORY OF MUSIC, LANGUAGES,
ART. ELOCUTION. ACCREDITED.
Telephone West 844
ENAMELS
Oak, Cherry, Mahogany, Walnut,
Rosewood or Transparent
THE HAMLIN SCHOOL AND VAN NESS SEMINARY
2230 Pacific Ave.
For particulars address
cTWISS SARAH D. HAMLIN
2230 Pacific Avenue,
San Francisco Telephone West 546
The Fall term will open August 12. 1907.
FOK OLD OR NKW FLOORS, FURNITURE AND|WOODWORK
Wears like Cement— Dries over night with Brilliant Gloss. Contains no
Japan or Shellac. Write at once for Free Booklet, Color Card and List of
Dealers. TRIAL CAN FREE [send lOc to pay postage] Enough for a Chair,
Table or Kitchen Cabinet. ADDRESS: "FLOOR-SHINK" CO..ST. LOUIS. MO.
Sold by Hale Bros., Agents, San Francisco
and A. Hamburger Sons, Los Angeles
If you are a dealer write for the Agency
What, School?
WE CAN HELP YOU DECIDE
Catalogues and reliable information concerning all
schools and colleges furnished without charge. State
kind of school, address:
American School and College Agency
384, 41 Park Row, New York, or 384, 3I5 Dearborn St., Chicago
I HAVE been reading the "Reminis-
cences of a Sportsman/' by J. Par-
ker Whitney, and I have enjoyed the
book, for it is more entertaining than its
title would indicate. It is a large volume,
printed in clear type, and written in ex-
cellent English. Mr. Whitney is more
than a sportsman. He becomes at times
a philosopher and an historian of no mean
merit. The book possesses the additional
advantage over books by sportsmen and
others who write "nature" studies because
it is written in the language of a man
who does not write of any period or of
.any event of which he personally has no
knowledge. You cannot help feeling that
•everything that Mr. Parker has written is
truth,, and because of this, some of the
episodes that are detailed in this volume,
and which might be garnished with much
sensationalism by a less careful or con-
scientious writer, possess a remarkable
charm in the reading.
Mr. Whitney's experience has ranged
through far territories, and beginning at
a time when little or nothing was known
of the county and up to the present of
which we know so much, he has been a
leader of men and an observer of events.
Tales of these men and these events he
has reduced into a sort of autobiography
and this is the volume he has called
"Reminiscences of a Sportsman." I
should say that the book would form one
of an anthology of the West, and its de-
velopment, and while much that is there
written is of the sport of the wide our-
doors that much is merely a piquante
sauce to make the rest appetizing to tin
reader. I have read many books of travel
and have rarely, indeed, found a book
by any one afflicted with the "wander-
lust" that has held my attention through-
out as did this volume.
Forest and Stream Publishing Co., N.
Y. 1906.
* * *
The Overland Monthly is in receipt of
the Annual Report of the Smithsonian In-
stitution for the year 1906. This volume
is simply an index to the work done by
the Institution during the year, and a
recapitulation of the additions made to
the U. S. National Museum. It is is-
sued bv the Government Printing Office.
The Treasury Department has just is-
sued the report of the Life Saving Ser-
vice for 1906. We find an extended re-
port of the work of the life saving crews,
located near San Francisco, during the
strenuous days of the great fire. There
were 485 days' succor afforded to an av-
erage of sixty-six persons a day at the
stations at Point Bonita, Fort Point,
Golden Gate and South-side. During the
nights of April 18th to 21st, there were
one hundred and fifty people sheltered
by Keeper Varney. From April 19th to
May 31st the station at the beach issued
some 30,000 rations for applicants for
food. The life saving crews mentioned
were of great service to the city during the
fire.
* * *
"The Great American Pie Company"
is one of those little skits, the product -f
a brilliant mind, dashed off in an idle
moment, and brimful of cutting sar-
casm, trenchant, quiet wit. Ellis Parker
Butle^ will be accused of having written
the story for the purpose of belittling
the methods of some of the very top-
heavy industrial concerns in the country,
in their attempt to "hog" everything that
there is around that is not nailed down.
It is true, the comical ending of the great
trust does not carry out this idea, but
it is full of fun and logic. It is a little
bit of a book, printed in large type, and
containing only fourty-four pages, but :t
is worthy of thoughtful consideration by
young and old. It is illustrated by pen
sketches, by Will Crawford, and is pub-
lished by McChire, Philips & Co., N"ew
York.
Please Mention Overland Monthly in Writing Advertisers.
xl
MODEL M
The
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—Always Ready"
Kind
A Summer's Pleasure
Almost any Family Can Afford
This applies to keeping the car without extrava-
gance, as well as buying it. With a Cadillac
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traveling than you could afford to do on a train,
more evenly distributed and with far greater
enjoyment. Always ready, stanch and reliable,
with the style and finish of the higher
priced cars.
The Cost of
Keeping a
Shown
by 1 47 Affidavits
on file in our office, runs from practically
nothing to as high as ten or twelve dollars a month,
but averages less than $2.50 monthly, exclusive of tires.
The average gasoline consumption runs from 16 to 23 miles
per gallon or less than Ji of a cent per mile for each passenger.
These 147 are owners of single cylinder Cadillacs in
almost every state in the Union.
These cars— either touring or runabout — are the greatest
combination of economy and efficiency in the world. They
truly afford ail there is in motoring— except the troubles.
Dealers are always glad to demonstrate. Fully described
and illustrated in Catalogue "MX," mailed on receipt of
-equ.-st.
CADILLAC MOTOR CAR CO., Detroit, Mich.
MODEL K
Mrs. Helen Freese
For many years with the S. & G. Gump Co..
has opened at 947-949 Van Ness avenue, an
establishment which will be known as the
finest Art Galleries in this section. The same
attention given to her patrons and the public
in general in the past will be a feature of the
New Art Establishment, which is now open
for exhibition and public view.
The new firm are direct importers of Original
Oil Paintings, Water Colors, Old Prints, Mar-
ble and Bronze Statuary, Objects of Art, odd,
quaint and beautiful things not to be found in
any other establishment.
A cordial invitation is extended to the public
to call. A feature of this business will be the
taking of import orders for any Works of Art,
Rugs, Furniture, Draperies or appointments.
Resident representatives in New York, London,
Paris, Vienna, Berlin, Florence, Naples, Con-
stantinople.
Our buyer sails for Europe early in July, and
with a spirit of progressiveness which we pro-
pose to establish in this city, any of our clien-
tele who desire us to execute any special com-
missions in the foreign markets, we will give
such orders our prompt and careful atten-
tion for holiday delivery.
Volz ®> F r e e s e
947-949 Van Ness Avenue
READY FOR THE PRESS
CHICAGO GAVE DWELLERS
Not for Preachers
320 Pages, Cloth, C 1.00
POSTPAID VI =
A Story of the Underworld
and the Overworld
By Parker H. Sercombe,
Editor To-Morrow
Magazine \ Chicago.
Only a limited edition of
this remarkable book will be
printed. Each copy will be
signed by Sercombe Him-
self and automatically num-
bered from 1 up. First
orders in will get the low
numbers in rotation except
No. 1, which goes to Mrs.
Sercombe.
Address
TO-MORROW MAGAZINE,
For the Superman and Superwoman and The New Civilization,
2238 Calumet Ave., Chicago, III.
10 CENTS THE COPY. $1 A YEAR. 4
In "Shakespeare, England's Ulysses,"
"The Masque of Love's Labor Won, or
The Enacted Will," Latham Davis has
given the world a wonderful book of the
works of William Shakespeare, Henry
Willobie, Eobert Chester, and Ignoto, all
of these being aliases for the second Earl
of Essex, Robert Devereux. The author
wastes no time in useless argument, but
presents his case by the introduction of a
vast amount of documentary evidence. A
careful reading of the works presented
disturbs all faith Hn the authorship of
the poems and plays by the player, Will
Shakespeare or of any of the other au-
thors advanced by the cryptogramic evi-
dence of Donneley, or of any of those
others who believe that Bacon was the
author of the immortal hard's works.
This book offers more food for thought to
the investigator than any of the many
other volumes published on the "mys-
teries of William Shakespeare," and comes
nearer to convincing the sceptic that, at
last, an author capable of upholding the
dignity of his own reputation has been
found for Shakespeare's plays.
Throughout the book the minor chord,
the clandestine loves of Elizabeth, runs
alluringly, elusively along, and spurs the
reader to a quest after a storv that is lit-
tle more than hinted at by the compiler.
No Shakespearean library is complete
without this remarkable book, and no
student of English literature may count
his education complete without having a
full knowledge of the contents.
G. E. Stechert & Co., N. Y.
* * *
"The Shameless Diary of an Explorer''
is an unusual book, dealing mainly with
an account of the recent ascent of Mount
McKinley, and it may be called a fairly
spirited account and an absolutely frank
record of the happenings of the journey.
Nature books and books of travel are, FS
a rule, written from the vantage ground of
a cozy seat in some comfortable library.
The spirit of the "trail" may be found m
Mr. Robert Dunn's new book. It is pro-
fusely illustrated with splendid photo-
graphs taken by the author. There is a
good map of the Mtount McKinley country
as well as a sketch map showing the route
traveled from the coast.
Outing Publishing Company, N. Y.
* * *
George Alexander Fisher, who is a stu-
dent of the^ question of the eradication of
tuberculosis, lias written a very interest-
ing book on the subject. He has called it
"The Labyrinthine Life." He says truly
that "the white plague, tuberculosis, has
invaded everv family of this country," and
his theme is the exposition of the life
of the camp in the desert. He advocates
a Government camp for the cure of the
dread disease. He says in his preface
that he wants the co-operation of the
newspapers in the work, and adds:
"'Considered solelv from the economic
standpoint, such a project as above out-
lined would pay handsomely. Under
favoring conditions, such as could .e
brought about in a Government camp, a
patient in the earlier stages could be cured
at a cost of, say, $400. If left to himself,
that patient would require at least $300
from some quarter before he died, losing
at least $2 per day because of loss of
work besides. A lar"-e proportion of the
cases are voung men under thirty. Such
a man if restored to health should be able
to make at least $1,000 a year for twenty
years; not a bad return for an investment
of $400. It is safe to say that he would
pay back in taxes far more than this dur-
ir- his subsequent life."
B. W. Dodge & Co., New York.
Paul Elder & Company have just pub-
lished a volume by Stanton Davis Kirk-
ham, author of "Where Dwells the Soul
Serene," and "As Nature Whispers." Mr.
Kirkham is a felicitous writer, and does
his work well as an apostle of optimism.
The author flings defiance to the super-
stitious by dividing the work into thir-
teen chapters. These are devoted to the
subjects of Beauty, Life, Religion, Phil-
osophy, The World-Message, The Heart of
It, The Tendency to Good, Work, Health,
Happiness, The Preacher, The Teacher,
The Poet. '
Mr. Kirkham's is a sweet philosophy,
and will appeal to young people who are
just stepping out into an untried world,
and to the old, who would desire to return
to the illusions of the age of adolescence.
It will come, this book, as a message to
all of the unattainable, the known, but
not the seen, the wished-for but the un-
experienced, and the world will certainly
be better for the uplifting courageous
prose-songs of this master optimist.
Paul Elder & Company, San Francisco
and New York.
Please Mention Overland Monthly In Writing Advertisers.
Etched extremely deep and guaranteed to print
clean We operate the most complete engraving
and printing plant in America twenty four hours a
day every work day in the year. Weare amoney
back proposition if you are not satisfied We can
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tight when hot. Pays for itself first
canning day. Sells at sight. Agents
make $1 .00 an hour. Sample post-
paid 60 cents. Money refunded,
Big Commission. Information and
circulars free.
The Selwell Company,
120 West Jackson Blvd., Chicago, HI.
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and is so harm-
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ton (a patient) :
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•Gouraud's Cream ' as the least harmful of all
the skin preparations."
For sale by all Druggists and Fancy Goods
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Gouraud's Oriental Toilet Powder
An ideal antiseptic toilet powder for infants
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skin irritation, cures sunburn and renders an
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Price, 25 cents per box by mail.
GOURAUD'S POUDRE SUBTILE removes
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Price, Jl.OO per bottle by mail.
FERD T. HOPKINS, Prop'r, 37 Great Jones St.
New York.
Bekins
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968 Broadway, Oakland
Household goods shipped to and
from the East and South at
reduced rates.
SAN FRANCISCO
LOS ANGELES CHICAGO
Continental Building and Loan Association
Subscribed Capital
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of California
ESTABLISHED ; 1 889
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ITS PURPOSE IS
To help its members to build homes, also to make loans on improved property, the members giv-
ing first liens on real estate as security. To help its stockholders to earn from 8 to 12 per cent per
annum on their stock, and to allow them to open deposit accounts bearing interest at the rate of
5 per cent per annum.
Church near Market St. San Francisco.
George Sylvester Viereck, author of
Nineveh and Other Poems,, was born in
Munich, December 31, 1884. His father,
Louis Viereck, for years a prominent
member of the German Keichstag, came
to America about ten years ago as the
New York correspondent of a Berlin
newspaper, and is now the publisher of a
New York German monthly, "Der
Deutsche Vorkampfer." His mother,
Laura Viereck, is a native of California,
and her husband's first cousin.
Coming to America at the age of twelve
A^iereck attended the New York public
schools and graduated in 1906 from the
College of the City of New York. In
July following 'he joined the staff of
"Current Literature," under Edward
Jewitt Wheeler, and is now associate edi-
tor, conducting the dramatic department.
He began to write for newspapers in
German at the age of thirteen, and has
contributed a great deal of prose, verse
and fiction to the New York Staats Zei-
tung," as well as to the Berlin papers. He
continued writing in German until three
years ago, when he definitely adopted the
English language. He collected his
German poems in 1904 and published
them under the title of "Gedichte." The
edition was a very small one, and had
little sale, but it instantly made him cele-
brated. His genius was recognized at
once .throughout Germany, and to a less
extent America, and he became the sub-
ject of many articles in reviews and criti-
cal journals on both sides of the sea. He
began to receive personal letters from men
of celebrity, finding himself within a few
months after the book's publication, in
correspondence with a growing circle of
rare minds.
Wtithin a few months after the book's
publication, the celebrated house of Gotta
at Stuttgart, the publishers of Goethe
and Schiller, expressed an interest in the
young poet, and Ludwig Fulda took the
manuserint to Germanv to show it to
them, the result being their publication
of a larger work, made up of the original
book, with many newer ^oems. This ap-
peared at the end of 1906, under the title
of "Nineveh und Andere Gedichte," Mof-
fat, Yard &• Company, of New York, at
the same time having in preparation the
English edition, with the further addition
of poems written originallv in English for
American magazines. The first American
magazine, by 11 u> way, to publish a poem
by Mr. Viereck was the Century.
In the autumn of 1906, Mr. Viereck
published a small volume of plays entitb;
"A Game at Love," and there will appe,
in the late autumn a psychological rci
mance of a very unusual kind and qu;
ity. All his books will be published sini-
ultaijeouslv in English and German.
Nineveh and Other Poems bears the im-
print of Moffat, Yard & Co., New York.
* * *
One of the most useful of the Govern-
ment books issued this year is the Officis
Congressional Directory. This book cor
tains an infinitely large amount of de
tailed information of value to the general
public. There is no branch of our Gov-
ernment upon which it has no knowledge
to impart. In its pages may be found a
biographical sketch of every Congressman
of the 59th Congress, 2d Session, as well
as a similar list of the Senators. There is
a complete directory of the Federal Judi-
ciary, and a list of every foreign represen-
tative and attache.
* * *
Another very valuable volume has
reached the reviewer's desk in the shape
of the special reports of the Census Bu-
reau, issued by the Department of Com-
merce and Labor. These treat of "Wealth,
Debt and Taxation." It is hereby sug-
gested that no student of sociology and
practical science of politics has his li-
brary complete without a copy of this ex-
haustive statistical treatise on, or com-
pendium of, our laws. This is a large
volume of 1234 pages.
* * *
"Prisoners of the Temple" is a path-
etic story of the children of the unfortun-
ate Louis XVI and Marie' Antoinette of
France. It is to be translated into French
by the student in that tongue, and notes
and a vocabulary are given to facilitate
such translating work. It will be an ex-
ceedingly interesting effort to the pupil,
and valuable.
Arranged by H. A. Guerber, Boston;
Published by D. C. Heath & Co.
DIVIDEND NOTICE.
The Cor.tinental Building and Loan Association.
The Continental Building and Loan Association,
Market and Church streets, San Francisco, Cal.,
has declared for the six months ending June 30,
1907, a dividend of four per cent per annum on or-
dinary deposits and six per cent on term deposits.
Interest on deposits payable on and after July 1st.
Interest on ordinar> deposits not called for will be
Hdded to the principal and thereafter bear interest
at the same rate.
WASHINGTON DODGE, President.
WILLIAM CORBIN, Secretary.
Please Mention Overland Monthly In Writing Advertisers.
xvii
Alaska— San Francisco Route
TO
NOME AND ST. MICHAEL
DIRECT
S. S. INDIANA
3335 Tons - - Graham, Master
FIRST SAILING FROM SAN FRANCISCO, MAY 28, 1907
ing four round trips direct during the
season
For further information apply to
BARNESON & HIBBERD GO.
172 East St. San Francisco
Telephone Temporary 2970
Ask your drngpist for
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The Garden Book of California is one
of those indispensable books to the dweller
in the country or the city who is a lover
of the beautiful, of flowers, and, in fact,
of nature in any guise. Belle Sumner
Angler tells us many things that we know
already, but she puts them in such a for;-i
as to make them attractive to the most
calloused individual. The illustrations of
this book are well selected to fit the text,
and are most exquisitely printed on li^lit
buff paper. The text is clear and large,
and the language is simple and to the
point. This book is an ornament to any
librarv. and a most useful household ne-
cessity.
Faul Elder & Company, San Francisco
and New York.
* * *
Robert Luce's "Writing for the Press,'"'
the eleventh thousandth of the fifth edi-
tion, is a handy book for the beginner or
for the writer who has not gained his
knowledge through the hard experience >f
actual work. It is just what its name
implies, and is an invaluable aid to the
newspaper man, the would-be author or
the advertiser. It was originally written
many years ago when Robert Luce was
on the editorial staff of the Boston Globe.
It was meant to get better work from re-
porters or correspondents, and to save
time all along the line. The book has
grown with the varied experiences of the
author as newspaperman, editor, pub-
lisher, business man and legislator. It
is now seven times as large as at the
start.
Clipping Bureau Press, Boston, 1907.
* * *
Tho=e that love the great outdoors, with
a healthy, every-day practical love, cann -t
help but appreciate the book that Ernest
McGaffey has just given to the reading
world. It is appropriatelv called "Out-
doors," with a sub-title of "A Book of the
Woods, Fields and Marshlands." There
are several chapters on fishing, and some
few on hunting, one or two of simple de-
scription, and all of them redolent .>r
woods, marshland, fields and lakes. Mr.
McGKffey is unusually happy in his
phraseology, sometimes reminding one »f
Thoreau. No follower of Isaak Waltoi
no disciple of Nimrod, can afford to pas
by this book of real experiences without
stopping to investigate its fine claim
recognition as an authority.
Charles Scribner's Sons. New York.
* * *
"The Wonders of the Colorado Desert,"'
by George Wharton James, easily over-
shadows all other volumes published on
this entrancing subject in point of va.-t
research and as regards illustrations and
text. Mr. James has given us a text book
on the great American desert that is *
interesting as a great story, an epic de-
scription of an extraordinary age or as of
some poem of the sagas of the Northland.
He takes you along step by step, and be-
fore you have gone far, you, too, are
chasing the mirage of the Southwest, or
studying at close hand the sensations and
emotions of the desert chuckawalla. M,*.
James, in these two volumes, has not only
given us a truthful description of the
desert and its people, but has told of all
the natural phenomena, its flowers, its
cactus growths and the story of every lit-
tle living thing that grows or crawls in
the arid immensities of God's forgotten
land. Fakers like Lummis will strive to
tell you of the desert, but these men are
not students. James towers head and
shoulders above the crowd of the dilet-
tanti that have attempted to paint the
glorious colors of the Colorado, or the
grandeurs of the Grand Canyon. Mon-
sen knows the desert, but he is no such
historian as George Wharton James.
There is a woman prose-poet in Los An-
gele-5, named Strobridge, who knows the
unfathomable mysteries of the land of al-
kali stretches, but she, too, is no student.
She is a mere writer, recording in fitting-
ly weird language the sensations she and
others have felt, when confronted by the
"I forbid" of Death Valley. George
Wharton James has stopped at no such
denial, and his knowledge of the de.id
land where so much there is that lives is
as sentient as life itself. He ha i fathomed
the unknowable of the illimitable hori-
zons of sand and sage brush.
Little, Brown & Co., Boston.
Please Mention Overland Monthly In Writing Advertisers.
xlx
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We can sell our high-grade pianos at
prices lower than others because we have
the finest equipped piano factory in the
world, the most expert workmen and a com-
pany made up of the largest retail music
dealers in the United States. Their special
piano knowledge and experience plus ours
make it possible to cut down our manufac-
turing and selling expenses way below any
piano house. The saving goes to you.
Write today for our Latest Introductory Offer and large illustrated
catalog. It will pay you. Send now while it's on your mind. Yes, a
postal will do.
SPECIAL OFFER- We will mail you FREE a set of three
souvenir postal cards, free from advertising, for a two-cent stamp. Don't
miss this offer.
THE LAGONDA PIANO CO.
22nd Street and J Avenue, New Castle, Ind.
B
B
B
c/4mong the foremost manufac-
turers to welcome the pure food
law is Allen's B. B. B. Flour Co.,
manufacturers of self-rising Boston
Brown Bread Flour and self-rising
pancake flour; combinations of the
most nutritious cereals and pure
leavenings and prepared especially
to meet the demand for pure, clean
food.
FLOUR.
All Grocers
Allen's B. B. B. Flour Go.
Pacific Coast, Factory, San Jose, Col.
—Eastern Factory —
Little Wolf Mills, Manawa, Wis.
NUTS WITH KERNELS.
WARWICK JAMES PRICE.
A bargain is often the euphemistic
spelling adopted by a careless spender to
name a silly purchase.
It would be a witty world if every one
could sav at the right moment the smart
things he thinks of later.
You don't mind the barking of your
neighbor's dog so much when you have a
well -loved puppy of your own.
A guest may carry away an umbrella
from your hall, not because he is a thief,
but because he recognizes it.
It is graceful, even chivalrous, to kiss
a lady's hand, but may not. such a kiss
properly be snoken of as out of place?
Many a will contest ends in the success-
ful litigant building a cottage — while his
lawver builds a marble villa.
True consideration is that self-restraint
which enables a man to ignore the presence
of a pretty bride and her bridegroom.
If it be true that the average of honesty
among fat men is higher than among lean,
may it not be because the stout fellows
find it harder to stoop to low things?
Few men can be cheered from depres-
sion by a new tie or waistcoat, but there is
seldom a time when a woman cannot be
distinctly revived by some new and pretty
thing.
Words are misleading. An autoist may
be arrested for scorching, and yet be far
from warm, while it is no proof that a fel-
low is a business man merely because he
happens to be in business.
* * *
Matter of Funds.
Salesman — Let me sell you this coat,
sir. Yery becoming to one of your figure,
I assure you. Just sold one like it to a
short man. Only fifteen dollars!
Fuinches — Well, it's evident that he
wasn't as short as I am. Show me a
cheaper one.
Overlooked the Greater Criminal.
D. w. F.
"I see that thev sentenced the fellow
who robbed the guests at that summer
hotel to five years in the pen."
"Yes — and let the proprietor go Scott
free !"
* * *
What Pleased Her Best.
Fair Parishioner — That was a lovely
sermon you gave us this morning, Mr.
Lengthly. The Kev. Lengthly (flattered)
— Ah, I am glad to hear it, Mrs. C. And
what part of my discourse did you par-
ticularly enjoy?
Fair Parishioner — Oh, the closing sen-
tence. I never was so glad to hear any-
thing in my life.
The Reason.
"So," growled the newly-married man,
"You call this angel-food;
I s'nose because who eats of it
Is changed to one for good !"
* * ..
Going Carnegie One Better.
Why give such credit to a man
Because he should elect to
Express a wish that he die poor ?
The rest of us expect to !
* * *
Natural Result.
""When I described the case to him, and
asked him for ten dollars for the suffering
poor, he gave it to me, and showed great
feeling."
"No wonder; most any man would show
feeling when touched for that amount!"
* * *
The Meanest Man.
"They tell me he 'has buried five wives,
and hasn't mit up a single tombstone yet."
"I hear that he's waiting for the present
incumbent to die, because he can get
monuments cheaper in lots of six!"
Please Mention Overland Monthly In Writing Advertisers.
xxi
Four Lots in
CAMP MEEKER
Picturesque Surroundings
For Sale at> a Sacrifice
$150.OO for t,he Four
Address D. P. Box 39, Over-
land Monthly Office
HALL'S
VEGETABLE
HAI R
RENEWER
"THE NEW KIND"
It is now positively known that falling hair is caused
ty a germ, hence is a regular germ disease. Hall's Hair
Renewer, as now made from the "revised formula,"
promptly stops falling hair because it destroys the
germs which produce this trouble. It also destroys
the dandruff germs, and restores the scalp to a healthy
condition.
Formula: Glycerin, Capsicum, Bay Rum, Sulphur, Tea,
Rosemary Leaves, Boroglycerin, Alcohol, Perfume.
Ask your druggist for " the new kind." The kind that does
not change the color of the hair.
B. P. HALL & CO., Nashua, N. H.
The Overland Monti
Ws Bi,
iFour
SUl
4
ASCRIPTION OFFER (See Page xxvi.}
Overland Monthly
San Francisco News Letter, weekly,
Any two magazines In Class A.
THE
4
FOR
$4.95
Special
Overland Monthly
San Francisco News Letter
Any magazine in Class A
in Class B.
, weekly,
and any magazine
THE
4
FOR
$5.45
Sub'n
Offers
THE OVERLA
Overland Monthly
San Francisco News Letter
Any magazine in Class A
in Class C.
Overland Monthly
San Francisco News Letter
Any magazine in Class B
in Class C.
, weekly,
and any magazine
, weekly,
and any magazine
COMPANY,
THE
4
FOR
$5.95
THE
4
FOR
$6.45
Publishers
ND MONTHLY
Offices — 775 Market St., San Francisco.
xxli Please Mention Overland Monthly In Writing Advertisers.
Th
The ideal
instrument
for the home
The Autopiano
Is the ideal instrument for the home where all the
members do not play for themselves. It can be played
by anyone, with the aid of music rolls and, best of all,
it can be played with feeling and with the most accur-
ate expression. People of the finest musical tastes
are realizing the boon that the Autopiano is in the
home or in the club.
The Autopiano
has been the means of stimulating a liking for the bet-
ter classes of music. It has appealed to grown people
who never expected to be able to play for themselves
just as it has been warmly accepted by young people
because it has been the means of producing every
class of composition without the labor of constant
study and practice.
The Autopiano
is not a combination of a piano and a player mechan-
ism. It is a single instrument built in one factory of
the finest materials and by the most expert workman-
ship. There is bat one genuine Autopiano.
A postal addressed to "Advertising Department" secures a beautiful Art Catalogue
EILERS MUSIC COMPANY
1130 Van Ness Ave. SAN FRANCISCO 1220 Fillmore St.
i Other' Stores: OAKLAND - - - STOCKTON - - - SAN JOSE - - - RENO, NEVADA
Please Mention Overland Monthly in Writing Advertisers.
N
I
Why and Because
There is only one player piano in
the country to buy and that is the
Melville Clark Apollo Player Piano
Why? You Will Ask
There are several unanswerable reasons why, if you intend to have a player piano
in your home, you should have the MELVILLE CLARK APOLLO and no other.
Here are the Becauses
1. Because the Apollo has an 88-note range,which includes every key on the piano
key board. No other player piano in the world has more than 65-notes or 5 octaves.
2. Because it has the effective transposing mouthpiece, which prevents the
annoyance caused by the shrinking and swelling of the music rolls due to climatic
alterations, and that changes the key of any music to suit the voice or accompanying
instrument. No other player piano in the world possesses this feature, which repre-
sents fully 95 per cent, of player piano value.
3. Because it is operated by either air or spring motor, and is extremely sensitive
in its action. No other player equals it in this respect. The Apollo spring motor is
so strongly constructed that atmospheric conditions, no matter how severe, cannot
affect it in the slightest degree. This motor also obtains a perfectly even
distribution of force, which enables the performer to achieve the most artistic
effects. No other player piano in the world has a spring motor.
4. Because every one of the 88 pneumatic fingers of the Apollo player
piano strikes a key on the piano. No couplers are used. The orchestral tone
thus attained permits the performer to interpret, in an impressive manner,
the larger musical compositions, and to gain a mass of sensuous tone color
that adds greatly to their beauty.
5. Because the Apollo player piano with its remarkable range of 88 notes plays
the greatest musical compositions exactly as they were originally written, interpreting
them in their full beauty, and as they are played by the greatest pianists. These
noble masterpieces of musical art are rearranged or transposed for every other player
piano on the market, and the pristine beauty of the work is marred.
6. Because the Apollo player piano is practically five instruments in one. There
Is a scale with a range of 58 notes, one of 65 notes, one of 70 notes, one of 82 notes and
one of 88 notes. The music rolls cut for these different scales can all be played on
the Apollo. These six superior features give the APOLLO PLAYER PIANO a
commanding place in public esteem and make it by far the most desirable instrument
on the market for the musical home.
OP ^^^ ^ou cer^ain'y would not buy a five-octave or 65-note piano. You
"*• UU • will want an instrument with the full range of 88 notes. Then
would you buy a 65-note player when you can GETQONE WITH 88 NOTES?
There is rto doubt that you will have none other than an Apollo player piano
when you fully understand its great superiority over all other players.
ITS TONE IS BEALTIFUt. and it is one of the handsomest and most durable player pianos
made in the United States.
Send for illustrated catalogue to the manufacturers
Melville Clark Piano Co.
xxiv Please Mention Overland Monthly in Writing Advertisers.
For
Summer Reading
What could be better than a 3-months' trial sub-
scription to
The Living Age?
One dollar will bring you this magazine every week
for three months: containing
THE BEST FICTION
THE BEST ESSAYS
THE BEST LITERARY CRITICISM
THE BEST TRAVEL ARTICLES
THE ABLEST DISCUSSIONS OF PUBLIC AFFAIRS
With the whole range of contemporary English periodicals from the
quarterlies to Punch, to select from, the Living Age is able to give
its readers every week a larger variety of material written by the
most brilliant writers than any other single magazine.
The LIVING AGE has been published every Saturday without
missing an issue for more than 63 years and was never more indis-
pensable than now to intelligent readers.
Terms: Six Dollars a Year:
3 Months' Trial Subscription, &1.00
The Living Age Company
6 BEACON STREET, BOSTON
Please Mention Overland Monthly in Writing Advertisers
Hartshorn Shade Rollers
Wood Rollers
Bear the script name of Stewart
Hartshorn on label.
Get "Improved," no tackg. required.
Tin Rollers
Interior Decoration
IS AN ILLUSTRATED MONTHLY
MAGAZINE FULL OF IDEAS
Decorating and Furnishing the
Home correctly and tastefully is as
necessary as dressing fashionably
and becomingly
1 0 cents, postpaid $ 1 .00 a year
Catalog of Books on Decoration Free
Clifford & Lawton, 19 Union Sq., New York
. Y FLOUR COMPANY
SAMf RANCISCQ OFFICE !34 CALIFORNIA SI.
133 Spear Street, San Francisco.
Are you going to St. Louis
The HOTEL HAMILTON is a delightful place in the Best Resi-
dent Section and away from the noise and smoke; yet within easy
access. Transient Rate: $1 to $3 per day. European Plan. Specie
Rates by the week. Write for Booklet. Address: W. F. WILLIAM-
SON, Manager:
DO YOU WANT
INFORMATION regarding Nevada mines, mining stocks or mining
companies? WRITE US—information cheerfully furnished. Also send
for Todd's Chronicle, an illustrated pamphlet giving the latest and most
interesting news from the mining camps in the State, especially Goldfield.
Free maps of Goldfield and Nevada sent upon request.
ROBT. B. TODD, Mines and Mining and Financial Agent, Box 227,
Goldfield, Nevada.
For Sale, 7000 acre ranch in Idaho. Box 1 6, Somerville, Mass.
TURCR3
of HVTO1/ID
Railing Chairs
- fW ACL PURPOSES
WhofesalecVRetail ar\d For Rgf
Illustrated catalogue on application. Office and Factory 1808
Market St., San Francisco. Branch, 837 S Spring St., Los Angeles
For Breakfast
The Pacific Coast Cereal
THE JOHNSON-LOCKE MERCANTILE CO., Agents
SAN FRANCISCO
xxvi
Please Mention Overland Monthly In Writing Advertisers.
The Overland Monthly
SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.
An Illustrated Magazine of the West
Magazine Offers for 1907:
The prices are for a year's subscription. The prices cover postage anywhere in United
States or American possessions, and in Canada, Mexico and Cuba. The magazines in com-
binations may be for one or more persons. Be careful to give names and addresses clearly
a nd fully.
OUR MAGAZINE LIST
THE OVERLAND MONTHLY, Regular Price $1.5O
Regular Price. CLASS C
CLASS A
American Boy $1.00
Automobile Magazine 2.00
Bohemian 1.00
Cosmopolitan 1.00
Four Track News 1.00
Harpers' Bazar 1.00
Madame 1.00
National 1.00
Pearson's 1.00
Pictorial Review 1.00
Suburban Life 1,.00
Success 1.00
Sunset 1.60
Woman's Home Companion 1.00
World To-Day 1.00
CLASS B Regular Price.
American Magazine with Suburban Life.. $2.00
Country Gentleman 1.60
Etude 1.50
Musician 1.60
Review of Reviews 3.00
Searchlight 2.00
Regular Price
Ainslie's $1.80
Appleton's Booklovers' 3.00
Automobile (weekly) 2.00
Burr Mclntosh 3.00
Current Literature 3.00
Forum 2.00
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Lippincott's 2.50
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CLASS D.
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San Francisco News Letter $4.00
Argonaut 4.00
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TheOVERLAND MONTHLY CO., Publishers
Offices — 773 Market St., San Francisco.
Please Mention Overland Monthly in Writing Advertisers.
xxv 1 1
La Pintoresca
The most comfortable and homelike hotel in Pasadena, California. »
Situated on elevated ground in a grove of oranges and palms, surrounded by the Sierra
Madre mountains. Elegant, rooms; table unsurpassed; pure water; perfect, appointments; ten-
nis, billiards. No winter, no pneumonia, no tropical malaria.
» Write for booklet, to M. D. PA1 NTER, Proprietor, Pasadena, Cal.
The Cleverest Weekly
on the Pacific Coast
.
Published for the people who think. An up- to-date lively journal.
Send for sample copy.
S. F. News Letter,
773 Market Street, San Francisco, Cal.
xxviii Please Mention Overland Monthly In Writing Advertisers.
making nf Una Angela
Photographs of the Rise and Growth of California's Southern City
Oil?? 5fcadjeraf plgrtmage
The story of the convention of the
National Educational Association
to be held in Los Angeles during July
nf
cTVlanufactories along the Bay Shore
Recent discoveries of Footprints in
the Carson, Nevada, Stone Quarries
SEND SUNSET TO YOUR EASTERN FRIENDS AND
KEEP THEM POSTED ON SAN FRANCISCO'S
WONDERFUL PROGRESS IN
RECONSTRUCTION
©n
Please Mention Overland Monthly in Writing Advertisers.
HOME TELEPHONE ATTORNEY GIVES ITS INSIDE HISTORY
Lighting Plant Burns; Loss $2,500,000; City Dark
THE LOSS WttiB£GEORGE F- HATTON TELLS GRAND
JURY WHY HE WAS EMPLOYED
~Z=-=.ji~ IMPORTANT TESTIMONY
GIVEN TO GRAND JURY
Please Mention Overland Monthly in Writing Advertisers.
Freight prepaid to San Francisco or
Los Angeles buys this massive Napo
eon bed No. 03165 (worth $55.) Made
in beautifully figured Mahogany in
Quartered Oak, Piano Polish or Dull
finish Dresser and commode to
match and 28 other desirable Suites
in our FREE catalogue.
&9.90
04081
Freight prepaid to Sa
cisco or Los Angeles b
artistic Iron Bed No
(worth $15.) Finished a
enamel desired. Vernis Martin
$2.00 extra. 46 other styles of
Iron and Brass Beds from $2 40
to $66.00 in our FREE Catalogue
Bishop Furniture Go.
Grand Rapids, Mich
Ship anywhere "on approval," allowing furniture in your
home five days to be returned at our expense and money re-
funded if not perfectly satisfactory and all you expected.
WE SHIP to San Francisco and Los Angeles in Car Load
lots and reship frem there to other western towns, thus se-
curing lowest carload rates for our customers. Write for owr
FREE catalogue, state articles wanted and we will quote pre-
paid prices
&24.50
Freight prepaid to San Fran-
cisco or Los Angeles. Buys
this large, luxurica- Colonial
Rocker. No. 04762 (worth $40) Freight prepaid to San Fran
covered with best genuine cisco or Los Angeles buys thi«
leather. Has Quartered Oak or handsome Buffet No. 0500
Mahogany finish rockers, full (worth $55.00). Made of Select
Turkish spring seat and hack. Quartered Oak, piano polish or
An ornament and Gem of lux- dull finish. Length 46 in.,
ury and comfort in any home. French bevel mirror 40x14 in.
93 other styles of rockers 50 other styles of Buffets and
from $2.75 to $70 in our FREE Side Boards from $10.65 to $150
catalog. in our FREE catalogue'
Our FRKE i
good to the
»talog
best n
e sho
if over 1000 pieces of fashionable
It posts you on styles and pric
ure fr
•ite foi
>m the cheapest that
it today.
Bishop Furniture Go. 78-90 lorta St., Grand Rapids, Mich.
We furnish homes, hotels,
hospitals, clubs and public
buildings complete.
&28.50
Freight prepaid to
Angeles buys this
Pedestal Dining Exte
(worth $42.00.) Mad
Oak, piano polish
San Francisco or Los
eautiful High grade
tion Table No. OS14
of select Quartered
dull finish. Top 48
diameter, has perfect locking de-
vice. Seats 10 when extended, 4 when
closed, 37 other styles of Dining Tables
from $7.75 to $103.00 in our FREE cata-
logue.
Freight prepaid to San Francisco or Los
Angeles buys this large high-grade Lib-
rary Table No. 04314 [worth $15.00], Made
of select figured Quartered Oak w h piano
polish. Length 42 inches: width 27 inches.
Has large drawer. For Mahogany add $2 25.
39 other styles of Library and Parlor tables
from $2.40 to $65 in our FREE catalogue.
Goodyear's
"Gold Seal" Rubber Good
Belting, Packing and Hose. Clothing, Boots and
Shoes. Druggists' Rubber Sundries. Tennis and
Yachting Shoes, Fishing and Hunting Rubber
Boots, Water Bottles, Rubber Gloves, etc.
Headquarters for Everything Made of Rubber.
Goodyear Rubber Co.
San Francisco
Portland, Ore.
R. H. PEASE J. A. SHEPARD F. M. SHEPARD, Jr. C. F. RUNYAN
President Vice President Treasurer Secretary
HOTEL CUMBERLAND, NEW YORK
S. W. Cor. Broadway at. 54th Street,
Ideal Location. Near Theatres, Shops, and Central Park
Fine Cuisine. Excellent Food and reasonable Prices.
New, Modern and Absolutely Fireproof
Within one minute's walk of 6th Ave. °'L" and Subway and
accessible to all surface car lines Transient rates $2,50 with
bath and up, Send for Booklet.
HARRY P. ST1MSON GEO. L. SANBORN
THE GERMAN SAVINGS
AND LOAN SOCIETY
526 CALIFORNIA STREET.
San Francisco
Guaranteed capital and surplus. .$2,578,695.41
Capital actually paid-up in cash 1,000,000.00
Deposits, Dec. 31, 1906 38,531,917.28
P. Tillmann, Jr., President; Daniel Meyer,
First Vice- President; Emil Rohte, Second
Vice- President; A. H. R. Schmidt, Cashier;
Wm. Herrmann, Asst Cashier; George
Tourny, Secretary; A. H. Muller, Asst. Sec-
retary; Goodfellow & Eells, General Attor-
neys.
DIRECTORS— F. Tillmann, Jr., Daniel
Meyer, Emil Rohte, Ign. Steinhart, I. N.
Walter, N. Ohlandt, J. W. Van Bergen, E.
T. Kruse, W. S. Goodfellow.
iiiiiiiiiiuniiiiii iniiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiii!iiimiiiiiiiiiiiii!ii!iimiiiiiimii|i||!
Pabst Extract
V •fefrtf' T&nio •£
For
Dyspepsia
Loss of appetite is nature's first
warning of indigestion, the forerunner
of dyspepsia. This disease, like ner-
vousness, is often due to irregular liv-
ing, improper food and inattention to
diet. The digestiveorgans are inert, the
weakened membranes of the overtaxed
stomach are unable to perform their func-
tions, and the food you force yourself to eat
distresses instead of nourishes. Nothing
will do more to stimulate the appetite and
aid digestion than
pabst Extract
1fifJ)esTTonlc
Combining the rich food elements of pure
barley malt with the tonic properties of
choicest hops, the nourishment offered in
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the blood and its food for the nerves and
muscles is quickly absorbed by thetissues.
At the same time, the digestion of other
foods is aided by promoting the flow of di-
gestive juices, while the tonic properties
of the hops create an appetite and tone up
the system, thus assuring a speedy return
of health.
creates an appetite, aids in the digestion of
other foods, builds up the nerves and mus-
cles of the weakened stomach and con-
quers dyspepsia. It brings strength to the
weak and overworked, induces refreshing
sleep and revives the tired brain.
For Sale at a11 Leading Druggists
Insist ufaon the Original
Guaranteed under the National Pure Food Law
U. S. Serial No. 1921
Free Picture and Book
Send us your name on a postal for our interesting booklet
and "Baby' 6 First Adventure" a beautiful picture of baby
life. Both FREE. Address
Pabst Extract Dept. 36 Milwaukee, Wis
3 COLD MEDALS
LEWIS 8 CLARK
EXPOSITION.
_
"A Pure Cocoa of Undoubted
Quality and Excellence of
Manufacture"
Walter Baker's
A distinguished London physician, in giving
some hints concerning the proper
preparation of cocoa, says:
"Sturt with a pure cocoa of un-
doulitcd quality and excellence
of manufacture, and which hears
the name of a respectable firm.
This point is important, for
there are many cocoas on the
market which have been doc-
tored by the addition of alkali,
starch, malt, kola, hops, etc."
HIGHEST AWARDS In
Europe and America
WALTER BAKER & CO. Ltd.
DORCHESTER, MASS.
Established 1780
MENNEN5
BORATED TALCUM
TOILET POWDER
"YOU'RE SAFE"
in the hands of the little
captain at the helm,— the
"complexion specialist,"
whose results are certain,
whose fees are small.
MENNEN'S
Borated Talcum
TOILET POWDER
protects and soothes, a sure
relief from Sunburn,
Prickly Heat, Chitting,
etc. Put up in non-refill-
able boxes — the " box
that lox"— for your protec-
tion. If Mennen's face is on
the cover it's genuine and
a guarantee of purity.
Delightful after shaving.
Guaranteed under Food <K Druga
Act, June 30, 1900. Sen al No. 1542.
Bold everywhere, or by mail, 25c.
SAMPLE FREE
G. Mennen Co., Newark, N.J.
Try Mennen'H
Violet Iterated
Tnlouml'owdor
It bat toe scent of
fresh cut Parma
Violet*.
GENTLEMEN
WHO DRESS FOR STYLE
NEATNESS, AND COMFORT
WEAR THE IMPROVED
BOSTON
GARTER
THE RECOGNIZED STANDARD
The Name is
stamped on every
loop —
The _ _ _
CUSHION
BUTTON
CLASP
LIES FLAT TO THE LEG— NEVER
SLIPS, TEARS NOR UNFASTENS
Sample pair, Silk 50c., Cotton 25c.
Mailed on receipt of price.
6EO. FROST CO., Makers
Boston, Miss., U.S.A.
ALWAYS EASY
vose
PIANOS
have been established over 55 years. By our ayste
of payments every family of moderate circun
stances can own a VOSE Piano. We take old li
struments In exchange and deliver the new piar
in your home free of expense. Write for Catalog
D and explanation.
Please Mention Overland Monthly In Writing Advertisers.
ROYALDRCESTEB
CORSETS
4M.OO to $3.5O
AND
BON TON
CORSETS
C5.OO to£7.5O
Combine features of Style
and Fit which rnakeihem the
choice ot Modistes wherever
fine dressmaking is done.^-o
SOLD BY AIL LEADING DEALERS ON THE PACIFIC COAST
' '
A FAIR OFFER.!
to convince
DYSPEPTICS
and those suffering from
Stomach Troubles
of the efficiency of
flycozone
I will send a
$1.00 BOTTLE FREE
Only one to a family
to any one NAMING THIS MAGAZINE, and
enclosing 25c. to pay forwarding charges. This
offer is made t,o demonstrate t>he efficiency
of tAis remedy.
Glycozone is absolutely harmless.
It cleanses the lining membrane of the stom-
ach and thus subdues inflammation, thus helping
nature to accomplish a cure.
GLYCOZONE cannot fail to help you, and
will not harm you in the least.
Indorsed and successfully used by leading
physicians for over 15 years.
Sold by leading druggists. None genuine
without my signature.
Chemirt and Graduate of the "Ecole Centrale des Arts et Manu-
facture! de Paris," (France).
57 Prince Street, New York City,
FREEl-Valuable booklet on how to treat diseases.
Iv Please Mention Overland Monthly In Writing Advertisers.
a NEXT OVERLAND
SEPTEMBER NUMBER
The September issue of the OVERLAND MONTHLY will
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Overland Monthly
No. 2
AUGUST, 1907
Vol. L.
CONFESSIONS OF A STENOGRAPHER
BEIXG AX ANALYSIS OF THE GRAFT IN SAX
FRAXCISCO AXD THE UXDEKLYIXG
CAUSES THAT LED TO IT
PHOTOGRAPHS BY GEORGE HALEY OF THE SAN FRANCISCO "CALL."
DURING the days when Abe Ruef and Mayor Schmitz were carrying out their
systematic plan of extortion and bribe-taking, there was one man in San
Francisco who was intimately associated with the leading figures in the graft
scandal. This former confidante of Abe Ruef was able to perceive from the in-
side the real motives which actuated the Curly Boss and the Mayor as he climbed
to fame and opulence. The following story is the story of that man, told from a
close personal knowledge of the inner workings of the graft, and it is published
here because it best analyzes the downfall of once-respected American citizens,
and treats of their ruin from its most vital standpoint — that of intense, absorbing
human interest. — EDITOR.
THE story of the graft scandal in San
Francisco, so far as I have observed
it from the inside and intend to re-
late here, is different from that of
similar tales of graft in other cities of
the United States. The graft was not
the result of an organization which has
existed for practically no other purpose
for years, as is the case of Tammany Hall
in New York. It has not come from the
preponderance of one party in power for
many terms of office; nor even from the
indifference of the people to the dishonesty
of their rulers, as in Philadelphia.
The men who, representing the city ad-
ministration, are under indictment for
Langdon
Cobb
Ileney
Oliver
THE PROSECUTION.
grafting in San Francisco, did not intend
to be dishonest when they assumed office,
and — strange as it may seem from first to
last — 'from their advent to power to their
ruin, the results have been just the oppo-
site of what might be expected from the
underlying causes which produced and de-
termined them.
Before the first election of Schmitz, the
city had been, as is usual with municipali-
ties, under the control of the politicians,
the citizens taking but little interest in
politics — which is also unfortunately
usual — and the choice of Mayor had been
much a matter of which party proved the
more energetic and adroit at the polls in
its manipulation of the voters. Phelan
had been several times Mayor, and at one
time had been extremely popular, but
during his last administration a strike of
teamsters had broken out, and in the
handling of the difficulty, he had managed
to displease both sides, the Labor Union-
ists by protecting the "scab" drivers with
policemen, and the business men by not
suppressing the trouble with more force
and energy. As his administration drew
to an end, and the nominations for his
successor were in order, the Democrats
felt that there was no use in making a
fight, so they hunted up a young man,
who was willing to contribute handsome-
ly to the campaign funds for the honor of
the nomination, and allowed the Bepubli-
cans to name a man who not only had no
personal popularity, but who it was gener-
ally believed would be a pliant tool in the
hands of those who controlled his nomina-
tion. Dissatisfaction was general and
widespread, and several of the Kepubli-
can papers openly supported the Demo-
cratic candidate.
The Labor Union, party had been or-
ganized as a result of the teamsters' strike,
but it was without leaders or influence or
political sagacity, and it may be added
that from the ranks of labor unionism
has never yet been evolved a leader. The
party was looking for a candidate for
Mayor, and had discussed a number of
possibilities, many of most radical char-
acter, including one Casey, who was the
CONFESSIONS OF A STENOGEAPHEE.
103
.-MI lor of the Teamsters' Union. At this
bsychological moment, Abraham Euef
Appeared upon the scene.
1 Abraham, or, as he is better known,
j'Abe" Euef, is a native Californian, who
IIM d(3 one of the best, if not the best, rec-
• nls of any graduate of the State Univer-
sity. He speaks fluently seven languages,
Is well read, does not smoke, never drinks
to excess, and if he has had any scandals
with the other sex, they have never at-
tracted public attention. Pleasant of ad-
oresSj kind and courteous in his manner,
he was popular even among those who
might have had any race prejudice
against him, though politically he was
looked upon solely as an astute district
leader, and was not classed with the inner
political circle which lunched at the Pal-
ace Hotel, and which pretended — and to
a very large extent did — to regulate San
Francisco politics. Euef saw that there
was a chance for success politically in the
conditions which prevailed in his native
city. If he could find a candidate who
would at once appeal to the labor union
enthusiasts and the disgruntled voters in
the community of the Democratic and Ee-
publican party, he might win the election
and control the politics of the city. Casey,
of course, was not such a candidate; he
was too radical, too coarse, the business
element would not vote for him; but there
was a well appearing musician at one of
the local theatres, a man who could make
a fair speech, who knew how to eat with
his fork, who had some idea of how to
dress, from having seen good dressers at
the theatre, who, with a little experience,
could be made to present a very decent de-
portment when called upon on public occa-
sions, and who was, with all that, per-
fectly willing to "take orders" and be-
longed to the Musicians' Union. It must
not be supposed that Euef thought of
Schmitz when he first began to look for
a candidate for Mayor. His attention was
accidentally attracted to the availability
of the Mayor for the place he has since
filled while watching Schmitz at his fiddle
during an entreact. Euef thought the
matter over, talked it over with others,
and finally suggested it to Schmitz. No
man was more surprised than the prospec-
tive candidate himself when the proposal
was first made to him, but Schmitz has
Fairall
Schmitz
Barrett
Drew Campbell
SCHMITZ SURROUNDED BY HIS ATTORNEYS DURING HIS TRIAL.
104
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
never lacked self-confidence, and he read-
ily accepted the honor, was nominated by
Ruef and the campaign began.
The Labor Unionists were asked to sup-
port him, because he was a labor unionist,
and with all the enthusiasm of novices,
they not only pledged themselves to vote
for the ticket, but they turned in to elect
it to a man. Meantime, Schmitz went
about making speeches. They were all
revised for him by Ruef, and were intend-
ed to accomplish exactly what they suc-
ceeded in doing — pleasing both sides. The
business men were told that Schmitz was
ronservaiivr. and that if there appeared
shrewdness by taking hold of the cam-
paign at exactly the right moment, and
had secured the support of the thousands
of voters who desired to down the bosses
and to give the city an administration free
from bossism and ring rule.
In view of what subsequently has hap-
pened, that, of course, may seem very re-
markable, but its peculiarity does not alter
the fact. Mayor Schmitz, recognizing
that to Ruef he owed his sudden promi-
nence, wrote him a letter which, if poor
politics, yet showed that he was able tr
appreciate the help Ruef had" given him.
and was grateful enough to publicly n<--
AWAITING THE VERDICT.
to be anything radical in what he said, it
was simply intended to catch votes, and
meant nothing. If the unionists objected
that the pledges were not radical enough,
they were told that they had purposely
been made mild, so as not to alarm the
business men, who were willing to support
the ticket. Thus Schmitz was chosen
Mayor the first time as a protest on the
part of many of his supporters against
bossism in their own parties, and as an
exponent of the new element in politics —
Labor Unionism. Ruef had shown his
knowledge his obligation, a virtue which
it is doubtful if all his critics possess.
When Eugene Schmitz first took office
as Mayor of San Francisco, he had not the
slightest intention of doing anything dis-
honest, and it was his earnest desire to
give his native city the best administration
it had ever had. As for Ruef, he had been
actuated only by ambition, the ambition
his race has ever shown, to rule when
possible, and it was love of power and not
of dollars which actuated him in" his coup.
He had not rime to fullv decide upon hi?
ABE RUEF,. "THE NAPOLEON OF CRIMK
106
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
future during the progress of the cam-
paign, and his mind was entirely centered
on an effort to win. When the victory
was won, however, he. found himself at
once a very important character. His of-
fice was thronged at all hours by the most
polyglot aggregation of place hunters that
ever assembled in a politician's anti-room.
He was flattered, praised, and pointed out
as the great man of the town. While he
absolutely controlled the labor union
party, he was too shrewd to resign from
his position as a member of the Republi-
can Central Committee, realizing that the
Labor Union party was merely local, and
that it was only valuable as a political as-
set to any man who could throw its votes
for either of the great parties. But the
flattery and applause did not come solely
from his international following of wage-
earners, and would-be office holders. He
at once — strange as it may seem — became
a great potentiality in the ranks of the
Republicans, and no one had more influ-
ence and power in their local councils than
he. Naturally, he bethought himself
whereby he could personally profit by all
this power and importance, and his eyes
at once rested upon a seat in the Senate,
which, considering his personal ability
and the men whom this State, as a rule,
has sent to represent her in the upper
chamber at Washington, was not an ex-
travagant ambition. More than that, one
of his race had been, was, in fact, at the
time, a Senator from Oregon, and that in-
creased his ambition and hopes. He took
for his model Hanna, and his intimates —
so far as any one can be called an inti-
mate of Ruef — will tell you that he con-
stantly alluded to the Ohio leader and ex-
pressed intense admiration for him.
The first administration of Schmitz,
therefore, started in under the most for-
tunate circumstances. Everything was be-
fore him, absolutely nothing politically be-
hind him. He had been elected really as
a reform Mayor, and had the confidence
of both the business classes and the labor
unions. Of it little need be said. It was
neither surprisingly good or strikingly
bad.
He undoubtedly prevented or adjusted
many labor troubles and strikes, and his
appointments would compare favorably
with those of his predecessors. His fail-
ures were not conspicuous, nor his admin-
istration corrupt. But with his new pc
tion came quite a different point of vie
of the world from that which he had hac
from the orchestra box of the theatre.
People who would never have thought of
chumming or dining with a fiddler in an
orchestra, were delighted to Tse seen with
the Mayor, and of course, as the chief offi-
cial of the city, he was a guest of honor at
the banquets with which the city greeted
its distinguished visitors, from President
down. The fact, too, that he was "a labor
union" Mayor had attracted more than
the usual amount of attention to him all
over the country, and those who fancy that
every wage earner eats in his shirt sleeves
on all occasions, or that overalls are the
dress suits of unionism, were surprised,
and frankly said so, when they met him.
Schmitz made an excellent impression,
was popular with the notables whom he
met, and in that lies his undoing. When
a man associates with railroad Presidents,
United States Senators and prominent
foreigners, he naturally desires to do what
he sees his companions doing. Schmitz
ceased to eat at "the creameries," and was
to be seen nightly with large and more or
less distinguished parties at the most fash-
ionable restaurants. Poached eggs on
toast and a small steak disappeared before
pate-de-fois-gras and Welsh rarebits, and
when he traveled, he must needs stop at
the very best hotels, and have the very best
accommodations, such as his millionaire
friends, Harriman or Dingee, are sup-
posed to enjoy. But all these luxuries
take money, and even the six thousand
dollars of a Mayor of San Francisco were
not enough to "keep up the pace," and
therein lies the secret of the graft, of the
dishonesty, of the holding up of first this
and then that business or institution.
With Ruef the same causes produced the
same results, with the further fact that, of
course, he had a natural tendency to make
money, and had acquired several pieces of
property by more or less questionable
methods before he became the chaperon
of Schmitz, if rumor speak true. He
wanted to be a Senator, and Senators, he
knew, were generally men of means. So
far as the rabble was concerned that
yelped at his door and cheered his every
act, he despised them to a man, and looked
upon them as simply a means to an end.
Schmitz was in the same category with the
CONFESSIONS OF A STENOGRAPHER.
10;
other office seekers. He was useful, noth-
ing more. When the Mayor talked of be-
coming a candidate for Governor, Ruef
discouraged him, and secretly made an al-
liance with a San Jose millionaire to
boom the latter for the executive chair.
Ruef did not care so much for the display,
the intimate friendships with millionaires,
the social elevation as Schmitz. He
wanted money, and he wanted power, but
he did not care whether he dined with Mc-
Carthy or Herrin, with a labor leader or
a Southern Pacific official. His family
had no desire to lead the fashions, and
he would never have made the mistake of
occupying the bridal apartments at the
Waldorf Hotel, or of going to Europe as
though he were a newly created Nevada
millionaire. He saw the folly of the pace
that Schmitz was setting; he urged him
not to build his elaborate home, which
every one knew could not have been erect-
ed out of the proceeds of the Mayor's sal-
ary; he begged him not to make the ill-
advised trip to Europe, where Schmitz
went to receive the applause and lauda«
tion of crown hea;ds, and with an insane
fancy that he would even dine with the
Kaiser before he returned home. Bt t
Ruef's wise advice was disregarded, and
the Mayor even accelerated his pace.
He had been twice re-elected Mayor
again, owing to other combinations of cir-
cumstances, the first re-election being due
to the unpopularity of his Republican op-
ponent on the one hand, and to the
treacherousness of the politicians who se-
cretly formed an alliance with him and
threw down their own candidate in his
favor. As for the Democrats, the} nomi-
nated a strong candidate — Franklin K.
Lane, the present Interstate Commerce
Commissioner — but his party proved even
more treacherous to him than the Repub-
licans were to tbeir candidate, and hav-
ing refused to bear the yoke of the would-
be dictator of his party, he was "knifed"
so badly that he only carried one precinct
in the city. Two years later the opposi-
tion endeavored to unite, but jealousies
were allowed to prevail, and every leader
had his hand raised against his neighbor,
until finally an inconspicuous young man
was suggested as a candidate for Mayor,
and was, of course, defeated.
Thus, events and circumstances which
had absolutely nothing to do with Schmitz,
which were in no wise controlled by him,
and to which he contributed nothing, have ]
twice re-elected him Mayor. Foolishly he;
arrogated oo himself the success which had
attended his candidacy, and with pride
coming before a fall, he has continued up-
on his course, until it has accomplished)
his ruin.
The exposure of the graft in San Fran- 1
cisco politics is due to causes as far-re-
moved from those that led to the expo-
ures in St. Louis, Minneapolis and Phila-
delphia as the corruption there differed in
its characteristics from the graft in San
Francisco. In those cities, the exposures
came either on the initiative of some hon-
est official who was elected to office, as in
the case of Folk, who became the prose-
cuting attorney of St. Louis, or else
through the indignation and uprising of)
the people as in the case of Philadelphia.
But in San Francisco neither motive pro-
duced the results that to-day attract the
attention of the world. No public 'official
undertook of his own initiative to begin
and carry on the investigation; neither
was there any public demand for anything
of the kind. If the people were being
robbed, they certainly did not complain,
and it is worthy of note that in San Fran-
cisco the usual means of graft, such as
street contracts, or public buildings, have
not figured in the illegal gains of Schmitz
and his fellow boodlers at all.
The initiative of the San Francisco in-
vestigation belongs to Rudolph Spreckels,
son of the Sugar King, and one of the
numerous millionaires of the city, who
was influenced by business reasons, and
who associated with himself several other
wealthy citizens in the subscription to a
large fund, which they raised for the pur-
pose of carrying on the exposure. It has
been the policy of the Spreckels family for
many years — in fact, they have made most
of their money by the method — to take
up some public enterprise, associate them-
selves with it, under the plea that they
were helping the public, and then at the
proper time to drop out, always with a
handsome profit to the good side of their
bank account. In that way, they years
ago built a sugar refinery in Philadelphia,
which they subsequently sold to the sugar
trust, with an agreement that the trust
would not interfere with their trade on
this coast.
MAYOR SCHMITZ, FOUND GUILT f OF EXTORTION.
CONFESSIONS OP A STENOGRAPHER.
Later they took advantage of public in-
dignation against demands and extortions
of the Southern Pacific, and started a com-
pany to build a railroad down the San
Joaquin Valley, which it was pledged
would be a competing line for the farmers
of that valley, though, as usual, it was sold
years ago at a profit to the Spreckels, to
the Santa Fe. Again a competing electric
light company was formed, and in due
time sold out, and still later, even to-day,
there is much gossip about their manipu-
lation of the Oceanic Steamship Company
which has gone almost into bankruptcy,
its shares falling from a handsome figure
to almost nothing.
Just before the earthquake of a year
ago, the Spreckels — Rudolph in particular
— had organized a street car company,
which was to have put an underground
trolley system on several of the streets of
the city, and which would have been quite
a rival to the present United Eailroads,
until it followed the usual route of the
Spreckel's companies, as outlined above.
But the earthquake came, and the com-
pany never completed its organization.
The United Eailroads had been busy fight-
ing for a franchise to turn most of their
cable lines into trolley systems at the time
of the great disaster, and the Spreckelses
were among the most active opponents of
the measure. After the fire, however, the
United Railroads secured their franchise,
and of course that very seriously impaired
the value of the proposed Spreckels road.
Just at this point Mr. Spreckels suddenly
announced that he would guarantee a
fund of $100,000 to prosecute the city
boodlers. The money was raised, and the
brilliant Francis J. Heney (who had dis-
tinguished himself in the prosecution of
Senator Mitchell and other prominent
persons in Oregon for land frauds) was
engaged to take hold of the investigation,
and it was begun. Among the charges was
one that the franchise, to substitute the
trolley for the cable by the United Rail-
roads had been obtained by fraud and
bribery, and of course, if that can be
proven, it may be possible to successfully
attack the franchise and to have it re-
scinded. This would certainly be of im-
mense advantage to any rival road, espec-
ially as in many cases the cable road has
been torn up, and it would mean the sus-
pension of all traffic over many lines if the
United Railroads were forced to return
to the inadequate cable system of the past
decades.
The reader is as capable of deciding as
the writer, whether under the facts as
here set forth Rudolph Spreckels is a
patriot or no. No one will dispute that
the statements here made are absolutely
true. It is only fair to say that besides
Mr. Spreckels's interest in the street car
franchise there were several other inter-
ests, including the water supply, for the
city, which would profit by a conviction of
the city administration in the granting of
franchises, and the action it has taken
in granting privileges to companies which
proposed to supply different public utili-
ties ; and it is worthy of note that the ac-
tual bribe receivers, with the exception of
the Mayor, have all been granted immu-
nity from their confessed dishonesty, while
the gentlemen who, in the interests of the
public, have been exposing them have
even held them in office, while at the same
time every effort has been made to convict
and injure the business rivals of Spreckels
and hifl friends. Thus it can be seen that
the nature of graft in San Francisco is
entirely different from the graft situation
in the other big cities of the United
States.
THE FIRST ASCENT OF
MOUNT SHUKSAN
BY ASAHEL CURTIS
ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS.
NO CLEANER, fairer sport can be found under the heavens than the ascent
of some unclimbed peak, and he who plays the game must needs be patient,
sound of wind, and strong of limb. After days and nights of tram,ping,
when the last grim obstacle has been overcome, and some pinnacle of rock or ice,
untrodden since the dawn of creation, htis been reached, no enjoym,ent can be
keener. This is the first of a series of articles on scaling the world's peaks, told
by those who have succeeded. Mr. Asahel Curtis tells in the following vigorous
article how he reached the summit of Mt. Shuksan. In September w<i will pub-
lish the second, a strong and keenly descriptive account of the ascent of Mt. Fuji,
the famed peak of Japan. That article will be followed by vivid stories of moun-
tain climbers of Sunset Mountain, an extinct volcano of Northern Arizona, and
of the Matterhorn. — EDITOR.
THE lure and challenge of the un-
climbed, unconquered mountain,
with its wastes of rock and ice,
leads one into untrodden countries, by
strange trails, where deep blue valleys
wind away to the ends of the earth.
No finer or better sport can be found
than this contest with nature. It lead?
one into the wilderness where nature is
seen at her grandest. Where rock and
snow pile highest, swept by the winds of
heaven, where every obstacle of nature
has to be overcome, there the keenest
sport will be found. The challenge is
always there, but the season is short, for
with the first approach of winter these
THE FIKST ASCENT OF MOUNT SHUKSAN.
Ill
;owering crags of earth withdraw into a
solitude. It is a sport that all can enjoy,
md from which all can gain strength,
learning the ways of falling rock and
sliding snow, and how to avoid one diffi-
culty and overcome the next, until suc-
cess greets one at last.
It was such a challenge that led Mr.
W. M. Price and I to attempt the ascent
of Mount Shuksan, which we made during
the Mazama outing to Mount Baker, in
August, 1906. We had planned to make
the ascent even at the cost of the official
climb of Baker, for Baker had -been
climbed many times. Shuksan is a rem-
nant of the great plateau from which the
Cascade range has been carved, and is the
all, as the mountain was a mass of greaD
pinnacles sheeted in hanging glaciers.
Curious to see the mountain, and assure
ourselves that its very presence was no
myth, we started soon after breakfast to
climb the western slope of Table Moun-
tain, which lay between our camp and
Shuksan. In an hour we were on top,
watching the strange pigmies that were
moving in the little patch of green with
the white spots which we knew was camp,
but which, through the clear mountain
air, appeared but a few hundred feet away.
After many wild hallos we made the
sound carry to those pigmies, and were
greeted with cheers and wild waving of
handkerchiefs.
MT SHUKSAN, 10,600 FEET HIGH.
highest point left of the original upheaval.
It is situated in the northern part of
Washington, some fifteen miles east of
Mount Baker.
We could find no record of an ascent,
and were warned of the danger of an at-
tempt. Major Ingraham, who climbed
Baker some years ago, cautioned us par-
ticularly of the danger of avalanches
which their party heard, across the fifteen
miles that separates the two mountains.
Glasscock, who climbed Baker alone in
the spring of 1906, reported that the as-
cent would be very difficult, if possible at
To the eastward a wall of snow still
shut us in, but above its crest there rose,
into the blue sky, the point of a distant
finger of rock. Hurriedly we climbed the
snowfield, to see what lay below that fin-
ger, and, once on top of the crest, saw
the mountain in all its forbidding gran-
deur. Stretching away to the southeast,
almost from our feet, lay a long rocky
ridge, cut through by deep gorges, filled
with snow. Each succeeding peak of the
ridge rose higher and wilder, until a
great black mass of rock barred the way.
Down the sides of this, streams of ice
112
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
were flowing, falling from ledge to ledge
in their descent from the summit
snowfields. Between the two upper snow-
fields rose the rock finger we had seen
from below, a thousand feet above the
rest of the mountain, black and forbid-
ding, too steep for snow to cling to. Eest-
ing on the very top of this finger we
could clearly see a rock weighing tons, so
balanced that it appeared to overhang by
thirty feet. This rock at once became our
goal, and the challenge to make the ascent
was accepted as our own.
The first attempt to ascend the moun-
tain was made along this ridge, with a
hope that a way could be found from shelf
to shelf of the hanging glaciers and thus
To the south, loosened rocks rolled
sight in a cloud of dust, but the roar sent
up from the void was ominous.
At many places we found tracks
mountain goats, and had been keeping a
sharp lookout for a sight of one, but had
not been successful. Coming up the slope,
over soft snow, we made little noise, and
came out on the shoulder of a crag, when
suddenly a goat sprang from his bed not
fifteen feet away, and in curiosity, stood
for a full minute, broadside, with head
turned to see what curious animal had in-
vaded his home. Before a camera could
be unslung from the pack, he had van-
ished un the mountain side with a speed
and ease that seemed marvelous. Later or
SNOW FIELDS NEAR THE SUMMIT.
— onj;o the snowfields, at the base of the
pinnacle. These snowfields must be
reached some time in the ascent; it was
only a choice of routes. Hour after hour
we toiled up the peaks of the ridge and
into the gorges between. Each peak rose
higher than the last, timber growth dwin-
dled to sprawling shrubs, and we were
still not on the main mountain. WJhere
the ridge ended and the real bulk of the
mountain began, a deeper gorge scarred
the rock, like a great gash, and we were
able to get into it only because of the
snow that lay deep on the northern side.
his tracks were seen on a snow slope at an
angle of 60 degrees, where we had to chop
steps in the frozen snow, but he had gone
apparently with ease.
After fourteen hours of ceaseless effo:t
a crag was reached, between two of the gla-
ciers, almost directly beneath the main
summit, but separated from it by gre^t
glaciers, seamed with deep crevasses. A
way might be found through this maze,
but it would require days of work. No
camp could be made on the sheer crag-?,
and it was then five o'clock, with the sum-
mit hidden in rolling clouds, so reluctant-
THE SOUTHEAST SIDE OF SHUK8AN, WHERE THE ASCENT WAS MADE, SHOW-
I Ml Till: PRECIPITOUS CHARACTER OF THE PEAK.
114
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
ly the attempt had to be abandoned.
Our work was not useless, however, as
we found what we thought would prove
an easier but longer route of reaching the
snowfields at the base of the pinnacle.
After a day in camp to rest, we started
once more for the mountain, planning r,o
try the southwest slope between two <f
the lesser glaciers. We could not hope to
reach the summit in a single day, so made
a leisurely trip across the beautiful val-
leys that lie at the base of Shuksan ridge.
Blue-berries, just ripening, led us many
times from the trail; the sweet incense of
mountain grass and flowers charmed us,
and we were loath to leave, but over the
top of the ridge, faint in the afternoon
stunted Towth of mountain trees grew
up to the 6,000 foot level.
Here every possible route was traced,
everv glacier and snowfield searched for a
route up the mountain. We finally de-
termined to try a crevice that seemed to
cut across the whole face of one of the
rocky spurs.
Going then to the southward along the
base of Shuksan, steadily climbing, over
talus and the moraine of a glacier, under
a water-fall that plunged down from its
icy birthplace, we rose above the valley.
The route we had chosen appeared to
the favorite one of goats, for many h
traveled it. It may have been their main
thoroughfare, but they are surely not fit-
AMONG THE CRAGS OF MT. SHUKSAN.
haze, hung the same grim mountain mass,
its challenge still unanswered.
Turning to the eastward, up a tribu-
tarv, we climbed a spur of the main ridge,
and from the pass saw the whole mass of
the mountain, which here rose 8,000 feet
above the valley. Directly in front of us
a cascade glacier crawled down the moun-
tain side. From its front, blocks of clear
blue ice broke away and fell until they
were ground to dust. Beautiful threads
of water fell over the cliffs, becoming
wreaths of spray in their descent, while
on the protected points of the ridges a
ting engineers to run lines for humans.
Sunset found us on a spur at timber
line, the lower world lost in the haze of
forest fires. The ridges of the mountair
disappeared in the smoke, and we felt
that our camp was suspended above the
world. Across the valley, the rounded
shoulder of a foothill broke through, while
dimly outlined in the west the mighty
dome of Baker appeared like some fairy
creation in the heavens, rather than a
mountain of earth. Its foothills were gone
and the soft haze magnified the icy slopes
behind which the sun was setting.
THE FIEST ASCENT OF MOUNT SHUKSAN.
115
In the last light of day a brush shelter
was built and wood gathered for an all-
night fire. We had no blankets, the
weight of camera and food being all we
carerl to take on such a trip, and the
nights were cold. The stars were out be-
fore our shelter was finished and supper
cooked, so with shoes for a pillow we feil
asleep. Countless times we were awakened
by the cold as the fire died down, or by
sliding into the fire. There was no diffi-
culty in telling when morning came, and
no reluctance about leaving our impro-
vised beds.
Thus far everything had proven favor-
able, and refreshed by a fair night's sleep,
we started up the snow slopes between the
glaciers. Ridges of rock divided the snow,
nacle that we had been seeking so long,
with nothing between to prevent our ap-
proach. The rock itself looked formidable
enough: only one small patch of snow
found a resting place on its side, but it
did not appear impossible.
In spite of the smoke the view was mag-
nificent. To the eastward a group of les-
ser pinnacles, unnamed, unknown, broke
through the ice capping. Beyond, seen
faintly through the haze, a thousand snow-
capped peaks or ragged rocky pinnacles
too steep to hold snow, rose into view. This
mass of mountains, the Cascades rising ^o
meet the Selkirks, is the highest point left
of the primary upheaval in Washington,
and probably the most beautiful in the
State.
PRICE BUILDING THE CAIRN.
each succeeding one steeper than the last,
but the rock cleavage afforded fair hand
and foot holds. The snow slopes were
soon too steep to be trusted without cut-
ting steps, and there was no time to do
this, so we were forced to follow the rocks
wherever possible. The slope ended
finally, just below the crest, in a clear
field of snow, and steps had to be cut to
the top. Once up this, and we knew that
the ascent could be made, for before us
stretched the great snowfields that cover
the main plateau, and which feeds a sys-
tem of glaciers flowing out on all sides ex-
cept the north. Across two miles of ice
and snow appeared the same black pin-
Our way now lay along the crest of the
ridge, near the northwest side, and we
could see, far down below, the crags we
had reached in our first attempt. Once at
the base of the pinnacle, the real rock
work of the ascent began. There was a
Irandred yards of easy going, then straight
up the rock face, clutching a hand-hold
here, a foot hold there, we worked our
way. We were following the crest of the
ridge, little more than a knife edge, which
fell away in a dizzying descent on either
side. Crevices in the rock were scarce
and insecure, and in many cases pieces of
rock had to be chipped away with the back
of a hand axe to give any hold at all.
116
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
These gave a very uncertain hold, but
enough to take one up. We were next
barred by a smooth face of rock, and I
lifted Price up until he could get a grip
on a shelf above and slowly drag himself
up onto it and drop a line to me. Our
greatest danger lay in some piece of rock
giving away when our whole weight was
on it. This happened in spite of the
greatest caution, and in one case both a
hand and a foot-hold broke at the same
time, giving a quick, hair-raising fall to
the shelf below. A few moments' rest
was necessary to quiet the nerves, and
greater caution was exercised to prevent
a second occurrence. Price told me after-
ward that he spent the time thinking how
such a great mass could have been left
balanced on such a small summit.
We searched the entire summit for some
trace of a previous ascent, but found none.
There was no record of any kind, no
cairn had been built, as is the custom, and
we could find no rocks disturbed. Along
the entire summit the rocks lay so loosely,
so nearly balanced, that the slightest
touch would send them down the moun-
tain, and it seemed impossible that any
one had ever trodden on that summit. In
many places the rocks were fused and
burned, apparently by lightning.
Both felt that the return by the route
we had come would prove unsafe, and we
determined to try some other way. Cau-
PRICE AND CURTIS ON THE SUMMIT.
he could have taken me back to camp had
I missed the shelf.
Fr was here that we first saw the beauti-
ful moss campion, unknown on the lower
levels, which splashed the dark rocks a
beautiful pink with its flowers. Masses of
the moss clung in the slightest crevice,'
with so little to nourish them that they
were already wilting in the sun.
A thousand feet of such climbing, and
we turned a corner of rock beneath the
last crag of the summit. On its very top
rested the overhanging rock we had seen
from below. For thirty feet its huge bulk
overhung, and it seemed marvelous that
tiousiy dropping from rock to rock, we
worked our way to the head of a chimney,
west of the crest by which we had climbed,
then down it, clinging to the sides as we
dropped from crevice to crevice. It was
necessary to keep very close together to
avoid the danger of falling rocks. With
only two this danger was not as great as
with a larger party, but the shower of
rocks never ceased. The descent was made
very rapidly, and in fifty minutes we were
once more on the snowfield.
A day's tramp still lay before us, and it
was then after twelve, so not a moment
could be wasted. Snow slopes that had
BEAUTIFUL HANGING GLACIERS OF MT. SHUKSAN.
118 OVERLAND MONTHLY.
taken a half hour to climb were coasted in gathering twilight. Just as the sta:
less than a minute, and no matter how came out, we stood on a ridge above tl
steep the slope, we felt that we had to go valley taking a moment's farewell look i
down. Long shadows lay across the val- the mountain we felt in some way to I
leys, but their charm was not for us ; it our own, its dim bulk showing faintly. A
seemed impossible for our exhausted mus- we stood thus watching, there came to i
cles to drag us up the steep slopes, but we the distant roar of an avalanche th<
had nothing to eat, and felt that we must seemed to us like a farewell gun from it
make camp that night, so kept on in the conquered mountain.
BY ALOYSIUS COLL
THINK you, when the russet luster
Of the autumn in your hair,
Fades away, and winters cluster
In the ashen embers there,
Then that love, to you returning,
Shall revive the springtime glow,
And, her sweet young blossoms spurning,
Dig your dead wish from the snow?
Think you, when the merry laughter
From your lips has died away,
And the echoes that come after
Fade to silence all the day,
Then that love shall set the blunder
Of your aching heart at rest,
And, in tones of mellow thunder,
Rouse the dead wish from your breast?
Think you, when the days have banished,
On the mists of doubt that rise,
Every smile, and mirth has vanished
From the mirrors of your eyes,
Then that Love, all unbeholden,
Shall return to kiss your mouth,
And to give your lips the olden
Sunshine of the smiling South?
Think you, maid — when now the summer
Paints your cheek with fragrant bloom-
All too soon the bold newcomer,
Winter and his touch of doom !
Watch for Love; when first you meet him,
Bid him welcome at your door —
For if once you scorn to greet him,
He may come again no more!
LAGUNA DEL KEY AT DEL MONTE.
BY WASHI:NTGTOX DAVIS
ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS.
LL who seek enchanted
spots where they can
make the most of
happy days at reason-
able prices, or who
may be driven from
the troublous cares of
business or office toil
to find relief where seabirds spread their
lazy wings in the fragrant ocean breeze;
where nature keeps a tryst with flowers,
fields, orchards and forests overlooking the
sea to soothe and revive the weary heart
and hand — all men and women who long
for such a spot will rejoice to know that
this place has been found for them, and
is now being prepared by experienced men
who are real builders of California's
greatness.
Charming, indeed, through winter,
spring, summer and autumn is Monterey
Bay and its beautiful surrounding cres-
cent of mountains, hills and fields, stretch-
ing so gently down to its miles of glisten-
ing, velvety, white sand beach. Here the
rhythm of the waves has a peculiar fasci-
nation, for there is never a storm. It is
all gentle, yet invigorating, bracing, bring-
ing a cheerfulness that has no aftermath.
The evening wind brings ozone from the
rising, falling bosom of the Western sea,
where float the ships in plain view at their
moorings, while the morning land breeze
returns the delicate mountain air. So
attractive are the scenes, beauties and ad-
vantages of living at Del Monte Heights
that my pen is tempted to run to almost
endless lengths and breadths of poetic
coloring, yet a few brief touches must suf-
fice.
Whether gathering up the mosses, shells
and things put out by the sea upon its
bordering sands; whether seeking historic
relics, sketching and painting from nature,
trailing through real sweet-smelling old
pine forests, following a lover's bridle-
path to shady nook or enchanting solitude,
drinking at the many invigorating min-
eral springs, viewing the Government
military parades as they face the morning
sun from the presidio, dining with a rav-
enous appetite and a splendid menu set
before you ; whether you are grave or gay,
young or old, Del Monte Heights, one
mile east of the famous Del Monte Park
and Hotel, as a seaside resort, winter or
summer home, offers a splendid welcome
and- a perennial charm to all who love and
120
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
appreciate nature's bounties embellished
by the arts of man.
Within a few minutes' walk of the up-
ward slope at Del Monte Heights you may
reach the beach and see a great fleet of
small sail busy dragging salmon into their
boats. You may do this yourself before
breakfast if you like, for there are 652
kinds of fish more or less in Monterey
Bay, and nearly all of them are eatable.
It costs you nothing to try it, and if you
put in your hook or net you are almost
sure to get some kind of a bite. Of course,
boating, bathing and all the seashore ac-
cessories are there in nature's perfection.
Then to the west, south and east are the
mountains, hills, valleys, ravines, canyons,
caves and trickling streams. One of these
famous canyons is called the "King's Or-
chard," just south of Del Monte Heights,
where one hundred years ago the Spanish
priests settled and planted fruit trees. An
old pear tree is still growing there. Other
vegetation from palm tree to live oak
adorns the landscape and makes the homes
for big and small game, which in these
days are represented by species of quail,
squirrel, rabbit, coyote, wolf, mountain
lion, deer and bear. You may hunt these
in the canyons, foothills and mountains,
If you are too restless to fish. All that is
necessary is the most ordinary hunting
equipment and observance of the game
laws. Then go up through the odorous
pines, where stayrs sang in the long ago,
after you pass the groups and hedges of
the celebrated Monterey cypress, which is
abundant, grows anywhere, is formed into
any shape, and has a fragrance all its
own.
Particularly beautiful is Laguna Del
Eey (the lake of the king), lying midway
between the Del Monte Hotel and Del
Monte Heights. This lake is being put in-
to enjoyable shape for the pleasure of
those who are fortunate enough to live in
this neighborhood. Popular field sports,
such as golf, polo, tennis, baseball and
other outdoor amusements have many
devotees here. The Del Monte race track
is only a mile south of this.
Eiding, driving and automobiling are
in vogue nearly the year round. The fam-
ous seventeen-mile drive around the point
of the peninsula has a different interest-
ing feature for every mile. The Carmel
Mission church is one of these features.
It was the home of the founder of Califor-
nia missions, Father Junipero Serra.
Around to the west of it, on the fine drive,
is the town of Pacific Grove, thence to the
east is Monterey, Del Monte, and last and
best of all, Del Monte Heights.
Best, of all is Del Monte Heights, for
the very good geographical, topographies
and historical reasons that the people whc
laid out and built up the other place
along the north side of the peninsula kne\
practically nothing about city buildin£
They pitched their tents in fine localities
but so limited in area that the available
ground for building has long since beer
taken up, and it is next to impossible foi
these towns to expand.
But modern methods of building a towr
are now being applied to Del Mont
Heights, which is to be decorated by al
the latest methods of building homes anr
houses for public and private occupatioi
Smart are the gentlemen who are doing
this — wise are they who are decoratii
Del Monte Heights with a fine moderi
town. Among them are George W. Phelpa
— -who was one of the pioneer builders of
the University town of Berkeley, and per-
haps had more to do with its upbuilding
than any other man.
J. Hall Lewis, who organized and
founded the bank of Half Moon Bay,
was the mainspring of the activities
at that place.
A. D. Bowen has already completed
two systems of railways, and is now en-
gaged in completing the Monterey, Fresno
and Eastern. He is one of the most suc-
cessful railway builders on the Pacific
Coast ,i not on the continent.
H. W. Postlethwaite, a prominent capi-
talist of San Francisco, is interested in a
several important local enterprises.
These gentlemen chose for their location
a tract of five hundred acres of land, part
of which was formerly called Vista Del
Rey (view of the king.) Around Del
Monte Heights is the king's country. The
Spanish fathers knew it when they named
it Mont-el-rey (Monterey), mountain of
the king; Laguna Del Eey, lake of the
king; Vista Del Eey, view of the king;
Huerta Del Eey, orchard of the king. But
as every man in a free country can be king
for himself, he can go to this former king's
country, and put up a castle, mansion,
plain home, or bungalow, and his home
122
OVEKLAXD MONTHLY.
life and surroundings will be good enough
for any king.
Why is this ? Well, if the reader of this
will pardon me, which he ought to, I will
answer this question with one sentence,
which may sound exactly as though I were
running a real estate boom, but I am not,
though this is the concrete truth :
Del Monte Heights is next door to Ho-
tel Del Monte ; it overlooks Monterey Bay,
Monterey City and Pacific Grove, facing
the United States Presidio; it is within
five minutes' walk of the finest fishing on
earth or in the sea; the climate is cool in
summer and warm in winter, with no fog
and no wind, only breeze; it is alongside
the Southern Pacific, and on the other
side is a new railroad being built on an
old survey. This is the fine location which
these gentlemen_ have chosen on which to
build a city with oiled streets, modern
schools, churches, water supply, light sup-
ply, transportation, including a complete
electric railway system throughout the
tract, and other facilities of latest civiliza-
tion; and these men have the ability and
experience to properly decorate Del Monte
Heights.
POLO AT DEL MONTE.
THE SKY AND THE SEA
AND THE EARTH
BY S. M. SALYER
I LOVE you, city of the thousand clouds,
With your proud-sailed ships in shifting crowds.
And your floods of sun that ever pour
Their currents strong to some unknown shore.
I love you, sky, for the mystery,
That calls my spirit up to thee !
I love you, sea of the thousand smiles,
Whose laughter sounds o'er changing miles,
With your low-sung songs of tenderness
Which only the wide heart can express.
I love you, sea, for your sympathy,
That rests the weary heart of me !
I love you, earth of the winding ways,
That lead me on thro' the endless days,
For your plan of hope and struggle and strife,
And your zest in a toil-begotten life !
I love you, earth, as you beckon me,
On your paths of opportunity !
GRAND BALCONY, HEIDELBERG CASTLE.
EUROPEAN HOTELS
BY FRED GILBERT BLAKESLEE
ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS.
of the most import-
ant questions which
presents itself to tour-
ists in Europe is that of
the art of living, for
no matter what cities or
towns the tour may in-
clude, what galleries or
cathedrals visited, or gaieties indulged in,
it is primarily necessary to have a place in
which to sleep and to be able to procure
food as often as required. Upon arrival
at a strange city, therefore, the first ef-
forts of a tourist are directed towards se-
curing accommodation in some hotel suit-
ed to his purse.
The American and the European hotel
differ in many respects. In the latter the
spacious office with . its massive counter,
open book, and key rack, is missing. The
oilice in even the best Continental hotels
is usually a small place, known as the
bureau, where one simply engages rooms
and pays bills. It is not, as in this coun-
try, a place where men smoke, chat and
read their papers. In it, telephone and
telegraph booths, newspaper and cigar
stands are conspicuous for their absence,
and the ice water tank is an unknown lux-
ury.
In many . hotels the living rooms are
lighted by candles instead of gas or elec-
tricity, and guests are often required to
furnish their own soap. Elevators, known
as lifts, have in recent years been in-
stalled in most of the larger hotels, but
Europeans seem to regard them as a some-
what unsafe means of conveyance, and
make but scant use of them. The elevator
is arjt to be working upon the arrival of
a guest, but stran^elv out of order at other
times. At one hotel at which the author
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
stopped, the guests were required to oper-
ate the car themselves, and send it back
empty when they were through with it.
All European hotels that have elevators
proudly proclaim the fact upon their bill-
heads.
Strange as it may seem, many of tho
smaller hotels, even in the larger cities,
do not keep open all night, and the guest
who is out later than midnight has to ring
up the porter in order to oe admitted. In
some of the hotels of Paris, the porters
have an ingenious method of saving them-
selves the trouble of arising in order to
admit late guests. W'hen the hotel is closed
for the night the porter makes up a cot
bed for himself in some handy place, con-
nects a string with the latch and turns
in with the other end of the string tied to
his wrist. Whenever the bell rings, he
simply pulls the string, thus lifting the
latch, and leaves the guest to open and
close the door, get his own key, and find
his way to his room as best he can. Imag-
ine a visitor to New York going through
an experience like this.
Manv foreign hotels possess great inter-
est for the traveler on account of the as-
sociations connected with them, while
others are famous for the beauty of
their surroundings. To the former class
belong the Grand in Venice, once a noble-
man's mlace; the Chapman in Florence,
a former residence of Pauline Bonaparte;
the Mitre, at Oxford, which has had a
continuous existence as a hotel since 1400;
and the Pare at Lugano, which was an old
monastery. In the latter class are the
Grand at Bellagio, on the shore of lovely
Lake Como ; the Alps at Chamonix, lying
under the shadow of Mount Blanc; the
Eigi Kulm, perched on the summit of the
Rigi, and the Schloss at Heidelberg, over-
looking one of Europe's most beautiful
ruins.
As regards moderation in prices charged
for accommodation, the foreign hotel far
surpasses our own. Good rooms can be
procured in high-class hotels in France,
Switzerland or Italy for sixty cents a day,
and in Germany for seventy-five. In Eng-
land the rates are slightly higher, but even
there accommodation in the finest hotels
can be secured for from four to six shill-
ings per ni^ht, and in the smaller ones for
two shillinp-s sixpence.
The apartments furnished at these
prices are not, of course, the most expen-
sive, but correspond to those costing from
one to two dollars in an American house.
GRAND HOTEL, VENICE.
RIGI KULM HOTEL, RIGI.
If one arranges for a pension rate (one
that includes meals and lodgings) it is
possible to live well in almost any part
of Europe for $2 a day.
London has a number of what are
known as Temperance Hotels. They aro
usually neat, quiet places, largely patron-
ized by the clergy and ladies traveling un-
attended, and at most of them good board
and lodging can be had for a dollar and a
half a day.
Paris possesses manir Hotel Meublees — •
places where apartments can be hired by
the day or week, but where meals are not
served, except, perhaps, coffee and rolls in
the morning, and for the tourist of limited
means, no better arrangement can be made
than for him to stop at one of these lit-
tle hotels and. dine in the various restau-
rants, and cafes that are scattered broad-
cast all over the city.
In many of the smaller hotels through-
out Eurone, candles only are furnished for
lights in the sleeping rooms. One candle
is allowed to each room ; if more are or-
dered an extra charge is made. Some
economically minded guests adopt the plan
of carrvino- awav the partiallv consumed
candle of one hotel for use in the next,
thus securing increased illumination with-
out extra expense.
The European ideas in regard to heat
are in a primitive state. Steam heaters
are practically unknown on the other side
of the Atlantic, and (rooms are warmed by
means of fire places or grates. Germany
uses stoves almost exclusively ; great tall
white porcelain affairs that look like
monuments in a grave-yard, and as Mark
Twain aptly puts it, "keep you thinking
of death when you ought to be enjoying
your travels." Europeans seem to require
less heat than do Americans, a temperature
of from 50 to 60 degrees beinp- considered
quite comfortable for a living room.
In Germany they have a curious concep-
tion of what constitutes a bed. Unlike
other mortals, the German sleeps by lying
on a mattress and putting a feather bed
over him, and either feathers are expensive
in that country or else the bed makers are
laboring under the delusion that the Ger-
mans are a race of dwarfs, for the bed is
never by any accident long enough, and if
one 'happens to have the misfortune to be
very much over five feet in height, he has
to be doubled up like a contortionist in
order to be covered at all points at once.
The service in most of the hotels of
Euronp is excellent, and in some respects
superior to that in our own hotels. Cer-
tainly a person unacquainted with any lan-
guage but his own fares far better abroad
than he would at home. The waiters, por-
ters and maids all speak from three to
five languages, and are as courteous a lot
HEIDELBERG CASTLE SEEN FROM THE SCHLOSS HOTEL.
HOTEL DU PARC BUILDING, WITH TOWER LUGANO.
EUROPEAN HOTELS.
12?
of people as it would be possible to find
anywhere.
When leaving a hotel a guest is pre-
sented with a written statement of his
account, in which each item (such as lodg-
ing, breakfast, dinner, etc.) is charged sep-
arately, and it is well to scan this bill
closely before paying it. Hotel keepers
are, as a rule, honest, but "errors in book-
keeping," which are rarely in favor of the
guest, are by no means uncommon.
Persons who stop at a hotel upon what
we call the American plan, should beware
of ordering extras that are not included
in the menu, for such extras are often
charged for at excessive rates. Coffee, for
instance, is only served at breakfast at
some hotels ; if ordered at any other time,
it is an extra and almost invariably costs
twenty cents a cup.
It is no longer believed that all Ameri-
cans are rich, and the tourist from the
"States" who asks for what he wants will
receive fair treatment and be regarded
with respect; but the man who lets the
landlord do as he pleases with him will
naturally be looked upon as an easy mark,
and be very apt to be bled accordingly.
THE EXILE
BY F. W. K.
YOUR heart had held me all the years,
Until it seemed my home.
The web you wove to bind the spell
Is tangled — and I roam;
And you must, grieving, hide that grief,
The mother-love and pain,
Until the knowledge of your loss
Shall lead me home again.
Is life so full without you now —
Is there no loneliness,
No sudden sting of memory
When other hands caress?
Is life so free from other ties
Than ihose the hour brings,
That Time may not turn back a leaf
To sweet, familiar things?
I miss you so I do not dare
Retrace to count the cost!
Nor scan the future, swept so bare
Of all beloved, and lost:
Yet deeper than this anguish lies
The fear that I, some day,
Shall then regain love's heritage,
When you have passed away.
ON THE HOME TRAIL
BY MAUDE DE COU
[HE LITTLE party had
been on the road for
three weeks. The herd
of Indian cattle, in-
tractable from the start,
had lost little of its
skittishness. A series
of night stampedes,
each followed by a laborious round-up,
had left the men benumbed with weari-
ness. Ten miles to the north lay the
Canadian river, its current swollen with
spring rains, its banks lined with miles
of impenetrable underbrush.
"Well, boys," said Hartley, "it just
can't be helped. We've got to hire some
Indians to get us across that river or we
will lose half the herd in the timber."
Jenkins demurred. "Where'll you git
help, I'd like to know ? You can't pick it
up jist anywheres. These Creek Injuns air
worse than nothin',. .They've got too much
nigger in 'em. I kin stand one alone;
but nigger an' Injun mixed is too much
f er me."
"Yes, I know," assented Hartley. "It's
a bad business at best; but we can't cross
that river without help. It will likely
swim the herd for a hundred yards, and if
they should get to milling we'll lose every
hoof of them. Then there's the timber. A
stampede in that brush would cost us a
weeks' work in a roundup."
No one contradicted him. Every man in
the crowd knew that he was right.
After a short consultation, Hartley
went back to a house where they had seen
a white woman, and where, with her as-
sistance as interpreter, he hired two young
Indians who were supposed to know the
country. The guides could not speak-
more than half a dozen words of English.
They were able, however, to follow Hart-
ley's directions, evidently understanding
many words which they could not use. Jim
Doty and Harris declared that "them In-
juns could talk if they would." The others
eyed the red men suspiciously, but to the
surprise of all, Jenkins defended them. In
fact, he rather cultivated their acquaint-
ance. He had found their one vulnerable
point. They were fond of tobacco. After
learning this, Jenkins invariably divided
with them. Occasionally other Indians
would appear and ride along silently for
an hour at a time, but they would at last
yield to the seduction of a "chaw." They
never spoke, but their expressive "ugh" as
they returned the plug, evinced the liveli-
est satisfaction. One of them was even
seen to smile.
About four o'clock Hartley began to
grow uneasy. He knew that they should
have been at the river by this time, and
that it would be awkward for them to
reach the ford too late. To cross after dark
was impossible, and to camp in the timber
was a riskv business. They traveled on
Slowly, hoping against hope 'that they
might find a break in the continuous
stretch of timber. Just at sunset they
reached the river, a torrent of swirlii.0
muddv water with almost perpendicular
banks. Hartley was desperate. He furi-
ously demanded of the Indians why they
had brought him to such a ford. They
shook their heads in vague deprecation.
To cross the ford was out of the ques-
tion, and as it was a half day's journey
back to the edge of the woods, the only
thing to do was to go into camp. The
guides signified their willingness to do a
double share of watch. The white men,
however, did not know whether it was to
atone for the blunder or to find a chance
for more mischief. There were no jokes
at the evening meal. Even Jenkins, tha
jovial, was silent, as the black coffee, corn
bread and bacon went the rounds. After
supper, he divided the last of his tobacco
with the guides, picketed his pony, and
started out to herd until midnight. Hart-
ley, Harris and Tobe retired to the wagon
to get a little sleep, preparatory to watch-
ing through the hardest part of the night,
from one o'clock until morning.
All went well during the first watch. At
one o'clock, Jenkins and his companions
returned to the wagon and roused the
others.
"Evervthing quiet so far," said Jim,
"but the cattle are uneasy. Don't let that
ON THE HOME TRAIL.
129
dog follow you, and keep an eye on them
-guides."
The herd, -which had been driven into
a spot somewhat clear from underbrush,
was nearly all lying down. The animals
seemed quiet, but now and then you could
hear a long snoring breath, .which meant
mischief. The two guides were awake,
seemingly intent on their duty. The
white men were almost asleep. Suddenly
the old bell-cow started pell-mell across
the clearing, half a dozen others after her.
The Indian guide was on hand to stop
the incipient stampede. For a moment
it seemed that the danger was over; then
there was a startled movement in another
part of the herd. Hartley and Harris
started toward the disturbance, but it was
too late. A roar as of thunder resounded
through the timber. Above the sound of
trampling hoofs rose the hoarse bawling
of the calves and their mothers. The herd-
ers, dodging behind trees, watched the
confused mass of crowding bodies and
toeing horns. The oround rocked as in
an earthquake. The forest trees seemed
moving as fast as the terrified cattle. It
was over in a moment; the herd disap-
peared in the timber, leaving the men
staring at each other in helpless anger.
There was not a hoof left except the
mooly cow, which had been tied up to
milk.
"Well, boys," said Hartley, "let's go to
bed. No use staying here to herd old
mooly."
The advice was sensible. For the first
time in weeks, every member of the party
went to bed; but their slumbers were un-
sound. Before daybreak the camp was
astir. When the sun rose, breakfast was
already over, the horses were saddled and
the men were ready to round up the cattle.
Jim stayed in camp to look after things
and to care for the herd as it should be
brought in. He was not much afraid, for
he knew that the Indians were cowards
in daylight; but he loaded his shot-gun
and stood it conspicuously by the wagon.
All morning the men brought in bunch
after bunch of cattle, until by noon they
had rounded up at least five hundred head.
They then concluded to cross the river and
push out on the onen prairie beyond.
At three o'clock, the herd was on the
prairie, where a count showed that thirty
head were still missing. Jenkins favored
abandoning the lost cattle and getting out
with what they had. It was fifteen miles
to Muskogee, and he was out of tobacco.
Hartley laughed. "No, Jenkins, you'll
have to suffer for af while longer. Tobe
and I will make one more effort. We'll go
back to where we hired the Indians, while
the rest of you stay here and herd."
Jenkins groaned, but succumbed.
"Come on, Tobe !" said Hartley, "we'll
get those cattle or we'll bring back a dead
Injun or two."
Eeluctantly, Tobe climbed into the sad-
dle. Both men were already wearied be-
yond measure. Fifteen miles lay between
them and the cabin where they had hired
the guides. When they reached there, the
sun was already low in the west. As Hart^
ley dismounted, he noticed on the back
porch a tub of fresh beef.
"Look ihere, Tobe," he laughed, "we've
found one of the thirty."
In response to Hartley's rap, the white
woman came to -the door.
"Where are the boys ?" he enquired con-
fidently. "I've come after the rest of the
cattle."
The woman turned pale under her sun-
burn.
"They're out huntin' fer 'em," she ans-
wered. "They h'aint bin here sence morn-
ing."
Hartley knew that she lied. Feeling
that not only the Indians, but the cattle,
were not far away, he turned away irreso-
lutely.
"Say, Hartley," said Tobe in a low
voice, "there's a house over east a ways
where a Kentuckian lives. I found it the
other day huntin' fer a spring. Let's
make him keep us over night."
Hartley assented. He felt tired enough
to go into camp for a week. They found
the Kentuckian to be a hospitable fellow,
ready enough to entertain strangers for
the mere pleasure of their company.
"Yes, siree," he declared with emphasis,
"if you'd a lived among these Injuns as
long as I have, you'd be glad enough to
see anybody ez would talk. Kain't they
talk English ? Of course they kin. Talk
ez good ez anybody when they want to.
But the pesky varmints 'ud rather set
aroun' an' grunt than to say anything like
white folks."
Tobe and Hartley found that Mrs. Jep-
son was as hospitable as her husband. She
130
OVERLAND MONTH LY.
was gaunt and unlovely. They knew that
she smoked a clav pipe and more than sus-
pected that she used snuff, but the supper
which she provided for them gained for
her the reverence that the ancient Greeks
might have paid to Vesta.
Jepson listened with interest to the
story of the Indian guides. There was no
doubt in his mind that the lost cattle wert
hidden somewhere near.
"We'll find 'em ia the mornin '," he as-
sured Hartley. "Them Injuns has hid 'em
in the bresh."
Jepson proved to be a prophet. The
cattle were found in a corral not a mile
away. Three Indian ponies were tied near
the corral, but not an Indian was in sight.
Hartley decided to take the cattle into
camp at once. They traversed without
further adventure the weary miles back
to the river, where Jepson joined them. He
had not thought it best to accompany
them on their drive lest he p~et into trou-
ble with his Indian neighbors.
The little bunch of cattle did not want
to cross the river. The ravs of the after-
noon sun turned the ford into a path of
dazzling light before which the timid
brutes, unable to see the further shore,
huddled together obstinately. At length
the three men, by dint of much shouting
and an unmerciful use of their heavy
poads, forced the poor creatures into the
water. Just as Hartley had feared, the
cattle began milling in the middle of the
stream. Frightened and dazed, the lead-
ers turned with the current; then the en-
tire bunch began swimming in a gradual-
ly narrowing circle, which drifted rapidly
down the stream. All that could be seen
above the turbid water was a revolving
group of horned heads that might have
been covered by a good-sized blanket. Oc-
casionally one of the terrified brutes would
climb almost out of the water on the
backs of the others. Then a head would
go under. The men rode fearlessly among
the cattle with yells and blows, trying to
break up the mill. If only one of the lead-
ers could be made to start for the opposite
bank, the others would follow. Jepson
rode clear of the struggling cattle, slipped
off his pony and struck it a smart blow
with his whip, starting it for the shore.
Then he swam around the herd until he
was directly below it. The poor brutes
looked at him piteously. The big Ken-
tuckian seized one powerful steer by tho
horns, at the same time striking him a
vicious blow on the jaw. The creature
made a lunge which Jepson narrowly es-
caped. That lunge broke the mill. The
steer, turned from his course, struck out
for the bank. JeDSon, still swimming
among the struggling cattle, turned one
after another toward the shore. Losing his
whip in the melee, he still fought on with
his wet sombrero. Tobe and Hartley
stuck valiantly on the flank. At last they
gained the shore. Two cows, weakened
by the long struggle until they were un-
able to make a landing, were swept on
down the stream. The rest soon stood
dripping on the bank one hundred yards
below the ford.
Hartley wrung Jepson's water-soaked
hand.
''Well, old fellow," he said, "we certain-
ly owe you the whole bunch. If it hadn't
been for you, thev would all be at the
bottom of the Canadian, and we might be
with them."
When thev finally reached the herd, a
careful count showed that one animal wi3
still missing. It was a fine red cow be-
longing to Jenkins. Then Hartley remem-
bered the beef.
"I thought we had them all," he said;
"but that must have been Jenkins's cow. '
Jenkins swore.
"Sich ongratitude," said he. "I was
the only man in camp that treated them
Injuns white, an' now here I am without
my red cow and fifteen miles from any ter-
baccer."
THE MRS. AND I VISIT PISA
BY WALT
ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGEAPHS.
"THE MRS."
E WEEE doing one of
the most eventful things
of our lives — gazing
out of the car windows
upon the Mediterra-
nean. It was evening,
and the sun was dip-
ping behind the watery
horizon. The sea was a blaze of light — a-
dream of colored crystal.
Our companions spoke Italian, which
was natural, but we heard them say Elba.
I said to the Mrs. : "We must be in sight
of the Island of Elba, where Napoleon
was exiled and from which he cleverly
escaped/'
The island is five miles from the coast
of Italy, and rising to our feet the view
obtained abroad the undulating sea was
that of a gradually sinking piece of land.
There was a young man in our com-
partment who was not an Italian — we
settled that point !
"But fwhat is he !' 'expostulated the
Mrs. with a frown.
"Well, he's not a German, 'cause he's
no beard. He looks and behaves like an
Englishman — watch' him !"
And Cockney-bred he was, for just then
he introduced himself. He had heard us
babbling in English. He said that he
was employed in Italy and was on his
way home to spend the Christmas holi-
days, and was extremely glad of our
company.
He turned toward the window.
"This is where the Cararra marble
quarries are located," he began. "It is,
as you know, the finest marble in the
world, and for centuries sculptors have
preferred it to all others. Most of the
great statues in Europe have been chisel-
ed cut of marble extracted from these
vast quarries. Do you see the men up
there !"
He was the first Englishman I had met
who could tell me something I did not
know.
Our guide-book had alluded to Cararra
marble whenever it expatiated on a statue
— but I didn't know where they got it — •
now I knew!
The workmen take their time in ex-
tracting Cararra from the loins of the
earth. They use no machinery of any
kind. Everything is done by hand. They
have never heard or read of Carnegie and
his wonderful steel accomplishments. Nor
do they understand that huge machines
can do a week's work in a day, at much
less cost. It is not plain to these Roman
heirs that anything can be gained by liv-
ing a week in a day.
But a sculptor never telegraphs for
132
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
Cararra marble and says : "Kush one block
Cararra. Quick — oh !"
"There she is — look!" exclaimed Mrs.
excitedly. I turned and saw a brown-
eyed maid of Italy washing waists, petti-
coats and handkerchiefs in the winding
brook by the embankment. In a moment
the train had carried us beyond the sight
qf her.
Oh oo, choo, choo went the little toy-
like engine along the moonlit banks of the
Mediterranean, and as tfcihe town clock
was tolling the bed-time hour of ten, we
choo-chooed into Pisa, the seat of the
famous leaning tower. As we tumbled
through the door into the waiting room,
an Italian shouted, "The Washington
Hotel ! Two doors from the station.
Hotel for Americans."
Says I to the Mrs. : "Hear that ! Wash-
ington Hotel two doors away! It sounds
like home. Let's investigate, but don't
look at him. Pretend you don't see him.
Then he won't want to collect a fee for
the information."
Down the street we ambled, and soon
saw the sign dangling out over the pave-
ment. We entered the door, and I tried
to tell the proprietor that we were from
America, and that I had once picked a
souvenir pebble from George Washing-
ton's grave at Mt. Vernon; that we had
a State and a city named after him, and
that 1 was pleased to learn he had christ-
ened his hotel in George's honor, but he
seemed never to have heard of George
Washington. My design was to impress
him with my importance, and have him
startle me, when We were ready to leave,
bv saying, "Great man! You doos owe
me no-ting."
In this, however, I was sorely disap-
pointed— but disappointments are rather
common with me.
It was at the Washington Hotel that
the waiter confided to me this very im-
portant fact as we were about to depart.
"You won't forget that I am the head
waiter !"
"No, indeed, I won't as long as I live —
I congratulate you on the promotion !"
Which all the more strained our relations.
The head waiter speaks the Queen's
English. He attends to the wants of Eng-
lish guests and he expects a tip — a great
big one.
This waiter had no doubt been forgot-
ten before, and he was not going to be
overlooked again by so amiable looking a
gentleman as I am, but through his im-
portunity such was his fate. He hadn't
done a thing for us, anyway, except pour
out the madam's tea on his own initiative,
which became cold before she was ready
to drink it.
I had demonstrated to my own satisfac-
tion that tipping wa= bad for my purse,
so I usually had the Mrs. settle for all
bills or I dropped the ready change on the
table and ran as if tardy for my train.
The Mrs. was by nature not a tipper.
I had read about the leaning tower of
Pisa, and copied a picture of it in my
Physical Geography. I was now within
half a mile of the original.
We ate breakfast, and set out to see the
wonder.
My geography teacher did not exagger-
TO MT. TAMALPAIS.
133
ate — the tower really leaned as much as
the old elm on our farm, under which I
took shelter so often during the summer
showers, and at which spot Miss Vernou
found me when she called to see papa
concerning my grades.
We scanned the tower, walked all
around it several times, and then felt an
ambition to climb it.
After climbing a long, dark and wind-
ing stairway, we got to the top — the Mrs.
was brea thins: heavily. There was a rail-
ing round the landin^ and we didn't get
giddy nor afraid. The wind was blow-
ing at the rate the Empire State Express
travels, and the Mrs. let on she could
feel the tower wiggle and shake. I asked
her to prove it, whereupon she got mad
— the first time in a month.
I stretched over the marble balustrade
on the leaning side, as I had a craving
to see the base of the tower.
Wihereupon the Mrs. gave an "Oh !" and
screamed so that the Italian workmen be-
low came rushing up to see what was
wrong.
I didn't succeed in spying the base. Af-
ter we descended I found that I could
stand on Mother Earth thirteen feet from
the base and still be protected from the
rain bir the leaning body.
As I was busily making the ground
experiments, the Mrs., standing at a dis-
tance, took occasion to remark that if
the tower should topple over while 1 was
in the shadow of its brow, why, she'd have
to go home alone.
But I answered: "No, you wouldn't —
only I'd be with the baggage."
The tickets admitting to the tower w ?rc
on sale a quarter of a mile away. In this
manner they control the traffic. To pre-
vent the tower's losing its equilibrium,
they allow only a certain number of
pounds to ascend to the . top at one time.
It's a sane precaution, although occasion-
ally inconvenient. As I weigh five pounds
less than Shakespeare and the Mrs. about
as much as Elizabeth Barrett Browning,
our combined weight being less than that
of James J. Hill, they did not bother to
weigh us before handing over the tickets.
The tower is comely and built of colored
marble, but other towers of Italy are come-
ly and composed of the same material.
The tower of Pisa owes its fame to the
fact that it leans. No one knows why it
leans. Some think the builders designed
the tower to lean, while others contend
that the foundation settled on the lean-
ing side. I have not yet made up my
mind how the tower came to lean, but I
have made up my mind that the leaning
tower of Pisa is worth going to see with-
out delay — who knows but that the next
earthquake may crumble it!
TO MT. TAMALPAIS
BY RUTH PRICE
THE sunset lights and deepening shadows fall.
A sky of burnished gold around is hung,
Gilding the veil of rainbow mist, wind-flung.
To thee the Western breezes softly call,
Singing their way through thy Sequoias tall ;
To thee the song of ocean deep is sung
By whispering voices in an unknown tongue ;
And every heart thy beauty doth enthrall.
Alone thou art above the rolling hill,
And mystery in every shadow lies.
Ah, silent goddess of this Western land,
Each swiftly passing day some heart grows still,
Some question asked of thee returns and dies,
But thou through changing years unchanged doth stand.
THE LOVE OF CHANCE
BY A. E. LONG
HEEE WERE various
reasons why Jerry Lull
was not popular in the
Cummins County settle-
ments. The primary
reason was that he was
not a sociable man, and
desired no large ac-
quaintance. He carried his tall, sinewy
form about the streets of Littleton with
his measured and tiger-like tread, and
deigned to speak to few who passed. His
heavy jaw was set like a vice. When he
spoke at all, he spoke through his clenched
teeth. He never laughed ; he never grinned
— he never even smiled, and from under
his heavy, dark brows his hard, gray eyes
sent only a stony stare. The single spur
with one broken point which was always
worn on his left heel, designated him as a
man who spent much of his time in the
saddle.
And this was one of the factors that
rendered him a suspicious character in
the eyes of the settlers. That a man
should be spending so much of his time
on horseback and vet have no definitely
known occupation was a matter to attract
attention. 'But the most noteworthy ob-
jection to Mr. Lull was that he made his
home with old Stub Jones, who was be-
lieved to have been formerly in league
with the Curly Grimes band of horse-
thieves of the Upper Sand Hill country.
And so it was that, whenever Lull came
to town, he was critically eyed by men on
tliu streets. Little groups scattered as he
approached, then closing in as he passed,
they watched his slowly receding figure,
while they commented on his slender form,
his raised shoulders, his slow, determined
gait, and his perpetually clenched teeth.
From the time of his first mysterious
arrival at Littleton, when he had uncere-
moniously kicked .three local bullies out
of the Prairie Star saloon, he was re-
garded as a man to be prated about at a
wholesome distance rather than openly dis-
puted. It was about this time, also, that
two of Littleton's professionals had in-
vited him to a poker game, the result oJ
which game was that the gamblers packed
their belongings next day and walked out
of town, leaving their board and laundry
bills unpaid.
Some there were who appreciated the
expurgation the town had undergone in
the losing of the gamblers and the silenc-
ing of the bullies; but others, more cyni-
cal in their calculations, declared that
the village had a substitute for these evili
in the mysterious personality of Jerrj
Lull.
Thus, with a shadowv suspicion lurk-
in or about him, did this young man of iron
reticence spend two months in the settle-
ments about Littleton.
It was Saturday afternoon in Decem-
ber. All day a silent snow had been fall-
ing in great flakes, and the ground was
uniformly covered to a depth of ten inches
In the Prairie Star saloon Mr. Lull w?
engaged in a quiet poker game with SOL
of Littleton's amateurs. A half-dozen pi
trons and loungers stood around the bar-
room stove, smoking and discussing tht
condition of the weather, when a sudde
swish of wind threw open the door of
building, and sent a white spray of snoi
over the bar. The proprietor stepped
the door to close it, and as he did so
announced a change of wind and a bli;
zard.
Some of the loungers stepped to the
window to observe the storm. Already
the street was in a gray whirl of snow so
that the blacksmith-shon across the way
could not be distinguished.
"'Spect it's goino- to be one of Ne-
braska's old-timers," carelessly remarked
the bar-keeper. The men spat on the
floor and passively agreed with him. There
were a few casual remarks about the pos-
sibility of any exposed person surviving
the storm, when one of the men suddenly
remembered that Eddie Starling had rid-
den cut of town not a half hour before.
"Eddie Starling of the Starling
Ranch?" excitedly asked one.
"Eleven miles against this storm!" ex-
THE L(WE OF CHANCE.
135
claimed another. "A twelve-year-old boy
on a pinto in this weather !"
Other excited remarks came in confu-
sion from the crowd. Some wondered
whether the boy could get back to town.
Others thought he might reach Patter-
son's ford in safety, where he would gain
the hospitable shelter of Richard Patter-
son's house. Some talked in an indecisive
way of a rescuing party, while still others
could do nothing more effective than to
rehearse accounts of similar storms and
accompanying fatalities.
It was at this moment that Lull, who
with his accustomed equanimity had been
quietly playing his hand, arose from his
chair. Without a word of apology for
thus abruptly nuitting the game, without
even a significant look from his cool coun-
tenance, he slowly shoved his roll of bills
and a handful of ivorv chips into his
pocket and turned away from the fable.
As he approached the door with his de-
cisive step, his raised shoulders and the
steady, clock-like swaying of his arms, the
little group of men stepped aside to let
him pass. They watched him as he left
the room, for this man's every movement
was of interest to Littleton.
A few minutes later he passed before
the window with a tight roll of woolen
blankets. As the men from the window
watched him leaning into the battling
blast, they conld only wonder and guess.
From the livery barn, a short time after,
he led his tall bay. The roll of blankets
was securelv strapped behind the saddle.
The horse pranced restlessly in the storm
as Lull's foot sought the stirrup. Then
with a bound and a plunge, the horse and
rider disappeared in the gray fury that
raged through the street.
The group of men in the saloon had all
but forgotten the predicament of Eddie
Starling in the intensity of their interest
in Lull's actions. What could have
prompted the man to ride away into this
storm, they wondered? Had he been the
loser in the game he was playing? Or
had he over-heard the conversation about
Eddie Starling's danger, and was he ^os-
sibly undertaking a rescue?
"Oh, bosh !" exclaimed one of the men,
"reckon that man would care if the whole
State of Nebraska froze to death to-night ?
Not much. Sentiment don't trouble him
as much as other people's horses do."
The laugh that followed this remark
produced such general optimism that all
were willing to believe that Eddie Star-
ling was safe under shelter at Patterson's
Ranch, and the matter was dismissed from
their minds.
At the Starling Ranch that evening
Jack Starling was pacing restlesslv back
and forth in the house and trying to con-
vince his wife that their son had not
started from Littleton before the coming
of the storm. But Mrs. Starling only
shuddered as the storm continued to wail
and to tear at the rattling shingles. With
a sudden thump the door opened, and
Jerry Lull, his left cheek frozen into a
white disc, walked in with a great bundle
wrapped in new blankets. He laid his
burden on the iloor.
"He'll be all right soon, I hope," ne
said as he unwrapped the blankets and re-
vealed the unconscious form of Eddie
Starling.
How the mother expressed her joy and
the father his gratitude is here of no con-
sequence. Let is suffice to say that the
boy was duly resuscitated with the hfc.i.p
of Mr. Lull, and that Lull would give
no account of the rescue, save that he
found the boy asleep and half buried in
a snow-drift some six or seven miles down
the trail.
Nothing could induce Mr. Lull to ac-
cept the hospitality offered by the Star-
lings; but when he was assured of the
boy's safety, he led his horse from the
barn, mounted, and turning in the direc-
tion of Stub Jones's ranch, gave the ani-
mal a loose rein, and rode away into tha
awful night.
The storv of this rescue soon spread
abroad and furnished the topic for much
conversation and gossin throughout the
settlement. Much wonder was expressed
at this unexpected conduct of Mr, Lull,
but more wonder still was expressed a
month later when it was found that the
Starling boy had actually succeeded in
making friends with this stoical man. For
when Eddie had again been able to be out
he had frequently ridden over to the Jones
ranch in the hope of becoming better ac-
quainted with his rescuer. It had been a
slow process, but gradually the two had
become friends. Often they spent the day
in a joint antelope hunt. As' Mr. Lull
was a clever hunter and a matchless
136
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
marksman, both with rifle and pistol, the
boy readily became his disciple.
Once or twice a week, through the win-
ter, they met and hunted together. But
often Lull was gone from the settlement
for a week at a time, and when he returned
he invariably came from the direction of
the Upper Sand Hill country.
Eddie soon learned not to question the
man about these trips, or in fact about
anything relating to his personal affairs.
Indeed, their friendship was a silent one.
Few words were spoken. Only now and
then, when they sat about a camp-fire did
this man of few words express fragments
of his stoical philosophy.
"There's only one thing in this world
to be feared, Eddie," he would say, "and
only one thing that's worth living for. The
thing to be feared is whisky. It won't
fight you fair, son; don't meddle with it.
It won't give you a fair chance. And that
brings me to the thins I was goin~ to say
— it's chance that's worth living for. Take
chances, boy. The life was never worth
living that never got into a pinch. If
you can't find chances, make some. But
take chances, boy, take big chances."
And Eddie would watch the light in the
grav e}res and wonder what big chance this
quiet man was taking, but he dared not
ask.
In January the snow had disappeared.
The Grimes band of horse-thieves began
to make occasional midnight expeditions
into the country. Without snow it was
impossible to track these men into the
wilderness of sand hills that lay to the
north, so the ranchmen merely mutterad
helplessly at an occasional loss of a small
bunch of horses.
Then the old suspicion of Mr. Lull's
secret alliance with the thieves was re-
vived, and his actions were watched more
closely than ever before. Jack Starling
was especially zealous in his efforts to find
convicting evidence against him, for al-
though he felt a debt of gratitude toward
the rescuer of his son, he could not ignore
the mysterious visits Mr. Lull was mak-
insr to the Sand Hill country.
"Tell you, Ann," said Starling one
evening at supper, "I'm convinced there's
something secret about that fellow Lull,
and I'll bet a horse he's in with that Sand
Hill gang."
"Why, Jack Starling!" exclaimed his
wife, "how can you talk that way when
you know how much Mr. Lull has done
for us ?" Jack stirred his coffee excitedly
and continued :
"His kind is apt to do anything for a
fellow, but that don't clear 'em of horse-
stealing. You remember the time
hung Handy Charley down at Patterson
Ford. Well, we never would have got th
rascal if he hadn't stopped like a fool
give back a ring to that Patterson girl b
fore crossing the river — and the who!
blamed country a-chasing him, too. Why,
if he had ever got across the river there,
we would never have seen him again. But
he did that (little fool thing, and we
swung him. And you mark my word, if
that Lull don't be the next to swing fro
Patterson's oak."
It was in the latter part of March whe:
a great raid was made on the Collins pas-
tures, and thirteen of the best horses we
run off. It was this that stirred the se
tiers to action. The pasture was closel;
searched for any sign that would furnis
a clue to the identity of the thieves. And
then it was that in the pasture, near the
spot where the horses had been rounded
up, the men found the broken spur of
Jerrv Lull.
When Jack Starling came home that
night he told his wife about the spur, and
about the plans of the Vigilantes for the
next day, but he carefully avoided letting
Eddie into the secret.
The next morning Mr. Starling had
ridden away somewhere before Eddie
arose. Tears came to Mrs. Starling's eves
as she refused to tell her son where his
father had gone. Eddie decided to ques-
tion her no more, but the mystery re-
mained unsolved.
In the afternoon the boy was sitting
in the barn door, just finishing the mend-
ing of his saddle, when Jim Wilson came
galloping by, his horse blowing with the
warmth of spiing.
"Hi there!" called Eddie, "what's up?"
Wilson halted and breathlessly ex-
plained : "We've got him cooped up in
Patterson's barn. I'm out rounding up
more men. Going to burn the barn to-
night."
"Who's cooped up ?" demanded the boy,
as he rose to his feet.
"The horse-thief, Jerry Lull— wt>
chased him as far as Patterson's crossing,
THE LOVE OF CHANCE.
137
shoot in' at him all the time — got him one
in the hip, I guess; anyhow, he rode into
Patterson's barn instead of tryin<v to ford
the river. River's up, you know — ice
a-floating down. Oh, he's a bad one. He's
found all the knot holes in the old barn
and he's taking a shot at every man as
shows a finger out of shelter. They're go-
ing to wait till night to sneak on him and
burn him out. Good-bve !"
Eddie would 'have staggered at this
news, but he thought of what Mr. Lull
had told him about a life of chance.
"Is my father there?" the boy gasped,
as Wilson was riding away.
"Jack Starling?" the rider called back.
"Sure; he's the man that shot him in the
hip."
The boy's head grew heavy and seemed
to swim in a warm, throbbing haze. But
again there flashed upon him the words
that had made such an impression on his
youthful mind : "The life was never worth
living that never got into a pinch !" He
straightened up, and assumed the steady,
decisive walk of Mr. Lull as he strode into
the barn. He would ride to Patterson's
crossing. If he could then cross the river
with Mr. Lull, he could hold the Vigi-
lantes back while the man he admired es-
caped.
Without a word to his mother, he led his
pinto from the barn. The wiry bronco
wheeled on his haunches as the lad leaped
to the saddle. A moment later a long
gray screw of dust was whirling down the
road after clattering hoofs. A little rise
of ground, a small vale, and the rider
swept out of sight of the Starling Ranch.
Nine miles away, at Patterson's Eanch,
the dull, heavy feeling that comes with a
critical situation weighed upon thirty
souls. The few shots that had come from
the cracks and knot-holes of the old barn
had spoken the determination of the be-
sieged, and little groups of armed men
were concealed behind a haystack and sev-
eral outbuildings. Within the barn was a
wounded and desperate man, and a man
whose life had been spent in tantalizing
every device of death.
The scene was one that might have
caused a Napoleon to pause and muse on
the significance of a human life. It was
one of those soundless spring days when
the very air seems awed into silence. Here
and there the grass was just peeping
green in response to the mighty pulse of
spring. The rolling prairie spread away
to the north, and the outline of the dis-
tant hills quivered in the warm sunshine.
From the river a hundred yards to the
south came the rasping sound of floating
ice, mingled with the gurgling of turbu-
lent water. Just where the trail dipped
down over the river bank to the ford stood
the ominous Patterson's oak, which had
been the scene of Handy Charley's chas-
tisement. Gray and old, with two crows
awkwardly flapping about its bare
branches, it stood awaiting its new victim.
The besiegers about the barn had grown,
dogged in their determination, and
were sullenly waiting for night, when they
would accomplish their incendiary pur-
pose. While they were waiting, some one
called attention to a rider on a spotted
pinto coming down the trail from the
north. Ordinarily such a sight would
have attracted little attention, but the
frantic speed with which the horse ap-
proached, caused all to stare.
The rider disappeared in a hollow, then
re-appeared over the summit of a hill,
dipped out of sight in a small ravine, and
descended to the level stretch of road in
the river valley. Now the rolling sputter
of hoofs could be heard as the pinto sent
a stream of dust behind him.
"Eddie Starling!" some one exclaimed.
"And bare-headed," joined others.
"Wonder what's up."
As the rider thundered past the hay-
stack, Jack Starling called out in the au-
thoritative tone of a parent: "Stop, son!
The barn — the barn ! There's danger !"
But twenty feet from the barn the boy
had halted the pinto in a whirl of dust,
had leaped to the ground and disappeared
within the barn.
Men stared stupidly at one another.
Some who were of the more explosive na-
ture announced their hopes to be seen in
the infernal regions if they had ever
known the like. Others who saw the new
situation in its complicated light, cursed
at their blighted hones of burning out
their victim. And others grouped about
Jack Starling for an explanation of his
son's conduct.
A few moments lifted the suspense. The
barn-door that faced the river swung open
with a bang, and Lull's big bay plunged
forth toward the ford.
138
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
Thirty rifles flew to thirty shoulders,
but not a shot was fired. In the saddle
were two riders, and the one in front
was the son of Jack Starling. Behind
him, the lover of chance was half-turn-
ing in the saddle, while his threatening
pistol held the crowd in check. The dan-
ger of his situation and the pain of his
wounded hip found no expression in the
changeless composure of his face. He was
taking one of the great chances that had
made all his life worth living. He did not
curse humanity, as is the custom of des-
peradoes at bay: he did not waste vain
pistol shots in empty space; and when the
horse bore him over the steep bank and
into the unruly stream, he did not split
the air with a shout of defiance.
The Vigilantes hastened to the river.
A shout of mingled fear and hatred went
up as they saw the gallant horse striving
to evade the crashing ice chunks, and
vainly battling against the resistless flood.
A heavy cake of ice struck the horse's
hip and half turned him round in the
swirling torrent, but still he toiled on
under his double load.
Jack Starling's face was pale with fear
as he thought of his son's danger. Then
a new thought brought determination to
his eye. If the horse were relieved of its
greater burden it might yet bear his son
to shore. Jack had great confidence in his
own marksmanship. He brought his rifle
to his shoulder — 'but as he did so, another
cake of ice struck the horse, and the boy
was thrown from the saddle and whirled
into the main current. A murmur of dis-
may mingled with curses on the shore;
then of a sudden, .ollowed the silence that
comes with amazement. The man whose
life was being sought, the man with tha
unwritten death warrant of border law
staring at him from the shore, had turned
his horse about in the stream, and faced
his enemies. With a blow from his pistol
he forced the unwilling brute back into
the "main current, and pursued the helpless
bov. In three frantic lunges the rider
had swung in front of the vast raft of
ice that was floatin-1- toward the drown-
ing youth. The men on the shore were
breathless when Lull's big hand clutched
the boy's shoulder. Then the silence gave
place to another murmur of distress as
the great sheet of ice struck the horso
and turned him on his side.
There was a sudden sinking of hor>o
and riders, followed bv a violent slanuin /
of waves against the ices' edge, and the
innocent boy, side by side with the iron-
clad character, who loved chance dear-.1!'
than life, was tided away into. the -"i-
kriowable sea of silence.
THE WESTERN CALL
BY MADELINE HU«HES PEI.TON
'T
,IS the Western air,
'Tis the Western "dare"
Of the Western sons of men
With their songs of cheer
And their scorn of fear,
That will call me back again.
'Tis the Western style
Of the Western smile,
And the wholesome hearts of -men;
'Tis the mountain ways
And the "golden days,"
That will win me back asah1.
EVEN "MY NAVAJOS" WERE PARTIES TO THE SCHEME.
KELLEY OF THE TRANS-MOJAVE
BY FELIX J. KOCH
ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS.
T WAS down in San
Diego that we heard fhe
story. Friend/ with
whom we'd crossed the
seas four years before,
when Friend considered
himself almost a Yan-
kee, had invited us in
to tea, and realizing that there is nothing
so refreshing to a gHobe-ftrotter as to
drop in beside a real human fireside, we
spent the evening telling stories which
smacked of the West, obviously.
The moonlight streamed in through the
open windows, and the balmy March
winds, off San Diego bay, brought with
them the odor of the climbing roses there
on the veranda.
There was something in the perfume
of those jack-roses that started the sug-
gestion, probably.
"'Ever run across the story of Phil Kel-
lev of the Trans-Mojave ?" our host asked,
for we were out in the golden West in
pursuit of what the newspaper man calls
"stories/'
We admitted we hadn't.
Friend's wife brought his old meer-
schaum, which always helped the mental
process, and we settled ourselves down to
listen.
"Kelley's just dead and gone, so you've
timeliness for vour storv. He was a char-
acter down here in the Southwest, for
many and many a day. Latterlv he was
a queer old fellow — always wore a soft,
slouch hat of grey, and loose-fitting suit
of dark color. Wherever he went, he car-
ried a staff, to what end no one evor
knew.
What added to his picturesqueness was
a long, swarthy beard, glasses with gold
THE STREET IN TUCSON WHERE THE INSTRUMENTS WERE BOUGHT.
rims of the olden style, and best of all, a
grin of the sort that makes the world run
smoothly.
"Where he'd come from, of course none
of us knew. You know the spirit of the
West.— to take a fellow at hundred cents
on the dollar and never inquire where the
metal now in him was coined!
"Well, it happened that one dav Kelley
took sick, and they sent him over the hills
to the county hospital.
"There in his delirium he told a most
remarkable tale.
"It seems that a few years before, he
had driven a stage on the Trans-Moiave
route out here into the West."
Every time Friend spoke of the West,
his eyes kindled and sought the jack-rose
trellis out there through the window.
/'One day, crossing the desert plains
without a passeng-er, and so taking his
ease, he stopped to chat with a prospector
who had pitched his tent on the mesas
and set up a claim monument ri^ht on
the edge of the trail.
"The man, too, had come out of the
nowhere, and with next to nothing. He
was, however, more buoyant than the rest
PHIL, KEL.LEY.
"TARNAL STRANGER, GIT OUT O' HERE! THIS YERE CLAIM WAS MINE, AND
PHIL KELLEY MURDERED ME!"
of the claim-hunters — seemed most confi-
dent of success.
"Somewheres over-seas he had obtained
Sa magnet that possessed peculiar powers.
Applied to any plant growing on the des-
ert, he could tell from what substance
that plant derived its nourishment, and
also what other rock was present down
below, by the degree of attraction made
on the magnet.
"We've all heard of the roots of trees
making their way through iron and the
like, and that seems to have been the prin-
ciple involved. The roots of the plants
took up minute particles of every metal
beneath them, whether this was soluble
ordinarily or no, and these this queer
touchstone revealed.
"Given an indication, therefore, that
there was gold in a given plot of soil, the
man had only to dig down to that layer
or strata, and if there were metal enough
to pay, to 'stake it out.'
"To cut a long story short, Kelley sold
out his share in the stage line and put the
money into the venture of finding the gold
with the touch-stone.
"From the trail, they came down into
the heart of ifche Mojave country and
staked it on the real desert. There, by and
bye, they were amassing a fortune.
KELLEY PEDDLING GLUE.
"THE YOUNG INDIANS WERE DRAWN UP INTO LINE.'
"What it took other prospectors hours
or even days of good, solid digging to de-
termine, these men could find out in a
minute or two.
"The Southwest, you know, is willing
enough to let every man attend to his own
business, but by and bye, Kelley went a
step beyond this State ; got uppish and
took to deriding, good-naturedly, those
not quite so successful as he.
"Then the other prospectors arranged
their revenge and reprisal. It would be
expensive, of course, but thev didn't care.
When you're at the work of finding go id
in the desert sands, and getting it for the
picking, you're not quite as particular
with money as some qf the rest of us are.
"There was a fellow in Tucson who had
just put in his store window a new inven-
tion of which some of them knew.
"They sent him an order for about
three dozen of these implements, and then
bided their time to wait. Meanwhile,
nowever, thev paid a visit to Uncle Sam's
neighboring Indian school, and having
laid their plan before the director, anl
used the soothing oil of graft, against
which scarce any of our officials are proof,
they had young Indies drawn up in-
to line and given certain directions.
"Then it was fixed that for a day Kelley
and his partner should be lured into Tuc-
son ;ind kept busy, until all arrangements
were completed. Arrived at the city, Kel-
ley and his friend soon found themselves
in the midst of the convi vials among whom
a prospector usually takes his place on
his visit to town — a crowd which is ever
ready to welcome him, since he stands for
all of the drinks.
"They fell to telling stories — desert
stories, always. By and bye the stories
began to take a ^eculiar turn. They were
dealing with the "Haunt" or the "Spirit"
of the desert.
"There is an old, old tradition on the
Moiave of a tenderfoot who started 1o
prospect, struck gold, and was murdered
bv jealous rivals, whose spirit is supposed
to ride the desert and to wail and cry in
no uncertain tones betimes.
"This story, in a dozen different ver-
sions, from a dozen different sources, was
repeated in the saloons.
"Then Kelley and his partner went
back to their camp.
"Meantime, however, the desert had
been over-run with young Indians, taken
PHIL. KELLEY OP THE TKANS-MOJAVE.
113
out in a wagon to Kelley's camp, and di-
verging from this afoot to his innumer-
able claim monuments.
"A day or two later a stranger came ouc
io Kelley's camp to look over what he hu,l
to sell.
"They went to one claim, believed to
be particularly rich.
'•'Idlv, as thev stood surveying it, the
newcomer raised a boulder off the cor-
ner monument.
'•'As he did so, a voice floated out on
the clear desert air, a gruff voice, pitchc-i
in no uncertain tones :
" ' Tarnal stranger, git out o' here !
This yere claim was mine, and Kel-
ley murdered me!'
'•'If you can imagine yourself out on
the lonesome, without another soul ex-
cepting Keiiey within sight or hearing,
and nothing but the sand and the stinga-
ree and the yuccas, and heard a voice like
that come from the very earth, you can
perhaps imagine the consternation of the
two lone men there on the desert.
'•'The one dropped the boulder, but the
voice had ceased.
"The stranger, however, had had
enough. So, too, had Kelley. They took
to their heels and fled into the desert.
"When once they stopped for want >f
breath they looked at each other for ,i-
planations.
"Neither could offer any attempt of
these. The newcomer, however, was bound
to admit he'd have nothing to do with
that claim.
"They went, then, to another.
" 'Sure, this ain't haunted too ?' the
prospective buyer asked, and without
awaiting the reply he moved a boulder •"•f
the monument.
"'Again the voice, the same gruff one:
" 'Get off of stolen ground, d n
you! I was murdered for this land, and
no one else '11 have it, I say!'
"That finished him. The tenderfoot
wouldn't buy any claims of the sort. Kel-
ley, too, wouldn't have anything more
to do with them himself.
"'Say, let's get back to Tucson quick
as we can,' was his only comment, as the
startled pair fled again from they knew
not what into the sand wastes.
"TAKE A FELLOW AT A HUNDRED CENTS ON THE DOLLAR AND NEVER
INQUIRE WHERE THE METAL NOW IN HIM WAS COINED!"
144
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
" Tm more'n willing,' his customs
answered, 'but we'd both best shut up
and not say why we're coming, or we'd
never be anything but laughed at.'
"Kelley saw the logic in the suggestion,
and acquiesced immediately.
'•'Pretty soon it was learned in Tucson
that Kellev had pulled stakes and wag
going back East. He'd got tired of the
desert and was homesick, it was said.
"The train had hardly pulled out of
Tucson before a dozen squatters had de-
camped on his property.
"Then they upset the claim monu-
ments and took out of each a little instru-
ment— an instrument with a cylinder and
a black funnel at one end.
"This they destroyed or else buried
deep in the sands.
"What was it? Whv, a graphophoue,
of course. Thev had had the Indian k'ds
hide these, one in each monument, all
wound up and the spring set, so's the
minute you'd move the boulder, you'd set
it off.
"The buyer of claims, of course, was
only <i dupe of their's, standing in with
the bunch."
"Wjhat became of Kelley?" we asked,
interested.
The meerschaum had gone out, and
Friend's little ones were 'rubbing their
eyes, bespeaking bedtime.
"Last I heard of him he was up in a
Northern city. Had one of those stands
for a glue that holds everything under the
sun. You've seen 'em — with the plates,
once-cracked, jointed together by chains.
Said he'd stick to this through thick and
thin, even if he couldn't stick to his first
love, the desert. Now comes the word
that he's gone."
IN THE CANYON'S DEPTHS
BY AD H. GIBSON
W
HEEE shadows linger, and the rays
Of sunlight fall in lace-like showers,
How pleasant in the canyon's depths
To loiter through the summer hours !
The dew still gems the ferns and flowers,
The limpid brooks, 'twixt mossy braes,
Along the depth of canyon sings
A symphony of lyric lays.
The mountains wild, in purple haze,
Frame in a rift of cloudless blue,
And walls, steep rising, interpose
A screen between us and the view.
We gather flowers damp with dew,
And weave them into bloomy sprays,
And perfect rest and soothing find
Within the canyon's sheltered ways.
AN EPISODE OF THE FLOAT LANDS
BY ERNESTINE WTN'CHE.LL
ESTEKDAY morning,
when Edith trudged
along the narrow levee-
path in the wake of her
younger sister and
small brother, her mind
had had no more sen-
iors occupation than
speculation as to the probable number of
yellow-jacket stings awaiting her defense-
less little legs.
The pathway to the school house was
worn deep in the fibrous peat sods of
which the levee was built. On the river
side the bank was soaked and compact to
the tide level ; on the land side the drying
of the sods left crevices and cavities in
which scores of mouse families and of
yellow-jacket colonies were happily es-
tablished.
Of the former the children saw little;
and the latter had given them no concern
till, one unfortunate day, a certain settle-
ment had been accidentally disturbed.
Since then those particular colonists had
fiercely resented every footfall in their
domain, and the last of the little proces-
sion of three never escaped punishment —
no matter how fast the pace set by the
leader.
This morning, by the system of turn
about which they observed, Edith's pink
sunbonnet bobbed serenely in the van,
while six-year-old Lester trailed along in
the rear, a disconsolate prospective sac-
rifice. His long overalls gave his chubby
legs complete protection and relieved his
sisters' minds of excessive sympathy with
his wordy distress, but to him there ap-
peared no consolation.
A summer morning is nowhere lovelier
than along the San Joaquin river, where
the regular tides ebb and flow, silent and
unfailing as the hours themselves; where,
between the high green walls of brown-
tasseled tules, the blue, rippled water
takes its quiet, devious way to the Pacific
—to be forever beaten back by salty
waves; where the treacherous float-land,
protected from the tides by earth embank-
ments lies level and fair, bearing upon
its false bosom the emerald glory of the
native grasses, and the wealth of the tilled
crops of men.
Again the child wondered why all the
books told only of the beauty of grass —
or rock-bordered streams ; of hills and val-
leys and mountains; of lofty trees. She
looked to the left across regular ranks
of dark potato vines breaking into white
and purple bloom, to the snowy field of
buckwheat where the bees were humming;
and to the right, beyond the tule tassels,
where white sails, filled with the fresh
west wind, carried the river schooners
gayly up the stream.
As she looked, charmed by the riot of'
exquisite color and form, Edith's mind
began to drift from one thought to an-
other. For a space it touched upon the
lessons awaiting her at the weather-gray
little school house. Scraps of Lester's
plaintive prophecies regarding yellow-
jackets held faint attention for an instant.
Then, in a flash, everything was forgotten
but a bit of conversation that she had
overheard that morning. After the in-
definite rumble of her father's voice had
come her mother's sympathetic answer:
"Yes, I know it's almost a vain hope. The
snow water is coming down so fast, and
this west wind keeps the tides in. Still
if the Chinamen make their appearance
in time —
Why hadn't she paid attention? A
sense of gravity impressed her now as it
had not then. And she remembered the
pale, anxious face of a neighbor as he said
to her father: "Four more tides before
the highest."
Into her troubled speculations broke a
frantic cry from Alice: "Edith! oh, run,
now rim!"
Instantly she grasped the details of
the familiar situation. At the other side
of that tall weed lay the stronghold of
the little yellow enemy. Scouts were out,
and the only hope lay in the swift run-
ning of the gauntlet. Tule wall on the
right and water-filled ditch on the left
made flank movement impossible. So—
a rushing of pink-topped brown pinafore !
146
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
Another — followed by active blue overalls,
skipping mightily to the tune of anticipa-
tory wails. Safely passed ! But no ! A
forte note signaled the discomfiture of the
rear guard!
Well out of range, the forces were re-
assembled, first aid to the injured admin-
istered in the form of kisses and condo-
lences, and then the single file march to
school resumed.
Looking from the riverside window soon
after the bell rang, Edith saw three boats
in mid-stream, all filled with Chinamen
and piled high with baggage and tools.
In each, four men at the oars forced the
craft rapidly up the river with the pe-
culiar, short, jerky stroke of the coolie.
Later, a gang of the coolies following
the levee path filed past the open door-
way— each immobile, yellow face crowned
by a bread splint hat like 'the lid of a
basket; each wiry form clothed in clean
blue cotton garments of varying shades.
Some bore across their shoulders thick
poles of bamboo weighted by covered bas-
ket or corded bale at either end; many
carried queer but familiar implements,
and all jogged rhythmically in a patient
trot. These, too, were bound up river,
and all were levee-builders.
The air was full of indefinite dis-
turbance and a vague sense of expect-
ancy.
Another file of blue-clad Chinamen
trotted by, and the teacher closed the
door.
Going home after school in the faint,
shimmering haze that veils all this moist
land under the afternoon sun, Edith tried
to sum up the impressions of the day.
Alice pranced lightly along in the lead.
Suddenly she stopped with a startled ex-
clamation, and Edith, following her in-
dication, saw where dry and cork-like sods
on the river side of the levee, and above
the usual high-tide level, had been shifted
from their places. She saw, too, where
Alice excitedly pointed it out, a stretch
of path that was wet.
Further on, they reconnoitered the am-
bush of the yellow- jackets. To their sur-
prise there wag no angry buzzing of fran-
tic little fighters, A few of the guards
fiew aimlessly about in the unwonted
silen'.'p. Cautiously the girls drew up,
while Lester, at a safe distance, waited
for dramatic developments.
At length, side by side, the pink sun-
bonnets peered over the edge of the levc
into the entrance of the nest. Not an in-
sect was stirring. Then they saw what
they had been too absorbed to notice be
fore, that here, for several feet, the levee
was wet nearly its whole width.
One of the high tides had come anc
gone! At its flood point it had tricklec
unresisted, into that stronghold so vali-
antly defended — so fatally pregnable !
Half-exultant, half-pitiful, the girl
walked on, and Lester, valorously kicking
at the spongy sods, followed with hands
in pockets his small bein^ intent upon the
control of a very young whistle, which
was now beautifullv piercing for a note or
two — now faintly sibilant, now but a
breath, in exasperating inconsequence.
"Here's more sods been moved!" Alice
exclaimed, her voice quivering. And a
bit further on: "See! the water almost
went over there!"
Tingling with apprehension, Edith
looked, half-fearfullv, over the rank po-
tato rows and on to the distant snow of
the buckwheat. Yes, they were still the
same. But beyond the buckwheat, active
pale blue figures, scattered in squads
four or five along the course of the rivei
were cutting peaty rectangles from tin
soil, draggin^ each from the oozy em-
brace of its neighbor, flinging it to the
levee top, fixing it in close contact with
others — every yellow-faced automaton d'j-
ing his anDointed part with the estab-
lished rhythm of Chinese concerted move-
ment.
At the early supper table, the conversa-
tion of the older members turned to the
impending flood. Would the levees hold?
Which sections might be too weak?
Which were too low?
"I think I can hold my fields," re-
marked the father. "By to-morrow nignt
all my levees will be made high enough
and strong enough."
"But there will be three high tides be-
fore then," Frank sufq-ested, his eyes on
his father's face. •
"I'm remembering," a little grimly.
"And the night tide is the highest. Well,
I will watch that weakest place myself,
with one gang. One of you bovs take
the north bend, and the other watch the
headgate. I'll tell Ah Tong to give each
of you four Chinamen."
AN EPISODE OF THE FLOAT LANDS.
147
"Everybody else is sending cut patrols,
too," said Percy, with a tremor of excite-
ment in his young voice. "Johnson thinks .
his land is all safe — and he's right, I
guess, but he's putting out three men.
And Wallace will have five."
"Wallace will need five/' decided Frank.
"His levees haven't been proved like
Johnson's. Those old levees have stood
for years and years — haven't thev, father ?
They are high and solid, too ; no loose sods
about them. Say, Percy, did you see that
new horse he brought back from the city
his last trip ?"
And so the conversation drifted from
floods and levees. But Edith's dreams
were haunted that night by visions of
green fields where leopard lilies bloomed,
changing to desolate tangles of dead tules
through which she struggled endlessly.
When the family met at breakfast the
older faces were weary and anxious. The
father's words were confident as ever, but
his eyes belied them. As he rose from
the table, he said, briefly, to Edith: "Go
to school in your boat to-day."-
They started early — before the turning
tide should have gained too much oppos-
ing force, and Alice noted, with a little
shriek of surprise, the new high- water
mark so far above the old one, a silty ring-
on every shininp- tule.
At the school house an excited group of
children exchanged news.
"Mr. Price's levee broke in two places
last night!"
"Oh, say! Lucy Jones says the water
comes clear up to their porch floor, and
they just stepped off the porch into the
boat, and then rowed right over the
levee when they went to look after things
in the night. Wasn't that funny?"
"'Johnny ! The water in on you yet ?"
"No." reluctantlv. Then, hopefully:
"But papa says he don't think he can keep
it out another tide."
In the irresponsible childish minds the
unformed terror of the day before had
reacted into keen appreciation of a novel
situation, delighted anticipation of new
sensations, and delicious apprehension of
impersonal dangers. There was little
study in the grrav school house that day,
for i.-ven the teacher was not calm. Often
she looked out on the placid, mercile-'S
river, and then over her father's carefully
tended fields. Sometimes the children
saw tears in the gentle eyes, now so sad
and heavv from the weary vigil of th3
night.
Out in the sunshine, all along the river'.s
tor r nous course, groups of imperturbable
Chinamen labored unceasingly, some
knee-deep in mud-thickened water; some
trampling in their work the lush gra^s
or the cultivated crons. Did they remem-
ber— did they ever know? — or, knowing
did they care, that fearfully near, be-
neath all that beautiful, smiling, glori-
ously prolific land lay awful depths of
dark, tideless water? Had they heard the
weird, true tales of futile efforts to fathom
those mysterious deeps?
Closely watched bv many apprehensive
eyes, the day tide rose to the fullest swell,
pulsed there for a seeminsr hour, then
gently, softly, slowly sank away.
There came no word of new breaks from
above nor from below. Most of the men
went home and to bed, to prepare for tha
strain of the coming night. And many
Chinamen, at word of thr foreman,
crawled into tiny tents for a few hours
of sleep.
With the ebbing tide full against thc;n
after school was out, Edith and Alica
had the ^ospect of hard work to reach
home. The current, brown now with the
drpina^e of inundated acres far up strea- i,
carried them many boat lengths below the
school house wharf before they could
unshin their oars, and all the impetus of
their four sturdv arms could give the light
skiff seemed lost in its force. Edith,
who was "stroke" ' and therefore captain
and pilot), bent all her strength to the
port oar a^ain and again, till, at length,
the little craft swung free of the current.
But even close to the bank the resistance
was disheartening, ana it took minutes
to pass each separate ~>oint.
Lester, lolling indolently in the stern
seat, o-ave himself up to renewed struggle
with his refractory whistle.
Fin all v. weary stroke b" wear- stroke,
the distance was measured off. Moist,
warm and rumpled, with burning palms
and aching shoulders, this tired boat-crew
welcomed the haven of the Cabled white
house, and the sympathetic ministrations
of mother. Never did water -feel so sooth-
ing! Never did simple supper taste so
good !
Alice went out to see her brooding ban-
148
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
tarn hen. Edith rested quietly on the flooi
at her mother's knees, and the shrilling
of Lester's cheerfully erratic whistle
floated in through the open window on the
soft, persistent west wind. The peaceful
quiet deepened as the day faded. The
sun grew greater and redder as it neared
the blue, undulating line of the Coast
Range. As the blue turned to black, the
flaming sun dropped suddenly, splashing
the whole western skir with a glorv of
scarlet and srold. The ^old slowlv changed
to canary — to o-reen — to palest amber;
the scarlet faded to pink — to pearl. Am-
ber and pearl blent and deepened to pur-
ple, and then the splendid summer con-
stellation sprang into place, blazing in vio-
let and red and gold like reincarnations
of the sunset.
Reluctantly Edith yielded herself to
sleep; drowsily she heard the voices of
her father and brothers answering the
mother's call to the hard night watch.
It seemed but a moment till, startled
into wakefulness by a ray of warm light
falling on her face, she sat up in bed and
stared out of the window. The morning
sunshine bathed the pasture lands, t^o
tule wall, the glimmering bits of river, and
all her sight could reach. Alice slept
tranquilly beside her. It was late — very-
late, and no one had called them. What
strange thing had changed even the home
routine?
Shivering with apprehension in the soft,
warmth of the sunshine, she dragged or
her clothes. With hurrying heart and
reluctant feet she went down the stairs
and along the hall to the open dining room
door. At the threshold she stopped, look-
ing wildlv from one white face to an-
other.
Words were held at sight of her, but her
mother put out a welcoming hand; with
a sob of nameless fear the child sprang
to the refuge that never fails.
"You may as well go on, Nathan," the
mother said, quietly. "They will hear
about it anyway."
Sadly and haltingly her father contin-
ued the storv of the night. During the
hours of the high tide, when a wave from
a passing steamboat might undo all the
work of vears, every mile of levee had been
patroled in sections bv souads of Chinese
under vigilant white men.
The tide — the highest and the last to
fear — had begun to fall. Men were lift-
ing glad faces in the moonlight, thankful
for the reprieve that was theirs — wheM
the night was cleft by a hoarse, strangle.'!
cry in the near distance which hushed
every voice.
Into the stillness rang a thin clamor in
Chinese, sweliino- to a Babel of sound as
the Chinamen gathered. Upon the up-
roar crashed Fred Johnson's stern word
of command and inquiry. For a moment
he contended for explanation; then impa-
tient with the unintelligible, frightened
jargon, he turned and ran as the franti,
gestures indicated — ran along the top of
his firm, dry levee, racing to meet — yet
dreading to see — the unknown horror that
lay before him. Scarcely had he gaina-1
strong headway than hie stopped with a
backward leap. One hundred yards of
tnrbid water rolled and tumbled where
the levee had stood !
He chilled in sudden comnrehension of
the coolies' tangled phrases. A patrolm
and a Chinaman had £one down with t:
levee. He shouted and shouted again, b
there came no answering cry from tl
flood.
Rapidly the men gathered on either si
of the fatal gap. Question and ans
were flung across the torrent. Boa
were brought, and desperate search a:
watch held every man till the tide we:
out at dawn.
With the day came confirmation of the
fear of the night. The treacherous float-
land, for the protection of whidh had been
lavished all this nerve-racking care and
body-breaking labor, had mysteriously
parted, plunging the heavy embankment
with the unsuspecting guard into the aw-
ful, iideless, unmeasured depths beneatL!
All day the faithful watchman lingered,
hoping against dread certainty. Clear-
cut against the blue and the green loomed
the black lagged ends of the broken levej,
and between, the silver crinkled tide flowed
in over Johnson's fertile fields.
All dav the terrified Chinese scattered
red naper invocations and petitions upoii
the waters. And at night the air was per-
fumed with propitiatory incense; while
upon the river's bosom countless sacred
tapers glowed and shimmered and twinkled
— weirdly star r in? the darkness.
THE SUCKERS' SATURDAY NIGHT
BY CHAKLTON LAWRENCE EDHOLM
ILL THE streets of new
San Francisco, the
stately City Beautiful
of our dreams, ever
know the piquancy
and the picturesque-
ness of Dear Old San
Francisco, the metropo-
lis of joyous memories ? I wonder ! Will it
know again the same eager current of
humanity swirling down the gaily-lighted
thoroughfares of a Saturday night? A
living river whose tributaries flowed from
teeming Europe, the two Americas, Af-
rica, mysterious Asia and the islands of
the seas.
Now that it is a thing of the past, this
brilliant street pageant, it seems as
though we had not actually seen it and
formed a part of it, but merely had read
in some fantastic Arabian tale and
dreamed of what we had read.
There was Market street, with its night-
Iv illuminations, fit welcome for visiting
prince or rajah; Kearny street, with its
pleasure-seeking crowd, gay spendthrift
youths, women gorgeously attired, of a
full-blown exuberant beauty like the
women of Titian or Veronese; Dupont
street, with its stalls and bazars, crammed
full of the wonders of the Orient, its ex-
quisite aestheticism, its unutterable
squalor, and finally that unique feature of
our tolerant, easy-going city, Grant ave-
nue, packed from curb to curb with the
auditors of yelling fakers and phrenolo-
gists, medicine-men and ministers of the
two-and-seventy jarring sects, reformers
and rascals, each more blatant than the
other.
Grant avenue was the Pisgah frorw
which one overlooked promised lands flow-
ing with milk and honev, to say nothing
of more invigorating fluids. You might
begin with the telescope man on the cor-
ner, who would show you for only five
cents the mountains of the moon, over
which, as is well known, runs the road to
El Dorado.
The ever-present whitejbearded kidney-
'•11 iv vender might claim your attention
next, and sell vou the Fountain of Youth
(with an alcoholic tang), done up in six-
bit bottles.
Next in line were the social reformers
of all shades, from the pale pink of the be-
liever in revolution by evolution, to the
blood-red advocate of confiscation and
extermination — and Utopia day after to-
morrow.
Further along was a little gray man
brandishing a greasy, tamch-bethumbed
Bible. He had the whine and drone and
twang of a backwoods preacher, and an
occasional outburst aerainst "damnable
doctrines" and "accursed licentious teach-
ings" sounded like a good old-fashioned
invective against Ingersoll or Tom Payne.
Not a bit of it! T. P. was his God and
Ingersoll his prophet, and the book against
which he hurled his fervid rhetoric — in
shockingly bad verse sometimes — was the
well-worn pocket Bible in his hands. The
morals of the Old Testament heroes horri-
fied him, and he dwelt lovingly on the
lapses of David and Solomon.
Although the Salvationists, the Volun-
teers, the Flying Scroll Evangelists, the
Holy Jumpers and an assortment of inde-
pendent seers and sages put the atheist
clearly in the minority, yet so perverse is
human nature, his tirade drew the biggest
crowd.
Even that spectacular prophet who
donned sack-cloth, let his forked blonde
beard grow to his chest, and his tawny
hair to his shoulders, like a wandering
fragment of Oberammergau, could not
compete with the iconoclast here, for was
not Grant avenue the hammer-swingers'
heaven !
Yes, indeed, here one could learn more
of the abuses that stoop the workers'
shoulders, slant back his brow and loosen
his jaw — especially the latter — than from
a whole year's subscription to any of the
popular ten cent muckazines.
My good friend, the doctor, a man who
had seen humanity from many angles in
his long life, strolled down the line with
me one Saturday night. He was im-
mensely pleased at the hundred voiced
oration, and claimed that there was no
other city in the country that kept a mid-
150
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
way in full blast all the year round. "Let's
hear what Mary's little lamb has to say."
A short, swarthy man, with a huge mus-
tache like that of a traditional Texas gun-
fighter, was roarinp- with the 7oice of a
bull. He clenched his big, hairy fists; he
swung his over-long arms; he paced back
and forth in the close circle of his audi-
tors; he hunched his back and fixed his
glittering eyes unon some by-stander &s
he hissed: "Who do you drudge for? Who
fattens on your sweat? Who sucks your
blood ? Who is your master ?" Then
suddenly jerking himself erect, he bel-
lowed his own answer : "THE CAPITAL-
IST."
"The Capitalist sprawls in a palatial of-
fice with a bottle of champagne at his el-
bow and a blondined stenographer on his
knee. He dictates a notice that you have
to go to work three hours longer because
he is going to lay off some of the hands.
"And you wage slaves stand for it!
"Next time the notice reads: 'Pay will
be cut ten per cent.' That gives him an-
other hundred thousand for his salary as
president of the company.
"And you wage-slaves stand for that,
too!
"Or mebbe you get sick of the job and
say you'll quit. What does your master
do ? He gits an injunction from his friend
the judge, making it a crime to strike. He
gits a raft of special police from his
friend the Chief of Police; he gits the
militia from his friend the Governor.
What else did he elect him for ?
"Oh. you wage slaves, when will you
git together, a class-conscious army, and
demand the full product of your toil?
Bullets and ballots, that's what you need
to exterminate the drones and seize what
belongs to you.
"'Bullets 'and ballots! That's it, bul-
lets and ballots! Exterminate them!
Exterminate I"
He was frothing at the mouth in the
frenzy of a zealot preaching a new re-
ligion.
"That fellow would make a fine sur-
geon," smiled the doctor, "the kind who
would decapitate a patient to cure a
toothache."
"Tt's a wonder they don't lock him
up."
"So they would in Germany, doubtless
in Prance, too, but in this country the
people can be trusted to judge for them-
selves. The phrase, 'Hot air,' was gold-
coined to put just such flimsy paper
money out of circulation, and it does the
trick, too."
The next circle was very small, anc
constantly disintegrating and forming
anew. It surrounded a tall, gaunt man,
with smooth-shaven face and. a monu-
mental forehead, from which the long
hair was brushed up and back. That
forehead was evidently his main asset,
and oh, the wonder of it, that from sucl
a lofty dome such a thin trickle oi
thought 'Should proceed, beaten into
froth of sweetish rhetoric. His lecture
was a mixture of sociology, vegetarian-
ism, new thought, physical culture, and
platitudes on the conduct of life, all de-
livered in academic phrases and leading
up to the inevitable collection and hawk-
ing of ten-cent booklets.
The honk-honk of an auto car further
down the line scattered his small audi-
ence before he had secured his full quota
of nickels. With bitter resignation he
watched his auditors flocking around the
big red machine that halted at the cor-
ner with a flurry of fluttering ensigns.
These banners were inscribed with letters
of gold, "Professor Tom Manley," while
a big sign on the sheet of plate glass
front bore the painted torso of a Hercule
bunched with muscles like a sack full
cobble-stones, and advertising "Viri-
cult."
Professor Tom stood erect on the bad
seat and allowed the mob to gaze upon his
vigorous beauty, a combination of the
ideals of Michelangelo, Buonarruoti anc
Charles Dana Gibson.
To the former he owed the chunks of
beefy muscle that stretched his clothes
in places ; to the latter his dress suit, new
and well -fitting, his half -acre of shirt-
front adorned with tiny pearl studs, hid
silk hat, this season's shape, and all the
little details of dress which mark the
man who assiduously strives to resemble
a gentleman.
The depression on the bridge of his
nose he owed to an artist in another line,
so he informed the crowd, his boiled-red
face glowing with pride. No other fist
than that of the redoubtable John L.
could have reached him in his young
days, he affirmed.
THE SUCKERS' SATURDAY NIGHT.
151
But now he had retired from the ring,
and it was his pleasant duty to give to
the world his precious secret of how to
get strong in eleven days, without too
much sacrifice of the pleasures of life,
without too much exertion, with absolute-
ly no detention from business; in fact,
the pallid youth who would only read
the dollar-fifty book of Prof. Tone's au-
thorship would be prepared to cope with
the masters in the arts of self-defense,
from Queensbury rules to Jiu Jitsu.
And then if any one should speak
rudely to the lady friend of the enlight-
ened one, what joy to annihilate him on
the spot! And so easy!
And the professor, waxing anecdotal,
described with great gusto an encounter
he had had with three sidewalk loafers in
Seattle, who had rasped the tender feel-
ings of his lady friends. Of course, he
defeated them single-handed in one
round, after which he treated them roy-
ally to drinks sufficient to drown all ill-
feeling. Great was his surprise, so he
averred, to read in the next morning'?'
paper in huge scare heads: "Professor
Tom Manley Puts Out Champion Spidei
Mike Grogan and His Two Trainers."
"I got the clippings right here in my
pocket — at least I think so. No, I left
'em in the office. You can see 'em any
time you wanta call — number one-steeri
Grant avenue."
"His book ought to be worth one-fifty
ao a literary curio," I said, "and I pre-
sume that a man like that is more com-
petent to write a get-strong-quick book
than a fiat-chested student in rubbers
and flannels."
"Yes, and by the same token, a prize
ox from the country fair is just the best
sort of an authority to write a text book
on stock raising," commented the doctor.
The next group was perfectly quiet, ex-
cept for two youths in the center who
were arguing in earnest tone. The crowd
hung on their words. This was the prob-
lem : If a mathematical point has no
dimensions, will an infinite number of
such points acquire dimensions? We left
before the question was argued to a
/» • 1 " O
finish.
"When a man has learned to fence with
such weapons," said the doctor, "there is
no problem he cannot solve by sheer
wo;-d-and-wind power."
"Yes; I have heard the immortality of
the sou'l, the theory of socialism, the
Panama Canal, the personality of our
President, and a score of other weighty
questions settled here — in several ways
every night."
"And still the sun rises in the same
place," replied the doctor. "Listen to
my colleague."
"... And this, gentlemen, is the
celebrated Asiatic turtle, called in China
tung-ki-see, which produces seventeen
thousand fertile eggs in a single season.
It is caught by the natives, killed in the
light of the moon by the Chinese physi-
cians, sun-dried, powdered and mixed in-
to a paste with the grease from the bones
of the Royal Bengal tiger. Hence we
call it tung-ti-kang, or turtle-tiger-
strength, for its use gives you the mar-
velous vigor of the one and the muscular
strength of the other."
The speaker held up to the light of the
gasoline torch a dried mud-turtle, and
turned it around and around for the gap-
ing crowd to admire. He was arrayed in
a fantastic combination of Oriental and
Occidental costumes, tricked out with
the emblems of Christianity and Bud-
dhism. He had a bold, handsome face,
keen eyes and the transparent complex-
ion of a boy, and the tones of his voice
were exceedingly magnetic and persua-
sive.
"Oh, men," he continued, "friends and
brothers (for the One God of many names
is father of us all), why will you continue
to surfer? Why forego the joys of life?
Why waste your money on quacks who
have neither the power nor desire to heal
you, when one box of Turtle-tiger-
strength will make you feel like new men
and six boxes will effect a permanent
cure?
"Thousands, yes, tens of thousands, of
afflicted ones have used my remedy, on
which we promise to refund the price if
it fails to relieve, and not one, I raise my
hand to heaven and swear by all I hold
sacred and holy, not one has got his money
back."
"I can believe that," chuckled the doc-
tor.
"Turtle-tiger-strength, dollar a box,
dollar a box while they last," barked his
companion, moving in pink kimona
among the crowd. "Tung-ti-kang, only
OvEliLAND MONTHLY.
one dollar, or six for five, and your
money back it' it fails to cure.''
"And this is the twentieth century !"
exclaimed the doctor. "Human nature
changes little! I had a call some time
ago from a class-mate who struck town
dead-broke. He had his diploma, for the
fellow was brainy, if he was a trifle un-
steady. Well for some reason he couldn't
work up a practice; people didn't trust
him, but he had a glib tongue, and when
he told me his hard luck story I could
not refuse him five dollars.
"Well, sir, he took that money, went
around to a paper-box factory and ordered
a thousand green boxes, one ounce size,
and shaped like a star. A small deposit
set them working on the order and se-
cured him three or foiir dozen boxes.
Then he went to a credit grocer and se-
cured a hundred pound sack of — well, I'Jl
tell you later.
"With the balance of my money he got
a shave, a hair-cut, a shine and a supper.
"After supper he went out on the cor-
ner, mounted a soap-box, proclaimed him-
self as Professor So-and-So, M. D., told
of a marvelous spring he had discovered
(Spring Valley, I guess), and when he
had his crowd, produced his little green
boxes.
"They contained a preparation of his
own (so he claimed), a whitish, translu-
cent, saline mineral, used in every part
of the world ; good for man and beast ; a
positive relief for diseases of many kinds.
When diluted with one quart of water and
snuffed up - the nostrils, it relieved ca-
tarrh and cleared and cleansed the mu-
cous membranes. As a gargle it curec
sore throat and prevented that drea
scourge, diphtheria, As a lotion it
lieved sore eyes. It was sure death
germs and prevented decay.
"None guaranteed unless done up
green starshaped boxes under the name
Astral Saline Crystals. One dollar
box, six for $5.
"Well, the public had often bought lit
tie red boxes and little white boxes, litt
round boxes and little square ones, bi
a green, star-shaped box was somethu
new. They kept him busy handing 01
Astral Saline Crystals for two or thre
evenings, after which time he suddenly
left town.
"The following week I received a stat
ment for a bill of goods from my grocer
He said the goods had been ordered fc
my use by my colleague, Professor Sc
and So, M. I). It read : 'To one sack roc
salt, $2.00.' "
BY ELIZABETH LAMBERT WOOD
HE FOUND the water
hole down in the gulch
where the sand was
loose and coarse. The
water was less than six
inches deep, and was
scarcely two feet across.
But she could see
that there was an undeniable seepage
here — a rare thing in this land of little
water — which the unclaimed bands of
burros of the surrounding mountains as
well as the wandering range cattle had
not been slow to appropriate for the cool-
ing of their thirsty throats.
Marian, the girl of nerves, shuddered
at sight of the alkaline, hoof-riled water,
and dismounting, smiled to herself to see
with what avidity her pony dipped in his
nose and drank with long, satisfying
quaffs.
Marian sat down on the clean sand
beside the pool, with the merciless sun of
mid-day beating down on her head, and
wondered whether she ought to wait till
the water settled again, or if the mere
sight of the pool, shared by man and
beast alike, was sufficient to quench her
thirst until she had 'covered the long
ride back to the settlement.
Over her head swung a hawk in wide
circles, and Marian raised her head
quickly at sight of his sweeping reflection
in the pool. Something in t le sight
seemed to stir her blood to action. Leap-
ing up, she threw the dragging reins back
over Spruce's head, trying to remember
as she did so each separate injunction
that the foreman of Double Box 0 had
given her about mounting. First she
carefully took into her left hand a goodly
tuft of staid Spruce's mane, and a short-
ened left rein; then lifting her left foot
to the big wooden stirrup and taking a
firm hold of the horn, she managed to
hoist herself up, but it was not without
an effort of considerable pains. The fore-
man, in teaching her, had told her to
swing up, carefully illustrating his words
as he spoke. But Marian did not exactly
swing up; in fact, she almost plun^.d
head foremost over the horse, but luckil}
managed to check herself in time.
And then with a deep sigh she settled
into the saddle, while Spruce, who had
been knowingly braced for the encounter,
quietly recovered himself and ambled off.
He shook his wise head protestingly when
Marian headed him toward the path lead-
ing diagonally up the hill. To her inex-
perienced eyes this cattle trail seemed to
promise the .shortest way home, but
Spruce knew better.
The figure — the horseman — who had
disturbed the hawk into flight, had been
watching the girl's unwonted exertion
with keenest interest and amusement from
the tor> of the ridge above the water hole.
"The new teacher, by gum — boots and
all!" he soliloquized.
Marian, all unconscious of any one's
proximitv, was riding up the sloping trail
all intent on her own thoughts. She was
a new arrival from Iowa — her old-fash-
ioned mother still called it I-o-way —
where, throughout Marian's life-time, she
had been pinched by the many petty
primpings and savings of her environ-
ment, until a single reading of Wister's
"Virginian" had sent her awakened blood
reeling through her veins with the sud-
den srjlendor of her vividly imagined pic-
ture of freedom on the Western ranges.
She had horrified her family into firm-
lipped silence by her sudden departure
alone and unacquainted into the wilds of
Arizona. On her arrival she had taken
the school examinations in Florence, and
having successfully passed them, was
lucky enough to receive a situation in
the sparsely settled cattle country in
the foot-hills of the Catalina Mountains.
The cowboys there — fine chivalrous
fellows all — could not help taking her
coming as a huge joke, especially her top
boots, short skirts and brand new revolver
end cartridge belt, in which she had in-
vested much of her scanty horde of pocket
money. How she would have blushed and
how her eyes would have blazed had she
overheard the round of chuckles at her
first attempts to mount sentle old Spruce,
154
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
all booted and spurred and armed as she
was !
To-day, Curl Ealey was a bit amazed
to see how lightly she sat the leather once
she was up. Touching his horse with the
spur, he struck across a sharp ravine to
cut off her direct path. "I wonder if she
thinks she's going home ?" he said to him-
self. "She's headed straight for Arai-
vapai, sixty miles away. We fellows will
have to rope her to keep her from stray-
ing."
Marian kept straight on, all uncon-
scious of the disturbance of her solitary
ride. She was wrapped in a reverie of de-
light. Before her, in the distance, moun-
tain range succeeded mountain range un-
til the last slipped awav into the dim and
hazy blue of the horizon. The yellow
grass beneath her pony's feet lay over the
multitude of surrounding slopes like a
sheet of mellow sunshine. Here and
there about her grew scattered live oak
trees — giant fellows — who scorned the
paltry growth of a short century or two,
they who had already felt the weight of
a half thousand years. Marian's heart
began to beat lightly once again in spite
of the heavv burden of her thirty-one
years. "After all," she thought to herself
with a sudden thrill, "I am young; I
don't care what the folks at home think.
Even the oaks feel young on a day like
this. I am young, young," and her
thought grew into a silent song, singing
in hti heart to the tune of the outpour-
ing ecstacy of a thrush who had appropri-
ated the topmost bough of the hackberry
near at hand, and was heralding to the
world that he also was young — voung. !
Life pulsed up and over Marian in a
rush of delight. The glorious air was
drawn down into her quivering nostrils
with wonderin^ exhilaration.
Back in Iowa nothing was wasted,
thought Marian now with contempt. Thia
lesson had been thumped into Marian's
revolting brain again and aerain through-
out her uninteresting life. Even every
scrap of potato paring must be cooked in-
to an evil-smelling mess for the chickens
and pigs, which they, the people, in the
natural course of .economy, would con-
sume again. The verv flesh of the ever-
present pork was flavored with table
scraps. Ugh !
Out here in this glorious, mountain-
scented country everything was waste —
waste of land, waste of rocks, and waste
of skv. Whole seas of acreage lay in
unused waste all about her, the very sight
of which sent dizzy sparkles of delight
dancing through Marian's rejuvenated
brain. She loved it all — she, the old maid
of the Iowa hamlet, was young again here
and could ride and dance and sing to
her heart's content, and as if in echo to
the thrush, she burst out into melody-
just a scrap of a Kevin's lullaby — but ro
Curl Raley, below her in the oak-lin
ravine, it had all the charm of an angel
song.
Suddenbr the voice ceased, and Rale;
glanced warily up the slope to where sh
sat, quite still,, on her horse. She
caught the stroke of his horse's hoof o
the granite strewn ground, and ha
checked her horse, fear for the insta
rampant in her heart. She might
awaiting a Mexican or Indian ruffian';
advent into her world — she knew n
what!
Raley could see her quite plainly no
with eves dilated, her hand on the pisto
which she had half-slipped from its ho
ster. She was not to be caught nappin
Then as Curl Raley swung into view o:
his horse, the defiant fire burned out
her eyes, leaving only the soft glow
their warm, brown depths. Her voi
was still trembling as she said choki
Iv: "For a minute 1 didn't know it w
you, Mr. Raley. I am just going home.
He said not a word to her about t
strange direction of her trail homewar
but fell in beside her, and after they hi
crossed a ravine or two, she was faci
the settlement again, and had not a s
picion that her horse's head had be
turned short about.
At last she said, giving a funny little
squint at the sun as if she were already
enough of a Westerner to tell the time
b- its elevation :
"Do you know what time it is?"
"Two o'clock!"
"Two o'clock ! Not really ! No wonder
I'm so hungry. I've got bacon, crackers,
cheese and tea for lunch. Won't you help
me eat it?" Her invitation was cordial; it
was reallv very nice to have the escort if
a resourceful man in this untried wilder-
ness.
Now, in a cattle country, a man seldoi
ie
THE EOMANCE OF TANKY GULCH.
155
or never takes a snack of lunch to eat at
noon, not even on a rodeo, when he may
be out from sun-up to long past dark. To-
day, Curl Kaley had only been out for
four hours, and had expected to have
nothing to eat for many hours more, but
suddenly he found himself seized with an
unconscionable appetite.
Before she expected his answer he was
off his horse and had come to her side
to lift her down.
But. she motioned him back with grave
earnestness. "I want to learn to do it
myself/' she said, very seriously, "be-
cause most of the time I will be riding
alone, and I want to learn how."
Eaiey privately doubted the truth of
this statement, but she was so honest in
her thirst for knowledge that he answered
her with all the seriousness he could com-
mand, and a minute later she was on the
ground without the help of a hand.
"Good !" he said spontaneously.
She was so thoroughly pleased with
herself that she smiled gaily up into his
face as she thanked him, and- on the in-
stant, he threw off his mask of dignity,
assumed in her presence, and laughed with
her with all the pleasure of a boy again.
He hurriedly gathered together bits of
dried cactus and oak twigs for a tiny
fire, while she arranged the tiny slices of
bacon on the wee broiler she produced
from the pocket of her saddle bag. The
little tea-pot was filled from his canteen,
and was soon sing-ing a merry little tune
of its own over the blaze, while the two,
the girl and the man, made the discovery
that they would both have to drink their
tea out of the only CUD in camp — Marian's
pretty silver folding one.
"I never thought of having company/'
Marian said rueiully, taking her sip,
which was by common consent to be tha
first, with her pretty red lips daintily
touching the cup's rim. "I'll have to send
to Tucson for another one."
"Not much!" protested Curl with em-
phasis. "I like this heaps better."
Fo7- an instant Marian made no answer.
Her mind had been carefully trained to
have a serious turn. She looked at him
doubtfully; then, with a frank, open
smile, she said:
"Well, do you know, I believe I do, too."
At the half-serious simplicity of her
words, Curl threw back his handsome
head and . laughed with genuine relish.
"I believe we'll agree all right," he said,
still laughing.
N'ever was there such bacon as these two
broiled that day over that little fire.
Marian was quite sure by the time the
meal was readv that there was not an-
other man who could coax a fir° into such
a steady, glowing blaze. And the crack-
ers! Who had ever before tasted such de-
licious crackers, flecked with tiny mites
of strawberry jam from a wee pot that
Marian fished out of her saddle bag. The
tea, sipped sociably together out of the
one cup, was nectar itself.
And then, all too soon, the tiny fire
died out, the crumbs lav scattered about
their feet, and the tea-pot stood empty
and cold.
Long after this the two sat silent. At
last, with a pang of surprise, Marian real-
ized that the sun was going down. To-
morrow there would be school again, and
all of its manifold duties. To-day held
youth and life and laughter; to-morrow
sober age and arduous tasks. In spite
of herself a shaded sadness fell over her,
veiling the beautiful deep softness of her
brown eyes.
Curl Ealey, watching her from the shel-
ter of his big hat, saw the weary lines
begin to settle over her face, where lie
saw with pity that they had long before
this traced a nath of patient protest
against this life of unmated ' loneliness
with all its pinching economy, which only
a woman can know. Sitting there, *ie
no longer thought of lathing at her com-
ing into this unsettled part of the coun-
try— he understood.
Hadn't he himself known much of this
same feeling that he saw she was now
suffering, in those days when as a boy he
lived in Chicago? When he was fourteen,
not half her age, perhaps, he had struck
out into the world for himself. As he sat
there his only wonder was that she had
been so patient, that vears ago she had
not taken up the shears and snipped the
lines holding her to the old prosaic life
she instinctively loathed. He knew what
she must have endured — the lines of her
face told that — stifling her natural long-
ing for big things, for freedom. And
he also saw that, having suffered so long,
now that the fragrance of freedom was
fairly in her nostrils, she still had mo-
156
OVERLAID MONTHLY.
ments when she doubted the truth, the
beautiful truth of it all.
As he lay there, relaxed full length on
the sand, he saw a vision forminer — a vis-
ion of liberty for both. It was so near
that he could almost touch it. He felt
an unaccountable intuition that all the
forlorn loneliness of his hard life was
nearing its end. It was for this that he
had been laboring and hoarding for
years. He saw now that never before had
he been fully ready to appreciate life and
the mystery of its wonders. He wished
he might tell her, might lift the sad, pa-
tient lines from her face ; but not yet, not
yet! That glorious moment in all its
fullness would cuuie.
He stirred restlessly, sat up, and then
suddenly got on his feet. She started
violently as if roused from absorbing
thoughts.
"Come," he said, erently, reaching down
a helning hand to her. It was a strong,
well-formed hand, deeply tanned with
wind and sun.
Laying her slim hand confidinglv in his
warm clasp, she allowed him to lift her
to her feet where she stood silent, her
eyes still abstracted, while he brought
the horses. There was no word of pro-
test now when he lifted her to her saddle.
She was learning a lesson of a different
kind now — a lesson of widely different
import. A gentle flushing of pink stole
up into her cheeks as her eyes fell on his
face-; — the strong, noble face of the kind
of men she had dreamed about and was
now to know in her dailv life.
AUGUST
BY
CLYDE EDWIN TUCK
THE dust-drooped bushes stand beside the road
That winds along the meadows brown and dry;
While in the brook's bed where but lately flowed
A wildly gushing stream, the butterfly,
With gorgeous wings half-ope'd, rests there serene
Upon the moist, dark ground in nook5; of shade,
Near where some sunbeam frescoes mosses green,
And rainbows formed where once leaped the cascade.
The weary hours plod by with leaden feet
While nature slumbers 'neath a wizard's spell;
The golden panniered bees seek their retreat:
The birds are mute, far in the stilly dell
Where sylvan sounds and scents are strangely faint;
The silk-soft hollyhocks, moon-tinted, bloom.
And 'neath the trees where crows make their complaint,
The asters stand with tender eyes of gloom.
Yon field of golden tasseled corn, where strays
No fresh'ning breeze among their withering blades,
Stretch out beneath the sun's fierce, torrid rays :
Now comes a sweet, cool breath from out the glades
Just when each gasping plant seems death to woo;
A shadow spreads its wings and o'er the plain
And hill all nature hastens to renew
Her green robes in the life-restoring rain.
A PART OP THE BAND THAT WAS SOLD TO THE "WILD WEST SHOW" IN 1903.
THE PASSING OF THE BUFFALO
BY JASO^ J. JO^ES
1 LLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS.
HE HISTORY of the
American bison or buf-
falo has been written
and re-written many
times over by able writ-
ers, until to-day the
reading public is thor-
oughly familiar with
each and every trait and characteristic of
that lordly animal.
At the same time, the singularity of
its habits, its massive frame and the pio-
turesqueness of its physical appearance
ever tend to increase our admiration and
to arouse an eagerness within us to know
more, still more, regarding the noblest
beast that is indigenous to American soil.
Had our fore-fathers taken some pre-
cautions to protect the buffalo, instead of
lending their aid to the ruthless slaugh-
ter, even to the very verge of complete
extermination, we would not of necessity
to-day be compelled to provide recruiting
stations in the wav of parks and reserves
to insure the preservation of at least a
remnant.
The accounts of the earlier explorers of
North America, especially those of the
Spaniards, tend to prove that the buffalo
formerly ranged over the greater part of
the country lying between the Atlantic
seaboard and the Mississippi Eiver. But
civilization gradually pushed them west-
ward, encroaching more and still more
upon their domain, until at the beginning
of the nineteenth century no buffalo were
to be found east of the Mississippi. They
then took to the great plains, ranging
westward to the Rocky Mountains and
from Texas northward into central Can-
158
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
A PORTION OP THE PARK HERD CALMLY
BROWSING UPON SHORT SAGE-BRUSH
AND THE SCANT GRASS UPON ONE OF
THE BARREN HEIGHTS OVERLOOKING
THE SILVERY YELLOWSTONE.
ada. Over this vast pasture, as late as the
seventies, they roamed in such numbers
that the enumeration of them seems in-
credible.
The Indians, also, were crowded west-
ward by their white enemies, and owing
to their nomadic mode of living, they
naturally followed the big game, realiz-
ing that it afforded them the easier means
of gaining a livelihood. But the Indian
rarely, if ever, maliciously destroyed the
game until he was taught by the white
man. When he wanted meat, he killed
a buffalo, his squaw dressed it and pre-
pared the robe for future use. The red
man in the early days never troubled him-
self about where the winter's provisions
for his tribe were to be secured. Though
it often harmened that the lazy, ever-neg-
ligent bucks would let the opportune time
slip bv. when they would be compelled
to make long journeys in severe wintry
weather to procure a supply of food for
their lialf-famished people. The meat
appeased their hunger, the great, shaggy
robes shielded their persons from the most
intense cold; therefore, the buffalo was
doubly dear and valuable to them. Tn
aftei vears, when the whites began to en-
croach upon the Indian's most precioi
hunting grounds and to wantonly destrc
his most precious game, the latter look-
upon it with awe and suspicion and ange
was at once kindled in his heart. We mu-
agree with the red man to-day when
says: "The ' white man has 'taken 01
hunting grounds and destroyed
game."
When we realize what enormous her
of buffalo roamed the plains even as lat
as 1875. it is a mystery to us to know hoi
they could have been so completely e
terminated in less than one short decad
In 1868 began the wholesale slaughter
of this animal, and from the above date
until 1881, or a period of thirteen
a ceaseless war was waged against thes
helpless brute?. And to what purpose!
When the Kansas Pacific Railroad hac
been extended far enough west to read
the buffalo count ry, the carbon works oi
St. Louis and other places began payii
$8 per ton for all the bones that migl
be shipped to them. The natural cons
quence was that the hide, horn and bone
seekers formed brigades in partnershij
against these vast herds. The hide anr
horn seekers were naturally very welcome
fore-runners of the bone seekers. In su-:h
numbers did they slaughter the buffalo
that in particular localities, it is said, on?
might have walked all day upon the car-
casses without stepping upon the ground.
Kansas alone, in the thirteen years of
extermination, received $2,500,000 for
bones. It required eight, carcasses to make
a ton of bones, so it would have required
32,000,000 buffalo skeletons to bring the
above sum of money.
Win. F. Cody (Buffalo Bill) was the
expert buffalo hunter. But he never care-
lessly massacred them, except in rare
cases, and then to have a little fun only,
or to show his skill as an expert. He was
employed as hunter by the construction'
company of the Kansas Pacific in 1868,
and in eighteen months' time killed 5,000
buffalo, which were consumed by th<3
1,200 track layers.
The great herds often delayed trains
for several hours at a time. Colonel Henry
Inman, author of "The Old Santa Fe
Trail," gives an account of the West-
bound passenger on the Kansas Pacific
being delayed from 9 a. m. till 5 o'clock in
the evening by the passage of one continu-
THE PASSING OF THE BUFFALO.
151)
cms herd. To the north, west and south,
as far as the vision could scan, surged a
•solid black mass of affrighted buffalo in
their irresistible course.
A party of horsemen rode for three
consecutive days through one continuous
herd, Avhich must have numbered millions.
At first appearance, these vast herds
grazing on the plains seemed to be oria
intermingled mass, but on a closer in-
spection the whole was found to be com-
posed of hundreds of lesser herds. Each
of these miniature groups were guarded
bTT sentinels, which were composed of the
chainpion bulls, while the cows and calves '
grazed toward the center. The little
yellow calves looked very awkward, yet
thev were agile as lambs and almost as
playful. Nothing was more dangerous
than a buffalo cow with a young calf. She
would fight with the energy of despair
when her young were endangered.
These immense herds were often the
best objects of sport for the tourists, who
were out most generally for the mere nov-
elty of the trip. In many places on either
side of the railway track, the ground was
lined with the carcasses of buffalo which
had served as mere targets for the folly
of the pleasure seekers.
The buffalo were animals of migratory
habits. Very seldom were .they to be
found on the barren plains in winter,
yet in some favored places in the moun-
tain meadows, where food and shelter
coujd be had, small herds were often
found in the winter season. But the
regular winter rendezvous of this animal
was far to the south, on the sunny pas-
tures of Texas and Indian Territory.
On the appearance of the first verdure
of spring thev would begin their annual
journey nortliward, where, on the wids-
extencled plains, they would spend the
loner, bright summer days in perfect peace
and contentment until the cold blasts
from the north drove them south again.
Some Indians believed that all the
buffalo that went north each summer per-
ished there, and that just as many more
came from the south the next year. Sd-
tanta, chief of the Comanches, claimed
that all of the buffalo came out of a big
cave in Texas, and that none of the vast
multitudes which went north in the
spring returned in the fall, but all per-
ished that year, and that year after ye-ir
the magic cave would hatch out just as
many more to meet the same fate as they
journeyed northward.
But just how the old chief accounted
for the scarcity of the buffalo in after
years we are not prepared to say. But he
must have surmised that the ever-increas-
ing whites had molested his never-failing
incubator in the south-land.
Stampeded buffalo were very danger-
ous. They ran with a mad fury that w is
simply irresistible. If hunting parties
or emigrants were caught within the
course of one of these wild onsets on the
open prairie it meant certain death to
them., except that something could be done
immediately to divert the terrible mo-
mentum of the affrighted mass. When no
other means of escape were possible, hunt-
ers would seek the weakest point in the
front rank and shoot down the oncoming
buffalo, which were quickly used as the
only means of protection. Often-times
these great stampedes lasted two or three
days, and many thousands of buffalo
were killed in the awful jams in their
panic careering over the broken country.
Wihen the Kansas Pacific was completed
THE MONARCH OF THE YELLOWSTONE
PARK HERD EATING HAY. PHOTOGRAPH
WAS TAKEN BY CREEPING UP TO THE
HIGH FENCE WHILE THE BIG BULL WAS
BUSILY ENGAGED.
THE PASSING OF THE BUFFALO.
161
it cut the buffalo country in twain and
divided the many millions into two enor-
mous herds — the northern and the south-
ern. The southern herd shrunk the
faster under the blood-thirsty array of
pelt, horn and bone • seekers, because of
the more openness of the country over
which it ranged, and by the close of the
year 1878 scarcely a land-mark remained
to show that its countless numbers ever
existed. Yet the northern herd survived
the southern but five years, being com-
pletely destroyed in 1883. An occasional
small band was encountered some years
after this in the wild, broken country,
whither they had taken refuge, of neces-
sity adapting themselves to the habits of
their more wary cousins. But before the
close of the eighties, some of these were
slaughtered and the remainder taken into
custody.
But, alas, the buffalo are gone from
the great plains of the West. No more
will their huge frames dot the unbroken
horizon. No more will they beat the
deep-trodden paths to a welcome nu-
cleus, the clear running mountain stream.
Could the old trappers and hunters
again wander over the once rich lands of
the buffalo as they traversed them thirty
years ago, they would sigh to find that
welcome beast of the plains no more. Their
hearts would ache when they realized the
desolation that has been brought about
in that short period of time.
No more could they defy the wintry
blasts with the great, shaggv robes as jf
old. No more would their tents be stocked
with jerked buffalo to feed them and their
companions until the long-looked-for
spring appeared.
And again,' let us glance briefly at the
red man's position to-day. He stands
alone. Though he has donned to some
extent the garb of the white man, yet be
is, properly speaking, the same savage
to-day as when our ancestors first knj>v
him. He has been driven from place 10
place, or wherever the white man has
seen fit to send him. He is to-day
scourged to a narrow strip of country and
compelled to live there by a power which
he knows he dares not resist. Within his
own limited borders the game of every
description has become almost extinct.
By necessity he is compelled to make long
journeys in pursuit of provisions. He
remembers, too, the many pints of whis-
key obtained with buffalo robes in days
gone by. Beautiful robes ! dressed and
nicely ornamented, which had cost the
squaws many hours of labor, were bar-
tered for one pint of whisky each, four-
fifths of which was water, but no matter,
just so it had the taste of "fire-water."
Whisky being such a powerful incentive,
each robe the Indian possessed generally
received the very significant name of "a
pint of whisky/'
There are at the present time about
1,800 buffalo in the United States. They
of course, are to be found only in re-
serves, parks and private herds. The
largest of these, perhaps, is the Pablo-
Allard herd on the Flathead "Reservation
in Northwestern Montana. It numbers
over 400 head and they are as nearly in
their native state as any in our country
to-day. In 1892 this herd numbered only
75. They would perhaps exceed a thou-
sand at this time had not several been
sold from time to time. Four years ago
some fifteen or twenty head were sold to
the "Wild West Show," and two vears ago
fifty were shipped to the "101" Ean;;h
in Indian Territory. This herd ranges .in
the foothills within the reservation. The
owners value them at thousands of dol-
lars. They are closely guarded to pre-
vent their straying too far away. It is
a pretty sight in summer to watch them
from a distance, calmly grazing upon the
verdant slopes. Yet one does not da -e
venture close to them, except he be well
protected, for they will make an attack
without giving him warning. A number
of them were exhibited at the Missoula
County fair five years ago, but they were
very hard to manage. One of the big
bulls broke through every enclosure and
ran back to the reservation, a distance of
twenty-five miles, against all resistance
or obstacles.
There are also between thirty and forty
head of "cataloes" or half-breed buffab
in the herd. The cross is between the
native bull and the buffalo cow. "Buffalo"
Jones (Col. C. J. Jones), recommends
this hybrid form, claiming that the
"catalo" is harder, more able to stand the
blizzards, and digs and roots in the deep
snows for sustenance where ordinary cat-
tle would perish. Besides, its robe rep-
resents more value than a common steer,
162
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
being far superior in quality even to the
genuine buffalo robe. The hair is not
so long, much finer, and the hide not so
thick and stiff. They are large in frame
if well bred, the horns being perceptibly
longer, but of about the same curvature
and color — jet black — very sharp at the
point, and thick at the base.
The herd in the Yellowstone National
Park numbered 107 old ones and five
calves last summer. They graze over a
five thousand acre pasture which is en-
closed by an eight-foot fence of extra-
heavy wire netting. This pasture is in
the northwest portion of the park, near
Mammoth Hot Springs. A new pasture
is being constructed near Soda Buttes,
some miles east of the present one, and
the herd will be divided. The land with-
in these pastures is broken and barren,
and therefore does not produce much
grass. "Buffalo" Jones is the tender of
the Park herd, it being his duty to feed
them when necessary, and it is necessary
even in summer, for the pasture becomes
very dry and destitute of feed at times.
Another duty which devolves upon him
is to protect the young buffalo from the
gray wolves and mountain lions, which
have become quite numerous, owing to the
protection of game in general around the
Park.
The United States Government has
heretofore offered to buy all the buffalo
extant, but without success.
For the sake of preserving at least a
remnant of the once familiar object of
the plains, and for the object lesson ij
would teach posterity, we believe tha
our Government should own and protec
all the buffalo now living.
Those now owned by private individual
—which Constitute possibly five-sixths o
all in exigence, are most likely, in year,
to come, t<_ fall into the possession of care
less hands, "hose who would let the las
vestige of th/m be annihilated.
Our public domain is extensive enougl
and will be for years to come for th<
buffalo to run at large without molesta-
tion. The grazing lands of our Westen
States, which our stock-raising public
have so completely appropriated to them-
selves, might, in part at least, be used bj
the Government, and protected by each
and all of us, as a place of both refuge
and recruit for the noblest animal that
is native to our country.
Nothing could be more beautiful than
to have the numerous herds once airain
grace the verdant slopes of our lofty
mountain ranges in spring time. To pro-
tect the buffalo against all encroachments
is a duty that should pervade the mind of
every American citizen. They could
never be so numerous as they once were,
yet the increase in one short decade would
be almost incredible, if properly fos-
tered.
"Preserve inviolate the scenes of days
agone, our nation prays;
Yet nothing is sadder than past joys re-
membered in unhappy days"
THE RED-HEADED
TWINS OF DOS
PALOS
ILLUSTRATED BY W. R. DAVENPORT.
HIS HERE thing of
bein' a twin ain't all
it's cracked up to be,
specul if each durned
twin is as like t'other
as a lookin' glass re-
flectun of himself.
My brother Jim's as
like me as I'm like myself, freckles, green
eyes an' all, an' his head ain't none lighter
an' none darker. They is no other twins
in Dos Palos scept me an' Jim. When
we was kids, my mother used to say to
the one what was handiest, "If you're
Jim, tell Bill I want him, but if you're
Bill, come here — -I want you." Sure pop,
it was alwus me she wanted, 'cause Jim
sorter petted himself round the ole lady.
Well, anyway, atween us the ole lady
didn't have no tapioca, for when we savied
why we was alwus the other feller.
If you never yet met Jim you'll know
him soon as you meet him; that's pro-
vidin' you don't give him the glad liand
thinkin' he's me. The only thing what's
diffrunt about us is our ways an' habits,
an' so forth. Jim's as quick to spend
money as I'm willin' to save it, an' Jim's
as fall of raisin' the devil as I'm fond of
peace an' the mountains, an' Jim's as fond
of borrowin' as he is of spendin', an' him
havin' a lot of family pride an' affecshun,
whv, it's just natural like as he'd come
furst to me for a loan. "Just a tenner;
if you can't spare it, a five spot '11 do," he
begins easy like, an' then winds up willin'
to take any ole durned thing I kin give
him, even if it ain't no better 'n fifty
cents or a quarter.
Once down to Firebaugh he got playin'
sorter heavy at faro bank, an' bein' short
of funds an' me far away, he borrers of
a man down there by the name of Peters,
an' then tells Peters, durn his soul, to
ride out to the Double X ranch and get it
back. Jim goes range ridin' the day that
there Peters was to visit, an' me, innu-
cunt as a year] in', meets this here Peters
kinder welcum like at the gate, never a-
seen him afore, an' says, "Howdy do,
stranger, what kin I do for you ?"
"Stranger !" he growls, sorter down in
his throttle an' squintin' up his eyes like
he didn't like my looks. "Stranger, hey?
It wasn't stranger down to Firebaugh
when you borrered that ten spot of me,
was it, you freckled-faced, green-eyed, red-
headed lobster?" He keeps his big mouth
open like he's goin' to say a heap more,
but just friendly like I puts my hand
back where I alwus finds my six-shooter,
an' strange-like, he shuts his big mouth
an' starts for the road, hasty like, an'
keeps a-goin' that way.
Jim comes in that night lookin' some
timid like, an' 'quires 'bout my health an'
so forth, an' then he says, off-hand like,
"All 'lone to-day?"
"Ain't I alwus alone, when you ain't
here?" I says back, innucent.
"Sorter thought you might a had corn-
puny," gurgles Jim, lookin' round the
camp some interested.
"Maybe 1 did," says I, "and maybe you
'11 help to bury him this evenin'. Some
plaguey fool comes ridin' round here mis-
takin' me for some durned fool what looks
like me, an "
Poor Jim was that scared that I
plugged Peters for sure that he begs me
to hide him 'cause the boys what seen the
deal'll think he done the shootin' 'stead
of me. I let the truth out easy like after
he got good and scared, an' then he makes
164
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
me a sohim promus never to borrer from
anybody 'ceptin' me — a promus none to
my likin', you bet.
You see what's libul to come to a man
what's got a twin what looks more like
himself than he does himself; but if 1
begins to tell you all what come to me
through Jim, why I keep a talkin' till the
end of the week, an' wouldn't be none
through then.
The worst ever was the time Jim got
stuck on a littl' half-breed Mexicun-Por-
tugee gal what he meets at a dance down
to Los Banos. This littl' gal was a sky
farmer's gal. Guess you know what's a
sky farmer. No? Well, a sky farmer's a
feller, usual like he's a Portugee, or a"
Dago or a Mex, or all three mixed inter
one, what has a ranch 'long the San
Joaquin Eiver where it's good for farmin'
about six months a year. He watches the
sky a plenty, an' when things don't look
his way, he tips and takes his furnootur
an' his horse, durned old plugs, you bet,
an' his pig, ain't never got more'n one, an'
BILL.
his cows an' with his famulle folleriiv
ahind, he moves, leavin' the old shacks
there. Sure pop, when it's rained all over
the place, an' the Joaquin's flowed over
his land some, back he comes an' plants
hay, an' off he goes agin, an' then time for
hay cuttin' an' balin' back he comes agin.
The sky farmer reasons like it's time for
nothin' to lay down an' bake awaitin' for
the rain, so he's makin' money in other
parts. But you bet when it's rainin' lots]
an' his land's lot rich for hay, he's alwus
back on time.
No sky farmin* in mine. I don't han-
ker, somehow, to kill six months with thisj
here neck of mine twisted up like lookiri'
at a sky what don't alwus look to suit.
This littl' gal what Jim gets stuck on
was a sky farmer's gal, an' 'cordin' to
Jim, was purty as a colt's what curried.
I'm no judge, so I says nothin' 'bout her.
looks an' so forth, but when Jim took toj
ridin' down to the valley to see her every
day or so, I gets some anxus an' sorter
hint around makin' 'quires. I didn't han-
ker to help feed a gal as well as Jim—
that's what it means for me if Jim takes
to double harness, 'cause Jim can't feed
himself, let alone a gal, even if she ain't
no more'n a sky farmer's gal an' used to
nothin'.
"Jim," says I one day, "what's that
gal's name an' where's her ole man's
shack?"
Jim's freckles turns sorter red, an' he
gets interested in his boots, lookin' at 'em
like he's never seen them afore. "Who?"
he says, some foolish.
I tells him what I thinks of him then,
an' him bein' some rattled, he tells all
about her, what her name was, an' where
she lived, an' how they loved each other.
"Rot !" says I, but sorter to myself, not
so's to hurt Jim's feelin's, 'cause Jim's
sensitive like, an' can't stand much hard
talk, specul 'bout his love affairs. Jim
had a lot of them afore this sky farmer's
gal come along, but none never took °o
bad what he couldn't eat his three square
meals a day.
"Bill," he says after a while, an' sorter
snuffles, "could you let me wear your best
close to-morrer, an' might you put a
twenty in the pockut ? I'm broke, honu.st,
I am, an? kin 1 take your horse an' saddle
an' bridle? There's a friend I know
what's hankei-in' for a ride on a good cay-
THE KED-HEADED TWINS OF DOS PALOS.
165
use for a spell back, an' this here friend
won't harm nothin' 'cause this here friend
rides like a full-fledged bronco buster
what served time at the busnus."
Jim kept a-goin' righ.t on but I couldn't
stand for any more just then, an' says
"yesv to everything. I never could go
them snuffles o' Jim's.
"What time'll you be wantin' them?"
F asks, after sayin' "yep."
"'Bout two, an' if " He snuffles
agin.
I stampeded, an' didn't hear, not to
this day, what else he was thinkin' I
wouldn't be needin' an' he would be want-
ing pretty bad.
Sun up the next day, Jim gives me a
hand breakin', a two-year-old what I
means to keep handy while Jim was a
borrerin' of my best outfit. About one
erclock Jim, bein' down by the crick tak-
in' a wash up, I jogs off down the road
sorter intendin' givin' the colt some ex-
ercise like, an' off-hand to visut the sky-
farmer's gal an' tell her how Jim stood
'cordin' to finances. I alwus hates to
see people cheated, cards or matreemony
specul like.
If Jim had a tole me how that there
gal of his couldn't talk no lingo but Por-
tugee-Mex, atween us we'd a saved a pile
of trouble, but Jim didn't, an' me never
mixin' much with forreners, can't talk
nothin' but good Unitud States.
I lopes up to the shack pretty fine, an'
out she comes, jabberin' away an' smilin'
an' blowin' me kisses, like I could savey.
She was tickled to death to see me, but
didn't listun to nothin' I was tellin' her
Tsout Jim — just kept a talkin' an' smilin'
an' blowin' kisses. By-un-bye she runs
in, an' then backs out agin with a big
bundle under her arm Mrhat she takes sud-
like an' throws at me, an' me like a ninny,
thinkin' 'it was for Jim, ties it on front
my saddle, mighty secure.
I tells her a lot more 'bout Jim, just
to sorter relieve my mind, but she don't
lisun to nothin', but climbs right up aback
on me on that colt an' there she sits grip-
pin' me by the ribs with her hooks an'
grippin' the colt by the ' ribs with her
hoofs, never asayin' a word agin that colt
what's buckin' like blazes an' tearin'
round that yard like a bee stung him.
"Slide !" 1 yells, me only ridin' with a
hackamore an' her there ahind me hoo-
dooin' things an' givin' that colt, what
thinks a lot of himself, a mighty big
chance to think a lot more. Well, that
gal stuck to me like a fly sticks to fly
paper, an' I just natshul like stuck to
that fool colt, what gets so durned stuck-
up that he quit the yard. He took us
down the road for home, goin' like he
owed somebody money back there at the
shack. We dusted moren't a mile of that
road, when I sees comin' along at a nice
friendly trot, leadin' my horse an' best
saddle an' bridle ahind him, my brother
Jim, all slick an' shiny in my new close.
The gal, bein' pretty snug aback of me,
sees nothin'.
Mv intentung bein' good to middlin', I
means to say "Hullo !" when we gets
close to Jim, but that durned colt, takin'
one sad, disgusted look at Jim in my
close, turns offer the road an' after jump-
in' mighty high over a crick an' a barbod
wire fence, takes a short cut for home,
leavin' the ffal in the crick an' me atop of
the barbed wire fence.
^^ _-J -^~r^?^Zi£z^
JIM/
166
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
"You grass-eyed, lobster-jawed, turkey-
egg-faced, green-eyed jealus thief," yells
Jim, comin' close as he could, furst look-
in' at me an' then at the gal, what was in
the crick up-side down. "You stole my
gal, you did ! You forced me to take your
close an' your other things to throw me
off the track, you did. You wanted to
alope, you did — just to cheat me out of
matreemony to-day." Jim -snuffles when
self from that there fence. The gal by
this time gets right side up, but can't see
nothin' cause her eyes is full of mud, just
chuck full, an' she can't say nothin' 'cause
her mouth is chuck full of mud, too.
^ By-an'-bye, Jim gets wind agin .an' be-
gins to say some more 'bout my looks an'
ways, an' so forth, an' by then that gal
has her eyes some clear of mud, an' looks
at Jim sittin' there all slick an' shiny on
YOU GRASS-EYED
he thinks of what I done, an' snuffles agin
when he looks at his gal in the crick.
"You be a nice brother, cheatin' my gal.
You told her you was a millunare, you
did." Jim stops for want of wind, an' ,
me still bein' a-straddle that barbed wire
fence what ain't none too pleasunt, I says
nothin', but keeps right on undoin' my-
JEALDS THIEF; YELLS JIM.
his horse. "Jeem," she says, in a voice
sad like an' some muddy, an' then round
she turns an' spots me, who don't look
none slick or shiny, my hat bein' some
half mile back an' my "chaps" bein' some
friendly with that barbed wire fence
"Jeem," she yells, spittin' out more mud.
"Jeem, Jeem, J-e-e-m!" An' then she
THE EED-HEADED TWINS OF DOS PALOS.
167
gits outer that crick an' takin' one good-
day peep at Jim an' anuther at me, she
starts down that there road, runnin' like
she seen spooks an' yellin' like the spooks
was after her.
Jim was some surprised when he sees
her lunnin' oft' like that, but me atop of
that fence was none inturested.
"Now Marietta's mad," snuffles Jim,
lookin' at me like I done him dirt on pur-
pus.
"Mad, is she?" I says, some angry.
"She ain't got no reesun for to be mad.
If there's anybudy round here what's got
a right to be that, why, that persun's me.
Ain't it bad enuff to be taken for a fool,
like you without bein' left a straddle of
this here fence, tied up wit hit like a
yearlin' what never seen it afore? You
shut your mouth till I'm off this here
fence, 'cause if you don't I'll shut it for
you when I get off."
That there speel shuts Jim's mouth
pretty quick, an' then leavin' my horse
there in the road for 'me, he rides off home
snufflin' like he was sorry he lost that
little gal.
It took more'n two days to catch that
colt, what was runnin' round pretty fresh,
a-carryin' that bundle with him, what be-
longs to the sky farmer's gal, not countin'
my saddle an' hackamore.
Jim an' me decided we hankered none
to give that gal her bundle, seem' as that
fool gal thinks Jim a double spook, so
Jim an' me not able .none to use what's
in that there bundle, makes a furst-rate
scarecrow outer it. We ain't seen a crow
round the place sence; asides it scared a
coyote most to death one night. Mr. Coy-
ote comes round soft-like in the moon-
light an' sees that there scarecrow blowin'
in the breeze. That Mr. Coyote's seen
scare-crows a-plenty afore, but not with
women's frilly trappin's a-wavin' in the
breeze. The old feller gives one mighty
scared yell, an' runs home an' we ain't
seen much of him sence, you bet.
. Jim snuffles some for a week, but cheers
up sudden-like when I sends him for a
time to Firebaugh, lettin' him wear my
new close an' doublin' that twenty in the
pockut. It alwus costs money to make
Jim quit that there snufflin', but it's lota
worth it to me, what hates snufflin' worse
'n rattlers, an' 'sides that, Jim forgets
'bout matreemony for a spell, an' that's
worth a heap to me, too.
By Raymond Bartlett.
DRAWINGS BY CLYDE COOKE.
The white foam gathers 'round the prow,
And the salt winds flying free;
Yet what care we for the depth below,
And the turmoil of the sea.
Men's lives on land grow double,
Eeplete with care and trouble,
Ho, then, for the swing of the sea.
We scorn the shore and the breakers' roar,
And we fear the harbor mouth;
With sloping masts o'er the ocean's floor,
We tack and veer to the south.
With the brisk salt breeze before us,
And the sea-bird sweeping o'er us,
We're the gipsies of the sea.
In the teeth of the gale, we laugh at the hail,
And the whitecaps seething under ;
When the lashing swells beat o'er the rail,
And the smoking seas asunder.
With dipping prow we labor,
We beat round cape and harbor,
We're the children of the storm.
We hear the bells o'er the rising swells,
And we see the lighthouse gleam;
We skirt the caves where the foam maids dwell,
And the idle mermen dream.
For wealth and names we care not,
A monarch's crown we'd wear not,
We count ourselves as free.
O'er reef and woe, with never a blow,
In howling wind and weather,
'Neath tropic vine, through frigid snow,
Our hearts beat one together.
On land they count to-morrow,
Its pleasure and its sorrow,
We count and live to-day.
H**. M>
•^ .'.* ^
^^iSfi^jfo^
. . ^> ^E^5&O^"l^^i^_J^' TiT~* .*-
IN DEL GADDO PLACE
BY EDITH KESSLER
ILLUSTRATED BY CLYDE COOKE
WAS a narrow, ir-
regular, cobble-paved
street. No, it did not
attain the dignity of a
street, for "no thor-
oughfare" was pro-
claimed by a squalid
rookery set squarely
across its width. It was steep with the
grass-grown steepness of some San Fran-
cisco streets, and obscure in that it was
not exactly down town, and still not out
of its reaching clutches. Jutting flags
and treacherous cobbles marked its for-
bidding way; a shrinking, tortuous way,
that yet had no shame in the flaunting
dinginess and squalor of its unpainted,
weather-beaten houses; climbing, scram-
bling one above another rudely shoving
those below, leaning upon those above.
Del Gaddo Place is a habitat of Italians,
not of the very poorest variety. These
dwellers rather scorn the common day-
laborer. They are artisans of various
sorts, skilled workers or helpers; makers
of images, proprietors of small shops;
flower-vendors, and all are musicians by
right of birth. For more than a few it is
a profession, and among these was Carlo.
Carlo was a boy of sixteen, sullen and
stooped with weary years of enforced prac-
tice. The hours upon hours he had stood,
dully, endlessly reiterating difficult pas-
sages, while without his comrades shouted
and played, these were things he remem-
bered, and would not think of. For his
father was a musician, a composer, and it
was his vow his son should be a great
man — a maestro of the violin. Ther
were rankling memories of a former time
in another land that bit into his present
poverty as a corroding acid. His son
to be his salvation, the magic hand which
was to make bright a distant, long-intend-
ed future. This little unctuous oily max
cared nothing for his daughters. "Let
them go/' he said. And they were gc
ing.
Lotta, handsome and twenty, was mak-
ing the parental roof one of her transient
visits. She and Carlo were alone in the
room. The old man had gone out on hei
entrance. He was always uncomfortable
when with her, and she frankly loath oc
him.
"Carlo, why don't you cut the whole
thing and get out?" She was American-
born, and her accent was scarcely notice
able. The morning was warm and bright,
with the hazy, heavy brightness of a Sai
Francisco clear day. She sat by the opei
window,- and leaned her chin moodily upoi
her upturned palm. Her clear olive fac
was hard, the eyes veiled in a smoldering
resentment. Lines were already about
them, and unnecessary traces of paint
showed garishly in the morning light. Ths
two were very plainly brother and sister,
but in the boy's big black eyes were added
an acute sensitiveness that had utterly
disappeared from his sister's.
"If I left him, I'd smash the violin into
a thousand pieces. It's fierce — it's a night-
mare. You do not know."
She laughed derisively.
"Don't know ! Smash it ; smash it over
DEL GAD DO PLACE.
171
his head. Come to me. I've got some
good friends. They'll get you something
to do, for me."
"How do yon like the place where you.
are working now?" He looked up with
a fond affection.
"On, all right," she answered hastily.
"And, Pippa, could you take her till I
got started? 1 can't leave her here. She
is the plague of the block now when I am
practicing." A worried frown gathered
over his eyes.
"Oh, no !" she ejaculated hurriedly.
"Pippa'd have to stay here. There —
wouldn't be any place for her."
He sighed.
"Well, I can't go yet, then. Besides,
this is the only thing I can earn money
with now, and he gets all he can squeeze
out of me. Beppo don't tell him all he
gives me. If he should "
She shrugged her shoulders.
'•'You're a big boy now. You can take
care of yourself."
"Yes." He glanced over his shoulder.
"But Pippa—
"Does he do that, then?" She scowled,
and an ugly temper showed in her eyes.
"Well, if he does again, you let me know.
I'll Poor Pippa !" Her wrath went
out in a sudden dejection. She shook her
shoulders as if to shake off all unpleasant-
ness. "Well, you'll come to it. I'll see
what I can do." She rose and bent over
him. kissing his forehead. The eyes of
both were wet. She readjusted the fur
about her neck, straightened her white
chiffon hat, and crossed the room with a
rustle of silken skirts whose frayed edges
were soiled with much contact with tke
street.
On her way out she passed Pippa swing-
ing on the sagging gate. The slender, elf-
like child looked up with awe and stretched
one thin hand timidly toward the rustling
finery. The older girl stopped.
"Want to smooth the kitty, honey? See
the pretty, long fur." The little hand
buried itself in the soft mass.
"It'.? nice," she ventured, gravely. Lotta
laid i hand caressingly on either cheek,
and turned the little face up to hers. She
said earnestly:
"You must be good, very good, Pippa,
and do exactly as Carlo tells you, always;
and some day I'll bring you a kitty like
t'hi>. all for you11 own."
"Yes, 1 will," she answered solemnly.
"I won't tear Carlo's music, or scare old
Rossi's monkey, or make his parrot squawk
or push little Pietro into the gutter when
it rains, 'cause he's a cry-baby or anything
again — ever !"
Lotta laughed and sighed again, pick-
ing her way down the precipitous street,
and the child's eyes followed her with a
look of holy ecstasy. A vision, a dream
transcending the possible, had stooped to
her.
That same afternoon, old Garcia entered
the room where his son was practicing.
There was a peculiar narrowed look about
his eyes, and he smiled softly as he rubbed
his hands tentatively together. He was
quite a little man, and he moved noiseless-
ly, his heavy fat chin thrust rather up-
ward, his gray brows always slightly lifted
as though to clear his eyesight. An un-
pleasant person at best, this afternoon
even accustomed Carlo shrank inwardly
at the almost caressing tone of his smooth,
purring Italian. He sat down quite close
to the rickety music stand before which
Carlo stood, and for a moment drew
thoughtful marks in the dust of the win-
dow sill with his finger. Suddenly he
looked up.
"Your sister, the little Pippa — where .'s
she?"
This, although both could hear her
crooning over house-wifely mud pies in
the little yard outside. Carlo shrugged
his shoiilders and said nothing. The voice
flowed on, smooth, hideously pleasant.
"She is becoming a torment to all Del
Gaddo Place, is it not so? Certain com-
plaint? from Signora Mata have grieved
me."
A picture of fat, dull Signora Mata
came before Carlo. She was a great friend
of his father's, and none of his. He grew
perplexed and apprehensive.
"Ah, yes, my Carlo, another little
thing. I had almost forgotten. The
wages the good Beppo gives you, far be-
yond your deserts, but a help to our pres-
ent needs. So you bring them all home
always — my Carlo?"
Now Carlo knew. His face grew sul-
len and stolid. His quick fingers ran in-
terminably up and down liquidly flowing
scales. His shoulder was toward his
father.
"Silent one," the voice grew plaintive,
172
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
"is it not unjust to me who loves you, to
deceive so one who is to make you great —
and happy, as I shall.'' He paused and
smiled softly again. "Carlo, Beppo is a
good friend, but over the red wine many
things come forth. It is many dollars,
you foolish and spendthrift boy, you have
with-held. And Pippa eats so much —
Pippa who is also so ungrateful; and
whom it grieves me so to punish."
Monotonous arpeggios accompanied this
monologue, nor ceased at its ending. The
nervous fingers flew, for it was this oc-
cupation kept them from things more to
be regretted.
"It was much money for so young a
boy, my son. Some is perhaps spent.
If but twenty-five dollars remain, we will
forget the mistake. It was wrong to me,
but I am a good father, not brutal as some
are, and 1 will forgive. Also, I will col-
lect the wage from Beppo now."
Carlo half turned.
"Beppo lied. I have no money."
"Yes ? Ah, Carlo, believe me, it is wise
to have the money. Pippa is such a bad
child! I cannot have so much trouble."
He had risen, and laid one hand on Carlo's
arm.
"It was a lie. Of course you don't be-
lieve. I cannot help it." The boy
shrugged his shoulders again, turning
away and bending his drooping head over
the notes, that his father might not see
his eyes.
"It is a pity not to remember you have
the money. And Pippa also such a bad
child, who grieves me so that I must pun-
ish her."
He crossed the room with a shuffling
tread, pausing at the door.
"You perhaps may remember — now?"
A stubborn silence filled the room. He
sighed as he turned away. "And Pippa
such a bad child, too !"
Carlo heard, with set teeth, the slam of
the outside door, the sudden ceasing of
Pinna's crooning song, the bewildered pro-
test, the angry, frightened cries as th-i
two came down the empty ringing hall,
a steady shuffling tread, and scrambling,
dragging footfalls.
He ground his teeth, and played high,
fierce airs to drown the dismal wails. Ami
long after these had sobbed themselves to
a final silence, he played, white faced and
tense, for he knew his father, and he was
facing a new future. He did not hear the
sounds he brought forth. It was a me-
chanical performance, the visible sign to
his father that he did not care. An iota
of relenting, one quailing move, would re-
double his malignance, and put both him-
self and Pippa in much worse case. For
both of them it was to be gone through
with, and he emerged, old, bitter, pur-
poseful. Something had been killed in
him, and something born. The last of the
boy had gone; the boy with a sense of
duty, with a latent desire for affection.
The germ of the man who hunts and ">B
hunted, the man in the thick of the strug-
gle for existence, had been implanted. His
father was no longer a father, one of
the family clan ; he was one of the enemy ;
one of the hounding, harassing, threaten-
ing powers, to be thwarted, circumvented,
taken by the throat.
Pippa was very happy. With the buoy-
ancv of childhood, she was living in the
jov of the present moment. The prospect
of a rare treat was before her. She was
going down town with Carlo.
She skipped by his side down the steep
streets, her long black eyes dancing, her
two little braids bobbing up and down
with her ecstasy. It was difficult for her
to keep with Carlo's sober trudge, and her
continuous conversation bristled with ex-
clamation points.
The slow grey twilight was fading into
the many-lighted dark. Electric signs,
red, yellow and white, flared across the
sidewalk below them; scattering windows
hung brilliant squares in the dimness
above. Dark figures hurried or slouched
in and out, back and forth through the
halos of shop windows. Pippa clutched
her brother's hand ecstatically, as they
passed open shops, from which issued the
much-tried voice of a phonograph min-
gling with the stentorian tones of an at-
tendant hawker. Her eyes opened wide
at the fragrant florists' windows, and grew
round as they passed gorgeous bare-headed
Chinawomen.
They turned down many streets, they
skirted Chinatown; in a district where
the men were mostly dark and foreign-
looking, they paused. In this quarter the
streets were illy-lit and furtive, and their
dinginess is hidden by obscuring shadows.
Their population was scattering, and
THE MAN FELL WITHOUT A GROAN.
174
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
empty vistas yawned between blank frown-
ing walls, whose dull spaces were lit by
occasional gleaming slits, which only ac-
centuate the forbidding aspect. It was all
in striking contrast to the busy thorough-
fares and teeming Chinese quarter from
which they had just emerged, and Pippa
was glad when they Caused before the
streaming lights of the low, red-curtained
windows, and descended the shallow flight
of stone steps that marked the entrance.
Here was life in plenty; a garrulous
cigarette smoking, gesticulating life. The
upper air under the low brown rafters was
hazy with floating blue vapor, the saw-
dust sprinkled floor bore imprint of many
passing feet. About the oil-cloth covered
tables it was trampled and shoved into
billowy heaps, and stained with the lees
of wine. Deft, white-aproned waiters
passed about, and from group to group
sauntered a taciturn man, slender in build,
and rather taller than his fellows. On
occasions, as he paused, a slow smile
would lift his pointed mustaches. As he
caught sight of Carlo making his way
across the room this smile faded, and a
conscious, almost shame-faced expression
took its place. He started vaguely toward
the boy, then leaning back against a pil-
lar, he folded his arms and waited.
He had not to wait long. Carlo deposit-
ed his violin box upon the floor of the
raised stand, which was his nightly post.
Then he lifted the half-timid, half-smiling
Pippa to the wooden chair upon it, and
turning, came straight down to the man.
"Beppo, after to-night I quit."
The man started.
"Quit ! Oh, come now "
"I quit !"
He turned on his heel, and the man
watched him as he carefully tuned his in-
strument, rubbed a lump of resin the
length of his bow, and swung abruptly into
a popular waltz. The man whistled softly
between his teeth, and his eyes grew
speculative.
Pippa pulled at Carlo's coat, and as he
turned, pointed to the door with a bright-
eyed anticipation. Two girls and a man
were just coming in. One girl was a little
in advance of her companions, standing
straight and handsome, as she swept the
room with a brilliant roving glance. The
magnetism of her full-blooded personality
drew the eyes of the occupants to her,
and among them the man leaning: again*
the pillar. She evidently saw what si
sought, and more, for a half-startled loc
came into her eyes, as they dropped froi
Carlo's to the bright, eager little orbs
side him. She turned to the other gii
an admirable foil of over-dressed insignifi-
cance, and after a whispered word and a
nod they made their way to a table near
the musician. Before seating herself, the
girl walked over to Carlo, saying in a low
voice :
"So you've done it?"
He nodded, and in his eyes was an odd
reflection of the timid eagerness in Pip-
pa's by his side.
"Well, I'm going to do the best I can.
I don't know, though." Her tone was
dubious, and her worried face a contrast
to the gay, ultra-mode of her attire aud
artificially radiant cheeks. It changed
quickly, and its hardened vivacity came
back like a mask.
"We'll pull it otf together, though. It's
up to me now."
She went slowly back to the table, and
as she was seating herself her heavy eyes
met the interested ones of the man by
the pillar. A smoldering flash lit them
for a moment before they were lowered.
Her friends were having a gay time over
the menu, and she joined them with zest.
She ignored the man who was watching
her. The feast was set before them,
strange concoctions redolent of garlic,
spaghetti, ravioli, anchovies, and a couple
of bottles of vin ordinaire — "Dago Red."
The man left the pillar and sat down at
a vacant table near by. Two, three times
the girl glanced sidewise at him, a slow,
lingering oiance over the red-brimming
edge of her glass. The man's mustaches
lifted ever so slightly, and then the party
became four. Waiters were obsequious,
the "Dago Red" was changed to Chianti,
laughter flowed with the wine, and eyes
sparkled with both.
But a good time alwavs comes to an
end. Finally, two of the party rose, and
with many adieus the party became two
parties. Lotta and the man called Beppo,
the thrifty proprietor of the restaurant,
'became very quiet. They talked in low
tones and without gestures. His eye-
brows rose as she talked, and he was seri-
ous.
"Yes, I can do it," he said, "but-
IN DEL GADDO PLACE.
176
He smiled, a slow smile that lifted his
mustache, and he looked at her across the
table.
She leaned back and said nothing.
"Yes, 1 can do it," he repeated, delib-
erately, "but " This time he did not
smile as he looked steadily at her.
Then she awoke in a torrent of low
Italian. Scorn lighted her eyes. He
shrugged his shoulders. Then he an-
swered with a few slow words. She
broke into English.
"Friend — there's no such thing as
friend — in this world!" She threw back
her head, and the hardness in her eyes
was painful. "So this was your friend-
ship, after all."
She fell silent, and her eyes rested upon
the waiting, dependent, trusting brother
and sister. The gloom in her face inten-
sified.' The man also was silent. She
rose slowly from the table, her eyes still
upon the patient, huddled little form of
lier half-asleep sister.
"Well?" said the man, as he held out
Iris hand. Her eyes did not leave the
•child, but with a twisted smile she laid
her hand in his. Then she went to the
little group, and he did not follow her.
"Come, Pippa, sister will take care of
you now."
The little girl scrambled off the chair
in haste, broad awake and apprehensive
on the instant.
"Carlo, it's all right now — I guess."
She nodded to him, and led Pippa
away, abruptly.
As the two disappeared through the
open doorway, the voice of the violin
rose in a joyous burst of melody.
Beppo beamed on his customers, wan-
dering from one table to another, and
as the hour grew late, finally settled with
some cronies at a side table. Wines of
yellow and red flowed freely, and as Carlo
— at peace with the world — approached
to settle with his employer, he smiled in
sympathy with their revelry. He stood
just behind Beppo, as with unsteady hand
the man lifted his glass. The thick words
of his toast brought a quick, checked
hilariH to the, lips of his fellows. In
the sudden silence the blue-white arc
light above their heads sizzed with a spas-
modic splutter. A gleam of steel flashed
in its glare, and a boy's unsteady voice
broke shrilly:
"Devil of "a liar!"
The man fell without a groan. The
boy stood back, looking down at him. On
the floor, a red widening blot that was
not wine, spread into the sawdust.
BY ARTHUR H. BUTTON
IGHT at our doors, it
may be said, is a re-
gion, not difficult of
access, which is a
paradise to artist and
athlete, to fisherman,
sportsman, tourist, to
every lover of the
beautiful and the grand, to every one in-
terested in man and nature. A part,
but only a small part, of this region is
known, and this small part is fast losing
its noveltv, the greater and more attrac-
tive part being as yet nearly virgin to the
sightseer and traveler of the white race.
The region is in Southeastern Alaska.
This general region has been much writ-
ten about, but principally from the stand-
point of those who have skimmed over the
beaten paths of the Southeastern Alaska
travelers; those who go over the usual
route, which, while undoubtedly one o*
the most attractive anywhere, is surpassed
by neighboring districts.
It was my good fortune to spend a
summer recently as an officer on the little
steamer Gedney, belonging to the United
States Coast and Geodetic Survey, which
had been detailed to explore and survey
Chatham and Sumner straits, Christian
sound and neighboring waters about
Kuiu, Baranoff and adjacent islands.
Here I saw sights and had experiences and
pleasures that I little anticipated. We
had enioved the trip up, over the route
ordinarily followed by the steamers which
make the so-called inside passage to Alas-
kan ports, but we did not meet with the
gems until after leaving the beaten pat
It is a land of primeval forest and me-
dieval man. Here the degenerate Siwash
is not so far civilized as to be the hope-
less individual he is in such tourist-ridden
places as Ketchikan, Killisnoo, Sitka, Ju-
neau and other towns. On Kuiu island
he still has some relics of the ancients of
his race. He is certainly not content to
while away his life in idleness, varied only
with drunken potlatches. On the contrary,
he still resents the coming of the white
man, whom he will slay if he can catch
him unawares and without fear of ap-
prehension. He still lives on fish and
game, and still wears many garments of
ancient design and manufacture. The
forests are as grand as the snow-capped,
rugged mountains that over-tower them.
One may walk, or rather climb, over them
for hours, their silent majesty impressing
one with the grandeur of nature when
left alone by man.
The most striking feature of this beau-
tiful region is the closeness with which
varieties of scenery are assembled. First
there is the deep strait, on either side of
which are islands, most of them spined
with tall, white-tipped mountains. The
shores are indented with beautiful bays
and coves, whose mere existence is not
suspected until their entrances are
reached. It is these that the average tour-
ist misses. It was our duty to find them
and tc explore and survey them. We en-
tered many. Some are wide, dotted with
islets. Others a.'e little lagoons, innocent
of ail life except fish and game, even the
THE LAND OF AKT, SPORT AND PLEASURE.
[ndians seldom visiting them. In the
larger ones there are occasional camps of
Indian fishermen and hunters — during an
entire summer we found not half a dozen
traces of the rare white prospectors who
have visited the region.
Streams pour into these bays and la-
goons, deer and bear wander along their
shores, the latter sweeping up fish by
the handful. We entered a harbor once
—it i<= now called Patterson bay — where
we saw two families of bear, one a pair
of big brown bear, the other two parent
black bear, with three cubs. The two
groups were some distance apart, and
failed to discover our approach until we
rounded a bend and saw them, the sound
of our boat being drowned by the roar
of a magnificent cataract. These cata-
racts are among the most beautiful fea-
tures of the place. They are to be found
everv few miles, coming from mountain
streams of more or less size, which are
but the overflows, in most cases, of beau-
tiful fresh-water lakes, which are plentiful
in the higher plateaus and valleys farther
inland.
The landscape artist can find ample
field for his art in this wild and inspir-
ing country. Its aspect, both general and
detailed, impresses even the prosaic lay-
man. The poet may be carried away in
rapid flights in its contemplation. As a
health .resort, the islands on both sides
of Chatham and Sumner straits and
Christian sound are magnificent. A sum-
mer lodge or shooting box, built of the
heavy, enduring timber that abounds, it*
masonry of the varied rocks or the fine
marble which may be found in profusion
and easily quarried, could be located in
few places so beautiful. Sheltered from
bad weather, surrounded by the fairest
prospect in good, they would be even at-
tractive winter houses, for the climate of
South-eastern Alaska is no more rigorous
than that of Massachusetts or England.
It is cooler than either in summer, and
no colder in winter.
The harbors, coves and bays are simply
alive with fish of great variety. Cod, sal-
mon, halibut and many other food fishes
are present in vast numbers. When the
Gedney would anchor in one of these
lovely harbors, the fish-lines would go
overboard as soon as her "mud-hook" wa?
down. The fish would fall over themselves
getting caught and hauled aboard, to be
eaten at our next meal. In the streams
and the interior lakes there is an abund-
ance of gamey trout.
Bear, deer, plover, grouse, ptarmagar,
ducks, geese and swans are but some of
the game animals and birds to be fovnd
with little difficulty., although the black
bear are timid, and the deer, partly owing
to the Indians, are rather warv. and pa-
tience and skill must be practiced to get
near enough for a shot, except in some
of the little outside islands, such as Coro-
nation Island, where they have not been
much disturbed by any one and may be
driven and cornered, owing to the steep
hills and crags characteristic of the
island.
I can imagine no better way for heal-
thy men and women, lovers of the grand
and of the beautiful, fond of sport and
an out-of-door life, to sr>end a few months
— years, I should personally say — than
to make headouarters in a sturdily-built
lodge in some of the coves and bays
which line the islands named, and thence
to sally forth on trips into the surround-
ing neighborhood after game and sport
and exercise. The parties should go
armed at all times, tor there are not only
wild animals that might, in a pinch, be
uglv, but there are still Indians in some
places who do not look kindly upon the
white man's invasion. But they are ...10
more dangerous than the perils of the
mountains and the plains of. other more
familiar parts of the country, and add
the spice of danger which makes the whole
experience more enjoyable. The timid may
stay nearer their base, with ready refuge
in the house, for the animals and the
Indians never approach too near to the
white man's settlement.
I may suggest a few of many spots
where such a lodge might be built easily
and favorable. Such are Tebenkof bay,
Patterson bay, Port Malmesbury, Port
Conclusion, Egg Harbor, Port Armstrong.
Gedney Harbor and Port MJcArthur. Were
more known about these wonderful re-
sorts, I am sure that they would not long
be left to Indians, a few surveyors and an
occasional nrospector.
THE REVENGE
OF THE I
BLUE HORDE
BY CLARENCE HAWKES
ILLUSTRATED BY W. R. DAVENTPORT.
HE WARM SOUTH
wind is dancr g a ""•
down the aisles oi '• ••
forest. He has b ..
so long exiled from
his 'beloved fields and
woods of New. Eng-
land that he is mak-
ing up for all he has lost in the winter
months that have passed. His 'boisterous
cousin, the North wind, has had it all
his own way too long. It is time he was
taught his place, so the South wind is
pushing him rapidly back towards the
poles, and he is so glad that his hour has
come again that he whistles a merry tune
upon his pipe as he goes.
How sweet the woods are now he has
passed. He was fresh from a race
through the orchard and had filled his
wings with crab-apple scent and scattered
it lavishly through the woods. The wild
azalia, too, he has gentlv swayed in pass-
ing1. He has brought a whiff of arbutus
and wild cherry., and the pugent, whole-
some smell of balsam and pine needles
quickened into fragrance by the warm
May sunlight.
What an important air the South wind
has to-dav. as he dances through the for-
est, blowing lustily upon his flageolet.
You would really think he owned the
whole universe.
What a thrill of life is stirring to-day
in the half-grown leaves and the bursting
buds, in the groping fronds and the ger-
minating seeds.
Now the South wind has passed, the
forest is as still as though enchanted.
Not a leaf rustles, not a breath is stirring.
Hark, what is that? A song in the top of
a spruce, low-keyed and liquid. A won-
derful love dittv, now it is repeated softer
jre exquisitely than before. What
oird in all the forest sings like that? It
is not an oriole or thrush, but quite as
sweet as either. Then a bough bends, and
a wonderful blue coat flashes in the sun-
light, and the most strident, querulous,
rasping voice in the forest cries: "Jay,
Jay, Say, Say. Didn't know I could sing
like that, did you? Well, I can when I
am a mind to, but I won't for you. Jay,
Jay, Jay!"
He flashes out of the ' tree and across
the fields, and is gone. A veritable blue-
coat, but altogether a noisy, quarrelsome
fellow, the spy of the woods, always
squawking and calling when you want
listen, and many times drowning t
sweet son^s of other birds with his hide-
ous squawking. A gay Barmen"' " ico^
all show and bright feathers, but at
heart a saucy, shallow fellow.
The song we heard this morning was
the jay's spring love song. His one musi-
cal attempt, that only his mate on the
nest with the warm eggs under her can
inspire. You did not suspect him of such
sentiment. Neither did I until J heard
him with my own ears.
But when you stop to think of it, that
miracle going on in the top of the spruce
is enough to make a crow or any living
thing that has warm blood in its veins
sing.
But there was one menace that May
morning to the feathered folks of the
woods. It was a silent, stealthy, gliding
danger that was always with them. No
matter how fresh and green or inviting a
grassy plot or a bunch of brakes might
THE REVENGE OF THE BLUE HORDE.
179
look, this stealthy, creeping danger might
oe coiled in the sweet green depths.
There was a peculiar enmity between
this subtle something and the jay family,
for the jays were the spies of the woods.
Many a bird's plumage had been saved
bir the strident squawl of the jay. When-
ever any of these gay-liveried, saucy spies
saw the black snake creeping upon its
prey, or lying in ambush along some
favorite path, or coiled in the trees, the
jay would at once set up a great squawk-
ing, and alarm the whole forest for a
quarter of a mile about. Then birds and
squirrels would be upon their guard, and
perhaps the black evil would go hungry,
thanks to the jay's vigilance. So there
was a particular hatred between the jay
family and the black snake, who made the
i swamp above the old mill pond an
meant a snake. Then a slim head, blacker
even than his own, was lifted high above
the grass, and two eyes glittering and ter-
rible, burnino- with hatred and glowing
with malice, were riveted upon the water
snake.
But what cared he — was he not the ter-
ror of the mill pond? Who was this
stranger that dared to invade his king-
dom, defy 'him and even appear con-
temptuous of his sway? So he made one
or two extra coils in his long, powerful
form, and glared back at his enemy, dart-
ing out his tongue with lightning rapidity
and returning hate for hate with stead v.
glowing eyes.
The black snake lifted his head still
higher above the grass and came on, cir-
ol; •"? alout his rival and seeking to taice
• • off his guard, but the water snaka
.
The same morning that the black snake
left his headquarters in the swamp and
went on a journey, a huge, dark water
snake crawled out on the bank and took
a nap in the warm May sunshine. He
was larger even than the black snake of
the swamp, and this morning he felt
quite contented with the world in general
and his own lot in particular, for he had
dined the morning before upon a half-
grown musk-rat.
Up, up, from the swale the black snake
came creeping, and the young grass wrig-
gled at his coming, while the terror of
the mill pond slept upon the muddy bank.
Finally the sleeping water snake awoke,
raised his head and looked cautiously
about. Something was coming his wav.
There was a tremor in the grass, and this
ward his tail. Then with a lightning
motion, the black snake wound his own
tail about a small elm that stood upon
the bank. With a convulsive contortion
he raised his own uglv form in the air.
and with it that of the water snake. Like
a long, 'black rope the double length of
snake rose and fell, beating the earth,
but the third time the black rope made
a srraceful half-circle, then shot forward
with a lightning motion. With a report
like the crack of a whip, the head of the
water snake rolled into the pond, while
his body writhed and twisted in the grass.
Then the black snake unwound his coil
from the water elm and hatched the
dying contortions of his enemy.
When the wriggling of the water snake
had ceased and it was apparent that Le
180
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
was quite dead, his enemy gloated above
him and swelled with pride over his greit
victory. Then he swam the pond and
went into the woods beyond in search of
more foes to conquer.
It happened this same morning that a
partly fledged jay had fallen from the
nest. He was r.ot ready to fly, and his
parents were in a great dilemma. The
old snake heard their cries afar off, and
knew quite well that some one was in
trouble. Trouble for the birds at nesting
time usually meant plunder for him, so
he hastened in the direction from which
the squawking and cries of distress came.
~
and still another and another. The call
was answered from across the mill pond,
and from far and near the blue-coated
rogues came flying, calling as they came,
"Jay, jay, pay, pay, flay, flay!"
Tho outraged father led them hurried-
ly back to the spot where the deed hadj
been committed, and where the grievinj
mother still watched the greedy snake*
swallowing her fledgling. One would noji
have imagined there was as many jav.s
within ten miles as soon flocked above the
snake, all squawking with rage and
Each moment the cries grew louder, aJofl
soon the birds began darting viciously at
The poor victim squawked once or
twice, fluttered feebly, and was still; the
life had been crushed out of it by the
destroyer.
Both of the jay parents darted viciously
at the snake, but he paid little attention
to them, and began leisurely swallowing
his prize.
Then the male jay rose in the air high
above the tree tops, and flew rapidly away,
calling at the top of his strident voice
as he flew :
"Jay, jay, pay, pay, flay, flay !"
Another jay in a distant tree-top took
UD the cry and flung it far on into the
woods. Soon another was heard calling
•"••"^•5 ' *•"•*• J •*
over him and he slunk into the grass,
feeling actually afraid for the first time
in his life.
As long as he faced them and struck at
them, whenever they came too near, he
had been comparatively safe, but now
he had turned tail and was fleeing, it was
different.
At the moment he showed the white
feather, the whole angry horde fell upon
him like furies. A half dozen darted
down at once, picking at as many places
in his wriggling black coils. He turned
and struck, and his motions were so
quick that the eye could hardly follow
him. Two wounded jays fluttered down
STAGE OF THE WOODS.
181
into the underbrush, but what cared the
rest. The horde was aroused and noth-
ing but blood would atone for the mur-
der that the snake had done.
The black fury could not strike in a
dozen places at once, and some of them
were sure to wound him. Soon his skin
had been broken in many places, and he
was covered with blood, but none of his
great strength was gone. A half dozen
beaks tore at his tail, and he turned,
writhino- with pain, to strike at these tor-
mentors. At the same instant, a jay
struck him fairly in the right eye, and
that organ lay out on his cheek and was
useless. This was the beginning of the
end, but his end was terrible, as was his
desert. Never punishment fell from
heaven upon the guilty more swiftly or
surely. In a few seconds more his other
eye was gone, and he could only strike
blindly and thrash and writhe in convul-
sions of pain. Slowly and relentlessly
tlhey picked and tore at the writhing
mass. In five minutes after the battle be-
gan, the snake's skin was stripped to rib-
bons, his entrails dragged upon the
ground, and he was so torn and pecked
that his own mate would not have known
him. Thus was justice meted out, and
the black destroyer went the way that he
had sent so many helpless fledglings.
STAGE OF THE WOODS
LOUISE AYKES GAKNTETT
I SIT unnoticed in a woodland spot
And touch my golden lyre.
Its notes are plaintive with a world of sighs,
Or bright with rhythmic fire;
I sing a song, a happy winged song,
That echoes my desire.
Ah, what a perfect stage ! no ears to hear
My voice lament, or troll,
Save those most friendly critics of the woods —
The blossoms on the knoll,
The trees, the purling stream, the flying birds,
And my attentive soul.
A TRIP TO CUERNAVACA
BY MARY E. S^YDEB
ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS.
Mexico City, March, 1907.
Y DEAE FLO: In
this I am going to
tell you of my trip to
Cnernavaca, consid-
ered here one of the
most intere sting
places in this part of
the Eepublic.
We rise early and are away before the
business of the day begins. Half circling
Mexico City, we view historical Chapul-
tepec Castle, the summer home of Presi-
dent Diaz, from three sides, pass several
of the quaint suburban towns, then tra-
verse miles of maguey plantations. Let
me explain here that the maguey, a mem-
ber of the agava family, closely resembles
the century plant, and the juice extracted
from it is the pulque, an intoxicant drunk
by men, women and children of the lower
classes, much to their detriment.
The morning, like nearly all here, is
perfect, and soon spread before us in the
.bright sunshine is a panorama of the
whole Mexican basin, near the center of
which the spires of the metropolis glisten,
and forming a background for the spark-
ling waters of Lake Texcoco, are the snow
crested "Popo" and "The White Woman,"
as the qrand old peaks of Popocatepetl
and Ixtaccihautl are commonly called,
standing guard, as it were, over the coun-
try for miles in every direction. A little
later only a great bank of fleecy clouds
marks the location of these mountains.
ITp. up we toil until Cima (summit),
10,000 feet above sea level, is reached. As
our starting point is considerably more
than a mile up in the air (a little less
than 7,500 feet above sea level) slightly
more difficult respiration is the only effect
we feel from our elevated position.
We make short stops at Julia, Olivar,
Toro (bull), Tres Maria (three Marys),
and other places bearing such euphonious
appellations, which usually consist of a
box car for a depot and a few straw 01
adobe huts, as residences. The whole
population is at the train, one or more
heavily armed Rurales (country police)
pacing up and down, the Indian women
with offerings of fruit, ensalades (a mix-
ture of chopped vegetables, chile always
being one of the important ingredients,
wrapped in tortillas, turn-over style) and
other edibles, with "pulque," served in
little brown pottery pitchers, to drink.
These venders are well patronized by the
"Segunda Clase" passengers, as the Mexi-
can seems always hungry, at least he
never loses an opportunity ~ to eat. Many
of these articles of food have an appetiz-
ing appearance, but the women offering
them are so disgustingly dirty that for-
eigners have little inclination to buy any-
thing except fruit. At one station we se-
cure some of the most delicious strawber-
ries I have ever eaten.
Leaving Cima, we begin the descent,
and drop down something like five thou-
sand feet in twenty-five miles. We look
down upon the clouds, then pass through
them, and the view for most of the dis-
tance is very pretty. Away below us in
the valley we see Cuernavaca, first on one
side of the train, then on the other, as we
gradually approach over our tortuous
route.
At the station there is a scramble to se-
cure one of the antiquated looking "o
ches," which convey those who do not
care to patronize the mule trams to the
town.
I have heard much of the beauties of
this old Mexican town, but this is one
rare instance where reality surpasses an-
ticipation. All is so quiet, peaceful,
primitive and quaint, as we pass through
narrow, crooked streets, with low, tilod
roofed, adobe buildings on either side, the
colorings, which were no doubt harsh
when new, having been reduced by time to
such delicate blues, greens, creams and
terra-cottas, all blending to produce a
THE TRIP TO CUERNAVACA.
183
Lost mellow, harmonious effect. The set-
jiiiu seems so appropriate for the moving
Igurcs — the men with the usual white cot-
lo'n suit, sandaled or bare feet, and im-
laense sombrero, eniding' a train of cli-
ininutive burros, which are nearly hidden
leneath great panniers, bales of hay, sacks
If charcoal, etc., or themselves balancing
|eavy loads on their heads; the women,
jometimes in the cheap cotton skirt, some-
jlimes in the more picturesque hand-made
}rool ones, consisting of one long strip
If cloth drawn straight across the back,
lath deep plaits laid in the front, and the
Iver present rebosa, which serves not only
Is a head and shoulder wrap, but also for
tarrying the baby or great bundles of
Merchandise, often both together. The
|eon women may not be the bread winners,
lut they certainly contribute their share
loward the family supply of tortillas.
I After much jolting over the cobble-
i|>aved streets, wielding of whip and utter-
Ing of the peculiar whistle employed by
native drivers, my sombreroed "cocherov
fleposits me at the hotel, where new sur-
prises await me. Following a broad cor-
ridor, I find myself in one of the most
ipeautiful patios I have ever seen, and that
s saying much — there are so many beau-
ftiful ones in Mexico. Properly speaking.
Ihe corridor separates two patios, a foun-
lain almost hidden by flowers and foliage
relaying in each, diffusing myriads of dia-
monds in the sunshine. A part of the
Building was commenced in the time of
Cortes (about 1535), and happily the an-
itique feature? have been preserved. The
treat hand-hewn timbers and massive
masonry show few evidences of the spoils
Ipf time. Flowers are everywhere, set in
inuaint Mexican pots (jardiniers sounds
altogether too modern), and an old stone
image, a relic of pre-historic times, occu-
pies a position near the entrance. From
jthe roof garden, where are also plants in
.
Hi. A PORTION OF THE OLD BUILDINGS ON
THE CORTES HACIENDA.
>B. MAGUEY PLANT, FROM WHICH PUL-
QUE IS OBTAINED.
3. FRANCISCAN CHURCH,, SEVERAL CEN-
TURIES OLD, IN THE SAME ENCLOSURE
WITH CORTES CATHEDRAL. A NUM-
BER OF TOMBS EITHER SIDE OF EN-
TRANCE.
184
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
great profusion, a fine view of the citj
and surrounding country may be had.
But, attractive as this hotel is, I mus
not neglect other places of interest.
After lunch we ordered horses, and ac
companied by an ex-member of the Lon
don Guards (I only quote his word fo
this, for his riding gave no evidence of th
fact), we set forth. The Falls of »
Anton hardly seem worth the climbing
necessary to get a view of them, so wi
ride on, between rows of fruit laden trees
with here and there the red coffee berrie
showing among the green to the potteries
The pottery made here is among the pret
tiest in Mexico, but unfortunately for m
little of the \vork is done during the raiD]
season, and we did not see its manufac-
ture. However, we see evidences of i:
about the little nuebla, composed of adotx
huts set picturesquely among the trees
and we find many pretty pieces for sale
in the town.
The next visit is to the "Victory Stone/'
a huge boulder with a flag design carved
on one of its faces. I have been unable
to learn anything definite about this, bul
it is supposed to be commemorative of
some long passed battle.
In the evening, resting in the great easy
chairs, with the electric stars gleaming out
from among the foliage, we are regaled
with good instrumental and vocal music
by a native orchestra, and I feel tha
am in a happy dream, my only care be:
the fear of waking.
In the morning we mount again
start out through the narrow, serpenti
streets toward Atlaltemulco, a sugar ha
enda founded by Cortes, and still owned
by his descendents. Sugar was ^
manufactured here about a hundred years
before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth,
and the same crude methods are employed
to-day. The old buildings, forming a
hollow square about a patio, look as though
they might serve their present purpose
for a thousand vears to come.
4. A PART OP THE WALL SURROUNDING
THE CORTES CATHEDRAL, SHOWING
SEVERAL TOMBS.
5. A STREET IN CUEBNAVACA, SHOWING
THE CORTES PALACE ACROSS THE
END.
(5. A MEXICAN PATIO.
THE TEIP TO CUEKNAVACA.
185
To reach this hacienda, we pass over
the remains of one of the old stone paved
roads,, hundreds of miles of which were
built during the Cortes regime, now prac-
tically impassable for any style of vehi-
[le. It is to be hoped they were kept in
Letter repair in those early days, other-
vise El Sr. Don Cortes must have suf-
fered some severe joltings.
"Returning, we make a detour through
pore of the beautiful fruit-lined lanes to
kcapacingo, the country home of Maxi-
milian. A most picturesque little chapel
itands near the entrance to the grounds,
where fruit trees of various kinds, coffee,
etc., grow in wild profusion, and what
pnce served as the home of an Emperor
s now devoted to the practical occupa-
tion of chicken raising. "Thus are the
nighty fallen."
Cuernavaca boasts a number of old
puildings, the most important of which
are the Cortes Palace, now the State Capi-
tol, and the Cortes Cathedral, which is
the most imposing of the many churches
pf the place. I was shown through thi
Former building by a genial old native,
\vho pointed out with apparent pride por-
traits of many of Mexico's great men, and
explained the use of each room, my know-
edge of Spanish being sufficient to enable
tne to understand most of what he said.
Vluch to my surprise, he refused a "pro—
sina," which is about as un-Mexican as
my thing I can imagine, but I have since
earned that onides in the public build-
nsrs here are not allowed to accept gratui-
ties.
A chapter should be devoted to the
churches of Mexico, and I will leave them
for a future letter. Many are several cen-
turies old, quaint in architecture, outlines
iind colorings softened by age, and. to me
|verv beautiful. No Indian puebla is too
diminutive to have its chapel, and many
small towns possess church buildings that
koulo grace a large city. Cuernavaca has
per full quota of these interesting old
Structures.
A well kept plaza is found in every vil-
lage, the larger places usually designat-
•• TITE SIMPLE LIFE.
P. PORTION OP PATIO OF MORELOS HOTEL.
:). <;':\KI;AL VIEW OF CUERNAVACA CORTES
CATHEDRAL AT THE LEFT.
-i v
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CONTENTS FOR SEPTEMBER, 1907
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Overland Monthly
No. 3
SEPTEMBER, 1907
Vol. L
BATTLESHIP OHIO.
DEFENDING THE PACIFIC COAST
AN EXPLANATION FOR THE GREAT MILITARY
AND NATAL MANEUVRES IN THE WEST
BY
ARTHUR H. BUTTON
Late Lieutenant U. S. Navy.
ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS.
TRANGELY enough,
the misnamed Pacific
Ocean is now the
scene of the greatest
military activities in
the world. Far from
being pacific, this
ocean promises to be-
come the scene of the world's greatest
struggles of the future, just as the Medit-
erranean sea was their scene in the past.
The immediate cause for this is the
long-predicted awakening of the Orient
from its lethargv of centuries. This awak-
ening has already commenced with Japan
which, within two generations, has taken
her. place among the great powers. China
will follow next, and when that leviathan
reaches the stage of progress reached by
Japan, events passing the power of the
imagination to conceive will take place.
That the Pacific Ocean is destined to
play the leading part in the coming great
wars is fully appreciated by the United
States, which will naturally be the first
to feel the awakening. The Navy De-
partment at Washington has long foreseen
the imperative need for strengthening our
MONITOR MONTEREY.
Pacific fleet, and exactly a year ago it
was well known that a "force of battle-
ships was about to be sent to this coast.
Then came the Japanese school incident,
and it was deemed impolitic to reinforce
the Pacific fleet until that incident was
closed. Now, a sufficient time after the
settling of the school incident, it is offi-
cially announced that the main battleship
fleet of the Atlantic, together with an
armored cruiser division, with numerous
smaller auxiliary vessels, will reach the
Pacific Ocean this winter. This will at
once give the United States the vitally im-
portant military command of the Pacific
Ocean, for no nation in the world save
Great Britain can muster a fleet suffi-
ciently powerful to defeat this Atlantic
fleet, which is composed of the flower of
our navy, as regards both material and
personnel.
The Atlantic battleship fleet which will
come to the Pacific is composed of the
modern, up-to-date battleships Connecti-
cut, Louisiana, Maine, Missouri, Georgia,
New Jersey, Rhode Island, Virginia, Ala-
bama, Illinois, Kearsarge, Kentucky,
Ohio, Minnesota, Kansas and Vermont,
to which will be added the Nebraska and
the Wisconsin, already in Puget Sound,
making a fleet of eighteen first-class, mod-
ern battleships, in excellent condition.
Already in the Pacific, in Oriental
waters, are the fine armored cruisers West
Virginia, Colorado, Maryland and Penn-
sylvania. Their two sister ships, the
California and the South Dakota, are
now on this coast, and the still more pow-
erful Washington and Tennessee are on
their way f rom the Atlantic to join them,
making eight powerful armored cruisers
to add to the eighteen battleships. Of
course, there are already in the Pacific
several protected cruisers, gunboats and
other lesser craft, but still more will ac-
company the battleship fleet hither.
This concourse of warships will of it-
self be more powerful than the entire
Japanese navy, which is the navy in the
Pacific which has a fleet of any strength.
In a word, with the arrival of 'the Atlan-
tic battleship fleet in the Pacific Ocean,
that great body of water will be domi-
nated by the United States, for as every
tyro knows, command of the sea is the
key to success in war between maritime
nations.
Even with this great movement of war
DEFENDING THE PACIFIC COAST.
201
vessels from the Atlantic to the Pacific,
the former will not be left unguarded.
There will still remain the new Missis-
sippi and Idaho, the old Iowa, Massa-
chusetts and Indiana, on the Atlantic sta-
tion. But what is of greater importance,
new battleships of greater and greater
power, are being steadily turned out from
Eastern shipyards, to be added as com-
pleted to the Atlantic fleet, which, in ad-
dition to the five relatively weak battle-
ships already named, will have, within a
year, the great Michigan, South Caro-
lina and New Hampshire, and within
three years, the three monster 20,000 ton
vessels of the new Constitution class,
which will be even more powerful than
the much-vaunted British Dreadnaught
and the Japanese Satsuma and Aki. More
armored cruisers are also being con-
structed in the East.
The Atlantic fleet, which, will soon be-
come the Pacific fleet, has been undergo-
ing severe and unremitting drills,
manoeuvres and target practice for many
months, until it is now in the highest
state of efficiency. The marksmanship of
the American navy is better than that of
any other nation of the world, some of
the record shooting being little less than
marvelous.
Taken altogether, the new disposition
of the ships of the American Xavy means
security for the Pacific Coast from attack
by any nation. An important point,
which seems to have been missed by most
writers on the subject is that the pres-
ence of a powerful fleet in the Pacific will
insure the retention of our outlying coal-
ing and repair stations, such as those in
Hawaii and the Philippines. If any of
these were threatened, the fleet could be
despatched to them to drive off the at-
tacking ships. Even if they should fait
before a sudden onslaught, they would
not remain long in the enemy's hands, for
we could retake them in a short time.
However, these depots are now being for-
tified so that they would probably be able
to stand off an attacking fleet until the
arrival of our own.
It must be admitted that in torpedo
vessels, the United States is inferior to
Japan. In the Japanese Navy there are
54 destroyers, 79 torpedo boats and five
submarines, while the American navy pos-
sesses but sixteen destroyers, 33 torpedo
boats and 12 submarines. All of the
MONITOR WYOMING
202
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
Japanese torpedo fleet are in the Pacific
Ocean, where the United States navy has
but eight destroyers, four torpedo boats
and two submarines.
Still, it must be borne in mind that the
experiences of the Spanish-American war
and of the Eusso-Japanese war prove
conclusively that the torpedo boat is a
much over-rated weapon. They are of
great value for certain things, such as
reconnoitering, making sudden dashes un-
der cover of fog or darkness, and for giv-
ing the coup-de-grace to large vessels al-
ready disabled by gun fire. They are but
auxiliary to the larger ships, just as light
destined for the Pacific fleet; a few small
cruisers and gunboats and the torpedo
fleet mentioned.
The United States Pacific fleet alone,
when the vessels ordered here arrive, will
consist of the following:
Battleships (18) — Connecticut, Kan-
sas, Louisiana, Vermont, Virginia, Geor-
gia, New Jersey, Rhode Island, Alabama,
Illinois, Kentucky, Kearsarge, Ohio,
Maine, Missouri, Minnesota, Wisconsin,
Nebraska.
Armored cruisers (8) — West Virginia,
Maryland, Pennsylvania, Colorado, Cali-
fornia, South Dakota^ Washington, Ten-
GUARD MOUNT AND INSPECTION AT THE PRESIDIO.
cruisers, gunboats, colliers and repair
ships are auxiliary to them. The battle-
ships and big cruisers are the mainstays
and backbone of a navy. Our inferiority
in torpedo craft is far more than compen-
sated for by our superiority in all other
classes of vessels. Japan's whole navy,
now afloat, comprises but 17 battleships,
many of which are old, such as some of
those captured from Russia and refitted;
34 large armored or protected cruisers,
not one of which is the equal of any of
the eight American armored cruisers now
nessee.
First class protected cruisers (3) —
Charleston, Milwaukee, St. Louis.
Second class protected cruisers (9) —
Chattanooga, Cincinnati, Galveston, Ra-
leigh, Denver, Cleveland, Chicago, Al-
bany, New Orleans.
Gunboats, sea-going (3) — 'Princeton,
Helena, Wilmington.
Armored coast defense vessels (3) —
Monterey, Monadnock, Wyoming.
The battleship Oregon is now undergo-
ing an extensive overhauling, and within
PRACTICE WITH MOUNTAIN HOWITZERS
a year will be added to the Pacific fleet,
making nineteen first class battleships in
all. Excluding the Oregon, however, it
will be seen at once that before the end of
this year, the Pacific fleet will consist of
29 armored vessels, most of them heavy,
modern, powerful battleships and armored
cruisers, the entire fleet, exclusive of tor-
pedo and other auxiliary craft, number-
ing 44 sea-going fighting ships.
That the total battery power of this
great fleet is enormous may be realized
when it is considered that the fleet carries
74 12-inch guns, 12 10-inch, 118 8-inch,
and several hundred guns of lesser cali-
bre. The weight of metal that the com-
bined fleet can throw is a matter for the
imagination to attack.
So much for the naval factor of the de-
fense of the Pacific Coast.
As for the army factor, it is comforting
to know that San Francisco is, with the
exception of New York, the most strongly
fortified city in the country. Its batteries
are ample, well placed and heavily armed.
and its harbor is divided into fields, which
can be strewn with submarine mines at
two days' notice. At the Presidio, Fort
Miley. Fort Baker and Point Bonita, guns
of the heaviest calibre — 12-inch — are
mounted on disappearing carriages; 12-
inch mortars are placed at several places
in pits, where they cannot be reached by
an enemy's shot, however powerful ; 8 inch
and 5-inch rapid-fire guns are mounted
in advantageous places for engaging at
close range, and an admirable system of
lange finding and fire control has been
installed. Puget Sound is also thorough-
ly fortified, its narrow waters being
fringed with batteries carrying guns of
high power. Forts Flagler, Worden, Co-
lumbia and Casey are strong strategic po-
sitions, well armed. At the entrance to
the Columbia river is Fort Stevens, up-
to-date and well armed, but it is thought
that other batteries might with advantage
be placed at this important entrance. San
Diego is defended by Fort Eosecrans, and
with this the list of Pacific Coast ports
which are provided with fortifications
ends. Puget Sound, Portland, San Fran-
cisco and San Diego are the only ports
on the coast which can stand an enemy
off until the arrival of a relieving fleet.
An enemy, in the absence of a fleet, can
land anywhere on the Pacific Coast he
likes, except at the places named, pro-
vided, of course, that our navy permits
him to reach our shores.
At the principal ports along the coast
plans have been perfected for the speedy
laying of submarine mines, the great effi-
cacy of which was so well demonstrated
204
OVERLAID MONTHLY.
during the Russo-Japanese war. Hundreds
of mines are stored away in secure places,
and there are torpedo companies included
in the coast artillery, composed of men
specially trained in the handling of mines.
One manifest weakness of our coast de-
fense, particularly on the Pacific Coast, is
the scarcity of trained artillerymen. Mod-
ern ordnance is complicated, and requires
expert artisans and mechanicians not only
for its use but for its preservation in a
high state of efficiency. Although the ar-
tillery corps was increased by Congress
at its last session, the increase was still
far below the needs of the service. Even
with the increase, the coast fortifications
are barely manned when every company
is called out. In time of war, when re-
liefs must be furnished for the guns, there
would be no reserve upon which to call.
It was due to an appreciation of this
fact that the War Department has called
upon the National Guard to act as a re-
serve for the coast defenses. For several
years, in the East, the experiment has
been found successful, and within the last
two months the National Guardsmen of
California have been mobilized at the for-
tifications of San Francisco and at San
Diego, where they have received instruc-
tion in the handling of the artillery, large
and small, at the various batteries.
The Second, Fifth and Seventh regi-
ments of infantry of the California Na-
tional Guard, were called out and for
over two weeks had practical exercise?
with modern ordnance. The zeal and pro-
ficiency they displayed won for them the
highest praise from the regular officers
and men, who were pleased to find that
such good material existed for them to
call upon should hostilities occur. Day
after day, the militiamen participated ic
all the acts that would be performed
should an attack be made upon San Fran-
cisco. There were simulations of attacks
from seaward, both by day and by night,
during which the heavy guns were brought
into play, and the mortar batteries dis-
charged at proper times.
These mortar batteries are among the
most interesting details of the coast de-
MACHINE OUNS IN ACTION".
DEFENDING THE PACIFIC COAST.
205
fenses. They are in pits, and are used
for high angle fire. No shot can strike
them, for they are far below the surface
of the hillocks in which they are placed.
So remarkable is their accuracy and so
refined the delicate instruments used in
aiming them, that the great 12-inch shells
they discharge can be dropped with pre-
cision in any chosen spot. There are
usually four mortars in each battery, all
of which may be discharged simultane-
ously, and it means disaster for any ves-
sel to receive one of these deadly projec-
so as to fall upon that spot, which they
may be depended upon to do.
Throughout the coast defense, there is
an elaborate system of inter-communica-
tion between the various batteries, range-
finders and other important points. By
means of telephones and visual signaling,
the commanding officer is in constant
touch with all of his subordinates, and
with every gun in the defenses. Fire-
control, which does not mean suppression
of conflagration, but control of the firing
from the guns, has been elaborated until
OFFICER DIRECTING MOVEMENTS THROUGH FIELD TELEPHONE.
tiles, falling from skyward, upon unar-
mored deck and plunging down into the
vitals below.
The harbor and its approaches are di-
vided into a large number of rectangles,
each of which is numbered and its exact
distance and bearing known to the offi-
cers in charge of the mortar batteries.
When a ship is seen entering, say, rec-
tangle 365, that number is telephoned to
the mortar batteries commanding the rec-
tangle, and the mortars are quickly aimed
now the entire method of fire is actually
under the thumb of the commanding offi-
cer. There is no firing at will unless he
so desires H.
Recently it has been decided to enlarge
the Benicia arsenal, with a view of carry-
ing on there the manufacture of ammuni-
tion and other military supplies on a
larger scale than ever before. This ar-
senal, on account of its central and con-
venient location, will then be the main
ammunition depot of the Pacific Coast.
VISUAL SIGNALING "WIG-WAG"" SYSTEM.
FIELD ARTILLERY ON THE MARCH.
MY PLACE.
207
At the present time, there are stationed
in the States of Washington, Oregon and
California, twenty-seven companies of
coast artillery, of which one is a torpedo
company; three batteries of light artil-
lery; two batteries of mountain artillery;
one company of the hospital corps; one
company of the signal corps; ten troops
of cavalry, and four regiments of ,infan-
try. There are also two battalions of
infantry in Alaska and one in Hawaii.
This represents a total of about 11,000
regular troops now stationed on the
Pacific Coast. In time of war, this num-
ber would have to be increased to 100,000
at once, for defensive purposes alone; to
man the permanent fortifications and to
have an army to repel an invasion until
the navy could arrive to defeat it.
It is almost impossible, however, to im-
agine any serious attempt being made to
attack any Pacific Coast town, unless by
a sudden raid, which might do damage,
but would not last long enough to work
any permanent injury to the coast. The
arrival of the great Atlantic fleet of bat-
tleships insures that no formidable ex-
pedition can reach our shores in a short
time, if at all.
There is, too, that great factor of war-
fare, wealth, on our side of the Pacific
Ocean. Money is needed in vast quantities
in war, and no nation has quite as much
wealth, actual and potential, as the United
States. The only hope that another na-
tion could have in the way of recouping
its treasury would be by securing a great
indemnity from the United States, but
that would mean defeat for this country.
Defeat can only come if we neglect our
navy and permit it to fall into ineffi-
ciency. As long as we have a strong, alert,
efficient navy, we can retain the command
of the Pacific Ocean, and having this com-
mand, we can regard any warlike demon-
strations in the Pacific with composure.
It is another important and fortunate
fact for the United States that we are
self-reliant in every military sense. We
do not have to go abroad for ships, guns,
food or money. Every kind of arm and
munition of war is found right in this
country. We have our own shipyards,
our own armor factories, our own gun
foundries, our own ammunition depots.
We can build the largest ships and guns
and do not have to go abroad to float our
public loans. Our own people quickly
•snap up our war bonds.
Doubtless there will be great wars
waged on the waters of the Pacific Ocean
in the future, with the great changes
brought by the awakening of the Orient
and the competition between Occidental
nations for the Orient's trade. Doubtless,
the United States will take a hand in some
of these great conflicts but by maintaining
our naval supremacy the conflicts will be
fewer and shorter, and above all, it is
not probable that the severe fighting will
be on our own coast. It will take place
farther West.
MY PLACE
BY MABEL PORTER PITTS
I watch the sunshine on the distant fields,
I feel the glory of a moonlit sky,
And know by vague desire which through me steals
That not a cause, but pensioner am I.
>.
r /
mft;:.. -ffflftM'/, i'' I
^/••i:;:MmW." ' li-v-iiA.-/
HON. JOS. B. FORAKER, UNITED STATES SENATOR OF OHIO.
Drawn by R. W. Borough.
HIGH POLITICS IN OHIO
BY
WASHINGTON DAVIS
Author of "Camp-Fire Chats of the Civil War," "The Syndic,"
Literary Associate of Huhert Howe Bancroft.
DRAWING BY R. W. BOROUGH.
and
T'S GETTING warm
in Ohio politics.
California's view of
the Foraker-Taf t fight
there may be ex-
pressed in a few blunt
words, based on the
positive facts of the
personal political history of the United
States Senator as compared with that of
the Secretary of War. One short para-
graph will do for each. Both are natives
of Ohio.
"William Howard Taft, born in Hamil-
ton County, Ohio, 1857, was appointed as-
sistant prosecuting attorney in 1881 ; ap-
pointed collector of internal revenue by
President Arthur, 1882; appointed by
Governor (now United States Senator)
Foraker, Judge of the Superior Court "of
Cincinnati, 1887; appointed Solicitor-
General by President Harrison in 1890;
appointed president of the United States
Philippine Commission by President Mc-
Kinley in 1900; appointed civil governor
of Philippine Islands by President Mc-
Kinley in 1901; appointed Secretary of
War by President Eoosevelt, 1904."—
Congressional Directory.
Now, with due respect to the Secretary
of War, let us look at the record of the
United States Senator:
"Joseph Benson Foraker was born July
5, 1846, on a farm near Eainsboro, High-
land County, Ohio; enlisted July 14, 1862,
as a private in Co. A. 89th Ohio Vol. In-
fantry, with which he served until close
of war, at which time he held rank of 1st
Lieutenant and brevet Captain; was
graduated from Cornell University,
Ithaca, N. Y., July 1, 1869; admitted to
the bar and entered on practice of law
in Cincinnati, Ohio, Oct. 14, 1869: was
elected Judge of the Superior Court of
Cincinnati April, 1879; resigned on ac-
count of ill health May 1, 1882; was the
Eepublican candidate for Governor of
Ohio in 1883, but was defeated; was elect-
ed to that office in 1885, and re-elected in
1887; again nominated and defeated in
1889; was chairman of the Eepublican
State Conventions of Ohio for 1886, 1890,
1896, and 1900, and a delegate at large
from Ohio to the National Eepublican
Conventions in 1884, 1888, 1892, 1896,
1900 and 1904; was chairman of the Ohio
delegation in the conventions of 1884 and
1888, and presented to both of these con-
ventions the name of the Hon. John Sher-
man for nomination to the Presidency;
in the conventions of 1892 and 1896 served
as chairman of the Committee on Eesolu-
tions, and as such reported the platform
each time to the conventions; presented
the name of Wm. McKinley to the conven-
tions of 1896 and 1900 for nomination to
the Presidency ; was elected United States
Senator January 15, 1896, to succeed Cal-
vin S. Brice, and took his seat Ma-rch 4,
1897; was re-elected January 15, 1902, to
succeed himself. His term of service will
expire March 3, 1909." — Congressional
Directory.
Thus, while the Honorable Secretary of
War has always been appointed to every-
thing, never elected to anything, the Hon-
orable United States Senator has been
Governor of his own State twice; is now
210
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
his own state's senior senator, serving
his second term; nominated McKinley
both times, and appointed the present
Secretary of War to a Judgeship.
These ase the facts. From this side of
the Great Divide, it appears like a case of
Foraker vs. No. 2. Taft has always played
second fiddle, even when President Roose-
velt did all he could to take him from the
Philippines and put him upon the Su-
preme Bench of the United States.
High politics in Ohio and some other
places are now being cut and dried for the
next national Eepublican nomination, and
whoever gets it is to be supported by all
good Republicans; but California often
skips a lot of details when wishing a de-
sired end. We were made a State without
going through any territorial process, and
we like Ohio all right, but we prefer to
deal with men who are and have been
elected rather than those who have been
appointed.
It's Foraker vs. No. 2. Though Taft
might make a good president, he would
still be No. 2, for we've had one Fat
President already.
Senator Foraker, as the facts of history
prove, has always been No. 1 or nothing,
generally No. 1. I think he ought to be
President of the United States.
California wants no No. 2's either in
National, State or Municipal administra-
tions.
NEGLECT
BY
W. G. TINCKOM-FERKA^DEZ
IF Time the reaper brushed his sleeves of gray
Through this old garden, bidding me request
Some trifle of the weeds that all unguessed
Long flourished here, I know what I would say.
Into this garden on an autumn day
There came a man bound for the weary West,
Who spake me fair, and paused to be my guest,
Grew warm beside my fire, and went his way.
But never more I saw him : Dark years fled,
And often I recalled the pleasant hour
We lonely souls had spent; and soon there grew
Eegret upon regret, for then I knew
We might have been good friends — But now that flower
In my garden blooms, and — he is dead.
NEW HOME FOR AGED AND INFIRM ON THE ALMSHOUSE TRACT.
SPENDING $9,181,403.23
THE FIRST ACCURATE ACCOUNT OF THE SAN
FRANCISCO RELIEF FUND AND ITS
ACTUAL DISBURSEMENT
BY
WINNIFRED MEARS
ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS.
There have been many published articles on the distribution of the funds
which flowed so generously into San Francisco immediately after the disaster of
April, 1906. But the actual account of how every dollar was spent has been until
now withheld from the people of this city. We are glad, therefore, to publish the
following account of what was really done with the nine million dollars sub-
scribed by the world for the relief of the city's sufferers. — EDITOR.
UGH HAS been written
and read of San
Francisco and its dis-
aster of April 18,
1906. The calamity,
unparalleled in his-
tory, the indescrib-
able mass of fugitives
made homeless by the fire, the excep-
tional bravery of these 200,000 men and
women, confronting an uncertain future
with smiling and determined faces — all
have had their share of wonderment and
commendation.
The resumption of commercial and
business activities of the city has been
of equal interest and importance, but of
the actual work done by the Kehabilita-
tion Committee, and what was accom-
plished by the disbursement of the Re-
lief Funds, the public at large has had
little, if any, account of.
Never in history have greater demands
been made upon the sympathy and gen-
erosity of this nation, and the methods
to be used in disbursing the millions do-
nated in such a manner as to accomplish
the most good and least injury to Ihe self-
respect of families hitherto independent,
needed wise and grave consideration, and
called for a committee endowed not alone
with necessary finances, but with a keen
knowledge of human nature and much
experience in dealing with men.
212
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
This ".Relief" comprised the relief sup-
plies, the Congressional appropriation,
and the direct and local subscriptions,
with those of the Amercan National Bed
Cross and its branches — in all, $9,181,-
403.23 (of which $312,035.82 was for-
eign.)
The first important problems of food
and clothing solved by the distribution of
the relief supplies to the long lines of
patient and hungry refugees, the next es-
sential feature presented was the provid-
ing of adequate shelter in the relief camps
for these homeless thousands. The $2-
500,000 Congressional appropriation was
disbursed by the United States army, un-
der the direction of the Headquarters of
the Pacific Division, during the emergency
period of April and May, 1906, and also
in the following months of June and July,
1906, during which time it was possible
to administer relief in a more systematic
way. This money provided food and
porated, with a board of twenty-one direc-
tors and an executive committee of five,
with James D. Phelan president, F. W.
Dohrmann vice-president, and J. Downey
Harvey secretary, which has carried on
the work to the present time, through its
fire departments.
Commencing in the month of Septem-
ber, 1906, the thirteen camps which had
been "under canvas" were changed from
the "tent" to "cottage" camps. These
cottages, size fourteen by sixteen feet,
contain two rooms, others three rooms, and
were erected by the Lands and Buildings
Department. The maximum population
of these permanent camps has been about
seventeen thousand.
In all the camps, the cottages are oc-
cupied by self-supporting families or
widows with children. The small sum of
$2 per room per month has been paid by
the occupants, not as rent, but held by the
corporation, and now being refunded to
SOME REFUGEE SHACKS NOT UNDER THE CORPORATION.
clothing, bedding, tenting and medicinal
supplies for the relief camps and for the
transportation of them, and for the mov-
ing of troops.
On July 20, 1906, the "San Francisco
Relief and "Red Cross Funds" was incor-
the occupants at such time as they move
their cottage to a lot, either leased or
owned by them. These camps were es-
tablished mostly in the public parks and
on leased land.
In some of the camps the element is
JOHN E. EMERY.
RABBI VOORSAJSTGER.
FATHER CROVVLEY.
largely Italian, in others Oriental. No
single men were granted cottages, as the
existing high wages were considered suffi-
cient to afford room rent and have ample
funds for living expenses.
The occupants of the camps could be
called "certified refugees" — those who
were burned out, those shaken out, and
those raised out by excessive rents; base-
ments which formerly could be had for
$10 to $12 now demanding $40 to $50.
Each camp was supplied with sterilized
water, wash-houses with hot and cold run-
ning water, and bath-houses with shower
baths of both hot and cold running water.
In a few camps, bath-tubs were also
placed. The sanitation of the camps was
excellent, the sewer, water system and
drainage being carefully arranged. Am-
ple numbers of fire extinguishers, ladders,
axes and hose wagons are visible as a
precaution for frequent small blazes. In
fact, they are model camps.
An amusing incident is related of an
Italian family who, although they insisted
that they had been "burned out," when
they appeared to take possession of a
camp cottage, had eight express-wagon
loads of household goods. The comfort
and cleanliness of the cottages had ap-
pealed too strongly to them !
The thirteen camps of self-supporting
families are of especial interest and exem-
plify a harmony of organization and disci-
pline. Probably never before had some of
this class lived in cleanliness and com-
fort, nor were able to earn such high
wages. In place of ill-ventilated tene-
ment houses, each family had its own
tiny cottage, with the ultimate hope of
owning not only a roof over their heads,
but the lot on which it will eventually
stand, for among the poorer classes the
problem of rent (whether for house or
room), sometimes takes precedence over
the amount to be used for food and cloth-
ing. Truly, a great calamity is not with-
out its compensation — at least to some.
The Park Commissioners have re-
quested that the Relief Corporation assist
in moving the refuge cottages from the
public squares to permanent sites between
August 1st and 17th, 1907, or as soon
after as possible. This notice, printed in
seferal languages has been distributed
through the camps. About fifty per cent
of the refugees already own lots, upon
which to move their homes, and about
seven hundred have already done so. The
total number of cottages has been reduced
to about five thousand five hundred at
present. What arrangements will be
214
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
FIRST REFUGEE COTTAGE BUILT IN SAN
FEANOISCO BY FATHER CROWLEY
AND JAMES RALPH, JR.
made for those who cannot move is one of
the problems left for the corporation to
unravel; however, the issue of meal tick-
ets was reduced in six weeks' time from
twenty thousand eight hundred and sixty-
seven a day to one thousand four hundred
and ninety-seven a day, and thus will all
the relief camps be closed and the parks
be cleared.
The Ingleside Home for Aged and In-
firm, of all the camps, is the most unique,
with its twenty-four adjacent buildings to
be used gratuitously by the corporation for
the purpose of housing refugees, so old or
infirm that they could not work, or those
who were temporarily unable to work as a
result of illness or accident. There were
about one thousand inmates, but less than
six hundred now, some of whom will
eventually become public charges. These
buildings, formerly the shelter for the
finest of race horses, were changed into
very comfortable abodes. Each stall was
floored, and the dividing walls covered
with unbleached muslin, and in each
building hot and cold water was installed,
also one or more large stoves for heating
purposes. Several buildings were devoted
solely to the poor old ladies, some to the
aged men and others to married couples.
Still other buildings were converted into
a chapel, an assembly hall, a store-house,
a butcher shop, blacksmith shop, cobbler's,
dining hall, dispensary, hospital and laun-
dry, each and all well heated and supplied
with electricity. The chapel has its or-
gan, the assembly hall its stage and piano,
books and tables. Several times a week
the different charitable organizations hold
various entertainments for the refugees.
The sewing cottage has five or six ma-
chines for the use of those able to make
their own garments. There is even a cob-
bler to mend their old shoes, who receives
SI a day and material.
The food furnished is good and well
cooked. Each building is perfect in its
order and cleanliness, and regular inspec-
tions are held every week. New inmates
were furnished with changes of under-
wear, as well as the outside clothing, and
on Wednesdays the old men receive a
given portion of tobacco. While some re-
pented the idea of going to Ingleside at
first, as synonymous with the Almshouse,
yet ivh&n there, are quite content, and
spend much time roaming over the fields
of beautiful golden poppies and basking
in the glorious California sunshine. The
Ingleside improvements cost $26,737.95.
The maintenance of Ingleside camp
has been a little less than 50 cents a head
per day. By October 15th or November
1st, the refugees will be moved to the new
Home for the Aged and Infirm, now in
process of completion on the Almshouse
tract. To many this move will be the last
fall of pride, and some few who are able
to work even a little are saving their pen-
nies, so that when the dreaded day arrives
they can again face the world as self-re-
liant citizens.
This new Home for the Aged and In-
firm will cost about $200,000, and is built
in the form of an exact "E," on the crest
of a hill flanked by the Sutro forests, with
the Twin Peaks in the distance, and fac-
ing a magnificent view of the Pacific to
the west. The building will be 502 feet
long by about 350 feet wide, contains ten
wards, arranged in five buildings to a
side, each accessible to the other. There
will be two hundred and forty rooms, and
the building can house about two thou-
sand people.
The expense of water and plumbing has,
perhaps, been sacrificed to "view" — a fact
which the inmates of the future will en-
joy, because of the chosen site on a hill.
There will be two dining rooms, one
40x150, and the other 36x96, and a
SPENDING $9,181,403.23.
215
kitchen 76 feet square. Besides this, there
will be one thousand feet of covered porch,
seven hundred feet of it enclosed with
glass. This building will contain, prob-
ably, the most complicated plumbing con-
struction of any building in the city.
The operative expenses of the camps
and warehouse was $566,370.14, including
Ingleside and South Park. Mr. Eudolph
Spreckels was chairman of the Camps and
Warehouses department.
From a rough census, taken in April,
1907, approximately twelve thousand peo-
ple (of which 20 per cent were single
men) were found housed in shacks and
tents, outside of the permanent camps.
The greatest number were found in the
Mission district. The sanitary conditions
were shocking, and in striking contrast
with the camps under the supervision of
the Eelief Corporation. Some of these
houses are fairly comfortable, and have
been built on leased land, signifying
the occupants' intention to remain in-
definitely. The Eelief Corporation
ceased on April 1, 1907, to grant money
monthly to the city for the payment of
sanitary inspectors under the city depart-
ment of public health, only continuing
contributions for the permanent camps.
The money spent by the Lands and
Buildings Department, Thomas Magee,
chairman, was $1,690,604.60, of which
about $490,000 was used for the '"bonus
plan."
(A bonus was offered to any one
building in the burned district, the bonus
to be a third of the cost of a house, but no
bonus to exceed $500. No stipulation
was placed on the cost of the house.)
The eight hundred applicants for the
last one hundred thousand proved the
success of the plan.
The improvements on the Ingleside
buildings, the erection of the new Home
for the Aged and Infirm, the building of
the cottages on the public squares and the
nineteen apartment houses at South Park,
reflect great credit on the "Lands and
Buildings" Departments. The cost of the
nineteen apartment houses at the South
Park camp was $38,627.24, averaging
$2,000 each.
The six thousand cottages were built at
an average cost of $100 for two rooms and
$150 for three rooms, including plumb-
ing.
The buying and transporting of the
lumber to the city for the cottages was ac-
complished with great difficulty under the
conditions existing at that time. Ground
was broken in September, 1906, and there
were enough cottages to house the refugees
in camp before the winter rains com-
menced.
The Department of Eelief and Ee-
habilitation, F. W. Dohrmann, chairman,
disbursed $3,020,000 for rehabilitation of
individuals and families.
The work of this bureau was divided
among seven sections, one member of the
Eelief Committee acting as chairman of
each section. The expenses were $331,
430.73.*
A large number of men and women who
had been connected with charity work be-
fore the fire volunteered their time and
services to this committee for the admin-
istering and apportionment of the special
relief funds. Their assistance was given
untiringly and unselfishly, for one long
year, totally ivithout compensation of any
sort whatsoever, except the gratitude and
appreciation of the citizens, and their own
vital interest in relieving suffering and
want; or civic pride in work well done.
These sections handled twenty-eight
thousand five hundred and four applica-
tions for aid, which were passed upon by
at least one member of the Committee of
Seven. The grants ranged from $20 to
$300. The average was $100.
To some of the applicants, "investiga-
tion" was looked upon as an injustice;
nevertheless it remains a necessary evil,
for this system prevented possible dupli-
cation and imposition, and secured to the
needy necessary aid
Pleas varied, from the old woman who
wanted "a piano to rest her soul at night '
after a hard day's washing, to the woman
who appeared with a soup tureen, having
heard that something was to be given
away; she did not know whether it would
be wet or dry, so came prepared.
To some it was a temptation to de-
ceive, and the investigators were necessar-
ily careful in eliminating frauds. Few
"This $331,430.73 includes the $165,144.88 for
the Bureau of Hospitals; the $58,330.30 for the
Bureau of Special Relief; and the $35,902.52 for
the Industrial Centers.
216
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
grants were made to those able to find
suitable employment, unless death or ill-
ness had proved an additional burden.
The arduous duties of the Transporta-
tion Committee, 0. K. Gushing, chair-
man, can be realized in the days when the
line of applicants extended more than
half way down the block. In one instance
a man appeared who had the day before
been granted transportation to Seattle,
and when asked why he returned, replied
that he wished to return it to purchase a
half-fare ticket, money having been re-
ceived by him in the morning's mail. He
had stood patiently, the additional four
Gallwey, chairman, disbursed $253,833.
About two thousand applications were re-
ceived, and the average grant made was
$127. Most of these were from people
over sixty years of age, about sixty per
cent of whom enjoyed good health, and
could be rehabilitated in a small way in
order to become self-supporting. (Less
than three per cent were sent to Ingleside
to be cared for.)
Homes for the homeless or unsupported
children were found with families — some-
times relatives, on payment of a small
sum per month for support — the grant
usually placed in trust with the Asso-
LOBOS SQUARE CAMP.
or five hours, in line waiting a second
time for conscience sake.
This section supplied aid in case of ill-
ness or emergency, when the relief re-
quired a grant of money instead of cloth-
ing or groceries.
During the "emergency period" $166,-
831.02 was disbursed, including freight,
under "Transportation," and but
$4,639.51 under the regular administra-
tion.
The section on aged and infirm, unsup-
ported children and friendless girls, Dr.
ciated Charities. Friendless girls re-
ceived assistance by providing them with
grants for clothing to equip themselves
suitably for positions. Some were aided
with money to complete their education as
bookkeepers, stenographers and training
for nurses. Many elderly people were
made comfortable by granting furniture
and necessities during the winter months,
until their condition improved — such as
those who owned their homes, and previ-
ous to the disaster had small incomes from
rentals, most of which was lost in the fire.
SPENDING $9,181,403.23.
21'
Under the section on "unsupported and
partially supported families," many were
the pathetic tales poured into the ears of
Mrs. Merrill and Mrs. Scott, and not once
did these women of character cease to
listen to the cry of "make me glad again."
Tales of a woman's hands tied by care
of large families, with sick, dissipated or
deserting husbands — cases of patient wait-
ing and of suffering, calling not only on
the committee's sympathy, but executive
ability to plan a practical solution of
pressing needs. Each and every one was
met with listening ears and helping hands
irrespective of color, race or religion. The
sad case of a handsome young woman (of
the half-world) who was given a grant
for medical treatment at a hospital, where
after the operation she died of heart fail-
ure. The funeral expenses and hospital
hills were paid and her personal effects
sent to her mother.
The amusing and pathetic case of a
Swedish widow, whose song had built a
neat three room cottage, only to find that
they had placed it upon the lot next their
own. The small wages earned by the
sons was scarcely sufficient for the in-
stallments on their lot and their frugal
meals. A grant for furniture, clothing
and the moving of their house was given
them.
A refined old colored woman and daugh-
ter were found living in a shack made
from waste lumber and boxes: the roof
tipped to one side so they could not stand
erect. They were sleeping on wooden
bunks with insufficient covering, and with
a broken camp stove to cook upon. The
mother suffered from cataract in both
eyes. The grant supplied the necessary
needs of clothing and furniture and
patched up their house.
The Confidential Section, Archdeacon
Emery, chairman, expended about $150,-
000. This work reached cases only to be
discovered through a parish priest, minis-
ter or a family physician. The tuition for
the six remaining months of a senior year
was paid -for a young Calif ornian taking
an M. D. in an Eastern college; also for
an expert librarian.
Another case provided special treatment
until cured to a young lady afflicted with
melancholia and confined in a public
ward of an asylum in a foreign country,
to which city the mother and daughter
had sought refuge with relatives after the
fire. Money was sent to a private charity
which cared for poor children, convales-
cent from typhoid fever, and insure for
them rest, fresh air and proper nourish-
ment through the summer. Relief was
given an aged scientist whose collection
was burned, and his only means of a live-
lihood taken from him.' Professors, den-
tists, lawyers and physicians were assisted
to purchase libraries and instruments.
The section on Housing and Shelter,
.Reverend Father D. 0. Crowley, chair-
man, have nearly completed 1400 houses
at an expense to the corporation of $600,-
000, the other half of the expense being
paid by the owners.
Never before in the history of San
Francisco have so many of the working
classes owned their homes. They are
scattered all over the city limits, from
Telegraph Hill to Ocean View, and from
the Richmond District to the Potrero.
The committee did not limit the cottages
to the burned district, and this wide scat-
tering will for generations to come pre-
vent the former congested districts where
the families of the "great unwashed"
lacked living space and "soul space."
Many of the hard-working laborers with
families of five to eight children are liv-
ing at .present in comfortable homes of
three, five and six rooms with bath. For-
merly they occupied one or possibly two
rooms, either in basements or at the rear
of their small shops. Their children now
play among the sand hills or grass and
flowers, in the pure, clean air, where pre-
viously these poor little wharf-rats played
in the dark alleys or cold cellars. Some
of these modest homes have already pretty
gardens of vegetables and flowers started
by the children, while the bread-winners
are at work, for there will be no lack of
employment of unskilled labor for many
years.
Mark Twain has wisely said, "No man
shoiilders a gun to fight for a boarding
house."
About one thousand six hundred appli-
cations were adjusted for business re-
habilitation, the appropriation $500,000.
Charles F. Leege, chairman. Grants were
made for the purpose of rehabilitating
numerous boarding and lodging houses.
JEFFERSON SQUARE CAMP.
metal and marble works, restaurants, deli-
catessen stores, wicker works, a tamale
restaurant, patent medicines, laundries, a
church supply store, a phonograph store,
horses and wagons for junk peddlers, gro-
ceries, butcher shops, a sausage and pickle
factory, florist, an artificial flower shop,
one application for a washing machine
was granted, Christmas tree venders, an-
tique furniture stores, fish-nets and vats
supplied; one woman started in the real
estate business; bake shops, one years' in-
stallment on pianos for music teachers
paid; a dog and bird store, instruments
for physicians and dentists and a cosmetic
shop. Among the applications came one
to establish a "hair-restorer business," the
applicant even offering "to try it on" the
bald-headed investigator. History does
not record the result.
One street sweeper wanted to become
a scavenger, and his ambition was grati-
fied. Do not let me forget the Chinaman
who was re-established as a cigar manu-
facturer, to the amount of $250; nor the
reteran of the civil war, who was given
tools for a small carpenter shop — as he
was too old to compete with younger car-
penters.
About three thousand applications for
furniture were received, and the average
grant made was $100.
The committee, believing that general
relief was no longer needed, the taking of
applications was ended on February 15,
1907, except in cases of dire want, and on
March 15th, the Application Bureau was
closed, and the Bureau of Special Relief
attended to all emergency claims. By
July 1st, all cases were adjusted, and ac-
tive work stopped, the committee leaving
any further relief to the regular chari-
table societies, and for whom there will be
work for many months. Even the Hous-
ing Committee is winding up its affairs.
The Bureau of Hospitals supplied care
to three thousand five hundred and sev-
enty-one patients, for the total expense of
$167,229.10, from April 18, 1906, to July
1, 1907, which includes the cost of sup-
plies given during the emergency period
to hospitals as part payment for medical
service rendered.
The payment of $2 a day per patient
to the seven accredited hospitals was of
great assistance to these institutions, and
helped them to meet expenses. At pres-
ent there are about 200 patients in the
hospitals, at the expense of the relief
fund. The care of patients in hospitals
SPENDING $9,181,403.23.
219
at the expense of the fund must of neces-
sity be continued as long as the permanent
camps are maintained, to avoid the spread
of contagious diseases and because the
camp cottages do not afford sufficient room
for the sick ones. The general health of
the laboring classes has been greatly im-
proved by the outdoor life.
The Bureau of Special Belief opened
August 15, 1906, and have disbursed since
then $58,330.30 to eight hundred families
in distress, for clothing, fuel, food, medi-
cine and repairing shelters: also the ap-
plications for sewing machines were in-
vestigated, and one thousand six hundred
machines, at an expense of $36,000, were
quickly distributed.
The Bureau of Industrial Centers
comprised many sewing centers,
where over seventy-five thousand gar-
ments were made, mostly by volunteer
workers. Several cutters were in paid em-
ploy. This bureau had charge of all the
social halls in the camps, and superin-
tended the kindergartens in the camps in
the mornings, the sewing classes in the
afternoons, and arranged for lectures, con-
certs and various entertainments given for
the camp refugees in the evenings.
The social halls served alike for club
and reading room, and were used im-
partially for divine service by all de-
nominations. The kindergartens and sew-
ing classes for the camp children were a
great factor for discipline during the ab-
sence of the parents at work, keeping the
little ones busy and out of mischief.
Amount, $35,902.52.
The Department of Finance, James D.
Phelan, chairman, and William Dolge,
auditor, was the machinery and backbone
of the corporation. The receipt and col-
lection of all the relief moneys, and the
filing of numerous letters demanded ex-
pediency and accuracy.
Among the letters is one filed from a
sympathetic citizen of the South, enclos-
ing seven cents and stating that this spe-
cial donation would have been larger but
for the fact that two weeks previous to the
disaster he had taken unto himself a wife,
(an expensive proposition.)
While this subscription was small, it
was not without its "strings" also, to
quote "for a poor widow with three child-
ren, the oldest three years of age/' Messrs.
Lester Herrick & Herrick, Certified Pub-
lic Accountants, maintained a continuous
audit. The expense of this department
was $63,421.43.
It is not without interest .to notice that
the entire cost of administration has been
less than four per cent — a fact that
speaks for itself.
The Department of Bills and Demands,
M. H. de Young chairman, adjusted
nearly eleven thousand claims, amounting
to $2,717,170.33 for the sum of $1,501,-
781.52 for relief supplies confiscated by
the authorities during the emergency per-
iod, and for the expense of feeding, shel-
tering and transporting the refugees, as
well as the expense for sanitation and re-
storation of the water supply.
A few more figures are of interest by
contrast: The relief of the hungry during
the emergencv period following the dis-
aster for three weeks, cost $729,752.39,
while under the regular regime the maxi-
mum cost for four weeks (July) was $75,-
756.30. Again, under the emergency, tha
relief of the sick and wounded, and for
transporting them to hospitals, cost $46,-
088.43, but during the typhoid epidemic
in September only $17,335 was used for
this purpose. Clothing (emergency) and
boots and shoes, cost $29,272.55; while
only $2,500 a month for clothes for the
Ingleside refugees was spent under the
corporation's rule. The amount of $23,-
033.36 was used for the reorganization of
the city, a small sum after so great a dis-
aster.
The relief and Rehabilitation of Hospi-
tals and Charitable Institutions cost
$355,798.05.
The merging of the relief funds with
those of the National Eed Cross was a
most wise decision, in light of the recent
municipal graft exposures, for it is cer-
tain that the money was used to the best
advantage, absolutely irrespective of re-
ligious denominations. Of the members
of the San Francisco Committee from Mr.
Phelan down, it must be said that the
selection could not have been improved
upon, for they are men of ability and in-
tegrity. This committee came together,
forgetting their own individuality and
personality, in a humane interest for the
relief of the needy and civic pride in the
betterment of their city and the relief
220
OVEBLAND MONTHLY.
policies adopted, proved a test of these
men. The committee and employees went
right into the homes of the poor people as
well as those of better circumstances, and
worked, and accomplished a great amount
of good without the hlare of trumpets.
"The good men do lives after them.*'
Let this be the monument to the Eelief
Fund Committee.
Their motive was protection of the poor,
not patronage, for relief is indemnity, not
charity. The plans to devise, methods to
employ and difficulties to overcome, often
seemed as difficult problems as the "squar-
were, of course, some mal-contents, who
wanted to get something for nothing
whether they were in need or not. It was
mainly on this account that the committee
made every effort to close their work as
soon as possible.
Of the four thousand nine hundred and
seventeen subscriptions recorded, there is
still about one million dollars outstanding,
of which $700,000 is held by the American
National Eed Cross, all of which money is
needed for the closing of relief affair^ On
account of the removing of all the refugee
camps, there is some chance that ma$y
A COTTAGE BEING MOVED.
ing of a circle," and have shown a blend-
ing of love and law. Mr. Phelan and the
committee proved that a wise and careful
administration of relief should be a part
of good government.
The amount of red tape in some in-
stances was slow, but was probably un-
avoidable. One claimant remarked that
"she earned her grant through time lost
before getting it."
One great difficulty was discriminating
among applicants who were not actually
destitute, and where investigation and re-
fusal caused much complaint. There
individuals will remain in need for some
months yet to come, and in case the camps
are not successfully moved within a few
months the committee feels that the $700,-
000 will be needed to relieve those still
in distress.
For generations to come, the blessings
of the people of San Francisco will rest
upon the heads of the donors of the re-
lief fund, whose generosity has helped
them toward faith in their city, hope for
their prosperity, and charity for their
losses and mistakes. "But the greatest of
these is charity."
CLIMI
.
ANOTE
PHOTOGRAr
HE MOUNTAIN
stands alone, majes-
tic and beautiful,
dominating land and
sea. In summer it is
veiled in a thin blue
haze, and in winter it
rises snow-covered and
clear-cut against the sky. The Japanese
love Fuji; the common coolie has its out-
line stamped on the towel that he wears
twisted about his head; it is painted on
tea cups to sell to foreigners ; it is painted
on the walls of the Kyoto palaces; it was
the favorite subject of Hokusai, the mas-
ter, and about it have grown myths, fairy
tales and poems until the mountain is
sacred to the people of Japan. We for-
eigners share in some degree the feeling
of the Japanese, and, here on the Bluff,
we climb to our attic window, sure of an
inspiring view when a chill wind blows
on a winter's morning, or when the sky is
-^^ -3.U-L.tlUK.
red at sunset. A favorite way from the
Bluff to the Settlement takes us past the
historic tea house of 0-kin-san, down the
101 steps. Here a carpenter's apprentice
may be coming up and a house coolie go-
ing down, but we all pause and stand to-
gether at the half-way place to gaze at
the "Honorable Mountain." When we
meet our friends, it is often "Good morn-
ing! Isn't it a fine day? Fuji is glori-
ous." Only during the nyubai — that in-
cessant warm June rain which makes the
rice grow — do we feel certain that all
looking is useless, that Fuji is hid behind
a curtain of gray mist.
So the mountain on the horizon made a
part of our lives each bright day until a
friend said : "Would you like to climb
Fuji?" Then we remembered a man who
had refused to make the ascent, saying
he feared to lose his respect for the moun-
tain; we remembered tales of exhausted
people being pulled to the summit by
coolies, tales of people, snow-bound in the
huts, who never reached the. top, and tales
of pilgrims blown off the slope by the
wind and dashed to pieces; nevertheless,
we made the ascent in August of last year
and all this winter, when we have seen
Fuji from the attic windows or from the
101 steps, we have recognized, in spite of
the chill wintry aloofness, a much loved
friend whom we would like to visit again.
In the middle of July, when the snow
is quite gone, the huts are opened on the
mountain side, and they remain open un-
til the middle of September. We planned
to go on the 25th of August, and forthwith
began taking long country tramps, that
our flesh might be willing, and began
reading what we could find about Fuji
that our spirits, too, might be prepared
for the climb.
First, there were facts to learn. Fuji
is 12,365 feet high, a volcano, not active,
yet not extinct, for steam still comes out of
holes near the crater, although the last
eruption was in 1707-8. A hump was
formed then on the south side, the one
break in the otherwise perfect symmetrv
of the mountain, and showers of ashes
covered the country for miles around.
MONTHLY.
There are several paths for ascending, each
divided into ten stations where one may
stop for food or to spend the night. In
the old days, women were not allowed to
climb beyond the eighth station of a sa-
cred mountain, and the first woman to
reach the summit of Fuji was Lady
Parkes, the wife of the British Minister
to Japan. She made the ascent in the au-
tumn of 1867.
Having learned these few facts, there
were myths that delighted our legend-
loving souls. Near Kyoto, where Lake
Biwa is in these days of 1907, there used
to be many hills grouped together. One
night there was a fearful rumbling and
the morning light showed a lovely lake
where the hills had stood. News came
in a few days — it traveled slowly on foot
along the Tokaido then — that a beautiful
mountain had sprung up that same night
I miles and miles away from Kyoto, near
. the shores of Sufuga Bay. All the little
hills had hurried by subterranean ways
and bursting forth had formed Fuji. The
mountain remains symmetrical because
the stones and scoriae that are brought
down by the pilgrims' feet as they descend
all creep upwards of themselves by night,
On the summit, to this day, lives a Shinto
NEAR ONE OF THE LOWER STATIONS.
CLJ
goddess, whom the Japanese call: '
Princess who makes the Blossoms oJ
Trees to Flower." I think myself
she is the very same goddess whom
poets love and our artists paint, onlj
call her spring.
On the 24th of August such a typl
raged that we sat looking at our s
skirts, our big hats and leggins and s
American boots with dismay. I
seemed absolutely unattainable. But
25th was clear and bright, and we 1
the train for Gotemba, picking up m
bers of our party at Oiso and Kodzu. '
had made the ascent the year before,
their pilgrims' staffs bearing the stamp
the different stations drew murmurs
admiration from Japanese passengers,
was late in the afternoon when we reac
Gotemba. The first sight to greet
eyes as we left the station for the tea he
near by was a throng of pilgrims, com
down the street, real religious pilgri
in white, with rosaries about their nei
straw mats hanging from their should
great round hats on their heads and st
in their hands. After tea a little tram
drawn by one poor mountain horse A
hired, and we started for Subashiri, •
town some miles away at the foot of the
mountain. We went with a clatter
through the long street of the village,
catching glimpses now and then of rooms
heaped with cocoons before we got out
into the country among the mulberry
trees and paddies where the early rice was
headed, and finally out on a grassy moor
dotted with lavender scabious and white
clematis and other late summer flowers.
Back of us stood the Hakone mountains;
on our right were the mountains of the
Oyama Kange, and to our left was Fuji,
cut by a long line of white cloud, a some-
what ghost-like Fuji in a hazy atmos-
phere all its own. The surrounding haze
seemed to separate the mountain from the
rest of the world ; we felt that we were get-
ting no nearer and that Fuji was shrink-
ing from us. Occasionally our conductor
wound a pewter horn, an answer came
from across the moor and we waited on a
side track while another little tram-car,
filled with returning pilgrims, went rat-
tling by.
It was dark when we reached Subashiri
and found our rooms at the Yoneyama —
carrying our wraps and bags to an upper
room. We dined in state on cold roast
chicken and other home foods, for while
a Japanese meal can carry a Japanese sol-
dier for many hours on a campaign, it
cannot carry a foreigner up Fuji. Japan-
ese food has a way of filling a foreigner's
stomach, while it leaves his mouth still
hungry for more. Then to a wing of the
house we three women folk went, climb-
ing up a steep, winding .stair by the light
of a quaint old lamp, held by a giggling
neisan. Then when the neisan had bowed
herself away, wishing us good-night, we
saw our three little beds in a row on the
floor, while all about the room the shoji
and amado were shot tight, in true Jap-
anese fashion, lest a breath of air should
reach the honorable foreigners. We slipped
the amado back and stood looking out into
the night; the moon and stars were shin-
ing down on Fuji, and Fuji, wrapped in
a silver veil, was beautiful, majestic be-
yond words, but unsubstantial as a dream,
a veritable ghost mountain.
At three we arose, and at 4.30 left the
"Hoteru Yoneyama." Lamps were burn-
MONTHLY.
green slopes with the dark green of the
forest below. We could see flags -flying
and three stations on the slope. Then
sunlight struck the summit, and turning
in our saddles we saw that the sun was up,
a red ball, above the Eastern hills.
So we came to Umagaeshi — "horse send
back" — where we were supposed to dis-
mount and send away our ponies. Every
way up, Fuji has its Umagaeshi. This
one was a big open shed, with benches,
tables, and, wonder of wonders, table
cloths of thin muslin. Fluttering from
the roof were hundreds of bright colored
FROM A PHI NT BY HOKUSAI. ONE OF THE THIRTY-SIX VIEWS OF 1 I .1'.
traiuv to a temple in the outskirts. Low
bushes and trees by the roadside grew more
distinct as the light grew brighter and
the mountain as we approached seemed to
grow always flatter and smaller until it
looked a mere hill tr be overcome in per-
haps an hour. Back of us, between Su-
bashiri and the Oyama Range white clouds
lay like the waves of the sea, and the sun-
rise glow was red above the hills. Ahead
of us Fuji changed from red to purple,
then red with purple shadows and bright
pieces of cotton towels printed especially
for the Fuji pilgrims and left by them as
business cards are left. Or these towels
are often the cards of some association.
Many villages have pilgrims' societies, to
whirl) each member contributes a sen a
month. Then lots are cast, and the fortu-
nate go on the pilgrimage, led by some
one who lias l>een before, who tells the
stories of sacred spots and escorts his fol-
lowers to the inn most favored by his as-
sociation. A short distance back of the
226
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
tea shed stood a torii, marking the be-
ginning of the ascent and framing a view
of the sacred mountain peak beyond. Then
we plunged into a forest of evergreens and
larches, with other trees growing from a
carpet of fern and grass and strange flow-
ers. At a small tea shed we left our horses
and the walk up the mountain began.
Presently we came to a little temple
place with a font where pilgrims washed
their hands and left cash and prayed for
fair weather. Here, too, were towels for
sale, neatly folded to tie about one's fore-
head, and the keeper of the shrine pressed
them upon us, predicting headaches when
we reached the summit.
Next we came to another shrine, a sort
of shrine and shop combined, for here we
bought our staffs of white wood and had
them stamped with a hot iron by a priest
who sat enthroned before a shrine where
the sacred Shinto mirror and paper strips
were hanging.
Each tea shed, we thought (and there
were several at convenient intervals
through the forest) must be the first sta-
tion, for the way was steep, and we had
climbed long. At last as we left the wood
and came out on a slope of bare black
lava. "Here is the first station," our guide
said. There it had been, and there to the
Japanese mind it still was, though to our
foreign eyes not a stick nor stone of it re-
mained. Then the toil began; slow climb-
ing on a path of cinders and scoriae for
an hour until we saw far above us the
rounding shoulder of the mountain and
came to the second station. Such a
primitive hut it was, with a low lava wall
before it, the hut's walls of lava, too, with
a shingle roof held down by lava. Japan-
ese tea, bovril with pea soup and crackers,
cheered us on to the third station, and so
we climbed ever steadily and slowly up-
ward through scant shrubs and hardy
flowers. At station 4% we lingered only
a few minutes, for the white flags of the
sixth station seemed just above us hurry-
ing us on. We were an hour climbing up
the steep slopes of grey and red scoriae and
ashes before we reached that station. The
sixth is one of the largest and best built
of lava, as are the others, with a high lava
wall in front; but the room is bigger. In
the corner on the floor were piles of quilts
and round pillows, and up in the rafters
were a few of the high wooden rests that
Japanese ladies use for the backs of their
heads, that their hair, dressed for several
days, may not become untidy while they
sleep. There are no chimneys in the huts,
and the smoke of the charcoal fires is al-
lowed to wander about choosing its own
outlet. They brought us cushions and a
low Japanese table, and we dined from
the box of provisions that one of our
coolies carried. Some students were hav-
ing dinner, and so were two young girls.
The girls interested us ; they seemed about
twelve and fourteen, very young to be
alone climbing Fuji, and they were very
pretty, with their rosy, smiling faces and
picturesque dress. Their blue and white
cotton kimonos were tucked up in their
obis, showing bright red petticoats; they
had towels bound about their heads with
straw hats tied over them, framing the
fresh, young faces; they wore leggins and
waraji (straw sandals), carried staffs,
and had bundles tied to their shoulders all
in orthodox pilgrim style. Dinner finished,
we saw a peasant pilgrim buy some brown
roots to rub on his blisters, then stood
gazing in amazement at the great heap of
worn-out waraji outside the door. Our
coolies bound waraji over our boots, and
we started on again.
Here there was no path; one coolie led
and we followed wherever we could gain
a foothold on the surface of a grey lava
stream. To our right was a slope of red
scoriae ; to our left pilgrims went running
and leaping down a zigzag path of loose
cinders; far above us were other pilgrims,
mere white specks in the distance; below
us we could see little, for the day was
cool, and clouds and mist advanced with
us up the mountain side. It was hard
climbing then for two hours without a
stop, for there was no seventh station, only
an abandoned hut at 7^, and it was a
weary stretch to the eighth. Here was a
post-office, a tiny little place built in the
mountain side, where a thriving business
was done. Another path comes in here,
and as we started on again chanting the
pilgrims' song, "I am not tired; all is
well," a party of people coming up from
Yoshida, some young men, a woman of
middle age and an old man, joined in the
song and passed us. Before we reached
the ninth station every one of us saw that
PILGRIMS RESTING.
228
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
the other members of the party had lost
their natural color and looked pale and
yellow. It was a trick of the altitude, our
leader told us. So leaning on our staffs
and going always slowly, we reached the
summit at 3.30 in the afternoon. Few
go so slowly, but few perhaps arrive at
the top so fresh. 1 have walked a mile and
felt more tired than I felt then. We were
wisely led, and there was none of the wind
that often forces travelers to give up the
ascent and put back.
At the summit, we chose one of a row
of primitive huts to spend the night in,
put on our heavy coats — for the ther-
to tumble them over; then the children
cry and begin again. In the world below
only Jizo helps them, and on this earth
only the pious who heap stones here to
save the baby hands some labor in Pur-
gatory. "We came to holes where hot
streams come out. The mountain is not
dead: perhaps it is only sleeping. Not
far away on the edge of the crater was a
torii, with a Shinto mirror and a cash
box dedicated to the goddess of the moun-
tain. There was a good view into the
crater, which sloped down steeply some
400 feet with rock walls and one long
drift of snow. At the "Silver Well" were
THE TEMPLE AND INN AT THE TOP OF THE GOTEMBA ASCENT.
BACK OF THEM IS THE CRATER EDGE.
mometer was near freezing — and set out to
walk around the crater. Through the
clouds far below us we caught glimpses of
the outlying slopes of the mountain, the
chain of lakes about its base, and the far-
distant Tokio Bay. We came to a spot
sacred to Jizo, the compassionate, the god
of travelers and little children, and we
added some to the heaps of stones that
marked the place. The Japanese believe
that the poor dead children are condemned
to pile stones in the dry bed of a river,
and as the stones are piled, a hag comes
bottles of water which the pious buy and
take home as a cure-all for their ills. A
group of peasants stood about the well, and
some distance away climbing the steep,
red incline of Kengamine, the highest
point, were other pilgrims dressed in
white, all the color and their toil making a
picture like a Hokusai print come to life.
A temple and inn, the most pretentious on
Fuji, stand at the top of the Gotemba as-
cent. Quartered here were some foreign-
ers who had climbed to the summit before
sunrise, and got the glorious view of the
ci"*
A HUT NEAR THE SUMMIT.
230
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
country about that was denied us.
Yet I wonder if the panorama of coun-
far glimpses of the real sea, and through
the cloud sea, sometimes we saw bits of
try could have been more wonderful than country and lakes and distant mountain
what we saw from Kengamine. The peaks. But for the most part we felt
mountain rose straight like a volcanic that we had dropped many centuries from
SUNRISE FROM THE SUMMIT.
island above a restless sea of clouds, and
such clouds, luminous, shining with a lus-
tre like pearls, rising and falling, chang-
ing incessantly. Over the edges we caught
us, and were back in those remote geologi-
cal periods before life was on the globe,
before we human beings began to be. The
sun did not set; it slipped away without
CLIMBING FUJI.
231
splendor. The air grew colder, and we
hurried back around the crater to our
primitive rock hut.
That hut! Perhaps our ancestors back
in the dim ages would have found it their
ideal of comfort, but for us, though we
went to bed at seven, there was sleep from
only one till four. It grew so cold that
the amado could be opened a crack; smoke
from the fine charcoal filled the room ; at a
late hour our coolies had a meal of fish
and rice and tea — and their mothers had
trained them well, for they ate with noisy
politeness — while we wrapt in rugs and
quilts, lying on the board floor, remem-
bered that our friends had warned us
against fleas. At four — unspeakable hour
for arising from a spring bed — '"we got
up joyfully.
Lines of pale green and blue showed
above the sea of cloud which was broken
by other darker clouds that looked like
mountain peaks till the light grew
stronger. The morning star faded away,
and a flush of red came in the sky. Pil-
grims hastened past our hut to reach a
higher point to watch the sunrise. Pil-
grims were coming up, led by a man who
had his head draped in a cloth and wore a
bell that rang as he climbed. He was the
headman of a village, leading the lucky
ones of some association. They were
chanting. The sun rose, and all the pil-
grims on the mountain faced the East,
clapping their hands and praying to be
purified by the first rays of the rising
sun.
Down at the sixth station, where we had
breakfast, there were students, two sailors,
a coolie with a load of charcoal, the two
little girls whom we had seen the day be-
fore, and two aristocratic girls with their
father, who wore foreign clothes. Break-
fast finished, we went running down the
slope of loose scoriae as we had seen others
running when we went up. Down in the
forest we rested while the two. girls of the
red petticoats, there before us, ate a meal
of rice and beans and pickles. Again at
a tea shed we rested, and here we found
the little pilgrims again; one had taken
off her hat and leggins, let down her
kimono, and presented herself as a demure
little neisan bringing us tea. The shed
was her home, while her friend came from
a village not far away.
Did you ever feel that your knees had
turned to blocks of wood and that they
were about to split, that your feet below
the wooden joints were going of them-
selves, quite regardless of your will, while
you, somewhere aloft, looked down at them
wondering helplessly if they were going to
stop, go on at a funeral pace, or dance an
Irish jig in the pathway, the fact that you
did not know an Irish jig making no dif-
ference; if your feet wanted to dance one
they would? That is the feeling two of
us had : but much to our surprise, our feet,
like trusty servants, carried us on to Uma-
gaeshi. The horses met us there, and it
was a joy to climb into the queer old high
saddles and let the horses walk.
One picture at Umagaeshi remains in
my mind; an old white-haired man with
two younger ones, kneeling in the torii
facing Fujisan. Bowing reverently and
praying, they did not heed us as we passed.
All their thought was of the sacred moun-
tain.
So we came, weary in body but exalted
in spirit, to Subashiri and back to Yoko-
hama. While we who went hope that old
age will bring no such pains and aches to
our muscles as we felt the next few days,
yet we want to climb again for the view
that eluded us. As for us, give us not
the artist's snow-clad Fuji, Fuji of the
winter, cold and unapproachable, far away
on the horizon, but give us the summer
time Fuji, known to the peasant pilgrims
and the keepers of the rock huts, and to
those foreigners who find a pleasure in
the life on the "Honorable Mountain."
THE ENDING
BY
JENNET JOHNSON
WAS very glad that the
invitation to spend
the week-end on
Scott's yacht came
when it did — very
glad indeed. For be-
sides the usual pleas-
ure of a cruise
through the summer waters of the Sound
in the "Lurline," I had a special reason
just then for wishing to get among a lot
of gay people, and I am sure Helen had
too. You see, when a man has given up
a rather cherished plan for his wife's sake,
and she has declined the sacrifice (I don't
like to use that word, I'm no martyr or
model husband, Heaven knows ! ) when, I
say, he has decided the matter in the best
way for her, it is not the pleasantest thing
in the world to have his wife refuse to
accept his reasons, and finding him of .
decided mind also, to go about with set
lips and miserable eyes.
You will grant that under a week of
such circumstances a solitude a deux is
to be fled from at the earliest opportunity.
From the night, a week before, when
Helen had congratulated me upon being
invited to be attorney for the Denver and
Rio Grande, and I had briefly told her
that I had no intention of accepting it
and asking her to begin a new menage
and make new friends in the sage-brush
wastes of Arizona — from that very argu-
ment which ended in my request that the
subject should not be alluded to again,
life at home was a nerve-racking series of
attempts to be natural.
The idea of Helen's continued protest-
ing! As if I hadn't grown up with her
from youngster-hood and seen the things
which her nature requires just as the rest
of us need air. It would kill Helen to
have to live more than a hundred miles
from her mother — she would lose all in-
terest in life away from these girls and
men she had grown up with — and the
babies to whom she is godmother and sil-
ver spoon giver. To say nothing of leav-
ing properly built and heated houses, and
the opera and ocean. Wlhy, it was out of
the question. Of course she would object,
trust Helen not to consider herself first —
but her insistence and blindness to reason,
to say nothing of her final injured cool-
ness— well, as I said, I was glad enough
to get away to the gayety of Scott's yacht
for a breathing space.
Helen didn't bubble over when I hand-
ed her Scott's note, but she seemed willing
enough to go, so on Friday afternoon I
left the office early, met her at the Grand
Central at four, and by dinner time we
were at Bridgeport on the white deck of
the yacht lying at anchor off Black Rock.
We were the last arrivals, and a jolly
lot we were who sipped our coffee under
the stars and watched the great eye of the
channel light-house blink and disappear
and blink again. Scott always knew the
right kinds of people to put together ; that
is, if there were to be any gunpowders on
board, there were no matches invited. On
this occasion I decided that we were large-
ly of the soda water variety. The remarks
were all surface wit — you know the kind
— a pop and froth of laughter that is all
over in a minute. Only worth a nickel,
too, but it was pleasing and refreshing
somehow, after those intense days at
home. Besides it gave me time, when it
wasn't my turn to pop, to think — I had a
lot of thinking about Helen to do. She
sat over by the rail facing me. I could
only see her hands in her lap and the
white outline of her coat against the black
sky. She didn't laugh very much — I won-
dered if she was thinking, too.
Heaven keep all my friends from a diet
of soda-pop — especially if they are afloat
on the deep, cut off from fresh supplies!
By the third morning we had all tacitly
admitted our weariness of that form of
intellectual nourishment — and each one
of us had retired to his or her deck chair,
THE ENDING.
233
to try for a while "the gentle art of enjoy-
ing oneself."
I smiled as I noticed the various forms
the art was taking. Mrs. Armand, the
plump, vivacious matron in black and dia-
monds (not more of the latter than are
good taste on a yacht, of course), was
yawning over a green-covered volume with
purple trees and gold letters on the front
and more purple trees on the back. (I
wish I had the designing of book covers,
but that is in passing.)
Carlton Brier was napping in the
shadow of Miss Greville's deck-chair. He
is forty-five, and as handsome a man as
ever was made on the big dark lines, a
rousing good fellow and as poor as a
mouse. And if Carlton napped in the
morning, you can depend upon it there
was "nothing doing."
Harricott, the blonde English lad whose
life is gold-lined and automobile-trimmed,
was walking up and down, smiling at the
sallies of black-eyed little Miss Van Dyne.
Weedon, the cynic and dyspeptic, was
reading a fat book — probably statistics on
proper and improper mastication — Helen
and Kitty Scott weren't in sight — 'Scott
was aft, talking to the captain.
Well, this quiet state of things lasted
about half an hour, then presto ! Some-
body produced a brand new, shiny, uncut
magazine from somewhere, and we all be-
gan to quarrel. We were matching for it
when Scott sauntered up and suggested
like a tactful host that some one pick out
a good tale and read it aloud to the crowd.
So we matched for that, and it fell to Miss
Greville. She picked out a story, and we
all drew up our deck chairs in a circle.
I haven't the faintest idea what the
name of the tale was, but after all, that
doesn't matter. It was a good piece of
work — at least it began so.
The hero was a young lawyer of the
promising, hopeful kind that I guess
Helen thought I was when she married
me. I looked at her once or twice when
the story began, but she didnt' turn in my
direction, and her mouth hadn't gone up
much at the corners.
\\C11, as I said, the hero was an ambi-
tious young idiot, and was especially anx-
ious to make a start at law, so that he
could hurry up and ask a certain girl to
preside over his coffee pot. They were en-
gaged, but the coffee pot picture seemed a
long way off. But one day, just as the
man was getting discouraged, a case was
offered him that looked mighty fine to a
beginner. A certain old gentleman had
left an interesting will which his niece
was trying to break, and if the hero could
win for the other side and defeat the girl's
lawyer (who was one of the biggest men
in the State) his fame would be pretty
well clinched. All his friends congratu-
lated him on getting the chance, and the
best (or rather the worst of it, as he
found out later) was that he felt perfectly
sure he had the right side. So he threw
his hat up in the air, treated his friends
all round and accepted the case.
Then he found out that the niece, the
girl he would be fighting, was his fiancee I
Naturally, his first impulse was to with-
draw his acceptance, but just as he was
hunting round for a pen or stamp 01
something, a note came from the girl, a
nice, ambiguous note, telling him that it
was a business matter and that he mustn't
be influenced by any unbusiness-like feel-
ings he might have in regard to her.
So the hero's professional ambition
sprang up again for a minute, and then
his feeling for the girl began to fight with
that, and he began to pace the floor and
ask himself what he should do.
I tell you we were all pretty interested
Helen was leaning forward and Weedon'a
mastication book had fallen under his
chair. Miss Greville's voice went on, fol-
lowing the conflicting thoughts of the poor
chap.
"Suddenly there was a loud cry in the
stern, and we saw the sailors all rush to
one side. "Man overboard!" some one
shouted; a life-preserver was thrown out,
and orders began to be shouted "to put
her about into the wind !" We all sprang
up and rushed to the rail. I tell you, noth-
ing less than a man overboard would have
stopped that story. We hung over as far
as we could, and watched the life pre-
server go out into the white wake, and we
saw the sailor strike out for it. Of course
he got hold in time, and was hauled in,
mad and shivering. Then we turned back
to our deck chairs for the rest of the
tale — that is, all except Miss Greville.
But Miss Greville evidently hadn't seen
many rescues, and she got pretty well ex-
234
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
cited. Just before the man grabbed the
rope, I had heard her breath coining fast,
and I noticed that her hands which still
held the forgotten magazine were clasped
so tightly that the nails marked her
flesh.
After the rest of us had turned away she
still stood there, watching the thing to
the very end. Then when the last drip-
ping foot was safely deposited on the deck,
she gave a little cry of relief and clapped
her hands.
Imagine our horror ! Out into the wind
and down into the sound it went — our
magazine — rustling away like a yellow-
winged bird — and with it went our poor
hero still pacing the floor and wringing
his hands !
Well, it wasn't any use. Some one
rushed madly for a boat hook, but at the
rate we were clipping along, we had lost
sight of the thing in the swirls of foam
before I had a chance to shout "Another
man overboard !"
After we had lamented and scolded
all around, we turned to the culprit. "Miss
Greville will have to finish the story," we
said.
Just then Scott stepped in with his
hostful suggestions. "Let everybody fin-
ish it as he or she likes," he said, "and
we'll compare endings."
Weedon flung out both hands. "Why
didn't we lose that magazine yesterday?"
he groaned. Weedon always did shirk re-
sponsibilities. But, as Mededith says,
"One is not altogether fit for the battle of
life who is engaged in a perpetual con-
tention with his dinner."
"Shut up, Weedon," Brier commanded.
"We're going to do it alphabetically," and
it won't be up to you for a long time. Now
then, begin, Mrs. Armand."
Mrs. Armand clasped her plump, be-
diamoned hands and gazed out over the
water.
"Wtell, the hero decided to keep the
case," she began. "So he tried to forget
about the girl and win his side. And he
was terribly eloquent, and all the papers
talked about him. But just as he was
about to make a last thrilling oration
(Mrs. Armand's husband was in the shoe
business) he happened to glance across
the hushed court-room, and there he saw
the girl, her face white and trembling,
and he forgot everything else in the
world "
"And shouting, 'All for love,' rushed
across the room, clasped the girl in his
arms and lost his case," Weedon inter-
rupted.
"Hi, there, Weedon, it isn't your turn,"
Scott called. "Brier comes next."
Carlton Brier straightened his long
frame and took the cigarette from his
mouth.
"Mine's brief," he said. "The man had
a good friend who came to him in the mid-
dle of his pacing and told him to go ahead
with the case; so, being a sensible chap,
he went in and won, and cinched his career
for the rest of his life."
"But what about the girl?" Miss Gre-
ville asked. She was looking intently at
Brier.
He laughed and took another puff.
"Why, of course, she wouldn't speak to
him after he had made her lose all her
money, so he went on a cruise in the Med-
iterranean and she married a gilt-edged
pork-packer in Chicago."
Brier sat back comfortably in his chair.
"Next!" he said.
Miss Greville clasped and unclasped her
hands.
"Mine is something like Mr. Brier's,"
she said. "The man went ahead and won
the case, and made the girl lose the
money.
"The girl wasn't angry at all; he only
thought she was, and on the night before
he started for the Mediterranean she sent
for him and told him that it didn't mat-
ter whether she was rich and he was poor
— or, or anything."
Miss Greville finished breathlessly, and
her face flushed as she sank back in her
chair. Brier was smiling lazily. I saw
Miss Greville glance at him quickly, but
he shook his head. He had evidently de-
cided upon the Mediterranean cruise for
his hero.
"Harricott! where's Harricott?" Wee-
don asked. We all looked around, but
Harricott had slipped away. He realizes
his duty in society, Harricott does, as the
Appreciative Audience and the Motor-
Trip Furnishing Branch.
"Now, it's up to you, Trent," Scott
turned to me. "Or rather Mrs. Trent
and you. Place dux dames."
THE ENDING.
235
Helen was tearing a bit of paper into
tine shreds in her lap.
"No, you first/' she said, without look-
ing up. "Arthur comes before Helen."
"Oh, well," I said easily, "I think you
have made entirely too much out of the
situation. The man did the natural thing,
of course, the only thing .he 'cbuld do,
which was to put aside the girl's note (of
course an expected protest) and refuse-
to accept the case."
Dora Van "Ryne began to protest. "Oh,
make more of a story than that," but Scott
pacified her.
"Wait till we have Mrs. Trent's version
— 'then we'll have a recess and everybody
can talk at once."
Helen began to arrange the pieces of
paper in her lap into a pattern. There
was a bright pink spot in each cheek, and
she talked very fast.
"The man was a fine fellow," she said,
looking out over the wator, "but ne wasn't
used ' to seeing the two sides of things.
So he believed that there was only one
sacrifice to be made, and that was the sac-
rifice of his career for the sake of the girl.
It never occurred to him that he was sel-
fish in wishing to monopolize all the sac-
rifice. He cared more for the girl than
for his career, but he never considered
that the girl might care more for his ca-
reer than for her money, or herself.
"So, when the man insisted upon refus-
ing to accept the case, she wrote another
note — he had so evidently not understood
the first one — and this time she spoke
very plainly. She wrote sometning like
this: 'If you won't (supposing you win)
accept the sacrifice of my money, whj
should you expect me to accept the sacri-
fice of your career?'
"And then she ended by telling him
what she believed about a man's work —
that when he had "touched the c.ore of
his capacities," when he was putting his
best into his work, there was little place
for woman in his thoughts. She might
inspire in victory or compensate in loss,
but she would come before and after — the
completion of his life, perhaps, but not
the whole." ...
Helen stopped abruptly, and looked
down at the bits of paper in her lap. We
were silent for an instant.
"Well, did he still refuse; did he miss
her point?" Brier asked, after a long
silence.
For a fraction of a second Helen's eyes
were on me. Then, "He accepted, didn't
he?" I said.
Helen nodded.
"Gee! you ought to be a novelist, Mrs.
Trent!" Weedon looked at her with ad-
miration. "Wasn't that realistic, though.
You've got the 'touch,' all right."
"But you didn't finish," Dora Van
Dyne pouted. "He accepted, but did he
win the case ?"
Helen was looking at the water again.
The corners of her lips curved upward
just enough to bring out two dimples.
(Jove, I'd almost forgotten she had them.)
"Did he win?" Helen repeated over to
herself.
I leaned forward and pulled the rug up
over her knees.
"She won," I said, absently.
BY ROCKWELL D.
ATUHE has done her
part with lavish hand.
Our Yosemite, Tahoe,
Santa Cruz and Men-
d o c i n o redwoods,
Mariposa and Tuol-
umne Big Trees; our
snow-crowned moun-
tains of Siskiyou and Inyo, our Lake
County, with its myriads of wonder-work-
ing springs, our seaside attractions from
north to sunny south — these are sample
dishes from the menu infinitely rich in
quality, in variety inexhaustible.
Americans are slow at becoming inti-
mately acquainted with California's best,
except at long range, and in the externals
of conventionality. Even our own home
people, jaded dwellers in teeming cities
and faithful farmers after harvest in our
opulent valleys, are slow to come to their
own. Multitudes have never yet known
the joy of the camp. And it is an abound-
ing joy that multiplies with the sharing.
To insure a successful camping trip,
three conditions must be present. First,
congenial company; second, wholesome
provision in ample supply; third, ade-
quate means of getting from place to
place in your own time, and not at the
signal of a conductor or the crack of the
stage driver's whip. The third is best
secured for most occasions by a stoutly-
built covered spring wagon, drawn by a
span of sound, true-and-tried horses; for
rare occasions, the tough, sure-footed
pack-horse is the sine qua nan.
Under the second head great depend-
ence may be placed in gun and rod; but
experience has fully demonstrated that it
is not the part of wisdom to subject the
enormous appetites of California camp
life to the monotony induced by an ex-
clusive diet of wild game and fish. The
commissary department is simplified by
the infinite variety of prepared foods of
wholesome quality now everywhere avail-
able, and by the camp devises of an inven-
tive generation. Yet nothing quite takes
the place of the "flap jacks" of our fathers
and the "Dutch Ovens" of our mothers.
A bewilderment of foods and of dishes in
camp is a delusion and a snare.
I lay chief stress on the first condition,
good camp company. Boon companions
will suffer dire hardship, hard luck, and
even low provisions, and yet report a
splendid time on returning from a trip,
but no amount of material success will
compensate for the absence of a congenial
camp mate.
I have been specially favored. In Yo-
semite it was my joy to make camp at the
base of Three Brothers peaks with two
brothers of my own as companions. We
called it Camp Tres Fratres. The snail-
pace of the burros creeping along from
splendot to splendor was not to our lik-
ing, but in bounding health and vigor we
were free to make record time from Senti-
nel Dome to Glacier Point and on down
the zig-zagging trail to the picturesque
little chapel on the floor of the valley op-
posite grand El Capitan. The conven-
tional life of the* so-called rich, lounging
around the lobby of the hotels — we would
CAMPING OUT IN" CALIFORNIA.
237
have none of that: give us the freedom
of the camp and the more intimate wealth
of sublime nature. With face to ground
we were lulled reluctantly to sleep by the
grateful thunderings of the ponderous,
magical, miracle of God, to be awakened
in early morn by a warbling robin who
had builded her a nest in a near-by pine
sapling, fearing no evil.
Very different, though not a whit less
charming, was the prospect at Tahoe, with
camp cosily set under those balsamic pines
— the wind soughing through the upper
branches. What possibilities of delight
north, east, south, west, with camp head-
quarters here on the border of that most
beautiful of all lakes. Here the true
lover of nature forgets his gun, and for a
time even his rod, as he in grateful hu-
mility drinks in the myriad marvels of
creation at its finest. How entrancing
was the moon's shimmer upon the dancing
waves as we sat at the base of majestic
Tallac, our gaze losing itself in the pale
distance on the lake's bosom. No dream
of record-breaking time here, whether en-
joying a boating excursion to the enchant-
ed haunts of Emerald Bay or looking
down from the heights of Tallac upon a
panorama of snowy areas with jutting
peaks, mountain lakes, and meadows of
brilliant green — all fit for the eyes of
gods. No haste, I say, amid these sur-
roundings ; for she who was my chief com-
panion then has since assumed charge of
my household affairs. Wihat is so rare as
a moonlit night on the lake !
John Bidwell, prince of California pio-
neers, was my chief in a memorable camp-
ing trip in the northern Sierras. What a
magnificent camper was Bidwell ! What
a world of experience, what a wealth of
reminiscence! What a knowledge; what
unbounded hospitality! Not while life
lasts can I forget the gentle yet command-
ing greatness of this man whose friend-
ships and benefactions were as broad as
his spreading acres of Rancho Chico.
"Annie," he remarked to his charming
wife the first morning, "we must see how
many plants we can name to-day," and
before nightfall some four score, from
tiniest lichen to the stately pinus ponder-
osa, had been accorded their proper names
at sight. It is said that the general could
at the age of eighty give the scientific
names of all the plants of every descrip-
tion, indigenous and introduced, that
grew on his vast estate of 25,000 acres.
He had a passion for science, whether as-
tronomy or geology, and delighted to en-
tertain in camp as well as mansion visit-
ing scientists from far and near. He
loved poetry as well as science, and how
pleasant it was to hear the becoming
verses from Wordsworth or Longfellow, or
a psalm of David from the lips of this
venerable man.
Withal he was a benefactor to his
neighbors. The real objective point of
this and many another of his camping
trips was the survey and improvement of
mountain roads. Scores of miles of the
public highway, resurveyed and greatly
improved, will long continue as evidences
of the devotion of the Father of Chico.
I shall forget many of the sights of that
short trip in the region of Lassen's Peak
— it was in itself far from sensational —
but the wholesomeness and uplift of its
companionship shall never pass. Nature
has indeed dealt lavishly with California,
but she has nurtured too few noble men
like John Bidwell.
IN NEW SUMMER LANDS
BY
FELIX J. KOCH
PHOTOGRAPHS BY THE AUTHOR.
E WAS of that sort of
men to whom if you
say they shouldn't,
they answer "they
will," and if you tell
them they should,
they won't.
He was going
away from staid old vacation lands, and he
wanted to try something just a bit differ-
ent from his friend, who was summering
in the Eiviera, and his other friend, in
Algiers, and the college chum of years
standing who had gone to Australia. In
short, he wanted to dispell the illusions
his friends might all have of some little-
known land.
He had heard that in Turkey there
were new worlds to conquer, and that, if
one wanted to run the risk, he could go
by horse through the most delightful re-
gion in Europe, the Ivan Planina (or
ridge) of the Balkans. So he started for
that little district — the Sandchak of Novi-
pazar.
In the first place how should he get
there? By rail from Buda-Pest to Sara-
jevo, that was easy. But all the way
down people told him not to go beyond
that point.
"You will never come out alive; you
will certainly regret it!"
Then when he got to Sarajevo, the
capital of Bosnia, he heard another story.
"The Austro-Hungarians are occupy-
ing all that section of Turkey as far north
IN NEW SUMMER LANDS.
as Plevlje, and if you go in the post stage
you go in perfect safety. Even now they
are building the railway to that point,
down the plague spot of Europe."
Where was the post stage? He inquired
at the post-office.
There was an affable Austrian on duty,
and he enlightened him, pleasantly.
"It leaves three times a week, and it is
an experience. Yah, you really should
take it !"
So he wanted to do, but there was no
room in the diligence until three days af-
terward, liesult, he took "place."
The eventful day arrived, as it must,
when he should venture into new vacation
lands, the famous sandchak or district of
Novi-pazar. Incidentally, the post dili-
gence left at four in the morning, and all
four passengers were warned that if not
on time, it would bowl along to the end
of the Austrian occupation, and into Tur-
kish domains without them. The fare
was a mere trifle, five dollars and four
cents, and you could take ten kilograms
of free baggage along, providing that this
was not in wooden or iron trunks. In
other words, it must be in parcels, for
out there leather wallets were totally un-
known.
The ticket further went on to say that
you couldn't smoke if any one else ob-
jected. Then you could take no dogs.
Furthermore, you had to declare the value
of your baggage, otherwise you couldn't
recover.
The only possible loss seemed to be
from highwaymen, so that the American
didn't particularly relish this last state-
ment. But it was there, both in Croat
and in German, on the large white ticket,
and there was no way out of it.
He studied the map of the route. It
really meant very little. He was to go due
southeast of Sarajevo to Plevlje, but as
matters of fact, he would first travel south
to Croljavac, then southeast along the
Malj.acka and the mountains to Goro-
vic, and after that paralleling the river to
Praca and Cemernica, and to the boun-
THE BAGGAGE.
240
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
dary of Bosnia and Turkey. If, then, he
went on, remained to be seen.
He had them wake him at three — at
the Hotel Bosnia. Then, while the porter
took his valise to the post-office, he in-
vested in sausage at a neighboring gro-
cer's, as he had been advised to do.
The 'bus, of course, was not ready when
he got to the post. That was all part of
the programme, enabling the cheery
young barmaid at the stand where the
]i(|imrs arc dispensed to the waiters to in-
dulge in flirtations with guests.
He, too, had his coffee, then stepped
into the diligence.
It seemed quite the limit of transpor-
whole, was quite friendly, and a peasant
woman who spoke the Serb language only,
were the only others aboard. The fourth
passenger, evidently, was late, so they set
out without him.
Out of the city, out through the dark,
empty streets, in the night, and with the
military 'bugles blowing, as they rounded
the corners, the start was made. Despite
the cravenette and the heavy underwear,
it was cold, withal that it was well to-
ward the end of August.
Here and there, out of the dark, an
electric-light flickered at the corners;
otherwise this outset of the ride was much
as Dickens described coaching on similar
AN INN EN ROUTE.
tation, this canvas-covered affair. One
could enter from either side, and there
were two seats for two persons each, fac-
ing one another within. In front was the
seat for driver and guard. To see the lat-
ter take his place, gun in hand, sent a
sudden thrill to the heart.
Meantime, down in the bottom, and in
the rear of the seats, they were stacking
parcels that would go by mail far into the
interior.
A pock-marked, non-talkative Serb,
who spoke German, and who, on the
stilly nights in England. The driver and
the guard were discussing the mail — >
thirty-four parcels in all — wood boxes,
card board and bundles.
The others aboard were silent — so he
sank back into his seat, on the right, in
the rear, to doze.
Ahead, in fact all day to the end (for,
by law, the two must keep in sight of each
other), there rumbled the box-like post
wagon, also a two-horse equipage, with
driver and armed guard on top.
His own guard had his gun in instant
242
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
readiness now, and it and the uniform,
added their powerful part in giving haz-
ard to the prospect.
It seemed as though everywhere was
silence — silence only — save when the
church bells chimed the hour or the elec-
tric light globes, swayed by the breeze,
creaked above the stage's rumble, and of
the night one heard some distant cocks,
and their cries seemed warnings that this
trip might be in the end fatal. Nearer,
geese, too, cackled angrily at the driver.
in the red jacket lined with blue, red
trousers, tall boots and red cap with a
button — as he lashed at them with his
whip.
Again and again the bugle sounded oui;
on the silent night, ordering teams to give
right of way to his Majesty's mail.
Then they were in the country, on a
rustic's pike. In place of the bugle now
the driver substituted a shrill whistle
when some wagon blocked the way. The
colder it grew the more the passengers
huddled far in the wagon's depths, and
maintained a half-conscious doze. There
were no covers in the stage, and with the
growing altitude it became actually icy.
Then a second post wagon joined the
cavalcade, and the three rolled out, pro-
cession-wise, as in England in coaching
days. The whistle, the horn, the night,
and the guard with the gun; then the
mountains, and the increasing cold, one
would have slept away with the monotony
of them, but that the hands and the feet
were freezing.
Dim, high forms of mountains on right
and left became gradually more visible/
and now and then a pack-train of mules
was signaled ahead from the vanguard
of the post train.
Just at the time when sleep had come,
the stage came to a halt.
Of course it must be robbers !
Instead, it was a young signal corps
officer, who had overslept himself, and
hurried by puzzling bridle-paths to over-
take the stage. He greeted one and all in
German as he took his, the fourth, place
in the stage; spoke of the white frost on
the fields, and how nice it would be if
AUSTRIAN PATROLS.
A LAND OF MOSQUES.
they could stop in at the kavana, all lit
up, just beyond, for some coffee. Then he
looked at the moon and the clear, spark-
ling stars, and likewise fell asleep.
So, too, did the American. When he
di(J wake — once or twice — they were pass-
ing a church, or an occasional wagon,
with the driver walking beside his horses,
or some more of the innumerable pack-
trains, while the ever-rising, towering
mountains were always just perceptible
in the dusk.
When daybreak came, they were fol-
lowing the line of a new spur of railway,
then just under construction. Instinct-
ively, while they breathed on their hands
and shuffled their feet in an attempt to
fight that stinging cold, they compared
this ride to American travel, even in olden
times, and then to what it would be here,
perhaps, three years hence, when the
railway got this far into Bosnia. And
meantime he was congratulating himself
that he had made the trip now, and se-
cured this taste of old-fashioned staging.
Everything, too, served for distraction.
A great herd of pack-horses, tied to-
gether with clothes-line, and a peasant
walking at their head or their sides, served
for a moment to ward off sleep. Then the
mutual expressing of the wish for sun-up
or for 'covers, kept the four in some sort
of life.
It was quarter past five when the sun
made its first appearance over the moun-
tains, and one could begin to see things
distinctly. The mountain peaks -grew
yellow against a ground-work of brown,
and great valleys of pines iseemed .to
open.
A passenger suggested that they tie the
covers to the side entry to the stage, and
they found it a little warmer, now that
the draft was shut off, only that obstructed
the view !
Time seemed to pass very slowly. At
5.25 they were stopping in the twilight
at two little homes, and while the sweat
rose in steams off the horses' backs, and
their breath, too, floated skyward, they
worked fingers and legs that were stiff
with cold, and tried to break the frozen
244
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
silence by suggesting they imitate the
peasants they saw outside, with the queer,
be-turbaned fezes of red, twisted cloth —
and walk side by side with the horses.
Those peasants interested the Ameri-
can deeply. There were some who wore
European attire throughout, excepting for
conventional fezes. Ihere were others
who had the Bosnic fez — 'that of the red,
twisted cloth. There were others with a
handkerchief about the head. Most of
them carried bags of alternate gray and
brown stripes on their backs.
They were all prone to argument, and
notably so one with whom the stage-
driver picked a quarrel, because the peas-
ant refused to return an article he had
found on the road.
Other men in ordinary attire, but with
great alpen-stocks, to whose tops bouquets
of fresh flowers were tied, and with a
"ruck sack" on the back and typical Swiss
caps (even to the green felt and one
feather), were likewise clambering on to
the deep blue mountains, where the sun-
light had not yet fallen.
Rapidly, now, however, the light of day
was spreading over the endless peaks, and
at a kavana where the cavalcade stopped
that the three drivers and guards might go
in to their coffee, the cocks were pro-
claiming the fact, Mean-time, for fifteen
minutes or so of the halt, the four inside
the 'bus were freezing.
Some pack-horses, with great loads of
hay wrapped entirely round their bodies,
made themselves objects of envy, for their
covers. Likewise, some peasants, in the
thread-crossed brown slippers, the black
stockings rising to heavy red garters, the
white trousers and the long white vests,
beneath queer coats of black, who seemed
not to heed the temperature a trifle.
With full dawn the mists on the Balkan
peaks ahead were dispelled rapidly, and
the fogs fell away into a vale of blue
clouds, one of the prettiest sights in the
world.
If only it had been warmer, that one
could rightly enjoy overlooking then
peaks — some with slopes well-tilled and
patched by crops, the others wooded and
their slopes irregular, though well-covered
by vegetation.
And the music of the road, too — it was
so pretty — but for one's shivering! Where
the black-gowned peasants walked at the
leading animal's head a bell swung, tink-
ling merrily the live-long day. Every
train had its different burden, too. Here
were thirteen burros, laden all with hides,
coming out of the mountains as the pack-
trains do far away in India. Yonder,
others had a keg at each side of the horse
with olives, perhaps, for the valley.
Down in one vale was a goat-pen, and
the alpenstock bearers made for it on a
run, perhaps for the goat's milk or cheese,
while the other trains wound on in the
forest.
Wagons hauling supplies for the new
railway, or great kegs of material under
tarpaulin, so as to resemble American
beer wagons, became numerous by six,
when, frozen to the bone, the first creek
was reached, and with each yard of ascent
the mercury seemed to fall lower.
Then they took to the forest of pines —
very erect and laden with balsam. Pines
seemed to cover even the crags, and where
there were windows were farm houses
with great white-washed ovens in their
gardens, beneath a protective roof. There
was the summer villa of a consul here also,
in a great ever-green preserve, and across
the way was an inn.
That was the first morning's stop — it
was only six-ten now. The wagons drove
off to a military reservation (which no
stranger may enter), that the guards
might breakfast. The travelers remained
behind.
They went to the inn, but it was closed.
Luckily, over the road was another, the
lian, or tavern of Bale. Out of the cold,
through the guest room of the inn, into
the kitchen, where cooking was in progress
on a most modern range, the travelers
flocked. Two or three women, wearing
very cheap gowns, were engaged in pre-
paring breakfast.
There were scrambled eggs and black
bread — that was all, excepting, of course,
coffee. Would it do? Most certainly, yes.
So, while the eggs were cooking, they
thawed out, and discussed the cold, the
worse after yesterday's rain. Then they
looked out the window at the great pano-
rama of beautiful, forested mountains,
rolling beyond the barnyards.
Their hands finally warm, and the chat
at an end, they withdrew to the guest
WOMEN OF THE REGION.
246
OVERLAID MONTHLY.
room, where the floor was of planks, and
the walls had a green plaster, and the
ceiling was of heavy, raised boards. In
one corner was a bed, and beside it a
sofa. Then there was a little iron stove
and a sewing machine, some tables and
chairs. Ever since 1885, when the sol-
diers were quartered here, the Magyars
had run the place. Now, however, the
soldiers were useless for protection, as
there were no longer any robbers about.
They gave other interesting gossip, too,
of the hunting club of Turkind beys, close
by, that was kept so exclusive because of
the price of membership, and which had
wiped out practically all the big game,
notably bear and wild boar, leaving only a
few deer and chamois.
Then they called attention to the sun,
rising on the pine-cla'd mountains. After
that they let them go on with the coffee.
There was time to spare still before the
wagons returned. Nearby at the roadside
was a kavana, all of white plaster, and
with over-hanging roof. The door was
open, and inside on a divan or bench,
against the wall, sat the Turk, cross-
legged, at his tray, with the cafe can and
the little, handleless cup, the sugar and
spoon, swilling the live-long day.
The American photoed him and his
home and inn. Then he took a "snap"
of a passing Serb by his horse, and the
man shook his hands in exceedingly grate-
ful thanks.
Wagons with supplies went by in as-
tounding numbers, showing the import-
ance of the trade route that the new rail-
way will take to connect with the Oriental
Express in the future.
After that, it was time to go on.
Did he want to go? He had had only
a taste of the Balkans! The Turkish
coffee, the han, the out-door oven, appealed
to him greatly. It was getting warmer
now, too — that the \sun wag up! Of
course he did ! So he went.
On to the heart of the sandchak, and
the trip was as unique as any he had heard
of before.
WIND ON THE SEA
BY
ARTHUR POWELL
THE wind is high, though clear the sky;
The great seas rise and fall
Like the heaving breasts of a monstrous shape
Spawned in some under hall,
Where the ceiling is light as the green of the grape,
And the floor dark,-— dark as a pall.
The big ship swings ; the rigging sings ;
The deck is a swivelled plane;
We painfully cling and climb, till now,
One beat, we are level again;
Then down we slide with the dipping bow
To a clank-and-creak refrain.
Before the gale, with swelling sail,
We reel in drunken glee ;
The brute we ride is the wind- whipped tide
That heavily rolls a-lee;
There, where the lash has cut the hide,
The crystal spray flies free.
LITTLE MUSKY'S ,STORY
BY
CLARENCE HAWKES
ILLUSTRATED BY ELOISE J. ROOEBACH.
ITTLE MUSKY had
been born about the
first of February, in
one of the conical-
shaped m u s k r a t
houses upon the
island in the great
river. He had been
one of a family of nine rats, for the musk-
rat always has a good, large family. His
parents lived in a three-story house, about
six feet high, and six or seven feet in di-
ameter. The muskrat houses had been
built higher than usual the autumn be-
fore, for by some wild instinct, the wary
rats expected unusual freshets in the
spring; and their prophecies usually came
true. By observing these sagacious little
creatures, man can often get valuable hints
as to the weather, for many months ahead.
When the winter is to be long and cold,
they build the rush and reed walls of their
houses thicker, both to keep out the cold
and to serve them as provender. When
there is to be high water in the spring,
they build their houses high, so that they
will not be drowned out when the freshet
comes.
The family of muskrats to which
Musky belonged, had been very cozy in
their nicely constructed house, where
they nestled close to their mother's warm
fur and were content. It was several
weeks before they were large enough to
crawl about, but they grew much faster
than other small creatures, so in two
months they were exploring the house for
themselves.
Before the spring freshet came they
were large enough to go outside, and run
about in the tunnels that the old musk-
rats had made in the snow. These tun-
nels were very winding and led from point
to point, where provender had been stored.
About the middle of April there were
several days of hard rain, and the tee in
the river broke up, and the spring flood
began.
At first the three conical houses on the
island had seemed very secure, for they
were on a high point, and several feet
above water. But an ice-jam was formed
248
OVEBLAND MONTHLY.
in the river below, and the water rose
rapidly. This was something that the
rats had not expected; so, like the wisest
of us, they were taken unawares. Soon
the water came into the lower story of
their house, and they went to the second
floor. Then that, too, became flooded, and
they went to the third and last. But the
water still rose, and the fate of the poor
muskrats looked dubious. The water was
so deep about their house that they could
not escape by the water passage, and reach
a place of refuge before their breath and
strength would be gone. Finally, the
floor of their last refuge became wet, and
they huddled up in one corner, frightened
and miserable.
Then a lucky accident delivered them
from the trap in which they had been
caught, for a log came rushing and tum-
bling about in the current, and stove in
the top of their house, and their escape
was made more easy.
But where should they flee, for on every
side was water, water, water, and nothing
but water. It was not placid and inviting,
as they were used to see it, but turbulent
and angry, and they feared it with an un-
known fear.
Soon a long, queer object began slowly
moving across the meadows, towards the
island. Occasionally a bright flame would
leap from this strange thing, and a thun-
derous noise would reverberate across the
water. The muskrats did not know what
it all meant, but it doubled their fears,
which were already great.
Soon the monster drew near the island
and its three conical houses, and the old
rats became alarmed. They were all out
on the top of the house now, and could
see the moving object quite plainly. Then
the thunder stick spoke again, louder and
more terribly than it had before, and one
of the old rats and three of the children
rolled, kicking and splashing, into the
river, and the water about them was red
with blood. Then a friendly plank came
floating by, and the remaining old musk-
rat, and three of the youngsters swam and
climbed upon it. Bang, bang, bang, went
the thunder stick again, and the old musk-
rat and two of the children on the plank
tumbled off, as the others had done from
the top of their house; and little Musky
was left alone upon the plank, in a hostile
and terrible world. But the water was
more merciful than man, for the current
bore him swiftly away, out of reach of the
thunder-stick.
On, on, the current swept the friendly
plank, and this queer little mariner was
borne far away from all familiar things,
and never again in his adventurous life
did he see any of his own family. Some-
times the plank rushed through narrows
with a speed that fairly took his breath
away, and then it glided gently along,
where the river was broad and not so tur-
bulent. Once it rushed into a whirlpool
and was sent spinning round and round.
The poor rat became quite dizzy, and near-
ly lost his hold, but he knew intuitively
that his only hope was in clinging tight,
so he clung.
Several times the plank shot under long
bridges, where the swollen waters nearly
washed the floor. At another point it shot
over a great dam, with the speed of an
arrow.
Finally, after several hours, it was car-
ried into back water, and lodged in some
bushes, and Musky's travels ceased for a
while, for which he was very glad, for it
tired him and made him so dizzy he could
hardly tell water from land.
Soon another plank came floating by
and lodged still nearer the shore, so he
left the plank that had served him so well,
and swam to the second one, and from that
to an old log, until at last he was on
land. Here his first care was to eat some
last year's dead water grass, and stop
the gnawing at his vitals. Then he crawled
into a hole in the bank and went to sleep.
When he awoke he was sore and stiff,
but a run in the sand soon restored his
good feelings. There was plenty of good
food, both in the wash along the shore, and
in the reeds and water grasses, so he fared
very well as far as food was concerned, but
he was very lonely. He had always had a
dozen or more young muskrats for play-
mates and companions, and it seemed
strange to be left all alone. He had no
idea where the island in the great river
could be found again, and soon gave up
looking for it.
The second day he made the acquaint-
ance of a drowned-out skunk, which made
it a little less lonesome. The skunk did
not have very much to do with him, but
ON, ON, THE OTJRRENT SWEPT THE FRIENDLY PLANK.
250
0\7EELAND MONTHLY.
it was nice just to have some one to look
at, and to know that there were other liv-
ing things, besides himself, that the flood
had pushed from their homes.
After about a week, the flood subsided,
and the river went back to its old channel.
The sun then came out warm for the time
of year and dried up the sand. The young
muskrat found the sand a great delight,
and was never tired of playing in it, but
he soon learned that his element was the
water. On land he was awkward, and did
not know just how to make his legs go, but
in the water they went all right. So he
concluded that he was made for swimming
and kept much to the water.
Two very serious mishaps befell him
this first summer, which he might have
avoided if he had been in the company of
wiser heads, but he was alone in the world,
and had to buy all his wisdom.
One morning in midsummer he was
playing on the shore, after having made a
fine breakfast on lily bulbs, when he no-
ticed a shadow upon the ground beside
him. It had not been there a second be-
fore, and he wondered what made it. The
next second he found out in a way that
astonished him, for there was a great flap-
ping above him, and before he knew what
was about to happen, a large fish-hawk
had wrapped steely talons about him, and
strong wings were bearing him away.
With that instinct of self-preservation
that is strong in all wild creatures, and
which tells them to do the right thing at
the right time, the young rat drew him-
self up, and buried his teeth in the hawk's
leg.
The old osprey had caught many young
muskrats before; none of them had ever
bitten him, but he had taken this one up
in the wrong manner. It was so sudden
and unexpected that for a second the hawk
loosed his grip, and the poor rat dropped
back into the river, with a suddenness
that knocked the breath out of his body,
and left him kicking and gasping on the
surface of the water. The hawk could
easily have taken him again, but the musk-
rat's teeth had sunk deep into his leg, and
he concluded to go after a fish instead.
Fish did not act in that uncivil manner.
So little Musky escaped this time, but
he never forgot the lesson. After that,
whenever he saw the fish-hawk hovering
above the river, he sought a safe shelter,
and was very careful not to show himself
until the osprey had gone. Musky's sec-
ond adventure, and one from which he
learned a valuable lesson, was with his
worst enemy, the mink.
One evening, when he was playing in
the shallows of a little brook, which ran
into the river, he saw a slim, sleek-looking
animal, not much larger than himself,
come gliding noiselessly down the brook.
His movements were all stealthy, and his
head was turned this way and that, inquir-
ingly ; his eyes were sharp and beady, and
Musky did not like his looks, although he
seemed small and harmless.
Presently the stranger caught sight of
the muskrat and fixed his glittering eyes
upon him. This made Musky feel un-
comfortable, and, deciding to give the
fierce little stranger all the room he
wanted, he moved to the other side of the
brook, but the mink followed, his eyes
getting brighter and brighter. Then
Musky concluded the stranger was not to
his liking, and fled towards the river,
where there was plenty of water, the mink
following fast. Out and in among the lily
pads they raced, the mink gaining on the
rat, and Musky getting more and more
frightened. What could this little fury
want of him?
Wihen they reached the river, the mink
was but a few feet behind, and he glided
after the muskrat like a snake. In his
great fright, the muskrat did the only
thing that he could have done to save hia
life. He knew of no burrow in which to
take refuge, so he swam for deep water,
and dove to the bottom. His lungs were
much stronger than those of the mink, so
by a series of dives he soon winded his
pursuer, and escaped, hiding in the lily
pads until he was gone.
After this thrilling chase, the muskrat's
life went on quite uneventfully, until the
fall freeze. When the rivers and streams
began to skim over with ice each morning,
and the grass along the bank was covered
with hoar-frost, something told the musk-
rat that snow and cold were coming. He
knew by some rare instinct that he would
not always be able to make his breakfast
at the brook-side, as he now did.
So with prudent forethought he began
building a great mound of reeds, rushes,
A FINE BREAKFAST ON LILY BULBS.
lily pads, moss and other plants that grew
in swampy places.
Higher and higher he piled this heap
of plant life, until it was five or six feet
high, and nearly as far across at the base.
The inside of this queer haycock he left
hollow, and when it was finished, he made
two channels underground, from the in-
side of his house, to the brook.
He made these channels quite long, so
that his enemy, the mink, would have a
hard time holding his breath if he should
undertake to enter at his front door.
This queer house that the muskrat had
built was to serve two purposes. First,
it was his place of refuge and shelter, and
secondly it was his food. Who ever heard
of any one eating his house? But this
was. what the muskrat did, while the
winter days went by.
THE MAN WHO INSPIRED
"RAMONA"
BY LOUIS J.
ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS.
F THE many millions
who have read Helen
Hunt Jackson's fam-
ous novel of Southern
California, very few
realize that the story
is true, and a still
smaller number know
that the man who inspired a young and
then unknown writer to produce her mas-
terpiece has just been laid to rest in
San Diego.
Father A. D. Ubach, for forty years
priest of St. Joseph's Church in San
Diego, is the original of one of the strong-
est characters in the story of Ramona :
"Father Gaspard, the bearded priest;
more of a soldier than the man of God."
Thus he is described by the author of
"Ramona," to whom he told the dramatic
story of the beautiful half-caste girl and
her red-skinned lover many years ago.
Miss Helen Hunt, as was then her
name, met Fathej Ubach while visiting
San Diego, and was deeply impressed by
the latter's striking personality. Father
Ubach, also, was attracted by the young
writer, and, learning of her literary ambi-
tions, told her the story of Ramona and
Allesandro, whose dramatic fortunes and
ill-starred union were always among the
most vivid memories of his stirring and
eventful life.
Graphically, and with the realism of
combined eloquence and intimate personal
knowledge, Father Ubach poured into the
eager ears of his fair listener the sub-
stance of the story so well elaborated in
the resultant book. He described the mis-
givings, perplexities and battlings with
Self which shook Ramona's heart and
mind when she found herself in love with
the young Indian chief employed on her
foster parents' estate; how the call of the
free, wild blood in her veins clashed with
the Castillian heritage of restraint, dig-
nity and pride which were also there, and
of her final abandonment of home, social
position and all her former world held
dear, to follow Allesandro into the moun-
tains— a penniless outcast, yet radiant
with happiness and hope.
No other could have told the young
writer of these things, for Father Ubach
was the confessor, comforter and truest
friend of both Allesandro and Ramona.
It was he who counselled the girl before
her fateful marriage. He performed the
marriage ceremony in the ancient adobe
mission church at Old San Diego, fol-
lowed their subsequent career of continued
misfortune with words of cheer, wise coun-
sel and even more material assistance, and
performed the last rites over Allesandro's
remains, when he fell a victim to the
rapacity of a murderous land-grabber. Nor
did Father Ubach's beneficent influence
end here, for through all the subsequent
years of Ramona's widowhood and the de-
cline of her grief-shortened life, he re-
mained the friend, counselor and advisor.
All this Miss Hunt learned from the
lips of Father Ubach, and that she might
have further opportunity to clothe the ro-
mance with dramatic realism, he guided
her, personally, to many of the scenes
where its principal events had been en-
acted.
The result was a novel which took im-
mediate rank among the world's master-
pieces, and has sometimes been called the
"Uncle Tom's Cabin" of the red man,
even as Ramona and Allesandro were the
Romeo and Juliet of the Indian race. The
pen picture of "Father Gaspard," in
which Father Ubach and his noble, active
FATHER UBACH S ORIGINAL CHAPEL NEAR SAN DIEGO, WHERE HE HELD
SERVICES IN 1868.
OLD ADOBE MISSION NEAR SAN DIEGO, WHERE RAMONA WAS MARRIED.
FATHER UBACH, FROM HIS LATEST PHOTOGRAPH.
life have been so vividly portrayed, is con-
ceded to be the best description of the
venerable priest extant, and the friend-
ship between him and Mrs. Jackson was
never broken during his life.
Aside from his connection with Ea-
mona, Father TJbach's career has been
such as to win him renown of the first
order. He came to San Diego forty years
ago from Missouri, where he had emi-
grated from his home in Barcelona, Spain.
Until his twenty-first year, the church
was not his aim, for, despite his youth, he
ranked as one of Spain's best swordsmen
and a poet of no mean ability. An affair
of the heart is said to have turned his
purpose to a consecrated life, and soon af-
ter he left his native land, never to re-
turn.
Wihen he first arrived in San Diego, the
business center was at a point consider-
ably removed from the present one, and
the population mostly Spanish and In-
dian. His popularity was immediate, and
his policy of firm, unwavering justice won
the esteem and confidence of all alike.
"GRANDMA" VARNER AND "TOMMY."
255
During some of the most momentous
events of Southern California's history,
Father Ubach was a leader, unfalteringly
advocating the right, and usually winning
his point, though he never made use of
Church influence on such, occasions or
took any advantage of his cloth.
Father Ubach was looked upon as a
demi-God by the Indians, whose friend he
always remained, and during the trou-
blous days of disputed land rights, when
many contended that the red man was be-
ing outrageously treated by a thoughtless
Government and unscrupulous land grab-
bers, Father Ubach righted many a glar-
ing wrong and averted many an uprising
which might have cost countless human
lives.
Perhaps the one marked idiosyncrasy
of Father Ubach's well balanced mind
was his antipathy to photographers seek-
ing for his picture. To one and all of
these he kindly but firmly refused permis-
sion to "Kodak" him, and although thou-
sands have tried, surreptitiously, to snap-
shot him, his curious watchfulness,
amounting almost to second sight, pre-
vented one and all from achieving any
measure of success. He would simply
turn as the photographer was about to
press the button, and without any attempt
to turn away or cover his face from view,
would hold up his hand in a majestic ges-
ture of protest which no one ever dared or
cared to disregard.
As a result, no picture of Father Ubaeh
was printed until after his death, when a
San Diego photographer finished two
negatives he had exposed of a group con-
taining Father Ubach at the funeral of
the Bennington victims. On this occa-
sion, Father Ubach could not well object,
but kept his eyes on his book. He never
explained this whim, but many consider
it a regard for the sanctity of the vest-
ments he wore.
'GRANDMA" VARNER AND
"TOMMY"
BY ELIZABETH A. KELLY
WITH A PHOTOGRAPH BY P. P. STEVENS.
RANDMA VARNER,
the last of the "types"
selected by Helen
Hunt Jackson for her
stories of the rugged
Rockies, is dead.
In a little hut on
the outskirts of
Denver, she closed her eyes while the
June sun was sinking and her pain-racked
body found relief. It had been a long,
long time since she had feasted on the
beauties of the everlasting hills, and it
had been weary months and years since
she has been able to reach the door of her
hut without assistance to drink in the
warm, invigorating air.
Years ago Helen Hunt Jackson trudged
the Colorado plains and journeyed through
the mountain fastnesses, looking for ma-
terial upon which to build the fascinat-
ing stories which have since made her
famous.
She was a busy woman in search of
"types." She had grown to know the men
and the women who peopled the villages
which nestled in the foothills, and while
there was a charm about their very rug-
gedness of character, in those strenuous
days, intuitively the woman felt that the
mountains sheltered a still sturdier army.
And so it came about that Helen Hunt
Jackson discovered "Grandma" Varner,
and heard from the thin, worn lips the
stories of hardship and suffering, the
stories of love and devotion, which she
256
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
wove into "Bits of Travel at Home," a
book which holds a place in the library of
every Coloradoan.
if was more than thirty years ago when
the clear Colorado skies smiled on a
smaller band of men and women and the
canyons echoed less frequently the shrill
whistle of the engine, that Mrs. Jackson
made her way out of Colorado Springs
into the mountains which were even then
being blasted to meet the demands of the
march of progress.
On a lonely mountain road she came
upon an old woman, stooped and gray,
with her arms well filled with kindling.
The type fascinated her. She stopped
and interrogated the wrinkled creature.
Her heart was touched; she wanted to
offer help, but almost the first words that
fell from the pale and drawn lips were
these :
"Oh, no; I ain't never suffered. I've
always had a plenty. I've always been
took care of. God always takes care of
me."
It was the key to the character of the
woman, and with it Helen Hunt Jackson
opened up a treasure house which fur-
nished the most delightful pages of her
"Bits of Travel at Home."
Until a few weeks ago, this same old
woman, with hair whiter — if whiter it
could be — with lips more purple and more
drawn, but with her tired old brain still
alive to the happenings of the strenuous
days of which she told Helen Hunt Jack-
eon, still lived, "waiting for the call to go
home."
In a little frame house of a single room
on the borders of Denver she lived with
her son Thomas, the "Tommy" of the
book, and every day the little children of
the district which lies 'below the railroad
tracks would gather about her to hear
again the stories of the long ago, when
Colorado was new, when its wealth was
unexplored, and when sturdy men and
women, and heroic little children, endured
privation and hardship that they might
grow with the new country, and one day
taste of its treasures.
It isn't so very many years since Helen
Hunt Jackson was buried in the hills out-
side Colorado Springs on the brink of a
precipice where she used to sit and weave
her stories, but it is many years since her
"characters" passed into the Great Be-
yond, with the sole exception of Mrs. Mary
Varner, whom every one knew always as
just "Grandma."
Although blind, as if her eyes had never
opened on a beautiful world, and crip-
pled so that she could only with difficulty
move from her bed to her chair, "Grand-
ma" Varner clung tenaciously to life, and
the memories, sweet and bitter, which her
tired old brain sheltered. She loved to
talks of the days of long ago, and best of
all, she loved to tell the story of her first
meeting with Helen Hunt Jackson. It is
this meeting which Mrs. Jackson uses in
her story called the "New Anvil Chorus,"
which appears toward the end of "Bits of
Travel at Home."
This is the way Mrs. Jackson tells of
the meeting:
"The boards of a wagon top were set
up close by the doorway, and on these
were hanging beds, bedding and a variety
of nondescript garments. A fire was burn-
ing on the ground a few steps off, and on
this was a big iron kettle full of clothes
boiling; there were two or three old pans
and iron utensils standing near the fire;
an old flag-bottomed chair, its wood worn
smooth and shining by long use, and a
wooden bench on which was a wash-tub
. full of clothes soaking in water. I paused
to look at the picture, and a woman pass-
ing said :
" 'That's Grandma's house.'
" 'Your grandmother ?' I asked.
"'Oh, no,' she replied. 'She ain't no-
body's grandmother; but we all call her
grandma. She's here with her son; he
was weakly, and she brought him here.
There ain't many like her. I wonder
where she's gone, leavin' her washin' this
way.'
"Then we fell into talk about the new
city, and what the woman's husband was
doing, and how hard it was for them to
get along, and presently we heard foot-
steps.
" 'Oh, there's grandma now,' she said.
"I looked up and saw a tall, thin wo-
man in a short, scant calico gown, with an
old woolen shawl crossed at her neck and
pinned tight at the belt after the fashion
of the Quaker women. Her sleeves were
rolled up above her elbows, and her arms
were brown and muscular as an Indian's
GRANDMA VARNER.
Copyrighted by F. P. Stevens
Her thin, gray hair blew about her tem-
ples under an old limp, brown sunbonnet,
which hid the outline of her face, but did
not hide the brightness of her keen, light-
gray eyes. Her face was actually seamed
with wrinkles; her mouth had fallen in
from want of teeth, and yet she did not
look wholly like an old woman.
" 'Grandma, this lady's from Colorado
Springs,' said my companion, by way of
introduction.
"Grandma was carrying an armful of
cedar boughs. She threw them on the
ground, and turning to me, said with a
smile that lighted up her whole face :
" 'How d'ye do, marm ? That's a place
I've always wanted to see. I've alwa}^
thought I'd like to live to the springs ever
since I've been in this country.'
" 'Yes/ I said, 'it's a pleasant town ; but
do you not like it here ?'
"She glanced at her shanty and its sur-
roundings, and I felt guilty at having
asked my question ; but she replied :
" 'Oh, yes, I like it very well here. When
we get our house built we'll be comfort-
able. It's only for Tommy I'm here. If
it wan't for him I wouldn't stay in this
country. He's all I've got. Wfe're all
alone here; that is, so far as connections
goes; but we've got plenty of friends, and
Gods' here just the same as everywhere.'
"She spoke this last sentence in as natu-
ral and easy a tone as all the rest; there
was no more trace of cant or affectation
in her mention of the name, of God than
her mention of Tommy's. They seemed
equal]y familiar and equally dear. Then
she went to the fire and turned the clothes
over with a long stick, and prepared to
resume her work.
" 'How long have you been here ?' I
asked.
" 'Only about a week,' she said. 'Tommy
he's working's hard's ever he can to get
me a house built. It worries him to see
me living this way. He's got it three logs
high already,' proudly pointing to it only
a few rods further up the hill. 'But
Tommy's only a boy yet. He ain't six-
258
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
teen ; he's learning ; he's learning to do for
hisself ; he's a real good boy, and he's get-
ting stronger every day; he's getting his
health real firm, 'n that's all I want.
'Tain't any matter what becomes of me,
if I can only get Tommy started all
right/ "
And this is the story of "Grandma"
Varner told to the last. She did not
know until sixteen years ago that her
stories had been incorporated in one of
Mrs. Jackson's books, but the knowledge
filled her with pride, and as long as her
sight lasted, she read and re-read the little
tale of the hills.
To the end of her days, as when Mrs.
Jackson first met her, "Grandma" Var-
ner wore a scarf about her neck, crossed at
the waist in Quaker style, and her hair
was combed with faultless precision just
as it was three decades ago. Although
she could not see, her fingers were still
nimble, and she had learned by long prac-
tice the little touches that would lend
charm to her personal appearance.
Hardly a day went by that the little old
woman did not breathe her story in the
hut on the outskirts of a flourishing city.
She was away from the noise and the din.
of busy life, but the mountains lay off
to the west of her window, and their com-
panionship, though she could no longer
feast her. eyes on their snow-capped peaks
shut out the loneliness from her heart.
Eighty-nine years had rolled over her
head, and eighty-nine years filled with-
out trouble stood out in her memory. No
flowers grew near the dusty spot which
"Grandma" Varner called home, and no
sound of music penetrated the frame
walls.
But the memory of other years cheated
her into utter forgetfulness of the presen*
and the hope of "home" at last buoyed her
up.
"I remember Mrs. Jackson just as plain
as I do my mother," the old woman would
generally say by way of preface to her
story.
"Oh, yes, it was years ago when they
undertook to build the new railroad out
from Colorado Springs. I had only a
little while before taken Tommy out with
me to Colorado, for he was kind of delicate
like, and I lived in fear of losing him. He
was a slip of a boy about sixteen, and he
was all the help he could be to me, but
times were hard. We took our wagon and
tried to follow the men along the road,
Tommy earning money hauling for them
and I doing their washing and mending.
The day I met Mrs. Jackson stands out in
my memory as bringing into my life a
character altogether new. She was the
first person who was ever really kind to
me.
"One day while I had the clothes a boil-
ing over the fire beside the wagon-box
where we lived, I noticed that I was out
of wood, and I had to go and gather some
so that my clothes might be dried that
night.
"I was walking down the road with my
arms filled with twigs and wood when I
saw the strange woman. She seemed kind
of interested in me, but I was just a little
bit annoyed, for I had my work to do, and
did not want to be disturbed.
"A woman I knew pretty well intro-
duced her as Mrs. Jackson, and I stood
and talked a minute and then told her ifi
she wanted to visit with me she'd have to
sit down and let me go ahead with my
work. I was out of money and had to
get the washing done as quick as I coulc
to get a dollar or two. While I worked
she talked to me and asked me many
questions. I did not think I was ver)
agreeable to her, but as she left she gave
me $2 and asked me to come and see her
when I went to Colorado Springs.
"I never had any intention of going to
see her, for I knew she was a grand lady
but when the work gave out in the moun-
tains, Tommy and I went to the springs
There I took in washing for some people
in Consumption Row, and Tommy he ran
chores for others. One day Mrs. Jackson
was down in that part of town doing some
charity work, when she heard of Tommy.
"She wondered right away if it was my
boy, and looked us up. She called, and
was mortified to death because there wa
no fire. I told the visitor that Tommy
must have forgotten to order coal, and she
said she didn't mind the cold, but a littte
later that day a ton of coal came to us,,
a present from her. She wanted us to
come over to her house that night, ani
she had her cook give us a basket full of-:
good things to take home. We took to.
going over there often, but I had no idea
OBSCUKITY.
259
the stories I told her would ever see print.'"'
"Grandma" Varner approached the
ninetieth milestone with the recollection
of having experienced fewer comforts, per-
haps, than any living person. From her
childhood days the fates treated her un-
kindly. Wihen she married, back in Mis-
souri, years ago, her first home was a
cabin, the logs of which were so far apart
that the cats walked through the aper-
tures with ease.
A ladder ran up the side of the house so
that water could be carried to the chimney
after each meal had been prepared to ex-
tinguish the flames.
She had six children, of whom only one
lives. There is also a great-grandchild
playing in the familiar streets of Colo-
rado Springs. Two sons were shot down
before her eyes in the Civil War. Of her
husband she never spoke.
Her story of how she happened to come
to Colorado is one which she told Mrs.
Jackson.
"Tommy and I were living alone," she
said, in telling this phase of her story a
day or two before she died. "And he was
sort of delicate. I took in washing to sup-
port us, and one day the clothes came to
me wrapped in a newspaper. The paper
told all about Colorado, and I remember
reading, 'They don't die in Colorado ; they
have to kill them to fill the graveyards.'
"I immediately thought of Tommy and
of the chances of saving him, and so I
sold the little place and started West
with a horse and wagon. My box con-
taining my household goods and my
feather bed became too heavy for the old
horse to pull, and a man we met on the
way freighted it through for me with his
things. When I reached Pueblo I could
not find it, and it was a year later that it
was sent me from some place in Kansas.
I was in Las Animas then, and every one
in the town knew when 'Grandma's box'
arrived, and they all gathered to see me
open it.
"Yes, it was a hard life for an old wo-
man with a sick boy, but I am all right
now; Tommy's well and strong, and as
soon as God is ready I am going home to
rest."
And she has gone.
OBSCURITY
BY
DONALD B. TOBEY
kAME glanced a moment on my eager face,
And placed the crown upon another's head;
Bereft and barren seemed the petty place
Where long my fretting, fettered footsteps led.
Until one day in Nature's solitudes,
I found companionship and learned content.
For there where seldom human foot intrudes
Were hidden gems proclaiming His intent.
In forest fastnesses the orchids hide,
The seas hold richer pearls than any mart,
And all by one perfected plan abide —
T am content with my appointed part.
OUR SURFMEN
BY
JOANNA NICHOLLS KYLE
PHOTOGRAPHS FURNISHED BY S. I. KIMBALL.
OFF ! Here he
comes !" A simulta-
neous burst of ap«
plause went up from
a handsomely dressed
group of men and
women, members of
the Clover Club, as-
sembled in one of Philadelphia's largest
hotels, as their guest of the evening en-
tered— bluff, weather-beaten Captain
Mark Casto, who has risked his life in
volunteer service, taking his fishing vessel
out to the stranded steamer "Cherokee/
to assist the life saving crew of Atlantic
City then struggling against fearful odds
to rescue her passengers.
We catch up the cry and echo it: Hats
off to our noble life savers ! Honor to the
valiant surfmen who guard our coasts !
Theirs is a life of daily hardship, peril, ex-
posure and exhausting toil, independent
of those occasions in the event of a ship-
wreck which call forth acts of .super-
human strength and heroism. Our little
army of life-savers, now more than two
thousand strong, are enlisted annually for
the service after a rigid physical exami-
nation. They reside at their respective
stations, at lonely, desolate localities, iso-
lated from human association — on the At-
lantic and Gulf Coasts, from the first of
August to the last of May (the open sea-
son), on the lake shores from the opening
of navigation early in the spring till its
close, some time in December, on the
Pacific Coast throughout the entire year,
because the accidents occurring here are
due to independent local causes, not to
changes of season. Only one day's absence
from duty is allowed to each man during
his year of enlistment. Every hour of
every day has its appointed task — care of
the station, drill with the beach appara-
tus, watch from the tower, and drill with
the life boats, the last always a hazard-
ous performance, not infrequently attend-
ed with drowning. By night, patrol of the
beach is maintained in spite of wintry
storms. Fighting against wind and rain,
snow and darkness, the surfman trudges
on his beat, ever f^ert to warn some ves-
sel from running into danger or render
aid to those involved already in disaster.
No words can measure the depth of un-
speakable comfort conveyed by that crim-
son flash from the life saver's torch. To
the ship-wrecked it announces that their
OUR SURFMEN.
261
distress is known and help is coming!
The first rude contrivances for saving
life and property on the seaboard of the
United States were established by the
Massachusetts Humane Society, in 1791,
but it was not till many years later that
our Government took any practical inter-
est in this work, when revenue cutters
were ordered to cruise along the shore in
winter to assist merchant vessels in pos-
sible distress, and a few poorly equipped
stations were erected at points of special
danger. Thirty-six years ago, Hon. Sum-
ner I. Kimball was appointed Chief of
the Revenue Marine; when the benevolent
little adjunct to his bureau found an en-
thusiastic friend and patron. Under the
direction of Mr. Kimball, life saving be-
came an important feature; its area was
widely extended, and finally, through the
championship of Hon. S. S. Cox, in the
House of Representatives, a separate bu-
and which commanded success at every
move. In a recent interview he said : "I've
got a fight on my hands at present. I am
always fighting for the service, I believe.
It cost me a twenty-year battle to rid it of
politics, and now I'm struggling to get
a bill through Congress giving us a re-
tired list like the army and navy. The
revenue cutter service has recently been
granted a retired list, and I think our
men are entitled to the same."
At the present time there are 278 life
saving stations in the United States, on
some portions of the coast placed at such
short intervals that they form chains of
continuous posts within communicating
distance of each other, while in contrast
with this large number the whole Pacific
Coast has but seventeen. True to its
name, this coast is a peaceful one. From
the port of San Francisco extending south
the climate is so bland that wrecks are of
reau was created, in 1878, and Mr. Kim-
ball in recognition of his exceptional fit-
ness for the post, was appointed General
Superintendent of the Life Saving Ser-
vice, a position which he still occupies. He
is an indefatigable worker and continues
to feel the same warm affection for his
duties that characterized his early efforts
rare occurrence, while the northern part
of the seaboard is irregular, bold and un-
broken, and contains but few harbors. The
prevailing winds are veritable monsoons,
and blow, not towards the shore, but along
its line. The weather, therefore, is easily
forecast, and navigation is practically
safe, but there are, however, a few ex-
THE ORLEANS CHEW.
tremely dangerous points, mostly situ-
ated at the entrance to important har-
bors. A striking illustration of these facts
is the bar at Humboldt harbor, California.
Accidents here are so startlingly sudden
that upon one occasion a schooner cap-
sized and her entire crew of eight men
were lost before any attempt could be
made to save them. The masts of the ves-
sel were snapped by contact with the bar,
and she was turned keel uppermost — the
whole sad affair from the instant she was
overtaken by the destroying waves till
she was drifting a helpless wreck having
occupied only a few moments. The wind
was blowing fresh off land at the time, but
the sea was rough on the bar, and the
captain had under-estimated the difficulty
of entering the harbor.
One of the finest rescues ever enacted
in the history of the Life Saving Service
took place at this locality. Its object was
the steamer "Weeott," having on board a
crew of seventeen men and seven passen-
gers, December 1, 1899, which, attempt-
ing to cross the bar at Humboldt Harbor,
met with instant and appalling catastro-
phe. It is a curious coincidence that the
steamer "Chilkat" stranded at the same
port in a precisely similar manner eight
months earlier in the year. The captain
of the "Weecott" had waited nearly an
hour for a flood tide, and the water ap-
peared to be smooth, but so treacherous is
the spot that just as the vessel reached
the outer edge of the bar a huge comber
of green water burst on board with tre-
mendous force, smashing in the after end
of the house, staving to pieces two life
boats, floating the cabin and engine room,
and carrying away part of the rigging.
In another minute the vessel broached
broadside to and began to roll with fright-
ful violence, the waves breaking over her
constantly, while a powerful current be-
gan to carry her around the south jetty.
There she tossed for half an hour before
she struck the rocks, with so heavy and
sudden a shock that the main mast went
by the board and one seaman was hurled
from the rigging to the deck and killed
instantly. It was now pitch dark, and
great seas were rushing over the deck,
breaking at times mast-head high.
Meanwhile the disaster had been wit-
nessed by two surfmen in the watch tower
of the adjacent life-saving station, who
ran to give the alarm, and within two
minutes a boat was launched and being
propelled "with all the energy and
DUE SUKFMEN.
263
strength of willing men bent on sav-
ing human life." They made marvelous
speed, but attempting to pull around the
end of the jetty, they were met by an ugly
sea indeed. Again and again, with dia-
bolic opposition, a big comber would pick
up the resolute little bark and throw it
fifty yards astern, but the men tugged
desperately at the oars for half an hour,
when surfman Nelson, who was in com-
mand, observing that the wreck had
worked in near the shore, determined to
land in hopes of being able to reach her
with the lines carried in the boat. Pulling
back to smooth water, the surfmen landed
and made their way over the trestle
abreast of the wreck, but they soon dis-
covered that the vessel was too far off to
be assisted without the beach apparatus.
Hailing her captain, Nelson told him to
try to hold on for half an hour, while he
returned to the station for the necessary
appliances, at the same time warning him
against the risk of quitting the ship.
A scylla and charybdis of surf and rocks
lay between the ship and the mainland.
Back to the station sped the surfmen,
loaded the beach ^apparatus into their
boat, and brought it to the nearest land-
ing. But now they were confronted by
the necessity of hauling it up from the
rocks to the trestle. Determination and
main strength overcame this obstacle, and
the various parts were then parceled out
to the men, keeper Hennig and one man
carrying the heavy whip line, the inde-
fatigable Nelson shouldering the Lyle
gun, a weight of fully 175 pounds, and
leading the way. The surf was breaking
over the trembling frame work, darkness
—inky black — enveloped the scene, and it
was almost a miracle that the heavily bur-
dened men ever reached their destination.
With dogged patience they tramped on,
for every moment was precious. The cap-
tain of the doomed vessel had answered
that he could probably hold on half an
hour longer, but had implored them to
make haste. The life savers were short
one man, too, for hardly had they landed
when they came across a disabled man
crying out for help. He was lying in a
pool of water, in imminent danger of
drowning, and surfman Ericksen had been
A WRECK OFF CAPE COD.
CAPSIZING TEST WITH THIRTY-FOUR FOOT LIFE BOAT.
detailed to take charge of him. After ad-
ministering a stimulant, Ericksen took off
his own dry woolen shirt and put it on the
poor fellow, then lifted him on his back
and carried him to the nearest dwelling,
an arduous task in the darkness, for the
path was long and cijcuitous, around
fences and rocks, over eand hills and
through pools of water waist deep. The
task accomplished, Ericksen, though half
naked, rejoined his mates on the jetty,
where the keeper gave him another woolen
shirt, as he was himself wearing two.
When about half way to the wreck, the
party met the ship's engineer crawling
shoreward over the slippery timbers, but
he seemed able to help himself, so they
only hailed him with a word of encourage-
ment and passed on to their more urgent
work. The wreck had by now worked in
to about eighty feet from the trestle, and
five sailors had taken the risk of jumping
overboard and had effected a landing. A
heaving line had been thrown to them
from the ship by means of which they had
hauled out a two and a half inch rope. In
this rope they had rigged a sling, and
with the rude contrivance had proceeded
to bring their fellow sufferers ashore. One
of the ship's crew and a lady passenger
had made the perilous trip in safety, but
the life of the second lady who attempted
to cross the maelstrom had been sacrificed.
After she had been dashed out of the sling
by a breaker the line had fouled among
the rocks and could not be cleared. The
unfortunate seamen were thoroughly dis-
'heartened by their failure ; the trestle was
swaying under the repeated blows of the
surf, and they could scarcely keep their
footing, when the arrival of the life sav-
ing crew inspired new hope and spirit.
Communication had to be re-established
with the wreck, but an end of the heavy
whip-line was caught up by one of the
sailors, a powerful fellow, and hurled
successfully on board. Eagerly it was
seized by the anxious sufferers, then with
an impatience bred of fear they hauled
out the hawser so fast and persistently
against all protestations that there was
no time to adjust the breeches buoy block.
Surfman Nelsen deftly bent a bight of
the whip line to the buoy, and let it go.
His after testimony in the case says:
"They hauled it right out of my hands.
We were not men enough to stop them."
There was no delay in the operations from
OUR SUEFMEN.
265
that time onward. Fourteen persons were
taken from the wreck, the captain, as is
usual, being the last to quit his ship. He
had hardly set foot upon the trestle before
"the wreck made a sudden lurch forward,
a heavy sea broke over her, she leaned over
to one side, and shot away out of sight."
And now began the precarious journey to
the mainland, nearly a mile over the open
frame work of timbers three feet apart,
with two stringers on them, where any one
of the forlorn company might fall through
and be lost. Fireman Quinn had a broken
leg and a lady passenger was suffering
agonies from a fractured spine, injuries
The currents at this locality are capricious
and utterly unreliable. Even in calm
weather and without warning, great comb-
ers arise unexpectedly and pile up on the
river bar, extending their baleful influ-
ence within the estuary and threatening to
capsize the little fleet of boats engaged
in taking salmon. There are at least thir-
teen hundred of these tiny craft pursuing
their venturesome vocation daily, each
requiring two men to manage it, a boat
puller and a net tender. As the remunera-
tion of these poor fishermen depends up-
on their diligence during a short period,
are supposed to be more plentiful and
WRECK OP SCHOONEB ELWOOD BTTBTON, CAPE COD.
incurred when the vessel first struck. Both
disabled persons had to be carried, but
the wharf was finally reached without fur-
ther mishap, and they passed on board a
steamer which was generously offered for
their use by its owner and were thence
transferred to the life saving station.
Other casualties besides those which
may happen to large vessels are provided
against by the life saving service. At the
mouth of the Columbia river, a spot
peculiarly treacherous, it has placed two
stations to guard the fishermen who come
here annually for their catch of salmon.
continuing their labors far into the night.
Familiarity with the dangers of their call-
ing also renders them careless, and many
a life would be lost were they not watched
over from the tower on the bluff at Cap<
Disappointment Station. In case of need
an alarm gun is fired, and the surf men's
boat, which also patrols the fishing
grounds, is directed to the spot of the
casualty by signals. At a meeting of the
Council of Federated Trades of Astoria,
Oregon in 1893, a vote of thanks was
they naturally incur extraordinary risks,
sein close to the breakers where salmon
OIJK SUKFMEtf.
267
rendered to the Cape Disappointment
crew for their "heroic, noble and grand
work in rescuing the lives of fishermen at
the risk of their own."
An incident of which the life saving
service may well be proud, while it mourns
the loss of a gallant leader, was the "ven-
ture in which Keeper Henry lost his life.
It was made in behalf of the ship Eliza-
beth, which stranded, February 21, 1891,
on Four Fathom Bank, northwest of the
entrance to San Francisco Bay, ten miles
from the Fort Point life saving station, a
locality clearly beyond the reasonable
scope of the surfmen's duties. There had
been some dispute between the captain of
the Elizabeth and the master of the tug
Alert over the price to be charged for tow-
ing her in, and an agreement was not
reached until the vessel was in imminent
peril. When she struck, signals of dis-
tress were set, and another tug steamed
to the assistance of the "Alert." The cap-
tain's wife and child were transferred to
the latter craft in safety, but when the
record of that dreadful day was written,
Captain Colcord and sixteen of his crew
were numbered with the dead. A third
tug arriving, passed her hawser to the
doomed ship, which had pounded over the
shoal and was afloat again with the loss
of her keel and leaking badly. The tes-
timony of Mate Barclay, one of her sur-
vivors, states that subsequently the ship,
with two tugs pulling on her, was driven
rapidly across the North Channel — which
is very narrow — directly on to the rocks,
and within forty-five minutes she was
splintered into fragments. Meanwhile, her
signals had been seen by a surfman of the
Golden Gate Park life saving station. A
tremendous surf was breaking on the
beach, making it impossible to launch a
boat, so the keeper telephoned the situa-
tion to the Fort Point crew, advising them
to go to the rescue. Keeper Henry bore
the reputation of a cool, courageous and
careful man, so when he ordered out the
life boat his men obeyed with absolute
faith in their leader, although the dark-
ness was intense, the sea sharp and choppy
and the wind blowing in gusts, which
mounted to hurricane speed. The tug Be-
lief, on being hailed, took the little craft
in tow and proceeded slowly, shipping
heavy seas until Point Bonita was
reached. Here the master of the tug
stopped and strongly urged Keeper Henry
not to go any further, declaring that it
was "blowing a living gale out on the
Xorth Channel, and no boat could live
outside the point." Their colloquy was
interrupted by a powerful sea which threw
the life boat partly under and athwart the
bow of the tug, and to save her from be-
ing stove the crew were ordered to cut the
tow line. The surfmen gave way at the
oars and were rapidly swallowed up in the
darkness. With a supreme effort, they
kept the life boat off the rocks toward
which the fierce gale, the strong eddy and
the heave of the sea were driving her, and
when the westerly arm of Point Diablo
was reached, it was found to be impossi-
ble to weather it. Fortunately at this
moment they were met by the tug Alert
returning in a crippled condition from her
struggle to save the Elizabeth. She
stopped and took the life boat's hawser, al-
though in the operation of making it fast,
both craft were momentarily in danger of
being hurled on the rocky shore. But the
two boats had scarcely gathered headway
when the life boat took a broad sheer and
filled with water. Her rudder was broken
SUMNER I. KIMBALL, GENERAL SUPER-
INTENDENT LIFE SAVING SERVICE.
268
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
and Keeper Henry, wh/> was steering, was
washed off into the blackness of the tem-
pest. In vain the surfmen shouted that
they had lost a man overboard; the roar
of the sea and the howling of the wind
drowned their voices until they had been
towed some distance beyond the spot of
the accident. The captain of the tug then
answered that it was too hazardous to turn
back with his vessel in such a disabled
condition; so the devoted surfmen cut
loose once more, got out their oars, and
went back alone in search of their chief.
But the enraged elements were more than
a match for even such indomitable cour-
age, and the men were finally forced to
return home thoroughly disheartened,
leaving the fiends of Point Diablo to re-
land on a raft, but about a dozen individ-
uals still remained on the sinking vessel.
Two nights had passed, and her hull had
broken in two. The men had taken refuge
in her foretop, and all through the third
day they watched the persistent struggles
of the indomitable Bergman to reach them
— undaunted by squalls of snow and the
fury of the waves. Once his boat was
capsized, once she was swamped, but the
faithful volunteers, emulating their chief's
example, renewed the battle till night-fall.
When morning dawned, however, all need
for their tireless vigil was ended — the
mast, with its living burden, had fallen
during the night.
In telling the acts of heroism performed
by our surfmen, it must not be forgotten
A WRECK ON THE LAKES.
joice above the watery grave of their vic-
tim.
Volunteer acts of heroism and self-de-
votion irr the rescue of human lives are
recognized by the life saving service the
same as if performed by surfmen under its
jurisdiction. A gold medal was awarded
to John Bergman for rescuing eighteen
persons from the wreck of the steamer
Takoma, which went aground four miles
from Umpquah river, January 29, 1883.
In spite of dissuading advice from seafar-
ing men, Bergman went out twice to the
wreck with five companies, volunteers like
himself, and at each trip brought in a
boat load of human beings. A number of
the ship's company managed to reach the
that women have helped to embellish the
records of the life saving service. Mrs.
Martha White, a resident of Chehalis
County, near Gray's Harbor, Washington,
had made it her noble mission in life to
frequent the beach in quest of such errands
of mercy as the cruel ocean might cast at
her feet. At six o'clock on the morning of
January 29, 1892, the neighbors of this
charitable woman roused her with the aw-
ful news, "A ship in the breakers." Mrs.
White and her husband made all haste
to go down to the beach, carrying with
them a field glass, a musket and a piece of
cloth for a signal. But the gale was too
strong to permit the shots fired being
heard out at sea, so Mr. White went slow-
ALL READY.
ly up the beach looking for any unfortu-
nate waifs that might be washed ashore.
While her husband was absent, Martha
White stood still, gazing intently upon
the tumbling mass of surf. Suddenly she
descried a man struggling in the breakers,
and boldly dashing into the water, she
dragged him out and aided him to walk
to her dwelling. Kunning back to the
shore, she perceived another sailor, the
unconscious toy of the surf, and fearlessly
plunging in again, she floated the helpless
body to land, and after a short time had
restored him to consciousness and placed
him under shelter. Once more she re-
turned to the scene of the tragedy, and
discovered a third sailor, a long way out
in the breakers. To reach him was a des-
perate undertaking, but the courage of
the noble woman did not quail before a
task of which she fully realized the dan-
ger. Divesting herself of some of her
cumbersome clothing, she threw herself
into the foaming sea. Once her life was
seriously imperiled, as she was overthrown
by a huge comber, but regaining her foot-
ing, she came alongside of the man and
floated him to shore. She managed to
drag him beyond the danger line, then
fell fainting from exhaustion on the sand,
where she lay till found by her husband.
The rescued men who were the sole sur-
vivors of the British bark Ferndale, with
the frankness of English sailors, made
oath that but for her timely and self-sac-
rificing assistance they must have died
within sight of land, and a gold medal
was awarded to the heroic woman.
COLLEGE AND THE WORLD
A SYMPOSIUM OF COMMENT OK THE PROBLEM
OF HIGHER EDUCATION
AT THIS time of year there are many young men and women who are debat-
ing whether or no to go to college. Will it pay? they ask. The following
three articles seek to answer this question in an entirely novel way. The three
divisions completely cover the field of opinion, and shoiv the different view-points
of the college freshman, the graduate and the successful business man of the world.
We are glad to publish this article with a view of helping some possible college stu-
dents settle the question for themselves. — 'EDITOR.
A BUSINESS MAN'S VIEW OF COLLEGE TRAINING
BY HARRIS WEINSTOCK
HAVE BEEX asked to
tell the value of a col-
lege training on the
young men that, in
my business career
have come under my
notice.
An observer of mod-
em coimiu'ivial and industrial systems
cannot but note the exacting methods now
in vogue. He cannot but observe that in
all great commercial and industrial en-
terprises costs and profits are now figured
out in percentages running to the fourth
figure. The observation is forced upon
him that the keener the growth of com-
petition the smaller the margin of profit
for the producer and distributor ; and that
the smaller the margin of profit, the more
careful and exact must be every movement
and every calculation that enters into com-
mercial and financial transactions.
The day of the careless operator, the
loose calculator and the indifferent worker
is gone for good in every walk of life and
in every occupation that is not in the
nature of a monopoly.
This means that the business world of
to-day demands men who are exact and
thorough, who are reliable and depend-
able. The business world demands this
and more besides. It demands for execu-
tive and managerial positions men who are
not only exact and thorough, but who can
at one and the same time specialize and
generalize, who can reason backward and
COLLEGE AND THE WORLD.
271
forward, that is, from cause to effect and
from effect to cause.
The all-around business man is the one
who can theorize as well as practice, who
cannot only do things, but who can ex-
plain the theory or the philosophy upon
which things are done, who can take an
idea, develop and exploit it, and who can
also take a proposition, dissect and
analyze it.
A man who has entered business from
the grammar or high school may learn to
do all this in the course of a great many
years of experience. Here is where the
work of the college comes in. The young
man who has put his four years in college
to good account has trained his mind so
that, first of all, he should be able to con-
centrate it upon any given task. He should
have cultivated an intellectual machine
that can dissect and analyze any proposi-
tion that may come before him. He should
have taught himself to reason backward
and forward, to trace out the causes from
effects and to forecast the effect of cer-
tain causes.
With the sharpened faculties at his com-
mand, he should learn in active business
life in five years what it is likely to take
the man with the untrained mind twenty
years to learn.
If he started with fair mentality and
made the most of his collegiate opportuni-
ties, his years of study have therefore sim-
ply been a matter of putting out his time
where it is likely to bring him compound
interest. So that after all, a university
training should, despite long years of pre-
paration, prove in the end a short cut to
reach the best practical results.
Business alone can give and does give
admirable training. This has been made
evident by the splendid specimens of men
to be found everywhere in the business
world, who had little or no early educa-
tional advantages, but business alone, as
a rule, does not give the best training.
That comes from college experience,
broadened by actual business experience.
The blending of the two should, as a rule,
give the highest type of men of affairs.
Were I asked whether, in my opinion,
all college men are likely to prove to be of
this type, I should answer that I have in
my time met college men whose university
training seemed to have proven to them of
great value, and I have met others who
could not have been less fit, if their col-
lege years had been spent merely in count-
ing beads. So much, after all, depends
on the man. A young man with the right
sort of stuff in him is likely to land in the
front rank of like's activities, even though
he be a graduate of a third-rate college, or
of no other college than the college of
"hard knocks," and the chap without the
stuff in him will fail, despite his diploma,
signed by the president of the greatest col-
lege in the land.
Given a blade, for example, made out of
good steel, and the grind-stone will bring
out the'best in it, and perfect an edge that
will do things to surprise the beholder.
But given a blade made out of base metal
and the world's finest grind-stone practi-
cally fails. So it is with the student. If
he has wits, and brings them to college,
they will be sharpened and his powers
will be increased. If he is barren, the
college can do little for him.
I cannot recall one instance of a young
man entering college with bad habits, low
tendencies and poor mentalities, coming
out of college reformed morally or sharp-
ened intellectually. Instances, however,
have come to my notice where young men
of previous good habits, have been unable
to stand up against college temptations,
and have become dissipated in college and
acquired bad habits, and despite a good
mentality, have proven a keen disap-
pointment. The things most to be feared
from a college course is the undesirable
habits likely to be acquired while there.
By a careful analysis, however, of the
biographies in America's "Who's Who," it
has been found that although but one per
cent of the men of the country are col-
lege bred, they represent fifty per cent of
the distinguished men in the various walks
of political, commercial and financial life.
This is a wonderful showing for the col-
lege.
The point of failure noticeable in some
college men who have taken social science,
commercial or culture courses, is theit
lack of exactness, the want of thoroughness
in what they do. The problem with them
seems to be how to get through, rather
than how to perfect their work. They do
not seem to realize that it is better to eat
little food and have that well digested.
272
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
than to gobble up much that simply clogs
the human system. They seem to have
cultivated the habit in college of getting
through the task in hand as speedily aa
possible, with little thought of master-
ing it in detail. These habits of super-
ficiality must in active life retard their
growth and impede their progress. Next
to character and health, the most valuable
asset that any man, the college man not
excepted, can" have, is the habit of doing
things thoroughly.
One of the great marvels of the pres-
ent age is the wonderful strides made in
the direction of the utilization of waste
materials. The statement is made that in
the great pork packing houses of the coun-
try everything about the hog is utilized,
except the squeal and the curl in the tail,
and it is said there are hopes somehow,
somewhere of utilizing even these. The
great achievement of the coming age will
be the utilization of waste labor, so that,
despite the shortening of the hours of toil
more will be accomplished by each indi-
vidual giving forth his highest and best,
thus tending to perfect the human species,
and thus also increasing its earning power.
Herbert Spencer asked the question:
"What knowledge is most worth know-
ing?" And after a careful analysis of dif-
ferent kinds of knowledge reached the
conclusion that science is the knowledge
most worth knowing. Spencer's conclusion
is as true to-day as when he uttered it.
The most effective man, as a rule, is the
man who has knowledge that has been
gained and verified by exact observation
and exact thinking." It is for this rea-
son that . the scientific training afforded
by an engineering course is of inestima-
ble value in many walks of life. It does
not follow that a college man who has
taken his degree as an engineer will there-
after be exact in his observations or in
his thinking.
He is more likely to be so, however,
than if he has followed any other colle-
giate career. The mathematical train-
ing, which an engineering course enforces,
the exactness and correctness imposed by
his studies, are likely to tend toward hab-
its of thoroughness and rigid mental dis-
cipline, which must prove to him of great
value in any walk of life.
History is important. Philosophy is
important. Languages are important.
General culture is important. Yet were
I to advise a young man about to enter
college, with a business career in mind,
I should urge him by all means to take
an engineering course, even though he
should not intend in active life to put his
scientific training to professional use. I
should advise him to take an engineering
course, not only for its mental training
and discipline, but for the power it gives
in analysis, the love that it cultivates in
him for being exact in his work and in
his statements.
The man whose mind has been trained
in the sciences is more likely to be the
one to devise ways for the utilization of
waste labor, whose keen powers of obser-
vation should enable him to see weak spots
and how to strengthen them.
What the world is more and more de-
manding is efficiency, and all other things
equal, the man with the scientific train-
ing is likely to be the most efficient.
The weak spot in most men, the weak
spot as a rule, in college men, is taking
things for granted. Science strives to
prove its case. As a rule it must see the
bricks before it will believe that the house
will be built. It demands proof before it
reaches conclusions. The men to-day
who command the world's highest rewards
and who are of greatest service to their
fellows are those who have exact know-
ledge and use it for creative purposes.
What is called unerring judgment is not
generally intuitive. It is the result, as
a rule, of the most exact observation and
the most correct thinking. The man
whose mind has not been disciplined,
whose thoughts wander hither and thither,
who cannot analyze a problem, who acts
from impulse and not from reflection, is
not in a mental condition to observe close-
ly or to think correctly. At best, he is
likely to become a mere putterer, vacillat-
ing in thought and in action. To be a
successful doer of things, one must first
be a seer of things. Euskin says, "Hun-
dreds of men can talk for one who can
think; thousands of men can think for
one who can see. To see clearly is poetry,
philosophy and religion all in one."
In the decades of the past the college
man seeking commercial employment was
discounted. He was looked upon bv prac-
PRESIDENT DAVID STARR JORDAN OF STANFORD UNIVERSITY.
274
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
tical men as a mere book-worm, unwilling
to begin with the drudgery at the bottom
in order to learn business from the ground
up. No doubt the. air of scholasticism
that the college of the past imparted to
its graduates justified this feeling of pre-
judice against the holders of its diplo-
mas. There are some countries where this
feeling may be justified even to-day. It is
said to be a significant fact that "a large
portion of Paris cabmen are unsuccessful
students in theology and other professions
and unfrocked priests, and they are very
bad cabmen." But the American college
bred man of to-day, especially the college
man whose mind has been trained in the
sciences, as a rule, is of a different breed.
The modern college earnestly strives to
teach men how to think and how to do
things. Captains of trade and industry
are discovering more and more that a
young man, who has made the most of
his time during his college years is so
equipped that he can learn in five years
what it may take the man with an un-
trained mind about twenty years to ac-
quire.
The college of yesterday trained men
almost exclusively for purposes of cul-
ture. The colleges of to-day, especially
the scientific branches, strive to give an
education for efficiency. It has been
pointed out that "the man with brains
needs a corresponding degree of educa-
tion. The greater the natural fitness, the
greater the need for thorough training
and the more worthy the result/'
The business world of to-day more than
ever before is seeking efficient men, men
who know the correct principles of inves-
tigation, who have the power to reason
from cause to effect, and from effect to
cause ; who can concentrate attention upon
a given subject, whose powers have been
quickened and developed. All other things
equal, the man with the trained mind is
more likely to possess these qualifications,
hence is also likely to prove the more effi-
cient man.
The successful men of the next genera-
tion will have to be thoroughly scientific
in their methods. Their efficiency will
have to be of the highest and they will
have to possess the faculty of bringing out
the highest efficiency 'in their subordi-
nates.
The college trained man, because of his
adaptability, his quickness and alertness
of mind, and because of his largely in-
creased numbers, is going to revolutionize
conditions in the coming industrial and
commercial world. The college will
strengthen his powers, ripen and mature
his judgment, raise his standards and
shorten his apprenticeship in the field of
practical affairs. This will be the advan-
tage he will gain by virtue of his college
training; on the other hand, his higher
efficiency and his shorter apprenticeship
in the world of practical affairs, will be
the advantage gained by the business
world and by society for its generous sup-
port of its numerous schools of higher
learning.
JUST OUT OF COLLEGE
BY DENISON HALLEY CLIFT
F WHAT good has a
college education
been to me? Has it
been worth the money
spent, the valuable
four years devoted to
it, and, what is more
pertinent, has it in-
fluenced me during the four most impres-
sionable years of my life in such a way as
to develop in me the best powers that I
have to offer the world and society?
These are questions that are asked by
hundreds of thousands of vigorous, prom-
ising young men all over the country every
spring. They involve a degree of serious-
ness which becomes obvious when we re-
member that thousands of young men are
being added to the number of graduates
of our American universities every year.
Is a college course worth while? Is it
a good investment for $2,000? Will such
COLLEGE AND THE WORLD.
275
a training enable the man and woman of
to-day to do their work better than the un-
trained brother and sister who may work
beside them in the factory, in the engi-
neer's office, in the newspaper world?
To those young men who go to college
to better themselves, I would answer most
decidedly, yes. But to the man who at-
tends a university for the sport that is in
it, for the dances and social good times
that college brings to him — there will be
nothing in it for that fellow but the im-
mediate pleasure of college society.
A college community is a world in itself,
wherein all the learning and culture of
the past is brought to the door of him who
will enter. But the memorizing of this
learning is not what a college stands for.
The subjects of study is only the vehicle
by which the aim of the college is wrought.
•It is in the methods of study, in the train-
ing of the human mind, that the real
worth of our universities finds its ex-
pression. The American college does not
aim to fill its students with final know-
ledge on all subjects ; it tries primarily to
arouse and develop the dormant powers
of the individual, to awaken their minds
to the real worth and value of the achieve-
ments of their fellow-men, to so train the
intellect that it will know in just what
manner a piece of work can be done the
best and the quickest.
Four years ago a freshman class entered
Stanford University with all the ambi-
tions and enthusiasms of first year stu-
dents. In his welcoming address to that
class, Dr. David Starr Jordan, the beloved
head of the University, told them what
the university would offer them, and said
he hoped they would take advantage of
their opportunities. "And after you have
been here for four years," he concluded,
"you will come to realize that a straight
line is the shortest distance between two
points."
The expression was a striking one, but
it made little impression then on those
' who listened to it. But the years passed
on, we became more mature, we began to
reap some of the benefits that were given
free to us, and when at last we stood on
the threshold of the world, the expression
was given to us again. And then we un-
derstood for the first time.
"The shortest line between two points."
That is the key note of our modern educa-
tion. The trouble with most of the men
of this world who are occupying menial
positions is that they do not realize that
a straight line is the shortest distance
between any two points. The line that
they draw when they strive to connect two
points is a very crooked one, roundabout
and very out of place.
What is meant by drawing this straight
line is simple enough. It means that there
is just one effective way in which to ac-
complish a given task, and that the man
who understands what the best way is, is
the man who will succeed best in this day
of keen and bitter competition.
The aim of the college is to teach the
man how to draw the straight line, and
there is no other institution in the world
that is better prepared to do this than
our universities.
To arouse and develop a man's talents
is to give him an opportunity to find out
just what thing he can do better than any-
one else, and then to train him until he
has reached the maximum o f per-
fection. That is the quality of a man that
the world is demanding to-day. This is
the age of the specialist, and the man who
can do one thing better than every one
else is the one whose success will never be
retarded.
The best estimate of a college training
that has ever come to my attention is a
little golden book by President Jordan,
called "College and the Man." No man
who intends going to college should neg-
lect reading it. There, in the soundest
and sanest manner is set forth the emolu^
ments of education.
"The whole of your life must be spent
in your own company, and only the edu-
cated man is good company to himself,"
is one of the many basic truths of the vol-
ume. I wonder how many readers ever
thought of that before? There is no bet-
ter method of making yourself agreeable
company for yourself than through the
medium of higher education. Through
the portals of the college the ages are laid
before you in one grand panorama; the
record of the progress of civilization is told
to you in the evolution of a nation's lan-
guage; all the history of the world is un-
folded, from the dawn of civilization to
the Renaissance, with its gigantic awaken-
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
ings, to the present age, with discovery and
advancement marked in every forward
step of the nations of the world.
From the standpoint of mere culture
that is reward enough. Your education
will give you a certain understanding of
what men have done since the world be-
gan. You will know just how the nations
have stepped forth as powers, and what
elements in society have seeked to form the
degrading characteristics that have
brought about their ruin. All this, you
say, will not bring you a larger salary
each week or month. Not immediately —
but we are coming to that.
The individual makes the nation, makes
society, makes up the character of the
race. If the race is to be one of rugged-
ness and supremacy, the individual must
be rugged and healthy-minded. The blood
that flows through the veins of the aver-
age man will be the blood of the nation.
So, as has so painfully often been pointed
out, in the education of the individual lies
the salvation of the country.
Nothing can better bring about the
amelioration of present social conditions
than higher education. Our college
softens the animal man, and strengthens
the mental and moral make-up of the in-
dividual. And a man is far better com-
pany for himself after he has spent four
years at college.
The college will do only what the man
allows it to. A book will yield only so
much entertainment and profit as the
reader is able and willing to get from it.
But all the entertainment and profit is
there for the reader to take freely.
Still, this will not sufficiently answer
the demands of the layman as to the direct
benefits of a college training. How will it
enable us to make more money? they ask
of us. What will we get back from our
$3,000 investment ?
It is easy enough to answer this if the
reader will only be willing to see for him-
self. The American college has one aim
above all others in educating its youths.
That aim is to so train and drill the mind
that the man with the college education
will know how to go about a given task,
and how best to accomplish it in a given
time. Life is made up of a million tasks.
The man who best does these things is the
better man. No one will doubt this.
Only the other day I heard a business
man ask a college graduate a question in
equity. The college man was at a loss for
a moment. "Why, you ought to know;
you're a college man," jeered the business
man. But that was no particular reason
why the educated fellow should have
known. He isn't supposed to know every-
thing. His university didn't try to make
a walking encyclopedia out of him. What
it did try to do was to teach him just how
to find the answer to the question. And
I'd wager ten to one that the college man
would know instantly where to turn to
find the answer, where the business man
might flounder around hopelessly.
The mind of the college man is trained
to know how to do things. .He knows that
a straight line is the shortest distance be-
tween two points and he draws the straight
line. That is, he does if he has gotten out'
of college what he should have gotten.
Every college man is not better than the
uneducated man. The college only fur-
nishes the opportunity. The man must
have the brains and the faculties for learn-
ing and acquiring how to do things.
In most of the professions of San Fran-
cisco the university men are the more
prominent. In all the newspaper offices,
men from Stanford and the University of
California are at the head. Among doc-
tors, lawyers and leading business men
the college man occupies a prominent
position. They are able to do in five years
what it takes the uneducated man fifteen
or twenty years to dig out for himself.
The university man knows how to draw
the straight line between two points. He
has been trained to think. The routine
of his college days — if he has gotten the
most out of it — should enable him to see.
His minds and wits are sharpened. His
brain is a regular, clock-like machine. He
can look ahead and see the result of his
efforts. His mind has been made accu-
rate. He does not vacillate weakly. He
is able to grasp facts, to reason, to ob-
serve, better than the brother who has
worked the thing out alone.
In addition to this the college-bred man
is able to put a value on the work of
others. He can tell the worth of a man,
because he has the criterion of the ages to
judge by. He does not worship false
gods in his ignorance. He knows a thing
COLLEGE AND THE WORLD.
277
is good because his college work has given
him the best that the world can offer to
judge by; he can tell what is bad for the
reason that he knows what such a thing
should be. His mind is thoroughly awak-
ened. He knows the quickest way to solve
a mathematical problem because he knows
would shun, and much that I would do
that I neglected to do. The four years
spent at Stanford or the University of
California, or any other college, are the
best years of a man's life. Nothing is
asked of him but soundness of character
and an attitude of willingness to learn.
PRESIDENT BENJAMIN IDE WHEELER OF THE UNIVERSITY OF
CALIFORNIA. *
a great deal about mathematics, more
than he really needs to know to solve this
particular problem.
A man never appreciates his alma mater
until he has graduated. Were I to go
to college again there is much that I
Everything is offered to him; the gates
are freely opened to him who will enter.
And having once entered, he will be
thrown among men of all classes. There
will be rich young fellows whose only am-
bitions are to sport and enjoy a high old
278
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
time. These butterflies and namby-
pamby youths are the blood-suckers of a
university. They are parasites who usu-
ally lack real ambition, and after their
two or three flighty years are over, you
will never hear of them again, unless it
be in an automobile scandal at midnight.
On the other hand, the back-bone of the
nation will be found at the American
universities to-day. These men are the
men who go to a college because they
realize that a college training will allow
them to get higher up in this world of
ours. These fellows are not sent, as Dr.
Jordan points out in his valuable book.
And after ail is said, the fellow who sac-
rifices something and struggles to get his
college training is the fellow whom you
and I will hear from five or ten years
from now.
THE QUADRANGLE, STANFORD UNIVERSITY.
WHY I AM GOIl^G TO COLLEGE
BY BERTRAM WELLS
AM almost too ashamed
to write this, and
were it not for the
fact that hundreds of
others are in the same
position that I now
find myself, I would
not. The editor has
asked me why I am* going to college, and
I must answer, I don't know. I enter
in August, when the class of 1911 makes
its bow to the academic world, but that
is because my parents have chosen so, not
for any very definite reason of my
own.
There is a certain joy in being able to
call oneself a college man, and that may
account for my docility in being led to
slaughter. An infinite amount of respect
seems to be commanded by the fellow who
wears a numerald watch-fob, talks of
"rushes," "booze-fights," and "queens,"
and strides along in baggy trowsers, with
a bull-dog pipe between his teeth. The
rest of the world looks up to him; the
newspapers talk about him; his position
excuses a multitude of sins. The college
man lives in a world of his own, and as
long as he stays there, may do things
nobody else would dare to do. When he
emerges he may talk of these doings and
the tone of his voice as he does so has a
COLLEGE AND THE WOELD.
279
subtle charm to the outsider, and creates
an envy.
Or curiosity? Perhaps it's that. The
college man home on a vacation .speaks of
"ax rallies/' "plug-uglies/' "night-shirt
parades/' until you want to know more.
But his .explanations are futile; you must
see these things, live with them, partici-
pate in them, before you can understand
the spirit infused. All the explaining that
the enthusiastic university fellow may give
does no more than heighten curiosity.
Therefore, I say, perhaps it is this curi-
osity that brought no protest from me
when college was broached. I am curious
to know why dignified, almost-men can
lower their pride to take part in child-like
rushes and plug-uglies; curious to know
the spirit that rouses them to the point
of foolishness; curious to know how it
feels to be an insider.
The life itself is an unconscious draw-
ing card. The college student lives as no
other part of humanity lives; and he
lives, in the slang sense of the word. He
has no regular hours, which is an attrac-
tion far beyond many others. He may
have classes all morning, and be free in
the afternoon; or he may have three
classes on Monday, Wednesday and Fri-
day, and two on Tuesday and Thursday,
with his afternoons off. Some of the un-
lucky ones work from morning till night.
But whatever the hours, they are irregu-
lar, which means the student may rise
when he wishes, dine as he will, and do
what he wants at almost any time of day.
In the afternoons he may be a spectator
on the grand-stand and watch the teams
practice, or he may go to town and spend
his time and his money in various ways.
His evenings are given over to pleasures
beyond mention. If he is a fraternity man
he sits around huge fireplaces, swapping
stories and talking of his plans; or he
queens, which is college slang for asso-
ciating with co-eds. The man outside the
fraternities has his societies and his
clubs. Dancing and dramatics are a big
help in passing time. To sum it all up,
college life is a thing of beauty and a
joy forever, and it may be that which at-
tracts me.
But all those things — the joy of being
able to call oneself a college man; the
curiosity of the thing, the life are, after
all, only incidental to what has just come
into my mind. I think I have found my
great reason for going to college — have
found it in the fact that I am big and
strong and healthy — have found it in
sport.
Athletics are paramount at college. No
matter the institution, or the situation,
sports hold first place in every student's
mind — be he laggard or "grind." A uni-
versity is known by the athletics it keeps.
Deep in the heart of every high-school
youth is instilled a burning desire to one
day be the idol of a hero-worshipping col-
lege student body, and he knows that the
successful athlete is the only man who
can obtain such pre-eminence. Long ago
I was fired with that ambition through
seeing bleacherites go mad over a great
play, and through newspaper accounts.
The desire has grown with my age, until
this minute I find that it is almost for the
sake of athletics alone that I am going to
college, without first asking myself why.
As for study, I can say little. College
talk, I have heard, dealt with athletics
and the life. The papers contain nothing
in the way of university news outside of
scandal, small talk and sport; and the col-
lege man never speaks of his books when
away from them. And so I cannot say
that I go to college to learn, though I sup-
pose I shall.
The other day I was talking to an un-
successful college man — one of the many
"graduates by request," who manage to
stay in college a year or so, and then
"flunk." He sneered when I told him of
my plans. "A freshman," said he, "is a
fool; and fools rush in where angels fear
to tread." Throw out the athletics, and
perhaps that is why I take up my parents'
choice, and ask no questions. I say per-
haps, for I don't know.
THE GOLD OF SUN-DANCE
CANYON
BY C. JUSTIN KENNEDY
ILLUSTRATED BY CLYDE COOKE.
ARVEY STEWART
shifted sullenly be-
side the camp fire.
Why was it she could
not let him alone? It
was gold, gold he
wanted. For years
he had wandered
through the Rockies, and the Selkirks,
and the Gold Range, seeking at eternal
sacrifice of self the yellow lodes ; starving,
sweating, freezing, with never a gleam of
comfort or of color, suffering, yet faithful
always to the quest. And then for her to
write to him, chidingly, reproachfully, as
though the life he led were happiness, and
not despair. She talked of the full, far
freedom of the mountains, that was his !
Little he cared for the mountains or their
freedom, save only for the gold they held :
his was no soul of mystery, that craved
the sweetness of the wilderness.
"And yet," he muttered, "she writes
and writes and writes, 'enjoying your life,
while I am left here, all alone, with no
friends, nothing.' Nothing, indeed! As
if she hadn't every comfort and conven-
ience, and me exposed to every kind of
hardship."
He snatched the letter from his pocket
and crumpling it angrily, threw it in the
flames.
"What in hell did she marry me for,
if she couldn't stand it?"
But a sudden sense of heartlessness
struggled in his breast, and he snatched
up a stick to pull the letter from the fire ;
it was too late, the paper was in ashes.
"Poor little girl," he thought, relenting,
"if she knew that!"
"Please, please, Garvey," she had writ-
ten, "come back to me — I cannot stand it.
I am so tired, so tired. I have waited
all alone for six months. A woman can-
not stand those things, especially when she
loves a man. Oh, Garvey, can't you un-
derstand? I am so tired. I know I told
you it would be all right, when you took
me from home, but a woman will tell a
man anything to get the object of her love,
and it is so much harder than I thought."
So she went on; she wanted him to
come back and take her away from the
city ; she was not used to that ; she wanted
to go over in the Yakima, where men had
come upon the desert, and building in
their flumes, drawn water from the moun-
tains, until to-day the sands were fragrant
with the bloom of orchards and the dust
had turned to sward. Aye, she craved the
sunshine and the sweetness of it all. But
he would not come ; the gold, the gold was
what he sought, and the momentary love
of woman was as ashes in his heart, a
faded thing. The very cruelty of that
trifling act, the burning of the letter, had
worked its own reaction. All that night
he lay upon the blankets, restless; the
starlight sifted lightly through the
spruces, and the great white peaks loomed
strangely through the Northern night,
but these things had no mystery for Stew-
art; they did not clutch, as the gold-thirst
did.
But at least, unconsciously, he softened
in their presence, and humanity had its
way. He would go back for a little while.
At dawn he started through the woods,
going light. He could not give much
time, and had cached such things as might
have hindered him, together with his pros-
pecting outfit.
All day long he tramped, stopping sev-
eral times to examine rocks that seemed
to indicate a vein, but turned out barren.
At night he built a fire of duff and pine-
THE GOLD OF SUN-DANCE CANYON.
281
wood, made a meal of bacon, beans and
coffee, and then sat back to smoke. At
times he was tempted to return, but the
incident of the letter seemed always to
bring back the censure of his heartless-
ness: but even then a straw's weight might
have turned the balance. He shut the
girl from his thoughts, and as forcibly re-
fused to notice further what signs there
were of metal in the rocks.
Some few hundred yards away, a moun-
tain ridge rose steeply, and at the base he
spied a Stoney Indian camp of half a
dozen wigwams, nestled in the shelter of
the valley.
At that very moment, as he was figur-
ing out the purpose of their presence,
there came a low, deep, smothered rumble,
and then the rattle of a multitude of
stones, and glancing quickly upward, he
discovered that a snow-slide had begun
upon the mountain; it was not as large
as the slides that frequently occur, but
even so, the great white sheeted mass,
starting at the summit of the mountain,
tore out great rocks and logs and boulders,
and sweeping down terrifically, snapped
off the pines that blocked it, and hurled
itself in awful chaos and confusion upon
the Indian lodges.
Stewart leaped up and rushed across
the little stream that wound between the
lodges and his camp. There seemed to be
no further danger, as the slide was but a
short one, and already over, but he found
the lodges wrecked, and several Indians
killed and buried in the debris; only one
of them was left alive, a squaw, but even
she had had her right arm broken, and
suffered serious bruises.
Stewart carried her across the stream,
out of possible danger, as another snow-
slide might occur at any moment.
AS well as he knew how, in that un-
skilled way which answers for the peril
of the mountains, he set the fractured
member and bound up the wounds, the
squaw being scarcely conscious of what he
was doing. Then he returned to the
lodges, but everything was ruined or bur-
ied, and there was nothing of the Indians'
simple possessions that he could save.
When he went back to his own camp,
Garvey Stewart was puzzled what to do.
He had started home only out of sullen,
grudging pity for the girl who begged
and pleaded so unhappily; but now he
found himself perplexed anew. Surely
he could not leave this Indian woman
alone and helpless? He had but scant
respect for Indians as a general thing,
yet still it was a life, and human, and
somehow asked for succor. But much as
Margaret yearned for his return, deeply
as she needed him, Stewart felt instinct-
ively that she would not grudge him this
delay, and eventually he decided to re-
main.
With easy, practiced skill, he fashioned
tepees for the woman and himself, and
having but a scant supply of food, de-
pended on the forest and the rivers for
provisions. Faithfully he attended to his
patient's wants, and washed and bound
the bruises. The Stoney squaw had ap-
pealed more easily to pity than the white
girl, although perhaps the latter was
equally in need of it.
Thus the days wore on, until the squaw
was less dependent, and one night, as they
sat before the wigwams, partaking of a
forest supper, Stewart addressed her, as
he always did, in broken English.
"Takaho, to-morrow — me go way, home
— you go back to Injun people." The
woman started. "No, no go way, you. Me
want you stay."
"What for me stay? No use. You all
right now. I go to-morrow, sure."
The Indian woman hesitated; for a
long time she gazed into the flames ab-
stractedly, and at length raised her eyes
to Stewart pleadingly.
"No leave Injun woman. No go way
off. Injun woman want you stay."
Stewart felt a little sorry for her, and
asked her unsuspectingly : "How long you
want me stay?"
The squaw's eyes seemed to burn across
'the shadow to his own, as she bent for-
ward, whispering passionately:
"All time, stay all time. Wfhite man too
good Injun woman. Stay all time — me
got have him. No go way off."
Stewart stared in mute surprise. What
would he say to her? He found it difficult
to rouse affection for a white girl, attrac-
tive as she was; but as for ever feeling
warmly towards squaws Some men
seemed to find them quite attractive, but
for his part, they were, well^just Injuns.
That was the only way he could express
HE HAD FORGOTTEN THE LETTEE AND ITS ASHES."
it. He answered carelessly, to show his
lack of interest.
"~So, no, me got wife, home; she sick,
too; me go way to-morrow. You go back
your people."'
But the squaw was obdurate, and
pleaded that she had no people ; they were
killed, and she could not leave the white
man; he had been too good to her, and
she loved him: Stewart did not heed her,
but insisted he must go to-morrow, and
finding her too persevering for his com-
fort at last he turned into his wigwam,
and to all appearances, at least, was soon
asleep.
But the Indian woman would not yield;
^he^ had never known a man so kind be-
fore, and she could not give him up. All
night she sat by the sputtering driftwood
fire, swaying to and fro, clutching at some
fragile means to hold the white man for
herself. Was not she, too, a woman, that
would not be rejected? Suddenly at
early dawn, when the forest rustles ceased,
THE GOLD OP SUN-DANCE CANYON.
283
and an eagle screamed uproariously from
a fire-scarred pine, she rose, and going
across to where Stewart lay, waked him
gently.
"White man stay," she said, tenta-
tively.
Stewart rolled over sleepily. "Me go
to-day," he answered bluntly.
The Indian woman bent down and whis-
pered : "White man like gold, huh ?"
Stewart turned upon her questioningly.
"Look for gold long, long time; never
find him, huh?"
Stewart grunted acquiescence; he had
told her that in their camp-fire talks, and
could not contradict it.
"Takaho know big gold — plenty gold,
plenty big oh — many people."
The prospector sat up uneasily. Was
she lying; was this a trap?
"White man marry Takaho — she take
him big gold." She waved her hand sig-
nificantly. "Way off mountain — what you
call him, Sun-Dance Canyon."
Garvey Stewart leaped to his feet and
caught the Indian woman by the shoul-
ders. (He had forgotten Margaret, for-
gotten the letter, and its ashes, forgotten
her unhappiness. Here was gold!)
"Takaho," he said, fiercely, "if you lie
to me I will shoot you, you hear? Cum
tux?"
She smiled meaningly. • "Me tell truth,
sure."
"How big, how big is this mine, this
gold?" he continued.
The woman stretched her arms far
apart, and then pointed from the wigwam
to the mountain. Little she recked of that
other love, the precious passion of the
white girl's breast; little she thought of
the pity and the pain, the hopeless, hate-
less dragging out of life, lonely and alone,
down in the brick-locked city where, from
the quarters of the globe, had huddled
profligates and fools.
And Stewart? Aye, neither with him
was reckoning or compassion. "Come
on." he called thickly.
The woman fell upon him, passionately,
kissing the bearded face over and over
again with still unsated lips.
".I/;?/ man, my man?" she mumbled, and
looked up at him in yet fearful question-
ing.
"Yes," he muttered. "How far— how
far?"
"Way off mountain," she replied. "Sun
Dance Canyon."
Together they dashed along the river
bank — hand in hand, for she would have
it so, despite the heritage of race; they
journeyed through the dark, unglimmered
forest.
Stewart refused to stop for meals, re-
fused to stop for sleep at night, and the
woman struggled on obediently; what if
she were tired, exhausted? What if she
died — for she was weak after days and
nights of suffering; was he not her man,
he to lead and she to follow — to the
death?
In the morning they struck the creek,
and followed downward to the canyon.
Here for many moons the Stonies held the
sun dance, with its orgies and its sacri-
fice, with its triumphs and disaster of des-
pair.
Takaho stopped at the gorge and waited
where the gurgle-lacking river, with a
roar, dashed through the canyon. Then,
as if she had caught the inspiration from
the stream, she slowly turned about, and
crossing over, led the white man to the
mountain on the other side.
"Hurry, hurry!" he called impatiently,
his fingers working as though to clutch
the treasure.
"Ai" she answered proudly and tri-
umphantly, and stooping down beyond the
chasm, scooped away the earth. Stewart's
face was drawn; somehow he was in pain
— the face, the cry, the letter; aye, but
the ashes, and the waiting arms, and the
white breasts heaving with the pain. He
set the thin, hard lips, and clenched his
fists, and knelt beside the squaw; aye, he
hated her, but the gold, the gold ! She
lifted up a rock, and chipped the vein,
and the yellow glinted in the sunlight.
"All way," she said, "way long river," and
she pointed far below the canyon. Stewart
watched it, exultingly. He was in pain;
he had bartered off his birthright, bartered
off a woman and a soul, but, oh, God,
there was the gold, piles of it, piles of it.
He grabbed a yellow-mottled piece of rock
she handed him and almost kissed il.
Again the woman fell upon him — her
man. Suddenly the man's brows dark-
ened : he held the yellow to the light
again ; he weighed it in his hand ; he
tossed it to and fro; he scratched it with
"FOOL'S GOLD!" HK GNASHED.
a knife-point, and then with one long, picture that was almost gone, the birth-
deep-drawn curse, he hurled it to the right he had bartered, and the woman and
chasm-bed in scorn. the soul. "Oh, Margaret, Margaret," he
/'s gold!" he gnashed. "Pyntfes — moaned, clutching blindly at the vision.
you!" He caught wildly at the "Oh, God, you have saved me."
COWBOYS ASTRAY
BY
HERBERT COOLIDGE
DRAWING BY W. R. DAVENPORT.
NTONE GAECIA and
Tom Dunlap sat on
their blanket rolls be-
side a lonely country
lane, a lunch spread
out on the grass be-
fore them. They were
in Illinois, strangers
in a foreign land.
"Son-of-agohns," growled Antone,
reaching out a swarthy, unwashed hand
for another piece of bread, "eef I bahk
in Arizona I keel thaht fallar. He think
we trampas; thay all think we trampas;
blahnkets or no blahnkets, no de-efronce,
we trampas, ju-ust the same."
"Yes, if I'd been back in Arizona, I'd
have had a shot at you for raising such a
fool roar because the man wouldn't let
you come in with your dirt and grime, and
eat with his family. You ain't got the
sense of a rabbit, Antone; when you were
back in Arizona you never got to put your
feet under the same table with the white
folks, and you know it."
Antone turned out both hands and
raised his shoulders to make the "no dif-
ference" gesture of the Mexicans.
"Ah, que carramba, the feet no-o-ole-
hace, table or ju-ust ground, no-le-hace
to me. But I want sometheeng to eat; I
want heem hot. I no lahk these hand-
outs. I travel from El Paso to Phoenix
and todos tiempos el ranchero say, 'Turn
your caballo in the field an' go eat with the
boys. Seguro qui si, they never geef me
hand-out in Arizona."
"But you're not in Arizona, get that in-
to your head. These people haven't got
any bunk houses. You kick about the
hand-out. What do you take it for? I
did my prettiest to head the senorita off,
. and if you hadn't come in with your 'muy
hambre' talk and begun shruggin' your
shoulders and rabbin' your belt, I would
have got out of there without being put on
the soup-house list. 1 don't care what
these old punkin rollers think; they can
put me down as a trampa or a horse-thief,
but when it comes to having their pretty
daughters think I'm a dirt-eatin' beggar,
excuse me. Antone, you'd queer a good
man; try to fight the old gent and then
five minutes later take a hand-out from
his daughter."
Antone did not speak for a few mo-
ments ; he was forgetting the rancor of life
in an onslaught upon a generous piece of
pumpkin pie.
"She's buena cuke," he said, compla-
cently, as he stowed away the last bit of
flaky crust. "I theenk thaht senorita
lahk me, all right, eef she see me with no
wheeskers and with good horse, saddle and
bridle. Seguro qui si, I theenk she lahk
me, all right."
"Ya-a-as," said Tom, slowly, and with
scorn, "I think she would like you if she
could see you in your Arizona hang-out
playing monte with that Digger Indian
squaw of yourn. It's my plain duty to
get you back there or you'll marry into
some of these good families and leave your
muchachos to starve in the brush."
Antone, who had finished eating, and
was turning all his pockets wrong side out,
made no reply to this sally ; apparently he
did not hear.
"Sohn-of-a-ghons," he said at last, with
grave concern, "no mas tobacco."
"Certainly, no mas tobacco. I'm dying
for a smoke myself. If you'd kept your
face shut when we were at that last ranch-
house we'd be in a fair way of earning
some tobacco. Now I tell you, Antone,
I ain't a-goin' to put up with any more
of your monkey business on this trip ; I'm
goin' to take charge of this expedition,
savvy ?"
Antone, with a deprecating shrug of
286
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
resignation, signified that he understood
very well indeed.
"All right, then," continued his part-
ner, "turn over that knife of yours first;
I ain't a-going to have you make any more
knife plays on prospective bosses. Now,
then, we're to go back to that last ranch
and take that job. The boss said that he
had work that needed doing, and I refuse
to die for want of the price of a smoke
just because he got into a row with you.
Get under that bed now and come on."
The American shut his jaws down with
a snap as he closed the sentence and eyed
the Mexican fiercely as he obediently
shouldered his blanket roll and stood in
readiness to travel. Then both men re-
traced their steps to the Johnson farm
house.
The family were sitting out on the
porch enjoying the summer gloaming, but
began to talk together nervously, as the
strangers entered the yard.
"Dora," said the father, rising from
his chair, "go out to the barn and tell
John and Hiram to come to the house.
Mother, you'd better go inside."
Tom Dunlap left the Mexican at the
gate with the strict injunction to stay
with the blankets, and went up the path
alone. He noted the consternation of the
family with scorn, and smiled grimly be-
hind his tawny mustache.
"Well, pardner," he said, as he reached
the porch where the farmer stood waiting
to meet him, "I suppose you think we're
hobos for a cinch since we took the hand-
out, but if you'd heard me cuss the
Greaser for beginning to rub his belt
when I had just about lied out of taking
anything, you wouldn't think so. No,
we're not 'bos, and we've come back to
take that job."
Deacon Johnson, with ill-concealed dis-
approval at the frank admission of two
such cardinal sins as lying and swearing,
pulled at his whiskers hesitatingly, and
replied :
"Your friend seems to be a man of
violent temper. I don't — • — "
"Oh, that's all right," said Tom cheer-
fully; "I cussed him for that, too, and
took his knife away and told him that if
he registered any more kicks on grub or
anything else I'd take a shot at him. The
Mexican is all right; he's a cross between
a Digger Indian squaw and a cattle-thief,
but he knows better than to monkey with
me when I'm hostile."
As Tom ceased speaking, the two stal-
wart young farm hands came out on the
porch: the girl, whom the farmer had
called Dora, followed timidly and stood
just behind the group, near her father.
Conscious of the reinforcements, Dea-
con Johnson became severe.
"Does your friend smoke?"
"Not when he ain't got the makin's of
a smoke, he don't. No, I'll tell you, pard-
ner, you won't need to lose any more fat
worrying about the Mexican. Just give
me a couple of lard buckets, a frying pan
and a little grub; I'll make a camp back
in the brush some place, and see that he
don't bother nobody."
"Young man," replied the deacon with
slow dignity, "I am afraid that I cannot
employ you or your friend. I've been
farming for myself for twenty years and
more now, and have never had any but
Christian young men on my premises.
John and Hiram are both members of my
church."
For a moment the Arizonan seemed
totally at a loss as to how to take this
statement; the three Christian farmers
exchanged glances of firm self-approval.
Finally Tom hitched up his overalls ag-
gressively. ""Well, I'll tell you, Mister, if
I can't pitch twice as much hay as any
Christian young man you ever had on
the ranch, you needn't pay me a cent. I
have never worked with any of your
Christian young men, but I've got a
hunch that they can't qualify with me for
a holy second. And the Greaser "
The Arizonan was interrupted by the
Greaser himself.
"Que dice, Tom? What you say?" he
asked.
Tom, in his anger, forgot for the mo-
ment that the Mexican was supposed to
be with the blankets, and replied:
"The old gent was sayin' that he didn't
want nothin' but church men."
"Que carramba!" raising his shoulders,
and twisting his face with sympathetic
consternation, "thaht make eet bad for
you, no, Tom?" Then his swarthy face
lighted with a bright idea.
"But eet no le hace, Tom. I work and
you keep camp till we have bastante
"YOUNG MAN . . i CANNOT EMPLOY YOU OR YOUR FRIEND/''
288
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
money to go back to Arizona. I church
man," he went on, turning to the farmer.
"I gude Catholique."
The two hired men snickered a little at
this; Deacon Johnson's face hardened,
and he essayed to speak, when Antone, in
anticipation, went on earnestly:
"Oh, no, no! Tom bueno fallar; he
no lahk church, but he gude boy ju-ust
the same. Eef you no lahk heem for that,
he keep camp por me and I work. Se-
guro que si, Tom he cuss church todos
tiempos, but he bueno pahtnah; I chase
cattle on same ranch for cincos anos.
Seguro que si, Tom gude fallar."
The Mexican, who had been feeling
nervously in all his pockets as he spoke,
now pulled out a bit of brown paper, and
drowning out both Tom and the Deacon
as they attempted to speak in unison,
said, with his politest shrug, "Sohn-of-
a-gohns, I haff matches and papel but yo
no tengo tobahcco. Senor haff—
Antone, seeing that something was
wrong, stopped abruptly, and stood, un-
consciously bellying the bit of cigarette
paper into readiness to receive its charge
of fine-cut, and wondering what there was
about this most natural of requests that
«ould not be well taken.
Tom, whose principal weakness lay in
his pride of being a Bob Ingersoll man,
had been very black and restless during
Iris swarthy partner's apologies for his
attitude toward the Christian religion,
but now he left off biting at the corners
of his mustache and began to grin sheep-
ishly. Deacon Johnson, apparently be-
wildered by the naive request of • the un-
tamed advocate of churches, seemed at a
loss for something to say. For a moment,
the group stood in embarrassment, then
suddenly there was a stifled giggle that
burst unexpectedly into clear, girlish
laughter. That broke the spell; even the
hard-featured deacon laughed heartily.
"Father," said the daughter, taking ad-
vantage of the lull that followed, "why
do you not let the men stay? They are
away from home and want to get money
enough to get back to Arizona. It must
be awful to be away from home so far."
"That north field has been down a
week too long now," suggested the elder
of the farm hands.
"Si, senorita, in my casa yo tengo tree
Ml muchachos who last night say 'papa'
to me when I sleep. And my pahtner
haff una senorita."
"Aw, cut that out, Antone," interrupt-
ed Tom, shifting on his feet very uneas-
ily. "You needn't eat any dirt for me.
This is a business proposition; let's hit
the road if he don't want us."
"No," said the deacon, "we can use
you both in the hayfield to-morrow. I'd
like to have you stay."
"And eef you 'fraid for fire," put in
Antone, "I no smoke; I get some to-
bahcco and chew heem. I no lahk heem
thaht way, but eef you 'fraid for fire, I
chew heem ju-ust the same."
UNLIMITED ELECTRIC POWER
BY
BURTOK WALLACE
ONDEEFUL as are the
wireless telegraph, the
Bell telephone and the
Mergenthaler typeset-
ting machine, which
set civilization for-
ward nearly a century
within the past de-
cade, there comes now a remarkable in-
vention, made practical and put into op-
eration for c6mmercial use at Los Angeles.
It is called the Starr Wave Motor.
Niagara Falls, between the great Lake
Erie and the great Lake Ontario, two of
the five great lakes, has been harnessed
for man's use by special permission of the
Governments of the United States and
Canada, but it remained for California to
take a mechanical appliance and run it
steadily night and day, through storm and
calm, simply by the up and down motion
of the waves of the Pacific Ocean.
White caps and gentle swells, ebbing
and flowing tides, are no longer move-
ments of the ocean to keep fishes alive,
carry ships and excite the wonderment of
man, for one man has pursued the enter-
prise of harnessing the ocean waves until
success now meets him, after thirty years
of hard struggles and privations.
Mighty power houses are being erected
to -transmit this eeaseless and unlimited
force, the first practical commercial plant
being put in at Eedondo Beach, near Los
Angeles by the Los Angeles Wave Power
and Electric Co. They have leased a part
of the beach from the Eedondo Improve-
ment Company, one of E. E. Hunting-
ton's companies, and are erecting a pier
and a motor plant for the Starr Wave
Motor, which will supply six southern
counties — Los Angeles, Orange, San
Bernardino, Eiverside, Santa Bar-
bara and Ventura — with all the power
needed for factory or transportation pur-
poses. The plant will necessarily be en-
larged after a short time, but its success
and present commercial value can not be
disputed.
But first, let us look at this remarkable
inventor and his more remarkable inven-
tion. Briefly, it is a part of our education
in twentieth century progress.
Mr. Frederick Starr, a first class me-
chanic, spent about twenty years in the
Pullman car shops near Chicago putting
the fine interior hardwood finish in the
Pullman sleeping cars. All this time he
had a notion that the up-and-down motion
of the ocean waves could be made to run
a force in one direction just the same as
the piston of a steam engine pushes the
drivers forward or backward at the will
of the engineer, the only difference being
that one force is horizontal and the other
perpendicular; one worked by steam pres-
sure, the other by water power. Both are
practical.
Mr. Starr, in his studies and experi-
ments, while at the Pullman shop, saw
that a wave motor to be a success, had to
be so constructed that it would not only
stand the worst storms of the ocean, but
also that it must be so sensitive that it
would receive the power from the smallest
ocean swell; consequently, he developed
and patented a machine, simple in con-
struction, that will turn every ripple and
surging billow into commercial value.
Very small was the first wooden model
of a wave motor built by Mr. Starr. The
appliance was worked by hand with play-
ing marbles used as rollers, which simply
revolved the power shaft enough to show
that the "clutch" would work.
Larger was the second model, also made
of wood, while the third model worked so
perfectly in the shop that it was moved to
Pier 2, Mission street wharf, San Fran-
cisco, and there installed, and a barge put
under the pier and connected to the ma-
chinery on the pier with longer and heav-
ier uprights, and with five-eighths inch
cables.
290
OVEELAND MONTHLY.
That plant was operated by the waves
in the bay. It worked grandly, producing
electricity from August, 1905, until Feb-
ruary, 1907, when it was dismantled, be-
cause it had served its purpose and they
were done with it. But it had operated
successfully through all the storms for
eighteen months. One storm went over the
bay in February, 1906, that the San Fran-
cisco papers said was the worst storm for
over twenty years, and that little model
of the Starr Wave Motor, with its barge
submerged, worked through the storm in
perfect condition.
What this wonderful wave motor is can
be told in a few words. It consists of a
pier built from the shore into the ocean
until water is reached about twenty feet
deep at low tide. Under the pier a barge
(a hollow, flat boat) is anchored by an-
chors placed in the bottom of the ocean
that hold the barge so it cannot at any
time touch any part of the pier. That
barge is permitted to travel with the ocean
waves ten to sixteen feet in and out (sea-
ward and shoreward), and two to six feet
sideways. These movements permit the
barge to "play with the waves" and make
it easy to hold. The barge is so construct-
ed that when a storm is coming on, valves
in the bottom of the barge are opened, and
the barge is filled with water, which, with
the pressure of the machinery, sinks the
barge enough to make the storm waves and
breakers pass over the barge during the
storm. While the barge is thus submerged
the wave motor continues to take tin
power from the ocean swells, all that is de-
sired, because the movement of the ocean
at such times is so much greater that with
the barge submerged there is yet all the
power in the waves that is wanted. With
the barge thus submerged, it is covered
all over with the water that acts as a cush-
ion, so that in the worst storm the power
is in reality more regular and even than
in ordinary seas. When the storm is over,
the water will be blown out of the barge
by compressed air, and then the barge
floats upon the surface again.
The great importance of this invention
can scarcely be foretold. Comparing it to
other inventions, we may get a notion
of its value ; as, for instance, the West-
inghouse air break. Westinghouse went to
Commodore Vanderbilt, of the New York
UNLIMITED ELECTRIC POWER.
291
Central Railroad, to interest him, but the
Commodore said he had "no time to
bother with damn fools who proposed to
stop a train of cars with wind." To-day
the air-break is in use all over the world.
The same skepticism formerly attached
to the wave motor, but has been proven
baseless.
The Starr Wave Motor has even a larger
field than the air brake, because electric
power, heat and light can be produced at
one-third the present cost.
It is estimated that the power used in
Los Angeles, Orange, Riverside, San Ber-
nardino. Santa Barbara and Ventura
Counties is about 100,000 horse-power.
That power costs consumers in those six
counties an average of about $100 a year
per horse power, while by the wave motors
the same power can be produced and sold
at one-third the present prices, and still
make enormous profits.
A plant equipped with these wave
motors of 50,000 horsepower capacity
when completed and in successful opera-
tion with to-day's high prices for material
and labor, will cost not to exceed $2,500,-
000. The earnings of a 50,000 horse-
power plant near Los Angeles, selling elec-
tricity at $30 per horse-power per year
(less than one-third the present average
price), will be $1,500,000 per year, which
is over 50 per cent per annum on the en-
tire cost of the plant.
The Los Angeles Wave Power and Elec-
tric Company is incorporated, the follow-
ing gentlemen being among the stock-
holders, the main office being in the H. W.
Hellman building, Los Angeles: W. E. B.
Partridge, President of the American En-
gineering and Foundry Co., Founders and
Machinists, Los Angeles; 0. H. Mason,
proprietor of the Up-to-Date Pattern Co.,
Pattern Manufacturers, Los Angeles;
Fred Pilgrim, President of the Pilgrim
Iron Works, Founders and Machinists,
Los Angeles; J . C. Beach, Contractor
and Builder, Los Angeles; Fred Starr, a
Mechanic and Inventor of this Ware Mo-
tor, San Francisco; J. H. Bacon, Invest-
ment Banker, San Francisco.
Since the force of the ocean waves is
practically limitless, it is easy to see what
a tremendous thing the Starr Wave Motor
is. That it will follow the paths of other
great inventions cannot now be disputed.
It's capital stock is selling at fifty cents a
share, and that colossal fortunes will be
made, as well as reducing the cost of
power to consumers, is evident.
DEATH ON THE MARSHES
BY
RAYMOND STJMNEB BARTLETT
The freshness of a summer's day
Had filled the heavens with sound,
And even the homely marsh flower smiled
From her rest in the cold, wet ground ;
The tall reeds nodded and beck'ed and bowed
To the clumps of soughing willows
And the woven dusks of the lily blew
From her couch on the watery pillows.
Salt laden from the wide bayou
The glad breeze bent the rushes,
Then marched along from tree to tree
And kissed the trembling brushes;
The wild shades blushed and quivered anew,
'Neath the glance of the warm red sun,
For the tent of heaven's pavilion lay bare
And winter's last race was run.
A-near the marge of the watery plain,
Where the clamoring, shambling sea,
Breath-laden from a sunnier south,
Had filled the willow wide lea ;
One of God's creatures, a feathery form,
Lay fast asleep, for its breast
Wlas torn apart and its sea-free heart
Had sunk to its sylvan rest.
The rising tide was at its full
Along the sallow-ridged shore,
It gathered and fell with a soughing swell
And a dull, retreating roar:
Far out on the channel a siren shrieked,
And over the dipping swells,
Like a voice in the dark, like a flickering spark,
Came the melody of the bells.
Dear bird, athwart the marginal moor
Thy fellows are flying free,
As glad as the breeze among the trees
In their sea- wide liberty;
The warm life throbs in their earth-born hearts
Like the pulse of the tide that swings,
For it quickens the beats in climes and heats
With the fluttering of their wings.
When the wan West shivers above the hills
And the purple of. night sweeps down,
Even then God knows each flower that blows
And every soul that is flown ;
For the meanest flower in wood and in bower
In meadows and fields and leas,
When withered and blown, when scattered and strown
O'er the crests of the waving trees,
Can hear his word, and thou, dear bird,
Are even more than these
"Ail rights secured.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
LISTEN!/
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cate rabncs — besides, "
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about the wonderful
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full particulars and directions i.. ^
valuable to ladies. MARVEL CO.
44 E. 88d ST., NEW YORK
M E L S
Oak, Cherry, Mahogany, Walnut,
Rosewood or Transparent
Cool washing for hot weather
FOR OLD OR NKW FLOORS. FURNITURE AND WOODWORK
Wears like Cement— Dries over night with Brilliant Gloss. Contains no
Japan or Shellac. Write at once for Free Booklet, Color Card and List of
Dealers. TRIAL CAN FREE [send lOc to pay postage] Enough for a Chair,
Table or Kitchen Cabinet. ADDRESS: "FLOOR-SHINE" CO., 1ST LOUIS. MO.
Sold by Hale Bros., Agents, San Francisco
and A. Hamburger Sons, Los Angeles
If you are a dealer write for the Agency
A Paper For Englishmen Abroad
" 'Public Opinion' was much prized by Thomas Carlyle, and was one of the last journals he
read," said Dr. W. R. Nicoll, in British Weekly.May 2, 1907.
PUBLIC OPINION
TWOPENCE WEEKLY
Edited by PERCY L. PARKER
The purpose of "Public Opinion" is to provide a weekly review of current thought and ac-
tivity as they are expressed in the world's newspapers, magazines and books, and to put on
record the ideas and activities which make for religious, Intellectual, Political and Social Pro-
gress.
It seeks to provide the busy man with a lucid summary of what is happening in the dif-
ferent fields of human activity, and to focus within readable compass something of that teem-
ing interest which comes from being in touch with many phases of life.
This object has been achieved with considerable success ever since "PUBLIC OPINION"
was started in 1860. In the 47 years since then it has consistently carried out its policy.
The need for a paper like "PUBLIC OPINION" increases with the years, for life becomes
more complex, and the busy man, though anxious to keep in touch with new developments of
thought and activity, has not the time to read the many papers which would give him the
needed facts. "PUBLIC OPINION" seeks to do this for him, and to present just that precis
of life and thought which will enable him to quickly understand what is going on in the world.
"Public Opinion" (published every Friday, price twopence, 32 pages) can be obtained from
any newsagent or bookstall or will be sent post free for one year to any address in the
United Kingdom for 10s. 10d., and to any place abroad for 13s. per annum. Orders should be
addressed to
"PUBLIC OPINION" 30 and 31 Temple House, Tallis Street, London, E. C.
"I know of two Prime Ministers who have read regularly PUBLIC OPINION," said the
Daily News, May 15, 1907.
"We know of at least one who has misreadit," added "Punch," May 29, 1907.
Specimens sent free on application.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
xl
ROAST MEATS
Hot or cold, Soups, Steaks, Chops, Gravies, Cheese and all
kinds of Salads are given a rare relish by the judicious use of
Lea & Perrins' Sauce
THE ORIGINAL WORCESTERSHIRE
Leading Chefs say it is the Secret of their Success
Beware Of Imitations. John Duncan's Sons, Agents, New York.
Irving Institute and California Conservatory of Music
2126-2128 California Street, San Francisco
Boarding and Day School for Girls
Mus'c, Languages, Art, and Elocution. Accredited by Univer-
sities. The new term begins Monday, August 5.
MISS ELLA M. PINKHAM, Principal.
California Conservatory of Music. Send for
Catalogue.
HERMANN GENSS. Director.
What School?
WE CAN HELP YOU DECIDE
Catalogues and reliable information concerning al
schools and colleges furnished without charge. State
kind of school, address:
American School and College Agency
384, 41 Park Row, New Yerk, er 384, 3I5 Dearbirn St., Chica68
THE HAMLIN SCHOOL AND VAN NESS SEMINARY
2230 Pacific Ave.
For particulars address
cTWISS SARAH D. HAMLIN
2230 Pacific c/4venue,
San Francisco Telephone West 546
The Fall term will open August 12, 1907.
FEMININE LOVELINESS
Set of six most inspiring art pictures of woman beau-
tiful, 25c. THEY ARE GEMS--real pretty faces and
forms— the kind you DREAM about— and the colors are
blended together in such artistic style that it is impos-
sible to conceive. Send the names of two frinds that
are interested in art pictures and 25c FOR THE SET
Elaborate catalog of den pictures fre*. ONTARIO ART
CO. 2046 N. Ashland Avenue. Chicago.
Are you going to St. Louis
The HOTEL HAMILTON is a delightful place in the Best Resi-
dent Section and away from the noise and smoke; yet within easy
access. Transient Rate: $1 to $3 per day. European Plan. Specie
Rates by the week. Write for Booklet. Address: W. F. WILLIAM-
SON, Manager:
WHEN IN BOSTON STAY AT THE
COPLEY SQUARE HOTEL
HUNTINGTON AVE., EXETER AND BLAGDEN STS.
A high-class, modern house, intelligent service, moderate prices, pleasant rooms, superior
cuisine. Long distance telephone in every room.
Ladies traveling alone are assured of courteous attention.
0 rooms— 200 with private baths. AMOS H. WHIPPLE, Proprietor.
EDITORIAL
C 0 M M E N T.
A PLEA FOR GOOD ROADS
OSTE OF the leading features of Eu-
rope that impresses the tourist from
America is the general excellence of
the roads. All over the continent, lead-
ing from city to city, from village to vil-
lage, is a labyrinth of smooth road-bed,
which enables the automobilist and the
bicyclist to reach with ease every little
town upon the entire continent.
This desirable condition of the roads
has been accomplished through the public
spirit of the citizens of the leading Euro-
pean countries, and through the efforts
of the respective Governments. As a con-
sequence, thousands of auto fiends pour
into Europe every summer to take advan-
tage of the alluring opportunities for
motoring, and it is reported: that they
spend from six to eight million dollars at
the leading resorts in France alone.
Why should not the United States have
a system of road beds just as good as our
sister continent? Why should we not
keep these millions of dollars wumn the
limits of our own country?
Why not begin in California ? At regu-
lar periods a campaign is started for good
roads in various sections of the State, but
after a short time the matter is dropped
and the roads are neglected. What more
wonderful trip could be made than to
skim through our fair State, starting at
the beautiful southern partion among the
orange groves and working up to Los An-
geles, thence through the valley of the
San Joaquin to San Francisco, along the
Calle Eeal, and beyond into the recesses
of the Sacramento Valley, skirting the
mountain streams of the Sierra Nevadas
and winding in and out among the big
trees and the parks of the northern por-
tion of the State? Such a road would be
unrivaled in all the world. If the roads
were made better, there could be a con-
tinuous chain running to every town of
consequence in the State, and nothing
would attract tourists nor advertise Cali-
fornia more than this feature of the
West.
To promote a sentiment for better roads
in California, the Overland Monthly
would be glad to receive photographs and
accounts of road improvements. Photo-
graphs taken of particularly poor roads,
of bad roads undergoing improvement and
of roads before and after improvement,
will be welcomed. A short account of the
location of the roads should be enclosed
with all photographs. These will be paid
for at our regular rates, and should ba
addressed to the "Good Roads Editor,"
Overland Monthly, San Francisco.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
xiil
Important Change in Life Insurance!!
HEREAFTER
The Prudential
will be on a Non-Participating Basis Exclusively.
The New Non=Participatingf Policy
Unparalleled in Its Attractive Features.
Lowest Premium Rates.
Contract Clear and Definite.
Liberal Cash Loans.
Nonforfeitable After One Year's Premium is Paid.
Automatic Extended Insurance or Automatic
Premium Loans.
Cash Surrender Values, both on Premium Paying
Policies and on Paid=up Policies.
Amounts $1,000 to $100,000.
Every Rate, Value and Feature
in the Policy Absolutely Guaranteed
See a Prudential Agent or WRITE NOW
to the Home Office for Pull Particulars of this
New Policy and Rates at Y»n»- Age.
Address Dep'V 21
The Prudential
Insurance Co. of America
Incorporated as a Stock Company by the
State of New Jersey.
JOHN F. DRYDEN,
President.
Home Office:
NEWARK, N. J.
xiv
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
Die in
open air
seeking
water.
Rat
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Has
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' in taxes, ready for use. WOTSt
infested
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At druggists-- 15c. a box. "rTe'^'o? 1"^ ^3
boxes, expre«« prepaid. Also ask your druggist for Yankee
• or send us 25c; we'll mail direct to you, "Never fail
THE RAT BISCUIT CO., Dept. 0. M. Springfield, O.
FRED'K B. VOLZ MRS. HELEN FREESE
Volz & Freese
Importers of works of art,
Present some odd, quaint and
beautiful things from the art
centers of the world: Original
Oil Paintings, Ivory, Miniature
Carved Ivory, Art Furniture,
Bric-a-Brac, Curios, Bronzes,
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Lowestoft, Bristol, Etc., with
prices that are attractive.
An exceptional opportunity for wedding presents
947-949 Van Ness Avenue
Telephone 291 7 FRANKLIN
BY DE^ISO^ HALLEY CLIFT
BY far the most interesting book that
I have read of late is Alfred L.
Hutchinson's " The Limit of
Wealth." This book deals with the ques-
tion of Capital vs. Labor in a very novel
manner. That the people of the United
States realize that an impending crisis
between the workingmen and the mil-
lionaires is annually nearing a culmina-
tion, is now no longer doubted. Many
have been the remedies suggested to avoid
this so-called "revolution," which include
that of the socialists, the single taxers and
those who demand Government ownership
of public utilities. "The Limit of Wealth"
is one more suggested solution. The
uniqueness of this volume is in the pre-
sentation of the subject. tEhe author
dates his book 1944, and makes it seem
that he is presenting the investigations
of the monarchs of the world into the
causes of the great industrial suprem-
acy of this country. Like "Gillette's
Social Kedemption," this is a book for
men who think. It attacks our great
social problem in a new way. The sug-
gested remedy is, as the title indicates,
the limit of wealth. The remedy is here
given in a nutshell: "A man cannot take
his wealth with him when he dies; allow
him to provide a suitable sum for the
proper maintainance of his surviving fam-
ily, and let the surplus go to the Govern-
ment, to be distributed among the people
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
Continental Building and Loan
of California
ESTABLISHED 1889
Subscribed Capital . .
Paid-in Capital . . . .
Profit and Reserve Fund
Monthly Income, over .
$15,OOO,OOO
3,OOO,OOO
. . 450,000
20O.OOO
ITS PURPOSE IS
To help its members to build homes, also to
make loans on improved property, the mem-
bers giving first liens on real estate as
security. To help its stock holders to earn
from 8 to 12 per cent per annum on their
stock, and to allow them to open deposit
accounts bearing interest at the rate of
5 per cent per annum.
Church near Market Street,
San Francisco.
A Skin of Beauty Is a Joy Forever.
DR. T. FELIX GOURAUD'S
ORIENTAL CREAM, or Magical Beautifier
PURIFIES
as well as
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No other
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and is so harm-
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terfeit of similar
name. Dr. 'L. A.
Sayre said to a
lady of the haut-
ton (a patient):
"As you ladies will use them, I recommend
'Gouraud's Cream ' as the least harmful of all
the skin preparations."
For sale by all Druggists and Fancy Goods
Dealers in the United States, Canada and Eu-
rope.
Gouraud's Oriental Toilet Powder
An ideal antiseptic toilet powder for infants
and adults. Exquisitely perfumed. Relieves
skin irritation, cures sunburn and renders an
excellent complexion.
Price, 25 cents per box by mail.
GOURAUD'S POUDRE SUBTILE removes
superfluous hair without Injury to the skin.
Price, $1.00 per bottle by mail.
FERD T. HOPKINS, Prop'r, 37 Great Jones 8t.
New York.
along the lines I have indicated. Estab-
lish a Government that will do this, and
you will no longer ask, 'What can be done
for the common people.' ':
The volume pictures the establishment
of an omnipotent new party called "The
Distributers/' who, in the election of 1912
carry everything before them. The book
is a valuable addition to the already-pub-
lished solutions of our industrial prob-
lems, and the Overland Monthly recom-
- mends it to every workingman of America.
The Macmillan Co., New York.
* * *
"Bait Angling for Common Fishes,"
by Louis Ehead, is a book that will be
eagerly read by all lovers of the gentle art
of angling. The volume deals with the
gamut of baiting, from bass and trout
to pearch and eels. The book is what it
aims to be, "a handy guide of practical
information on how to angle for common
and familiar bottom fishes." Yet after
all has been said in regard to angling,
there remains one book of long standing
that has never been displaced as the best
book on fishing ever written. That is
Walton's "Complete Angler," written
more than a century ago, as inspiring a
book as was ever published.
Outing Publishing Co., New York.
Three small volumes have come to our
desk, and each one is a defense of the
principles of socialism. "Capitalist and
Laborer," by John Spargo, is a reply to
Professor Goldwin Smith, who recently
attacked the doctrine so dear to Spargo's
heart. "Socialism: Positive and Nega-
tive," by Eobert Eises La Monte, is a col-
lection of papers that have appeared in
the various socialistic periodicals. This
book is full of much good food for thought
and contains many maxims, such as "No
man can be or do the best he is capable of
unless he is ever reaching out toward an
ideal that lies beyond his grasp." The
third book, "The Eight to be Lazy," is
a translation from the French of Paul
Lafargue, by Charles H. Kerr.
Charles H. Kerr & Co., Chicago.
* * *
"The New Apocalypse," by Henry Graf-
ton Chapman, is a poetical work of 38
pages, done in blank verse, and being the
record of a dream.
THE LADY AND POLITICS
BY
,ALLIS ROSS BURNETT
I'VE COME over to talk to you, Anne,
about women voting! I am quite
sure that you are wrong in taking
the stand you do against it, and I am
going to convince you of the error of your
ways.
Have I ever voted? No, but I am go-
ing to at this very next election. It is
my duty and the duty of every good
woman to do so, and after I have told you
all I know about it, you will agree with
me.
Don't you think this hat is pretty and
becoming? Such a time as I had getting
the plumes put on right! Wftiy, I almost
had nervous prostration. The milliner
was a great strong creature without a
nerve in her body. She just would not
put the plumes on to suit me, and did
not seem to care or even notice that I was
positively ill with all the worry. I had
to take a rest cure for a whole week af-
terward.
What about the milliner? I don't sup-
pose that she was sick, though of course
she deserved to be for not putting the
plumes on to please me in the first place.
\Yhat are you laughing at? Oh, you
think I'm off the track! Well, I am not
— no, indeed!
I will sit here in front of you and look
into your eyes while I talk. Whenever I
want to convince my husband, that is the
way I do, and he gives up right away.
Try it sometime, Anne; it saves so much
trouble.
Will I have a glass of lemonade? I
shall enjoy it very much, for it is so warm
to-day. Do you use distilled water? You
don't? Why, you are really tempting
Providence by using city water. We use
Purity distilled water. Mr. Hargrave
thinks it the best. We put it in the re-
frigerator to keep it cool. The icemau
forgot to bring us ice the other day, but
I put the bottles in the refrigerator just
the same, although the ice was all gone
and the strangest thing happened. When
dinner-time came, the water was as warm
as when I put it in the ice-box. I don't
see what an ice box is for if it won't
keep things cool. There must be some
scientific principle involved, and I am go-
ing to study it out as soon as I have the
time, but just now I must give my whole
attention to the subject of voting.
ISTow, Anne, here you are in delicious
Colorado, where the sun shines three hun-
dred and seventy-five days out of — no,
of course not. How silly of me ! Well, it
shines three hundred and sixty-four days
out of the year. You are just like Mr.
Hargrave — so particular about dates and
things. Please don't interrupt me — I
can't bear to be interrupted.
As I was saying, here you are in de-
lightful Colorado (when I say Colorado,
of course I mean Denver), where the sun
shines all the year round, where you can
sleep under a blanket all summer; where
the air is absolutely pure; where you can
look up at the grand old Rockies and see
the snow in the hottest day. WJiat has all
this to do with voting? Everything in
the world, as you will see a little later on.
Don't hurry me — I never could bear to
be hurried. You have broken the thread
of my discourse, but I will do the best I
can to go on with it.
Here you are with all these blessings.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing • Advertisers.
xvii
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OVERLAND MONTHLY.
and — let me see — yes, now I remember —
and added to these you have the privilege
of voting for and putting into office good
men to govern this beautiful State. (Yes,
I am quite sure that was the argument
they used to persuade me to vote.)
Why. my dear, politics were — was — I
can't remember which it is. Dear me!
which can it be— were or was? Never
mind, were sounds better anyway. Poli-
tics were in a frightful condition until
women took them in hand. It is the duty
of every good woman to go to the polls,
and do her best to help purify politics,
even if she must do it at great personal
inconvenience. She should let nothing
stand in her way.
You say that the men managed politics
before the franchise was given to the wo-
men. To be sure, but just see what a
failure they made of it. They meant
well, but how could a man cast a pure
vote when he had just been having a
lunch of beer and onions? Think of it,
Anne ! It makes me shudder. I don't eat
beer and onions — I mean, drink beer and
onions for my lunch, so at least my vote
won't smell of anything so awful. One
vote will be purified anyway.
You say that you don't know the good
candidates from the bad ones, nor the
ward-heelers from I don't know
what a ward-heeler is either, but I should
not wonder if that was one of them who
stopped at the back gate the other morn-
ing and asked me if I had any bottles to
sell. I said that we had ever so many
dozen beer bottles down in the cellar,
and that if he would wait I would go and
get them.
When he spoke to me I was just going
around to the grocery to get something
for the cook, and I laid my purse down on
the back step. When I got back from
the cellar, that man was gone, and had
taken my purse with him. Wasn't that
mean? No, he was not a rag-man, for
he said that he did not want any rags
when I asked him. I am perfectly sure
now that he was a ward-heeler. Well,
everything has its good side. They can't
fool me now. I simply won't vote for
any man who looks as he did.
Now you see, Anne, this is a case in
point, as my husband says. Now that I
know a ward-heeler when I see him, I
need not vote for any one resembling him,
so there will be one less ward-heeler get
into office. Now don't you think it is a
fine thing to have the privilege of keep-
ing such men out of office? It is simply
grand, glorious, to do one's duty! I never
realized it before.
Now that you are convinced, as I aiL.
sure you must be after all that I have
said, I want you to tell me just how I
must go about it to get registered. You
registered once — didn't you? Please tell
me how — it is so embarrassing not to
know how to do such things.
Just wait a moment — I can never re-
member all that. I'll have to write it
down. Now I am ready.
Get up early so as to be down to the
registration place by eight o'clock! Gra-
cious, I never can do that, for I never
get up until ten. Well, go on.
Take your position in line. Wait a mo-
ment, Anne. Will I have to wait long?
Dear me! What next?
After you are in line, there is not
much more you can do for three or four
hours but to move forward a step at a
time, or to stand perfectly still when you
can't move. If you grow too tired, you
will, no doubt, for the sake of your coun-
try, be willing to rest comfortably by
leaning on the butchery looking man in
front of you, and you must not mind the
odor that emanates from the crowd
around you — some people look at a bath
as an enemy. You won't mind it at all
when you pause and reflect that you are
doing your duty, though at the cost of a
little personal inconvenience.
After some hours have passed, you may
find that you have crept slowly up the
length of the corridor, and are at last in
the room itself. You may be a little
weary by this time, but as you are doing
your duty, you will not mind having a
woman with a baby in her arms passed up
in front of you. She, too, has been stand-
ing for hours, and the baby is tired, and is
crying. The men who have been standing
in line as long as you have, will smile and.
look cheerful, so you may as 'well do the
same.
Wait a minute. Anne. I think I have
contracted writer's cramp. Is there no
other way I can be registered? Can't
my husband pay some money to somebody
and let me get registered quietly ?
HE NEW POLICY OF THE PRUDENTIAL.
The greatest insurance company to emerge
torn the recent thorough and searching in-
jfestigation of the insurance business of Amer-
»Ia with a reputation and a policy that could
lot be impeached was the Prudential Company
i Nt '\vark, N. J.
f During the past few months this company has
Jeen preparing a new policy for its future busi-
Ess, which will have a wide appeal for all
jjrospective policy-holders of the country.
(So keen is the competitions between insur-
liice companies to-day that the company doing
the best business is the one offering its policies
Bit the lowest possible cost, and anticipating its
Jfividends. This is just what the Prudential
[i doing, according to its new line of business,
which went into operation August 1st.
A This policy has been best outlined by the
•resident of the Prudential, Former U. S. Sena-
Ebr John F. Dryden. While recently discussing
pe subject, he said:
'( "The new Ordinary non-participating policy
fjf The Prudential eliminates all questions as to
Hividends; nothing is estimated.. The policy
lontract is one of absolute certainty and its
rjayment is guaranteed by the great resources
ijf the company.
^ "An entirely new feature, which we believe
fill commend itself, is that the loan value of the
jolicy may be used automatically to keep the
insurance in force should the policyholder be
inable to meet the payment of premiums, the
fength of time, of course, depending upon the
[umber of years during which the premiums
ave been paid by the insured. When the policy-
older is ready to take up the policy again he
rill not have to pay up back premiums, but
hay, if he wishes, have them charged as a loan
gainst the policy. This is one of the most
narked advancements in life insurance.
I "The company will be pleased to send a
;taecimen of this new policy to persons who will
frite to the Home Office, Newark, N. J., stating
ge and the amount of money they would like to
hvest in life insurance each year.
I "We look upon this new policy of The Pru-
jential as one that will become popular because
If its unusual and attractive features."
1367
1907
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OVERLAND MONTHLY.
There is no other way? Then let us
hurry and get this done. I am getting so
tired.
You must not mind having the fat man
in front of you emphasize a joke by jab-
bing you in the ribs with his thumb. He
will not mean any disrespect — 'he only
looks upon you as his equal now, instead
of his superior, as heretofore.
That is the way they treated you? I
can't understand it, Anne. I shall dress
myself in a way to command respect. I
have not planned quite all the details of
my costume, but I know that I shall carry
a chiffon parasol and wear patent leather
Oxfords.
Will' you soon be through? To please
you, Anne, I will bear it to the end, but
I am so tired. The back of my neck feels
broken in two — so please hurry.
When you finally reach the clerk, you
must give your name, your address, the
color of your eyes and your exact height
in feet and inches.
But I don't know it. What a lot of
bother about nothing at all. Well, go on.
There is a post in the center of the
room, you say, and that I must take my
hat off and stand up to be measured?
You may as well stop where you are,
Anne Kaeburn. Do you think for one in-
stant that I am going to take my hat off
when it takes about twenty-seven hat-pins
and three-quarters of an hour to adjust it
properly? Never, as long as I live, will
I do it for any old country, and you need
not think that you can persuade me to
vote if that is the way I have to do !
HAD A KICK COMING.
"This opposition to race suicide may be
all right," sighed Atlas, as he shifted the
world over to the left; "but it certainly
weighs heavy on my shoulders."
* * *
"An honest man is the noblest work of
God !" exclaimed the reverend gentleman
. sonorously.
"Yes, and I honestly believe," observed
Miss Synick, "that God rested six days out
of the week and worked on Sunday."
MEAN THING.
"My dear," began the young husband,
"this pie is just like mother used to
make.'
"Oh, you darling man!" and the wife
threw her arms around him.
"Yes," he continued, "the only thing
mother couldn't do was make good pie."
* * *
"Tell me what you eat, and I'll tell you
what you are."
"And because I eat breakfast food, I
suppose you'd call me a saw mill."
* * *
A QUESTION.
"Pa, just one more."
"Well?"
"If Adam hadn't eaten that apple, do
you think that Cain would have come
along later on and hooked it?"
* * *
"Isn't it a misfortune that Spout, the
great lecturer, stutters ?"
"Decidedly not — for Spout. He gets
paid by the word." L. S. LEVY.
* * *
THE SHORT STORY CLUB.
The Overland Monthly is the official
magazine of the Pacific Short Story Club,
an organization devoted to the literary in-
terests of the West.
Henry Meade Bland, San 'Jose, Coast
President.
Clyde Keynolds, Lodi, Secretary.
Jannette Wtilliams Potter, San Jose,
Assistant Secretary.
Executive Committee — Mrs. Mary B.
Williams, Sevastopol, Cal. ; Mrs. Grace
Hoover-Potter, Hanford, Cal.; Charlotte
Ayer, Forestville, Cal.; Emma Schray,
Laton, Cal.
All wishing to become club members
should address Henry Meade Bland,
President of the club, San Jose. The club
is not only for those who read and appre-
ciate good literature, but serves as a
school to those who would develop them-
selves in literary art. Announcements
further as to the scope of the club will be
made from time to time.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
xxi
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THAT
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xxii
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
TSeOVERLAND
Fiction Number
Those who are fond of the Western story, with all its thrill of adventure and
romance, will find the October number of the Overland Monthly the most attrac-
tive issue of a Western magazine ever issued. This fiction number will contain a
collection of strong, virile tales of the young West, telling the romance of the
rugged, free-born Westerner.
"SALT OF THE EABTH," by Robert W. Hartwell, is a story of life on the
Western desert lands, and it has a bigness about it which will make it one of the
notable stories that have appeared in the OVEBLAND MONTHLY. When you
read this story, you will find in it all the elements of a great short story ; it grips
you with its power, its compelling human interest, and its tense dramatic setting.
Another tale that will command interest is "BUCKA-
BOO JIM," by Herbert Coolidge. Mr. Coolidge is one
of the younger generation of California writers who are
winning fame as vigorous portrayers of distinctly Western
fiction. "BUCK ABO 0 JIM" is the story of a plainsman
who fought a losing battle for life with a roving band of
Mexicans in the Colorado country. The illustrations,
which so well depict the tragedy of the story, are by W.
B. DeLappe.
HERBERT COOLIDGE
A story that savors of the romance of the California
vaquero is a tale by a promising CCalifornia writer,
Stella P. Wynne. "AN IDYLL OF THE CIBCLE L"
is one of the best stories ever published of California ranch
life, catching, as it does, the spirit of the happy, care-free
existence of the typical cow-puncher. The illustrations
are by B. W. Borough.
STELLA F. WYNNE
These are not all. There will be other stories by well known writers of the best
fiction. Our aim in presenting the fiction number is to gather together the best
stories by the best writers of the West. The OVEBLAND MONTHLY is the
magazine of the entire West, and its pages are filled with the work of writers who
are best able to depict the life and environment of this land of the Pacific.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
xxiii
for OCTOBER
Special Articles
The special articles in the October number will have an interest as strong as the
fiction, and will reveal many wonderful things about a very wonderful country.
Sidney J. Dillon contributes a complete and elaborate article on the "DES
MOINES PLAN" of city Government. This article will attract widespread atten-
tion. It gives an account of the recent successful government of Des Moines by
five citizens. Eeaders in every city of the United States will feel a peculiar inter-
est in this article because of the generalpolitical unrest of the nation.
Charles Lorrimer, whose travel articles on Japan have in the past met with favor
with all readers of the OVERLAND MONTHLY, will begin a new series of ac-
counts of the conditions existing in Japan to-day. These articles will be extensive-
ly perused because of an awakened interest throughout the United States in all
things that pertain to the Japanese. The story, which is entitled "FROM
TOKIO TO KOBE," is illustrated with beautiful photographs taken en route by
the author.
Those who are interested in the writings and work of Edwin Markham, will find
in an article by Henry Meade Bland an absorbing study of the labors and literary
masterpieces of the famous author of "The Man with the Hoe," in whom every
Californian has a native interest.
The various departments of BOOK REVIEWS, DILETTANTE and EDI-
TORIALS will be carefully arranged and edited. Under the department of dra-
matics, Julian Johnson will contribute an account of the rise of the drama in the
West and its great future here in California.
ILLUSTRATION ACCOMPANYING "FROM TOKIO TO KOBE."
Ion cannot afford to miss this issue of the greatest Western magazine. On sale at all News-stands
September 30th. Subscriptions may begin at any time.
XX|V Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
SEPTEMBER
SUNSET
CONTAINS
Invasion of Oxford
A critical study of work done at Oxford University,
England, by the first Cecil Rhodes scholars. It is writ-
ten by W. C. Chittenden, the first Californian to win
one of the coveted scholarships. A large part of the
article is devoted to describing the prominence of Amer-
jcan men in scholarship and ^athletics. The article is
well illustrated.
The New San Francisco
Architects' designs ot buildings for which contracts
have been let and construction is under way; A SIXTEEN
PAGE, TWO-COLORED TINT BLOCK FORM, show-
ing buildings as designed, including the new White
House, Thomas H. Williams building, Metropolis Trust
Company building, Alaska Commercial building, First
National Bank building, Emporium, Princess Theater,
Phelan building, and others.
The Spread of San Francisco
A third article by Rufus Steele, beautifully illustra-
ted, showing how San Francisco is rapidly extending
down the peninsula. This article will be devoted espec-
ially to suburban 'towns, pointing out that owing to the
new Bay Shore Railway Cut-off the charms of country
life are no longer only for the millionaire but are easily
reached by the person of moderate means.
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IS AN ILLUSTRATED MONTHLY
MAGAZINE FULL OF IDEAS
Decorating and Furnishing the
Home correctly and tastefully is as
necessary as dressing fashionably
and becomingly
1O cents, postpaid $ 1 .00 a year
Catalog of Books on Decoration Free
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xxvi
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THE AUTOPIANO
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xxvii
SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.
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TheOVERLAND MONTHLY CO., Publishers
Offices — 773 Market St., San Francisco.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
Free Sample of Toxico Mailed to any Address
TOXICO, the great discovery for ASTHMA, HAY FEVER, BRONCHITIS,
and CATARRH, has cured thousands of the most stubborn cases. It makes no
difference how long you have been suffering from any of these diseases, or how
severe the climatic conditions are where you live, TOXICO WILL CURE YOU.
If you have experimented with other treatments and have failed to find a cure, do
not be discouraged, but try at our expense this truly meritorious remedy.
This marvelous remedy is a scientific compound discovered by a professor of the
Vienna University, Austria. TOXICO is an internal treatment, pleasant to take,
and does not derange the stomach, as the dose is only 6 drops in a small wine-
glass of water. GUARANTEED under the Pure Food and Drugs Act, June 30,
1906.
Read these letters from CURED PATIENTS
A CASE OF CATARRH OF LONG
STANDING.
Dec. 31st, 1906.
Toxico Laboratory:
Gentlemen:
I had a very severe case of ca-
tarrh of long standing. On waking
In the morning I would have to
clear my throat, and a hard lump
about the size of the end of your
thumb would come from my
throat. Now, after using your
Toxico treatment, this lump has
nearly disappeared, and the con-
tinual ringing in my right ear has
jntirely ceased. I am well satis-
tied. Yours respectfully,
W. R. BYNUM,
713 N. 19th St., Birmingham, Ala.
HAD HAY FEVER FOR 26
YEARS.
Sept. 13th, 1906.
Toxico Laboratory: Sirs:
I have had hay fever for 26 years,
and no one knows what I have
suffered. My head and eyes have
bothered me so much that I have
had to stay in a dark room. Noth-
ing gave me any relief until I tried
Toxico, and since I have taken
your wonderful medicine I have
not been bothered once. Excuse
me for not answering sooner, but
I have been very busy since my
hay fever has been cured.
Yours respectfully,
MRS. CLARAH KELLER,
Elyria, Ohio. Route 3.
Proof beyond
a doubt that
TOXICO
is a positive
cure for these
diseases.
These extracts
are from
original letters
on file in our
offices
and have been
selected from
thousands
of similar ones
which we
receive daily.
HAD ASTHMA ATTACKS ONCE
A WEEK.
Dec. 3d, 1906.
Toxico Laboratory:
Gentlemen:
I get asthma once a week regu-
larly and I have to vomit and
cough; my eyes get blood red and
swell up. Your free sample did
not help me much, as I have
asthma a long time. You may
send me a month's treatment, and
I hope it will cure me.
I remain respectfully,
FORREST G. GLASSER,
Kutztown, Pa.
Read this letter, received more
than three months later:
March 20th, 1907.
Sirs:
I have not had an asthmatic at-
tack since I received your first
bottle — that is, after I had taken
Toxico for two weeks. I used to
have attacks every week. My ap-
petite improved, and I am now
strong and open chested, and can
take part in athletic games. I
cheerfully recommend Toxico to all
sufferers, and will answer all ques-
tions about the effect of your rem-
edy. I hope this will direct a suf-
ferer to your wonderful remedy.
I remain yours respectfully,
FORREST GLASSER,
Kutztown, Pa.
Send right now for a free sample of TOXIGO before you forget it. Address
THETOXIGO LABORATORY, 544 Townsend B'ld'g, New York City.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
xxix
HOTEL CUMBERLAND
NEW YORK
S. W. Cor. Broadway at, 54th Street.
IDEAL LOCATION.
NEAR THEATRES,
SHOPS AND
; CENTRAL PARK
New,
Modern
aid
Absolutely
Fireproof
Coolest Summer
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Close to 5th Ave.
"L" and Subway
and accessible to
all surface car
lines. Transien
rates $2.50 with
Bath and up. Al
outside rooms.
Special rates for
summer months.
SEND FOR BOOKLET
Under the management of HARRY P. STIMSON, formerly with
Hotel Imperial, New York; B. J. BINGHAM, formerly with Hotel
Woodward.
THE GERMAN SAVINGS
AND LOAN SOCIETY
526 CALIFORNIA STREET.
San Francisco, Cal.
Guaranteed Capital and Surplus. $2, 603,755. 68
Capital actually paid up in cash. 1,000,000.00
Deposits, June 29, 1907 38,156,931.28
OFFICERS— President, N. Ohlandt; First
Vice-President, Daniel Meyer; Second Vice-
President, Emil Rohte; Cashier, A. H. R.
Schmidt; Assistant Cashier, William Herr-
mann; Secretary, George Tourny; Assistant
Secretary, A. H. Muller; Goodfellow & Bells,
General Attorneys.
BOARD OF DIRECTORS— N. Ohlandt,
Daniel Meyer, Emil Rohte, Ign. Steinhart,
I. N. Walter, J. W. Van Bergen, F. Till-
mann, Jr., E. T. Kruse and W. S. Goodfel-
low.
A
Famous
EXGIN
The G. M. WHE,£LE,R
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For those who want a remark-
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G. M. WHZ,E,LI,R Grade
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LLGINS of equal grade and reasonable
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ELGIN NATIONAL WATCH CO.,
Elgin, III.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
Every reader of Overland Monthly should have this book.
FACTS and FORMS
BY PROFESSOR E. T. ROE, LL. B.
A HAND BOOK OF
READY REFERENCE
A neat, new, practical, reliable and up-to-date little manual of legal ana business form,
with tables, weights, measures, rules, short methods of computation and miscellaneous infor-
mation valuable to every oite.
Describes the Banking System of the United States, obligations of landlord and tenant,
employer and employee, and exposes the numerous swindling schemes worked on the un-
wary.
A saver of time and money for the busy man of whatever calling, in fees for advice and
legal forms, in correctly estimating the amount of material required for a building, the
weight or contents of bins, boxes or tanks; in measuring land, lumber, logs, wood, etc.;
and in computing interest, wages, or the value of anything at any given price.
SOME OP WHAT "FACTS AND FORMS"' CONTAINS.
Bookkeeping, single and double entry. Forms of every kind of business letter. How to
write deeds, notes, drafts, checks, receipts, contracts, leases, mortgages, acknowledgments,
bills of sale, affidavits, bills of lading, etc.
How to write all the different forms of endorsements of notes, checks and other negotiable
business papers. Forms of orders.
LAWS GOVERNING
RULES FOR
Acknowledgments, agency assignments,
building and loan association*, collection of
debts, contracts, interest rates, deeding of
property, employer and employee, landlord
and tenant, neighbors' animals, line fences,
property, subscriptions, transportation,
trusts and monopolies, working on Sundays
and legal holidays, and many other sub-
jects.
Painting and mixing paints, parliamen-
tary procedure, governing the finding of
lost property, shipping, governing chattel
mortgages, rapid addition and multiplica-
tion, discounting notes, computing interest,
finding the contents of carrels, tanks, cis-
terns, cribs, bins, boxes — anything, the
amount of brick, lime, plaster, lath re-
quired for building wall or cellar, the num-
ber of shingles or slats required for roofing,
and hundreds of other things.
A Swindling Note-Be On Your Guard-Hundreds Have Been Caught
One year after date, I promise to pay to John Dawson or
order Five Hundred and Seventy-five Dollars ($575)
or value received, with interest at seven per cent.
payable at Newton, Kan.
GEO. W. ELLSWORTH.
bearer Fifty Dollars when I sell by
worth of hedge plants
Said Fifty Dollars when due Is
Agent for John Dawson.
SJ3E "FACTS AND FORMS" FOR FULL EXPLANATION.
EVERY READER OF THE OVERLAND MONTHLY CAN SECURE A COPY OF "FACTS
AND FOR,v,S," A BOOK WORTH $1, BY SENDING 30 CEN i S WITH HIS NAME AND
ADDRESS TO THE PUBLISHERS, 905 LINCOLN AVENUE, ALAMEDA, CAL.
iara
Srlturrn
5tlj anb Btb
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
xxxi
Ohltforma
Art (Haas
Wn\. grhnicfirr. Jlrruiiirnt
, (Eal.
ffl^ala anh
at all Worlfc J^atra anil itplnmaa
ani (Eutttttg Works
JTrnuutranj 1B1T
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Wri ing Advertisers.
Absolutely Without a Peer
THE MELVILLE CLARK
APOLLO PLAYER PIANOS
They cannot be equalled in the trade for the following unanswerable reasons:
1. They have the 88 note range, or the entire piano keyboard, each
one of the 88 pneumatic fingers striking a piano key. The Apollo is the
only player piano in the world that has this range. All others have only 65 notes or 5
octaves. Would you be satisfied with a 5 octave piano when the standard range is
7^j octaves? If not, you will naturally prefer the standard player with 88 notes.
2. Another important feature in Apollo player construction is the effective
transposing mouthpiece, which represents fully 95 per cent, of player piano
value. By its use the key can be changed to accompany any voice or musical instru-
ment. This one feature gives the Apollo player a great additional value in the musical
home. The transposing mouthpiece also prevents the annoyances caused by the shrink-
ing and swelling of the music rolls, which is oftentimes a source of great annoyance, and
interferes with the proper execution of the score. No other player in the world has
this transposing mouthpiece.
These important features give the Apollo an unrivalled advantage and make it
THE PLAYER FOR THE MUSICAL HOME
None other can touch it in superior features. It is peerless.
Send for illustrated booklet to the manufacturers
Melville Clark Piano Co.
Department O
STEINWAY HALL, CHICAGO
MANY things of the past have given
away to improvements of the present.
Something had to take the place of the old-fashioned
razor, and the Gillette Safety Razor, with the first new
idea in razor blades in over 400 years, has solved the
problem of Self-Shaving for the up-to-date man.
The man who does not use a " GILLETTE " to-day is
depriving himself of time and money in adhering to the barber
habit.
"Shave Yourself" with the "GILLETTE" which will
shave you at a cost of less than
a penny each
time.
The Gillette Safety Razor coti-
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blades become dull — throw away and buy
10 Brand New Double-Edged << GILLETTE "
Blades for SO cents.
No blades exchanged or resharpened.
The price of the " GILLETTE " Set is $5.00 everywhere.
Sold by the leading Jewelry, Drug, Cutlery, and Hardware Dealers
throughout the world.
Ask for the ' ' GILLETTE ' ' and booklet. When substitutes are
offered, refuse same and write at once for our free trial offer.
GILLETTE SALES CO.
283 Times Bldg., New York City.
WD RfNf
:HE PRICE
THE
BUTTON
THAT'S
NSURED
Because the
Krementz
Collar Button
costs more to manu-
facture than any
other gold-plated
collar button on the
market. The reason?
There's more gold in it. Not a
mere wash or dip, but a layer of
gold rolled on the supporting metal. Wears
longer than any other button made. The
quality is stamped on back and guaranteed.
All first-class dealers keep them. "Story
of Collar Button " gives all styles and sizes.
FREE for asking.
KREMENTZ & CO.
24 Chestnut St. Newark, N. J.
IB
MENNENS
BORATED TALCUM
TOILET POWDER
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in the hands of the little
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whose fees are small.
MENNEN'S
Borated Talcum
TOILET POWDER
protects and soothes, a sure
relief from Sunburn,
Prickly Heat, Chafing,
etc. Put up in non-refill-
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the cover it's genuine and
a guarantee of purity
Delightful after shaving
Guaranteed under Food & llruirs
Act J,me SO, 190«. Serai No.lM2.
Bold everywhere, or by mail, 25c.
SAMPLE FREE
G.Mennen Co., Newark, N.J.
Try MennenV
» lolet Iterated
Talcum I'owdrr
It ha* the eont of
fre»h cat Parma
Violet*.
"j.'isij Dinosunl
BAKER'S
COCOA
Registered,
U. S. Tat. Of*.
First in Years !
First in Honors !
First on the
Breakfast Tables
of the World!
HIGHEST AWARDS IN
EUROPE 'NO AMERICA
WALTER BAKER & Co., Ltd.
[Established 1780]
DORCHESTER, MASS.
GENTLEMEN
WHO DRESS FOR STYLE
NEATNESS, AND COMFORT
WEAR THE IMPROVED
BOSTON
GARTER
THE RECOGNIZED STANDARD
VOSC PIANOS
The Name is
stamped on every
loop —
The
CUSHION
BUTTON
CLASP
LIES FLAT TO THE LEG— NEVER
SLIPS, TEARS NOR UNFASTENS
Sample pair, Silk 50c., Cotton 25c.
Mailed on receipt of price.
GEO. FROST CO., Maker*
Boston, Mass.. U.S.A.
ALWAYS EASY
have been established over 55 years. By our system
or payments every family of moderate circum-
stances can own a VOSE Piano. We take old in-
struments in exchange and deliver the new piano
in your home free of expense. Write for Catalo&u*
Overland
STIRRING FICTION
Strong graphically told Stories, the
kind that hold the reader from
start to finish, in this
Special Story Number
Timely Articles
San Francisco is emerging from an
era of mismangement.
Read 'The Des Moines plan of City
Government," by Sidney J. Dillon
The Overland Monthly Company, SanFranciscol
Nothing Equal To It
The Melville Clark Apollo Player Piano
The only player piano in the world that can play 88 notes or the entire piano
keyboard.
The only player piano in the world with the effective transposing mouth-
piece that changes the music to any key to suit the voice or accompanying in-
strument. It also prevents the annoyance caused by the shrinking and swelling of
the music roll due to climatic conditions. This mouthpiece represents 95 per
cent, of player piano value.
These two superior features make the
APOLLO PLAYER ABSOLUTELY PEERLESS
Every sensible buyer will want a player piano that will play seven and one-third
octaves. That is the Apollo player range. Every one of the 88 piano keys is
struck by a pneumatic finger. No couplers are used.
ALL OTHER PLAYER PIANOS
have a range of only 65 notes or 5 octaves
Would you buy a 5 octave piano f Certainly not. Then why would you buy a 5 octave
player piano, when you can get the APOLLO with its seven and one-third octave range?
The Apollo is the Standard
Its tone is beautiful; its mechanism perfect; its case designs extremely attractive. It is
the highest type of the artistic player piano.
Send to the manufacturers for a handsome illustrated catalogue. Address
Melville Clark Piano Co.
Dept. O
Steinway Hall, Chicago
The Apollo plays 58, 65 and 88 note music
BENJ. CURTAZ & SONS, AGENTS, 1615 VAN NESS AVE. SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
TIFFANY & Co.
Fifth Avenue and 37th Street, New York
A Basis for Comparison of Prices
Tiffany & Co. always welcome a comparison of prices
While this applies to their rich as well as inexpensive
jewelry, silverware, clocks, bronzes and other objects,
it is possible for their patrons more easily to make
comparisons on certain articles of silverware than on
some of the more individual pieces from their stock
To this end the method of marking prices on
Tiffany & Co.'s copyrighted patterns of
Sterling Silver Forks and Spoons
At $1.00 per ounce
furnishes exact information as to weights and values
These patterns are not sold through the trade or other
dealers and each piece is of English sterling quality
9257 JOOO fine. Upon this basis prices per dozen
range as follows;
Tea Spoons dozen $ II upward
Dessert Spoons " J8
Soup or Table Spoons " 25
Breakfast, Entree or Dessert Forks " J 7
Dinner or Table Forks " 23
Cuts of patterns sent upon request, also estimates for
special sets to suit individual requirements
Fifth Avenue Newark
Tiffany & Co. 1907 Blue Book — a compact catalogue without illustrations; 621 pages of concise
descriptions with range of prices of jewelry, silverware, clocks, bronzes, pottery, glassware and
other objects suitable for wedding presents or other gifts — Blue Book sent upon request
Vol. L
No. 4
OVERLAND MONTHLY
An Illustrated Magazine of the West
CONTENTS FOR OCTOBER, 1907
MARION COOK
DRAWING BY L. B. HASTE
ROBERT W. HARTWELL
OCTOBER. . Verse
FRONTISPIECE
THE SALT OF EARTH
Illustrated by L. B. Haste.
THE BIG BASIN
Illustrated by the author.
FROM TOKIO TO KOBE . . . .
Illustrated with photographs.
BUCKAROO JIM. Story
Illustrated by TV. R. DeLappe.
UNCLE ABE'S DAY DREAM. Verse
Drawings by R. E. Snodgrass. . •
THE DES MOINES PLAN OF CITY GOVERNMENT SIDNEY J. DILLON
ELOISE J. ROORBACK
CHARLES LORRIMER
HERBERT COOLIDGE
JAY C. POWERS
LOVE'S AWAKING. Verse ....
THE NEMESIS. Story
THE ICEBERG'S BIRTH. Verse
EDWIN MARKHAM AND HIS ART
Illustrated with portraits.
RESTITUTION. Verse
TEN CENTS TO THE FERRY
Illustrated by W. R. Davenport.
UMEKO SAN Story
Illustrated by R. E. Schad.
THE SANTA BARBARA MISSION .
Illustrated with drawings and photographs.
THANK GOD PER "CALIFORNY"
AN IDYLL OF THE CIRCLE L. Story
Illustrated by W. R. Borough.
SOMEWHERE. Verse
ON THE OREGON TRAIL. Story
WAR AND THE COMMODORE
Drawings by R. E. Snodgrass.
TO A WILD ROSE. Verse
DRAMATICS. The New World of the Play
Illustrated with photographs.
EL CAMINO REAL. Verse ....
WHERE THE ORIENT MEETS THE OCCIDENT
illustrated with photographs.
MONTEREY WAKES UP
STRIKING OIL IN MONTEREY
Illustrated with diagrams.
DONALD A. FRASER
DON MARK LEMON
CHARLOTTE W. THURSTON
HENRY MEADE BLAND
LEO LEVY
OLIVE DIBERT
SAMUEL NEWSOM
ALICE D. O. GREENWOOD
STELLA F. WYNNE
ISABELLE M. TENNANT
FRANK H. SWEET
HORATIO LANKFORD KING
FLORENCE SLACK CRAWFORD
JULIAN JOHNSON
M. TINGLE , ,
HAL JACKSON
WASHINGTON DAVIS
WASHINGTON DAVIS
293
294
295
301
309
317
322
324
328
329
331
333
337
338
343
350
360
361
366
367
371
377
379
384
385
391
392
Issued Monthly. $1.50 per year, in advance. Fifteen Cents per copy.
Copyrighted, 1906, by the Overland Monthly Company.
,£r !n*ry,a~ second-cjass mail matter has been made at the San Francisco, Cal.
Rntt' i!£fo °f Congress of March 3, 1879. Northwestern offices at 74 Hirbour Build-
Butte, Montana, under management of Mrs. Helen Fitzgerald Sanders.
Published by the OVERLAND MONTHLY COMPANY, San Francisco, California.
773 Market Street.
please Mention Overland Monthl> When Writing Advertisers.
•Ill
CORSETS
$1.00 TO $10.00
AND
BON TON
A FAIR OFFER.!
to convince
$1.00 TO $10.00
Combine features of Style
and Fit which make ihem the
choice of Modistes wherever
fine dressmaking is done.-^D
ID BY All LEADING DEALERS ON THE PACIFIC COAST
DYSPEPTICS
and those suffering from
Stomach Troubles
of the efficiency of
Slycozone
I will send a
$1.00 BOTTLE FREE
Only one to a family
to any one NAMING THIS MAGAZINE, and
enclosing 25c. to pay forwarding charges. This
offer is made t»o demonstrate t»he efficiency
of t*his remedy.
Glycozone is absolutely harmless.
It cleanses the lining membrane of the stom-
ach and thus subdues inflammation, thus helping
nature to accomplish a cure.
GLYCOZONE cannot fail to help you, and
will not harm you in the least.
Indorsed and successfully used by leading
physicians for over 15 years.
Sold by leading druggists. None genuine
without my signature.
Chemist and Graduate of the "Ecole Centiale de§ Arlt et Manu-
facture? de Paris," (France).
57 Prince Street, New York City,
FREEl-Valuable booklet on how to treat diseases.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
Free Sample of Toxico Mailed to any Address
TOXICO, the great discovery for ASTHMA, HAY FEVEE, BEONCHITIS,
and CATARRH, has cured thousands of the most stubborn cases. It makes no
difference how long you have been suffering from any of these diseases, or how
severe the climatic conditions are where you live, TOXICO WILL CUKE YOU.
If you have experimented with other treatments and have failed to find a cure, do
not be discouraged, but try at our expense this truly meritorious remedy.
This marvelous remedy is a scientific compound discovered by a professor of the
Vienna University, Austria. TOXICO is an internal treatment, pleasant to take,
and does not derange the stomach, as the dose is only 6 drops in a small wine-
glass of water. GUAEANTEED under the Pure Food and Drugs Act, June 30,
1906.
Read these letters from CURED PATIENTS
A CASE OF CATARRH OF LONG
STANDING.
Dec. 31st, 1906.
Toxico Laboratory:
Gentlemen:
I hajl a very severe case of ca-
tarrh of long standing. On waking
in the morning I would have to
clear my throat, and a hard lump
about the size of the end of your
thumb would come from my
throat. Now, after using your
Toxico treatment, this lump has
nearly disappeared, and the con-
tinual ringing in my right ear has
jntirely ceased. I am well satis-
tied. Yours respectfully,
W. R. BYNUM,
713 N. 19th St., Birmingham, Ala.
HAD HAY FEVER FOR 26
YEARS.
Sept. 13th, 1906.
Toxico Laboratory: Sirs:
I have had hay fever for 26 years,
and no one knows what I have
suffered. My head and eyes nave
bothered me so much that I have
had to stay in a dark room. Noth-
ing gave me any relief until I tried
Toxico, and since I have taken
your wonderful medicine I have
not been bothered once. Excuse
me for not answering sooner, but
I have been very busy since my
hay fever has been cured.
Yours respectfully,
MRS. CLARAH KELLER,
Elyria, Ohio. Route 3.
Proof beyond
a doubt that
TOXICO
is a positive
cure for these
diseases.
These extracts
are from
jriginal letters
on file in our
offices
and have been
selected from
thousands
of similar ones
which we
.receive daily.
HAD ASTHMA ATTACKS ONCE
A WEEK.
Dec. 3d, 1906.
Toxico Laboratory:
Gentlemen :
I get asthma once a week regu-
larly and I have to vomit and
cough; my eyes get blood red and
swell up. Your free sample did
not help me much, as I have
asthma a long time. You may
send me a month's treatment, and
I hope it will cure me.
I remain respectfully,
FORREST G. GLASSER,
Kutztown, Pa.
ReajJ this letter, received more
than three months later:
March 20th, 1907.
Sirs:
I have not had an asthmatic at-
tack since I received your first
bottle — that is, after I had taken
Toxico for two weeks. I used to
have attacks every week. My ap-
petite improved, and I am now
strong and open chested, and can
take part in athletic games. I
cheerfully recommend Toxico to all
sufferers, and will answer all ques-
tions about the effect of your rem-
edy. I hope this will direct a suf-
ferer to your wonderful remedy.
I remain yours respectfully,
FORREST GLASSER,
Kutztown, Pa.
Send right now for a free sample of TOXIGO before you forget it. Address
THE TOXICO LABORATORY, 544 Townsend B'ld'g, New York City.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
TYPEWRITBJ^
It writes your bills with double the speed of the pen.
It writes bill and charge sheet at one writing — no more need for
:|eparate charge entries.
It writes, at the same time, any additional charge or order copies that
rour system may require.
It adapts itself perfectly to your system or the needs of any business.
It improves system, insures against errors — makes short cuts which
vere impossible under former methods.
It extends the field of the typewriter to form and tabular work of
:very kind and description, and always with an immense saving of time,
^bor, and expense.
tend for our illustrated booklet on the Remington Billing Typewriter
Remington Typewriter Company
(Incorporated)
New York and Everywhere
vl
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D
OCTOBER
BY
MABI<m COOK
EAR Heart, 'tis true the summer's sun hath set,
And earth no more can feel her warm pulse beat;
But sheen and glory linger with us yet,
Though touched with prints of autumn's footsteps fleet.
In place of quiet green and softening shade,
We have the flaming grandeur of the woods;
Those kindling signal-fires by nature made
To herald the approach of wintry moods.
And it is true our love was warm and red
And glowing as the rose — must it, too, die?
And, fluttering, fall as trembling leaves are shed,
Unloosed by every breath that passeth by?
Ah, no, it cannot be! beneath the snow,
The tender green still lives — though hid from view;
Its life is safe; and when spring breezes glow,
The perfect flower will open, love, for you!
"i CAN'T DO IT NOW, FOR T PROMISED, AND SHE GAVE ME THIS TO REMEMBER/
Pago 800: "Salt of the Earth."
Overland Monthly
No. 4
OCTOBER, 1907
Vol. L
[VILIZATIOX in the
city of Tucson has
been and is a contra-
diction. Two hundred
and fifty years ago,
upwards, the crucifix
was there planted. To-
day, after these two
hundred and fifty years of civilizing, there
still clings more of the border than per-
haps in any other city of the land; there
exists at once the oldest and the newest.
There, each day, as Phoebus' car rolls the
heavens, the shadow of the cross falls up-
on gambling houses, rendezvous to those
that pry, pitfalls to the weak.
In one such, Dave Hill found Tom But-
ler. The two were from the same State,
alike in their need of money, neither of
squeamish morals.
Butler, though a "new," had been under
fire in the Philippines, was a dead shot,
and would "stand for business;" more-
over, he had a grievance against the Gov-
ernment. Thereby hangs this • tale;
though, as will subsequently appear, other
factors enter into the argument.
I.
"And what if I promise not, Anita, or,
promising, do as the good Filipino who
puts his Mauser in the cane (mud upon
his carcass), says: 'Americano amigo, yo
mucho ombre, muclio!' and with a belly-
ful from the sentry's haversack, shoots
him in the back half an hour later ? Ca !
Chito! What does the Government for me
now that I must live in the damned coun-
try or die by consumption? Six dollars
a month — bah ! What is chat ? Enough
to pay your mother for washing, no more.
Do they not owe me for what they have
taken? We shall see, my girl. Cjala!
I shall present a forty-four and a bill
quickly payable. The pension needed six
months, the bill shall need six seconds.
Ca! it will be excellent."
"Aye, excellent, Tomasso, it may be, but
what will it make of vou and of the one,
chiquito, that will come to us before the
Christmas ? It is to be a boy surely, and .
you would not pay the padre with gold
that has blood-stains? Nor put upon me
a greater weight for confession ? Is it not
enough already, and not until to-night we
marry ?
"I have thought much, Tomasso, and
this is the end of it ; if you are gone with
this man, patting blood on your soul, the
small one shall have no father; we shall
not marry to-night, nor next week nor the
week after ; I shall go amongst my peo-
ple who talk not overmuch, being kind.
The Holy Virgin will protect. You wear
296
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
beneath the coat the star of the men at
Washington, and have given oath. Keep
the oath — do as the star has said. Promise
to me, or I go not with you to the padra,
and he, chiquito — there, naughty! kiss me
no more."
The shadows of the cane clump and of
the mesquite bush were long and dim
where they fell across the square, adobe-
walled yard. The women had left their
washing stones by the well. The odor of
chile came from the kitchen beyond the
well, where, about a fire upon the earth
floor, squatted, chattering in the soft un-
dertone of the southern lands, women and
children. Convent street, hushed from the
day's work, took on the lower, more per-
vasive hum of pleasure. Sunset lights
bathed the ancient pueblo of Tucson with
rose and golden pigments; then upward
they moved, ascending the cathedral till it
alone was touched; hastening, leaped to
the peaks of the East — into the clouds —
and then came twilight, ancient and
Lethean. Children played in the streets;
later the populace would stroll forth in the
balmy, ineffable night, while out from the
flat-roofed adobe buildings of the Mexi-
can quarter, sweetly, dreamily, floating, a
song of old Spain — "La Paloma."
But he stood up and crossed the en-
closure to the street wall. He rested his
hands upon its top, looking over. The
sun was just gone. A bell from the cathed-
ral struck; another, and the evening call
chimed forth. He turned to the sound and
scowled; the church, always the church,
was between him and this woman whom he
had learned to love in a new, strange way
to him. She was only a Mexican, he had
used to reflect; but the hand in his with
perfect trust, the eyes looking into his
own, sometimes of late filled with tears —
'yhat was it, anyway? "Bah! a fool! I'll
not go back again." Yet he always did.
And placing his tanned, scaly palms, one
on either of the girl's cheeks, turned the
lips to him and kissed them with a tender-
ness that was by himself as much marveled
at as was the love itself. It was not that
Tom Butler had known no other women
— no, that was not it.
The church! It was where he should
go within the hour — or should he? — to
stand with Josepha before the priest. The
priest would mumble words, make signs,
and afterwards Josepha would be his wife.
What did these things matter? All that
had been in the year past — was it of no
consequence? Could this priest in less
than a minute run through some stuff
that meant more than all? Bah! He
ground his teeth. Only it was her way.
She would give her life for him, that he
knew since she had nursed him in the
smallpox. Here, there, somehow, was
something to her more than life. Deeply
he wondered.
Down the street along the wall a child
and his mother approached through the
twilight. The child's mother held his
hand. Absently, he watched them, for he
loved a child, particularly a man child.
"Ah, Juan, not so fast; papa will not
yet be home. If thou art not a good boy
he'll not bring thee candy, non chiquito.
Dost love thy papa and thy mamma, my
chosen. Rogue ! Not so fast !"
But his eyes followed them to the turn
of the wall. "Thy papa and thy mamma,'''
he mused. "Thy papa and thy mamma."
What had Josepha said — if he forgot his
oath and went away to rob for gold, the
child should have no papa — they should
not marry to-night or ever. And he knew
that she meant it — strange that one so
mild should be so firm. He turned from
the wall. And though the light was
fainter now, he distinguished, extended in
her hand, the crucifix. At his footfalls
she looked quickly up, arose, and held
forth her arms.
An hour later, Padre Juan moved along
the quiet, darkened cathedral aisle, lifted
his calotte and crossed himself before the
Christ-image. Tom Butler, and Josepha,
his wife, passed through the outer corri-
dor and down the stone steps.
II.
The atmosphere was stifling with to-
bacco smoke, through which arc lights
glowed and sizzed in a peculiar wreathing
light. Men entered and departed con-
tinually, jostling as they crowded about
the hall towards one table and another,
craning to view the games, or pushing
forward to place their coin. The empty
bottle musician clanged assiduously from
his platform ; there was the click of shuf-
fled chips, calls of crap and roulette game-
sters, cursing in undertone from particu-
THE SALT OF EARTH.
297
lar unfortunates, orders for drinks, with
the subdued, pervading drone of conver-
sation.
Even the quiet, white-haired old gentle-
man at the monte board was crowded about
by players, for the most part Mexicans.
Dapper youths in shirt waists and cigar-
ettes were playing disproportionate sums
to a man for flipping an ivory ball about
a circle track. Boisterous negroes whirled
dice upon a buffered table. Stolid Chi-
nese loaded the faro board with their
wages. Determined looking, big som-
breroed cattle-men, solemn and taciturn,
were at poker in the corner room. The
Blazing Stump had a good night.
He saw the dollar gone before he placed
it. No matter. Dave Hill was gambling
and would not pause until, having no fur-
ther money, he could do nothing else. The
circle of players noticed the money placed
upon queen high; they did not notice the
man. All bets down. Two cards were
turned — queen came low, and the last of
fifty dollars was gone. Hill walked away,
relieved to be at the end of it.
"Nine o'clock/' he observed mentally,
glancing up as he passed the bar. "It is
time I was quitting this damned place.
Butler'll think I've got the cold. I would
shake him if there was any way out, for
I'm leary on that Mexican of his, but
there ain't no way. Anyhow, this job's
got to be done. If he gets queer, I'll make
a good of him easy enough."
He turned along the town's main street
toward the railway. Flotsam and jetsom
of the border passed him, miners, pros-
pectors, cowboys, Indians, and that in-
numerable company subject to no classifi-
cation bearing no mark of trade or busi-
ness, living no man knows how or why,
with here and there a gaudy pink and lace
creature, each human, each in the pursuit
of his special phantom. Hill gave no
heed. His only business was to see that
the sheriff's office remained properly ig-
norant, for although he was not aware of
being known to any one there or elsewhere
in Yuma, his photograph had an incon-
siderate way of coming into the possession
of these over-curious zealots of the law,
and he could not be certain that this par-
ticular office fell outside the class. He
told himself that he was a fool to visit the
gambling hall, but the light and the music
and the crowd had prevailed against his
fears. "Just how the boys all get pinched,"
he muttered, which was quite true. Dur-
ing the day he had purchased a ticket to
Mohawk Summit, and now, being in a
mind of caution as dangerous because of
its resultant eccentricity of action as his
former rashness had been, he hurried
down a by-street toward the freight yard
and into the shadow of a car. A voice
brought him out of his subjective con-
siderations to a startled, abrupt stand.
" Which way, Bo? Can we make the
blind here?"
But Hill's only answer was to move
further along in the shadow. And thus,
had he known it, the law drove home an-
other nail in its structure of prosecution
against the time when it should house
him in. He was relieved when the express
head-light glimmered through the cut
from the depot; and catching a platform
rail, he pulled up, entered the smoker, and
sat down in a rear corner.
From Yuma the railroad, by a heavy
curve and gradient, rises to the mesa, into
the distance interminable, mile upon mile,
stretches of gravel covered sand, dotted
with greasewood and mesquite. The man
in the smoker saw none of it. What he
did see, cursing his luck, was a big moon
getting above "the Fortuna's" saw-
toothed peaks. Incident mnltipl:ol
against him. He looked away to the
shadows at the base of the range — there
lay La Fortuna, the mine where in the old
time, the miners' work was hard, but at
the end of it came rest, with no unquiet-
ness, with no spectres rising omnipresent
to give him fear of all his kind. He had
been the most joyous among them, loving
his fellows and himself, fond of his beer,
but not too well, liked by all. Then came
an evil hour wherein she, laughing, told
him that she was sorry, but that he must
see, and drove away with a wave of a small
white bit of lace to the railway station.
God ! Yes, he saw it ! He knew why
it was. He was poor. That night he had
staked to the last dollar what he had saved
in months — and lost. He brooded. There
was that damned Italian with a year's
wages hoarded in his cabin. A pig — what
did such a life matter? He must hare
more money to play — to play for her. He
killed and played and lost.
298
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
No one knew, except he knew; which
was the beginning. Within the forest
trees are no longer seen. Hill did not
dwell upon that which had followed. Suc-
cess to-night meant twenty thousand in
gold. That must surely be enough for her.
And yet — and yet; what of the San Diego
blunder ? Might not his picture have gone
as far East as Virginia even ? What then ?
Suppose he won and lost? It was impos-
sible. ' Yet he moved on his seat uneasily.
He was displeased with the appearance of
the man in the seat ahead; the conductor
looked sharply at him; he was glad when
he stumbled from the train at Blaisdell
and walked along the bridge where Butler
was to meet him — Butler coming from
Tucson.
Half a mile west of the Blaisdell depot
a broad wash carries the rain-time floods
from the Fortuna Hills to the Gila river.
Three hundred and sixty-four days of the
year see here only the wide bed of dry
sand and boulders ; yet the remaining day
had by grievous lessons taught the rail-
way builders that rivers must be bridged.
Here, then, for two hundred yards, twenty
feet above the sands, a bridge carries the
rails. The plan of the robbery was sim-
ple. A fire upon the track at the bridge's
end would make it appear that the struc-
ture itself burned, stop the special and
draw a bead on the crew. Butler was to
cut free the treasure car, while Hill drove
the engine men, if they had not gone to
the fire, from the cab, and handling the
throttle: at a safe distance they were to
compel the messenger to deliver the treas-
ure or to blow the safe. Their escape lay
towards Mexico, for . had not Hill pros-
pected the mountains that way until they
were home to him? He looked upon them
now, calm, peace-giving in the white, cold
moonlight, spectral almost, their canyons,
their sharp serrations hid in shadows. Ah,
the old days ! The man was not right for
the business ahead — too much of this
thing was getting into him out of the
past. What he needed was whisky. There
was Butler now — he would have it.
A figure was advancing from the other
side of the bridge, and Hill extended his
hand.
"You've come, Tom — hev' you a bottle ?
Ye ain't neither? That's hell— I was
leary of Yuma, and ain't got a drop. Well,
an hour yet before the gold rattles. Let's
go to the other end and size her up. We
can get the brush from the mesquites for
the blaze and fix up now, so as there won't
be any danger of getting us unprepared.
That moon's bad — no helpin' it, though,
now. What's wrong — you're so mum?
Ain't got cold feet, have you, pard?"
Butler was following along the ties. He
had revolved the thing in his mind for
twenty-four hours — ever since he had
given Josepha his promise, when he told
her that he should remember his star, that
he should bring no money that was an-
other's. Perhaps he was a fool, for he
might have said to her that Hill was on
the square, that there was nothing wrong,
when that evening, coming suddenly in,
she had heard the words that led to the
question. Yet, he never had deceived her
in anything — .that is, never since the
strange love had taken hold of him, and
he could not now begin.
In any case, his honor bound him to
shield Hill. What should he say to him?
He had put the question to himself a
thousand times since the ride from
Tucson.
"No," he hesitated, "there ain;t nothing
wrong, Dave. But — I've got a little to
say. There ain't no hurry. Let's set a
bit on this stringer."
He turned to the side of the trestle
where a twelve-inch beam lay bolted to the
ends, and sat down. But he was not a
coward, shy in speech, or lacking in self-
assertion, yet here was something that for
the moment left him groping. Dave would
not understand him — he did not himself
understand — he knew that a new force im-
pelled him, possessed him as none ever
had before, showed the way and he fol-
lowed, though why he did not know. There
it was, masterful always, since first the
woman taught.
"You know, Dave, the woman, the
girl-
"The Mexican that keeps house, eh?"
Hill ground his teeth. Inwardly he
cursed. He had feared possible trouble,
for he had seen, and he had not been
blind. "Well, what of her? Nice, quiet
little woman enough, but what's she got to
do here ?"
He, too, sat down upon the beam.
There was anger beginning to show in his
THE SALT OF EARTH.
299
face, no need of whisky now.
"Don't say nothin' hard, Dave; don't,
because," — but he winced — "because, you
see, the night you and me fixed the thing
final at Tucson, we went to the Phantom
and took on some liquor, and afterwards
both goes along to my house, and settin'
in the door talk some about disposin' of
the stuff when we has it. Wtell, the booze
must have been more than we thought, as
most generally it is, limbered up our
tongues, for we waked up the girl, and she
hears the plan about buryin' the coin and
the rest."
"Go on, what's your play?"
But he had paused seemingly to wait
some question. His recountal was punc-
tuated by frequent haltings, as of one that
speaks with much effort. He placed his
hand upon the other's knee.
"Dave, we was married last night. And
I promised her first that I'd have no hand
in it — and it's late, I know, but I can't
do it!"
"White! Well, by ! And for a
Greaser !"
"Don't, Dave." Butler started up, his
voice was guttural. "Don't — she's my
wife. You've known me as marshal for
nigh six months. Did I ever show white ?
You see, the girl is goin' to be a mother,
Dave; I'm telling you so's you'll know I
ain't showin' white — and I couldn't have
the baby goin' with no name, bein' hers;
because, well, because I couldn't — that's
all. I don't know why, exactly, and I
can't explain. It's so, and there ain't no
more to it. 1 never myself understood the
meaning of such before."
He was talking now more as one that
thinks in speech, for the man at his side
was no longer addressed. He wandered in
the new country of his self, and looked
about curiously upon what he found.
"Well, by ! You, too!"
And then it came about that for a little
time the two men who had come together
to rob, to kill if it was necessary, walked
within the fane of love ; for that little time
passed out of the characters, the world
had trained them into, backward to the
instinct that God gives us all, being male
and female.
"I — thought — only for a damned Mexi-
can, a Greaser that's been keepin' your
house, a woman that any man "
"Dave !"
Butler's Colt ripped from its holster.
But the other was quicker and stronger;
he wrenched the pistol away, threw it into
the sand beyond, and flung the man back
with such violence that he fell head-long
between the rails. Hill drew his own re-
volver.
"Oh, no, Tom, you don't. Not this
time. Sit up, man, and listen — but no
gettin' onto your feet, no damned foolish-
ness, or it's all done with you. You'd a'
shot, eh? Listen, now, to me," he pro-
ceeded, when, after a moment the strug-
gle had left him calmer. "I ain't takin'
your play hard, ain't blamin' you so much
as you may think. The woman's told you
of stealin' and all — I understand — until
you've got queer on it. You're looking
wrong at it. Who earned the money on
that train ? Who dug it out of the ground ?
Not them ! They's the ones that stole it,
milled it, out of such as you and me —
ain't no more right to it than you 'r me —
not so much — it's grab and grab, and this
is our grab, that's all. There's twenty
thousand anyway in that safe — more than
you could get pluggin' away for the Gov-
ernment twenty years. What do you owe
to the Government, even if you do wear
that piece of brass ? Ain't they killed you
with fever in Manila ? What did you get
for that more than a go-to-hell — thank
you ? They is agin us and I'm agin
them."
The face of the man between the rails
was pale and hard. His lips moved me-
chanically, without sound. Over the pro-
truding bones of the cheek and jaw the
muscles were taut, showing in faint, par-
allel lines. He took from the lapel of his
coat a faded rosebud, fingered it, twirling,
turning and again holding it quietly with
his head bowed toward it and his eyes up-
on it. What was the process of his mind ?
Untutored, he had probably never heard
of Zeno or Epictitus; by balancing what
against what, came the choice that he
gave. Why not have lived for her? Did
he know that a carpenter's son once saw
the kingdoms of the earth, and would not
for them bow down? He was morally
weak or he would not at first have joined
the plot. Yet at last he said :
"Only she "
"She? What's she? What's anything?
300
OVEELAND MONTHLY.
D'ye s'pose I'm goin' to lose out at this
turn of the cards, when I've throwed three
years to hell? made plays as have took
from me everything but that? Your wo-
man, Tom! A damned Greaser — there's
millions of them. Mine ? God ! she ? Why,
she's my queen — those eyes, those lips,
those little curls a-fallin' down, them
dainty feet and hands. She? God!
pard!" Dave Hill wandered again, half
as he that dreams, looking now to him
that bent to the rose bud, now to the des-
ert, now to those stars above, so calm to
our encompassed sense. (Yet do they
not burn because of their desire, liter-
ally?)
"Tom, I'd kill my own mother for her.
Y' don't know me. Murder is behind me
now. Murder? What's the matter if
they's more ? Her lips and arms is power-
fuller than God himself to me. She's
God — she's heaven. And money between
us! Money'll give her to me. Ye see
that over yonder — to me Fortuna?" He
signaled with his hand. "Ye see that
trail along there? That's where she
waved back to me good-bye. I murdered
there for her three years ago. I've mur-
dered since for her. I give you the chance,
Tom. Can't you lie to your woman?
Tell her you wasn't in on't. Stay with me
now, and it's all right. If you don't, by
— — ! you'll never go back to her, an' I'll
leave you so's they'll say you was shot in
the hold-up. You know me — an' be in a
hurry — she's blowing up at Gila now."
Faintly, borne on the wind, startling
the reaches of the silence, over rock, over
sand, over cactus and mesquite, came a lo-
comotive's whistle dying and rising again.
Tom Butler raised his head from the
flower.
"No, Dave," he said, "I never lied to
her — since then. I'm the child's father—
I can't do it now, for I promised, and she
give me this to remember." And with
both hands he carried the rosebud to his
lips.
Men stricken in battle fall from full
height upon their faces, and are quiet;
or under blind, final messages, self-con-
structed and sent out by the motor nerves,
leap marvelously into the air. The body
of Tom Butler shot from its crouched pos-
ture forward over the guard rail and fell
to the sand below; while clutched in one
hand in his death, as was afterward found
and much commented upon, lay a faded
rosebud. A wisp of smoke dissipated and
disappeared. A man cursing that he had
delayed until too late hastened away along
the Fortuna trail. A locomotive's head-
light rushed out of the darkness, dimly
lighted sleepers whirled behind it, over
the bridge, above the one that died, power
and wealth and luxury above the clay that
was the Salt of Earth, and the red tail
lights passed from sight upon the mesa.
I G (7 A? IN.
BY ELOISE J. ROOKBACH
ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR.
UK FOREST reserves
are becoming more
and more appreciated
— not only because of
their invaluable use-
fulness, but for their
unsurpassed beauty.
The scientific for-
esters are pointing out to us their mani-
fold uses in other ways than merely the
yielding of a good lumber crop.
They place great value upon them as
protectors of our water sources, as modi-
fiers of our climate, as regulators of rain-
fall, as preservers of our wild animal kin.
They give them value as increasing our
love for out-door life and encourage the
establishing of parks that are sometimes
in the heart of the city, so that all may
have easy access to forest beauty. Some-
times in such distant and inaccessible
places that it takes a summer's vacation
to reach and enjoy.
There is something about a forest that
compels introspection, and I would add
this as one of their most valuable uses.
We hurry through life, hastily dipping
our cup into its various experiences, now
quaffing nectar, now gall.
The forests, serene and stately, turn us
to search our own minds with the same
zest we gave to the exploration of our out-
side world.
In their presence we experience the
ecstasy of contemplation; we drink from
the inexhaustible fountain of our own
minds, and the more we drink the richer
we become.
Our far-seeing Uncle Sam is setting
aside many thousands of acres yearly for
parks and reservations, and we cannot
now fully comprehend the great good that
will come from this protection of one of
our choicest heritages — the forests. In
California we have quite a number of
these reservations. Some famous ones in
the high Sierras and some less famous
but very lovely ones along the coast and
through the south of the State.
Most of these reserves are patrolled,
partly to prevent fires and partly to pro-
tect game. One of California's State for-
ests lies within easy reach of travelers
who visit this coast. This one is called
the Big Basin, and one can easily drive
there and back from Santa Cruz in a day.
One morning in the latter part of April we
drove to this State park, starting from a
little place called Brookdale.
For a driver we had one whose life had
been lived for the most part in these
Santa Cruz Mountains. His face was full
of the wrinkles that come from much
laughing and squinting at the sun, and
battles with the wind. His voice was deep
and kindly, and he knew every man, wo-
FATHER OF THE FOREST/
man, child, bird, tree, flower, canyon, on
the whole varied drive.
We drove about one and one-half miles
to Boulder Creek, a lumber town whose
main street is full of quaint lodging
houses, that no doubt used to be lively
places, but that are now resting from past
labors. Following the main road out of
Boulder Creek, we pass pleasant little
homes; many brooks, a deep canyon with
unreachable maidenhair ferns in tanta-
lizing view; children trudging their
miles to school; a three yoke ox team
dragging lazily along. The hills were
blue with masses of wild lilac; they were
like smoke from a huge fire, only no
touch of relentless flame was in sight.
Before we come to the Big Divide, we
notice the sad effects of the fire thai
burned its way through this region three
even so cheanlv as $2 a shining head.
acres of living things, it could not de-
stroy life itself. Triumphant life had al-
ready covered the black scars with a man-
tle of living green. Even the branchless
trunks of the redwoods had put on a
short, green coat of new leaves. The road
turns and twists in the usual fashion of
mountain roads, rounding and doubling
on itself, but gaining steadily towards
the summit.
Part way up the divide, we come to a
howling, roaring, fire-belching monster
that was rapidly eating up grand old trees.
This awful mill has wrought much havoc
with the beauty of the forest. But since
so many people prefer their trees in the
form of clap-board houses, it is no more
than fair that they have their choice. But
it did seem a pity to see all these magni-
ficent trees lying piled up like kindling
wood, waiting to be thrust into the jaws
of that mill. It was the only thing that
saddened us that day, but it seems as if
sadness must needs come.
With every turn and every inch gained
in height, fresh beauties were revealed.
A vast country was unveiled, a large,
lovely world, dressed in soft blues and
violets, mauves and grays.
A hawk soared high overhead, resting
on strong wings, motionless in the heav-
ens. He seemed enjoying the pure heights,
but instead, his every sense was open in
search of the carrion below.
The road over the ridge is a master-
piece, a proof of man's ability to get
over mountains if he happens to want to.
We paused for awhile, admiring the wide
stretch of beautiful world at our feet.
An abrupt turn shut out that pano-
rama, with the ocean a blue line in the
distance, but it revealed another almost
as fine, into which we began a rapid de-
scent.
From Boulder Creek to the east line of
the Big Basin is nine miles. To the Gov-
ernor's camp is three miles more, and
these last three miles are through a grand
forest, .not awe-inspiring or solemn, but
just a superb commingling of majestic
trees and dainty flowers and shrubs.
Imagine three miles of such a forest,
with the road bending and winding
wherever there was room to go without
cutting down a tree.
I was newly grateful to those wise peo-
ple who made the victorious fight to pre-
serve this particular forest from destruc-
tion.
There are thirty-eight hundred acres
in this State park, with timber of great
money value if felled, but of still greater
value if allowed to remain as a great con-
server of moisture.
The trees are mostly redwoods (sem-
pervirens), pines, tan-oaks, alders and
madrones.
I cannot say much for the beauty of
the Governor's camp, where the Guar-
dian lives during the summer. Neither
can I say enough for the beauty of the
location of it.
It is on the banks of a lovely stream of
water called Waddell's Creek. Watery
mirrors reflect the restful green of sur-
rounding trees, and the redwoods make a
rich, red path across the surface.
Moss embossed rocks, soft, leafy cur-
tains, dainty flowers, graceful ferns, com-
bine to form one of those alluring spots
people travel far to see, and after seeing
are satisfied. The driver, who loves every
inch of the place, took us down a little
trail and led us across the creek by means
of a fallen pine. We knew he had some-
thing fine in store for us, so we were
hushed into expectant silence until we
came to a gnarled, huge redwood that has
been named the "Giant."
It did not add to my admiration of
that monarch of trees to be told it was two
hundred and fifteen feet high. But I had
to listen to the figures, so I have a fancy
THEN THE OAKS, SO CURVING.
PATCHES OF SUNLIGHT GLINT IN THE SOLITUDES OF THE FOREST.
•"A LOVELY STREAM OF WATER CALLED WADDELL's CREEK/
306
OVERLAID MONTHLY.
to intrude them upon you. Perhaps they
may interest you more than they did me.
The wonder of things does not appeal to
me so much as the beauty of things; and
it was the charm of strength and endur-
ance of that grand old tree that called
forth my love. I love any kind of strength
— whether of animal, tree or man;
whether physical, mental or moral.
So I love that fine, patriarchal tree,
and would have liked to stay all day and
listen to its chant. But this was to be
a one-day visit, and time flogged me re-
lentlessly on. The driver was disappear-
ing down the trail, so we followed until
he stopped and searched our faces that he
might enjoy our pleasure at sight of the
"Father of the Forest," that the next turn
of the trail would disclose.
This tree is greater in height than the
"Giant," it being two hundred and thirty-
seven feet high. It is not so .gnarled or
twisted as the "Giant," nor does it seem
so old; but it is more shapely, and the
name, "Father of the Forest," is eminently
suitable.
It seems natural to liken venerable trees
to grand old men. It is something to
have lived through storms that try one
so terribly, but only succeed in giving
greater powers. Even the scars of a tree
add dignity, and the loss here and there
of a limb only makes for more character,
makes it different from the vast gathering
of symmetrical trees all around that have
not yet been tested in individual strength.
The "Mother of the Forest," only a
short distance away, towers above all the
others, and no one can look directly into
her eyes except the near-by "Father," un-
less, perhaps, she lowers them to notice
the multitude of giant children clustered
around her.
Most motherly this beautiful tree looks,
calm and full of queenly majesty; wise
in the world's way, and full of infinite
charity for the weak who are unable to
resist the stress of life. She is wonderful
and beautiful, and hovers over the entire
forest with watchful care.
She is not so broad-shouldered as the
"Father," but is taller, being two hundred
and ninety feet in height.
There is a peculiar old tree close by that
has been topped by the storms and black-
ened and hollowed out by fires.
Standing within the base of it, one can
look up a straight, black shaft and see
the blue sky as through a telescope. It
is named the "Chimney." There are
many trees all through this tract, that
seem absolutely perfect in symmetry, but
they are not so large as these four just
mentioned.
They are worthy of admiration, but
cannot be compared in my mind to the
rude, rugged beauty of the older trees. It
is impossible to get satisfactory pictures
of these trees, for one cannot get an un-
interrupted view of them. We can get at
the stocky, swelling base, and part of the
noble shaft, or a good view of the crown
of leaves swaying above all else. They
defy camera or artist, who desire full
length portraits. Smaller trees can be
drawn into pictures more easily.
They lend themselves as parts of a
whole, or form a straight, aspiring line
that is a fine complement to the curve of
the oaks that generally keep close by them.
Natural openings occur frequently, so
that one can see almost to the top at least.
Eedwoods are like columns, beautiful in
color and symmetry, and a redwood forest
is a wonder-wood, full of resinous fra-
grance and with a thousand varied forms
of leaf and branch. The Big Basin is a
perfect example of a Coast Eange forest.
There are the sequoias of first interest;
warm, reddish-brown shafts so stately,
with delicate, feathery green plumes to
soften the branches and make the noble
crown.
Then the oaks, so curving, with mosses
to cover rude twists; fine examples of the
power of bending and yielding to life, but
not breaking.
And delicate grey alders, so feminine in
grace.
The distinguished madrono, with red,
copper-colored or burnt sienna branches,
and polished, shapely leaves.
And there are tangles of graceful haz-
els and decorative huckleberry, a wealth
of brilliant lilies, dainty myriads of flow-
ers, delicate masses of ferns, carpets of
mosses and lichens, oxalis, ginger, salal,
3'erba buena, bed-straw, violets.
Many springs, brooks and rills singing
and ringing, sparkling and shining, tum-
bling headlong or loitering leisurely.
And for every hour of the day and
'WATERY MIRRORS REFLECT THE RESTFUL GREEN OF THE SURROUNDING TREES.
308
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
every clay of the year, a wondrous change
of mood.
Soft night, with mysterious shadows, a
robe of stars and gentle wind whispers,
noonday with brilliant whistle and song
of birds, and glitter of pine needles.
And there is the grey of an incoming
fog that shuts out some groups and re-
veals others more clearly; the grey of a
rainy day and the grey of an early morn,
all making pictures too lovely and evan-
escent to catch with mere brush and pig-
ment. One day's wandering along the
trails and brooks of this Big Basin gave
me such endless subjects for pictures that
I longed to stay for an indefinite time.
So, consulting Mr. Pilkington, the fact
was revealed that arrangements were be-
ing made for a few guests who could
choose between tightly boarded cabins,
tents or an outside mossy bed, canopied
with stars.
The Sempervirens Club has a five acre
grant, and they do much towards making
it possible for people to revel in the beau-
ties of this State park. Every season a
camp is set up and members pitch their
tents around a central dining room. In
the evening all gather round a huge camp
fire and impromptu talks are often given
on forestry, dendrology, botany, arbor-
culture, mountain climbing, art, <"'ic., by
members of the club, many of whom are
prominent in the literary and
world.
They plan new trails and roads, talk
over methods of fire protection for timber
reserves, and plot for new State forests
in different parts of California. Famous
guests from many parts of the world have
admired this big forest, and encouraged
the club in its efforts to extend forest re-
serves.
* * * *
Too much cannot be said of the use-
fulness of this reserve on the side of just
beauty — for beauty is useful beyond be-
lief. We need these "beauty reserves" in
our lives, our State, our country. Beauti-
ful forms and colors awaken the best that
is in us, quiets the worst that is in us.
Beauty makes us appreciate the majesty
of our national hymn, so that our song
starts from our hearts and goes singing
round the world and encircles the uni-
verse.
"I love thy rocks and rills,
Thy woods and templed hills,
Let music swell the breeze
And ring from all the trees."
FROM TOKIO TO KOBE
BY
CHARLES LOBRIMER
ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS.
whilt
IOKIO during the sec-
ond week of Septem-
ber was still hot as
the inside of a kettle.
The long corridors of
the Imperial Hotel,
where we stayed for
three stifling days
completing plans for the journey
Peking, were almost
across Korea to
empty — not that even in the gayest season
they are ever full for the place, except
on those rare occasions when some func-
tion is given in the musty ball-room, is al-
ways dreary and half deserted. Built on
a magnificent scale by the Japanese, of
noble proportions more suitable for a
House of Peers than a hotel, it has proved
a perfect white elephant and quietly been
allowed to deteriorate. The oppressive
grandeur of a fine entrance hall filled with
be-uniformed managers, sub-managers,
porters and bell-boys, is considerably
diminished by the dirt on these elaborate
liveries. The effect of a grand staircase
is equally spoiled by a worn and very
grimy carpet, while the beautiful dining
hall room is filled with utterly incompe-
tent, shuffling waiters, who perform their
duties so badly that fastidious guests find
it as well to wipe the crested knives and
forks on the corner of the table cloth
before using. Such inconsistencies are
typical of our little brown neighbors who
can never be made to understand up-
keep. They will sometimes plan grandi-
osely (as they have in this building),
measure out splendid rooms and fill them
with orthodox red plush furniture, with
canopied beds and shining electroliers,
but when it comes to keeping these things
in order they fail utterly.
Just at present the hotel question is a
burning one in Japan. A large part of
the country's revenue — like that of Swit-
zerland— is derived from the tourists who
flock every year in greater number to its
shores — and there is no place to put them.
At most of the famous resorts, hot springs
and "sights," there are only tiny adapted
semi- Western hotels with not more than
fifteen or twenty rooms in each, and those
neither capacious nor comfortable. Even
in the capital itself the two bisr hotels
could scarcely accommodate 300 people,
and Japan had recently to excuse herself
from receiving the members of a Tele-
graphic Convention because she could not
310
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
house them properly. Naturally, this en-
forced refusal meant not only a very con-
siderable loss to the country, but a very
great blow to her national pride as well.
A scheme for building another and a more
practical caravansary in Tokio was imme-
diately suggested, and during our stay, inn
keepers from all over the country were
assembled to discuss it. They proposed
at the same time to form themselves into
a trust, a federated league, or any other
combination which should allow them to
charge travelers a uniform and extor-
interesting at the time, as riots were
threatening. Popular indignation had
been violently aroused by the new four
sen tram fares — so violently that we
passed little groups of cavalry patrolling
the streets, and saw by the activity near
the barracks that everything was ready
to nip any disturbance in the bud. The
little affair which took place in Hibiya
Park just after the Portsmouth Peace
Conference had 'taught the authorities
a good lesson. Luckily, just when all
prospects . of harmony were tapering
tionate rate. Both plans, however, fell
through, as those concerned could neither
agree on the site of tin- proposed building
nor the price of their board and lodging.
On the morning of the 12th of Sep-
tember, all being in readiness, we collected
our bags and baggage, scrambled for
breakfast, hunted up a very sleepy Acting
Assistant Sub-Manager to pay our bill
'which was, of course, added up incor-
rectly like every bill in Japan), and
started off to catch the six o'clock express
for Kobe. Tokio was more than usually
down to a vanishing point, heavy rain
damped popular ardor, and the rowdy
element contented themselves with noth-
ing more violent than holding a meeting
and choosing a representative deputation
of jinricksha men, coolies and loafers
who were solemnly sent to examine the
books of the Electric Railway Company
and see if that institution was justified
in charging four sen. Fancy a deputa-
tion of New York newsboys and draymen
gravely insisting upon Mr. Rockefeller's
showing them the Standard Oil Co.'s
LOTUS POND FROM THE CHAIN WINDOW
books in order that they might judge if
he was justified in putting up the price
of kerosene.
A trip across Tokio in the rain even
with an occasional cavalryman by way of
variety soon becomes wearisome. The
distances seem interminable. The wide.
bare streets, which look so much wider
— and so much lonelier — for the low
houses which usually line them: the won-
derful mixture of architecture — here a
dainty bird cage of bamboo and paper,
there an ugly and ungainly building of
red or grey brick, are highly incongru-
ous. Telegraph wires and electric trams
look absurd beside crenellated moats
over-hung with gnarled pines and the
strange costumes as they pass by, the ki-
mono? topped by bowler hats, the bicy-
clists pedalling along in clogs, add to the
traveler's feeling of perplexity. The ques-
tion, "In what country and in what
century am I ?" naturally rises to his
lips.
Once at the station, the modern tri-
umphs over the antique with a perceptible
312
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
jar. "Red caps," as the porters are nl-
ways called, clustered about us, seized our
bags, turned each carefully upside down
and then started serenely for the plat-
form. At the ticket office window we
saw several new notices posted1 up. These
concerned the war taxes. Taxes in Japan
now are as thick as hairs on an Angora.
In the first place, there is the new in-
come tax and the new business tax, addi-
tional taxes on sugar, tea, tobacco and
spirits, besides taxes enough on travelers
to keep every one at home for years. We
ourselves paid a transit tax as well as an
express train tax.
Unluckily, all this expenditure did not
secure us much comfort. Other more en-
terprising passengers — earlier birds —
had arrived before us. Their bags, car-
pet, leather, rattan, and their bundles,
cloth, paper, silk, occupied at least half
the seats. Some of the travelers even had
their blankets and rugs neatly spread out
already, their air cushions blown full,
their elastic-sided boots kicked off and
placed on the floor in front of them, and
themselves stretched full length on the
seats enjoying a newspaper. We entered
the car, coughed, stumbled over the in-
evitable spittoon to attract attention. Not
the slightest result. Nobody moved.
Those exquisite Japanese manners, fam-
ous in two hemispheres, simply "were
not." They never are — we have since
been told — -in trains, which, being mod-
ern Western inventions, were not pro-
vided for in the old rules of politeness.
The best-bred Japanese in the land can
therefore indulge in the absolute selfish-
ness of squatter rights to his heart's con-
tent.
We succeeded after some difficulty in
squeezing ourselves between two yielding
carpet bags just as 'the train started.
Soon pretty scenery helped us to forget
the discomforts of rocking and rolling in-
cidental to the absurdly narrow gauge
railways of Japan. Three feet six inches
is not width enough to give steadiness to
any line, but at present the Japanese can-
not afford to relay miles of track for a
little matter of comfort. Indeed, since
the war, economy is the motto for every
department of public works, and so even
the old-fashioned carriages whose seats
run sideways and have their backs and
arms at exactly the wrong angles cannot
be replaced for some years.
With considerable trouble we screwed
around in our places sufficiently to look
out of the windows behind us at Fuji, the
Incomparable, draped in tinted vapors.
From a hundred points of view we saw
the mountain, in profile and full face —
and found each aspect lovelier than the
last. Towards noon the unbroken ter-
races of rice fields began to give place to
low patches of tea .shrubs. We were
close to Shidzuoka, an ancient and in-
teresting city, and the very center of a
thriving tea industry. It is a very im-
portant place, and the railway company
acknowledges this fact by stopping the
express there for one full round minute
— just long enough to allow passengers
to walk unjolted into the dining car.
We took advantage of this opportunity,
installed ourselves at a table with the
cleanest cloth in sight, and waited. At
first we waited patiently. No attendant
appeared. Then we waited impatiently,
with the same result. As the car was
small, but one "boy" (a nom de guerre
applied irrespective of the incumbent's
age) attended to all the guests, and he
happened at this particular time to be
engaged in painfully working up the ac-
count of a Japanese gentleman and his
daughter. In vain we beckoned, gesticu-
lated, called; in vain we fumed and
fretted, for we had all unknowingly run
up against a simple law of Japanese
society. Where servants in public places
are concerned, the foreign guests wait
for the Japanese. It does not matter if
the tip of the latter is infinitessimal as
compared to that of the former. Civility
still comes in an inverse ratio, and while
strangers are treated in a very off-hand
manner to bows nipped in the bud,
natives always receive cringing attention.
All annoyances, however, come to an
end, and we finally saw our hated rival
leave the car and ourselves treated to the
menu. It was short and quaint, leaving
us a most limited choice. There was a
table d'hote lunch (called tiffin, of course,
according to Far Eastern custom) for 40
cents; a set meal composed of three
dishes chosen by the clemency of the cook,
and then, besides, there were separate
things — a beefsteak at 10 cents, for in-
MANY WERE COME PROM FAR AWAY IN THE COUNTRY
TO CELEBRATE THIS HARVEST FESTIVAL/'
stance, cold chicken at 7 cents, sand-
wiches positively given away at 6 cents.
Apples at one cent formed the dessert. We
found the beefsteak plain and eat-
able when washed down with the Japan-
ese beer, which is so excellent and cheap,
and the cold chicken neither more nor
less tasteless than its colleagues all over
Japan.
Our scanty meal over, we returned to
our car and the pleasant surprise of seeing
our full-length neighbors astir. Thei'e
was much folding of rugs and flattening
of air cushions going on in preparation
for Nagoya, a big and important city,
with a beautiful old feudal castle, whose
golden dolphins decorated the roof we
saw quite plainly from our window.
From Nagoya the train hurried on past
Gifu, which, according to our combined
railway time table and guide, is "known
as a fisher of cormorants and also fam-
ous with earthquakes," to Otsu, a little
town on the graceful Biwa Lake. Tradi-
tion tells us that this, the most famous
piece of water in Japan, was born when
Mount Fuji rose, and it was named Biwa
because the gods had shaped it like the
old Japanese musical instrument (Biwa)
in order that the winds might play upon
it in praise of the famous mountain. The
railway guide here kindly informed us
that we were "surrounded by charming
sceneries and close to the mouth of the
famous Biwa Canal, where "innumerable
boats of the old style are plied towards
Kioto for passengers." These statements
we were obliged to take on trust, as it
was too dark to verify them.
At 7.30 p. m. the lights of Kioto be-
gan to float past the windows like dainty
fireflies singly or else in merry companies,
and five minutes later we were in a big
station bustling with directions and no-
tices, "Station Master," '"Keep to the
left," "Passengers must cross the line by
the bridge only." A great nuisance we
found this last direction. It would have
been so easy just to slip across the track
— but that would be an unconventional
proceeding calculated to strike terror into
the heart of Japanese officialdom, so we
toiled laboriously up steps, across the
overhead gangway and down steps again
with a law-abiding crowd who would
never have thought of rebelling against
even the authority of a porter.
Once outside the station, jinricksha
A SINGING GIRL OF KOBE.
men immediately pounced upon us and
whirled us away to the Yaami Hotel, the
famous old hotel on the Maruyama pleas-
ure hill. Last year the splendid main
building, the most beautiful of its kind
in Japan, was burned to the ground, but
those who know the charms and intima-
cies of Kioto life still insist upon lodging
in its cheerful annex, and nowhere else.
Who can describe Kioto, who can do
justice to the queen city of Japan, seen
as we saw it on a glorious autumn morn-
ing? The city lay stretched beneath our
windows a symphony in gold and grey
and green — gold in the sunshine and gold
in the ornaments of temple and castle
roofs — warm greys, steel greys, - bluish
greys in the roofs themselves, green in the
gnarled pines of fairy gardens. There are
a hundred things to see in Kioto, sights
to suit all tastes. Three weeks, even
six weeks, would scarcely suffice for them
all, so we who had but one day to loiter
were forced to choose very carefully, very
wisely.
After much consultation we chose the
Hungangi, a temple built bv the people
of the city from their own savings, be-
cause a matsuri or festival was in pro-
gress there. The first impression of its
vast courtyards and high-peaked roofs set
down among bright, narrow, busv streets
of brocade and rosary shops was inde-
scribable. The plain and ponderous
FROM TOKIO TO KOBE.
315
gates looked more impressive than if thoy
had been rich with carvings. The beau-
tiful natural tones of the temple timbers,
above all the enormous width of the ve-
randas and the stupendous height of
roofs — so unusual in Japan — gave to the
far awa- in the countrv to celebrate this
harvest festival. Most of them were
poor, manv of them were burned black
as the earth they toiled in. But all were
clean, happy and reverent. One after an-
other they disappeared over the edge of
THE PASSIONLESS GOLDEN BEAUTY OF THE BUDDHA IN
HIS SHRINE.
place an air of sober magnificence and
grandeur. As we entered the outer court-
yard streams of gaily-dressed people were
ascending and descending the steps.
They were come, many of them, from
the highest step into the dimness of the
temple beyond. There they seated them-
selves on the mats and prayed their pray-
ers. The children, unstrapped from thtir
mother's backs, wandered about playing
316
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
hide and seek undisturbed among them.
Even the sight of strangers like our-
selves scarcely distracted the peasants
even temporarily from their devotions.
The plaintive murmur of Namu Amida
Butsu, the clanging of a little bell, the
deep humming of a priest's voice reciting
the Sutras; the sweet, heavy smell of in-
cense, the passionless golden beauty of
the Buddha in his shrine, the happy
laughter of the children at play among the
worshipers — all made' for us a picture
never to be forgotten.
Next morning we were in the train
again and journeying for two hours past
Osaka, the Japanese Venice, a city of
queer canals and hump-backed bridges,
came to Kobe, the city which in all Japan
has the least to recommend it unless it be
that singing girls can be bought there
cheaper than elsewhere in the empire —
even so cheaply as $2 a shining head.
A CHINESE STREET SCENE.
BUCKAROO JIM
BY
HERBERT COOLIDGE
DRAWINGS BY DE LAPPE.
LD CARTNEE was
hungry, yet he sat
like a statue before
his plate of smoking
•frijoles.
"Only a steer com-
ing down to the
river," he said at last,
and resumed his eating.
But before a minute, he again became
rigid. This time he recovered himself
with a start.
"This is the lonesomest dern country
on earth," he exclaimed savagely, notic-
ing how cold his beans had become.
Gartner's cabin of cottonwood logs
seemed like a match house beside the
broad turbid river that swept ever silently
past. Ever the mighty Colorado, with
its wide-spreading, mesquite-covered bot-
tom lands, was like a lost snake track
in that unbounded waste of sand.
The old man was right. The country
was lonely. It would have seemed lonely
to a group of men. Gartner had had four-
teen days of solitary exposure.
The listening spell had become like a
curse to Gartner. He was eagerly await-
ing the next wave of sound, when a big,
well-fed cat trotted into the cabin and
began sniffing and yowling about the
room.
"Shut up, Pinto," said Gartner, impa-
tiently tossing him a -chunk of meat.
"Shut up, or I'll throw ye out."
But Pinto did not look at the meat,
nor did he shut up; he only meowed
more loudly, and rubbed against the lis-
tener's leg. Suddenly the old man's face
lighted, and he started to his feet; at
the same moment a horseman pulled up
before the door, and a laughing, hilarious
voice shouted:
"Hello, there, Gartner. What th' "
"Hullo, Smiley !" broke in the old man,
hastening out to welcome the arrival.
"Where's Buckaroo Jim?" asked Smi-
ley, returning Gartner's handshake.
"He's gone up to Yuma, but he's liable
to get back any time. Git off your horse
and come in."
"Oh, I'll do that. You couldn't keep
me away from .that grub pile with a
shot-gun," assented Smiley, airily. As
" he loosened his front cinch he stated his
errand. "We're gathering cattle, an' I
came up to see if Buckaroo couldn't come
and help us out."
Gartner's face fell.
"Well, I'll tell ye, Smiley, we ain't
wprkin' our cattle any, but — well, I sup-
pose th' boy could go, all right, but I'd
a dern sight rather you'd git some Mexi-
can to do your buckarooin'. I git lone-
some when I'm here alone, an' then I git
to listenin' — — Gartner paused, start-
led by an ear-splitting squall.
"Dern that cat !" he exclaimed. "I
step on him a dozen times a day when
Jim's gone."
"I'd think you could stand it if he
can," laughed Smiley. "What's the mat-
ter with him anyway ?" he added, noticing
' that Pinto was again meowing about the
old man's feet.
"Why, he's kickin' because Jim's gone.
I brought that cat all the way down here
from Yuma, and gave him to Jim for a
birthday present. That was when Jim
was fourteen. Pinto was the worst-wilted
kitten you ever saw when I pulled him
out of my pocket, but the kid was tickled
to death. He piled onto my buckaroo
horse, chased out into the brush and
lassed a fresh heifer and came dragging
her back into camp proud as a lion. He
kept that little cow in the corral for a
couple of months, jest so he could have
2
PINTO WAS AGAIN MEOWING SYMPATHETICALLY/
BUCKAKOO JIM.
319
milk for his kitten. Jim fooled with him
and petted him so much that the dern cat
hadn't got his growth till he began to
ran th' camp, and he's been getting worse
ever since. He makes me so mad some-
times that I feel like taking a shot at
him. When Jim's been gone about two
days, the old devil will begin to watch
that trail; then he'll come in th' house
and smell around Jim's bunk, then he'll
rub around my legs and yell. He'll keep
that up till he wears a path two inches
deep between the cabin and the mesquite,
where he sits when he's watchin'. It's-
worth a dollar, though, to see him when
Jim does git back. Pinto smells him be-
fore he's within a mile o' th' camp, and
th' way he hits the high spots down that
trail is a caution. He '
"There he goes now," shouted Smiley.
"Yi-i-i-p-ee-la, Pinto ! Look at 'im go, will
ye?" and Smiley whooped and laughed
after the manner of the Texan hilarious.
A short time later, Buckaroo Jim came
in on the run, holding the faithful Pinto
in his arms. The father's eye lighted
as the stalwart young man came in sight,
his lithe body deftly ducking and swing-
ing to avoid the overhanging~l)rush, while
his wiry little mare scrabbled violently
around the sharp turns of the trail.
"He met me clear out to the sand-hills.
He was so near winded he could hardly
waddle," said young Jim, as he placed
his pet carefully on the ground. And
Pinto, although ruffled and still panting,
rubbed proudly against his master's
"chaps."
As the men ate dinner, Smiley turned
the conversation to the latest tragedy.
"That lop-eared greaser who cooks fer
us told me that some fellers let the wind
out of his brother the other night. Did
ye hear anything about it?"
"Yes," answered Jim. "It was the old
woodchopper who lived just above the
line, on the California side of th' river.
His woman was left with six little child-
ren, and not enough flour in the house to
make a tortilla."
"Who did the killin' ?" asked Smiley.
"Two outlawed Mexicans from Ari-
zona. They came on down Into (this
country. I cut their trail several times
yesterday. They're riding shod horses,"
answered Jim.
"I guess they've heard that old man
Gartner has got some fat cattle runnin'
in this brush," said Smiley, giving Jim a
nudge and a wink.
"You can jest bet yer darn life, young
feller, that they don't pull down more
than about one o' my cattle before I chase
'em off onto your range," retorted the old
man with a warmth that seemed to meet
Smiley's expectations.
"Send 'em along, dad," he said, grin-
ning broadly. "We'll miake good citi-
zens of 'em," and he tapped his six-
shooter suggestively.
The next day bright and early the two
young cow-men saddled their mustangs
and headed south through the mesquites
for Smiley's camp. High and hot over
the desert rose the sun; all the broad
bottom lands brooded heat and stillness.
Then, after a full hour's silent riding, the
Texan" began to laugh.
"What's the matter with you?" ques-
tioned Jim, gruffly.
"Nothin', nothin' at all," averred Smi-
ley. "I wuz thinkin' how yer old cat
rolled his tail out through th' brush yes-
terday. He wuz scratchin' sand and
gravel fifty feet into the air."
"Yes, Pinto thinks a heap of me. That's
the trouble — he thinks too much of me.
He'll bore pop half to death till I git
back," said Jim.
"Why don't the old man grease him
when he rams around that a-way?" asked
Smiley.
"Aaw, give us a rest."
"No, but that's straight goods. I ain't
puttin' up any job on ye," retorted Smiley
indignantly. "When I wuz a kid, back
there in Texas, we used to have a cat that
'ud git hog wild when there wuz a storm
comin' up. When he got too onery to
live, my mother used to rub some butter
on his front legs. You'd never hear a
yupe out of him till he'd licked it off. I
used to nearly die a-la-afin' to "
"I believe that would work, Smiley,"
interrupted the buckaroo. "Wish I'd
known it before. I'll tell pop about that
when I get back, you bet."
"Sure^thing. lt'11-
"Whish-h-h !"
Jim reined in with a jerk and raised
his hand in the silence sign. There across
the trail were the fresh tracks of two
"AND PAW JIM CHARGING DOWN ON HIM."
BUCKAROO JIM.
321
ihod horses. At the same moment the
itillness was broken by the crackling of
)rush some distance to the left, followed
)y a half-choked bawling.
"They've lassed a cow," said Smiley,
ind both men spurred toward the sound,
hiding suddenly out into an open, they
:ame upon two Mexicans in the act of
>leeding a beef. Caught red-handed, the
mtlaws threw themselves behind the car-
:ass, and opened fire on the advancing
lorsemen.
"Git back to the brush," shouted Jim,
is he made his mare wheel about on her
lincl legs. As Smiley joined him behind
i clump of mesquites, he added: "Stay
)ehind your horse and keep 'em inter-
:sted. I'll go around and shoot 'em up
n the rear." Then he raced through the
)rush as only brush vaqueros can.
Smiley calmly trotted his horse back
ind forth, sending a shot at the Mexi-
cans as he passed the gaps in his brush
shelter.
The Mexicans were shooting at Smiley's
raffs and congratulating themselves on
their safe position, "when they were
startled by an exultant yell and a volley
)f shots from behind, and saw Jim charg-
.ng down on them with his bridle reins
between his teetii and a banging six-
ihooter in each hand.
With a rush the outlaws made for their
lorses. One suddenly yelled and dropped
to the ground. The other vaulted into
the saddle and cut his tying rope as if
with one motion. The next moment he
was spurring and lashing his horse off
through the brush, with Jim in hot pur-
suit, and Smiley some distance behind.
On through the brush tore the fierce
horseman. Dry branches crackled and
crashed ; thorny boughs whipped shrilly
across the rawhide "chaps" — spurs,
quirts, sand and foam flew wildly. The
Mexican sent a couple of shots over his
shoulder. Smiley was gaining ground
and whooping derisively. Jim's shirt
was nearly gone ; a thorny mesquite tore
the blood from his cheek; he thought of
the murdered wood-chopper's children,
and roweled and swung and ducked like a
madman. The mesquites were getting
thinner; pursued and pursuers dashed in-
to an opening; the six-shooters banged
and the Mexican rolled from his saddle to
the ground.
"He's your meat, Jim," shouted Smiley
triumphantly.
Buckaroo Jim made no answer then.
When they reined in their dripping
'horses he sat cheerlessly watching the
limp form of the prostrate Mexican.
"If they will murder and steal, some-
body has to do it."
Silently then they dismounted. Jim
was leading the way when the treacherous
Mexican gave a flop and fired a shot with
the rapidity of lightning, then threw his
revolver into the brush and begged for
mercy.
The Texan's face hardened. He squint-
ed along the sights of his six-shooter and
the Mexican covered his face with his
hands. Smiley's aim was good, his inten-
tions unwavering; but a sudden clutch
at his "chaps" sent the bullet into the
sand.
He dropped his gun. "Your hide's
white, Smiley; don't try to out-Greaser a
Greaser," said Jim, and fell back limply.
With a bound, Smiley was at his horse's
side, and the next moment held a gur-
gling canteen over his companion's face.
At last Jim's eyes opened. "I guess he
fixed me, Smiley. Watch that he doesn't
knife you when "
A rattle finished the sentence. As Jim
closed his eyes, Smiley saw the crimson
foam started to his lips. Suddenly Jim
gave a start. An expression of anxiety
came to his face as he struggled to speak.
Finally a fierce gulp cleared his throat.
"Tell Pop to — 'keep — Pinto — greased ;
he'll — A gush of blood choked his
utterance. Buckaroo Jim was dead.
BY JAY C. POWERS
DRAWINGS BY R.E.SNODGRASS
DE times am changed in Georg'y—
An' none am lef but me
Ob all de frien'ly faces
My eyes dey used to see,
A-settin' 'roun' de cabin,
Ez day begun to dim,
A-j'inin' sof an' mellow
In some ole gospel hymn ;
Or singin' S'wanee Eibbah,
So sweet an' sof an' low,
You couldn't he'p fum wishin'
Dah wahn't no sin no mo' ;
Or heah de han's a-patterin'
An' shufflin' ob de feet
Ez Ephrum stahts a-fiddlin'
An' Hannah leabes her seat —
De trouble went a-kitein'
Fum ouah fam-ly big
When Ephruin played de fiddle
An' Hannah done a jig.
Ah 'membahs how de couples
Come steppin' foh de cake —
(De one wif icin' trimmin's
De missus he'pd to bake) —
Dah cert'ny wuz a rumpus
When Dicy's Sid appeahs
Wif Smilin' Sue, his lady,
A-grinnin' to de yeahs ;
An' Skinny-Mose b'hin' 'um,
Wif turkey-gobbler strut,
Escortin' Mancly Etta,
'WHEN EPHRUM PLAYS DE FIDDLE."
AN HANNAH DOES A JIG.
I Who ALL de shines could cut ;
kn' Shorty-Abe an' Sallie
I Wuz shore a han'some pa'r,
NJI' Snowy-Lize wif Blacky —
I Bof BLACK ez blaskes' tar.
3ut dey wahn't in de runnin',
I Wif big nor little nig',
when Ephrum played de fiddle
I An' Hannah done a jig.
ID Souf, when lef fo'ebbah
I An' we wif angels stan'
jln dat Celestial City
I Ob God's deah promised Ian',
\n' j'in wif dem in anfums
An' sweet His praises sing,
An' shout de glad Hosannahs
Dat make all heaven ring;
An' fan de aer'al breezes,
Wif wings so pure an' white,
A-singin' hal-le-lul-jahs
In golden shim'rin' light;
An' all de choirs a-chantin',
An' all de harps a-tune,
Ez heaben's wing-ed chorus
In harmonies commune —
0 won't de eyes ob Prophets
An' eyes ob saints grow big
When Ephrum plays de fiddle
An' Hannah does a jig.
THE DES MOINES PLAN OF CITY
GOVERNMENT
BY SIDNEY J. DILLON
BECAUSE of the general political unrest among the City Governments of this
country, the following article commends itself to every thoughtful Ameri-
can citizen who is interested in clean municipal administration. The two
great curses of this nation to-day are the evil of graft and the utter extravagance of
the individual. Both these elements lead a country to its ruin and bring about
misuse of public funds. Therefore we publish this article, which is an excellent
account of a system that seeks to stem the mad race of political corruption. — ED.
3 HALL WARD politi-
cians, without busi-
ness ability, continue
to mismanage the
public affairs of
American c i t ies ?
Shall the epoil sys-
tem longer control in
appointing inefficient and untrustworthy
men to responsible positions of public
service? Shall city councils retain the
right to legislate in spite of the people's
protest, and the power to refuse laws
demanded by their constituents? In a
word, shall the immense business of the
city be given over to incapable men, ward
politicians, and corporation agents? The
"Des Moines Plan" of city Government
answers these questions with an emphatic
AW
This municipal charter, known as the
"Des Moines Plan," and recently adopted
by the electors of the Capitol City of
Iowa, bids fair to be the first solution
of these grave problems of modern city
Government in favor of the people. Its
adoption presents the most radical as
well as the most important experiment
of the age. It is in no sense the old
system with the undesirable sections
eliminated, others modified, and new fea-
tures added, but is, in fact, an entirely
new scheme, revolutionary in its charae-
ter, and distinct in its fundamental and
essential principles from all existing mu-
nicipal systems. Public men and stu-
dents of city Government have endeavored
many times to draft a system under
which we could secure a wise and honest
administration of our public affairs, but
they have tried to do so by revising the|
old system, burdened with politics ana
unadapted, as it is, for the government of
our cities. Their efforts have therefore
met only with discouragement and fail-
ure, and so, if by breaking away from es-
tablished ideas and framing a charter
along lines hitherto unknown in city GovJ
ernment, the framers of the ."Des 5loim>s
Plan" are successful in solving these gravJ
problems, it will be the greatest move ever
made in the direction of an improved ad-
ministration for our city affairs, and the
little city of Des Moines will have ren-
dered a great service to the world.
The object and aim of the "Des Moines-.
Plan" from first to last is to secure the;
maximum of efficiency in the administra-.,
tion of city affairs, and at the same timfl^
provide the greatest possible opportunity
for securing a government in accordance
with the popular will of the governed.
In order to accomplish this result, th«
authors of the system kept clearly in mind
the two great objects and attempted to
work out some practical methods whereby
these things could be secured.
A wise physician determines the nature
of the disease before he prescribes the
remedy, and so the framers of the "Des
Moines Plan" first sought to locate the
reason for the failure of the present sys-
THE DES MOINES PLAN OF CITY GOVERNMENT.
325
[em. There is an interesting story in
Biblical history about the great strength
If Samson. His enemies were powerless
against him until they discovered that
|iis strength lay in the length of his hair,
when they easily accomplished his over-
throw. Those familiar with governmen-
tal affairs ascribe the conspicuous fail-
Eire of city government in America to the
fact that politicians of mediocre ability
»nd questionable honesty have too fre-
quently managed the affairs of our cities
Ind to the further fact that the system
now in vogue was never intended for the
government of our cities and is wholly un-
kdapted to perform the functions of mu-
nicipal government. Now that these weak
features have been mentioned, it will be
nteresting to learn how the framers of
he "Des Moines Plan" have attempted
to correct the evils. In doing so they
nave departed from the beaten path at
many points, and their effort presents us
with a system unique in character, em-
bodying ideas foreign to the popular con-
keption, and representing the most ad-
jfanced thought in local self-government.
ilThe numerous committees, boards and
Departments of the old system, with their
Ronflicting and overlapping duties, have
been abolished, while the supposed ne-
tessity of keeping the executive, legisla-
tive and judicial functions of govern-
inent entirely separate was purposely for-
gotten. The complicated machinery and
[mmbersome methods of the old system
were eliminated, the number of elective
Ipfficials greatly reduced, ward lines re-
Inoved, and the people given an opportu-
jkity to elect their officials at large. All
llections have been made non-partisan,
Ind the evils of party politics in city gov-
irnment abolished. In these and in a
llcore of other ways the form of our city
Krovernment has been entirely changed.
The first aim of the framers was to
work out a simple system especially
lldapted to perform the functions of city
irovernment. Providing for the local im-
provements of a city, such as sidewalks,
Itreet pavement, and sewerage, has been
'on; id to be the greater part, and perhaps
the most important function of city gov-
»rnmont. A study of these functions of
ity government disclosed the fact that
n many respects they are identical with
the management of a large business en-
terprise, and that the duties of officials in
office are quite similar to those which de-
volve upon a board of directors. Our cor-
porations, many of which do a volume of
business much greater than that of our
larger cities, are able to secure efficient
and economic management of their affairs
by use of a system thought out by prac-
tical business men, aided by the best le-
gal talent which they could secure. Af-
ter being convinced that a municipal cor-
poration was in its nature essentially a
business proposition, and only in a limited
degree governmental, and being familiar
with the phenomenal success of our mod-
ern business concerns, the framers of the
"Des Moines Plan" thought it wise to
follow in their footsteps ; and so placed the
entire management and responsibility of
the city's administration in a governing
board consisting of a mayor and four
councilmen. Taking, then, as a basis, the
system of our large business concerns,
they have attempted to incorporate into
the new charter those salient features of
business principles which have simplified
and facilitated the successful manage-
ment of private corporations. Immedi-
ately following their election, the mem-
bers of this governing board organize,
with the mayor as chairman and elect
the subordinate officials, such as clerk,
solicitor, auditor and treasurer, just as
a directory board elects its officers, se-
lects its attorney, and employs its clerks.
Thus, by placing the business of the city
in the hands of a small responsible gov-
erning board, centralization of authority
was secured, and a long step taken in the
direction of a more efficient city govern-
ment.
Civil service is made an important fea-
ture of the law, and the remainder of
the city employees, with the exception of
unskilled labor, are appointed on ac-
count of their merit, determined by an
impartial test of fitness for the work to
be done. It is intended that the quali-
fications of the applicant rather than his
political influence or party affiliation
should control in his appointment; when
this is true, partisan politics will no
longer be the important factor in city
elections that it is to-day; political bosses
will lose their control over the offices, and
326
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
with it their power for corruption; the
temptation to create needless positions
bearing fancy salaries with which to re-
ward their supporters will vanish; effi-
ciency and economy can again be secured
and public officers will attend to the peo-
ple's business instead of spending their
time seeking to carry elections. The vast
amount of public funds thus wasted is
unknown to the patriotic tax-payer, and
can be but slightly realized when told
that in various departments of our large
cities it is estimated that the public is
paying from ten to two hundred per cent
more than the services would cost if ren-
dered by a reasonable number of men well
fitted for the position, and devoting them-
selves to their work instead of in the in-
terest of personal or party politics.
In order to simplify the system and fix
a definite responsibility for all official
acts in the conduct of the city's affairs,
its business has been divided into five
departments as follows: the department
of Public Affairs, Accounts and Finances,
Streets and Public Improvements, Pub-
lic Safety, Parks and Public Property,
and to each one of these departments is
assigned that member of the governing
board best qualified by reason of experi-
ence and ability to act as manager of that
particular work. As superintendent of
the department, he is held responsible for
the performance of those duties which
fall within his division, and is made ac-
countable to the people for its proper ad-
ministration. By thus placing upon each
of these four managers, and the mayor
as general manager, certain specified
duties, prompt and vigorous action is at
once made possible — a thing long desired
but impossible to secure under the old
system of ward representation, numerous
committees, boards and departments.
The wisdom of a compact and respon-
sible governing board for the management
of the affairs of a city will hardly need
to be demonstrated, because under such a
system the affairs of large private cor-
porations have long been conducted with
economy, efficiency and success. This fea-
ture of the "Des Moines Plan" has, how-
ever, been on trial in Galveston, Texas,
for almost six years, and it has proved so
wonderfully successful that Houston, see-
ing its superior advantages, discarded its
old ward system two years ago, and has
since been operating under a new char-
ter, embodying this feature of board man-
agement. This idea has provided Galves-
ton with a business-like administration of
its city's affairs, and its great success is
best shown by the financial reports of that
city. By careful business methods, the
credit of that bankrupt city has been
raised to par, the running expenses have
been decreased one-third, and the city,
during the first five years of its adminis-
tration under the board system, saved to
its tax payers over one million dollars.
The treasurer's reports from Houston for
the two years of its operation are even
more startling, and reveal the fact that
during that period a floating debt of
$400,000 has been paid, schools have been
built, and streets have been paved, out of
the general fund, though the tax rate
had been somewhat reduced. An inves-
tigation showed that its public affairs
are being wisely and economically man-
aged, and that the city government is
highly satisfactory. These demonstra-
tions of its working efficiency have at-
tracted the attention of our cities through-
out the United States, Ft. Worth, Dallas,
El Paso and Austin have recently made
use of the scheme, while other large cities
of Texas are favoring its early adoption.
The States of Iowa, South Dakota and
Kansas have enacted general laws for
similar charters, and one would not be
surprised to see most of the city govern-
ments of the future contain this feature
of a compact governing body.
Another startling feature of the "Des
Moines" plan of city government, and one
whicb will surely do much to improve the
public service, is the effort put forth to
change the personnel of our public offi-
cials from ward politicians to the strong
and representative men of the commu-
nity. A city office, under the old system,
was looked upon as a disgrace and re-
garded as a mark of suspicion, while un-
der the new plan the position has been
made one of honor, influence and oppor-
tunity. The business of the alderman,
under the old system, was largely the
performance of stipulated duties, while
one can hardly find a more fertile field
for the exercising of talent and original-
ity than in the development of the great
THE DES MOIRES PLAN OF CITY GOVERNMENT.
resources and enterprises of the city un-
der the new plan. Tinder the old system
the service of officials was a matter of
charity; under the new plan they are lib-
erally compensated with adequate sal-
aries. With the fixed responsibility of the
new plan, bad men will be discouraged
from holding office because they will no
longer be able to accomplish their evil
purposes, while desirable candidates will
be attracted to the service by reason of
the fact that under such a system they
can receive credit for their conscientious
efforts. Not only have they made the po-
sition attractive to the best men of the
community, but the manner of their
choice has been so provided that men
of this type can be elected with less diffi-
culty, and the election of undesirable poli-
ticians more certainly prevented. The
primary as well as the election has been
made non-partisan so that candidates can
no longer depend for their election upon
party affiliation, but must go before the
people upon their own merits. Ward lines
have been removed, and with the people
voting at large the evils of ward politics
are abolished, electors are freer to record
their choice of candidates, and the busi-
ness man is better able to secure his elec-
tion without stooping to the low practice
of the politician.
To some it may seem that a system of
government which prevents the election
of many officials, formerly selected by the
people, and centralizes the entire power
of administration in the hands of five in-
dividuals, a majority of whom may control
is monarchical and destructive of popu-
lar government. But, to these it should
be said that the degree of popular govern-
ment is determined, not by the number
of officials elected by the people, but by
the control which the people have over
their officials during their term of office.
This governing board is not vested with
final powers, and the people may, if they
so desire, vote directly upon all matters
of importance, and it is this feature, safe-
guarding popular rights as it does, which
provides the way for an expression of
popular will in all public matters of im-
portance, such as has never yet been
known in any other system of local self-
government. Notice some of these pro-
visions :
The, initiative places the power of
direct legislation in the hands of the peo-
ple, and any law which is desired by the
majority can be secured, whether it is
opposed or favored by the governing
board. Suppose that the board has re-
fused to enact a necessary ordinance. A
petition, bearing the signature of twenty-
five per cent of the voters could be pre-
sented, requesting the governing board to
ena<3t such a law, and in such a case it
must either pass the same without altera-
tion within the next twenty days, or sub-
mit the matter to a vote of the electors.
If, at the election, the ordinance is
favored by a majority, it thereby becomes
a valid law and cannot be repealed or
amended except by a similar vote of the
people. The wisdom of such a provision
is quickly realized when one thinks of the
many times when the will of the people
has been ignored by their representatives
in office.
The referendum has been greatly agi-
tated during the last .few years as a
necessary part of any complete system of
self-government, and so it has 'been made
a feature of the "Des Moines Plan." Un-
der this provision, an unwise expenditure
of the public funds or any other legisla-
tion which does not meet with popular
favor can be effectively blocked by a
majority vote of the people. If within a
stipulated time, twenty-five per cent of
the voters present a petition to the govern-
ing board, asking that objectionable legis-
lation be recalled the proposed ordinance
is thereby suspended, and does not become
operative until it has been approved by a
majority of the voters voting thereon at a
general or special election. The people
are permitted to vote upon all franchises
without petitioning the governing board,
because it is provided that no franchise
or other valuable right in the streets of
the city can be granted to any public ser-
vice corporation, without first submitting
the matter to the people, and receiving-
the approval of a majority of the elec-
tors.
Our laws must be made and our public
affairs administered by representatives
elected by the people, but that system
which limits the action of our governing
bodies by granting them the right to act,
subject to such direct and final action as
328
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
the people themselves think best to exer-
cise, is really the only system entitled to
the term representative. The initiative
and referendum, as provided for in the
"Pes Moines Plan," are the only means
for providing the people with this highest
form of representative government. Need-
ed public improvements can thus be voted
directly, and a club held over the admin-
'stration to stimulate progressive action
on their part. Fewer franchises would be
granted for inadequate compensation,
and fewer contracts would be let to favor-
ites if it were known that such ordinances
could be promptly vetoed by the people.
It would hardly pay the corrupter to
bribe the council if its action was not
final. Five thousand dollars might bribe
five councilmen, but it could not bribe
ten thousand electors. Corrupt legislation
would receive a death blow.
The Recall, designed for the purpose
of placing all officials within the absolute
control of the people, is perhaps the most
important and most startling provision of
the law. Although the officials, composing
the governing board, are elected for a
definite term of two years, yet under this
provision of the "Des Moines Plan," their
continuation in office is at all times sub-
ject to the will of a majority of the elec-
tors.
The history of practically every city
is disgraced with names of officers who
had proven unmindful of the trust im-
posed in them, but who could not be re-
moved before the expiration of their term
of office. With this provision of the char-
ter such an official could have been quick-
ly removed and replaced by one in whom
the people had more confidence. A peti-
tion, signed by twenty-five per cent of the
voters and charging the official, in general
terms, with incompetency or dishonesty,
would be filed with the city clerk. This
done, the guilty official would then, with-
out further delay, be required to stand for
re-election with any other candidate whom
the people might choose to nominate, and
the one receiving the highest number of
votes would be the officer for the remain-
der of the term. The constant danger of
being removed from office will certainly
tend to keep public officials in the straight
and narrow path of their duty, ever faith-
ful to the trust of their constituents. It
would seem that with the initiative, refer-
endum and recall, every public official can
be held to the strictest accountability, and
will seldom desert the cause of the people,
and the more successful we become in im-
pressing upon our officials the popular will
and compel them to execute that will, the
higher will be our form of Democratic
government.
The citizens of the Capitol City of Iowa
have drafted a simple plan for managing
the public business of their city. It in-
cludes a number of common sense pro-
visions, but it yet remains for them to
prove, by actual operation, >the working-
efficiency of the system. The experiment
is one of vital concern to every American
city, and they are anxiously watching the
venture, hoping that experience will prove
the "Des Moines Plan" a complete solu-
tion to the vexatious problem of city gov*
ernment.
LOVE'S AWAKING
BY
DOXALD A. FKASER
IN ANGEL came and touched my heart with living fire;
Delicious strains she drew from her celestial lyre;
And Love within me woke to dare Death in desire.
THE NEMESIS
BY
DON MARK LEMON
HE GAME was Mexi-
can, similar to poker,
except that a few
cards of lower de-
nominations had been
discarded. Neither of
the men had spoken
for some time, the
playing being carried on in pantomime,,
but now the lips of the younger man
parted, like one attempting to speak, but
failing, and he s-tared over the head of
the other into the obscurity beyond.
The elder man noted this act upon the
part of his antagonist, and half arising
from his chair, looked behind him over
his shoulder towards the door, expecting to
see something, he knew not what.
There was nothing to be seen, how-
ever, and again facing his antagonist, he
looked him questioningly in the face. But
the other offered no explanation, merely
gaped drowsily and looked down at the
cards in his hands.
The game would perhaps have gone on
in pantomime as before had not a suspi-
cion flashed into the brain of the elder
man, at which he leaped to his feet with
a Mexican oath upon his lips and a Mexi-
can word which, translated into English,
means "cheat."
"You lie !" retorted the younger man,
arising. "I thought I saw something
passing behind you."
"Liar yourself!" cried the other. "You
stared over my head to distract my atten-
tion while you stacked the cards."
"Fool !" the challenger was answered.
"Would I cheat at the game when I hold
four queens? Look you, is that a hand to
be changed? i call,' senor ?"
There was a sudden glint of steel and
the elder player crouched with one hand
spread over the stakes, while in his other
hand he gripped a heavy hunting knife.
"Caramba ! am I a fool !" he panted
fiercely.
The younger man took a step backwards
and as he did so, questioned: "Then you
will fight?"
The other made no verbal reply, but
drawing himself upright struck angrily on
his chest with his clenched hand. By this
act his breast was wholly exposed to his
antagonist, and sudden as the spring of a
rattle-snake, a needle-like dagger, the
handle of which was loaded with quick-
silver, flashed through the air and buried
itself almost to the hilt just above the
heart of the challenger.
For a moment the stricken man re-
mained upright, his powerful frame
scarcely jarred by the momentum of the
needle-like yet terrible blade; then, still
clutching his own weapon in his hand, he
fell or was tripped by his chair, face up-
ward at full length upon the floor, strik-
ing his head heavily in his fall.
With a smothered cry, the younger man
leaped forward, and tearing the candle
from the table, bent with it over the form
stretched at length upon the floor.
"Dead!" he whispered hoarsely, while
the white, still face of the man before him
— with its glassy, up-staring eyes — was
burned upon his soul, an image not soon
to be erased.
Putting down the candle now, he
clutched the two tall stacks of gold, which
he had hoped to win by less foul means
than murder, and thrust them into the
heavy buckskin bag at his belt. This
done, he again took up a light and started
for the door. But to escape that way, he
must pass the still form upon the floor,
with the dagger in its breast, so he turned
and went with the candle in his hand to
one of the windows of the room.
330
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
Unlatching this, and swinging it in-
ward on its hinges, he unbarred the heavy
wooden shutters without, and with his
head still twisted over his shoulder, and
his eyes fixed upon those other staring eyes
as if he feared that the dead would rise
up and follow him, he climbed backwards
through the window, and in another mo-
ment stood safely without, still clutching
the lighted candle in his hand.
A bright moon was up, and casting the
candle aside, he hurried swiftly and
stealthily around the tavern and unteth-
ering and mounting his horse, he rode
away, at first at a lope, afterwards at a
furious gallop, towards the north.
It was chance and not skill that con-
cealed John Fuller's flight from the tav-
ern, and pure good luck^ that set him down
across the Mexican line in American ter-
ritory, so that within two weeks he was
again able to walk the streets of San
Francisco and mingle freely with men of
his own race and persuasion.
It was not long before he fell in with a
friendly speculator, and in less than a
year — his small means daringly placed by
the latter — he awoke to find himself a
fairly rich man, with every dollar on the
safe side of account.
So it came that John Fuller was in a
good way to cease worrying about his das-
tard crime, and perhaps the memory of it
had been greatly dimmed and he had mar-
ried and settled down to live after the
ways of civilization, only one day it
chanced that while looking in his mirror
after removing his beard he was suddenly
stricken with the dreadful discovery that
his face had taken on the lines and con-
tour of the face of the man he had killed
in Old Mexico.
At first, he would not give in to this
discovery, persuading himself that the re-
semblance was wholly imaginary, but as
the days passed and the similarity became
more striking, a dreadful fear seized him
and his health began to suffer profoundly.
Murderers have been haunted with
visions of the murdered, or by what
seemed a ghost of the dead, but here was
something even more terrible — the fact
of the murderer had taken on the sem-
blance of the face of the murdered.
As a man's thoughts sooner or later are
reflected in his features, the mind of John
Fuller again and again picturing the face
of the man he had killed, had shaped his
features to almost perfect likeness with
those of his victim.
The phenomenon could hardly be ex-
plained otherwise, and now John Fuller
must walk the streets by day and lie down
to pray for sleep by night with the face
of the dead constantly before him.
To this, he was seized with a feverish
desire to spend his easy-gotten money in
the most extravagant manner. It some-
what relieved the tension of his nerves to
be spending his wealth by the thousands
each day, as it would have eased his guilty
soul to have mounted the cab of an ex-
press and have sped a mile a minute, hour
after hour. Before many weeks, he awoke
to find that through his recklessness, his
dissipation and the rascality of others, the
only money he had in the world was a
five dollar gold piece, left from a late
debauch.
He would spend this too; get rid of it
as quickly as he could. He hurried down
to a famous cafe in the heart of the city,
and entering its corridors, paused a mo-
ment before the swinging doors.
These doors were faced with long
French mirrors, and as he caught the re-
flection of his own haggard face, bearing
its ghastly resemblance to the man he had
killed, horror unnerved him, and he was
about to turn and dash headlong into the
street, when suddenly the mirrors before
him trembled, shimmered, then flashed
with wide angles of light, and out of their
center, or so it seemed, stepped that
ghastly image of himself, and stood before
him and looked into his face.
Every pulse in the haunted man's body
stood still a moment with fear, then
stealthily, silently, he reached forth a pal-
sied hand, which now came in contact, not
with the smooth surface of the mirrors,
but with the form of a man — the dead in
person !
No cry or sound escaped John Fuller's
lips, as he sank down in a heap at the feet
of that living image of himself.
They bore him into a private room of
the cafe and endeavored to restore him to
consciousness and life, but unavailing.
Like a lighted candle in a draught, John
Fuller's strength had been wasted away
by dissipation and a guilty conscience, and
THE ICEBEBG'S BIBTH.
331
the most powerful stimulants were of no
effect.
"My God, he is dead !" groaned a worn-
faced stranger, turning from the stricken
man.
The physician, the cafe proprietor, and
those others gathered about the death-bed
looked from the face of the stranger to
that of the dead.
"Yes," the stranger said, as in answer
to a question, "this must be my brother
for whom I have been searching the world
over. My parents, dying when my brother
was born, they placed me in one asylum
and my brother in another, and we grew
up without ever seeing one another —
without knowing of one another's exist-
ence. When finally I learned that some-
where in the world I had a brother living,
I went in search of him, and had almost
come upon him in Old Mexico, when a
card sharp, over a game of cards in a tav-
ern, stuck a dagger into my left lung, and
I was tripped over and rendered uncon-
scious, injuring my spine. I got a touch
of blood poisoning, and gave up the search
to come here for treatment. How it was,
I do not know, unless he had heart trou-
ble, but as I swung open the mirror doors
and came face to face with him, he fell
down dead at my feet. Great God!" the
speaker broke off, turning and gazing hag-
gardly at the face of the dead man, "how
much like me he has grown to look."
* "Will you take charge of the body?"
questioned the cafe proprietor.
"Yes, since you say he hasn't a wife or
family." The stranger turned to the phy-
sician. "Do you think, doctor, that I am
mistaken.
"His resemblance to you will warrant
you to bury him for a brother," replied the
physician.
"Poor old fellow!" groaned the
stranger, taking the dead hand of John
Fuller in his own, and stroking it gently.
"What good friends we would have
been !"
THE ICEBERG'S BIRTH
MTJIR GLACIER
BY CHARLOTTE W. THTJRSTOX
Earth-born on Alaska's mountains,
Pressed from Alaskan snow,
Ground in her icy quarries
While centuries come and go ;
Slow-urged through the lagging cycles —
Slow to my northern sea;
I am free ! I am plunging and rising
And rising and plunging — free!
I have burst from the glacier-clutches,
Leaped from the ice-walled shore —
A crash as the heaven were rended,
A long-drawn thunderous roar.
Low growls where the startled ice-bergs —
Wild splendors of iris-spray —
Dance a mad welcome round me
Muttering in Titan play.
Foam- waves, my birth hurls shoreward
A seething, wavering white,
Surge in wild radiance seaward
Fringed with auroral light.
EDWIN MARKHAM.
"I never built a song by night or day,
Of breaking ocean or of blowing whin,
But in some wondrous, unexpected way,
Like light upon a road, my Love comes in."
EDWIN MARKHAM AND HIS ART
BY
HENRY MEADE BLAND
.ILLUSTRATED WITH PORTRAITS.
OT MANY days ago, in
looking over a pack
of clippings referring
to Edwin Markham,
I found on the back
of some paper, to
which an article had
been posted, an origi-
nal rough draft of "Lincoln." There was
no mistake about the find. I rushed to
my poet's volumes and read.
Then comparing the finished product
with the spontaneous pencil-lines, I ran
through, line by line, the finished poem
and the following sketchy outline :
"When the
Greatening and
She left the heaven of heroes
To make man,
She took the tried clay
Clay warm yet
Dashed through it all a strain
Then mixed a laughter.
It was a stuff to hold against
A man that matched
The stars.
The color of the ground
The. tang and odor
The rectitude and patience
The loving kindness
The gladness of the wind
The tolerance and equity of light
That gives so freely to the wayside weed
As to a giant oak flung to the sun
ro the grave's low hill as to the Matterhorn
lhat shelters out the sky. And so he came
J<rom prairie cabin
One fair ideal led.
Forever more he burned to
With the fine stroke and gesture of a king.
He built the rail pile
Pouring his splendid strength through.
J he conscience of him
To make his deed.
So came the
And when the step
Tearing the rafters
He held the ridge pole
PS rafters of the He held his place
leid the long purpose
^eld on through blame.
And when he fell
s when a kingly cedar
^oes down with a shout
-And leaves a "
There are not many steps from these
rough notes to the finished "Lincoln, the
Man of the Hour." In fact, there is not
an erasure upon the penciled page; and
the poet must have taken another clean
sheet upon which to carry his rhythm to
perfection. We look in vain for the
many, many polishings of Pope; or the
careful gathering into a composite whole
from multitudinous note books, such as
was practiced by Emerson.
The vision apparently came at once,
and seemed ready immediately to be trans-
ferred to paper.
It must not be thought that Edwin
Markham arrived at this wonderful power
to body forth his conceptions in poetic
form, all in a moment, even in the face
of the fact that "The Man with the Hoe"
brought him fame in a night. The op-
posing truth rather stands out clear in
Markham's work and life; that many
minor attempts were essayed, and many,
many influences fashioned his intellectual
mold before the world sat up and listened.
It is true that in the poet's ancestry
there appears an unusual array of talent
— of little signification, however. It is
Dr. Jordan, I believe, who says we may all
of us trace our lineage to kings if we run
far enough back. One thing does, how-
ever loom up : Markham's widowed mother
was a poetess, and the boy, Edwin, was
raised in an atmosphere of poesy. Not
only this : his poetic mother was given to
musing, and was strangely taciturn and
silent. And further, Markham's only
brother was dumb. So the very family en-
vironment forced him into a solitude
which left him alone with his fancies.
Coming with mother and brother at the
age of five from Oregon, he began this
life of solitude and musing. This was on
the hill-circled farm not far from Suisun,
California.
Here his career as a student and reader
began. His first models in poetry were
334
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
Homer and Byron, for the instruction he
received at his mother's knee naturally
turned him to song. Moreover, the
mother's poetic instinct divined for the
son his career as a poet. All day long on
the hills, while he tended the flocks, he
mused over his favorite volumes and
drank to the dregs every fountain of story
his meagre environments afforded him.
Joaquin Miller says, in speaking of the
poet : "It is written that only a good man
can live alone, and be happy. But here
was a mere lad who lived alone with his
horse and herds for whole summers, and
far back in the mountains. It is said
that when he would come in to get sup-
plies, he would not take back much to eat,
but would pillage the mountain camp and
mining town of every book or paper he
could buy, beg or borrow/' Thus, along
with the nature-lore he garnered, he was
filling his mind with all he could get from
books. It was in this atmosphere, at the
age of fifteen, that he wrote his first verse,
"A Dream of Chaos," an imitation of
Byron.
It was in the Suisun hills that he had
his first and only taste of adventure. Tir-
ing of the mountain farm, he one day
saddled his pony and vanished down the
foothills toward the Sacramento. Not
long after he joined a threshing-crew, and
worked as one of the men. His mother,
hoAvever, soon traced her runaway son and
brought him again to the farm. She then
as a sort of disciplinary procedure, moved
with him to the State Normal School at
San Jose, where he studied teaching,
graduating in 1872. His appetite for
learning seemed to be only the more whet-
ted by his San Jose school experiences. He
soon entered the Christian College at
Santa Rosa, where he pursued the classics.
After graduation, he read law, but did not
practice at the bar.
He now began to form his philosophy of
life, and rapidly developed a deep interest
in child life and in the poor. One of his
first desires was to master a trade, for he
felt to be vitally in touch with the life of
the laborer meant to know how to do the
laborer's work, or at least some line of it.
To this end he entered a blacksmith's shop
and mastered the work, carefully drilling
himself m the technique of the craft.
Then he taught school, becoming finally
the principal of the Tompkins Training
School for Teachers, Oakland, California.
He was interested deeply in the philo-
sophical side of education, and my first
memory of his earnest face is in connection
with a discussion of interest and duty at a
California Teachers' Association.
But his love of meditation and contem-
plation never forsook him. He drifted
rapidly towards his literary ideal. Wlhile-
principal of the Tompkins School, he se-
cured a suburban residence in the Ber-
keley Hills, back of Oakland. Here, sur-
rounded by his library, rich in poetry and
philosophy, he communed with his muse.
This country home was an old-fashioned
story and a half house, surrounded with.
a broad porch over which trailed vines,
and roses. Into this retreat he went after
the hard day's work in school, and the
days went by in which he dreamed his.
philosophies.
In the meantime he was surely winning
recognition. Edmund C. Stedman, th»
famous critic, had praised his verse, and
three of his poems had been published in
"American Literature." The following
stanza on poetry:
"She comes like the husht beauty of the night*
And sees too deep for laughter,
Her touch is a vibration and a light
From worlds before and after "
won a prize of one hundred dollars from,
competitors from all over the world.
In 1889 came the experience that made
it possible for him to write the poem that
gave him international fame. This was.
not printed until ten years later, but dur-
ing all the intervening time he brooded
over his conception with an infinite fever-
ishness of soul.
The "Man with the Hoe" was printed
in January, 1899. It was first inspired
by Millet's painting of the same title.
Markham's eye had first fallen on the
picture about 1889, and at once the deep
significance of the art was upon him.
"It is more terrible to me than anything
in Dante," he says. "I sat for an hour
before the painting, and all the time the
tenor and power of the picture were grow-
ing upon me. I saw that this creation
was no mere peasant, no chance man of
the fields, but he was rather a type, a sym-
bol of the toiler brutalized through long
ages of industrial oppression." The "Man.
EDWIN MAEKHAM AND HIS ART.
335
with the Hoe" brought the poet instantly
into the flare of publicity. From paper
to paper it went, until it was known by
every fire-side in the country. He had
touched the American intellect and intel-
lect had responded true.
To Mr. Bailey Millard belongs the
redit of discovering the strength of Mr.
Markham's great poem. The poet had
originally intended to read the poem on
iome labor-day occasion, but being invited
to a gathering of literary people, at the
suggestion of Mrs. Markham he had put
the poem in his pocket to read as his con-
tribution to the evening's entertainment.
Mrs. Markham contrived to have the poet
called upon, and the reading of the har-
monious roll of the blank verse caught
the ear of the critic. Mr. Millard said
that even after the reading, the music of
the lines surged and re-surged through his
mind. The unmeasured beauty seemed to
culminate in the lines :
"What to him
Are Plato and the swing of Pleiades?
What the long reaches of the peaks of song,
The rift of dawn, the reddening of the rose?"
In "The Man with the Hoe" we catch
the first clear glimpse of Markham's
political philosophy. He stamps himself
here outright a sympathizer with the poor.
Brotherhood is his principle; absolute
democracy his ideal. Nothing short of the
full redemption of the poor can satisfy
him.
How completely he is committed to this
championship of the poor can be gleaned
from the following partial statement of
his belief:
"So, when I am dictator, every one shall
be made secure in this primary right of
man (the right to labor). I have a sug-
gestion, and I think it would go deep
enough to do some good, and yet not so
deep as to interfere, either, with our pres-
ent system of private enterprise. The
idea is a simple one. I would make dili-
gent inquiry as to the number of men idle
in the several arts and crafts; then I
would establish enough State or munici-
pal shops to absorb all of this idle labor.
Shoe-makers should be set to making and
mending ; bakers to kneading and baking.
Unskilled labor could be provided for in
State farms and factories, or on public
improvements. Good wages could be paid,
as the element of profit-making would be
rooted out, as it has already been rooted
out of the post-office business. If at any
time we were making too many good
things, the hours could be shortened so as
to keep all hands busy."
In this way, through the reaction of
self-activity upon the individual, the evo-
lution of the race could be worked out.
The poet now lives with his wife, who
was M'iss Anna E. Murphy, of California,
and his child, Kyka, on Staten Island,
New York. Both Mrs. Markham and the
boy have occupied a large place in the
poet's art ; and some of his most beautiful
lyrics have been inspired by one or the
other. The lines, "My Comrade," begin-
ning:
"I never built a song by night or day,
Of breaking ocean or of blowing whin,
But in some wondrous, unexpected way,
Like light upon a road, my Love comes in."
were written with Mrs. Markham in mind,
and the wonderful lyric, "Kyka" is a burst
inspired by the infinitely loving father of
a child. Mrs. Markham is herself a poet
and a keen judge of books; and many of
her lines have appeared in the magazines.
Her stanzas, "The Sorrowful Christ," are
among the best known.
Mr. Markham is a constant thinker on
deep questions. One of his greatest de-
lights is a round-table of friends at which
there is a delving into the mystery of
things. Charles Warren Stoddard tells of
one of these meetings on the hills near
Joaquin Miller's home on Berkeley Hills,
at which he, Ina Coolbrith, Adaline
Knapp, William Greer Harrison and the
poet were present. The subject up was,
"What is poetry?" The entire day was
passed in intellectual reverie upon the
fascinating theme.
Edwin Markham is profoundly religi-
ous. God and the immortality of the soul
are deeply woven in the fibres of his being.
These beliefs make him see the worth of
even the most insignificant human, and
give hope that he has for those who are
"dead to rapture and despair." He finds
the infinite everywhere :
"The little pool, in street or field apart,
Glosses the deep heavens and the rushing
storm ;
And into the silent depths of every heart
The eternal throws Its awful shadow-form."
Growing out of this essential religious
336
OVEELAND MONTHLY.
element is a divine humility which en-
ables him to lean unreservedly upon the
Absolute.
"I have no glory," he says, "in these
songs of mine.
"If one of them can make a brother strong,
It came down from the peaks divine,
I heard it in the Heaven of lyric song."
"The one who builds the poem into fact,
He is the rightful owner of it all:
The pale words are with God's own power
packed,
When brave souls answer to their bugle call."
and changes of time. Praise always hum-
bles me. Man is but an organ through
which the higher power acts. If a man
does good work, the joy of it is his, but
the glory is God's."
Here is the final prayer of his religious
philosophy :
"Give me the heart-touch with all that live,
And strength to speak my word;
But if that is denied me, give
The strength to live unheard."
MRS. MARKHAM AND THE SON, KYKA, WHO HAVE OCCUPIED
A LARGE PLACE IN THE POET^S ART.
When he is, therefore, talking of his
literary successes, we may know that he
will use the words in this spirit :
"In the old days, obscurity did not dis-
tress me : in these days, notoriety does not
disturb me. I have tried to build my life
upon a foundation deeper than the chances
In poetic philosophy, Markham is of
the school of Plato. The "worlds before
and after" appeal first one then the other
to his mind. Many is the time when he
turns from his more sternly human politi-
cal views to the little child, his own pro-
totype in the long ago:
BESTITUTIOX.
337
"Once. I remember, world was young;
The rills rejoiced with a silver tongue;
The field-lark sat in the wheat and sang;
The thrush's shout in the woodland rang;
The cliffs and the perilous sands afar
Were softened to mist by the morning star;
For Youth was with me (I know it now!)
And a light shown out from his wreathed brow.
He turned the fields to enchanted ground,
He touched the rains with a dreamy sound."
This is the full-voiced echo of Words-
worth's :
"There was a time when meadow, grove and
stream,
The earth and every common sight,
To me did seem
Appareled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream."
Again in "Shepherd Boy and Nereid" is
embodied the same beauty:
"Ah, once of old in some forgotten tongue,
Forgotten land, I was a shepherd boy,
And you a Nereid, a winged joy:
On through the dawn-light peaks our bodies
swung, '
And flower-soft lyrics by immortals sung
Fell from their unseen pinnacles in the air:
God looked from Heaven that hour, for you
were fair,
And I a poet, and the world was young."
This may symbolize Markham's child-
hood, or he may be reveling in that at-
mosphere of re-incarnation into which he
has recently drifted, as may well be seen
in "Virgilia" and "The Homing Heart."
Once more, in "Lost Lands," gleams the
light from other days — the days of his elf
child:
"I mind me once in boyhood when the mist
Swirled round me, ash of pearl and amethyst,
How, in an unknown, difficult, high place,
I pushed the green boughs backward from my
face,
And with a fire along the blood, a cry,
Rode out upon a headland in the sky.
*****
"I looked down on a sea of fog below;
Saw strange lands rise, strange waters furl and
flow,
Breaking on newly-lifted reefs and shores.
*****
"Where willows climbed and burst without a
sound,
While further still, on dim, untrayeled seas,
Gleamed lost Atlantis, lost Hesperides."
As he never tires ringing sweet changes
on the beautiful Wordsworthian idea of
happy, inspired childhood, so, too, he
wears with becoming grace that other
flower of the poetic intellect reincarna-
tion :
"It was ages ago in life's first wonder
I found you, Virgilia, wild sea heart,
'Twas ages ago we went asunder
Ages and worlds apart.
*****
"I will find you there where our low life
heightens^-
Where the door of the Wonder again unbars,
Where the old love lures and the old fire whitens
In the stars behind the stars."
Woven and interwoven with the "Elf-
Child" life and the reincarnation dream
is the web of his belief in the immortality
of the human spirit. And after all, is not
immortality the harp of a thousand strings
upon which the poet is to play until the
end of time?
RESTITUTION "
Across the buried years I come to you,
From out the level path by ages worn,
Be this the shrine whereat a day, new born,
Brings offerings of olive leaves and dew.
Where naught save silence all the cool air through
Creeps, healing, I — forgotten — ride and mourn;
The standard at my stirrup soiled and torn.
A Pilgrim from afar, I come to you.
NOT empty handed for, beloved, I bring
A pinion from a broken, healing wing:
And come — as you have prayed and dreamed I would
In all the fervor of true Motherhood —
With treasures from the Desert's fatal sands,
And, wistful, lay them in your trusting hands.
TEN CENTS TO THE FERR17
BY
LEO LEVY
ILLUSTRATED BY W. R. DAVENPORT.
"IT IS an ill wind
that blows nobody
good," the San Fran-
cisco street-car strike
has an awful name. It
is responsible for the
wild cry of "ten cents
to the ferry," that
reverberates hideously from early morning
to early morning, rouging people out of
deep sleep and sweet dreams to remind
them of our return to the days of stage-
coaches and "shank's mare."
For the calling of the strike demanded
a new means of conveyance for the thou-
sands of 'laborers who lived, sometimes,
miles from their work, and who dared
not patronize the cars, and walking being
out of the question, only one way was clear
— use of the horse ; and the equine remedy
was applied with the avidity that will
ever characterize the jehu.
From the depths of deserted barns
were drawn ancient vehicles, of kinds be-
yond number and description, in every
stage of must, rust and decay — Louis
Quinze barouches and antiquated deliv-
ery wagons bumped up against prairie
schooners and '49 \stage coaches; beer
wagons hob-nobbed with police patrols,
and doctors' rigs with hearses. It was
an array to tickle the palate of the relic
hunter.
Knowing well that the S. P. C. A. was
in its usual state of somnolence, pasture
lands were searched, and pounds broken
into. From these were driven what were
once called horses — a long, long time ago
were called horses.
Animal and vehicles were matched;
there was the scuffle of mounting, the
crack of whips, the curses of drivers, the
agonized squeaking of gray-haired wagons,
the weeping of animals — and the game
was on. (Oh, ye God-protector of horses,
who looked upon that scene and raised not
your hand in protest, the blood of a thou-
sand animals is on your head ! Ye ghos't
of the father of transportation, ye were
asleep at the switch ! Both ye negligents,
the groans of a suffering people will haunt
ye to the end of things, and afterwards.
"TEN CENTS TO THE FERRY."
339
And when we — you iand I — meet, my
friends, when we meet on the other side,
we're going to have an accounting, and
my wrath shall give me strength, and the
protectorship shall be vacant, and another
ghost shall roam the earth. For I have
ridden.)
And the result of this infamous con-
glomeration? One morning my friend,
the reformed cow-puncher — he reformed
backward, from punching to poetry —
staggered into the room and sank upon
the couch.
"Look here !" I said, sternly ; "I
thought you had quit all that ! What is it
"Yes."
"Then all I can say is, they're mighty
ungrateful. Fifty-three bruises, a broken
head and a sprained arm."
T was puzzled as to his meaning, but
seeing his condition, was loath to ques-
tion him. That night the mystery was
cleared up, when I found the following on
the table:
"I've busted Indian ponies in Nevada;
I've ridden bucking camels on the plain,
I've strode the goat in forty-seven lodges,
In a row-boat I have sailed the briny
main.
ALWAYS ROOM FOR ONE MORE.
thi8 time, cocktails or something sensi-
ble?"
He shook his head. "Didn't I promise
I never would again?"
"You did. But your condition —
The stricken man raised himself on" his
elbow.
"Haven't I always been a good union
man?" he demanded.
"You certainly have."
"And always paid my dues and sympa-
thized with every movement?"
These things I've done, I tell ye, and
enjoyed them,
And I've surely done 'em better than
most men.
But 1 ne'er before rode on a union wag-
gin,
And by gum, old man, I never will
again."
Two days later I encountered an ac-
quaintance. "How's your wife?" I asked
him.
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
"Not very well. She's in a hospital."
"What! Too bad, surely. And the
children?"
"Same place."
"That's hard luck. .But as long as you
are well "
"I'm. bound for the hospital now."
"Great heavens, man! What is it —
something catching ?"
"Regular pestilence. The union fines
us fifty for riding, and it's too far to
walk.""
I understood.
But to look at the thing in a serious
manner, genuine physical danger lurks in
every bolt and splinter of these strike
conveyances. Half of them are made of
old, springless delivery wagons, with
planks for seats. The constant jolt and
bang, as they rambled over cobble stones
and ruts, is bound to wear the strongest
constitution. A delicate woman can ride
but once, and her stronger sister cannot
keep it up for long. As for hard-working
men, a ride is equal to a day's labor, and
constant use of the wagons results in a
condition which is not conducive to good
work.
To increase the discomfort, the drivers,
who once must have worked in a sardine
cannery, have an unhappy faculty of find-
ing room for passengers where none exists.
In their own language — and they think it
is a tremendous joke to sing it out —
"there is always room for one more." If
there isn't, they make it. The capacity
of the smaller vehicles is far greater than
that of the larger. A laundry wagon al-
ways carries twice as much human freight
within its canvassed depths, as does a
great made-over furniture van. That
may sound like exaggeration, but prove
it for yourself by watching the stream of
conveyances. Or, better still, ride.
And the horses — well, there is some-
thing else San Francisco has to blush for.
The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty
to Animals has a stain on its name that
will take years to efface, and there are
people who will never forget. That
society, composed of people who are sup-
posed to be the friends of animals, has
allowed the fearful use of unfit horses,
and abuse of good ones, to go on without
scarcely a protest. Now and then there is
an arrest, but only now and then. In the
meantime, the real friends of the animals
must stand by and wonder why broken-
down horses, scarcely able to crawl, are
allowed to singly drag heavily loaded
wagons; why weak and worn-out horses
are allowed to stumble along in an almost
vain attempt to get their loads over the
poorest streets in the world; why diseased
horses are allowed to work at all. San
Francisco already has a long list of moral
and physical delinquents, but there is al-
ways room for one more.
Not long ago I stood in front of the
Ferry building, deliberating as to the
agent I would employ to inflict torture
on my ride to the Mission. There was
wide room for choice — all sizes of ice-
wagons, deliveries and 'busses; a covered
express and a dead wagon. One convey-
ance, especially, deserves special mention.
It had an arrangement for strap-hangers,
operated thus : when the entire lengths of
the seats were filled, the knees of the pas-
sengers meet in the middle, making a
sort of carpeted floor. On this stood the
strap-hangers, clinging to an iron bar
overhead.
After long thought, I selected a small
and decidedly frail express, figuring that
on account of its size and strength, care
would be taken not to put too great a
crowd on board. I was sadly mistaken —
but of that anon.
I mounted. I did it carefully. Mount-
ing a strike wagon is a serious matter, and
may involve physical complications unless
much care is taken in the operation. You
mount by means of either a suspicious-
looking set of .steps, a cracker-box or a
chair. Sometimes you vault in. On this
occasion I used what resembled a young
step-ladder, and I accomplished my end
without mishap.
There was a young lady on board. I
took my place at her side, a respectful dis-
tance away, and — but, what's the use of
dwelling on the loading of that wagon?
Suffice it to say that I was mistaken as to
the driver's regard for the strength and
size of his vehicle. He had no more re-
spect for those than he did for his horse
and his passengers. Also suffice it to re-
mark that my respectful distance from
the young lady soon grew to be highly im-
proper. Before five minutes had been
reeled off by Time, I was squeezing her
N CENTS TO THE FERRY."
341
hard, and so great was the crush that the
sides of my wind-pipe touched, and I
couldn't ask her pardon.
So there I sat, squeezed into the small-
est compass possible, my hands awkward-
ly on my knees, an agonized expression
covering im^ identity, and a pressing en-
gagement at both ends of the ride, await-
ing the driver's inclination as to starting.
The driver did not incline. He was in no
hurry because his passengers were. That's
part of the law of supply and demand,
in which law a union man always seems
to have a finger. As I said, there I sat.
Finally, when the driver had finished
his cigarette, and the conductor his chat
with a neighbor, they inclined. But, alas,
somebody else didn't. The horse looked
Have you ever ridden a heavily-loaded
wagon over block after block of cobble-
stones? There is no other sensation that
compares with it unless it is a train-wreck,
an electric massage, or a series of infant
earthquakes. Your in'ards reel, and your
teeth do a castanet solo :
"They chatter, chatter, chatter so —
("Again," you murmur, "Never!")
For streets may come and streets may go,
But cobble-stones forever!"
At the end of the third block the horse
stopped to get up steam, and the conduc-
tor grasped the opportunity to take on
three more passengers — at least, I suppose
AX ARRAY TO TICKLE THE PALATE OF THE RELIC HUNTER.
around at what he was expected to pull,
gazed at the driver with a "what-d'ye-
take-me-for" expression on his face, and
yawned. JSTo amount of corporal persua-
sion could convince him that he was in
the wrong. He absolutely refused to sup-
ply the motive power demanded — the law
again.
I'm not going to tell you how they fin-
ally got ihe poor beast headed Mission-
ward. I'm too much of a gentleman to
repeat the language, and anyway, the edi-
tor wouldn't allow it. When we turned
into Mission street we were going at a
fair rate — very fair for one horse and
thirty-one people.
he did ; not being able to turn one way or
the other I couldn't see, but judging by
the increased pressure he must have.
And thus it continued, cobble-stones
and ruts alternating with the taking on
of "just one more," reducing corpulence,
making short people tall, and tall people
taller.
Just one word or so more about that
ride: In the future I'll take an ambulance
in the first place, and not wait until I
get to my destination.
I am no longer a union sympathizer,
though it wasn't the above turned me.
Far from it. I have a still deeper grudge,
one that I will never be able to forget. It
342
OVEELAND MONTHLY.
has turned me sour against all unions.
Another ride that I took, one midnight,
on an owl 'bus was responsible. I had
three inches on the end of the seat, but
thought that by bracing my foot on the
steps I would be able to hold on. When
I found out I couldn't, I gently but firmly
put an idle arm around a girl who sat
next me — it was the last resort.
Did she object? Not a whit. Then
where is my kick, you ask?
You should have seen the girl.
DRAWINGS BY SCHAD.
MBKO-SAN sat watch-
ing her husband, Ki-
yowara Taro, mend-
ing a boy's shoe. Her
child-like face gave
forth no sign of the
discontent in her
mind — certain at the
lightest suggestion to break forth into
petulant speech.
"Why you sitting like a bloke of wood ?"
she asked tauntingly. "I hate staying all
times with a Jap-an-ese cload !"
After a sigh of extreme weariness, Ki-
yowara looked up.
"You making too maeny complaints,"
he answered. "I don' cahn please you. I
speak English language for your sake! I
taell maeny times thaht som' day — mebbe
five year, mebbe ten — we go bahk aht
Hamamatsu ! Ah !" A tumult of emo-
tional remembrance sent a dark red glow
into his melancholy face. He lumbered
to his feet ; he crossed and re-crossed the
dingy shop, warming to enthusiasm.
"Then we see grand temples and Fujisan
with her beau-ti-ful snow-cahp — and
aeverywhere cherry-flower and wild lillee !
Ah!"
"Mebbe I sleeping in my grave by thaht
time," she answered coolly. Then, with
alacrity, her voice and manner became im-
bued with a business-like purpose. "I
naever going bahk aht Jap-an. I stay aht
United States foraever and aever !"
Kiyowara again took his place on the
bench. The woman followed him with
short, waddling steps, pulling at her plum
colored kimona with disgust.
"I don' want wear Jap-an-ese clo'se.
Jap-an-ese woman's dress or-na-men-tal,
but no-boad-y cahn work ac-tive-ly in it."
There was a faint smile on the shoe-
maker's face.
Umeko-San's eyes snapped angrily;
they were as black as shoe-buttons. "You
think I going slave aht your house all
day? Taro-San, I naever cook for you
aeny more Jap-an-ese style. When you
say you like United States cooking, I do
aeverything very fine." Here she shook
her head with a comically wise air.
Kiyowara stitched in silence. He found
himself in the ridiculous predicament of
attempting to put a thread through a solid
piece of leather.
Umeko-San shifted her position that she
might look through the window. The
seven o'clock local train was passing. She
saw in the lighted car a Japanese girl
dressed after the style of the fashionable
American girl. The sight of a red hat
flaring away from a large moon-like face
smote the soul of Umeko-San cruelly. It
brought home to her with telling force
the poverty of her own equipment for per-
sonal fascination.
"How thaht girl mus' be happy dress
like Ah-merican peoples ! How thaht is
bahd to 'be diffren' from other peoples!"
she muttered. Then she looked daggers
at Kiyowara, whose introspective counte-
nance wore a look of patient endurance.
"Las' night I ask you," she said, crossly,
"if you take me aht Mr. Buck-ing-ham's
Jap-an-ese tea garden. You say you don'
cahn know — I say yo mus' taell me — will
you take me aht thaht Jap-an-ese tea gar-
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
UMEKO-SAN.
den? Will you?" She seated herself on
a packing case in front of Kiyowara, the
embodiment of infantile, thwarted desire.
He looked at her helplessly. "Aevery
time you go with beeg Ah-merican crowd
you hov no more lov' for home — you not
wanting learn be skillful an' exper'enced.
By-and-bye we go aht thaht poor-house/'
The shoe-maker frowned so ominously
that TJmeko-San set the packing case a
few feet back, then crawled upon it again.
A smile began to play about her lips.
"But to-night only Jap-an-ese invited aht
thaht tea garden. No Ah-merican peo-
ples come." She held her small, shapely
hands up, moving them forward as though
pushing back an objectionable crowd.
Then she leaned towards him, smiling co-
quettishly. "You take me aht thaht lovely
place?"
"You know what I taell all times." He
spoke in a sad tone of voice. "Most all
United States Jap-an-ese — they are no
more Jap-an-ese.' ' He half rose from his
seat to brandish with fierce disapproval
the shoe he was mending.
Umeko-San's eyes were alive with ad-
miration and defiance when she answered:
"They have good sense. They all times
adoapting Ah-merican costoms — they all
times wearing Ah-merican clo'es — they all
times cotching Ah-merican ideas !"
If Kiyowara's prolonged groan signified
the measure of his contempt for Ameri-
can customs and dress and ideas, then it is
not surprising that Umeko-San should
have made such amazing haste to say with
impressive emphasis:
"Ah-merican peoples have the most
beautifullest costoms, an' clo'es and ideas
in the world ! Say ! Will you take me aht
thaht tea-garden — 'mong all those, our
co'ntrymen from Jap-an ?"
"You cahn go with Hana-San," he
said, holding his head up stiffly. "I don'
care — I will work hard aht Mr. Adam
shoes."
TJmeko-San laughed gaily as she scram-
bled to the floor. "You not so very bahd,"
she was pulling the door of the shop to af-
ter her, "not — so — very — bahd for a per-
son that will naever lov' the co'ntry of his
adoaption."
The tea-garden in the handsome private
grounds sloped down to the lake. It was
lighted by hundreds of gaudily-colored
electric lights. Here was scenic entrance-
ment never to be forgotten by Umeko-San.
How delightful to watch her transplanted
countrymen ! They were pacing back and
"UMEKO SAN."
34;
forth along the exceedingly narrow paths;
crossing doll-like bridges, and climbing
miniature steps cut in tiny mountains of
rock. But what pleased her most was to
note how aggressively Americanized they
had become. Ah ! These were the new
kind of people — Japanese still — but a
hundred years in advance of the old-fash-
ioned type. The very walk of these little
men and women was a reproach to the old
slow-going order of things.
After she and her friend and her
friend's two small children had strolled
into every nook and cranny, large enough
for a foothold, they took seats on a bench
which circled a warped, crooked old cy-
press tree. A half dozen paper lanterns
dangled above their heads set in motion by
a gentle breeze from the lake.
Umeko-San made a picture which fitted
into her surroundings as perfectly as the
dwarf pine tree growing in the blue vase
at the other side of the path. She was as
dainty in her peach-colored costume with
its salmon obi as some bit of art work
on a painted fan. Her face was lit up
with childish pleasure; and a soft blur of
red paint on her cheeks and lips made her
eyes blacker and brighter even than nature
had made them.
"There is my hosban's friend, Satsu-
moto-San," Hana-San said, "that one so
extra neat. How you do to-night?"
A young Japanese as trig as a brand-
new yacht stepped aside and lifted his hat
in a brisk manner. He wore a short sack
coat of light tweed; trousers wide at the
hip*, and an infinitessimal tie. From his
In-cast pocket the ends of three enormous
cigars protruded.
Hana-San motioned to a seat between
her and TJmeko-San. The young man
bustled into it with a self-centered and im-
portant air. Then for a few seconds he
gn/cd with open admiration through his
glasses at Umeko-San.
"Have you ladies been aht thaht tea-
house ?" he inquired. "Permeet me escort
you there."
He rose .to lead the way. The party
filed across a bamboo bridge which curved
upward like a section of a wheel. The
sharp sound of trickling water could be
hoard through the confused patter and
thud of feet on the gravel paths beyond.
"How thaht tea-house is pretty !" Ume-
"nOW THAHT GIRL MUS' BE HAPPY,
DRESS LIKE AH-MERICAN PEOPLES."
ko-San exclaimed with enthusiasm. En-
tering the bamboo pavilion, the man and
women seated themselves on bamboo
benches. The children ran towards a
346
OVERLAID MONTHLY.
large circular opening in the earth wall
forming one side of the tea-house. This
opening was the mouth of a metallic-lined
shaft. Suddenly the air of "The Star-
Spangled Banner" was heard, evidently
coming from some distant music-box. The
children laughed with delight.
" 'Tis the star-spangled banner ; oh, long
may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of
the brave!"
b
Satsumoto quoted solemnly. He waved
his right arm aloft as he had often seen
street orators do in the City Hall square.
Hana-San laughed softly. The words
lagged so far behind the music !
"I lov' the co'ntry of my adoption for
maeny reasons," he said, addressing him-
self to the attentive and eloquent eyes of
Umeko-San, "for very maeny reasons, but
chiefly because aevery-boady has so moch
freedom. The gov-er'-ment an' the laws
are moadern an' full of the spirit of jos-
tice."
The light, tinkling musical notes had
died away; and with their cessation the
children ran, one pursuing the other, out
of the tea-house. Hana-San followed them
with awkward haste. The sound of foot-
steps was lost after the mother and child-
ren had crossed the bamboo bridge.
"Have you lived -aht United States
loang time ?" ITineko-San asked bashfully.
"For several years. I lov' the spirit of
the peoples. They naever get in the rut
like con-serv-a-tive peoples must, an' do.
They deal fairly an' squarely with aevery
wan — man an' woman alike. The test of
civi'zation aevery wan knows is the status
of woman."
Umeko-San pitied herself almost to the
point of tears as a mental vision of her
daily life rose to float before her bewil-
dered eyes. What had she to expect from
the colorless level of days that lay
stretched out before her? They were
certain to be as empty of interest as a
field of sand.
Satsumoto pursued his subject with a
grandiloquent air :
"Take the in-fer'-ority of our Jap-an-
ese eostoms. Whata sahd fate awaits the
widow — no sweet con-so-la-tion for her —
aevery thing is for the mon — he may even
di-vorce an' morry with another at h
wheem an' fancy. Thaht is a most on-
jos' state of affairs — most onjost." E
shook his head so severely that his glasses
fell dangling against his polka-dotted tan
waist-coat. He took them up delicately
and set them close .to his brightly gleam-
ing eyes.
"But in this co'ntry," he resumed with
dignity and a slightly embarrassed air,
"woman's con-di-tion is the 'best in all
the world. She has the same rights — she
cahn di-vorce him — he cahn di-vorce her
— mon an' woman, if you please excuse
my liddle joke, cahn change pardners!"
He was delighted with the soft gurgle
of her laughter; quite charmed at her
quick appreciation of wit. She, for her
part, had seized upon a truth in the jest
which harmonized with the drift of her
desires, and she laughed because of an
impulse which brought color and warmth
to her face. To her childish imagination
there appeared a rift of golden hope in
the sombre gray cloud of her life.
Down through the shaft came the
music, faint and metallic, of "Under the
Bamboo Tree." To Umeko-San it com-
municated a joyous gayety, which made
her spring up to welcome Hana-San and
the children with an excess of cordiality
that Hana-San noted with a cold reserve.
She received it with a laugh that was
more than half sarcasm. Umeko-San, all
unconscious, took the droll baby girl by
both hands and swung her round and
round until the child fell to the ground,
laughing hysterically.
Hana-San dragged her to her feet.
"Why I should stay here? I going
home now."
Satsumoto rose with much -show of
ceremonious politeness. He led the way
back into the garden. The little group
crept along, each picking his steps care-
fully by the edge of a bank of wet plants,
which wound about a pond. The pleas-
ure seekers halted a moment by a bronze
stork with a sapphire light in his long
beak. Two of the party gazed with de-
light at the fairyland about them. The
air had grown chilly. Umeko-San felt
the pin-pricks on her face, which she
knew was the fog rolling in from the
Pacific. She followed admiringly in the
wake of Satsumoto, noting that he walked
"UMEKO SAN."
347
rith the air and carriage of an Ameri-
an.
She whispered to herself, "He is a per-
ect gen-tle-man."
And this thought occurred to her again
hen several blocks beyond the tea-gar-
en, he assisted the others onto the elec-
ric car, standing for a moment on the
;ep to pay their fares. There he raised
is hat to them with a gesture of defer-
ntial respect more than Oriental. In
is parting look was a tenderness too par-
ially directed to arouse any enthusiasm
n the 'breast of Hana-San.
A few weeks later, Kiyowara was clean-
ng a lamp chimney. His thoughts were
gloomy and disconcerting. Did not
jUmeko-San waste all her days with her
t'riend, Hana-San? Was she not always
ill at ease in his presence now; and al-
Iways inventing some absurd subterfuge
|to escape it? She was in the habit of
leaving the shop with a merry smile, and
coming back to it with strangely dis-
tracted eyes. It was embittering to reflect
that every minute spent with him was ob-
viously so much time thrown away.
His fingers shook when he replaced the
lamp chimney. And they were still trem-
bling as he walked to the door and looked
miserably into the street. Through the
glass he saw, with a gasp, Umeko-San —
little 4-foot-8 Umeko-San — coming to-
wards him. Her dress and walk were an
imitation of those of the American girl.
A large white hat at the side of which
curved a long white plume, was set back
on her enormous head. The swaying of
her body as she walked staggered him
with its audacity. Could it be some
necessary adjunct to her bewildering cos-
tume?
The little Japanese came into the shop
and quickly settled herself in a chair.
She looked about her with discontented
eyes ; very much as a stranger, out of con-
genial environment, might have done.
Her husband shambled before her,
mystified and sad.
"You borrow of Hana-San," he said
gloomily. "You spen' too moch time aht
her house. Very bahd in-flu-ence upon
you."
"This et-a-mine dress," she raised her
black brows. "I buy this secon'-hond.
My friend, Hana-San, loan five dollars
an' six bits. You all times wishing me
go too slow a pace." She pursed up her
full crimson lips, feigning indifference to
the bit of American slang so aptly
launched.
There was an intense curiosity in his
eyes as he stared at her. "I do what I
cahn for my wife — by-an'-bye I hov
money mebbe to buy expaensive Ah—
merican clo'es."
"By-an'-bye I be dead," she replied,
coldly.
"Som' day we travel liddle, mebbe. To-
gaether we go aht Jap-an an' stay wan
year."
Umeko-San shook her head from side
to side. "I do not wish. I naever want
go 'way from this place."
Taro San passed his hand across his
forehead as though smoothing out some
wrinkle of perplexity.
"Only three years in this co'ntry an'
now you hate the life like we hahd bahk
aht Jap-an. Your poor head is full of
fool-ish-ness."
They were silent for awhile. The only
sound in the shop came from the scam-
pering of mice in the walls. A rustling of
falling plastering brought Umeko-San
back to the realities.
"A beau-ti-ful place this is to live aht,"
she said, witheringly.
/'I am very glahd to move aht aeny
day," he answered her. He seated him-
self and began to sharpen a small tool on
a leather strap.
"I got go 'way," she announced slowly.
The pulse of her heart throbbed wildly.
It took a courageous effort for her to
keep her face lifted.
"I naever coming bahk aht this place."
The tool dropped from Taro-San's
hand and clattered on the floor. He sat
stunned, his eyes downcast for a brief
moment. Then he glanced across at his
gaudy little wife.
"We don't belong togaether," she went
on with unconscious cruelty. She kept
looking at her hands, gloved in white kid.
"Two diff'ren' natures cahn never pull
the same way. We were born diff'ren'."
She looked steadily into her husband's
eyes for some comprehensive sign.
"Aeverywhere live lots of peoples which
suit you," her voice was becoming soft
and soothing. "Plenty more fish in the
348
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
sea," now she showed her teeth in a daz-
zling smile, "moch more nize fish than
me !"
Umeko-San began to laugh, but noting
the effect of her words, her laugh ended
abruptly in an uneasy catch of the breath.
"Where you going?" Taro San inquired
quite roughly.
She moved forward in her chair so that
one foot could rest comfortably on the
floor.
"I stay all times with Hana-San when
we wait on those de-cree. But you must
have get those di-vorce!"
Taro-San's face slowly turned to an
ashy gray. His large eyes gleamed un-
cannily.
"Who taell you say so !" Fierce anger
rose up within him against some unknown
person or force, whose identity he felt that
he must establish at once.
"No one of us hos aeny cause," Kiyo-
wara continued.
Umeko-San got up hurriedly and scut-
tled across to her husband. She fell into
the despised gait she had lately been try-
ing to forget. She bent forward to touch
him on one of his stiffly folded arms.
"You hov got som' cause !" she said, ex-
citedly.
"How you talking!"
The woman's eyes flashed with intense
interest.
"Cruelty ! I am cruelty when I talk
this way !"
"Say ! What you meaning ?" he broke
out fiercely. Then his face became dully
apathetic.
As for the little Japanese woman, she
soon left the shop to return to the lodg-
ings of Hana-San. And out on the street
she again adopted the American style of
walking with as imitative a step as her
foreign feet would permit.
# * * *
A year had gone by. The winter rains
had become almost a constant downpour.
Sometimes in the night Kiyowara listened
to the water as it swished against the calla
stalks in the yard. It drove against them
with a hissing sound. A little stream
fell with a constant drip, drip from the
crack across the lopped limb of the de-
crepit live oak. To-night people were
hurrying past the shop window, holding
umbrellas low over their heads. The
water burst in a gray fringe along the
edge of the low wooden awning; and just
above one slender supporting rod a broad
jet of water spurted out through a break
in the spout. The local train was flying
by, its windows a dull, misty blur of
washed out red. The rain came down
faster and faster, beating a wild tempo on
the awning roof. As a wagon enveloped
in black oil-cloth drove hurriedly along
the street, scattering the mud, the rain
seemed in a mad slanting flurry to keep
pace.
The door opened. In the wake of a
draught of cold air Umeko-San, haggard
and with stringy hair, dragged herself in-
to the shop. Under her eyes, whose lids
were red and swollen, were dark shadows.
Pain and trembling irresolution about her
lips seemed to threaten a paroxysm of
weeping.
There was no exchange of greeting be-
tween the two. They stood in embar-
rassed, bashful silence until the woman
spoke.
"I been in so moch sorrow since I
marry with Satsumoto-San. You don'
cahn know how moch trouble I been in."
She held out her arms appealingly.
"I became sick," she went on, "very
low." She searched his face eagerly for
some gleam of familiar tender interest.
"Maeny times I been hongry."
The scowl of Umeko-San's face might
be at the recollection of days when she
went supperless to bed ; or at the mere im-
personal kindness in her former husband's
face, which had not the warmth she used
to find there at the narration of the least
of her personal affairs.
"You don' cahn know what I suffer
from him. I hate him very moch. You
thinking I hov the right to do thaht?"
The pleading in her voice touched him.
He said in a serious tone :
"Aevery wan in this world hov maeny
troubles. An' maeny womans hov loads
too haevy for small bahks to corry."
She laughed with something of the glee
of a happy child ; yet there was a hint of
tears through the laughter.
"Now you talk Jos' like before I go
'way. I taell Satsumoto-San aevery day
that Taro-San very first-class hosban'."
She smiled up into his face for apprecia-
tion of the high compliment. Her smile
"UMEKO SAN."
349
slowly faded into a piteous, disappointed
gravity. His face was irresponsive in its
serious gloom.
She looked about the room.
"You fix up som' sence I gone away —
painted new — aeverything clean — very
nize." She pushed her wet hair back with
both hands. And sighing wearily, she
found a camp stool. Kiyowara seated
himself near her.
"Flowers in the yellow vaze !" Umeko-
San exclaimed. There was a touch of
gayety in her voice and manner. "Stur-
sheums ! I lov' thot reech coalor — som'
costomer bring those?"
A dark red glowed in the man's face
before he grew paler than usual.
"A frien' give to me," he answered.
The woman looked sharply at the man.
"You mus' like to go out 'mong other
peoples now — you change in thaht man-
ner. Is thaht so?"
The flush in the man's face deepened.
He looked out through the window. The
rain was still pouring; the pedestrians
were still draggling through it. Umeko-
San's pensive gaze followed his.
"Very bahd night to be out in. I get
chill to the bones coming here. Liddle
fire would be good idea." She turned to-
wards a very small cooking stove — it re-
sembled a toy stove; and stood black and
cheerless against the rear wall. "I been
shiver all this winter — my hands naever
get warm aeny more."
The man rose with awkward slowness.
"I will make liddle fire if you say."
"Do thaht," she exclaimed, holding out
her small hands, now not so well covered
with firm, pale brown flesh as they had
been. He did not take them. "And then
by-an'-bye I do liddle cooking for Jos' us
two. An' mebbe," a tentative coquetry lit
up her countenance, "by-an'-bye I come
bahk an' stay here foraever."
The shoemaker went slowly out of the
room without replying. When he returned
he carried a box filled with kindling and
sawed redwood logs. He put the wood
into the stove too slowly for Umeko-San;
so she made a dash for the sticks in his
arm, saying:
"You go 'way — mon cahn naever do
these domestic things. I build thaht fire
an' cook supper Jap-an-ese fashion" —
she laid her hand on his arm — "aevery-
thing Jap-an-ese — rize cake an' fish — Oh,
you don' cahn lay those sticks right fash-
ion. Here ! Let me do thaht."
She made the fire ready to light with a
quickness very astonishing in her. The
man was gazing down at her when she
turned her eyes up to his face, reaching
for the match he held. She was trem-
bling with a new-found happiness. Then
her glance went up to his face.
"Oh !" She drew her breath in with
a gasp. With an intuition as quick as the
flash of a bird's wing she understood, and
her childish joy was changed at once
to a woman's sorrow.
"You not wan' me stay foraever. You
got 'nother liddle ' Jap-an-ese girl — is
thaht so?"
He nodded his head in a mournful
manner, not looking at her.
She slowly gathered up her wet um-
brella from the floor. Then, without a
backward glance, she went out into the
street, where the cold rain was falling in
heavy sheets. It was mingling its whitish
gray blur with a rolling bank of fog.
THE FRONT ARCADE AS YOU EXTER THE MISSION Uril.DI N(i 1-KO.M THE
STREET. AND A WELL-KXOWX MOXK IX WAIT1XG.
THE SANTA BARBARA MISSION
BY
SAMUEL :NTEWSOM
ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS.
Much lias been written of the old Missions of California, and ordinarily we would
approach the subject timidly. However, the following article treats of one of Cali-
fornia's wonderful features in a new way. Of the outside world,, none had ever
before entered the sacred garden of the monks until Mr. Newsom was accorded per-
mixxion to study its beauty. Mr. Newsom, the author, an architect of attainments,
is tlie first man who has been able to examine minutely the' structure of the Mission,
nini Jiis account will be therefore of great value to all interested in this famous
landmark of our early history. — EDITOR.
EMOVE not the ancient
landmark which thy
fathers have set. —
Prov. 22:28.
There are no rec-
ords that I know of
that show the arrange-
ment or ground plan
of our California missions. During a va-
cation spent in Santa Barbara, three years
ago, I thought it would be well to make a
ground plan of the Santa Barbara Mission
— it being in a better condition than any
of the others. It would show more clearly
the arrangement not only of it, but of all
the others, as they all are built round a
hollow square. This is readily seen from
the ruins. The rough work of these mis-
sions was done by Indians, under the
direction of the Franciscan monks. The.
more finished carving, done in yellow
stone, was undoubtedly done by skilled
workmen, I think from Spain.
The first site of the Santa Barbara Mis-
sion was chosen on April 1, 1782, by Fr.
Junipero Serra. Work was at once begun
under an Indian chief, Tanonalit — who
had authority over thirteen rancherias —
who built a chapel, priest's house, store
house, barracks and palisade enclosure. In
1789, on a new site, a second church was
built, 25x90 feet, and roofed with tile, the
first building being taken down. A third
edifice was finished in 1794, measuring
27x135 feet, with a sacristy 15x27 feet. A
brick porch was added in 1795. The or-
chard wall enclosure and nineteen adobe
houses, with tile roofs, were built in 1798.
In 1800, thirty-two more houses were
built. In 180l"and 1802 there was a total
of 113 adobe houses for the Indians to
dwell in. From 1803 to 1807, 139 addi-
tional were added. In 1802 there were
1092 Indians, who lived at the mission,
which owned 2100 head of cattle, 9,082
sheep, 215 horses, 427 mares and foals,
and 8 mules. In 1803, 1792 Indians lived
at the mission, the greatest number who
were ever given shelter there.
In December, 1802, earthquakes dam-
aged the buildings, and the church was
taken down, as being beyond repair. In
1815 the present stone church was begun.
It was finished in 1820, and dedicated in
September, 1820.
The Superiors of the Old Mssion at
Santa Barbara were as follows:
*Fr. Antonio Paterna 1786 to 1793
Fr. Cristobel Gramas 1786 to 1790
Fr. Jose de Miguel 1790 to 1798
*Fr. Estavan Tapis 1793 to 1806
(He became superior to all the missions
in 1803.)
Fr. Juan Lope Cortes 1798 to 1805
*Fr. Marcos Amestoy 1804 to 1814
Fr. Marios de Victoria. . .1805 to 1806
Fr. Jose Urresti. . ,..1805 to 1808
SKETCH OF ANTONIO REPOLI/S FOUNTAIN, FROM AN OLD PHOTO BY W ATKINS, BY
SAMUEL NEWSOM. THIS IS FROM THE FIRST PHOTOGRAPH EVER TAKEN
OF THE MISSION BUILDING.
*Fr. Luis Gil y Taboada. . .1809 to 1813
1814 to 1815.
FT. Ramon Olbes 1813 to 1816
*Fr. Antonio Eipoll 1815 to 1828
*Fr. Francisco Suner 1816 to 1823
Fr. Antonio Jayme 1821 to 1829
*Fr. Juan Moreno 1828 to 1829
*Fr. Antonio Jimeno 1829 to 1840
Fr. Narcisco Duran 1833 to 1846
Fr. Jose Maria Gonzalez de Rubio. . . .
1843 to 1876
(Was superior of all the missions for a
time, and administrator of the Diocese of
California.)
Fr. Jose Joaquin 1843 to 1856
(During which time he was superior of
all the missions,, and founder of the Apos-
tolic College at Santa Barbara City, which
was distinct from the Mission, of which
Fr. Antonio, his brother, always was the
accredited missionary for the Indians.)
*Fr. Jose Marie Romo 1874 to 1885
(He was the first guardian of the regu-
larly organized monastery having a num-
ber of priests and clerics as well as lay
brothers.)
Fr. Ferdinand Bergmeyer.1885 to 1888
as Guardian.
Fr. Kilian Schloesser 1888 to 1891
as Guardian.
Fr. Hugh Fessler 1891 to 1894
as Guardian.
Fr. Ferdinand Bergmeyer.,1894 to 1896
as Guardian.
Fr. Servatius Altmicks. .Acting Superior
1896.
Fr. Bernardine Weis 1896 to 1898
as Guardian.
Fr. Peter Wellischeck 1898 to 1900
as Guardian.
Fr. Ludger Glauber 1900 te-
as Guardian.
It is impossible to say which of the
early missionaries, was the superior at the
respective missions. Usually the senior
354
OVEBLAKD MONTHLY.
acted as such in an emergency, but they
divided the work in such a way that one
devoted himself to the temporal affairs,
while the other chiefly instructed the In-
dians in the Christian doctrine and admin-
istered the Sacraments., though not exclu-
sive to either one. Those marked with a *
were in charge, without a doubt.
The above was written and signed by
Rev. Ludger Glauber, 0. F. M., Superior,
Old Mission, Santa Barbara, California.
You can see the square, yellow towers
of the old Mission, with its background
of high hills from almost any part of the
bay as you enter the harbor, or from the
city of Santa Barbara. The street cars
take you there in about twenty minutes
is remarkable, and one feels that here
a landmark indeed, and to stay, and stamj
ing, too, for all that is best in our lantj
As seen by the ground plan, the mail
front is backed by wings, one at each eml
that to the right being the chapel winjl
and the other to the left the schoolroom
and working apartments. An open she
connects these two rooms, thus forming
square. Around this square are the cei
and tile floored cloisters, enclosing
monks' or sacred garden. Here no one
the monks are allowed, and they say f
women have ever entered its space. Th
lucky ones who have qaught glimpses of
from the choir room from the stone to
have remarked how hard it was to descri
INTERIOR OF CHURCH.
from the railroad station. Stopping at
the yellow stone fountain in front of the
Mission, the strong, simple lines of its
vase-like center, and its broad basin, octa-
gon shape, all covered with lichen, is the
first thing you see as you get off the car.
The entrance part of the facade of the
Mission structure, with its massive square
towers and sweeping buttresses, noble en-
trance steps and tiled landing leading to
the entrance door, forms a strong architec-
tural ending to the arcade, which occupies
the rest of the front, and which shelters
the loggia. The impression one gets on
first viewing the building, standing out in
its yellow gray against the pearl blue sky,
When I first got sight of it, and tried
put the simple outlines of the flower be°
on paper, it seemed impossible, but afte
wards it took on the beautiful shape I ha'
tried to outline. But the whole effect
the garden, with its rank growth of shn
and tree and flower will never be forge
ten. 1 marked down the names of t.
shrubbery as nearly as I could name thei
but one of the fathers kindly undertook
get me a more complete list. It is t<
lengthy to reproduce here, but among t!
flowers and herbs were those of both tei
perate and tropical regions, includii
nearly every name well known to flow
lovers.
SYCAMORE TREES, "THE COTTA SISTERS/' THE STONES SHOW THE OLD WATER-WAY NOW DRY
The ground plan was made with the as-
sistance of the padres, and together we
measured and sketched until every picture,
statue, altar and cross was marked.
The cemetery is reached through the
skull or side door of the church. This part
the public is allowed to enter. It is not
used for burial now. Over the door you
see human skulls set in the wall.
There is an air of peaceful quietness
about the missions that can only be ap-
preciated by those who have wandered lei-
surely around its cloisters, through its gar-
dens and its orchards.
The ringing of the old Spanish bells,
the hum of the humming birds and bees
among the flowers, the pigeons cooing in
the rafters, the smiling faces of the monks
and students in their brown tasselled
gowns, as they pass on their way to mass,
make an indelible impression, and the
pearl-blue sky overhead make me now, as
Jfaa. Cllaritti Apera/ IfKtJfan jCf3Rn0
»•""''*' m «•.*?• n-e*u. m i(s,ir
H m m m — H
THE GROUND PLAN OF THE
SANTA BARBARA
MISSION
358
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
I recall it, wish I could again see them
and feel their warm greetings and pass
some more delightful days with them.
The ground plan gives an idea of the
arrangement of this mission, and by the
way. is typical of all the other missions,
for in nearly every one the ruins of the en-
closed squares are easily discerned. Stone
walls surround the cemetery, and the old
walls of stone with trenches on top, once
used to carry the water from the reser-
voirs above to the building and grounds
in former years are now dry, and the effect
of the ivy growing out is quaint and strik-
ing. The stone walls are now nearly as
good as they ever were, while in many of
and peaceful spirit of Fr. Junipero Serra,
which seems to hover over all the missions
and especially here, leaves a memory very
pleasing and restful to recall, and impos-
sible to fully describe.
I remember 'twas twilight in the sacred
garden. From the far fields come the
meadow lark's call. The vesper bells were
sounding, calling the monks to worship.
The odor of the orange trees and Datura
flowers, re-inforced with sweet-smelling
herbs, filled the air. The green of the
Bishop's cypress stood out dark and beau-
tiful against the sunlit lichen covered
walls. With the rich-hued roof tiles, the
last rays of the sun lingering on them,
THE MISSION BUILDING AS IT STANDS TO-DAY.
the other missions the walls, being of
adobe, the rains have nearly destroyed
them. The mission building walls are very
thick, giving deep shadows to all openings
and archways. The windows opening in-
to the front loggia have wood grilles, case-
ment sash and panels, folding back in the
deep walls, and are charming pieces of
work.
The chapel has been photographed so
many times that a very good idea can be
gotten of what it looks like.
But the atmosphere of the place, the
hushed voices of the monks, the devout
gestures tff the worshipers, the dim light
illuminating the glorious Bourganville
vine near the choir room door. Harmoni-
ous voices are singing, and contentment
reigns. The pictures, altars and candles,
the statues, the great store of rare and an-
cient vestments, the curios and old hand-
made books, all lend additional charms of
their own.
The two trees marked on the ground
plan ("The Cotta Sisters"), were formerly
branches of sycamore trees used to support
the wet clothes hung to dry by two charm-
ing Spanish girls, so the legend goes, who
washed their dainty clothes in the old stone
water-way, and the continual dampness
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360
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
caused them to take root and grow, and
finally to become the trees now there.
The girls have long since grown to be
grandmothers, the water-way is dry, but
with the new leaves come each year remer
brances of the senoritas, and under thei
peaceful shade the contented monks re
and dream.
THANK GOD FER 'CALIFORNY
BY
ALICE D. O. GREENWOOD
I got a letter tother day
Frum friends away back East,
An' they said as how they hed jist now
Two foot o' snow at least.
That murcury was a-loafin'
Close aroun' the zero mark,
*-, the day was cold an' blustry,
n' the nights was wild an' dark.
So I jis' sot down an' writ 'em,
An' says I : "Now, looky here,
There ain't no sense in livin'
Whur fer six months o' the year
You're a fitin' an' contendin'
Per yer life gin snow an' ice.
Why not come to Calif orny?
Whur it's simply paradise.
Then I jis glanced out the winder,
An' the picter that I seen
Was a door-yard full o' posies,
An' the hills all clothed in green,
An' my neighbor's cows a-grazin'
In clover to their knees,
An' a gentle breath a-stirrin'
'Mong the blossoms in the trees.
An' T thought of the old home place
Away back there in Maine,
An' T could see the snow drifts,
An' the frosty window pane,
An' the mill-pond in the medder
(Whur I come nigh drowndin' twice).
I node was all froze over,
Jis a solid glare of ice.
An' says I in solemn earnest
Like a preacher when he's took
Afore his congregation
His tex' frum out the Book :
"Thank God fer Californy,"
An' T ain't a mite o' doubt
It's the place 'twas once called Eden
That the Scripture tells about.
AN IDYLL OF THE CIRCLE L,
BY
STELLA F.
ILLUSTRATED BY R. \V. BlTRROUGH.
EKKY, the Circle L's
oldest and most talk-
ative vaquero, sat out-
side the stables on an
upturned bucket from
which he had just
emptied the hot soap
suds, chuckling to
himself and watching his harness dry in
the sunshine. Jerry did not hear the
Old Man — the boss of Circle L — ride up
until the latter yelled sharply in his ear:
"What's the matter with you, Jerry —
taken an overdose o' laughin' gas?"
It was easy to tell by the Old Man's tone
that his mood was none of the pleasantest.
"When did you get back, Jedge ?" asked
Jerry.
"Half an hour ago — and not a man to
be seen on the whole ranch. I went over
to the bunk house to find out if the boys
were all dead, and there they were calmly
snoring. I got 'em up in a hurry, an' they
were the sorriest set that ever faced the
mornin' sun. If you'd rounded 'em up
you wouldn't have found more'n half with
their normal number o' teeth, an' only
'bout five that could see out o' both eyes
at once. I stood an' looked at 'em sittin'
on the sides o' their bunks an' er-feelin' o'
their injuries for a little, an' then I asked
'em quiet if they'd had a band o' stam-
pedin' cattle run over them, an' they said
no, they'd been at a dance. Dance,"
snapped the Old Man, "they must o'
danced on each other."
Jerry shifted to the other side of the
bucket.
"I'll give you the inside facts, Jedge, if
you want."
"If I want — 'course I want."
"Well, the widdy Norton gave what she
calls a leap year dance last night. The
ladies were all to bring pretty boxes o'
lunch with their names tucked inside, an'
the widdy auction them boxes off to the
boys. Now, both Ike Gregg an' Joe
Cooper are er-courtin' your Miss Sally —
The Old Man leaned forward in his
saddle and chewed his mustache viciously.
"What she been doin' now?"
"Your Miss Sally," continued Jerry,
without noticing the interruption, "takes
each o' them boys aside separately before
th' dance an' shows him a pink tissy paper
box covered up with violets, an' tells him
that if he doesn't get that box he needn't
ever look at her again. Of course, at the
bettin' both them boys were bound to get
that pink tissy paper box if it cost him
six months' salary. They kept raisin'
each other until the widdy began to have
visions o' payin' the mortgage off o' her
farm.
"Pretty soon the rest caught on what
was doin', and commenced bettin' on the
winner. Well, sir, inside o' five minutes
that hall looked like a race track pool room
on a busy day. Then jes' in the midst o'
everything, Joe swollered a chew o' tobacco
the wrong way in his excitement, and
while his friends were poundin' him on
the back, the widdy got rattled and
knocked down the pink tissy paper box to
Ike."
"Well, that don't account for their black
eyes," said the Old Man, as Jerry paused
to let him have the full effect of his re-
marks.
"Oh, that was jes' the beginnin' o'
things. When Ike opened that pink tissy
paper box, instead o' Miss Sally's name
he found the name o' that old maid school
marm over from Beaver Trap Eidge, an'
362
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
there was your Miss Sally er-eatin' calmy
with that sorrel headed surveyor fellow
from Guenerelis, who's been makin' eyes
at her so much.
"Ike was so mad that he wouldn't eat
with the school marm, an' her brother
started to fight him for it. By that time
things in general were gettin' pretty lively.
The boys who had backed Joe wanted all
bets declared off because he had been in-
capacydated. The boys that backed Ike
wouldn't hear o' it, so one-half asked the
other half to step outside. You seen the
result yourself."
The old man brought his fist down on
the horn of his saddle with a bang that
made his cayuse jump.
"That settles it — that settles it, I say;
that girl o' mine has run wild long enough
— 'she's got to be broke. That's the third
time this month that this ranch has been
turned upside down by her —
At this point, the conversation was in-
terrupted by the noise of hoof-beats, and
Sally herself, her hair flying and her
dress fluttering, came toward them at full
gallop. She reined her horse in with a
suddenness that would have thrown any
but a ranch girl from the saddle, and
called out:
"Pop, come on back — (breakfast's
ready." Then noticing Jerry: "Hello,
Circle L Gazette. Pop been readin' you
this morning? Suppose you got scare-
heads on how bad the boy's been?"
"A drunken, vicious, rope-losin' set o'
ruffians," said the Old Man, his wrath
kindling afresh. "Just when you want
'em they're all off on a spree, or they're
jest gettin' over a spree, or they're pre-
parin' to go on a spree. They can't go
off one at a time and get drunk like gen-
tlemen, but they have to stampede like a
bunch o' crazy steers. They can't "
"Come on, Pop — stop malignin' a vir-
tuous, peaceful, lady-like set o' gentlemen
riders — bacon's gettin' hard and coffee's
gettin' cold," and Sally leaned over and
gave her father's horse a cut with her
quirt.
"Sally," said her father with delibera-
tion as she cleared away the lunch dishes
that noon, "I've been thinkin' earnestly
over your future, and I decided that it's
high time for you to get married an' set-
tle down. Now, there's Ike and Joe that
you've been er-foolin' and playin' tricks
on these two years, an' I decided after
considerin' the matter that it'd be
only right an' jest to choose between 'em."
"But, Pop, if I choose Joe it won't be
just to Ike, an' if I choose Ike it won't be
just to Joe."
"It's better to be jest to one than to
neither o' them."
The boss of the Circle L got up from
the table, and as he left the room, said
with a brave assumption of parental au-
thority :
"I told 'em to come at one o'clock,
Sally, for you to choose," and he shut the
door hurriedly. Sally gazed around the
room a moment in bewildered surprise,
looked at the clock, and then ran quickly
to the kitchen window.
Two figures were wending their way to-
ward the ranch house — one from the west
and one from the north. Sally made a
face, then laughed and ran back into the
dining room. One by one she carried the
chairs into the kitchen and shut the door
between.
"No use makin' men too comfortable,"
she said to the Maltese curled up under
the stove.
A moment later there was a timid
knock on the door, and in response to her
"Come in!" the two suitors, who had
reached the house at the same time, en-
tered. Sally brushed crumbs vigorously
from the table, and glanced up just long
enough to say:
"How d' do, Ike? How d' do, Joe?
Sit down and make yourselves at home."
"There ain't no cheers, Sally."
"That's so," said Sally, and went on
brushing the crumbs off the table.
The suitors glanced at each other,
cleared their throats, and shifted uneasily
from one foot to another. Ike went over
and placed his hat on the table, then be-
coming doubtful about the etiquette of
the move, went over and took it off again.
The silence grew long and strained.
Sally finally got through with the
crumbs, seated herself on a corner of the
table, and after subjecting the suitors to
a long and critical stare, remarked:
"Have you ever noticed that cattle-
rustlers and horse-thieves always go in
pa;rs — a long and a short?"
SALLY.
364
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
The suitors looked at each other ques-
tioningly, and deciding that the remark
was impersonal, smiled politely in uni-
son.
"Ike," said Sally, gazing at the freck-
les that covered the countenance of the
tall, lank Mr. Gregg, "do you know that
you're gettin' to look more 'n more like a
pinto mule every day?"
Mr. Gregg turned red to the rims of his
ears, tried to speak, choked, and stood
helpless, leaning against the wall. Mr.
Cooper gave vent to a loud laugh, which,
bethinking himself of his dignity and
somewhat alarmed by the look in his
rival's eye, he cut short in the middle.
"What you laughin' at? Me? asked
Mr. Gregg, recovering his voice and doub-
ling up his fists.
"I ain't laughin' at nobody, Ike — an'
remember you're in the presence of a
lady."
Mr. Gregg looked abashed, and glanced
out of the corner of his eye at Sally to see
if she had noticed his breach of etiquette.
Then getting up his courage and staring
straight at her, he gulped once or twice,
and said :
"Sally, your pop says you're to choose
between me an' ': — pointing a finger of
scorn at Joe, "him."
"Choose you for what — prize calves?"
The suitors looked at each other.
"You're makin' fools o' us," said Joe.
"Couldn't do that," said Sally, balanc-
ing the crumb brush, "the Lord got in
ahead of me."
"Your Pop says you got to marry one o'
us — if you don't he's goin' to send you to
a convent school."
Sally wrinkled her forehead and- looked
at them as they leaned against the door —
red, perspiring and self-conscious. Then
she laughed as a sudden idea struck her.
"You're both such handsome, intelli-
gent men," she said, slowly, "that I can't
make up my mind which to choose — so
I've thought of a plan. You know Pop's
two three-year-olds that he's been in-
tendin' to break ? Well, this is my plan—
you each take one and whoever breaks his
horse first, I'll choose him."
"That suits me, Sally," said Mr. Gregg,
relieved almost to the point of tears at
the prospect of something definite to do.
"Me, too," said Mr. Cooper, and the
two departed in high delight at getting off
so easily.
The news of the horse-breaking contest
for the hand of Sally spread over the
ranch like a forest fire in a high wind. All
the vaqueros who were able crawled out
and sat on the ground in a long line in
front of the Circle L ranch house, smok-
ing, talking and joshing one another. A
wedding or a horse-breaking will always
bring out ranch men in large quantities,
and this combined the merits of the two.
The gambler spirit, uncrushed by the ex-
perience of the preceding night, was in
full evidence. Betting on each suitor ran
high.
Two superb three-year-olds, one a
chestnut sorrel, one a black, were led
blindfolded from the corral to the level
space in front of the ranch house. The
bits worried them and they jerked back
their heads and pranced a little.
"Here you are, boys — toss up for your
horses. Heads, Modoc; tails, Chapel,"
said the Old Man."
Ike took the silver dollar, and threw it
with a flip of his thumb into the air. It
came down heads. "Chapel for you, Joe,"
he said. Then, with a run and a light
spring each was in the saddle.
At the same moment the men at the
horses' heads slipped the leather bands
from their eyes and jumped back. Chapel,
the chestnut sorrel, the moment he saw
Joe, shot straight ahead a hundred yards,
leaped into the air, shot ahead again and
disappeared around a bend of the road.
Black Modoc rolled his beautiful eyes
until only the whites showed, made a
vicious bite at Ike's leg, and with a whinny
of rage, bucked and came down stiff-
legged. Then he ran with his head down,
straight toward a pine that grew along
the side of the road. Ike, who knew of old
the tricks of horses, swung his leg up over
the horn of the saddle just in time to keep
it from getting crushed against the tree.
Regaining his balance, he drove in his
sharpened spurs and brought down the
quirt with all the strength of his strong,
lean arm. The frightened young bronco
bucked again and again. The struggle for
mastery began.
Meanwhile in the kitchen Sally wiped
the dinner dishes slowly, meditatively. Her
brows were drawn together in a frown,
AN IDYLL OF THE CIBCLE L.
365
and as the contest went on the frown deep-
ened. Coining back from her fifth trip
to the front of the house, she chanced to
glance out the kitchen window.
"Why/' she said to the sleepy Maltese
under the stove, "he's back. I know be-
cause I can see his hair." Then, catch-
ing up the dish towel, she rushed to the
window and waved it violently. The red
haired boy, who was surveying a couple of
hundred yards away, saw and ran up to
the window.
"What are you waving that towel for
— want 'hie, Sally?"
"Ed, come 'ere. Are you as .dead set on
marryin' me as you was last night?"
"Sure."
"All right — I accept you. Shall I name
the day right off?"
"Sure."
"Well, 1 name to-day."
"You're the boss," said the red-haired
boy, bewildered but acquiescent.
"Then go right along and rustle two
horses from the corral — my pinto pony
and Captain Graves' — an' tie them to the
buckeye tree over by the watering trough.
Then come for me."
A minute later the red haired boy lifted
Sally, hat box and a telescope basket,
from the kitchen window. Taking her
hand they ran, bending low and laughing,
to where the horses were tied under the
buckeye.
While the horse-breaking contest for her
hand was going on in front of the Circle
L ranch house, the red-haired boy and
Sally were galloping gaily down the moun-
tain road that passed the back of the house
to where below the yellow flats of James-
burg gleamed in the sunshine.
The excitement ran high in front of the
Circle L. The black three-year-old had
bucked continually for an hour, but Ike
still managed to stick on him. The lean
vaquero's face was white, and every time
that Modoc struck the ground after a wild
leap into the air, the blood came in little
spurts from his nose and mouth. Still, he
\V;H plying the spurs and quirt bravely.
Suddenly at the left bend of the road,
Joe appeared. Chapel was tossing his head
and taking little jumping steps to the left
and right, but he was undoubtedly
"broke."
"We-ee," yelled Joe gleefully, as they
passed in review before the cheering men,
"we're doin' a two-step," and he tossed
his sombrero in the air. It fell just in
front of the horse's head, and he reared
up on his hind legs, then bolted across the
level space in front of the ranch house like
a streak of lightning.
A laugh went up from the line in front
of the house.
In a few seconds Joe appeared again,
and was greeted with:
"Come and stay awhile, Joe; what's
your hurry?"
"You're not startin' off to get married
so soon, are you ?" and remarks of a simi-
lar order.
"Go on. now, you crazy son of a pack
mule," said the vaquero. "Can't you walk
straight? You act as if you'd eaten loco
weed."
"Joe's won," was the general decision,
for Modoc, who came of a more fiery stock,
still bucked uncontrollably.
^Get off, Ike, and we'll finish him to-
morrow," said the Old Man kindly. "For-
tune of war, my boy."
The Old Man and Jerry ran to the
horse's head while Ike got off. He stag-
gered a tittle as he walked over and sat
down shamefacedly on the ranch house
steps.
"Come on, boys," said the Old Man;
"we'll go in and fetch Sally."
The whole band entered the ranch house
with a noisy shuffling of feet and much
laughter.
"Sally," called her father, "Oh, Sally !"
Only the echoes answered.
"Sally — where are you? Come 'ere
— Joe's won."
No answer.
"Maybe she's hidin' 'cause she's bash-
ful," suggested the successful suitor anx-
iously.
Here, Jerry, who had penetrated to
the kitchen on an exploring expedition,
handed a piece of paper to the Old Man.
"Found it pinned to the roller," he an-
nounced importantly.
The Old Man took it and read aloud :
'•'Dear Pop — I decided that if I was
going to broke double I'd choose my own
running mate.
"Your affectionate,
"SALLY."
366
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
"P. S.— Gone to Jamesburg."
"Well, I'll be darned/' said the Old
Man.
"How's that? Has she gone?" asked
the successful suitor.
"Took the bit between her teeth an'
bolted," said the Old Man, a slight tinge
of admiration creeping into his voice in
spite of himself.
The unsuccessful suitor burst into a
loud laugh, and all the rest followed his
example.
"Gentlemen," said the Old Man, and
every vaquero in the room shifted to two
feet and stood up straight, "I want to an-
nounce that my daughter Sally is goin'
to be married in Jamesburg this even-
ing-.
While I'm not sure who her partner's
going to be, I strongly suspect the sorrel
haired boy who is surveying the ranch, he
being the only eligible man absent from
this distinguished gatherin'. You are all
invited to attend the weddin' an' I want
to announce that the buckboard will be
filled with hay for those gentlemen indis-
posed by dancin' or otherwise to ridin'
horseback. Saddle up."
His words were greeted by a prolonged
cheer — then the vaqueros scattered to-
ward the corrals and stables.
Five minutes later, a cavalcade of Cir-
cle L cowboys, followed at a short distance
by the Circle L buckboard, wended their
way down the narrow mountain road to-
ward where the flats of Jamesburg
gleamed red in the sunset.
"Ike," said the successful suitor to the
unsuccessful suitor, as they lay stretched
out comfortably on the straw, "I pity that |
sorrel-headed boy."
"We had a lucky escape," said the un-
successful suitor. "Bronco bustin' won't
be in it with keepin' her from kickin*
over the traces."
"You're both pretty lucky," said old
Jerry, from the depths of the straw,, "to
be able to look at yourselves and know
that you're still single men an' free. You
both had a narrow escape from marryin*
a very frivolous young woman, and one
what hasn't a due respect for age."
The suitors did not answer, but lay on
the flat of their backs in the warm straw
and stared meditatively at the far off,
silent and unsympathetic stars as they
jolted over the rough mountain road to
Sally's wedding.
SOMEWHERE
BY
ISABEULE M. TENKANT
In the beautiful gardens of somewhere,
There are flowers of faith and trust.
They are yielding there, all their fragrance rare,
As they bloom in the leaf-strewn dust.
On the deep, pearl-crested seas of Somewhere,
There are ships of hope in the night,
They are steering there to the shores of care,
With the pilot of Love in sight.
In the bright blue of the skies of Somewhere
There are clouds that are silver-lined.
They are hidden there, by a rain-bow fair,
And are ours — vours r.nd mine — to find.
AN EARLY SETTLER'S STORY
BY FRANK H. SWEET
BOUT the year 1849,
when I was barely in
my twenties, I had
been knocking about
the Oregon country
for a year or two,
trading here and
there with whites and
reds, and looking for a place that suited
me for permanent residence. Many emi-
grant "trains" were arriving from the
East over the old Oregon trail. All these
had to make a long detour down the Snake
river to reach a ford ; and I perceived that
ft ferry at the point where the trail struck
the river, would be the source of a con-
siderable income to its proprietor.
Many of the immigrants, and especially
those from New England, had good sums
of coin with them, and few, I reasoned,
would care to go out of their way sixty or
seventy-five miles, when for a dollar a
wagon, they could be ferried across the
Snake river promptly and safely.
I made up my mind to establish such
a ferry. With ponies, men and materials,
I made the trip to the river, and began
work on the first flat-boat ever seen on the
upper waters of the Snake.
The work did not make the rapid pro-
gress I had anticipated. I grew tired of
the food, which consisted mainly of dry-
salted pork and corn-dodgers. The sal-
mon were running, but the water was so
deep that we could not kill them.
There was a cascade on the river about
sixty miles away, where the Indians came
yearly to catch and cure fish. I was not
then as well known among the Indians as
I became afterward, and did not dare
venture among them alone.
At a distance of a few miles, on the
opposite side of the river, there was an
old post of the Hudson Bay Company,
consisting of a palisade store-house and
several dwellings, where an agent and
several men were always to be found. I
had no doubt that I could get a man
there who knew the Indians well, to help
me obtain the fish, and with this plan in
view, I left my men one day and set off
for fresh salmon.
I found but three men at the post — a
Scotchman, a half-breed and a Kanaka or
Sandwich Islander.
The Kanaka had lived among the Snake
Indians, and could converse with them
in their own language. I made an ar-
rangement whereby the Kanaka was to
pack a pony with blankets and other sale-
able goods, and make a trip with me to the
salmon fishery, in behalf of the post.
We started in the afternoon, camped
that night on the river bank, and reached
the cascade at about noon the next day.
The Kanaka left the pony in a thicket,
at some distance from the Indians, say-
ing that we must not show our goods until
we saw in what mood they were. We were
both dressed in the Hudson Bay Com-
pany's costume, which consisted of a blue
flannel shirt, a broad-brimmed hat, green
trousers and a drab coat, or jacket, of doe-
skin. Each of us carried a revolver; I
had also a carbine. As I was at that time
somewhat stout and florid, I felt that I
might pass anywhere for a young Eng-
lishman. That circumstance, indeed, was
very fortunate for me, as the event
showed.
As we approached the Indian camp, we
saw the entire company of red-skins gath-
ered about a hole in the ground, from
which a cloud of steam rose high in the
air. Out of the hole they soon lifted an
enormous salmon, which weighed at least
fifty pounds.
I never saw food that tempted me more,
and I expected an invitation to eat. I
was very hungry. I had gone there for
368
OVEKLAKD MONTHLY.
salmon, and there it lay, in most tempt-
ing form, before me, and yet I could ob-
tain nothing more than the tantalizing
odor of it.
The Indians, we saw, were not very
friendly. 'They ate their salmon without
speaking to us, and their glances were
lowering and suspicious.
After a time two of them approached
the Kanaka and asked him if I were not
an American. The Kanaka did not hesi-
tate to assure them that I was an English-
man from the Hudson Bay Company's
post, and that we had come up to buy
salmon.
They paid no attention to the offer to
buy their fish, and still debated among
themselves, appearing to suspect me.
Presently one of them came to me and
asked to take my carbine, and I, not car-
ing to show any fear, gave it to him. Then
they began to shoot at a mark with the
purpose, as I soon suspected, of using up
my ammunition. Presently I stepped in,
and taking the gun, walked slowly away
in answer to a signal from the Kanaka.
Presently he sauntered up to me and
said: "Two of their men were killed re-
cently in an affray with a party of Ameri-
cans, and they are after blood. One of
them thinks he has seen you before. You
must slip out of sight as soon as possible,
and get as far from them as you can be-
fore night. I will stay and keep them
talking a while, and then make my own
escape. When you get to the high bluff
below where we left the pony, wait until
sundown and watch for me. If you see
me coming alone, remain quiet until I
reach you, but if I am followed, ride for
your life."
I sauntered about with an air of un-
concern for a time, as if waiting for them
to get ready to sell their salmon. Then
I edged my way out of camp and was
soon in the saddle, riding as fast as my
little cayuse could run.
I reached the bluff, and was able to
command a view of the country for miles
around. Seeing that I was not pursued,
I lay there, keeping a sharp lookout in the
direction of the Indian tepees.
The Kanaka had manifestly succeeded
in disarming their suspicions, for the
time.
By-and-bye a wagon train appeared in
sight, far off on the plain to the east-
ward. For an hour or two I watched it,
as it crept slowly toward the river. I
ought to have gone at once to meet the
emigrants. A timely warning of the dan-
ger they were in from the Snake Indians
that night might have saved their lives.
But I was new to frontier life, and did
not realize their danger.
Dusk fell while yet they were several
miles away on the plain, and shortly after-
ward the Kanaka joined me. We set off
immediately, and reached the post a little
before daybreak. Thence I returned to
my boat-building empty-handed, greatly
to the disappointment of my men, who
had their mouths made up for salmon.
Ten days after my visit to the Indian
camp I was sitting in my shanty near the
Snake, looking lazily out over the sage-
brush plains that stretched away until
they seemed to become the rim of the
world. It was intensely hot.
Presently my eye caught an object
the plain. It was so far away that
cold not make out clearly what it wa
It appeared to be a man, but its
ments were not those of a man in a nor
mal state. Sometimes it was erect, am:
apparently coming towards me; but
staggered like a drunken person. Then il
fell and would disappear for a time, b\
it seemed to be possessed of a desire
move on.
Evidently it was a drunken man. Bui
how could a solitary man, upon the bai
of the Snake Eiver, on foot, many miles
from any place where liquor was obtain
able, become intoxicated?
At any rate, as I had no use for a
drunkard, I made no effort to reach the
person, and ere long went inside my hu
to take a nap.
An hour or more later a boy abou
fifteen years of age reached my door, am
flung himself in a heap upon a bench
He was so faint that he could hardly
tell me that he was starving, but it needed
no word to inform me that the lad was
in sore straits.
I brought him into my shanty and gave
him some water and a little food, know-
ing that to satisfy his hunger at once
might prove fatal.
His face, hands and hair were covered
with sand and blood, which had dried on,
ON THE OBEGON TRAIL.
369
and his clothing, consisting only of shirt
and trousers, was tattered and stiff with
dirt. His face showed that he had been
suffering intensely, and his tongue was
parched with thirst, for though he had
been near the river for miles, he was so
weak that he feared to go down the bank,
lest he should be unable to climb back.
I got water, soap, a towel and some of
my own clothing, and bade the boy try
to bathe and change his garments, and
meantime I began to make a cup of tea
for him.
But still he sat, apparently unable to
move, and at last I approached and set
about helping him to remove his old
clothes.
Taking hold of the shirt by the collar
I attempted to draw it over his head. The
poor fellow screamed with pain.
"What is it, lad?" I asked.
"Oh, mister, I've got an arrow in me !"
he groaned.
I thought at first that his sufferings
from lack of food had rendered him light-
headed, and so said soothingly that we
would take it out as the shirt came olf,
and then he would be all right.
"But it catches, it aches! You can't
get it off !" he exclaimed.
I examined his body, and found pro-
truding through his back, and about three
inches to the left of the spine, a broken
arrow-shaft. Looking in front I found
a half -healed hole where the stone head
of the arrow had struck him. The missile
had gone completely through his body!
The flint had fallen from the end that
protruded on his back, but I found the
ligament of deer sinew that had bound it
to the shaft.
That the boy could have survived such a
wound for more than a week, and have
traveled sixty miles, in such a country,
without food, seemed to me the strangest
instance of human endurance I had ever
known or heard of. I hardly believed it
possible that he could recover, but was
ready to do all I could for -him.
I was no surgeon, but I knew that the
terrible arrow must come out. The
slightest movement of it gave him severe
pain, for the flesh was greatly inflamed.
Bracing my nerves, I encouraged him, but
told him plainly that the arrow must
come out if he wished to recover.
"Take it out, mister/' he said, faintly.
It was astonishing how tenaciously the
arrow-shank held its place. I worked an
hour before I could get it out; and the
poor lad, who had borne the agony brave-
ly, now fainted dead away.
I dressed the wound as well as I could,
and put him to bed. I had small hopes
of his recovery, but he improved rapidly.
In the course of two days he sat up in the
bunk and ate food eagerly.
Alfred — as I "shall here call him — then
told me that the emigrant train to which
he belonged had camped at dusk on the
bank of the river, the very night of my
escape from the Snakes. Plainly it was
the train which I had seen.
The emigrants had seen no Indians for
several days. They prepared their sup-
per and arranged the wagons for the night
and then turned in and fell asleep. Even
the watch, no doubt, had got drowsy, lulled
by the silence and suspecting no enemy.
The Indians had probably seen the train
during the afternoon, and thirsting for
vengeance for the killing of two of their
tribe, were watching for a chance to at-
tack.
Some time in the night the emigrants
were awakened by frightful whoops and
the discharge of guns. The savages were
upon them.
Several of the men jumped out of their
wagons, with their rifles, and attemped io
drive off the Indians. The fight raged
sharply. Alfred's father had been one
of the first out. His mother, older sister
and brother had also jumped from the
wagon, calling to him to follow them and
hide in the brush; but he delayed for a
few moments, searching for an axe with
which to arm himself.
While he was thus occupied, an Indian
drew the rough canvas curtain at the front
of the wagon, saw Alfred, and began to
climb in. The boy jumped from the rear
of the wagon and started to run into the
brush.
He had almost succeeded, as he thought,
in getting out of sight, when something
struck him, and he felt a terrible pain, as
if he were cut in two. He remembered
falling forward, and then became uncon-
scious. He did not know how long he
lay; but when he came to his senses the
moon was set; it was dark, and all around
370
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
was silent.
The ripple of the river came to his
ears, and he dragged himself down to it.
A draught of water revived him some-
what, and he walked along the bank think-
ing— for his recollection of what had hap-
pened was still confused — that the wagon-
train had gone in that direction.
"Did you find the trail?" I inquired.
"No, sir. I suppose I kept to the river
so long that I lost it, and then I just wan-
dered on, hoping to find some one."
"And you found nothing to eat?" I
questioned.
"I found rose-buds and sometimes
pigeon-berries, and I ate them. That is
all I have eaten since that night. Some
days I can't remember about at all. I
lay down amongst the sage a good many
times. I think I lay in one spot three
days. Part of the time I was crazy, and
saw strange things. Sometimes I would
come to my senses and find myself walk-
ing. At last I saw your shanty, but it
seems to me that I was two or three days
getting to it."
"Was the arrow broken when you dis-
covered it?"
"Yes. I suppose I must have fallen on
it, and so broke it off, for I rolled over and
over when I first fell."
"Did you try to pull it out?"
"Yes, but you don't know, mister, how
hard a thing that was to do. The soreness
and pain was terrible, and I just made up
my mind to get somewhere, if I could, and
leave it sticking there, till I found some-
body who could help me."
"Well, my brave boy !" I exclaimed,
"You've earned the right to live ; and you
are welcome to stay with me, or go with
the next wagon train that comes. But
you must stay here until you are
stronger."
"All right, mister. You've been very
good to me, and I won't forget it; but I
must find my folks if they are alive."
I greatly feared that he would never
see his parents again, and partly for his
sake and partly from a sense of my own
responsibility in the matter, I took four
of my men and rode to the scene of the
attack. We encamped one night on the
way, and for greater security visited the
spot during the night.
Not more than half a mile from the
bluff from which I had watched the emi-
grant train, we came upon the place where
it had camped and been attacked. A
number of wagons had been plundered
and burned. The iron-work of them lay
scattered around.
More ominous still was the odor from
the bodies of the unfortunate victims —
men, women and children — who still lay
unburied, where they had fallen. Out of
pity, and for common humanity's sake, we
hastily excavated a shallow grave in the
sandy soil, and gave them such rude sep-
ulchre as we could give.
From Alfred's statements and from in-
telligence afterward received, I concluded
that the wagons of these murdered emi-
grants were part of an overland train
which had fallen in the rear of the main
body of teams.
The lad was the sole survivor of his
family, but he still hoped that some of
them might have escaped, and went on
to Portland and Salem with the next train
that passed.
Alfred is now an elderly and prosper-
ous farmer in the Willamette Valley, and
has a family of sturdy boys, the eldest of
whom bears my name in recognition of
the desperate surgical operation I per-
formed at the first ferry on the Snake
Elver.
WAR AND THE COMMODORE
BY
HORATIO LANKFOKD KING
DRAWINGS BY R. E. SNODGRASS.
HE ENGLISHMAN
and myself were play-
ing a game of crib-
bage. The little
South American had
lost himself behind a
week-old Peruvian
newspaper and was
mumbling aloud.
"Our friend, the South American,"
said the Englishman, "was once a peasant
— or what they call them down here.
That way of mumbling proves it. A
dictator will spring up like a mushroom
down in this part of the world, and his
mother will be an Indian. Take the
lives of South America's so-called great
men for example. He learns to read, and
the next thing you know he's an ephem-
eral idol of the masses, leading them out
of some political bondage. I was down
in this part of South America three years
once — yes, mines, and I know his breed
pretty well."
"Then, of course, you speak the lan-
guage ?"
"Indifferently well. A beautiful ton-
gue ! I wonder now, you know, what's
the fellow's business? By jove! I've
just thought of something "
"Ship ahoy!"
It was just forty-six minutes by my
watch from the first call to the second.
I turned inquiringly to the captain.
"That ghost ship in sight again?" I
asked.
"It's odd," he said. "Are you to follow,
gentlemen ?"
The South American, dropping his
paper, lit a cigar and began to puff ener-
getically. As I passed him he rose sud-
denly, plucked me by the sleeve and put
a hand to my ear.
"When we come back I will impart
to you something, mi amigo!"
"Good !" I said.
"It is indeed buena" he returned with
an enigmatic smile.
The little group of curious passengers
had again collected on the forward deck,
exchanging breathless conjectures.
"0' course, bein' un-manned," a Brazil-
ian cattleman was saying, "she hits one
o' them crazy currents and o' course cir-
cles."
' "I canna understand exactly," mused
the old Scotch captain, as if in answer.
"A dead ship would keel more when hit
by one of them seas, but as it be, she's
making a straight course."
372
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
"Maybe that's because of her cargo —
loaded to the hatches/' suggested another.
"And maybe the plague is on her,
senores, and the crew have perished. It is
so!"
"It's possible, don't you know!" ejacu-
lated the Englishman.
I felt the little South American shiver-
ing at my elbow.
"The plague, mi amigo; it is a terrible
thing. I have it once on a fruit ship. We
were held to sea five league from port
for seventeen days. • Our water gave out —
caramba ! and we perish almost. And
money, I could have purchased wine for
the crew so much I had. But what is
money on a plague ship, mi amigo ?"
The flap of the vagrant's sails, like a
thousand castanets, filled the wind again,
and once more the drifting vessel crossed
the path of the moon on the waters, the
shadows of her poles slipping across her
deserted decks.
"Did any one catch her flag?" queried
the Englishman.
The captain laughed behind his bino-
cle.
"No, sor, I saw it — only some devil of
a sea-tar had washed his jinky and hung
it up in the sail to dry. There was no
flag at the mast, but I think T saw brass
muzzles in her port holes, which is un-
usual. But I think she has the plague
and we will keep the wind of her. The
Wolverine isn't bent on salvage, sors; just
now we're a packet and have pressing
business elsewhere."
"What washer build?"
"A small frigate, I'd say. Down on the
South American coast you'll find her
ilk."
"Then it couldn't be a pirate ship?"
ventured a more speculative voice.
"I'm thinking not, sor, but the brass
cannon, they get me."
"Will-a you be the — ah — kind one to
play cribbage, senor?" broke in the little
South American with a deprecatory smile.
I tried to solve the meaning of that
smile as we descended, but no, the ges-
tures and inflections of a foreigner speak-
ing an unfamiliar language are oft mis-
leading. It was probable Galvardez, the
little South American, meant nothing;
even a ghost ship may become a tiresome
spectacle.
As I dealt the cards, Galvardez leaned
over the table and regarded me critically.
I took no offense, for I saw he was not
thinking of the game.
"Mr. Waters, you would not dishonor
a confidence, eh?"
"Friend," I returned, "I am neither a
detective, nor am I in the employ of any
government. Just a plain American citi-
zen on a jaunt, and incidentally buying
coffee lands in Peru and Brazil," which
was true enough.
Again my companion regarded me criti-
cally and smiled toothsomely as he rolled
a black cigar between his teeth.
"One never knows, senor," with some-
thing almost deceptive in the slowness of
his speech.
I said nothing.
"But Brazil is a fine country, senor."
"A coming country," I amended.
"And coffee is a slow business, cierta-
mente."
I looked up quickly.
"Coffee and war!' Bah! They little
mix, senor. And at present South Amer-
ica grows more war than coffee."
"If you happen to have enough coffee, it
isn't such a slow business," I returned.
"But some men — you Americanos, have
learned to make money much sooner than
that in South America."
Again I made no reply.
"And at present South America is a
very — what you call it — fractious coun-
try. You may have your coffee planta-
tions burned. Bah!"
I smiled.
"Yes, I believe there are something
like seven revolutions and two religious
reforms tickling the spinal column of the
Andes at present."
"And one of those revolutions — the
greatest — is in Peru."
"I've heard some talk about it," I re-
plied, cautiously.
"For the Liberals, senor, they have pop
up again, eh? Now I know something
about that plague ship we saw. Attend!
She was fitted out for war by a paid com-
modore who claims to be a citizen of your
great United States, and seeks the pro-
tection of some men at Washington. His
name is Regis Pellivant. Eegis Pelli-
vant ? Perhaps you have heard of . the
name — no? Nothing more than a sea
WAR AND THE COMMODORE.
373
pirate looting and murdering for wage.
They say he has figured in many little
country wars in many lands where the
power of his nondescript soldiery was
worth the buying. England hired him in
secret down in Africa. France — she once
gave him a ship, and he sailed away some-
where— or steamed, which? Why? Be-
cause the spotless mighty ones of Europe
didn't care to arouse the censure of the
world through their greeds. This com-
modore Pellivant could accomplish very
much without proclamations of war. Thus
Europe has been known to keep its hands
clean, yet get what it wanted. Now, your
Commodore Pellivant is on his way to
Peru — or was — to assist the present party
in power because the present party in
power are hirelings to some men in Wash-
ington. They want to own Peru, to gob-
ble her gold, to own her railroads — and
those capitalists are paying the brave
Commodore Pellivant a wage. It is spec-
ulation all around. War in South Amer-
ica, senor. is most always rich men's
speculation. How that?"
I was dealing an over number of cards.
"Well, I am — but it does not matter
what I am. But I have been banished in
your California for three years, but now I
go back. I have receive a communication
from my fellow patriots. It is the call of
war — liberty! Comprehende? That ship
you saw was not plague dead really. She
play possum. Hah ! Her mission is a
secret one. But there are many dead
now and in the sea who boarded her three
weeks ago. Among her crew there were
three patriots — Liberals. They have poi-
soned the noble Commodore and his scoun-
drels. These Liberals, friends of mine,
were the cook, the scullery boy and the
carpenter. Do you catch, senor?" And
therewith the little South American
rolled the big black cigar about in his
mouth and winked broadly.
With a sharp exclamation, I arose from
the table. He got up also.
"Come," he said, "let us take a stroll
along the deck. I will-a impart to you
something else, yes."
Without a word I followed. I think I
was struggling in the throes of a kind cf
mental paralysis. We leaned over the
taffrail and gazed at the myriad reflec-
tions of the ethereal worlds in the jade
expanse of water below. The scene, one
possessing much nautical beauty, stirred
the little South American to unexpected
eloquence. There was something pro-
phetic, heroic, in his attitude. He waved
an immaculate hand uncertainly in the
moonlight, and exclaimed:
"Ah, my beautiful, blood-stained coun-
try, it is there somewhere. But do you
feel the tug of the cross-current, senor?"
I leaned hard against the rail to catch
the vibration of the ship.
"I am not much of a sailor," I returned
mechanically. "One who always travels
first class and by Pullman loses much of
the varied motion of travel and observes
less."
"You are right, senor. Complete com-
fort drugs the — ah — apperceptive nerves
— eh? It is like my country, Peru. The
oppressors hear not the cries of the rabble
until that rabble beats at the palace doors.
But the cross-current, it is strong. The
Wolverine, she is pulling hard. You can
tell it by the draw of her funnels. She
say, one-two-three. One-two — three, last
one long, senor. Buena! it will bring us
to the tramp again."
"Ship ahoy!" suddenly came from the
watch, and there surged below us a rack
of foam under the grind of the Wolver-
ine's reversed propellers as the ship
swerved sharply from her natural course
to avoid the drifting vessel.
"Take my word before God," whispered
my now excited companion, "I make no
guess. You will find the La Rosa as I
say. The patriots they have carried out
their sworn vow, which they take at the
Inn of the Three Angels at Vera Cruz. In
the dory we cannot miss her, senor. Once
with her on the coast of Peru and the
Liberals are saved. I will-a make you a
commodore and give you gold lace to wear
on your hat. How that?"
I began to laugh. We stood in the deep
shadow, Galvardez with an imploring
hand on my shoulder. Then — perhaps it
was a sudden lurch of the ship, or the vil-
lainous Galvardez himself — the next mo-
ment I shot overboard. We plunged to the
water below with a muffled splash. I
struck out blindly with my hands and
touched the side of the dory, which had
been surreptitiously lowered to the water.
This now I also realized was the work of
374
OVERLAID MOXTHLY.
Galvardez. But I had no time to waste
in wordy wrath. I scrambled into the
rocky boat, and the next moment the little
South American had severed the rope be-
fore I could intercept him. We shot out
from under the counter of the Wolverine
into the open sea.
"I'll choke you for this, you little rag-
tag of a patriot and Greaser!" I cried.
Imagine my greater surprise and wrath
when the fellow, merely shrugging one of
his shoulders, selected a cigar from his
silver hermetic case and lighted it, ex-
haling the smoke through his thin, ex-
panded nostrils. It was maddening.
"Peace, Senor, am I not offering you
wealth and glory? The La Rosa will be
in need of hands to man her. I have taken
a great love for you, of a truth ! It would
have been sad to part. Also you will be
my prisoner — — "
"Glory be damned !" I began.
"You are profane, senor!"
"When we land somewhere I mean to
break your little black head." But wrath
overcame my speech. Besides, the little
South American was leaning back in his
corner of the boat and grinning sardoni-
cally. He had a hellish kind of humor.
I desisted.
"First, senor," he continued, again roll-
ing and licking the cigar, "and which I
consider a wise forethought — your name
is not Waters, as you pretend, and you
care not a pecos for coffee lands in Bra-
zil."
"No?" I asked. "What, then?"
"It is indeed a question of what then,
senor. As I say, you will prove a valu-
able prisoner. I know it since the day
you take passage on the Wolverine."
"Senor Bortilla," I sneered, "liberator
of a pack of numskulls and Indians, so
you did have the sense to fix my true iden-
tity,, eh? Then, who am I?"
"Your proper name, senor, is Henry
Vert Tales, of San Francisco, of New
York — of any old where — and still some
more other places. You are here, and
you are there as occasion demands. You
sell implements of war, such as gun and
canon, which you buy up from government
and factory at junk weight, and dispose
of it to your quarrelsome little neighbors
down in South America at fabulous sums.
These same implements of war you have
been known to ship in closed cases marked
as sewing machines and farming utensils.
You are a cunning race, you Americanos.
Bah! but is Senor Generale Bortilla a
fool? The Liberals they catch the sew-
ing machines alright off the coast one
night, and they never reach their intended
destination. We shall also have Commo-
dore Pellivant's mighty ship, and the war
will be over in Peru. We are little ones
down in South America, senor, but we
sometimes fight with our souls. But the
La Rosa we approach."
The deep war-drum throb of the Wol-
verine had passed into the night, but the
flapping sails of the drifting tramp sound-
ed dangerously near. Again I heard the
weird creaking of halyards, then suddenly
lifted high on the crest of a rolling sea, we
saw the black hulk of the supposedly de-
serted and infected ship bearing down
hard upon us. Crouching in my end of
the boat it was all I could do to retain my
seat. But there in front of me the little
South American sat, calm, imperturbable,
puffing at his black cigar. I say the La
Rosa was bearing down hard upon us, but
I think it was the rattle of her sails which
gave the illusion, for in reality she was
wallowing slovenly and making but a few
knots an hour. It was not until we were
almost under the shadow of her counter
that I saw a pale light gleaming through
one of her port-holes, and in answer to our
shouts, a second appeared just over the
starboard railing, which was followed by
a querulous hail in Spanish, and a beard-
ed, ugly face gleamed sluggishly down at
us under the yellow flame of the lantern
which the man held above his head.
"Amigos, is not this the bonny La
Rosa?" inquired Galvardez with a shout.
The face withdrew cautiously from the
rim of light above, and we heard conver-
sation being carried on in swift monotone,
then another and more authoritative voice
hailed us:
"What your business with the La Rosa,
hombresf You are not ship-wreck. But
even better a ship-wreck than a plague
ship—
''You are not with the plague, liars!"
screeched the little South American. "Do
you know who speaks? I am Generale
Bortillas, the Liberal. Salute, dogs, and
give us lift there — immediatamente!"
WAR AND THE COMMODORE.
375
No sooner had Galvardez gotten this
pompous proclamation out when shouts of
derisive laughted floated down from above,
and I heard the protesting creak of a de-
scending ladder. There was a half dozen
or more grinning faces at the railing now,
and some one said :
"Hail, thou brave one — the mighty
Bortilla !"
The little South American was sputter-
ing in his wrath.
"They think I lie," he said to me. "But
wait — I will have revenge !"
I swung out to the ladder and began to
ascend, Galvardez close behind me. When
I gained the deck a surprising spectacle
greeted my eyes. A girl, arrayed in the
motley gear of a pirate chieftess, appeared
in the ring of smoky light and stood look-
ing down at us with an expression of
amused scorn on her lips.
"What scum of the waters have we here,
Pedro ?" she inquired, lazily, still with her
large eyes fixed on me.
"One calls himself the great Bortilla,
the exile Liberal, and the other is just a
plain Americano we drag from the sea,
senorita."
"And has not the Americano confessed
of shame to be found in such company?"
asked the girl.
"Indeed, senorita, the gentleman, if he
possess his right senses, might deem it
best to say so."
"But it cannot be the real Bortilla/' be-
gan the girl. "But — yes, it is. It is the
same little pock-marked face I saw in
Vera Cruz at the Inn of the Three Angels.
H ombres, you view the little varlet who
would have poisoned the Commodore Pel-
livant and all on board. Drag him into
the presence of the Commodore."
I turned inquiringly to the now bewil-
dered Galvardez, who stood wet and shiv-
ering at my side.
"Amigo," I said, breaking a painful
silence and speaking with some sarcasm,
"it is plain things have not turned out
with you as they should. But I will ex-
plain why I am here with you. I really
am not to blame, you know. These may
prove warm friends of mine, and by all
the sewing machines that were ever made,
I did not know that the Commodore had
a daughter."
"Madre do Dios! nor I," said Galvar-
dez, "but she look much like-a the scullery
boy I bribe at Vera Cruz."
"The very same, no doubt," I respond-
ed. "But these gentlemen are urging us
to proceed. Generale Bortilla, such are
the vicissitudes of war — in South Amer-
ica."
"I will-a have revenge," began Galvar-
dez, when a burly hand was clapped over
his mouth.
In the main cabin below another amaz-
ing sight met my eyes. Sitting at a table
littered with papers, wine glasses, books,
and various brands of cigar stumps, was
a middle aged man with the solemn visage
of a second Don Quixote, who glared fe-
rociously from under a pair of beetling
brows. And as he glared, he twitched
the ends of a long, drooping white mus-
tache with guttural relish.
"Zounds, what have we here, daughter?
You say they were picked up in a boat,
and that one is the exiled Bortilla? Ye
gods ! is this the La Rosa and the deep sea
or a slow train through Arkansas? Is
there no such thing as privacy in this
world? And must I always be disturbed
by the unwelcome visitations of inquisi-
tive rebels and spies ?"
"It is indeed the exile Bortilla himself,
father," said the girl.
"And the other?"
"An Ame: ican, sir/'
"And what':- j*ni ^o^iooa >vich us?"
shouted the Commodore, turning to me.
"I did have a message for you, Commo-
dore," I said, "a most urgent piece of
news, and believing I could overtake the
La Rosa "
The Commodore glared incredulously,
and poured himself a glass of wine which
he drank at a huge gulp.
"Preposterous!" he shouted. "And
your name?"
"Henry Vert Tales, at your service."
"Blood and war! you're the man who
shipped the sewing machines. Hah ! that
was a noble stroke of genius, sir."
"I assure you, it was nothing," I re-
turned blandly.
"And your pretty friend there ?"
"Excuse me, I don't know him. He it
was who pulled me from the Wblverine,
and being that the La Rosa was the handi-
est thing about, I was of course happy to
board her even in company with our il-
376
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
lustrious general here, the Senor Bortilla."
"And he's one black rascal !" shouted
the Commodore from behind the table.
"But his cunning, sir, like his patriotism,
lacked the proper ballast. My daughter,
sir, in order to embark with me on this
perilous cruise, and knowing that I would
not hear to it, disguised herself as the
scullery lad and shipped as such. And it
was the villainous Bortilla who tried to
bribe my own daughter, child of my flesh,
to poison this saintly crew and her old-
age stricken dad. But it is well she de-
ceived us all, for she saved us from poi-
soned pottage, colic, and perhaps a watery
grave at the hands of a varlet cook. But
sit down, man, and have a glass of this
blown-in-the-bottle-hell-and-fury which I
purchased for a song at the docks o'
'Frisco. And the scoundrel Bortilla — to
the hold with him, lads. Mr. Tales, my
daughter."
I turned and bowed to the girl.
"Mr. Tales, here's to peace and a vine-
covered cottage, to an ingle nook, sir, and
a Morris chair. The glamour of war, sir,
in time will rot a man's soul."
"These are strange words for a commo-
dore and a soldier," I replied with a great
show of surprise. "But I heartily second
the toast. Commodore, here's how !"
After that, the Commodore Pellivant
twisted the ends of his long mustache and
stared gloomily into his empty glass.
"The glory of Mars is a thing of the
past," he finally said in guttural reminis-
cence, "and war in South America is vau-
deville. In Africa, in the Delhi, in the
bush of South Australia, I spent my youth
— I wielded an honorable sword, fought
many an honest battle, and went without
food or drink for twenty-four hours at a
time ! Egad, that is true. And now here
T am in a plush-lined, nickel-plated, bomb-
proof battleship, taking pot shots at some
frantic greasers. As the pseudo battle
rages, sir, T shin along a glossy deck and
pike through a pair of Tiffany opera-,
glasses landward. T see some nagers run-
ning up and down the sands, dragging a
little old canon which once adorned the
palace top of the villainous Pizzaro in the
sixteenth century, and they ram her up,
and — bang! here comes their little shell
skimming coquettish-like over the water.
Sir, I look again through the Tiffany
opera glasses. I hear cheering, sir, loud
vivas, and see exuberant faces. Wrath
consumes me, and I yell 'B'lay down
there !' and — bang- whack ! the La Rosa
retaliates. The war is over; we lower the
flag ^t half-mast in honor of the brave
dead. War is hell, sir, and fate is more
unkind. Do you happen to know where
Peru lies ? We could touch her coast with-
in eighteen hours, but that the Commo-
dore Pellivant will never do. Will I so
desecrate the altar of Mars? Can I for-
get the glory of the past? Never! Let
those capitalists at Washington fume; let
them call me traitor and coward. Let
the Liberals do their worst. Faith! now
that I think of it, I have nothing against
the Liberals. I am a free man myself,
free as the air I breathe. The Liberals,
they are mostly nagers of course, but who
can say they are not in the right. Sir,
I am heading for the South Pacific
Islands. This is my ship. I'll take on a
cargo and be a disgraced merchantman."
And with that the Comodore Pellivant
drank more wine and twisted the ends of
his drooping mustache.
"But I have no business in the South
Pacific Islands," I made protest with
some alarm. "My — interests lie else-
where."
"Silence, sir!" shouted the commodore.
"Every man jack and scallawag on board
the La Rosa must reform and take up a
legitimate trade. I won't be burdened
with their sins. And my daughter — do
you think for a moment, sir, I mean to
imperil her precious life on the Peruvian
Coast? No!"
"It wouldn't be like a father," I ac-
knowledged with rising enthusiasm.
"You are correct, sir. I mean for her
to live and enjoy the fruits of my former
toils. She wants pretty gowns and pink
sunshades like the other young females of
her age, and, egad, she'll have 'em, sir.
And she'll have her beaux, if she
wants —
"Commodore Pellivant," I exclaimed
with sudden inspiration, "you are entirely
right — absolutely," and I filled my glass
again. "What will it be — to your daugh-
ter?"
"Why not?" said the Commodore Pelli-
vant, frowning heavily.
"Then it is to your daughter, and God
TO A WILD EOSE.
37V
bless all the ladies that are like her and ful Zealand, and he'll be made to work for
curse him to whom avarice and war are an honest living. He'd make a good bar-
sweeter than her smiles."
• "Ditto!" roared the Commodore Pelli-
vant.
"And what will you do with the Senor
Bortilla?" I asked.
ber."
"One word more, Commodore."
"Speak."
"Don't tell the poor fellow now — the
shock might kill him.
"Sir, I'll banish him in far and peace- And we drank again.
TO A WlCD ROSE
BY
FLORENCE SLACK CRAWFORD
Dear dainty flower, a silent message thou
To one who hears; and as for me
I am overwhelmed as I behold
Thy purity, thy grace, thy tender petals
Upturned to sun,
So vast the truth that springs from thee!
To thee, it is enough that thou art so,
Who would call thee less than what thou art,
A rose — pure being, emblem of the Truth
Which ever springs from out the soul
To write in earth
Its picture, first formed in the heart?
Full-free thou growest in thy humble place
NOT carest who thy neighbor chance may be,
Thy soul wide-open to the Universal Truth.
Thy body springs forth unresistingly
In beauteous form,
So gladdening all who pause to see.
And what carest thou who stoops to kiss
Thee as they pass — or who goes by
Failing to notice or to bless thee in thy place?
Thy work well done — thou art content
To be a rose
And waft thy fragrance to the sky.
MME. K.M.MA TRENTIXI, MANHATTAN OPERA HOL'SE, NEW YORK.
DRAMATICS
THE NEW WORLD OF THE PLAY
BY JULIAN JOHNSON
ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS.
HAT WILL BE the
most interesting fea-
ture in America dur-
ing the next decade?
That is a question to
which there are many
plausible answers, but
it is safe to say that
no phase of progress will so chain the at-
tention of Pacific Coast people as that
revolution from Eastern tyranny, that vir-
tual declaration of independence, that for-
ward movement into an undiscovered
country which is almost upon us.
The Coast is destined soon to become a
new and attention-compelling center of
dramatic life.
The Coast theatre has progressed in
tremendous bounds. Benisoned parsimo-
niously with only such productions as
must travel Westward to continue their
profits, our leading cities have nevertheless
returned each year enormous gains to the
New York producer's coffers. Like the
dogs under the rich man's table, we have
snatched each falling morsel, and that
with humble gratitude. But the new day
is dawning. Keen theatrical men feel its
certain approach, and although they do
not speak of it voluntarily, they admit it
as an imminent possibility.
The theatre-goer, the man who pays
the amusement freight, has hoped silently
for such a consummation. And yet, so
rigorous is the rule of habit, so fast are
the shackles of other mastership, that few
people, outside the Western playmakers
and play-producers, have sensed the im-
pending revolution.
Within the next ten years this great
West, the mightiest and most resourceful
part of America after all, will be writing a
great part of its own plays, raising and
training its own actors, composing its own
music, and even sending its productions
abroad. By that I do not mean that we
shall have isolated ourselves completely;
far from it, but I do insist that we shall
have achieved our independence, and that
when we take plays and people from afar,
we will choose; we shall not be compelled
to accept.
New York is in just that position now.
Once, while her business was growing and
her arts were embryotic, nothing was fit
for refined people to hear or see unless it
bore the foreign stamp. Now, while she
makes her own plays, and sends them to
the four points of the compass, she has
not ceased to import, to adapt and recon-
struct the emanations of foreign genius.
Instantly the question arises, if our
West is to obtain such liberty, why has not
the Middle West, far more developed,
holding far more people, exuding far more
wealth, why has not this mighty central
district triumphed before us ?
The national map supplies an immedi-
ate answer. The Middle West is easily
accessible to New York and the producing
centers of the East. Its conditions are
quite comparable to the Atlantic situa-
tions. In fact, considering the wonderful
expansion of American enterprise during
the past few years, it is itself the East —
merely in extension.
But bridgeless distance separates Cali-
fornia from Illinois, and even as the popu-
lation of the country increases, the aliena-
tion becomes more hopeless. It can be
shown that the thicker the "stands" be-
come, the more desperate is our situation
to become, if we of the slope are to depend
forever upon Broadway for our best stage
entertainment. To-day it is a somewhat
hazardous thing for a very large organi-
380
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
zation to undertake the grand tour from
Chicago to Los Angeles, to Portland, and
back again. There is a desert of evapo-
rated profits to be crossed, and if the books
do not show a substantial balance at the
end of the season, it is a long time before
the star or the "big troupe" will go that
way again. And the really great successes
need not come West at all. Such a piece
goes the round of the East and Middle
West, and when it is completed, with its
long stops, it can make the circuit again.
The worthy offering can play itself com-
pletely out — and the featured actor, too —
between Chicago and New York. "Peter
Pan," two years old, has just come across
the Great Divide. Belasco's now-famous
"Girl of the Golden West" has not even
started for the Coast, and kindergarten
kidlets of to-day were not yet born when
its first curtain rose.
This Eastern prosperity, while not
falsely overestimated by such astute He-
brew business men as Marc Klaw and Ab-
raham Erlanger, has bred a flippancy and
contempt for everything beyond the Mis-
sissippi in the minds of practically all
their underlings.
A few months ago I remonstrated — in
a syndicate office — with one of the tail-
wagging puppies sent West with an in-
ferior but high-priced edition of George
Cohan's foolishness. This It, swelling to
the full of his bantam height, replied
medodramatically, "Sir, the West ought
to get down on its knees and thank us for
sending anything. We are not- compelled
to play anything west of the Missouri
Elver. We are merely courteous to you.
We send you all we can afford, and then
you dare insult us!" Such contemptible
speeches illustrate only too well the grow-
ing disdain of the Eastern small fry for
anybody or anything groveling obscurely
farther West than the Great Lakes.
And yet, it is merely a hard business
proposition that underlies all these patron-
izing manifestations. The play is not like
the book. The author, bound up complete
for a dollar and a half, is purchasable in
Tacoma just as easily as in Boston. Post-
age and expressage are reasonable, and
the summer sands of the Pacific are lit-
tered with the newest literature of the
world. But with the acted play — how
different! The huge salary list of the
principals, the fat stipend to "support"-
and every critical observer must admit
that the average American actor is paid
too much — the enormous railroad fare
the hotel bills, the taking down and settir _
up of expensive productions, all add to a
bill that has a cruel total. To-day the
well-known player who needs three
months' additional business is forced to
the Coast. In ten years the surging tide
of life to our side of the Mississippi will
have provided him with patrons galore in
Missouri, Kansas, Nebraska and Colorado.
And he will stop at Denver. Relatively,
therefore, our situation will not improve.
The Pacific Coast is peopled from Can-
ada to Mexico with intelligent and dis-
criminating men and women, and it is a
fact recognized by all agents and travel-
ing managers that theatre patronage here
is as critical, as discriminating and as ap-
preciative as that at the rank and file of
"Broadway productions." The Slope is
harder to please than any other provincial
district of the United States.
That the seeds of complete Western dra-
matic independence have already been
sown, and that they have taken solid root,
is evidenced by the interesting develop-
ments of the past three years. The first
testimony is in the astonishing excellence
of the peculiarly Western stock company.
I mean stock as evidenced by the average
work of George Baker in Portland, Be-
lasco or Morosco in Los Angeles, and Be-
lasco in San Francisco. It is an admitted
fact that these men have furnished the
finest stock performances- in the United
States for several seasons. To witness the
best of these presentations, and then to
go East, even to New York, and attend
a play by one of the alleged stock com-
panies there, is to behold a hybrid that is
a cross between serious farce and comic
tragedy. These companies, in the cities
mentioned, have handled new plays, fre-
quently on a week's notice, at "popular"
prices, and have given productions that
would put traveling syndicate productions
of the same into complete dismay.
It will not be long before the West will
have its own grand opera. It is the only
way in which we can ever hope to hear
masterpieces satisfactorily, for two-day,
bi-yearly visits of Conried, at the fag end
of the season, where casts are cut and top-
DEAMATICS.
jk'h prices charged, with mountings that
UouM disgrace a ten-cent theatre, can
Ipver be a mainstay to real musical art in
by community.
I An Italian opera company was organ-
led in California last year, although some
I its productions were poor and several
achievement, it will at least be the only
foreign-made aggregation imported by
American enterprise outside of the coun-
try's bigsrest city.
Nat Goodwin, whose beautiful new
home at Ocean Park, California, is to be
his permanent residence, said to me some
ELSIE JANIS.
of the singers hopelessly incapable, it was
the nucleus of better things. To-day, an-
other company is being formed, directly
in Milan. It has a roster of several fam-
ous artists, and will be brought from Italy
flircot to the Pacific Coast. While its at-
temps may fall short of Metropolitan
weeks ago : "This Coast is to-day the most
wonderful part of the United States. It is
destined to become the resort of the nation
and its promise in the theatrical line is as
great as its prospect of material develop-
ment. That's why I am here to live. Some
day I can say proudly to others of my pro-
382
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
fession : 'I preceded you all ; I saw it first ;
I was the Pacific advance guard !' *
Henry Russell, creator of the San Carlo
opera, saw the Coast possibilities last sea-
son, and brought his splendid organization
here to the biggest business of its whole
comparative love of real music. The San
Carlo company, containing the great tenor
Canstantino, Mme. Lillian Nordica, Alice
Neilsen, and numerous other celebrities,
was very loth to leave the pleasant Pacific
breezes. Mr. Ihissell said to the writer:
KI.KAXOR ROBSON AS "MERELY MARY
season, although it traveled from New Or-
leans to Chicago, and from Los Angeles
to Boston. A single matinee in San Fran-
cisco to a gross of $7,000, as against two
performances in PortlandT Me., to a gross
of $500, speaks in factful figures of the
"The most wonderful musical develop-
ment of the coming America, the artistic
America, will be upon the Pacific Slope.
There is a spontaneous response from the
Wtest, a call of kin, as it were, that the ar-
tist? do not feel elsewhere. Believe me,
DRAMATICS.
383
1 the West is soon to create for herself, some
of the great singing organizations of the
world/'
In the not far distant future I believe
we will be making our own plays. What
personal appeal is there in the multitude
of importations that are flung like a sop to
our souls from the over-flowing bowl of
Finero and Eostand should be observed if
we are to regard ourselves as fully culti-
vated, but I do protest against the placid
acceptance, in all times and at all places,
of these alien indigestibles. Progress has
ever been the watchword of the West, and
by the dauntless spirits of the pioneers >
there is Progress on the wind to-day.
IIKMUKTTA GROSSMAN IN "ALL-OF-A -SUDDEN PEGGY/
intellect — or stupidity — in the East?
Here we are, in the country of wide spaces
and wider thoughts, sitting to namby-
pamby problems of London or the worn-
out puerilities of Paris. I do not dis-
claim that these may have a momentary
interest ; 1 do not deny that Jones ami
There is the unrest that precedes an intel-
lectual revolution.
The coming Western play will not deal
with cowboy hats, six-shooters, lariats and
bad Indians. That species of frontier
drama may be relegated to Broadway. Foi
us, the real West, the West which build?
384
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
railroads in a week or battleships in half
a year, the West which is hotly fighting a
foreign invasion, the West whose empire-
deserts are waking to the touch of life, the
West where hearts are human, and where
minds rise to creative originality unham-
pered by narrowness of bound or the
stifling confines of formal environment.
Here is the future battleground of Amer-
ica. Here will be the struggles of indus-
trial and intellectual freedom. The future
political arena is here. The disputes of
justice will resound in Western halls. The
rivalry of commerce will rush on Western
seas and coastwise lands. The nation in
its playtime will flock to the southern
shore.
As for actors, half the big ones in the
country to-day, who claim native parent-
age, had their genesis in Sunsetland.
The era of Western independence wil
only increase the value of importatior
when we want them. To-day the export-
ing theatrical wholesaler of the East
knows that his Pacific patrons have no
other source of call. They must have pro-
duction, for they are constant theatre
attendants. If his wares are not accepted
then they will have no wares of any de
scription.
But when the West says to the East, "1
am not buying nor begging; I am trading ',
I am as good as you, and you need me as I
need you" — then the force of competition
will double the intrinsic value of the pro-
duct offered.
The bright day of our intellectual
drama is approaching, for more than any
other locality or even any other country,
our West is the New World of the play.
EL CAMINO REAL
BY
M. TINGLE
Full many leagues, in sinuous curves it lies
'Cross sands where buried rest old memories sweet,
Of half-forgotten days when sandaled feet
Trod there on mission brave. The warm light dies
Amid the tangled weeds from whence arise
M>ute voices vocal with a tale replete
With life's primordial forces ere effete
And more ignoble forms stalked in disguise.
But whether by the 'strand where sea-gulls call;
Or deep in sunless recess of the wood;
(And where, perchance, some prayer-rapt padre stood) ;
On slopes where vagrant poppies spill their gold;
Or yet within the desert's hungry hold,
The trail of the brown robe lies over all.
THE TOWN WITH A DEFINITE
DESTINY OF INDUSTRIAL
GREATNESS •: : :
WHERE THE ORIENT MEETS THE
OCCIDENT
BY HAL JACKSON
Early in the roman-
tic history of Califor-
nia, even before the
forefathers of the
American Republic
were engaged in their
seemingly hope less
struggle for independ-
ence, a band of de-
voted padres had es-
tablished the historic
Mission San Jose, on
the bay of San Fran-
cisco, near the thriv-
ing city of Newark,
about half way be-
tween Oakland and
San Jose.
It was the likeliest
spot upon all that in-
land waterway, our
great San Francisco
harbor, which, with
THORNTON AVENUE BOULEVARD.
its vast capacity to
hold the assembled
fleets of all nations,
stands out to-day as
one of the four finest
harbors of the world,
and is conspicuous up-
on the Pacific Coast
where a steep and
rocky shore forbids
shipping to all but a
few favored localities.
For generations, the
Mission San Jose was
the seat of civilization
upon the magic Bay
of San Francisco. The
Mission was prosper-
ous. A hundred acol-
ytes served under the
sainted padres there.
Thousands of humble
Mission Indians culti-
386
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
PRIVATE RESIDENCE — NEWARK.
vated their fat crops or tended the sleek
herds under the fatherly eyes of the holy
friars. The land was rich and black as
Canaan. The climate was mild and
balmy, but inspiriting.
For those who later came overland from
the rich interior valleys of California or
up through the interior from Los Angeles,
Mission San Jose was the natural trade
center. It was the natural shipping point
of the continental side of San Francisco
Bay. Here most easily could the produce
of the interior, the hides of the vast herds
and all the wealth of a country rich al-
most beyond the dreams of avarice be
transferred to ocean-going craft via the
convenient deep water harbor and natural
wharfage close to the Mission, known as
Dumbarton Point.
With the secularization of the Califor-
nia Missions whereby their charge was
taken from the religious orders and placed
under the parish priests, the religions that
had fostered San Jose Mission fell a\vay.
The Mission San Jose was sold at auction
in 1846, just as was San Eafael Mission,
and thus to-day little vestige remains of
the once prosperous mission, except an oL
adobe now on the grounds of the Domini-
can Sisters, and the ancient cemetery sti
in use. From 1833 to 1842, Father Go
zales Rubio, who was ecclesiastical admin-
istrator of California at the time of the
arrival of the Most Reverend T. S.
many, our first bishop, had charge he:
To-day the wonderful region in which,
with rare presience, the old Spanish p,
ties established the first civilization up
San Francisco Bay, is developing into
industrial center of the bay region.
. NEWARK HOTEL AND POST OFFICE.
PARK HOTEL, NEWARK.
same attributes which generations ago a
pealed to the padres to-day appeal to the
manufacturer, business man, home-seeker
and investor. The city of Newark, which
will be the great manufacturing distric'
of the entire bay region, is located no
very far from the old Mission San Jo
and at the approach of the great Dumbar
ton cut-off, where both George Gould'i
trans-continental line, the Western Pacific
Railway, and also the Southern Pacific
Railway, will cross the lower arm of San
Francisco bay and so enter the city of
San Francisco without the long transpor-
tation by ferry across the bay.
The city of Newark is becoming to San
Francisco what Newark, New Jersey, is to
New York, and, as a matter of fact. \v;is
actually planned and laid out by Newark,
N. J., people, many of the streets bearing
fche dame name. It possesses a definite
WHERE THE ORIENT MEETS THE OCCIDENT
387
Id assured industrial and commercial
Iture. In the first place, it offers abso-
•ely the only stretches of available level
Ipd close to deep water on the entire bay
•bion.
||San Francisco proper is now crowded
Ip wharfage, and almost every day com-
]:nnts may be read in San Francisco
I ily newspapers of the inadequacy of our
Idustrial and transportation facilities.
it Xowark, a suburb of the greater San
trancisco, possesses suvh opportunities in
[mndance, and is being directly connected
I rail with San Francisco.
Tin1 city of Newark offers the greatest
• ;>portunities to-day for the advance in
lie price of land of any community about
|e bay. Already it has become an in-
[istrial town of importance, and people
|e flocking there, despite the fact that no
pecial inducements have been used to ad-
tonce its exceptional attractions.
L'LAXIXG MILL, CALIFORNIA TIMBER CO.
NEWARK.
The climate is very fine, being about
en degrees warmer than San Francisco.
The view of the nearby mountains is su-
erb. The school facilities are unsui--
)assed. The region round about is fam-
>us for its fruits and vegetables, and the
and is high and dry. Every Sunday you
vill see hundreds and hundreds of auto-
nobiles going through Newark, for ilie
oads on the Newark side of the bay are
s level as billiard tables, and in fact are
imong the best in the State.
Added to the natural advantages is the
;iiit Newark is the trans-continental
railroad terminal of the State of Califor-
nia for the Southern Pacific and the
STREET GRADING OUTPUT IN OPERATION
AT NEWARK
Western Pacific railroads. The great
bridge across the Dumbarton cut-off is a
Union bridge, and under Act of Congress
it is open to all railroads, whether steam
or electric. In the future railroad build-
ing, therefore, Newark will be favored by
such other trans-continental lines as will
seek to enter San Francisco by the short-
est and easiest route, avoiding tedious and
expensive water transportation across thf
bay. At Newark these transcontinental
trains, with their rich freight for all por-
tions of the Pacific Coast, and for the
teeming Orient, will be enabled to dis-
charge their cargoes directly into ocean-
going craft, and vice versa. Vessels from
the Orient will find ample dock facilities
whereby they may be discharged directly
into waiting freight trains.
Oriental commerce alone will make of
Newark a vast metropolis. This claim
may seem preposterous to those who do
not realize that the world is growing as
fast in the Orient as elsewhere. In the
Orient are fourteen hundred millions of
H. L. MIDDLETON FOUNDRY.
388
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
people who are rapidly grasping our new
scheme of life. The imperial Government
at Pekin, China, is building two hundred
million dollars worth of railway.
In the Philippines, a thousand miles
of new railway lines are under way. A
great fleet of American battleships is
headed toward the Pacific Coast. Our
commerce is growing by leaps and bounds.
With the exception of Seattle, Newark
is the only city on the Pacific Coast offer-
ing to Oriental commerce ample shipping
facilities, deep water and the stimulus of
two competing railways. But while in
many places factory land is held at fabu-
lous prices, yet in Newark there is an
abundance of suitable land that may be
had at most moderate and reasonable
rates.
Senator Fair, one of California's most
famous statesmen, was among the first
to appreciate the magnificent industrial
possibilities of Newark. More than
thirty years ago he dreamed of making
Newark the terminus of a trans-conti-
nental route. With this idea, he mapped
out the future industrial center and se-
cured control of 4,000 acres of land. He
built the Dumbarton ferries, and the Nar-
row Gauge railroad to Newark, making it
the terminus. However, the city of Oak-
land refused Senator Fair the privilege
of running railroad tracks on its streets,
and the dreams of the trans-continental
route vanished when Senator Fair, dis-
couraged, sold out to the Southern Pacific.
For thirty years the thousands of acres
of land in and about Newark have been
tied up in the Fair estate, and consequent-
ly not open to the public; now, however,
the well-known Pacific Land and Invest-
ment Company, which was organized in
May, 1876, and in which some of the
wealthiest men of thf. Pacific Slope are
stock-holders, has been re-organized and is
offering a portion of this land for sale.
A wonderful utw ers has come over the
entire district since the beginning of thu
large operations of the Pacific Land and
Investment Company, the Western Pacific
"Railway and the Southern Pacific Com-
pany. Houses and factories are spring-
ing up as in a night. Niles, Haywards,
Alvarado, Dumbarton Point, Pleasanton
and other communities are stirring with
the touch of progress and adding hun-
dreds each month to their population.
These cities are all feeders to Newark,
through which three distinct lines of
railroads are passing.
Among the present factories of Newark
are the James Graham Stove Foundry,
which each day turns out completed sixty
famous Wedgewood stoves, and is he
largest of its kind in the State. The Mid-
dleton Foundry, which turns plumbers'
supplies, the California Timber Company
and many others.
Newark presents especial advantages to
homeseekers. It is only twenty-nine miles
from San Francisco with six trains daily
and more coming. It offers low taxes and
insurance rates, while the climate is much
healthier than San Francisco, -and by rea-
son of the great cut-off it is close to the
great Stanford University, should parents
desire to send their children there after
graduating from the local high school
The church edifices at Newark are es-
pecially fine, and the people are more ac-
tive in church than most fast-growing
towns. At the present time, town lots
villa lots and business lots can be boughi
as low as two hundred and seventy-fiw
dollars for fifty feet.
The Pacific Land Investment Company
is building for the future. The company
has been interested in Newark for thirty
years, and expects to be interested for a
generation more. For this reason the
Pacific Land Investment Company is anx-
ious to secure desirable and progressive
settlers who, by their industry, will be en-
abled to share in the great prosperity o1
Newark. Wherefore, the company offers
terms that are difficult to be resisted by
any one who is visiting Newark. Land is
sold without interest and taxes, or ten per
cent cash, with the balance in payments
of five per cent per month. The lots, too,
are three or four times the size of the
average city lots.
Newark, by reason of its situation, is
certain to be the great industrial and
manufacturing center of the entire bay re-
gion. We ask our readers to glance at the
map, which will certainly confirm their
high opinion as to the economic advan-
tages of Newark.
The city is favored not only by reason
of its natural advantages, but by millions
of wealth that will be deposited in th«
390
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
trans-shipment of a vast overland com-
merce to the ships of the world. The fu-
ture of Newark is absolutely assured.
There is a great opportunity for retail
stores of all kinds to supply the needs of
the increasing population. To the manu-
facturer, on the other hand, Newark offers
cheap factory sites, a plentitude of elec-
tric power and an abundance of raw ma-
terial, together with the best system of
land and water transportation on the
Pacific Slope.
Last, but not least, it must be borne in
mind that these great systems that come
to deep water at Newark are competing
systems, and that water transportation has
always been, and always will be, the re-
ducer of freight rates. The vast wealth of
the rich back country, with its millions of
acres of fertile farm, vast timber and rich
mineral lands to be opened up by the
Western Pacific, will naturally flow int
Newark, for here the line first meets dee'
water transportation. Round about New
ark is the richest dairying, fruit and grai:
country in California.
Not long ago, a writer on the staff o
the Overland Monthly was talking witl
Mr. Charles Schlessinger, of 779 Marke
street. San Francisco, President of th
Pacific Land and Investment Company
relative to the future development oj
Newark.
"I think Newark will be the big manuj
facturing town of the Pacific Coast. Coulj
the old padres who first selected this
gion, not only as the most convenient, b
as the most attractive when they fir
came to San Francisco Bay, come here t
day, or in, say, a year from now, th
would witness a civilization that wou
excel their greatest anticipations."
SEVEN CENTURY PLANTS IN BLOOM AT NEWARK
IN FRONT OF PARK HOTEL.
MONTEREY WAKES UP
BY
FTEK sixty-one years of
peaceful slumber, the
first capital of the
great State of Califor-
nia has aroused her-
self.
Forty years .of this
time she has been
in the wilderness age of dreams, while per-
sistent, honest, old David Jacks had a
barberl-wire fence around the best part of
her domain in the shape of a long suit
against the United States Government to
clear a Mexican title. Finally winning
this historic legal contest about a year ago,
the Honorable David Jacks agreed to let
enterprising men survey, split up and
mark off habitable parts of the surround-
ing real estate, so that live people can
now come in, build modern homes and
modern business houses, new public tem-
ples of commerce, education and religion,
thereby making a delightful and beautiful
city of the Bride of the Bay.
Glance a moment at the names of the
men under whose administration the City
of Monterey has caught the spirit of live-
ly but solid progress, and who are working
the transformation scene from that of a
country town into a great city. They are
as follows: Mayor, William Jacks; trus-
tees. Harry J. Schaufele, Charles G.
White, M. B. Steadman, A. G. Metz ; City
Clerk, W. E. Parker; Treasurer, L. A.
Schaufele; City Attorney, E. H. Willey;
Marshal, Frank Machado; Engineer, W.
D. Severance.
Undoubtedly, the irresistible forces of
railroad building has much to do with the
present growth of Monterey; and this as-
pect, this unseen tide, this undercurrent,
is now stirring men's brains as < well as
their bank accounts.
Xo sane man needs two or three pairs of
spectacles to see that Monterey and the
DAVIS
bay is the natural outlet for the immense
variety and quantity of products of the
Southern Santa Clara Valley, the Salinas
Valley and the San Joaquin Valley; and
Nature's magnets and attractions cannot
be denied.
Monterey is now the cheese, as with the
old fable of the two quarreling cats, with
a monkey for the judge — worth repeating
here. Said the monkey, after watching
the quarrel for some time : "Since you
cannot agree, I'll eat the whole thing my-
self," and he crammed the cheese into hi*
mouth. "Hold, hold !" cried the cats.
"Give each of us a share and we will be
content."
In the case of Monterey, there are more
than two cats. The Southern Pacific has
been at the cheese for some time. Any
one who does not know the character, re-
sources and standing of this company of
heroic gentlemen had better move forward
from the oblivion of the Dark Ages of
California railroad building into the in-
telligence of modern civilization.
The San Joaquin and the Ocean Shore
routes are also at the cheese, under what-
ever auspices, and it must be noted that
one large real estate and railroad syndi-
cate of San Francisco has done two or
three things during the past summer. This
syndicate has put together the largest sub-
divided business and home real estate
tracts bordering on Monterey Bay, has
taken under its wing some coal and min-
eral fields, both in Monterey and also in
Fresno Counties, and is now actively en-
gaged in preliminary work of connecting
these necessan?' supports of successful rail-
road operation by electric street and sub-
urban and longer steam lines.
Some real progress and good work that
has been clone shows in the old Monterey,
Fresno and Eastern. It has been enliv-
ened, is now still alive, and with the feed
392
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
that has been given to it this summer, will
be as hard to kill as any other creature
with nine lives. It also has some claws on
the cheese. Its assets, casually stated, in-
clude the property of the Watsonville
Transportation Co., six miles of electric
railway, with adjoining land; valuable
franchises at Monterey and Hollister, with
rights of way, surveys, maps and prelimi-
nary work already done.
That it will be built and in successful
operation at no distant date, either on its
own account or with the aid of some
others, is a foregone conclusion. The rail-
road bears, as the first word of its cog-
nomen, the name of Monterey — this fam-
ous old, but re-invigorated and waked-up
city — so a sentence about the present
management of this railroad and the capi-
tal behind it is appropriate.
Representing constructive and operat«
ing resources, which have built and are
running other railroads, are a number of
well-known gentlemen of experience and
ability.
Conclusively, with the Southern Pacific
and the lesser lines, with the real estate
men — all of these forces now very active
about the Bay — Monterey has truly waked
up.
STRIKING OIL
MONTEREY
BY
WASHIKGTOK DAVIS
ILLUSTRATED WITH DIAGRAMS.
HEY WERE not boring
for oil, but wanted
water and were deter-
mined to get it, even
though they had to
bore half way through
the earth ; yet the oil
would seep in through
the crevices and sand and spoil the aqua
pura, from which the gas bubbles would
keep on coming out, making the liquid
unfit for household purposes, and a
bucketful of this "troubled water," stand-
ing over night, would have a thin surface
of oil on it in the morning.
Some feet deeper, the oil seepage
amounted to about two barrels per day,
but the Monterey ans wanted good, clear,
sparkling water, so the oil strata was
cased out, and the boring went on until
the diggers found what they were after,
well knuwmg that these famous old hills
about Monterey Bay conceal all kinds of
nature's treasures, to be had for the dig-
ging. They got fine water after going
through the oil strata.
The well where this happened is orly
two and three-quarters mile:, from the old
custom house where Commodore Sloat
raised the 'American flag in 1846 and
took California away from Mexico. Oilier
wells are being sunk.
Interesting, indeed, have these dull old
rocks, hills and vales become all of a sud-
den, now that they touch and fatten up
men's pocket-books. Let us bore down
two or three hundred feet and see what
is under us — this time for oil, not water,
first looking at the relief map of Califor-
nia, and comparing this locality with that
of other oil fields in the State now yield-
ing unlimited quantities.
As will be seen from the relief map, the
topography and the geological formation
about Coalinga are similar to the area
closely surrounding Monterey City. The
strata on this side of the range is almost
identically the same. From Coalinga a
pipe line 111.10 miles long now carries
oil night and day to a wharf on Monterey
Bay. Near the source of this pipe line
are various mineral springs; within one-
half mile of Monterey Bay are thi same
kind of springs, at various places are the
same oil-bearing strata, .li'id a few hun-
dred feet out from the beach, just i few
fathoms down from the surface of the
water, are croppings of a ledge of a?phdl-
tum and kindred substances, pieces of
which are occasionally washed out up >n
Monterey Beach.
Under the direction of Dr. John C.
Branner, Professor of Geology at Stan-
ford University, the experimentalists of
the U. S. Department of Agriculture,
while investigating irrigation matteis in
California, made a report (Bulletin 100,
pp. 208 et seq] on the various formations
of Monterey County, from which I take a
brief extract only to illustrate and- de-
termine the character of the earth through
which the new wells near Monterey City
are now being bored.
The best authority known at present is
this report, which says:
"At Barrett's oil well, in the southwest
quarter sec. 31, T. 22 S., R. 14 E. (Mon-
terey County), a large quantity of water
was encountered in a bed of granitic sand
at a depth of about 300 feet below the
surface. (See Figure 7 .)
« # # * rphg distinguishing features
of this terrace formation are the rather
flat-topped hills (nearly all of which are
in the same general plane), the large
quantity of shale pebbles in the gravel
beds, and the capping of rather loose
sandstone containing enough lime to
whiten it. These overlying limy sand
beds occur at nearly all the places where
the terrace formation was observed.
"On the western side of Salinas Valley
from the south boundary of Monterey
County to near Paraiso Springs, the rock
in place is shale. * * *
"In a cut on the Southern Pacific Rail-
Conglomerate
Sandstone
Fossiliferous Sandstone
Gravel
Lignite
Sandy Soil
Fig. 5.— Conventional signs used in illustrating report on Salinas river.
road about two miles northwest of Brad-
ley, there is a good exposure of some cf
the beds of the terrace in an anticline.''
(See Fig. 8.)
Now, this identical formation is found
in the crescent basin around Monterey
City.
S.W.
N.E.
Fig. 7. — Sand and shale beds passed through by
Barrett's oil well in southwest qu arter section
31, T. 22 S., R. 14 E.
One well that was put down over 200
feet for water went through the follow-
ing strata :
First 60 feet, sandstone; next 40 feet-
brown oil sand ; next 30 feet mixed ser-
pentine sandstone, and apparently beach
sand; next 10 feet gray fossil sand stone
and shale; next 46 feet mixed sandstone
and shale, with fossils all the way down.
At the bottom of this well the sand was
getting oily again, and the strata getting
so soft that the well was cemented to pre-
vent the oil seepage into the water. This
was at a depth of 256 feet.
Another well only 72 feet deep shows
about 35 feet of bituminous shale so oily
that it will burn. The gas arising from
the water in this well and seven other
wells in this immediate vicinity, together
with the impregnation of oil, make the
water unfit for household purposes.
All of these wells are within three miles
of the old Customs House and about one
mile east and southeast of the Del Monte
Hotel.
The depression and level lands and hills
in this locality are known as Vista Del
Key and Del Monte Heights.
These low, flat-topped hills surround-
ing and adjacent to the depression, are
identical with the formation described in
Bulletin No. 100 of the U. S. Government
report on Monterey County, and the
strata beneath for a depth of at least 256
feet is the same.
A number of Monterey's leading busi-
ness men are combining to develop the oil
industry around the bay, where the mag-
nificent shipping facilities challenge com-
petition from any part of the world.
Fig. 8. — Northern slope of anticline cut by railroad two miles northwest of Bradley. The
thin seam of lignite has gypsum mixed with it. The fossils are limpets, turritellas, and various
clam and oyster shells. :
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
Ix
.ARS' SOAP
.n Indian crystal gazer or any close observer will tell
'ou that the secret of a clear, healthy skin is in a con-
tant use of Pears' Soap— also that Pears' will show you
low good a complexion nature intended you to have.
OF ALL SCENTED SOAPS PEARS' OTTO OF ROSE IS THE BEST.
" All rights secured."
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
FRED'K B. VOLZ
MRS. HELEN FREESE
Volz & Freese
Importers of works of art,
Present some odd, quaint and
beautiful things from the art
centers of the world: Original
Oil Paintings, Ivory, Miniature
Curved Ivory, Art Furniture,
Bric-a-Brac, Curios, Bronzes,
Statuary, Old Capo Di Monte,
Antique Rouen, Chelsea,
Lowestoft, Bristol, Etc., with
prices that are attractive.
An exceptional opportunity for wedding pretenti
947-949 Van Ness Avenue
Telephone 2917 FRANKLIN
GOODFORM EQUIPMENTS
r. ?~y TROUSERS yt/H ANGER «
SHOE <%$) RAIL NO. 27-25c. ff&afSA C0ATJHANGER
^TROUSERS BHANGER
NO. 21-35C.
NO. 2O-15c.
NO. 32-25C. NO- 41-35C.
* ^'*
GOODFORM'
'"IT HE apparel oft' proclaims the man,"
A and Man embraces Woman. So keep
apparel right when not in wear. The GOOD-
FORM plan saves life of clothes and the expense
and shine of the pressing iron. Known and
appreciated by millions. Get the article possess-
ing- the real merit. Insist on GOODFORM and
avoid disappointment.
Goodform Set for Women
$3.00 Delivered
6 Coat Hgrs.. No. 21 , adjustable
6 Skirt Hangers, adjustable
1 each Shelf Bar and Door Loop
1 Shoe Rail. No. 27
Men
Goodform Set for
$4.50 Delivered.
6 Coat Hgrs., No. 21, adjustable
6Trs. Hgrs.. No. 41, cloth lined
1 each Shelf Bar and Door Loop
1 Shoe Rail, No. 27
Each set delivered in Separate Box, Safely Packed.
Note above illustration and price of samples by mail. Looj
or Bar sample 15c each, prepaid. Sold by merchants
everywhere or delivered for the price. Booklet FREE
CHICAGO FORM COMPANY
Sec. 28-115 Franklin Street • Chicago, Illinoit
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
xl
Chops
Steaks and Salads
are some of the dishes the enjoy-
ment of which can be very greatly
increased by the use of
Lea & Perrins' Sauce
THE ORIGINAL WORCESTERSHIRE
Just a li-tle on Cheese is delicious. It adds zest to Welsh Rarebit,
Macaroni with Cheese, Cheese Toast and all Chafing Dish Cooking.
Beware Of Imitations. John Duncan's Sons, Agents, New York
THE REALM OF BOOKLAND
"Practical Health," by Leander Ed-
mund Whipple, is a book which delves
deep into the philosophy of sickness, and
traces the relation between physical ail-
ments and the strength and weakness of
the human mind. The theory that the
attitude and power of the intellect is re-
sponsible for much evil and disease in
the world is the theory of Christian Sci-
ence to a large extent. That there is
much in this theory has never been doubt-
ed, and the present volume, in its treat-
ment of the subject, keeps well within the
range of probability. An excellent study
of the influence of mind over matter, and
the uses to which it may be put.
The Metaphysical Publishing Com-
pany, New York City.
* * *
So many worthless histories of the
United States have been written, that the
latest volume, "American History," by
Roscoe Lewis Ashley, of Pasadena, will
stand out as a good apple among a score
of poor ones. The development of the
nation is the topic upon which the author
has laid the greatest stress, bringing the
history down to date. This book will be
recognized as a sufficient text for pre-
paratory school studies.
The Macmillan Company, New York
Citv.
Volume I of the annual reports of the
Department of the Interior, is at hand,
giving the report of the Commissioner of
Education. The volume contains much
valuable data on the educational methods
and institutions of this country and the
Philippines, Porto Eico, France and
other countries.
Government Printing Office, Washing-
ton, D. C.
xii
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
Hartshorn Shade Roller!
Wood Rollers
Bear the script name of Stewart
Hartshorn on label.
Get "Improved," no tacks. required.
Tin Rollers
Interior Decoration
IS AN ILLUSTRATED MONTHLY
MAGAZINE FULL OF IDEAS
Decorating and Furnishing the
Home correctly and tastefully is as
necessary as dressing fashionably
and becomingly
1 0 cents, postpaid $ 1 .OO a year
Catalog of Books on Decoration Free
&Lawton, 19 Union Sq,, New York
"Henry's Calcined Magnesia
prevents and relieves sour stomach, assists digestion, overcome
constipation, and benefits every form of stomach and bow«
trouble. A mild and pleasant remedy for both children anc
adults. The genuine has been in use since 1772, and the bottl
is sealed with the old-fashioned British" Inland Revenue"stamp|
while the wrapper is sealed by a white label in which the naml
of Schieffelin & Co. (agents for the U. S.) guarantees the efficacl
.of this superior remedy. Ask your druggist for the genuine. I
Are you going to St. Louii
The HOTEL HAMILTON is a delightful place in the Best F
dent Section and away from the noise and smoke; yet within i
access. Transient Rate: $1 to $3 per day. European Plan. Sp|
Rates by the week. Write fer Booklet. Address: W. F. WILLW
SON. Manager:
of IJ\\;\MD
Chairs
PURPOSES
133 Spear Street, San Francisco.
, .
Wholesok JVRetail
Illustrated catalogue on application. Office and Factory II
Market St., San Francisco. Branch, 837 S Spring St., Los
For Breakfast
The Pacific Coast Cereal
THE JOHNSON-LOCKE MERCANTILE CO., Agents
SAN FRANCISCO
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
xiii
Like a Whirlwind!!
The NEW Low Cost
PRUDENTIAL
Policy Has Rushed Into Public Favor
Every Rate, Value and Feature in the Policy ABSOLUTELY GUARANTEED
SEE WHAT OUR FIELD MANAGERS SAY. THEY KNOW. THEY MEET THE PUBLIC FACE
TO FACE, AND ARE EXPERTS IN THE STUDY AND SALE OF LIFE INSURANCE CONTRACTS
Superior in Every Point to any Policy Issued."
Policies Easy to Sell, People Want them."
There Has Never Been Offered to the Public a Policy that so fully and
Perfectly meets the Rights and needs of the Insured."
The Finest that Has Ever Been Offered the Public."
Policy Most Attractive Ever issued by the Company."
Rates Are O. K. Selling Qualities Good."
Legitimate Life Insurance at Low Cost."
It Certainly is the Best on the Harket."
Better than any Contract of Life Insurance issued by Any Company
Doing a Life Insurance Business in this Country. The intention of this
Company is to do the Very Best it Possibly Can for its Policy holders."
Agents of Other Companies Congratulate Us."
Policy is a Winner— A Crackerjack."
'Certainly the Best of Anything that is on the Market today in Life
Insurance. There are no Competitors."
New Policy Defies Competition. Liberal to the Insured, and Cheap."
Selling Qualities Good."
New Low Rate Policy Appeals to Insurers, a model of Protection
and Investment."
-C. B. Knight, Pittsburg, Pa.
-C. M. Adams, Macon, Ga.
-Perry & Cummings, Newark, N.J.
-Z. T. Miller, New York, N. Y.
-ft. A. Austin, Kansas City, Mo.
-F. M. Mathena, Portland, Ore.
-F. C. Mann, Boston, Mass.
-C. IV. Noble, Terre Haute, Ind.
-C. R. Showaltcr, Milwaukee, Wis.
-H. R. Gould, Omaha, Neb.
-O. O. Orr, Denver, Colo.
-A. X. Schmitt, Chicago, III.
-Nelles Co., Los Angeles, Cal,
-R. S. Boyns, San Francisco, Cal.
—C. M. Clapp, Brooklyn, N. Y.
In Competition with Fraternal Insurance it will be Easier to Sell and
Easier to Hold."
Outclasses any and All Kinds of Dividend Insurance."
New Policy Just What the People Have Been Looking for, with Its low
Rates and High Guarantees. Should Sell on Sight.'
-J. M. Mackintosh, Cleveland O.
-J. E. Smith, Chicago, III.
—O. E. Fell, Seattle, Wash.
Hundreds of other Managers, without a dissenting voice, characterize this as
The Greatest Advance in Life Insurance in Recent Years
THK 15 THE LIFE INSUR-
ANCE POLICY YOU WANT.
Nothing like it offered before.
Send in your age, and we will
give you rates. Address Dept. 21
RUDENTIAL
If** I*« '"A
'STRENGTH OF
^GIBRALTAR H
'1i»*. t,
The
Prudential
Insurance Co. of America
Incorporated as a Stock Company by the
State of New Jersey.
JOHN F. DRYDEN,
President.
Home Office :
NEWARK, N. J.
Put Your Money in a New York
Enterprise
Particularly, if vou can get it in one that is a money-maker and has stood
all tests for 25 YEARS MAKING a PROFIT each year.
$9.50 will start you, giving you a $10 interest with a personal guarantee "by
the Treasurer of the Company," for 6*4 per cent on your money.
$95 will give you 10 shares of stock (the par value of which is $100), or you
may secure as many shares as you desire by paying one-tenth of the amount
down, one-tenth more each month thereafter, until paid for, Beside getting all divi-
dends paid on your stock during that time.
Just a Moment Now
While I tell you something of this company whose stock I am offering, and
which you should buy if you want a safe, sound and money-making investment,
one that will permit you to sleep well, and makes money for you while you sleep.
History of the Business
Mr. John F. Douthitt, "whose name this company bears," established this busi-
ness 25 years ago, has made money every year since, last year cleared over $50,000.
All these years the business has been located on the wealthiest street, in the greatest
city in the world, 273 Fifth avenue, New York City.
The John F. Douthitt Co. deals in hand-painted tapestries, upholsteries, draper-
ies, oil paintings, water colors, brass goods and antiques of all kinds; besides all
this, the company does a large decorating business. Mr. Douthitt has- decorated
some of the finest homes, hotels, theatres, State capitols and court houses in all
parts of the United States.
The company is headquarters for and carries the largest stock of HAND
PAINTED SILK TAPESTRIES IN THE WORLD.
The continual growth of this enterprise made it too large for a one man business,
thereby necessitating making it a corporation, which was affected last November
when the John F. Douthitt Co. took over this excellent business, with a house
packed full of goods amounting to over $200,000 AND NOT ONE CENT OF IN-
DEBTEDNESS. Can one ask for anything better?
There is a limited «mount of this stock for sale, but only a part of that will
be sold at $9.50, and the only notice of advance in price will be when printed on
the coupon below.
In filling out the coupon, write plainly the name to whom the certificate is for,
but send in quickly before the advance in price.
There is a good position here for several men in the different lines.
Make all checks and orders to G. M. WHEELER, Treasurer.
JOHN F. DOCTHITT CO. 273 Fifth Ave., N. Y. C.
FORMED UNDER THE LAWS OF THE STATE OF MAINE
Capital stock, (full paid and non-assef sable) $300,000.
Par value of shares, MO each, now selling at S9.50 per share.
Enclosed find S in payment for rliarcs of the Jno. F. Douthitt Co. Issue
Certificate to . City ,
$treet State O\LKLA.\D MO.VTHLY
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
Continental Building and Loan
Association
of California
ESTABLISHED 1889
Subscribed Capital . .
Paid-in Capitol . . . .
Profit and Reserve Fund
Monthly Income, over .
$15,OOO,OOO
3.OOO.OOO
. . 450.OOO
2OO.OOO
ITS PURPOSE IS
To help its members to build homes, also to
make loans on improved property, the mem-
bers giving first liens on real estate as
security. To help its stock holders to earn
from 8 to 12 per cent per annum on their
stock, and to allow them to open deposit
accounts bearing interest at the rate of
5 per cent per annum.
Church near Market Street,
San Francisco.
A Skin of Beauty is a Joy Forever.
DR. T. FELIX GOURAUD'S
ORIENTAL CREAM, or Magical Beautifier
PURIFIES
as well as
Beautifies
the Skin.
No other
Cosmetic
will do it.
Removes Tan, Pimples,
Freckles, Moth Patches,
Rash, and Skin Dis-
eases and every
blemish on
beauty, and de-
nes detection. It
has stood the
test of 58 years,
and is so harm-
less we taste it
to be sure It Is
properly made.
Accept no coun-
terfeit of similar
name. Dr. L. A.
Sayre said to a
lady of the haut-
ton (a patient) :
"As you ladies will use them, I recommend
•Gouraud's Cream ' as the least harmful of all
the skin preparations."
For sale by all Druggists and Fancy Goods
Dealers in the United States, Canada and Eu-
rope.
Gouraud's Oriental Toilet Powder
An ideal antiseptic toilet powder for infants
and adults. Exquisitely perfumed. Relieves
skin irritation, cures sunburn and renders an
excellent complexion.
Price, 26 cents per box by mail.
GOURAUD'S POUDRE SUBTILE removes
superfluous hair without injury to the skin.
Price, $1.00 per bottle by mail.
FERD T. HOPKINS, Prop'r, 37 Great Jones 8t
New York.
"Wags: The Philosophy of a Peaceful
Pup," is a little volume, beautifully il-
luminated, by John Taylor. The book is
in verse, of which the following is a typi-
cal stanza :
"When your atmosphere is blue,
When your laundry bill is due,
When everything and every one is vile;
When you spurn your daily hash,
And your prospects go to smash,
Then it's time for you to open up a
smile.''
Just an entertaining little book, not
over-clever, not over-brilliant, but con-
taining a half hour's fun.
Morgan Shepard Co., San Francisco.
Mr. Galen Clark, discoverer of the Mari-
posa grove of big trees, and for years
closely connected with the work of pre-
serving our Western forests, has written
an entertaining and valuable work in the
"Big Trees of California." This little
book, while only 104 pages, contains
much valuable information as to the ori-
gin, age, habits and characteristics of our
giant sequoias. There are in all twenty
photographic reproductions of the most
famous big trees. A most valuable au-
thority on one of California's most fam-
ous features.
Eeflex Publishing Co., Redondo, Cal.
* * *
Wellcome's Exposure Eecord is a book
of some two hundred and sixty pages,
memorandum size, gilt edge and lettering,
cloth bound with flap fastener and pencil.
A book that is found in the pockets of a
good proportion of our friends who follow
photography in England. Several pages
are given to an explanation of the princi-
ples which underlie correct exposure, table
for focusing by scale, developing factors,
formulae and the like, ruled pages for re-
cording exposures and a most convenient
exposure disc on the last inside cover. If
your dealer cannot show you one, send
fifty cents to Burroughs WTellcome & Co.,
45 Lafayette street, New York.
For Liquor and
Drug Using
A scientific remedy which has been
skillfully and successfully administered by
medical specialists for the past 28 years
AT THE FOLLOWING KEELEY INSTITUTES
Birmingham, Ala.
Hot Springs, Ark.
San Francisco, Cal.
Denver, Colo.
West Haven, Conn.
Washington, D. C.
211 N.Capitol St.
D wight 111.
Marion, Ind.
Plainfield, Ind.
Des Moines la.
Crab Orchard, Ky.
Lexington, Mass.
Portland, Me.
Grand Rapids, Mich.
365 S. College Ave.
Omaha, Neb.
Cor. Cassand25thSt.,
North Conway, N. H.
Buffalo, N. Y.
White Plains, N. Y.
Fargo, N. D.
Philadelphia, Pa.
81 2 N. Broad St.
Harrisburg, Pa.
Pittsburg, Pa.
4246 FifthAve.
Providence R. I.
Waukesha, Wis
Toronto, Ont. Can.
Winnipeg, Manitoba
London. England
MAIL ORDER MEN AND PUBLISHERS
DOUBLE jour returns with the Money Mailer.
Brings cash with the order. The best advertising
novelty on the market. 1 doz. samples 10 cents
postpaid.
Paper folding Boxes and Waterproof Signs a
specialty Write ns for prices.
R. LINDLEY PAPER BOX CO. LOUISVILLE, KY.
MONEY
MAILER
GOURAUD'S ORIENTAL TOILET POWDER
An ideal, antiseptic toilet powder for infants
and adults. Equisitely perfumed. Cures skin
troubles and keeps the complexion in an excel-
lent condition. Mailed on receipt of 25 cents
per box. F. T. HOPKINS, proprietor.
37 Great Jones St., New York City.
: VAN ""STORAGE
SHIPPERS'- HOUSEHOLD GOODS
AT EDUCED RATES.
968 Broadway, Oakland
Household goods shipped to and from the East and South at
reduced rates
San Francisco Chicago Los Angeles
JAMESTOWN EXPOSITION
PINE BEACH HOTEL
On the waters of the historic Hampton Roads. Adjoining the Exposition Groundi and entrance.
PINE BEACH, VA.
No shell—but an up-to-date resort, and prepared to accommodate first-class patronage almost without limit throughout the
Exposition season.
STEAM HEAT
ELECTRIC LIGHTS
BATHING. FISHING,
ORCHESTRA. TENNIS
POOL. BILLIARDS
American and European Plan. Ten acres of lawn. 2500 feet of board walk, along water.. The Atlantic Ocean affords the
guests here the most healthful combination known to science. Steamers and railroads to Norfolk, Va. Thirty minutes by trolley
or boats.
Send for Booklet
DAVID LAUBER
Also Manager TAMPA BAT HOTEL
Pine Beach, Va.
BEST PLACE TO STOP WHILEAT EXPOSITION
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
I
BANK BY MAIL
This strong bank with assets of over
TWELVE MILLION DOLLARS
solicits your account. We pay 4 per
cent on Savings Deposits. Send for
our booklet "P" "Banking by Mail"—
it will interest you and show you how
to make more money.
California Safe Deposit
and Trust Company
California and Montgomery Streets
SAN FRANCISCO, California
THE GERMAN SAVINGS
AND LOAN SOCIETY
526 CALIFORNIA STREET.
San Francisco, Cal.
Guaranteed Capital and Surplus. $2,603,755. 68
Capital actually paid up in cash. 1,000,000.00
Deposits, June 29, 1907 38,156,931.28
OFFICERS— President, N. Ohlandt; First
Vice-President, Daniel Meyer; Second Vice-
President, Emil Rohte; Cashier, A. H. R.
Schmidt; Assistant Cashier, William Herr-
mann; Secretary, George Tourny; Assistant
Secretary, A. H. Muller; Goodfellow & Eells,
General Attorneys.
BOARD OF DIRECTORS— N. Ohlandt,
Daniel Meyer, Emil Rohte, Ign. Steinhart,
I. N. Walter, J. W. Van Bergen, F. Till-
mann, Jr., E. T. Kruse and W. S. Goodfel-
low.
Mil
For Old Age
In the evening of life, when age is full of
beauty, precaution should be taken to keep
the forces of life at their best. Without the
vigor and active recuperative powers
of youth, we must ward of those little ail-
ments that with impaired age are often
forerunners of serious sickness. Nature to
an extent should be aided and the system
fortified by a nourishment that will en-
rich the blood, strengthen the nerves and
revitalize the entire body. These properties
are all found in
Bobst Extract
Glowing and sparkling with vitality, it is
the staunch vigor of barley malt and hops,
rich in the tissue building qualities of the for-
mer and the splendid tonic properties of the
latter. This highly nutritious liquid food, in
its palatable and predigested form, is wel-
comed and retained by the weakest stomach,
being easily assimilated by the blood, and
carries in it those properties that revitalize
and rebuild the muscles and nerve tissues.
Pabst Extract
-!ttf'B«s> Tonic
strengthens the weak, builds up the run
down, cheers'the depressed. It will nourish
your nerves, enrich your blood and invigor-
ate your muscles. It gives sleep to the
sleepless, relieves the dyspeptic and is a
boon to nursing mothers.
*"or sale at all Leading 'Druggists
Insist upon the Original
Guaranteed under the National Pure Food Law
U. S. Serial No. 1921
Free Picture and Book
Send us your name on a postal tor our interesting
booklet and "Baby's First Adventure," a beautiful
picture of baby life. BotL FREE. Address
Pabst Extract Dept. g Milwaukee, Wls.
xvlll Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
. YOUR
WINTER TRIP
made comfortable
by the
SUNSET ROUTE
Traverses the sunny south between San Francisco and
New Orleans.
Vestibuled Drawing Room sleeping cars. Dining service
the best. Parlor observation car. Library. Cafe. La-
dies' lounging room.
Personally conducted family excursion parties between
California and New Orleans, Kansas City, St. Louis,
Cincinnati, Chicago and Washington every week.
Connections made at New Orleans with New Orleans-
New York Steamship Co.'s steamers for New York.
Your choice of an all rail or sea voyage
Southern Pacific
TICKET OFFICES
884 Market Street 14th and Franklin Sts.
San Francisco, Cal. Oakland, Cal.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
xix
Irving Institute and California Conservatory of Music
2126-2128 California Street, San Franci«co
Boarding and Day School for Girls
Mus'c, Languages, Art, and Elocution. Accredited by Univer-
litiei. The new term begins Monday, August 5.
MISS ELLA M. P1NKHAM, Principal.
California Conservatory of Music. Send for
Catalogue.
HERMANN GENSS, Director.
THE HAMLIN SCHOOL AND VAN NESS SEMINARY
2230 Pacific Ave.
For particulars address
cTWISS SARAH D. HAMLIN
2230 Pacific cAvenue,
San Francisco Telephone West 546
The Fall term will open August 12, 1907
What, School?
WE CAN HELP YOU DECIDE
Catalogues and reliable information concerning all
schools and colleges furnished without charge. State
kind of school, address:
American School and College Agency
384, 41 Park Row, New Yerk, or 384, 3I5 Dearborn St., Chicago
20,000 BOOKS
Paul Book & Stationery O
on all subjects. Also Plays, Speakers
Wholesale Prices. Catalog FREE. S
33 Sixth St.. St. Paul. Minn.
A M £ L S
Oak, Cherry, Mahogany, Walnut,
Rosewood or Transparent
FOR OLD OR NEW FLOORS, FURNITURE AND WOODWORK
Wears like cement — Dries over night with Bril-
liant Gloss. Contains no Japan or Shellac. Write
at once for Free Booklet, Color Card and List of
Dealers. TRIAL CAN FREE (send lOc. to pay
postage). Enough for a Chair, Table or Kitchen
Cabinet. Address: "FLOOR-SHINE" CO.,
ST. LOUIS, MO.
Sold by Hale Bros., Agents, San Francisco,
and A. Hamburger Sons, Los Angeles.
If you are a dealer write for the Agency.
oman
Is interested and should know
about the wonderful
[MARVEL Whirling Spray
I The new Vaginal Syringe. In.
jection and Suction. Best-
Safest— Most Con-
ivenient. It cleanses
Ask your druggist for It.
If be cannot supply the
MARVEL, accept n
other, but send stamp f
illustrated book— scaled. It gives
full particulars and directions In-
valuable to ladies. MARVEL. CO
44 £. 28d ST., NEW YOUK
instantly.
The
Smallest
Watch
Made
in
America
A new Elgin Watch
perfectly adapted to
the watch needs of
womankind yet meeting
the same rigid require-
ments that have made
the Elgin the standard
watch for mankind.
Illustration actual size of watch.
Every Elgin Watch is fully guaranteed, all
jewelers have them — Send for "The Watch"
a story of the time of day.
Elgin National Watch Co.
Elgin, 111.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
The Overland Monthly
SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.
An Illustrated Magazine of the West
Magazine Offers for 1907:
The prices are for a year's subscription. T he prices cover postage anywhere in United
States or American possessions, and in Canad a, Mexico and Cuba. The magazines in com-
binations may be for one or more persons. Be careful to give names and addresses clearly
a nd fully.
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OUR MAGAZINE LIST
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American Boy $1.00
Automobile Magazine 2.00
Bohemian 1.00
Children's Magazine 1.00
Cosmopolitan 1.00
Travel Magazine 1.00
Harpers' Bazar 1.00
Madame 1 .00
National 1.00
Pearson's 1.00
Pictorial Review ?.00
Suburban Life 1.00
Success 1.00
Sunset 1.50
Taylor- Trotwood 1.00
Tomorrow Magazine 1.00
"Woman's Home Companion 1.00
World To-Day 1.00
CLASS B Regular Price.
American Magazine with Suburban Life.. $2.00
Broadway Magazine 1 .50
Country Gentleman 1.50
Etude 1.50
Musician 1.60
Review of Reviews 3.00
Searchlight 2.00
Technical World 1.50
Regular Price
Ainslie's $1.80
Appleton's Booklovers' 3.00
Automobile (weekly) 2.00
Burr Mclntosh 3.00
Current Literature 3.00
Forum 2.00
Independent • 2.00
Lippincott's 2.50
Metropolitan (two years) 3.60
Outing 3.00
Smart Set 2.50
CLASS D.
Regular Price
San Francisco News Letter $4.00
Argonaut 4.00
Harper's Weekly 4.00
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one of Class B and one of Class C, $7.25.
TheOVERLAND MONTHLY CO., Publishers
Offices — 773 Market St., San Francisco.
Please Mention Overland Monthly in Writing Advertisers.
xxi
HOTEL CUMBERLAND
NEW YORK
S. W. Cor. Broadway at 54th Street,
IDEAL LOCATION.
NEAR THEATRES,
SHOPS AND
CENTRAL PARK
New,
Modern
Absolutely
Fireproof
Coolest Summer
Hotel in New York.
Close to 5th Ave.
"L" and Subway
»nd accessible to
all surface car
liueo. Transient
rates 12.50 with
Bath and up. A 1
outside rooms.
Special rates for
summer months.
SEND FOR BOOKLET
Hotel Impe
Woodward
lanajement of HARRY P. STIMSON. formerly witli
al, New York; F. J. BINGHAM, formerly with Hotel
A CHANGE.
In days of old, the pirate bold
Robbed far from home, so I have read.
Xo more he'll roam ; he stays at home —
They call him grafter now, instead.
Greatest Possible Service
for Least Possible Expense
This fact has been thoroughly demon-
strated by 16,000 users all over the world.
.A car that provides all the enjoyment
there is in automobiling, all the time,
at an expense so small that almost any
family can afford it. The average
expense to maintain the
SINGLE
CYLINDER
AUTOMOBILE
is less than that of a horse and buggy.
Equally dependable, with many times
the service. An ideal family car good
for years of service. The oldest Cadillacs
made are still running as well as ever.
Most practical and economical for all-
the-yearuse, for business and pleasure —
simple and efficient. We prove all these
claims in our 64-page booklet, entitled
'The Truth about the Automobile and
What it Costs to Maintain One"
by actual results in flsures, {riven by users of 104
cars, operated under every road ami weather condi-
tion. Mailed free— write at once for Booklet No. ?2
CADILLAC MOTOR CAR CO., Detroi!. Mich.
Member Asso. Licensed Auto. M/rs.
ALAS! TOO TRUE.
Twinkle, twinkle,, little star,
Up above the chorus far.
Twinkle while you may, my dear;
Other stars will soon appear.
USE
SELF - RISING
B. B. B.
FLOUR
\
/ For Boston Brown Bread, Griddle Cakes, Muffins and Plum Pudding.
ALLEN'S B. B. B. FLOUR Co., Inc., San Jose, Cala.
WHEN IN BOSTON STAY AT THE
COPLEY SQUARE HOTEL
HUNTINGTON AVE., EXETER AND BLAGDEN STS.
A high-class, modern house, intelligent service, moderate prices, pleasant rooms, superior
cuisine. Long distance telephone in every room.
Ladies traveling alone are assured of courteous attention.
300 rooms— 200 with private baths. AMOS H. WHIPPLE, Proprietor.
xxll Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
ALONE IN ITS FIELD
The Living Age
is the only American Magazine exclusively devoted to the
reprinting, without abridgment, of the most important and
interesting articles from the best English periodicals.
Published weekly, it is able to present this material
while the topics considered are still fresh in the public mind.
With the whole range of English periodical literature to
select from, it is able to present more important articles
by well-known and brilliant writers than any other single
magazine. It publishes
The Best Fiction
The Best Essays
The Best Literary Criticism
The Best Travel Articles
The Ablest Discussions of Public Affairs
The single numbers are light and easy to hold, and the
reading matter is not smothered in advertising. The num-
bers for a year contain as much as two of the four-dollar
magazines.
The LIVING AGE has been published every Saturday
without missing an issue for more than 63 years, and was
never more indispensable than now to intelligent readers.
New subscribers for 1908 will receive free the remaining
numbers of 1907 from the date on which their subscriptions
reach the publishers. Specimen copy free.
Terms: $6.00 a Year
Three Months' Trial Subscription, $1.OO
The LIVING AGE COMPANY
6 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
xxiii
3 GOLD MEDALS
LEWIS ft CLARK
EXPOSITION.
Hall's
VEGETABLE
S I CI LI AN
Hair
Renewer
BEVTSED POBMTTLA
Glycerin, Capsicum,
Bay Rum, Sulphur. Tea,
Rosemary Leaves, Boro-
glycerin. Alcohol, Wa-
ter, Perfume. The rea-
son why we use each of
these ingredients is set
forth inabooklet we will
mail you upon request.
Ask your druggist for
the new kind. ' The
kind that does not
change the color of the
hair.
It is now positively
known that falling
hair is caused by a
germ, hence is a
regular germ disease.
Hall's Hair Renewer,
as now made from the
"revised formula,"
slops falling hair be-
lt desfro'/s (he germs which produce this trouble. It
'so destroys the dandruff germs, and restores the scalp
to a healthy condition. R. P. Hall & Co., Nashua. N. H.
al
JUDICIOUS PURCHASING
§f the material in your building means more profit on your invest-
ment. A* <JjH' <#* Buy from us, as sales agents §f California's
best constructive materials. A* £# A# Our quality is unsur-
passed and San Francisco benefits by our prices. $# <%# £#
It means money to you, whether owner, architect or contractor.
OURo LINES COMPRISE
CEMENT-Standard Portland Cement.
Santa Cruz Portland Cement.
LIME— Holmes Lime Co., brands.
PLASTER-Marbleite Hardwall Plaster.
BRICK—Central Brick Co., Rj>ed and Rj>epressed,
Carnegie Brick and Pottery Co., Fire and
Face Brick, Sewer Pipe and Terra Cotta.
CRUSHED ROCK-Good quality. "Blue Trap."
Western Building ^Material Company"
430 CALIFORNIA ST.
Phone Temporary 2647
SAN FRANCISCO II
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
THE NOVEMBER ISSUE OF
The Overland Monthly
Will present an absorbing variety of stirring fiction stones, and a number of
carefullv prepared descriptive articles, highly illustrated and timely.
WHAT THE CATHOLIC CHURCH HAS DONE FORo
SAN FRANCISCO
The historv nt' early San Francisco is the history of the romantic mission estab-
INhments \vliich, under the leadership of the devout padres brought happiness
and prosperity to the thousands of native California Indians when the overtures
nf the military had failed.
The beautiful story of the early missionary work in the San Francisco bay re-
gion. together with a description of the present organized educational and chari-
table activities of the Catholic Church, whereby every unfortunate or sick person,
. nrpiian and every motherless babe is cared for, will be told by Mr. Hamilton
Wright, editor of the Overland Monthly, in the November issue of the Over-
land Monthly. Of course,, it is impossible to do full justice to such a theme,
hut it i< believed that this article is the most comprehensive description of
this kind th.it has yet appeared in a popular magazine. A special interest will
• to Mr. Wright's carefully prepared article for the reason that, just as New
.md is the seat of the early Puritan civilization, so in San Francisco the Catho-
lic Church is ai tin- very foundation of our civilization. The marvelous work of the
- of the I'ooi- in assisting ihe aged, the Youths' Directory, in bring-
•p bov- from the city slums, the Sisters of the Holy Family, who care for
Children while their parents are at work, and a great many other charitable ae-
tivitie, equally meritorious, will he described in the Xovember Overland Monthly.
THE PACIFIC COAST AND THE PANAMA CANAL
'Ihe completion l(f the Panama Canal is of absorbing interest to every one upon
the 1'acitic Coast. Congressman Joseph R. Knowland has visited the canal, and
• • in the November issue presents in a logical way how former difficulties
been largely overcome and the bright outlook for the future.
NEW ERA IN THE PHILIPPINES
•TV one is familiar with the discouraging stories of the Philippines in
.n!\ d-ivs ,.f the American occupation. To-day there is a new era in the
\ Mousand miles of new railways are being built or reconstructed, eleven
:p routes, suhsidi/ed by the Insular Government, call at every important
in !he inlands: Manila, with elaborate street car systems, beautiful parks,
"lu • ' thoroughly modernized city withal, with the quaint fascination
•lent, and to-day is notable as the show place of the Far East. A traveler
anila writes a fascinating story of the present rapid progress in the Philip-
and the opportunities there which the merchants of Manila have -subscribed
""> to advertise.
PERILS OF BIG GAME HUNTING
>. Lanier describes the excitement of big game hunting in the West-
ates and elsewhere, and urges the establishment of a national game
California. Illustrated with a series of remarkable photographs.
AROUND THE, WORLD WITH WILLIAM H. TAFT
Mr. Eobert L. Dunn, the famous war correspondent, who is accompanying Sec-
retary Taft on hi? trip around the world will write some exclusive articles for
the Overland Monthly. Should Mr. Dunn be able to get his matter back in time
from Japan, the first of the articles will apear in the November Overland Monthly.
VILLA LIFE ON CAPRI
A beautifully illustrated article by Aloy sius Coll.
OTHER FEATURES:
Actresses of the old days in San Francisco; Famous Paintings Destroyed in the
..Great Fire: Delmas, Always a Gentleman; Admiral Robley D. Evans 'in Charge
of the Fleet to the Pacific.
Strong Western fiction will be a feature of the November Overland Monthly.
The Overland Monthly has introduced more new writers to fame than perhaps any
other magazine. This policy will be sustained. The merit of- a story alone
counts with u?. So that during the ensuing year, not only will authors of national
reputation appear in the Overland Monthly, but also those whom we believe are in
the way to win their spurs.
Via Salt, Lake Route, Union Pacific and North Western, through Salt* Lake City, Odgen
and Omaha. AD agents from San Francisco South sell tickets to the East, via the Salt
Lake Route. Your patronage is solicited for this superb train.
F. A. WANN, Genl. Traffic Manager; T. C. PECK, Gen,. Pass. Agent
LOS ANGELES
xxvi
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
My razor is in a class by
itself.
There is no other razor that
approaches it in value for the
purpose a razor is intended.
In three years' time it has
jumped into popularity with
every nation on earth.
This has not been done by
use of money or good business man-
agement alone, but by the positive
merits of the "Gillette" itself.
There are millions of users who
substantiate all that I say.
The Gillette Safety Razor consists of triple silver
plated holder— IS double-edged I'lades packed
in velvet lined leather case. Price ys.OO.
Sold everywhere.
Write for our H'u'tratrd Hock let
GILLETTE SALES COMPANY
283 Times Building
NEW YORK CITY
NO STROPPING NO
a*.
THE WORLD'S BEST PIANO-PLAYER
THE MELODANT-ANGELUS
The best that can be said of the ordinary piano-player is that it enables the performer to give a
fairly creditable imitation of the hand-playing of the average pianist. How different with the
MELODANT-ANGELUS ! The MELODANT-ANGELUS is the only piano-player made, by
whose aid the player, even though a novice, is enabled to render any selection — popular or classical —
with a musical brilliancy which astonishes and delights the person of critical musical taste.
A performance on the MELODANT-ANGELUS is as artistic in every sense and as musically per-
fect as that of an acknowledged master of piano-music. The delicate fingers of the MELODANT
ANGELUS bring out the best there is in the piano. The Phrasing Lever, Diaphragm Pneumatics and
Melody Buttons—^ exclusive features of the ANGELUS — entirely eliminate the mechanical effect. These
devices enable the player to inject personal feeling into the performance and to interpret any composition m
the way that most appeals to him. With the MELODANT, the new device exclusive with the ANGELUS,
the most artistic music is produced without thought of expression on the part of the performer.
Before purchasing your piano-player just hear the MELODANT-ANGELUS once. The music
of other piano-players can no more be classed with that of the MELODANT-ANGELUS than the
playing of an ordinary pianist can be classed with that of a Paderewski or a Rubenstein.
' Pianos, with the ANGELUS built within the case, from $550 upwards — the Cabinet ANGELUS,
which plays any make of piano, $250.
Write us for name of nearest representative and free descriptive literature.
Established 1876 THE WILCOX & WHITE CO. Meriden, Conn.
DC
PLEASE NOTE:
This is to remind you that
Edgar G. Humphrey is the
Pioneer Specialist in proper-
ty from San Mateo to Menlo
Park and about Stanford
University.
OFFICES:
513-515 Gall Bldfl.,S. F.
Phone Temp. 4656
108 Circle Palo Alto, Gal.
Phone Main 229
Residence Menlo Park
Phone Main 217
ni:
BAKER'S)
COCOA
First in Years !
First in Honors !
First on the
Breakfast Tables
of the World!
Q HIGHEST AWARDS IN
TO EUROPE AND AMERICA
WALTER BAKER & Co., Ltd.
[Established 1780]
DORCHESTER, MASS.
MENNENS
BORATED TALCUM
TOILET POWDER
"When Frost is on the Purmkin
and fodder's in the shock," there comes a f
tion to daily users ol
Mennens Borated Talcum Toilet Powder
unimpaired Mrnm-n> is a safe and pure toilet necessity!
I alter balking and after .having, and indispensable in
old everywhere, or by mail, 25 cents. Sample Free.
OERHAID MENNEN CO.. Newark N J
Try MI,NV,.;VS \ -;,.,,., , Borated) Talcum Toilet Powder
It has the scent of fresh-cut Parma Violets
GENTLEMEN
WHO DRESS FOR STYLE
NEATNESS, AND COMFORT
WEAR THE IMPROVED
BOSTON
GARTER
THE RECOGNIZED STANDARD
VOSC PIANOS
The Name is
stamped on every
loop —
The ^b. _
CUSHION
BUTTON
CLASP
LIES FLAT TO THE LEG— NEVER
SLIPS, TEARS NOR UNFASTENS
Sample pair, Silk 50c., Cotton 2Sc.
Amiled on receipt of price.
GEO. FROST CO., Makers
Boston, Mass., U.S.A.
ALWAYS EASY
have been established over 55 years. By our system
of payments every family of moderate circum-
stances can own a VOSE piano. We take old in-
struments in exchange and deliver the new piano
in your home free of expense. Write for Catalogue
D and explanation.
fc SONS PIANO CO., bo»to*. MOM.
IN THIS ISSUE
What the Catholic Church Has Done for San Francisco
ME. RUDOLPH SPRECKEL!
THE GENIUS OF THE SA
FRANCISCO GRAFT . . .
PROSECUTION
MEDIEVAL ROMANCE
MARK TWAIN . . .
CW ERA IN THE . . .
ITL IP PINES
JEF--A JEW UNDER . .
)RTURE
Franrisro
HERE In a "Wash-Day" servant that never grumbles.
It never complains about the size of your washing— nor
tin- tiini- it takes to do your washing.
It neicr v t« "out of sorts"— never disputes with you— never
bark. "
It nc\cr •Tniwwi" with cook— never "has words" with other
MTvimt- n»r .I,*- it |eave >ou to "net another place."
ntented "WaatfDar" .Servant in always rcadv and
Willing to work and will utart at a minute's notice.
It wiwhf* thoroughly ami well; and does the work/aafer—
•nd «uter - and mure economically than you have ever had
wtwhiOK done In-fore.
+ * * +
Thin wn.her works by electricity, and, to start it takes but a
lirift I'ftht flnorrt. \ou turn an electric switch, and tiuit i.sall
In n few „„,„„. nt«. a tiibful of clothes is washed clean.
another twirt o! jour fingers switches power to the
wringvr to wring out the clot lies
i»- «. <-hc,| an,) scalded, rinsed and "blued"-
•MKrr an, I brtt.-r in thin washer, than in nny other way.
••the* cannot be worn-or frayed-or tdrn-or
r M mi ned in tins wither.
Button* cannot l.e»plit. broken, nor pulled off.
, tins v.ni Klectric "Self-Working" Washer the
''"' *'t' <"'"-vwhil" the water and soap, an<l t he mot «"n
do the washing.
I ll»**i'i,Il" WPl!r Hn<1 t('"r- and mnlting your washables last
")W h«tW',V A"' """•" 1'," °W" <Wt in jnKt " f"w "'onthB.
T,'..'' "r<TP* right on farina.
fe of jour fine table and be.f linens doubles.
V>ur Hnewa-l, cloihes last twice as lonn.
1r,:'ir;;;;^J;(';f > '"'•• servants is saved. They stay
Tic "Self-WorkinK" Washer saves you
men's wages, and laundry bills.
•(••ar on jmir nerxes.
It "iwhjw and u-rings your clothes.
w -l"!. wMh,^ °nly Wa*her °Utfit that ''^ thin-irr/iiw as
-e don't Bsk yon to take "on trust ' what we say of this
W.> don't R.«k jou to Mirre anything.
- " '"" I'ro?'1 thi~ w"Kh<'r "•'"• " "•'«' ^ our
We will ghip n 1900 Electric "Self-Working" Washer to any
responsible party— and prepay freight in full.
Take this washer and use it n month— FREE.
Dp four washings.
Find out for yourself what this wnshrr is — what it does —
what it saves.
When you know all about the washer — make up your mind.
it it saves you care and worry— saves trouble with servants
—and lessens wear on your washable clothes— keep it.
We will allow you n liberal discount for cash payment or—
you can pay by the week, or the month— whichever suits yon.
If you pay by the month, you really IH the washer pay for
itself, because, we do not ask you for as much monev each
month as the washer saves for you.
The washer is paid for in H very short time.
Then it keeps right on saving for you every week.
If it should happen that you are not pleased with the washer
~2, ,,r •vou hllve trit'd it four weeks— don't keep it.
Tell ns you don't want the washer— that is all.
Vou will not be asked to pay anything.
• %£&§ fil£t use of a 190° Electric "Self- Working" Washer
is FRKE. The trial costs you nut a penny.
You know we could not afford to make such an offer if this
washer was not all we claim.
It is all we claim— and more — so we sny— write at once for
our new illustrated Washer Book.
We will ( end it to you for the asking.
And it is the most interesting Washer Book ever printed—
finely illustrated— a beauty in itself.
Your name and address on a post card— or in a letter— sent to
us today will get you this book, postpaid. l>t/ return mail.
Don't tire yourself out worrying over "Wash-Day."
Let a 1900 Electric "Self- Working" Washer shoulder the
burden.
Let "the contented servant" help keep your other servants
contented and save your clothes from the danger of old-
fashioned Wash-Days."
For the book, write to The ]<mi Washer Company, 3W9 Henry
Street, liinahamton, JV. Y.
Or. ifi/oti lire in Canada, write tu The JSKH Washer Company,
S>5 Yunge Street, Toronto. Ont.
No stamps necessury. Just write.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
TIFFANY BLUE BOOK
CHRISTMAS EDITION
TIFFANY & CO., Fifth Avenue and 37th Street, New York
The 1908 Tiffany Blue Book
is ready for distribution and
will be sent upon request
As heretofore, this annual
catalogue is issued in season
to assist Christmas shoppers
in making their selection
The current issue, the 15th
of the new series, contains
666 pages and like previous
editions is without illustrations,
but photographs of articles
described may be had upon
request and to those known to
the house or who will make
themselves known by satisfac-
tory references, Tiffany & Co.
will send for inspection, selec-
tions from their stock
Tiffany & Co. manufacture
solely for their own trade at
retail. Their wares are not
sold to other dealers and can
be purchased only from their
establishment in New York
or the branches in Paris and
London
A few items of interest taken
from the Blue Book are enu-
merated below:
Watch fobs with
seal - $22 upward
Gold barettes set
with pearls - - $23
Ladies' gold
watches - - $25
gold
- $50
Men's
watches
Gold lavalliers set
with semi-precious
stones - $50
Pair of silver bon-
bon dishes with
spoon, in case - $18 "
Child's silver cup,
napkin ring, knife,
fork and spoon - $36 "
Silver after-dinner
coffee pot, sugar
bowl and cream
pitcher - $50
Many more costly articles as
well as others less expensive
will be found alphabetically
arranged in the Blue Book
TlFFANY&Co.
Fifth Avenue New York
Vol. L
No, 5
OVERLAND MONTHLY
An Illustrated Magazine of the West
CONTENTS FOR NOVEMBER, 1907
THE ANGELUS (Verse.)
Heard at the Mission Dolores, 1868.
FRONTISPIECE.— Statue of Father Junipero Serra
WHAT THE CATHOLIC CHURCH HAS DONE FOR
SAN FRANCISCO
Illustrated with Photographs.
DREAMS OF ARCADY. Verse ....
SAN FRANCISCO (FROM THE SEA). Verse
THE PACIFIC COAST AND THE PANAMA CANAL
Illustrated with Photographs.
THE POET. Verse
PERILS OF BIG GAME HUNTING
Illustrated with Photographs.
WASTED SWEETS. Verse
A NEW ERA IN THE PHILIPPINES
Illustrated with Photographs.
WHAT THE BOY KNOWS. (Verse)
IN THE CALCIUM LIGHT.
Delmas — Always a Gentleman ...
The New Governor of New Mexico
"YO NO QUIERO CASAR. Verse ....
RUDOLPH SPRECKELS— THE GENIUS OF THE
SAN FRANCISCO GRAFT PROSECUTION
Illustrated with Portrait.
DOWN AT THE WOMAN'S CLUB. Verse.
A MEDIEVAL ROMANCE
Illustrated with sketch by Alice Resor.
THE VENGEANCE OF THE WILD
TO PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. Verse
VILLA LIFE ON CAPRI
Illustrated with Photographs.
AT THE GOLDEN HORN AND THE GOLDEN GATE
Verse.
THE SHELL MAN
Illustrated with Line Drawings.
CALIFORNIA. Verse
HOW THE RECLAMATION SERVICE IS ROBBING
THE SETTLER
MY MYSTERIOUS PATIENT
RUEF, A JEW UNDER TORTURE
Illustrated with Portrait.
IN THE REALM OF BOOKLAND ....
NEW OIL WELLS AT MONTEREY .
Illustrated with Photographs.
HAMILTON WRIGHT AND
F. MARION GALLEGHER
BEN FIELD
BRET HARTE
JOSEPH R. KNOWLAND
DONALD A. FRAZER
COL. W. S. LANIER
HENRY WALDORF FRANCIS
PIERRE N. BERINGER
AGNES M. MANNING
ARNO DOSCH
"JAC" LOWELL
MARK TWAIN
HERBERT ARTHUR STOUT
LANNIE HAYNES MARTIN
ALOYSIUS COLL
CLINTON SCOLLARD
AMANDA MATHEWS
ALMA MARTIN
L. M. HOLT
BETTY PARKER SMITH
"Q"
BURTON WALLACE
395
396
397
417
418
419
454
455
461
463
470
471
473
475
477
482
483
486
492
493
504
505
509
510
513
514
520
522
Issued Monthly. $1.50 per year, in advance. Fifteen Cents per copy.
Copyrighted, 1906, by the Overland Monthly Company.
Application for entry as second-class mail matter has been made at the San Francisco, Gal.,
Bee, under Act of Congress of March 3, 1879. Northwestern offices at 74 Hirbour Build-
ing, Butte, Montana, under management of Mrs. Helen Fitzgerald Sanders.
Published by the OVERLAND MONTHLY COMPANY, San Francisco, California.
773 Market Street.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
Ill
ROYALlRCffl
CORSETS
$1.00 TO $10.00
BON TON
$1.00 TO $10.00
Combine features of Style
and Fit which make them the
choice of Modistes wherever
fine dressmaking is
A FAIR OFFER!
to convince
SOLD BYALL LEADING DEALERS ON THE PACIFIC COAST
DYSPEPTICS
and those suffering from
Stomach Troubles
of the efficiency of
fflycoione
I will send a
$1.00 BOTTLE FREE
Only one to a family
to any one NAMING THIS MAGAZINE, and
enclosing 25c. to pay forwarding charges. This
offer is made t*o demonstrate t»he efficiency
of this remedy.
Glycozone is absolutely harmless.
It cleanses the lining membrane of the stom-
ach and thus subdues inflammation, thus helping
nature to accomplish a cure.
GLYCOZONE cannot fail to help you, and
will not harm you in the least.
Indorsed and successfully used by leading
physicians for over 15 years.
Sold by leading druggists. None genuine
without my signature.
Chemitt and Graduate of the "Ecole Centrale del Arti et Manu-
facture! de Paris," (France).
57 Prince Street, New York City,
FREE!— Valuable booklet en how to treat diseases.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
Fourth Edition— 100th Thousand
Within Twenty-five Days After Publication
The Shepherd of the Hills
A Novel by Harold Bell Wright, Author of "THAT PRINTER OF UDELL'S"
'A •terlinsr food novel"
—Chicago Daily News.
"A mo»t interesting story"
— St. Louts Republic.
"Deserving of generous praise"
— Ch tcajfo Jou rnal.
"Better than the author's first work"
—Boston Transcript.
"It Is a itory of human emotions"
—Nashville Banner.
"The characters are excellently por-
trayed"— Ntui York Globe.
THE SHEPHERD
OFTHBHILlrS
"Amidst all the ordinary literature of
the day.it is as a pure, white stone
setup alongadrearyroadofunend-
ing monotony"— Buffalo Courier.
"It is a heart-stirring1 story. A tale to
bring: laughter and tears; a story
to be read and read again"
— Grand Rapids Herald.
"One of the really good books of the
year. . . . A powerful and analyti-
cal study of character"
— Cleveland Plain Dealer.
"The storyis a delightful mingling of
love and sadness, of strength and
weakness" — Buffalo Times.
35% patfes. Eight Illustrations by Weddell. 12mo. Cloth. Ornamented Cover. $1.50
Author's biography and portrait, printed on India tint In double-tone (5x7%), with every book
For Sale Wherever Books Are Sold
/T^ A "V A • f^^± t^V%^mfm A Guide for Book Buyers.
CATALOG FREE wasjfc&s*'
o£ a11. the VubliahMfc
Bargains on ever.v page.
Bibles, Periodicals, etc.
Our mammoth catalog advertises over 25,000 books of all publishers. Every book carried in stock. Orders filled
promptly. Great reductions. Big savings. Catalog sent, postage prepaid, free on request. A quarter million buyers
testify to the advantages we offer. Every purchaser a satisfied customer. We want your orders. Our prices are con-
vincing. Unequaled service for handling Public, Private and School Library orders.
buM..h«iin5 THE BOOK SUPPLY COMPANY, E. W. Reynolds, Secy, and Treas. incorporated 1399
Largest Sellers of Books by Mall In the World 266-268 Wabash Avenue, CHICAGO, ILL.
**'• will nut hom-r n-qni'st» for oHtnlon from large cities like New York, Chicago. Philadelphia. Boston, etc.
A HANDBOOK OF
THE PHILIPPINES
BY HAMILTON M. WRIGHT
A practical reference book to the Philippines
today— their commerce, productions, in-
dustries, and opportunities. The volume follows
exactly the lines of Clement's very successful
Handbook of Modern Japan." Mr. Wright
presents in this volume an amazing amount
information relating to the Islands, of
terest to the traveller and to all who have
T contemplate having any commercial re-
lations with them. With maps and 150
illustrations. Net? $1>40
OF ALL BOOKSELLERS
A. C. McCLAJRG & CO.
PUBLISHERS CHICAGO
Whether for racing hull, auxiliary,
commercial craft or family launch, the depend-
able Scripps 4-cylinder Engine will give you
more down-right hard work and satisfaction
than any other engine in the world — NONE ex-
cepted. In the racing craft, it gives excep-
tional speed (note cut above) with scarcely
any vibration; in the family launch, it con-
sumes MUCH less fuel than a 2-cycle engine.
Long life? Well, it will
outlast your boat. Send
to-day for catalog.
DEALERS. AGENTS, BOAT BUILDERS
will overlook a splendid opportunity
if they fail to write for our proposition
SCRIPPS MOTOR COMPANY
6O5 Trumbull Ave.,
DETROIT, - MICH.
2cyl..8-IO h. p.
4cyl.. 15-20H. p.
SCRIPPS
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
A Special Offer to the Readers of
This
Paris Pattern No. 1796
LADIES' SHIRT WAIST
7 Sizes — 32 to 44
Paris Pattern No. 1 741
GIRLS' JUMPER ORES
With Guimpe
4 Sizes— 6 to 12 years
Magazine
WE will GIVE FREE
any one of these Paris
Patterns or our large
catalogue illustrating 1000 up-to-
date styles with a year's sub-
scription to
PARIS MODES
50 cents will bring a most wel-
come visitor to your home twelve
times a year.
PARIS MODES
is the authority on FASHIONS
as each issue shows the newest
Paris Patterns — the only high-
grade, ten cent paper pattern
that allows for all seams. Every
number has useful hints en sew-
ing and dress making.
PARIS MODES
is indispensable to the HOUSE-
KEEPER as it is helpful in
every department of the home.
PARIS MODES
is a LITERARY MAGA-
ZINE as it contains bright,
clean, interesting stories for young
and old.
Send 50 cents at once to
Paris Modes Company
20 West 24th Street
New York
(A three months' trial subscrip-
tion sent for 1 0 cents)
Paris Pattern No. 1908
LADIES' WORK APRON
4 Sizes— 32, 36, 40 and 44
Paris Pattern No. 2065
LADIES' KIMONO DRESSING-SACK
7 Sizes— 32 to 44
V,
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
CONVENIENCE !
ECONOMY !
PURITY !
ARE MERITS OF
BORDEN'S
Eagle Brand
Condensed
Milk
Pioneer Brand
Evaporated
Milk
(UNSWEETENED)
USB IN ALL RECIPES REQUIRING MILK OR CREAM
Recipe Book by Mail
BORDEN'S CONDENSED MILK COMPANY
Established 1857 "LEADERS OF QUALITY" New York
ON SAVINGS ACCOUNTS
You may Mart an account with any amount
you wuhorer $1.00. Send check, money
ler.expreu order or by registered letter and
retu™ '">•" you will receive your bank
. We pay 4 per cent interest and com-
3° anj
CAPITAL AND SURPLUS
Over $3,000,000.00
TOTAL ASSETS
Over $12,000,000.00
or our Booklet on Banking by Mail
CALIFORNIA SAFE DEPOSIT
ANDTRUST COMPANY
Ca lif ornia ••* Montgomery Sts.
SAN FRANCISCO, California.
THE GERMAN SAYINGS
AND LOAN SOCIETY
526 CALIFORNIA STREET.
San Francisco, Cal.
Guaranteed Capital and Surplus. $2, 603, 755.68
Capital actually paid up in cash. 1,000,000.00
Deposits, June 29, 1907 38,156,931.28
OFFICERS— President, N. Ohlandt; First
Vice-President, Daniel Meyer; Second Vice-
President, Emil Rohte; Cashier, A. H. R.
Schmidt; Assistant Cashier, William Herr-
mann; Secretary, George Tourny; Assistant
Secretary, A. H. Muller; Goodfellow & Eells,
General Attorneys.
BOARD OF DIRECTORS— N. Ohlandt,
Daniel Meyer, Emil Rohte, Ign. Steinhart,
I. N. Walter, J. W. Van Bergen, F. Till-
mann, Jr., E. T. Kruse and W. S. Goodfel-
low.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
vli
INCORPORATED 1864
COR. MARKET, McALLISTER AND JONES STREETS, SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.
The objects for which this association are formed are, that by its operations, the depositor
thereof may be able to find a
And borrowers may have an opportunity of obtaining from it the use of moderate capital, on
giving good and sufficient security for the use of the same.
President
OFFICERS
..JAMES R. KELLY Secretary and Treasurer
Attorneys TOBIN & TOBIN
.R. M. TOBIN
Any person can become a depositor of this society on subscribing to the by-laws.
Deposits can be made from $1 up to $3,000.
Loans made on security of real estate within the city and county.
Bank open daily from 10 a. m. to 3 p. m. Sundays and holidays excepted. Saturdays from
10 a. m. to 12 m.
Growth
of Deposits ^
il
ll
Hill
II HI I
nil! a
"A Bank that enjoys the confidence of
its own home folks to such an extent*
as to make THESE FIGURES possible
has clearly demonstrated its right, to
the confidence of the public through-
out, both state and nation."
In all American and European financial centers,
the Scandinavian American Bank of Seattle is
recognized not only as a Safe Bank, but as one of
the strongest banks in the Northwest, one of the
most conservative in America. With Resources exceeding $12,-
000,000.00 and a Reserve approximating $4,000,000.00, this bank
affords to its depositors the fullest measure of security; and the
most liberal terms that are possible, consistent with that
security.
Banking
By Mail
'o
Compound
Interest*
Alaska Building, Seattle,
ne of Scandinavian American Bank
No matter where you live you may Send your Deposit by Mail, and you
will receive by return mail our bank pass book with the amount credited
therein. Savings accounts opened from $1.00 up. Interest at 4 per cent
begins first of each month. Booklet mailed if desired.
Scandinavian American Bank
•Alaska Building, Seattle, Washington!
vlll
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
A dainty piece of
silver will prove
an acceptable holi-
day gift. If you se-
lect wisely it will be
1847 ROGERS BROS!'
"Silver Plate that Wears"
The brand that is
inseparably associ-
ated with quality.
Sold by all dealers.
SW-ml for our NewCatalogue
• Li-37» showing all patterns.
Meriden Britannia Company.
Meriden, Conn.
There is nothing so soothing as a mother's
kiss, except
Mrs, Window's Soothing
Syrup
Guaranteed under the Food and Drugs
Act. June 30. 1906. Serial number 1098
Millions of Mothers will tell you
It softens the gums.
It'allays pain.
It cures wind cholic.
It is the best remedy for diarrhoea.
It is absolutely harmless.
For sixty'years it has proved the best
remedy for children teething. Be sure
you ask for
Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup
and take no other.
The PROVIDENT
Life and Trust
Company. . . .
OF » PHILADELPHIA
Organized and controlled by members of the
Society of Friends.
Insurance in Force $187,670,839.00
Assets 61,639,557.56
Excess over Liabilities 8,505,533.56
The new policies of the Provident are un-
surpassed for conciseness and simplicity of
form and for adaptability and liberality in all
essentials.
The premium rates of the Provident are
exceedingly low, and are still further re-
duced by large annual dividends.
Agents wanted.
VAIL & ELDREDGE, General Agents,
Call Bldg., S. F., Cal., and
402 Trust Bldg., Los Angeles, Cal.
ESTABLISHED 1840.
Alkaline—Antiseptic—Makes tto
gums strong and healthy, gives tto
teeth a pearly lustre, purifies tto
breath. What more could you as!
of SOZODONT? Do not experi
ment with dentifrices. The teetl
will not stand it.
Stand by SOZODONT and tto
teeth will stand by you.
THE ANGELUS
HEARD AT THE MISSION DOLORES, 1868
Bells of the Past, whose long-forgotten music
Still fills the wide expanse,
Tinging the sober twilight of the Present
With color of romance:
I hear your call, and see the sun descending
On rock, and wave, and sand,
As down the coast the Mission voices blending
Girdle the heathen land.
Within the circle of their incantation
No blight nor mildew falls ;
Nor fierce unrest, nor lust, nor low ambition
Passes those airy walls.
Borne on the swell of your long waves receding,
I touch the further Past —
I see the dying glow of Spanish glory,
The sunset dream and last.
Before me rise the dome-shaped Mission towers ;
The white Presidio ;
The swart commander in his leathern jerkin,
The priest in stole of snow.
Once more I see Portala's cross uplifting
Above the setting sun;
And past the headland, northward, slowly drifting
The freighted galleon.
0, solemn bells; whose consecrated masses
Eecall the faith of old—
0, tinkling bells! that lulled with twilight music
The spiritual fold ;
Your voices break and falter in the darkness ;
Break, falter and are still:
And veiled and mystic, like the Host descending,
The sun sinks from the hill.
„, _.— *c.
FOLLOWING Ml ,N DJECO. JULY 10. 1783-
K)NT£f!Er,JU/l£ 3, 1770, SAN ANTONIO D£ PAOUA,JULY 14, 1771
:;;. 177), S'AN LUIS" 0BJSP0. SEPT, i, 1772. SAW FB4NCI3
•JCT. 9, 1776, SAN JUAN CAPJSTKAflO, NOV. I, 1771;.
JLA/iA. 'JAN, J8. 1777, SAN BUENAVENTURA, MAW. 21. 1782.
AND HIED AUC. 28, J784, IN SAN MISSION, C/S
ILjJ
i;iUlVJ£Nf£H£CT£D BY JANE L. STANFORD, IN THE YEABjSS
.iORY OF FATHER JUNJPERO SERRA, A PHJLANTflP.OFIST SEEKWC fH£
•f!£ OF THE HUMBLEST, A HERO DARING AND MAM TO SACBIFJCE
•l« THE GOOD OF MS FELLOW BEINGS, A FAITHFUL SERVED
~» OF MIS MASTER.
3TATUE OP FATHER JUNIPERO SERR4 AT MONTEREY, CALIFORNIA.
Photo Courtesy Charles Sedgwick Aiken, Esq.
NOVEMBER, 1907
No. 5
VoLL
BY
HAMILTON WRIGHT AND F. MARION GALLEGHER
ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS.
(In the wonderful story of Catholic San Fran-
cisco is told the romantic history of the city.
History perhaps affords few parallels to the
prodigious labors of the devout Spanish mis-
sionaries who, in their work of evangelization,
first brought civilization to the great Pacific
Slope. To the people of California, possibly
more than all others, the vast accomplishments
of the Catholic church in their metropolis are
therefore of a vital and peculiar interest. But
to all, the tale of this gentle, bloodless conquest
is of value, for it occupies one of the happiest
chapters in American history. Just as the land-
ing of the Pilgrim fathers on the bleak At-
lantic Coast marks the beginning of the New
England civilization, so the coming to sunny
California of Father Juhipero Serra and those
who followed him signalized the establishment
of a civilization not less complete or less de-
sirable. It is peculiarly fitting that OVER-
LAND MONTHLY, whose pages for forty years
have abounded from time to time with the
bibliography of California, should be the first
popular magazine to treat the subject compre-
hensively.
To-day the Catholic church, by reason of its
charitable works and its wonderful organization
whereby the teachings of Christianity go hand
in hand with the education of the young, is
occupying a far greater field than Father Juni-
pero Serra, exalted as were his hopes, could
have ever dreamed of. But it is impossible in
the brief limits of a magazine article to convey
more than a faint appreciation of the vast
works of the Catholic Church.) — Editors Over-
land.
T WAS in the stirring
year 1776, on the
ninth of October, that
the mission San
Francisco de Assisi
(Dolores) was found-
ed. Named in honor
of St. Francis of As-
sisium, the founder of the Franciscan or-
der, the old mission church still stands at
Sixteenth and Dolores streets, San Fran-
cisco, comparatively unharmed by the
earthquakes and wear of weather of its
venerable one hundred and thirty-one
years.
There is a peculiarly striking metaphor
in the story of this rare old mission edi-
fice. Built of the common clay of the
earth, of great bricks, long ago shaped
by the simple mission Indians, and dried
by the mere heat of the sun, it symbolizes
the work of the earliest missionaries, who,
from the common material of the human-
ity at hand, built up a useful, happy, beau-
tiful and religious life. In San Fran-
cisco to-day there are being erected great
buildings costing hundreds of thousands
and even a million or more of dollars.
Yet among them you will not find one so
impressive and beautiful in artistic con-
ception, nor may you discover one stronger
or more lasting than the mission San
Francisco de Assisi, made from the com-
mon earth and without cost by the gentle
Indians.
Thus, with the mission, came to San
Francisco its name. And thus came
Christianity to San Francisco in a mem-
orable year; for the thirteen original col-
onies, through their delegated assembly,
had, in that year, declared themselves in-
dependent of British rule, and Thomas
Jefferson signed the immortal Declara-
tion of Independence. Thomas Jef-
398
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
fereon then knew as little
of- the Pacific Coast as
we to-day know of Pata-
gonia. But the pious
iscan fathers, who
had ventured into every
foot of the unknown re-
gion, foretold the great
civilization to come to
the vast Pacific Coast.
The founding of the
California Missions has
MO classic in Ameri-
can history. For almost
three centuries after its
nominal discovery a vast
region inhabited by many
thousands of peaceful In-
dian-, devoted to agricul-
ture, had remained un-
known. Then came the
Franciscan missionaries,
and in a few years these
worthy priests built up
THE BEAUTIFUL, MISSION DOLORES AT 16TH AND
DOLORES STREETS', SAN FRANCISCO. FOUNDED OCTO-
BER 9, 1776. Courtesy Joseph R. Knowland
a number
of • flike a story from the Bible which is, at
amazing communities, the missions, wheref
I I
I lonce, the finest literature in all the world.
thousands of Indians, guided and guarded! It is an oft-told story — how, bent on
by the padres, devoted themselves happily
to pastural pursuits. Almost like a tale
from the old Testament it reads, almost
OF DON LUIS ARGUELLO, MEXICAN GOV-
P CALIFORNIA, 1822-1825, IN THE HISTORIC
KMKTLRY OF DOLORES MISSION, SAN FRANCISCO.
schemes of colonization and conquest, the
bold captain, Gaspar de Portola, with a
few Spanish soldiers and the devout Juni-
pero Serra and his little band
of Franciscan missionaries, set
forth in 1769, from Loreto, in
the Peninsula now known as
Lower California, to explore
this vast region, the unknown
empire, the fabulous, misty,
poetically named California.
But let us go further back.
Then we may see why other ef-
forts failed and Junipero suc-
ceeded.
For more than two hundred
and fifty years before Serra's
time, California had been a
magic world. The lure of gold
hung round its birth. As early
as 1510 there had been pub-
lished a Spanish romance,
"La Sergas de Esplanadian,"
in which is described an island
called California, abounding in
precious stones, and whose
rocks were of solid gold of such
a plenty that the very streets
were paved with them. The
island was situated, read the
WHAT THE CATHOLIC CHURCH HAS DONE FOR SAN FRANCISCO 399
NOTRE DAME DES VICTOIRES CHURCH,
FOUNDED IN 1856, AS IT APPEARED BE-
FORE THE FIRE. A TEMPORARY STRUC-
TURE, WHICH IS THE BASEMENT OF THE
NEW BUILDING, NOW OCCUPIES THE
PRESENT SITE, AND IS USED AS A
CHURCH.
book, at the right hand of the Indies,
and very near the terrestrial paradise. The
tale had appealed to imaginations fired
with the legends of chivalry. Soldiers
staked their reputations and kings pawned
jewels of State to find the magic land. But
not until devout priests, with neither
sword nor purse, crossed the desert was
the real discovery of California made.
When Cortes discovered Lower Califor-
nia in 1535 he had named it California
because he wished people to think that he
at last had found the land of gold. On
June 15th, 1579, Captain Francis Drake,
the boldest adventurer of all England,
chanced in Drake's Bay some thirty miles
north of the Golden Gate. Drake prompt-
ly took formal possession of the land in
the name of Queen Elizabeth. But the
Queen seems never to have claimed her
dominion, nor have any of her successors
for these three hundred and twenty-eight
years. Had they done so, doubtless the
Puritans, and not the padres, would have
marked the early founding of San Fran-
cisco. Later, in 1542, had come Juan
Rodrigues Cabrillo, who, sent by the Vice-
roy of Upper Mexico, discovered San
Diego harbor and came almost in sight
of the Golden Gate, while in 1602-3, Se-
bastian Viscaino had visited San Diego
and Monterey Bays. Others had followed,
but the land was neglected until to if
came Captain Portola and Father Juni-
pero Serra.
With the coming of the Franciscan mis-
sionaries in 1769 began an era of coloni-
zation in California. It is to these holy
men that California owes the peace of its
early history. It was their absolute devo-
'tion that won the Indians when the over-
tures of the military had failed.
Their first expedition was fortunate in
being under the direction and spiritual
charge of one of the most remarkable
priests in history. A devout, zealous and
indefatigable man, of dominant yet win-
ning personality, great executive ability
and physical strength, able to endure al-
most any hardship, Junipero Serra was
wonderfully fitted for the supreme task
before him. Father Serra arrived in
San Diego, California, on July 1st, 1769,
after forty-six days' travel overland from
Loreto. On the sixteenth, Father Juni-
pero founded the mission of San Diego.
Under Junipero's unflagging zeal, the
establishing of the missions proceeded with
marvelous rapidity. Within a decade the
Indian tribes were won over and the
music of the Mission bells was heard from
Sonoma to San Diego. The padres
blessed God, for they saw the great har-
ST. MARY'S CATHEDRAL, BUILT IN 1854,
CALIFORNIA AND DUPONT STREETS.
THE TOWER WAS BUILT IN LATER YEARS.
A TEMPORARY CHURCH IS NOW BUILT
WHERE THE HOUSE STOOD.
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
veat of souls to be gathered among the
dusky people of the fair, new country.
The natives grew exceedingly prosperous
ami happy. Under the guidance of the
Fathers, they planted great crops and
raised vast herds of sleek cattle. They
one of the happiest pages in American his-
tory.
When Mexico adopted a constitution in
1824 each civilized Indian was declared a
citizen of the Republic and lands were
given to him. A few Americans, who had
I'ATIIER VILARRASA, WHO IN DECEMBER, 1850, CAME TO
f FRANCISCO AND PERFORMED MANY HELPFUL DEEDS IN
TURBULENT MINING COMMUNITY.
From an old print. Courtesy "Dominicana."
wen. aiiiipl,., ,|,.v,mt. reverential— yet already drifted across the great prairies
vn: but the padres were at hand to over the Santa Fe trail, acquired huge
In f £ T I™ • t0 .T bl°°dy ^ants of land' while the native Spanish
the Atlantic Slope, the population shared in the general distri-
the mission Indians is bution. The missionaries, thus deprived
THE MOST REVEREND PATRICK WILLIAM RIORDAN, D. D., ARCHBISHOP OF SAN FRAN-
CISCO, WHOSE LIFE HAS BEEN ONE OF EXTRAORDINARY HELPFULNESS TO THE
COMMUNITY.
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
PETER H. BURNETT, THE FIRST
CIVIL GOVERNOR OF CALIFORNIA,
KI.KCTED NOVEMBER 13, 1849,
\\llo EMBRACED THE CATHOLIC
FAITH.
of their authority, returned to Spain and
Mexico. The secularization of the pros-
perous missions, wrought not only death
to the Indians, but general demoralization
to tin- Crowing population. Speedily the
Indian* (Irii'tcil to the cities and away
from tin- fields. They were plied with
drink and encouraged in vices in order
that they inii^ht be the more readily fleeced
of their lands. An unparalleled era of
confiscation and plundering followed.
Plague and disease took them; they died
liioiHimds, and in less than a gen-
>n had become almost extinct. The
<>!' tin- missions meant the destruc-
tion of religious life in California.
In ls-",i; ih,. Mexican Government de-
to hand over the dying church of
•rnia to its first Bishop, Fr. Fran-
<i:m-i;i Diego y Moreno, who was
consecrated in 1840. Bishop Garcia
labors] under great disadvantages. His
!iat known as the "mission rob-
IKT n-gim.'." The Pious Fund, established
for the support of the missions, was con-
fiscated and no interest was paid as had
been promised when the Government ap-
propriated it. Pio Pico, the provisional
overnor of California, sold at auction,
without authority, a half dozen of mis-
sions, and they went for a song. Years
afterwards the rightful title in the Church
was established in the United States court.
In 1854 the Bishop, discouraged and
heart-broken, wrote to Pio Pico stating
his wish to have a successor appointed for
himself, and that a new force of priests
be sent from Europe, their expenses to be
paid from the Pious Fund. His wishes
were not respected, and death soon
brought him relief.
The first Bishop of the Californias is
buried in the sanctuary of the old mission
church of Santa Barbara, which served as
his cathedral. Father Gonzalez Rubio, his
vicar-general, acted as administrator of
the diocese during the Mexican war. After
the conclusion of the treaty with Mexico,
in 1847, California became a part of the
United States, and the cruel conditions
which had confronted Bishop Garcia were
relaxed.
On January 24th, 1848, James W. Mar-
shall, a carpenter and wheelright, dis-
covered gold on the north fork of the
American Eiver.
The news flew around the globe. All
the world thronged to California; across
the vast West trailed prairie schooners in
endless procession. Ships from every port
filled the bay of San Francisco. In Au-
gust, 1847, there were but 459 people in
RT. REV. GARCIA DIEGO Y MORENO,
O. S. F. FIRST BISHOP OF MONTEREY.
From an old print. Courtesy "Domini-
cana."
WHAT THE CATHOLIC CHURCH HAS DONE FOE SAX FRANCISCO
403
ST. BONIFACE'S CHURCH, GOLDEN GATE
AVENUE. FRANCISCAN. BURNED AND
NOW BEING REBUILT.
San Francisco, of whom half were In-
dians. In 18-19, 77,000 people came to
the State, and the city became the base of
vast operations. Among the gold seekers
came many of the Catholic faith, but in
the vast army of adventurers were many
for whom there was no religious provision.
Letters were sent to Eastern prelates,
Archbishop Hughes, of New York, among
them, stating the lamentable condition of
affairs. Priests were needed not only to
lead in spiritual effort, but to care for
the sick, for the victims of plague, for the
unfortunate, the children and the aged;
also were needed the Catholic Sisterhoods,
who. by their consecrated lives, might stir
ap in the hearts of rough men the innate
chivalrous respect for women, and thus
induce a leaven into the turbulent popula-
tion. Fortunately, at this time in Rome,
a general chapter of the Dominican Or-
der was being held. Representing his Or-
der in the United States was Fr. Joseph
Sadoc Alemany, who for ten years had
labored in the missions of Kentucky and
Tennessee. It seemed providential that
Fr. Alemany should be sent to this most
trying place.
He knew the laws and customs of this
country: he counted among his admiring
friends the blunt but progressive Andrew
Jackson, and he was peculiarly able to
harmonize the old regime and the new,
the vividly contrasting epochs that seem
to meet in those tremendous days of gold.
Bishop Alemany was consecrated in the
Dominican Church of the Minerva in
Rome, June 30, 1850. When Bishop Ale-
many. Fr. Vilarrasa, a fellow Dominican
priest, and Mother Mary Gomaere arrived
in San Francisco, December 7, 1850, they
found a strange land of strange tongues
and stranger customs. But a heart was
in the flannel-shirted and booted popula-
tion, lavish and reckless to a fault. On the
llth of December, a grand reception was
tendered to 'the Bishop in the humble
school room of the Church of Saint Fran-
cis, which had been already built by
Father Langlois. Only a small percent-
age of the large assemblage, gathered to
express their respect, was enabled to enter.
Among the features was a purse of $1350,
MOTHER LOUISA, WHO SUCCEEDED
MOTHER MARY AS SUPERIOR OF THE
DOMINICAN COMMUNITY. A WOMAN
OF GREAT TALENTS, FORCE OF CHAR-
ACTER AND GENTLENESS. MOTHER
LOUISA IN GIRLHOOD WAS KNOWN
AS MISS FANNY EWING, ADOPTED
DAUGHTER OF THOMAS EWING, SEC-
RETARY OF THE INTERIOR IN THE
CABINETS OF PRESIDENTS TAYLOR
AND FILLMORE.
Courtesy "Dominicana."
104
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
presented to Bishop Alemany to assist him
in visiting his vast diocese that extended
from the Rocky Mountains to the West-
ern Sea. In those early days it was cus-
tomary for the priests to make long jour-
on horseback on the rough trails
that led to the remote settled districts
throughout California. Two hundred
- of such travel was not accounted an
••!•> linary trip. Physicians in the
land were few, and calls to assist the sick
were perhaps even more frequent than to
r to the dying. Bishop Alemany,
accounted one of the finest horsemen of
California, remained devoted to the
exercise for many years.
\ the time the young bishop arrived,
beside.- tin- Mission Dolores, which was
thru three miles from town, there was only
one church of any denomination, that of
mcis, in all the great mining
community. And, moreover, there were
two priests, Fr. Langlois and Fr.
6. Fr. Anderson, who had built a
chapel in Sacramento, had been carried off
by cholera but two weeks before. There
were no churches in the near vicinity since
the missions of San Rafael and San Jose
had been sold under the unauthorized or- .
i '"ovisional Governor Pio Pico.
In Bishop Alemany a leader arose for
"i'li1. lie was a marvelous church
builder and organizer. Real leaders,
> T laymen or ecclesiastics, have, we
• •', always been and always will be,
inspired from on high. The same power
that guided Lincoln and Washington,
~o Moses and Saint Paul. No one
i a more conspicuous part in the up-
lift of California than did this remarkable
bislmp. To the new community the
;>, aided by a handful of clergy, min-
Qg to a widely scattered flock, under
condition! of hardship, poverty and suft'er-
••d other religious workers. In
•' -u it Fathers. Their mis-
sion was established in 1854, when seven
Fathers and six Brothers settled at Santa
"i'i San Jose. The sisters of No-
i"'1. six in number, came down to
;.-in Jose from Oregon in that year. In
Bishop Alemany attended the first
Plenary Council of Baltimore, and before
he returned, he secured five Sisters of
harity who, during the. year, laid the
'iindahons of their apostolate. There
had been seven sisters in the party, but
two died of fever in crossing Panama. To
the Council of Baltimore, Bishop Ale-
many explained religious conditions in
California, and since the Golden Gate had
become of more importance than the old
Mexican capital of Monterey, because of
the needs of its increasing population, San
Francisco was made an archdiocese. Rap-
idly San Francisco grew. In 1853 there
was a Catholic population of 40,000 in the
city, with 38 priests scattered over the
archdiocese. Wealth had come to the
pioneers. On July 17, 1853, the corner-
stone was laid for Saint Mary's Cathedral.
The edifice cost $175,000, and added
greatly to the finished appearance of the
city. In '1854, the men of San Francisco
of all classes cleared a great sand hill, and
filled up a swamp, for an asylum on the
Palace Hotel site on Market street. The
work was undertaken at the instance of
Father McGinnis, who stirred the people
to the necessity of building a permanent
home for the orphans. There were many
orphans, with the cholera and the wild ex-
MOTHER MARY, WHO ACCOMPAN-
IED ARCHBISHOP ALEMANY AND
FR. VILARRASA TO CALIFORNIA IN
1850.
From an old print. Courtesy "Domini-
can a."
THE LATE ARCHBISHOP GEORGE MONTGOMERY, COAD-
JUTOR BISHOP OF SAN FRANCISCO, ONE OF THE MOST
POPULAR FIGURES IN THE HISTORY OF CALIFORNIA. A
MAN DISTINGUISHED FOR HIS STERLING MILITANT
PATRIOTISM, CRUSADES AGAINST INIQUITY, KINDLINESS
AND CHARITABLENESS. ARCHBISHOP MONTGOMERY DIED
JANUARY 10, 1907.
citing life of mining days to carry off
their parents. The building costing $24,-
000, contributed to by all citizens, was in
charge of the Sisters of Charity. Later,
in 1861, the foundlings and younger
children were transferred to a fifty-seven
acre tract off Hunter's Point, in South
San Francisco, on which already stood a
vine-covered cottage. The present large
infant asylum, on this site, was dedicated
in 1863. When the growth of San Fran-
cisco rendered desirable the sale of the
Market street site, the Roman Catholic
Orphan Asylum (also known as Mt. St.
Joseph's) was founded, being dedicated
in 1874. Mt. St. Joseph's really consists
of two asylums, one for the infants at the
foot of the hill, and the other for the
larger children at the summit. For years
the latter building has been one of the
conspicuous public edifices of the city.
To-day, that portion of the asylum de-
SOME MEMBERS OP THE FACULTY OF SACRED HEART COLLEGE.
voted to the infants harbors about six
hundred children and receives 150 found-
lings, besides orphan babies, every year.
As the babies grow larger, they are trans-
ferred to the building at the summit.
When the girls reach from eight to, say,
fourteen years, they are transferred to the
technical school which is run by the Sisters
of Mercy, where they learn a useful and
practical education. The boys, on the
other hand, are sent to St. Vincent's Asy-
lum at San Eafael, under charge of the
Christian Brothers, where about 600 child-
ren are cared for.
What service is so thoroughly organized
as that for the poor by the church!
For 34- years, until his death in April
14, 1888, the work went on under Arch-
bishop Alemany. In many respects, the
period during which he served was
the most critical and vital in the history
of San Francisco. Just as the name of
Junipero Serra brings to our minds the
California mission regime, and that of
Archbishop Kiordan, the era of modern
San Francisco, the great metropolis of the
Pacific Coast, with its half million souls
and myriad activities, so that of Arch-
bishop Alemany stands forth as the apos-
tle of the strenuous days of gold.
Many interesting traits of Bishop Ale-
many are recalled by old-timers in Cali-
fornia. Though of slight frame and small
in stature, he was erect and brisk until his
last days. Says a writer in the Monitor:
"He had the pride of the Californian, but
the humility of a saint. On Holy Thurs-
day afternoon he used to wash the feet of
twelve altar boys in imitation of Christ's
action at the Last Supper." He was very
fond of children, and at the old cathedra]
they would line up on either side to re-
ceive individually the kind word he knew
so well how to give. The bishop possessed
a marvelous faculty of inspiring to their
best efforts those with whom he came in
contact.
In 1883, feeling the pressure of his
laborious but happy years, and aware of
his diminishing physical strength, Arch-
bishop Alemany applied to Eome for a
youthful helper, who also would succeed
him. The Holy See, with wise provision
for the great future of San Francisco,
gave him in that year, as his coadjutor,
Most Eeverend Patrick W. Eiordan, who,
as pastor of Saint James Parish, Chicago,
had won wide recognition for his extra-
ordinary executive ability, deep scholar-
ship, and great personal magnetism. On
December 28, 1884, Archbishop Alemany
formally resigned the See of San Fran-
cisco and returned to a Dominican Monas-
tery in Spain.
The advent of Archbishop Eiordan
marks the period when San Francisco
emerged from her indefinable status as a
former mining camp, to her present recog-
nized position as a great seaport metropo-
lis.
408
uVKHLAXD MONTHLY.
The splendid work of Archbishop Rior-
dan was not effected without difficulties,
which demanded such an expenditure of
energy that eventually the indomitable
prelate found himself unable physically to
bear the strain. Accordingly, in Septem-
ber, 1902, the Right Reverend George
Mont^onirrv. Bishop of Monterey and
Los Angeles, was appointed by the Pope
jtttoi Archbishop of San Francisco.
roved an ideal prelate in his new and
responsible position, and his sudden death
last January was regarded as a civic
calamity.
ough education of scholarly and devoted
priests.
It is difficult indeed to select one field of
activity as more characteristic than any
other of Archbishop Riordan's episcopate.
His dynamic energy, optimism and high
ideals have been applied in many fields.
To-day the work of the Catholic Church
in San Francisco is as broad and deep as
life itself. From the cradle to the grave
all are taken care of. For every field of
charitable effort there exists an organized
Catholic body to specifically fill that field.
Parentless children or the children of the
Lil
LAYING THE CORNER STONE OF ST. BONIFACE CHURCH
\ iiliisln)]) I { Jordan early directed his
Lvnius for organization to the work of
•Imation. Side by side with the
•tinnally active era of parish church
building, which has characterized his
years of episcopal administration, has
essed the era of buildings dedicated
to Catholic education, a work in which
have IxM-n inaugurated, not only a
y.-ry large number of parochial schools,
in which the lav youth receives religious
anil moral training with his general edu-
cation, but Nvhk'h has included the thor-
poor, are reared, educated, given some use-
ful profession; if in old age they are un-
fortunate, they are cared for, and if at
death there are no funds for burial or the
tombstone, they also are furnished.
Caring for children is undertaken on a
"colossal scale, and is extended to every
variety of circumstances. Children, for
instance, whose parents work, are looked
after by the Sisters of the Holy Family,
whose convent is in Hayes street and Fill-
more. Here over sixty women, nearly all
natives of California, and nearly all young
WHAT THE CATHOLIC CHURCH HAS DONE FOR SAN FRANCISCO
409
HOME FOR THE AGED POOR, MAINTAINED BY THE
LITTLE SISTERS OF THE POOR IN SAN FRANCISCO.
women, gather into their Day Homes the
babies and children who are left at home.
This order of the Holy Family is of locaJ
origin, and is unique in being established
in no other diocese in the
world.
Since the great fire, many
calls have been made upon the
Sisters of the Holy Family,
and it is impossible to more
than indicate the great good
they have done among the re-
lief camps of the city.
Among the several institu-
tions maintained by the Sis-
ters of Charity is St. Francis
Technical School, .where about
100 homeless girls are raised,
educated and taught, also, a
definite profession — the art of
dress-making and embroidery.
So excellent is their education
that, upon graduation, they
command salaries of $4 and $5
a day. In the creation of beau-
tiful trousseaux and of stylish
dresses, above the skill of the
ordinary dressmaker, St. Fran-
cis Technical School ranks
high.
A wonderful work is that
carried on by the Little Sisters
of the Poor, begun in Saint
Servan, in Brittany, in 1839.
The Little Sisters of the
Poor care for destitute old peo-
ple who are over 60 years. At
the present time in San Fran-
cisco there are 19 Sisters who
care for 168 old ladies and 114
aged men at the Home for the
Aged on Lake street and
Fourth avenue. The splendid-
ly equipped building they oc-
cupy is the gift of Mr. E. J.
Le Breton.
All the work, all the drud-
gery of this great institution is
done by the Little Sisters
themselves. The Little Sisters
bake the bread and scrub the
floors. Their whole lives are
consecrated to poverty and
self-sacrifice. Every morning
some of the cheerful Little Sis-
ters beg the food they are to
use during the day.
Of all charitable institutions, none has
more directly conduced to good citizen-
ship than the Youths' Directory, a home
HAPPY OLD LADIES IN THE HOME FOR THE AGED
POOR, MAINTAINED BY THE LITTLE SISTERS OF
THE POOR.
lit)
OVEHLAND MONTHLY.
-n«! school for boys at Nineteenth and temporarily or permanently, to care for
•icia streets, San Francisco. During him. Under the provision made by law,
the past twenty years, 11,000 children the only place to send such a boy would
have been cared for. The State makes an be to a reformatory. Here, in his plastic
annual appropriation of $100 for whole-or- years, he would associate with boys com-
nhans and seventy-five dollars for half- mitted for incorrigibleness, or for crime
which, were they older, would
have sent them to the State or
county prisons. In nine cases
out of ten, perhaps, to send a
good boy into such an institu-
tion is to make him a criminal.
It is for these good boys that
the Youth's Directory was es-
tablished in 1874 by .Arch-
bishop Alemany. Greatly in-
terested in the movement was
the present Vicar-General, the
Very Eev. J. J. Prendergast.
These neglected boys often go
to the bad, while, if given en-
couragement, they will make
good men. The home was built
in 1877 on Howard street, near
Tenth, and here, with Father
Connolly, the present pastor of
St. Paul's as spiritual director,
the Directory continued its
good work for a period of ten
years. Archbishop Eiordan,
who was deeply interested in
the work, in 1887 appointed
Father Crowley spiritual direc-
tor. The Directory rapidly
outgrew three edifices erected
to meet its needs. But the fire
of April 18, 1906, swept away
the handsome $125,000 build-
ing dedicated in 1899, at the
corner of Nineteenth and An-
gelica streets. To-day the boys
of the Youth's Directory are
housed in temporary buildings,
which, with school houses and
dormitory, will accommodate
about sixty boys. For boys
that have a taste for country
life, there is conducted the ag-
ricultural farm at Eutherford.
(This institution will be described in the
December Overland Monthly.)
In 1854, at the solicitation of Father
Hugh Gallagher, S. J., eight Sisters
of Mercy came from Ireland to labor
in this Western field. With the energy
and wisdom which seems to charac-
.i;s "i.i>: ATXT MARGARET BROPHY, BORN
IN COUNTY QALWAY, IRELAND, IN 1805, AND NOW
HAM'Y \VITH THE LITTLE SISTERS OP THE POOR.
orphans, this money being turned over to
the orphans' homes, which are maintained
arious charitable institutions. But
no provision is made for the care of the
boy whose parents, though still living,
are, through illness, accident, misfortune,
*'ilful crime or drunkenness, unable, either
WHAT THE CATHOLIC CHURCH HAS DONE FOR SAN FRANCISCO 411
terize the members of all the Catholic Sis-
terhoods, these self-sacrificing women se-
cured funds for the erection of Saint
Mary's Hospital on Rincon Hill. This in-
stitution, which eventually became one of
the most familiar landmarks in the city
that, was, was dedicated by Father Croke
in 1861. Under the direction of their
able superioress, Mother Baptist Russell,
thfe work of the Sisters of Mercy increased
in efficiency and scope. The hospital is
at present temporarily located on Sutter
street, near Devisadero, and plans for an
up to date and commodious permanent
structure are being completed.
The Sisters of Mercy have like-
wise engaged in the educa-
tional work of the city and the
State, and only last month
celebrated their fiftieth anni-
versary in Sacramento. One of
their distinctive objects is the
care of wayward girls, whom
they house and educate in
Saint Catherine's Home on
Potrero avenue.
After the accession of Arch-
bishop Alemany, the number of
religious orders steadily in-
creased. Both Archbishop Ale-
many and his successor, Arch-
bishop Riordan, encouraged
the coming of the Orders. It
was Archbishop Alemany who
secured the return of the
Franciscans to this State, for
it is with them its earliest re-
ligious history is so closely
connected.
In 1868 there came to Cali-
fornia the Sisters of the Holy
Name, and also the Christian
Brothers. The Salesian Fathers
Presentation Nuns, the Sisters of the Holy
Cross, and the Sisters of Charity of the
Blessed Virgin, and the Sisters of the
Holy Souls.
At St. Boniface's Church on Golden
Gate avenue, and St. Anthony's Church at
Army and Folsom streets, the needs of the
German Catholics of the city are minis-
tered to by the Franciscan Fathers.
The Dominican Fathers, better known
as the Order of Preachers, also came early
and established themselves at St. Domi-
nic's Church on Steiner street.
The Spanish Catholics of the city have
HOME OF FATHER O'NEIL, OF ST. BRENDEN'S
CHURCH, WHICH WAS BURNED IN THE RINCON HILL
DISTRICT, SAN FRANCISCO. SERVICES ARE NOW
CONDUCTED IN A TENT FOR THOSE WHO CANNOT GO
FURTHER. THOUSANDS OF POOR ARE AIDED IN THIS
came in 1897 to work among DISTRICT
the Catholic Italians; in 1885
the Fathers of the Society of Mary, to
minister to the French Catholics; in De-
cember, 1894, the Paulist Fathers, mem-
bers of an Order of American origin,
whose work is the giving of missions and
parochial work.
Among the other orders now engaged in
charitable and educational work in San
Francisco are the Religious of the Sacred
Heart, the Brothers of Mary, the Sisters
of St. Francis, the Dominican Sisters, the
a church dedicated to Our Lady of
Guadaloupe, and served by Spanish
priests.
Father Turck, whose headquarters are
at the rectory of the Church of the Nativ-
ity on Fell street, is in charge of the local
Slavonian colony.
Besides the regular orders and congre-
gations like the Franciscans, the Domini-
cans, the Jesuits and the various sister-
hoods, there are in San Francisco numer-
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
- mi-religions nature, to
which thousands of Catholic San Francis-
'M'loni:. Such are the Third Orders
Sainl Francis and Saint Dominic, the
i Ladies' Aid Society, the Fran-
- . tv and the Knights of Colum-
nained organization was in-
troduced into this city some five years ago,
a nil .it. under the direction of
(iran-1 Kni.irht Keith, is in a most flour-
_r condition. It is no exaggeration to
say that every prominent Catholic man of
San Francisco wears the K. of C. button
on his coat lapel. The knights attend
n sacred functions in a body at stated
IBBALL AT TliK YOUTH'S
DIRECTORY, A WOR-
.<AN KKAXCISCO CHARITY WHICH IN THE PAST
i \\ KN'TY VKAUS HAS CARED FOP RT.TnvTTiM mur^io A XTT^
Quaide, rector of Sacred Heart Parish, is
the founder of this unique organization.
The Catholic Ladies' Aid Society is
composed of prominent Catholic ladies of
the city, and has for its object the succor
of young working girls who have no homes
of their own, and who, thus deprived of
encouragement and advice, would be ex-
posed to serious temptations. Besides at-
tending to the needs of working girls, the
society busies itself with various other
charitable projects. During the Spanish
war it took an active interest in the troops
at the Presidio. The society has just re-
cently opened St. Margaret's Club, a club-
house for self-supporting girls,
on California street.
The Francesca Society of
Saint Ignatius Church and
the Saint Elizabeth Sewing
Society, with headquarters at
Saint Mary's Cathedral, are
two organizations whose mem-
bers devote themselves in a
special manner to the needs of
the poor. They make garments
and distribute them among the
needy throughout the city.
Undoubtedly the best known
charitable organization in con-
nection with the Catholic
Church in San Francisco is
the Saint Vincent de Paul
Society. This society has a
branch in every parish, and
has headquarters at the Cathe-
dral.
To-day the array of Catholic
life in the San Francisco arch-
diocese finds active organiza-
- during the year, and hold regular
- every month.
v of local origin, which is rap-
I'Hy finding favor in San Francisco is the
otal Abstinence Tourist Club. As the
- this is a temperance or-
- but it is a tourist club as well
"ice a year the members take a
:o one or other of the old missions in
state and make the occasion memor-
e U well as enjoyable with appropriate
•remoiih-s. I'!,,. KVverend Joseph P Me-
ber of young people under
Catholic care is estimated at
23,184.
The figures are obtained from the official
Catholic Directory for 1907, and while, of
course, not exact, afford some idea of
Catholic influence. There are 149
churches, 17 stations, 56 chapels, 276
priests, 1 theological seminary, 7 colleges
and academies for boys, and 21 for girls,
1 Normal school, 37 parochial schools,
with 14,822 pupils, 4 orphan asylums with
1'505 inmates> 1 infant asylum, 2 indus-
trial schools, 1 protectory for boys, 1 deaf
FEATURES IN THE PROGRESS OF ST. IGNATIUS COLLEGE.
ON THE LEFT, UPPER, INTERIOR OF ST. IGNATIUS CHURCH BEFORE THE FIRE;
LOWER, INTERIOR OF ST. IGNATIUS CHURCH, 1863; ON THE RIGHT, UPPER, ST.
IGNATIUS CHURCH AND COLLEGE, OCT. 15, 1905; MIDDLE, ST. IGNATIUS COLLEGE,
1863, SITE OF PARROTT BUILDING; LOWER, BEGINNING THE TEMPORARY ST. IGNA-
TIUS COLLEGE, JULY, 1906. Photograph by Turrill & Miller.
Ill
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
in lit i- asylum, 6 hospitals and 6 homes for
:red poor.
The archdiocese also publishes an offi-
cial organ, "The Monitor," which was es-
tablished in 1858, and is now one of the
foremost Catholic weekly journals in the
country.
The educational work carried on under
the auspices of the Catholic Church in
San Francisco is something of which our
Catholic citizens are justly proud. There
are in this city nearly two score schools,
academies and colleges taught by members
of Catholic congregations. The Catholic
child in San Francisco can reach that stage
where education is technically considered
complete by attendance at these schools.
This Catholic education is not the fancy
of an hour or the fad of a day. It has tra-
ditions behind it and ideals before it, and
the one aim of the Catholic teacher is to
reach those ideals in the light of those
traditions. Hence the Catholic school is
conservative, but never excessively so. The
teachers, almost to a unit, are singularly
wide awake, and are quick to grasp what
is best and wisest in current pedagogical
ideas. The result is, the Catholic schools
of San Francisco are fully abreast of the
times.
The success of an educational system
'Irpi'iuls less on the principles which shape
its course than on the individual men and
women who put those principles into prac-
The teacher is the school.
The Catholic teachers of San Francisco
are really teachers in the strictest sense of
the word, for the reason that, almost with-
mit i'\r.'ptinn. they do nothing but teach.
The most prominent exception to this rule
is found in the Jesuits, who conduct St.
Ignatius College. Most of the teachers are
:: priests, who, besides conducting
their classes, perform all duties that fall
to the lot of the Catholic clergyman. But
for tin- most part, the men and women
lirect the destinies of Catholic edu-
""" i" this city are members of Catho-
: teaching orders, who devote their lives
clusively to the work of the classrooms.
is doubtless hard for any one but
a Catholic fully to take the point of view
the members of the several brother-
s and sisterhoods who elect teaching
their life work. One can readily un-
:and how an enthusiastic person can
give up most of his spare moments to the
practice of teaching for teaching's sake;
but it is baffling to comprehend how he
can make the sacrifice of all his time, all
his worldly prospects and nearly all of the
modern social amenities to engage in the
more or less thankless task of instructing
the young. The latter is what the mem-
bers of the Catholic teaching orders do.
Like the monks and nuns of the Middle
Ages, they live the common life and sub-
mit themselves to the will of a superior.
As individuals, they receive no salary,
their food, clothing and other necessaries
being supplied them from the common
fund. As the late Archbishop Montgom-
ery used to put it: "All they have is a
new habit every fourteen months and three
rather slender meals each day."
St. Ignatius College, the largest Catho-
lic College in San Francisco, is identified
with almost the earliest history of the
city. Father Anthony Maraschi arrived
in San Francisco by way of Panama in
November, 1854. Early in 1855 he built
A GROUP OF THE LARGER
SACRED HEART COLLEGE.
BOYS OP
SOME OF THE YOUNGER BOYS AT SACRED HEART COLLEGE.
a small frame church on Market street, be-
tween Fourth and Fifth, then a wilderness
of sand-dunes. In August of that year he
opened a little school in connection with
the church, and there, in an out of the
way cabin in the sand lots was laid the
foundation of the present magnificent Col-
lege of St. Ignatius. St. Ignatius has
won wide prestige for its remarkably thor-
ough and advanced curriculum. In addi-
tion to the regular collegiate studies, the
professional branches, of engineering, law
and medicine are taught, the medical
course having been opened within the last
year. Especial attention is paid to the
courses preparatory to professional train-
ing. Philosophy, which includes Logic,
Metaphysics and Ethics, together with
their history, Scholastic Debate and the
Philosophy of Eeligion, is common to all
three courses. The course preparatory to
Law adds Jurisprudence and Legal His-
tory, Constitutional History and Law,
Political Economy and Eesearch, Parlia-
mentary Law and the Art of Debating, the
Theory and practice of Oratory, especially
Forensic, and the History and Analysis
of the masterpieces of Greek, Latin and
English Oratory.
The course preparatory to medicine em-
braces, besides Philosophy, Biology, par-
ticularly Zoology, Cytology and Embry-
ology, higher French and German, and
special laboratory work in Physics, Chem-
istry and Biology.
The course preparatory to Engineering
over and above Philosophy, takes in
Graphics, or Free-Hand, Geometrical, Me-
chanical and Topographical Drawing,
Higher Mathematics, Assaying, Geology
and Mineralogy, Higher French and Ger-
man, and special Laboratory work in Phy-
sics and Chemistry. These three courses
follow the four years of High School and
the Freshman and Sophomore years of
college, thus completing an undergraduate
curriculum, which for thoroughness is sec-
ond to none in the country. The first six
years of this curriculum aim at imparting
a truly liberal education; the last two, or
Junior and Senior years, aim at preparing
the student directly for the work of the
university proper, or professional schools.
A graduate of St. Ignatius should be en-
titled in his merits to enter at least the
Freshman year of anv College of Law or
Medicine, and the Junior year of any Col-
lege of Engineering.
The general reader can get a fair idea
of the workings of the Catholic school
system in San Francisco and the life of
the Catholic teachers by examining in de-
tail two local institutions which may be
regarded as typical of all the Catholic
OVKRLAXD MONTHLY.
schools of this city. Out on Pell street,
ii Webster and Fillmore, is Sacred
t College, without a doubt the most
.ir private boys' school in San Fran-
The college, besides the regular
senior, junior, sophomore and freshman
classes, has commercial, academic, gram-
itid preparatory departments as well
as evening classes for boys and young men
unable to attend the day sessions. At the
present time the total enrollment of pupils
is upwards of six hundred, and applicants
are turned away almost daily. Scores of
its graduates are prominent in every walk
of the city's life, and the names of many
of its faculty are household words in thou-
sands of San Francisco homes.
Sacred Heart College first opened its
doors in 1874. The original building was
on the corner of Eddy and Larkin streets,
and there the work of the college went on
uninterruptedly, until the great fire of
1906, when the building, together with a
well-stocked museum, a fully-equipped
laboratory and an invaluable library paid
costly toll to the fire demon. Brother
Lewis, the president, had good reason to
be despondent: but the fire was not ex-
tinguished before he was busy on his ar-
rangements for a new building to take up
the work of education at the beginning of
the fall term.
The teaching staff at Sacred Heart Col-
lege numbers twenty-two. Of these, most
are Christian Brothers, but a few secular
men give special instruction in certain
subjects. Brother Lewis himself teaches
the higher mathematics. Prominent
among the faculty are Brother Gregory,
vice president and professor of philosophy
and religion; Brother Leo, professor of
English literature ; Brother Anthony, head
of the department of physics and chemis-
try, and Brother Cyril, assistant professor
of English literature. Professor Karl
Schernstein directs the department of
music, and Professor Ventura is at the
head of the department of modern lan-
guages.
Though there are no "frats" at Sacred
Heart College, the several student societies
have all the advantages of the Greek Let-
BOYS OF THE YOUTHS' DIRECTORY.
DEEAMS OF ARCADY.
417
ter guilds. There is the Azarias Reading
Club, the College Dramatic Club, the
"Blue and White" baseball team, and the
"Blue and White," a monthly publication,
affording ample provision for outlet for
every taste and inclination, literary or
athletic.
The Convent of Notre Dame on Dolores
street, directly opposite the Old Mission,
is a type of the Catholic girls' school of
San Francisco. Tinder the direction of
the Mother Superior, Sister Julia Theresa,
fifteen teachers are employed in the lit-
erary and musical courses. Like the
Jesuits and the Christian Brothers, the
Sisters of Notre Dame have a splendid
reputation as educators, and their prestige
in San Francisco is growing year by year.
Among the best known members of the
teaching force at the Convent of Notre
Dame are Sister Aloyse, Sister Agnes, Sis-
ter Genevine and Sister Mary Anne.
The Catholic colleges and academies of
San Francisco are under the direct control
of the congregations of teachers who con-
duct them, with the Archbishop of San
Francisco at the head of the organization.
All the teachers of the archdiocese are
banded together in an association which
holds meetings at regular intervals where
educational topics are discussed.
The parochial schools — that is, the
grammar schools in connection with the
various churches — are under the direction
of the several parish priests. Of these
schools, two are taught by the Brothers of
Mary, one by the Christian Brothers, and
the remainder by the members of the vari-
ous sisterhoods. A boy graduating from
one of the parochial schools may enter
either Sacred Heart or Saint Ignatius Col-
lege. The girls are accredited at the Col-
lege of Notre Dame and at all the acade-
mies in the city.
The thorough organization and surpris-
ing vitality of the Catholic Church in San
Francisco were splendidly exemplified in
the promptness with which the work of
reconstruction was taken up after the great
fire of April, 1906. Eleven Catholic
houses of worship were completely de-
stroyed in the conflagration, and several
were ruined by the temblor almost beyond
repair.
To-day, all the destroyed churches are
again open to worshipers. The Jesuit
Fathers suffered heavily in the April dis-
aster. Their magnificent Renaissance
stone edifice on Hayes street, near Van
Ness avenue, was one of the first churches
to be destroyed, and with it went Saint Ig-
natius College, which occupied the site
where the Van Ness Theatre now stands,
Nothing daunted, these devoted men at
once set about the work of reconstruction,
with the result that a commodious church
and a well-equipped college, both dedicated
to Saint Ignatius, the soldier priest, at
present stand on Hayes street, near Golden
Gate Park.
DREAMS OF ARCADY
BY BEN FIELD
Toiler, where the north wind blows,
Risking life in cold and chill,
Dreamst thou oft of vine and rose
Upon the gentle slope of hill?
Of orange tree and olive branch,
Of lowing kine and southern ranch ?
Go thou to California fair !
Thy dream shall surely meet thee there.
SAN FRANCISCO
(FROM THE SEA)
BY BRET HARTE
Serene, indifferent of Fate,
Thou sittest at the Western Gate;
Upon thy heights so lately won
Still slant the banners of the sun;
Thou seest the white seas strike their tents.
0 Warder of two Continents !
And "scornful of the peace that flies
By angry winds and sullen skies,
Thou drawest all things, small or great,
To thee, beside the Western Gate.
*****
0 lion's whelp, that hidest fast
In jungle growth of spire and mast,
1 know thy cunning and thy greed,
Thy hard, high lust and wilful deed,
And all thy glory loves to tell
Of specious gifts material.
Drop down, 0 fleecy Fog, and hide
Her skeptic sneer, and all her pride!
Wrap her, 0 Fog, in gown and hood
Of her Franciscan Brotherhood.
Hide me her faults, her sin and blame,
With thy gray mantle cloak her shame!
So shall she, cowled, sit and pray
Till morning bears her sins away.
Then rise, 0 fleecy Fog, and raise
The glory of her coming days;
Be as the cloud that flecks the seas
Above her smoky argosies.
When forms familiar shall give place
To stranger speech and newer face;
When all her throes and anxious fears
Lie hushed in the repose of years ;
When Art shall raise and Culture lift
The sensual joys and meaner thrift,
And all fulfilled the vision, we
Who watch and wait shall never see —
^ ho, in the morning of her race,
Toiled fair or meanly in our place —
But, yielding to the common lot,
Lie unrecorded and forgot.
(From Overland Monthly, July, 1868.)
THE PACIFIC COAST AND THE
PANAMA CANAL
BY JOSEPH R. KNOWLAND
CONGRESSMAN JOSEPH S. KNOWLAND OF
CALIFORNIA.
ITH THE Panama Ca-
nal completed, the an-
nouncement that the
Atlantic fleet was to
visit Pacific waters,
would cause no more
discussion throughout
the United States
than the publication to-day of a press
despatch conveying the information that
the fleet was to visit the coast of Cuba.
Distance and time are the factors that
make the proposed cruise appear out of
the ordinary.
When, during the Spanish-American
war, the battleship Oregon started from
San Francisco on its long run to join the
fleet in Cuban waters, the hazard of the
undertaking lent interest to the event, and
the people of the entire country had vivid-
ly impressed upon their minds a realiza-
tion of the distance to be covered, and the
element of time to be considered, in a
cruise around the Horn. Sixty-five
days, according to official figures, was the
record of the Oregon in that now historic
trip. Forty-six days could easily have
been saved had the great inter-ocean
waterway, now under construction, been
completed. Allowing one day for passing
through the canal, and three days for
coaling and repairs at Colon, the Navy
Department estimates that about nineteen
days only would have been the time con-
sumed by the Oregon.
In the event of war, the difference be-
tween sixty-five and nineteen days in the
arrival of a fleet is too significant for com-
ment. It is not improbable that in the
futiire, with the distance shortened nearly
eight thousand miles between the Atlantic
and Pacific seaboards, the designation
"Atlantic fleet" or "Pacific fleet" will dis-
appear, and we will see chronicled in-
stead the movements of the "American
fleet."
The proximity of California to the isth-
mus, and the wonderful growth of the
State, bringing with it demands for
greater transportation facilities, have
caused Californians to evince more than
ordinary interest in the progress of our
Government at Panama. As one of the
representatives of California in Congress,
I gladly availed myself of. the opportunity
presented of visiting the Canal Zone dur-
ing the Christmas holidays. Senator Flint
and Eepresentative McKinlay were also in
the Congressional party which left Wash-
ington on December 20th, sailing from
New York on the 21st.
2
452
OVEKLAXD MONTHLY.
It was not until .lune, 1906, that Con-
gress finally voted upon the question of
,.f canal, adopting a lock canal
at a level of eighty-five feet in accordance
with the recommendation of the minority
nf the board of consulting engineers. Con-
ni: this fact, our progress has been
wonderful. With a force of thirty thou-
sand employed, the dirt is flying with a
rapidity that should arouse the pride of
American citizen privileged to visit
of smoke to overhang the cut, reminding
one of Pittsburg, or other large manufac-
turing cities.
Unlike our Government, the French
neglected to obtain control of a canal zone,
and also failed to appreciate the import-
ance of sanitation. With them the chief
object was to show results, and they could
not spare the time or money so necessary
for thorough sanitation. We have appre-
ciated from the very outset that proper
\l:m:n ! i;i \CH BUCKET DREDGERS AT PANAMA. THE FRENCH WERE SUPPLIED
WITH \Di:yr\Ti: MACHIXKKY. HUT FAILURE TO APPRECIATE THE IMPORTANCE OF
» \MT\TM)\ BROUGHT DISASTER. UNCLE SAM HAS SOLVED THE DISEASE PROBLEM.
the /.n DP. The greatest amount of exca-
vation is required in Culebra Cut, where
•m;il will be carried through the
mountainous part of the Isthmus. This
strip, over eight miles in length, is the
>t point on the Isthmus. There are
over sixty steam shovels at work, two
hundred and sixty-five dirt trains in op-
eration, together 'with over two hundred
steam and pneumatic drills, causing a pall
sanitation was the key to the whole situa-
tion, and that without caring for the
health of the vast army of employees, we
could not hope for success in the great un-
dertaking. This is why we have provided
pure water supplies for the cities and
towns, installed sewer systems, paved the
streets, and are fighting a great battle, so
far highly successful, for the extermina-
tion of the disease carrying mosquito. It
THE PACIFIC COAST AND THE PANAMA CANAL.
453
is true that thid
sanitation has in-
volved a large out-
lay, but a study of
health statistics
demonstrates that
the expenditure has
been more than jus-
tified.
Newspaper men,
sent to Panama for
the purpose of find-
ing fault, have in
numerous instances
been compelled, af-
ter a thorough in-
vestigation, to give
expr e s s i o n to
amazement at the
wonderful progress
made, finding but
little opportunity to
criticise.
It is not generally realized, but never-
theless a fact, that the Pacific terminus of
the canal, La Boca, is actually twenty
miles farther east than the Atlantic ter-
minus. This is due to the northerly loop
which the Isthmus makes in the section
containing the Canal zone.
(LAND ZONE.)
BUCKET DREDGERS IN ACTION AT PANAMA.
The Panama Canal will be fifty miles
in length from the commencement of the
sea channel on the Atlantic side to the
termination of the channel on the Pacific
side, a distance equal to that between San
Jose and San Francisco, the difference be-
ing that there are mountains ^s obstacles
at Panama.
Under the adopt-
ed plan, there will
be locks located at
three points — Ga-
tun, Pedro Miguel
and Sosa Hill, near
La Boca. At Gatun,
three miles from
the Atlantic shore
line, there will be
a flight of three
locks in duplicate
— that is, there are
to be two sets of
locks side by side,
thus providing
against a discon-
tinuance of traffic
on account of possi-
ble damage to one
flight, or chamber.
The locks will be
THE BEST PHOTO- One thousand feet
in length, and 100
feet in width. The
A SPLENDID NEW HOTEL AT PANAMA.
GRAPH YET SHOWN OF THE FINE TIVOLI HOTEL AT ANCON
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
|!1.\>TI\<; WITH DYNAMITE IX CULEBRA CUT.
three On tun locks will each have a lift
of twviity-iM.uht and one-third feet, lifting
: he artificial lake formed by the
Gatun dam, eighty-five feet above sea
level. At Pedro Miguel, there will be a
single lock in duplicate, with a lift of
thirty feet, lowering vessels to Sosa lake.
Sosa locks will be in a flight of two, lower-
ing vessels to the Pacific level. For
twenty-eight miles of the length of the
canal, vessels will pass through two arti-
ficial lakes formed by damming the Cha-
gres river on the Atlantic side of the
divide and the Rio Grande on the Pacific
side.
Conservatively speaking, I am of the
opinion that in six years the mighty engi-
neering project will be completed, but the
cost will exceed by many millions of dol-
lars the original estimates, but the work
must be continued. The completion of the
canal will be more effective than any bill
that Congress can pass aimed to regulate
freight rates. From San Francisco to
New York, the distance by the Straits of
Magellan is 13,107 miles. Through the
canal the distance will be 5,294 miles, a
saving of 7,813 miles. San Francisco will
be about fourteen days from New York by
steamer, making sixteen knots an hour in-
stead of the sixty days or more now re-
quired. English ports can be reached in
twenty-one days instead of thirty-five.
For the first time, California will have
direct navigation between our Pacific
ports and those on the Gulf and on the
Atlantic. No State is watching the pro-
gress of the canal with greater interest
than California, and her people will sup-
port the present administration and
future administrations until the project is
finally completed.
THE POET
BY
DOXALD A. FRAZER
The Sage enquires with bended head,
To find the truth of things;
The Harper, too, in search of light,
Upsoars on dreamy wings;
But, with serene, unclouded brow.
The Poet sees and sings.
UNTINO
(The author, a British sportsman with an ex-
perience of years in America, Africa and the
Oriental tropics, presents some of the thrilling
adventures that infrequently come to the hunter
of big game. Colonel Lianier regrets the threat-
ened ultimate extermination of big game
throughout the world, and urges the establish-
ment of a grand international game preserve in
California, where, as he rightly observes, "al-
most every wild beast, not only of America, but
of foreign countries, would probably thrive.")
RESIDENT Roosevelt,
one of America's three
greatest Presidents,
who has probably had
a wider experience in
big game hunting in
America than any
man who writes
books, was, upon one occasion, charged
by a grisly bear. The graphic, and yet
thorough manner, in which the President
describes his exciting adventure, and the
fact that this thrilling encounter took
place in. America, in the life of a man yet
young, proves to us that the perils of big
game hunting in this country are not yet
wholly of the past, and I therefore quote
briefly of the President's excellent narra-
tive :*
When President Roosevelt was Charged by
a Grisly Bear.
"At last, as I was thinking of turning to-
ward camp, I stole up to the crest of one of
the ridges, and looked over into the valley some
sixty yards off. Immediately I caught the loom
* Prom "Hunting the Grisly and Other
Sketches," published by P. F. Collier & Son,
New York, by arrangement with G. P. Putnam's
Sons, Charles Scribners Sons, The Century
Company, and copyrighted by the four firms.
of some large, dark object; and another glance
showed me a big grisly* walking slowly off with
his head down. He was quartering to me, and
I fired into his flank, the bullet, as I afterwards
found, ranging forward and piercing one lung.
At the shot he uttered a loud moaning grunt,
and plunged forward at a heavy gallop, while I
raced obliquely down the hill to cut him off.
After going a few hundred feet, he reached a
laurel thicket, some thirty yards broad, and
two or three times as long, which he did not
leave. I ran up to the edge and then halted, not
liking to venture into the mass of twisted, close-
growing stems and glossy foliage. Moreover,
as I halted, I heard him utter a peculiar savage
kind of whine from the heart of the brush. Ac-
cordingly, I began to skirt the edge. * * * He
suddenly left the thicket directly opposite, and
then wheeled and stood broadside to me on the
hillside, a little above. He turned his head
stiffly toward me; scarlet strings of froth hung
from his lips; his eyes burned like embers in
the gloom.
"I held true, aiming behind the shoulder, and
my bullet shattered the point or lower end of
his heart, taking out a big nick. Instantly the
great bear turned with a harsh roar of fury and
challenge, blowing the bloody foam from his
mouth, so that I saw the gleam of his white
fangs; and then he charged straight at me,
crashing and bounding through the laurel
bushes, so that it was hard to aim. I waited
till he came to a fallen tree, raking him as he
topped it with a ball, which entered his chest
and went through the cavity of his body, but
he neither swerved nor flinched, and at the
moment I did not know that I had struck him.
He came steadily on, and in another second was
almost upon me. I fired for his forehead, but
my bullet went low, entering his open mouth,
smashing his lower jaw and going into the neck.
I leaped to one side almost as I pulled the trig-
ger; and through the hanging smoke the first
thing I saw was his paw as he made a vicious
side blow at? me. The rush of his charge carried
him past. As he struck, he lurched forward,
leaving a pool of bright blood where his muzzle
hit the ground; but he recovered himself and
made two or three jumps onward, while I hur-
riedly jammed a couple of cartridges into the
magazine, my rifle holding only four, all of
which I had fired. Then he tried to pull up,
but as he did so, his muscles seemed to suddenly
give way, his head drooped, and he rolled over
and over like a shot rabbit. Each of my first
three bullets had inflicted a mortal wound."
*"Grislv," meaning greyish,' is preferable to
"grizzly."
A CAPTIVE IN CEYLON, NOOSED AND TETHERED, BESIDE HIMSELF WITH RAGE AT
THE INDIGNITY. WILD ELEPHANTS ARE NOT THE SLEEK, FAT ANIMALS OF THE
[78.
(From a stereograph copyright by Underwood and Underwood, New York.)
This bear, whose death charge is thus
described by President Roosevelt, so care-
fully and minutely indeed that we may
picture in our mind's eye the exciting
••vent. a< if it liiul almost been a part of
our p;ist experience. \\as doubtless an ani-
mal which was maddened out of its usual
caution by the anguish of its wounds. Or-
•linarily ••VI-M a grisly will avoid a conflict
with man. as. IK- has learned to fear the
modern firearm.
i
the Grisly Challenged Every Foe.
-perate close-in battles between man
and beast are to-day comparatively rare
in the United States. Indeed, by "many,
the occasional .,f such encounters
are regarded as fiction, though in the early
history of this country they were by no
means infrequent.
In pioneer days the grisly had not yet
been driven from the plains to the almost
impenetrable mountain fastnesses, where
the few remaining specimens wage a los-
ing game with the rich nimrods of the
cities and their guides. When the repeat-
ing rifle was unknown, the grisly would
usually dispute the path with any foe,
two or four-legged, and most were glad +o
give him room. Grislies once were numer-
ous. Fremont saw herds of five and six
great grislies feeding in the open.
Still, even in recent years, desperate
encounters have been recorded between the
hunter and some bullet-tortured grisly or
brown bear. Not long ago, a young hun-
ter of Stockton, California, stabbed a huge
bear to death at close quarters in a fierce
scrimmage in the Sierras. Old Club-Foot,
the huge grisly for years famous in South-
ern California, took his weekly toll from
the cattlemen; his range extended over
hundreds of miles of the Sierras; and
Wounded bear trying to reach a hunter. No "nature fake" here. Just after Mr. E. K Redfield
of Glendale, Oregon, snapped the shutter of his camera, his companion fired, and the bear fell
like a clubbed bullock. The hunters were in no actual danger, as the bear was mortally wounded.
Courtesy G. H. Harkrader, Esq., Eastman Kodak Co.
458
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
when he at last came to his end, the Greek
rancher who had given him his death was
so fearfully torn that for months he lay
in a Los Angeles hospital.
The Real Perils of the Chase.
In the jungles and forests of the tropics
the explorer is exposed to the imminent
danger of insidious fevers, of swollen
rivers, blistering plains, of hostile natives,
poisonous serpents, of thirst or hunger
and of accidents. In the tundras of the
frozen North ; upon the frigid steppes, in
the deserted barrens, among the inhospi-
table mountain heights, and amid the al-
most endless ice floes, lurk the deadly per-
ils of the land of the White Silence, where
the danger of freezing to death, of becom-
ing lost, and of starvation, besets the in-
trepid hunter or trapper.
The most vital danger of all is the like-
lihood of the hunter being shot by mis-
take by some other would-be Nimrod who
takes him for a fleeting deer. Every fall
hundreds of persons are killed or wounded
throughout the United States by careless
hunters. It is perhaps no exaggeration
to state that, for every sportsman slain by
wild beasts in other parts of the world,
there are a score killed annually in this
country by the carelessness of irresponsi-
ble Nimrods. Of course, there is only
one way to put a stop to the vast death
harvest caused by this criminal negligence,
and that is the passage of laws making the
killing of persons by hunters, a statutory
crime, viz., manslaughter. Thus, if one
is so criminally careless as to shoot an-
other by mistake, a criminal intent would
be presumed by law.
I •!> KI.KIMI ANTS WHICH HAVE BEEN DRIVEN TOGETHER BY THEIR TAME BRETHREN
D CAPTURED ONE BY ONE. NOTE IN THE FOREGROUND A ROPE TIED AROUND THE
A.ND THEN AROUND THE TRUNK OF A TREE.
(Prom a stereograph copyright by Underwood and Underwood, New York.)
PEKILS OF BIG GAME HUNTING.
459
A Desperate Contest with a Wild
Carabao.
I well remember an incident in India
where a Sergeant of Marines was slain by
a wild water buffalo, the animal so well
known as a worker in the rice paddies of
India, South China, the Philippines and
the Straits Settlements. The boy had
emptied the magazine of his powerful
army carbine into the great bull at close
quarters. The animal disappeared into a
dense thicket of jungle grass. The ser-
geant foolishly followed the spoor of the
huge beast. Scarcely had the young
marine entered the thicket when he was
charged from behind by the bull, and
speedily battered to death before his com-
panions. The cunning creature had cir-
cled upon its back track and had been
watching for the man to follow. A simi-
lar bit of fool-hardiness with death as its
like consequence was observed by Colonel
W. F. Cody ("Buffalo Bill") a generation
ago. The Third U. S. Cavalry were
scouting near Freezeout Mountains in
Wyoming. A huge grizzly bear was dis-
cerned at the edge of a dense and particu-
larly impenetrable willow thicket. Though
both the bear's fore-legs were broken in
the fusillade that followed its discovery,
it managed to partly roll and partly drag
itself into the small patch of willows. A
tall and powerful trooper named Miller
would not be dissuaded from entering the
patch. He had not gone three steps when
the bear was upon him, rising on its hind
legs so close that he could not fire. He
seized the bear by the ears, and tried to
hold its head away from his face; but,
despite the fact that its forelegs- were use-
less, it managed by swinging its head rap-
idly to inflict such fearful bites upon his
arms and body that the man died of them,
although the bear was slain by another
trooper who had jumped from his horse
when the nature of the combat was real-
ized.
Catching Wild Elephants at Dacca.
T do not believe that the big game of
India has been very seriously diminished
by the white hunter. The abundance or
scarcity of game there apparently comes
in cycles. Where forage has been abun-
dant for many years, deer are plentiful in
the jungles, and tigers follow. Appar-
ently as many wild elephants are caught
and tamed in India to-day as there were
two thousand years ago. At Dacca, in
Bengal, the Indian Government maintains
a regular elephant catching service.
Armies of troopers go forth periodically
into the jungles of Chittagong and round
up a herd of fifty or sixty wild elephants
by driving them into a stockade by means
of the tamed beasts. Tiger hunting is,
ordinarily, not dangerous. Yet once a
friend of mine, a tea-planter in the Straits
Settlements, narrowly escaped death as we
were on a tiger drive. He had gone too
far ahead of the drivers, so that the tiger
was between him and them. Eetracing his
steps on a narrow trail, he suddenly came
face to face with an enormous male, that
was fleeing ahead of the beating gongs.
The huge beast paused a moment irreso-
lutely; then, frightened by the increasing
alarums, rushed upon him, probably wish-
ing to get by, more than anything else.
But, as he knocked my friend over, he bit
savagely, tearing off the clothing, but not
penetrating the flesh with his poisonous
fangs.
Extermination of Big Game in Africa.
Africa to-day is the last great stamping
ground of big game. In the wild interior
of the Dark Continent, the hunter may
still come upon elephants, rhinoceroses,
Cape buffaloes, lions and other dangerous
beasts, in. almost countless numbers, that
have not yet met the white man and his
rifle. They exhibit but little fear of man,
and are most redoubtable opponents. Par-
ticularly is this true of the giant Cape
buffalo, which charges through the dense
jungles and thickets like a catapult, and
is upon the hunter almost before he has
correctly ascertained the direction from
which the beast is charging. In almost
every direction, Africa is now being opened
up by railroads and private corporations.
District after district in Southwest, South
Central, Eastern and Equatorial Africa
have been ravaged by men with guns who
slay elephants and rhinoceroses, antelopes,
buffaloes, giraffes and other rare beasts,
not by bags of two or three, but by the
scores. So rapid has been the extermina-
160
OVEBLAXD MONTHLY.
i: BEAR STEAKS FOR THANKSGIVING.
A Ifl.\( K ItKAi: Kll.l.KI) IX THE SIERRAS OF
CALIFORM \.
(From a stereograph copyright by Underwood
and Underwood, New York.)
tion of the great beasts of Africa that the
authorities of Great Britain, Portugal,
i.my, France and the Congo Free
State have imposed a license of $125.
which is issued to the hunter before he
can shoot an elephant or a giraffe or a
rhinoceros.
The British have gone further than any
other in the preservation of the big game
of Africa ; especially in the plains region
of Somaliland and also in Uganda, where
vast tracts have been declared a kind of
game preserve. To the latter region,
gradually, herds of the larger animals have
returned, so that to-day the astonished
traveler on the Uganda railroad will see
herds of zebras and even elephants from
the car windows.
The hii; landed corporations assist the
ivory traffic. The tusks of five thousand
K> ten thousand huge jungle monsters will
lie at one time on the salesroom floors of
the London and Antwerp docks. Then,
too. the foreign Governments do not limit
the number of sportsmen who may kill
elephants and other great beasts by license.
The damage done by a negro with a muz-
zle-loader, bow and arrow, spear or pit-
fall, is inconsiderable when compared with
the awful havoc wrought by the white man
armed with a tremendous weapon like the
.450 express rifle.
Hunting Elephants from a Pullman Car.
To-day in Africa the perils of big game
hunting have been greatly eliminated. One
may hire a luxurious Pullman palace car
from the Bhodesian railroad, and push on
up to the rail-head on the Cape to the
Cairo system, then leaving his hotel on
wheels, he may trek a little distance into
the wild, and secure specimens of one of
the rarest and most valuable of all ani-
mals, the giraffe, a strange and beautiful
creature that is doomed to follow the
American buffalo to almost total extinc-
tion. Or, at a town like Mombasa, on the
east coast of Africa, the novice can stop
at the superb Grand Hotel, whence trained
trackers, porters, gun-bearers and cooks
are provided for "shikar" on a huge scale
and at small expense.
Next to the Cape buffalo, I consider the
crocodile one of the most dangerous of all
the animals of Africa. I would never
cross a stream at night in which these
huge reptiles are found. I have seen them
seize the rower from the prow of his canoe,
tear to pieces a wounded hippopotamus,
and catch by the nose and drown a zebra
which had come down to drink.
An International Game Preserve for
California.
It seems to me that it would be a wise
provision if all the rare animals of the
world might be gathered in some favored
clime and there maintained in a vast pre-
serve for the benefit of succeeding human-
ity. Doubtless the great nations could be
interested in a grand international game
preserve. And, if the Governments would
not further such a movement, what a mag-
nificent opportunity is afforded to private
endeavor. . Think of the millions that a
P. T. Barnum would coin from an inter-
national preserve. Its fame would speed-
ily become world -wide. Such a preserve
could well be established in California,
where almost every wild beast, not only of
America, but of foreign countries, would
WASTED SWEETS. 461
probably thrive. In California, even the nia, an international zoo, supporting
ostrich, one of the most delicate of Afri- giraffes, zebras, rhinoceros, hippos, ele-
can creatures when outside of its own phants. Cape buffaloes, ostriches, lions,
domain, becomes more vigorous than in tigers, camels, gnus, practically all wild
its native haunts. creatures except those of the Arctic zones,
At some favorable location in Califor- might be maintained.
WASTED SWEETS
BY
HEXRY WALDORF FRANCIS
She. pets him and caresses,
And caies not who may see,
Her love she ne'er disguises,
She flaunts it openly!
Pet names she fondly calls him,
Gives him a playful slap.
She smothers him with kisses,
And takes him on her lap!
To him she proves devotion,
Of him takes greatest heed,
She sees that he's provided
With every want and need!
Oh, lucky man, you tell me,
Is he her lover true,
To whom she is so faithful,
For whom so inuc-h she'll do!
A'.as! the man just sits by
As helpless as a .log,
Her fondling and her kisses
Not he gets, but her dog!
U ENVOI.
[ grieve, Prince, when a maiden
Kissing a dog I see,
To think of the sweets wasted
That might have come to me !
SCENE ON THE BICOL RIVER, SOUTHERN LUZON, ALONG
MODERN NEW RAILWAYS WILL SOON BE RUNNING.
WHICH A SYSTEM OF
A NEW ERA IN THE PHILIPPINES
BY
PIERRE N. BERINGER
LMOST everyone is
familiar with the dis-
couraging stories that
came from the Phil-
ippines in the early
days of the American
occupation. To-day
there is a new era in
the islands. A thousand miles of rail-
ways are being built or reconstructed.
Steamship lines, subsidized by the In-
sular Government, call at every import-
ant point in the islands. Manila, with
an elaborate street-car system, beautiful
parks, modern clubs, and adequate conven-
iences for the traveler, is a thoroughly
modernized city, yet withal possessing the
quaint fascination of the Orient. To-day
this city is notable as a show place of the
Far East. Active work on the Philippine
railroads has long been under way. The
first railroad party, composed of fifty en-
gineers, contractors and surveyors, arrived
in Manila June 8, 1906. By March, 1907,
four thousand men were grading on the
islands of Cebu; fifteen hundred men
were at work on Panay Island, and to-
day thousands of others are busy on al-
most every brnnch of the proposed lines.
The building of the railroads is un-
doubtedly the most important step in all
the industrial and therefore sociological
history of the Philippines. The agricul-
turist has been but little stimulated to
produce more than will supply him with
the bare necessities of life. In many re-
gions there have been no means of profit-
ably transporting his products to the mar-
kets of the world. While it seems certain
that no more fertile land lies under the
sun, it is probable that there is no coun-
try of equal natural wealth where less has
been done along modern lines.
The concessions for the building of the
two general systems of railroads were
granted by the Insular Government about
two years ago. These systems may be
broadly classed as the Luzon Island lines,
and the lines of the Visayan Islands, i. e.,
JSTegros, Cebu and Panay. The franchises
call for the construction of 430 miles of
railroad on Luzon Island and about 300
miles on the Visa}ras. Two features are
notable in the planning of the railroad;
first, that they will go through the most
densely populated regions, and second,
that their terminals in every case will be
upon deep, safe and convenient harbors.
464
OVEKLAKD MONTHLY.
The railroads will open some vast coal
fields, rich and dense forests of hardwoods
and some thickly populated regions where
hemp, rice, cacao, cocoanuts or copra,
sugar and other tropical products are
raised.
The country has been developing rap-
idly in the territory already reached by the
railroad. Along the new lines of the
Manila and Dagupan Eailway, through
the interior province of Neuva Ecija to
Cabanatuan, the advance of the new cul-
tivation in the rich rice and sugar country
in times of depression, prosperity was
found along the lines of the railroad.
Closely allied with the building of the
railroads is the improvement of the har-
bors by the Government. The total cost
of the work has been about $5,000,000.
The port of Manila is now generally con-
sidered the best in the Orient. In Sep-
tember, 1906, the transport "Logan" was
laid alongside the new military pier
(dimensions 500 feet by 50 feet), and that
was the first occasion where a vessel of
equal draught tied up in a Far Oriental
XATIVE STEVEDORES LOADING CARGOES ON AN INTERIOR RIVER
MODERN METHODS ARE TAKING THE PLACE OF THE OLD SYSTEM.
PORT IN LUZON.
has kept pace with the completion of the
road. The production extends as far as
the eye can reach on both sides of the
road, despite the general opinion that the
Filipino farmer would not be disposed to
settle in new country as the American
farmer has settled in the West. A similar
advance is to be noted along the line re-
cently built from Manila to Antipolo (al-
titude 600 feet), a distance of 25 miles.
So rapidly do agricultural conditions re-
spond to adequate transportation that even
port. The Government is building two
large steel and concrete wharves, which
will be covered with sheds and will pos-
sess trackage facilities for directly unload-
ing into cars. One of these wharves will
be 600 feet by 70 feet, and the other 650
feet by 110 feet. In line with the im-
provement of the harbors, five-year con-
tracts have been let to various local steam-
ship companies for Government service,
mails, passenger and freight. Sixty im-
portant ports of call are regularly visited
A NEW ERA IN THE PHILIPPINES.
465
A TINDALO TREE IN THE FORESTS OF
LUZON. THE STUMPAGE VALUE TO THE
GOVERNMENT OF THE HARDWOODS IS
ESTIMATED AT THREE BILLION DOLLARS.
NOTE THE FIGURE OF MAN ON THE ROOTS
by thirteen different routes ; mails are
despatched with rapidity throughout the
Philippines; delays in traveling from port
to port have become, for the most part, a
feature of the past. The subsidies of the
Government stipulate a standard of com-
fort and a reasonable rate of passage. Five
hundred and fifty different towns in the
Islands are now provided with post-offices,
the people are making free use of the
registry and money-order departments;
and, as thev have heretofore had no de-
positary for their savings, the latter has
fulfilled a most valuable service. The last
Congress of the United States authorized
the establishment of an agricultural bank,
the purpose of which is to promote the de-
velopment of the rich resources of the
Islands, which are now greatly retarded
by lack of the necessary capital.
Wire service has naturally developed
more rapidly than the mails. There are
9,340 miles of telegraph, telephone and
cable lines extending to all civilized por-
tions of the Archipelago. The service, in
which seventy-four per cent of the opera-
tives are Filipinos, is most satisfactory.
Much has been done in the building of
good roads.
Remarkable work has been done in the
Philippines in the effort to improve the
public health. Thousands of babies have
been saved through pure water; miasmatic
sloughs and swamps in cities have been
drained. The old moat around the wall
of Manila is now filled in, and the modern
park and boulevard on the Luneta is now
what in the early days of the occupation
was a dismal pestilence-breeding slough.
The health conditions among the Ameri-
cans in the Philippines show marked im-
provement. During the fiscal year ending
June 30, 1906, the death rate among
American civilians living in the Philip-
pines was only 9.34 per thousand, while
the death rate among American soldiers
was about 8.65. The death rate among
Americans in the United States is about
17. That the death rate in the Philip-
pines is so much lower is accounted for by
the fact that most of the Americans in the
Islands are adults in the prime of life.
Common observation shows that people
who lead active lives in the Philippines
enjoy good health. Swimming, walking,
horseback riding, tennis, golf, hunting,
mountain climbing and like exercises will
keep one in tip-top physical condition, and
can be done in great comfort at all sea-
sons of the year. American children de-
velop faster and are stronger in the Phil-
ippines than almost anywhere else in the
world; in fact, by many, the climate has
become to be accounted a great asset.
How does the climate of the Philippines
feel to the pilgrim of the temperate zones?
Broadly speaking, the climate is the most
healthful and comfortable of any portion
466
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
Tin: BEAUTIFUL CITY OF LUCBAN ON
THE SLOPES OF A LOFTY MOUNTAIN IN
SOUTHERN LUZON. HERE THE FILIPINOS
MAKK RARE HATS, KNIVES AND MATS.
of the tropics inhabited by the white man.
Compared in detail with that of New
York or Chicago or St. Louis, it presents
many good points and very few on the
wrong side of the scale. The highest re-
corded temperature for a period of twenty-
two years in Manila, as given by the
weather bureau there, was 37.8 degrees
Cent., i. e., 100 degreea and 4 minutes
Fahr., which was reached on May 23,
1889. December, January and half of
November and February furnish perhaps
the most delightful climatic conditions in
the world. April and May are the hot-
test months of the year. The showers
come in June, and showery weather lasts
till November. Altogether there are so
many different climatic conditions in the
various parts of the Islands that any gen-
eral statement based upon them will nec-
essarily be inaccurate.
In the last two or three years the leaven
of progress has been gradually working up
in the Philippines. The merchants and
commercial element of the Islands are
most hopeful and contented ; and these are
busy in developing the country. The
Manila Merchants' Association, which was
recently organized to advertise the Islands
has a membership of 184 merchants, and
a subscription of pesos 60,000, or $30,-
000 gold has been secured to carry on pro-
motion work. An office has been estab-
lished to render certain- the issuing of
printed matter besides the gathering of
information for new publications. Five
pamphlets have been issued so far, and
have been widely distributed all over the
world. Thus far, it has been very difficult
for strangers to get a record of modern
progress in Manila. A. C. McClurg &
Co., of Chicago, have recently published
a compact volume entitled "A Handbook
of the Philippines," highly illustrated and
giving about all the information a person
could possibly want to know. Such a pub-
lication as this is so positively unique that
1 am glad to give it a bit of free a
vertising.
Many people have an idea that the
Philippines are a great expense to this
Government. As a matter of fact, no
public money is sent from the United
States to the Philippines, except that
which is used in the support of the army
and transport service; nor have the Phil-
ippines cost us anything since 1903, when
s\ \
. & tjj^
AN 1GORROTE WARRIOR CASTING HIS
SPEAR. THE IGORROTES MAKE GOOD WORK-
A NEW ERA IN THE PHILIPPINES.
46?
Congress appropriated three million dol-
lars, through the Agricultural Relief bill.
The Islands are entirely self-supporting,
and all our school teachers and officials
over there are paid from the insular funds.
Incidentally, it may be observed that the
work of the schools is progressing very
rapidly; there are now about 500,000
school children in the Islands; the facili-
ties being such that every child of school
common people of one tribe to speak to
the common people of another tribe, in-
asmuch as only five per cent of the popu-
lation, and those the very educated, were
acquainted with the Spanish tongue.
When compared with the accomplish-
ments of the Dutch in Java, the British in
India, the Germans in New Guinea, or
with the colonizing efforts of any Euro-
pean race in the Orient, the results ob-
WOMEN OF THE PEASANT CLASS. BICOL MOTHER AND HER DAUGHTER. CLEAN-
UMOSS IS A FILIPINO VIRTUE. AN UNTIDY DRESS OR SUIT IS RARELY SEEN.
age, i. e., between the ages of six and fif-
teen years, may at some period spend three
years in the public schools. Nowadays in
the Philippines it is not uncommon for
your muchaca (servant) from Manila to
be able to speak to the boy of a distant
province in the English language; where-
as, formerly, it was impossible for the
tained by the United States seem amazing.
The actual commerce to-day done by the
Philippine Islands is larger than at any
time in their history. During the time
of the American occupation, the imports,
it is true, did run a little higher, but that
was caused by the enormous supplies re-
quired by the American army. The Phil-
468
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
A MOEO DATTO, OR FEUDAL CHIEFTAIN,
AND HIS RETINUE. THE GOVERNMENT
HAS ESTABLISHED MARKET PLACES
THROUGHOUT THE MORO PROVINCES, AND
FROM FIGHTERS THE MOROS ARE BECOM-
ING TRADERS AND GOOD CITIZENS.
ippines have never had so great an actual
trade as they have to-day.
As workers, the Filipinos are becoming
proficient under American direction.
Laborers on the Manila street railway in
a short time acquired eighty per cent of
efficiency of the unskilled American
laborer. In some regions, the Filipinos
are prodigious workers, and the Ilocanos
of the north coast of Luzon remain in the
fields from before daylight till darkness
overtakes them at night, with but an hour
or less at noon for the mid-day meal, in
the far interior mountains of Southern
and Central Luzon, the Igorrotes have
built marvelous terraces for the growing
of rice, like giant steps up the sides of
the steep mountain canyons, to a height of
three thousand feet or more. These ter-
races, each of which is flooded with water
at certain periods of the year, are wonder-
ful feats of engineering. Sometimes they
follow the contour of the canyon for a»
great a distance as half a mile without
varying two inches from the dead level.
The water is retained on the top of the
terrace or step by a retaining wa^ about
fifteen inches high.
Perhaps no people, either savage or
civilized, have ever further developed the
art of intensive cultivation of the soil
than have the Igorrotes ; none, as far as is
now known, have so far progressed in
methods of irrigation. The Igorrotes run
the streamlet that has been deflected for
the purpose of irrigation through a mass
of manure, decayed vegetable loam, ashes
and black alluvial soil, thus fertilizing and
irrigating the land by a single operation.
In many respects, this is a decided step
in advance of the methods followed in the
United States where the fertilizer is labor-
iously distributed over the earth and re-
mains until it is unevenly washed about
by the subsequent application of water.
The discovery of coal in many regions
of the Philippines is of special significance
at this time, when an important coaling
base will be necessary, not only to our
navy, but to our commercial fleets. En-
gineers who have extensively investigated
the fields on the island of Batan estimate
the amount "in sight" as seventy-six mil-
lion tons, a supply capable of furnishing
A HUNTING PARTY OF NATIVES ON THE BROAD, FERTILE PLAINS OF THE UPPER
CAGAYAN VALLEY IN NORTHERN LUZON. DEER CAN BE SEEN ON THE SHOULDERS OF
THE HORSES.
A NEW ERA IN THE PHILIPPINES.
460
fuel to the present shipping for a period
of almost four hundred years. As a
steaming coal, this coal, which is now be-
ing used in ships, is unsurpassed. It
burns fifteen per cent faster than the best
Japanese coal, but it leaves no ash and no
clinkers. The Island of Polillo, off the
coast of Southern Luzon, contains even
larger deposits than Batan Island. Out-
crops were discovered here in September,
1901, by Lieutenant Wray of the Philip-
pine scouts. Several companies have been
organized to develop the seams. The
analysis of this coal is as follows:
Moisture, per cent 4.7
Volatile combustible 43.5
Fixed combustible 50.1
Ash . 1.7
100.00
Sulphur, .38. A large bed of bitumin-
ous coal has been discovered about seventy
miles north of Zamboanga, Mindanao
Island.
It is estimated by the Forestry Bureau
of the Philippines that there are in the
Islands not less than forty million acres
of commercial timber to replace the ex-
hausted stocks of the world. The value
of these woods is believed to exceed two
billion dollars ; their natural yearly growth
is computed at 4,400,000,000 cubic feet.
Fully ninety-nine per cent of this lumber
goes to waste. Millions and millions of
feet of valuable hardwood arrive at matur-
ity and pass the period of their commer-
cial value to decay without vibrating to
the woodman's axe. With the exception
of California redwood forests, the forests
of the Philippines exceed in merchantable
lumber per acre those of the United States.
A number of American firms are now suc-
cessfully dealing in the almost priceless
Philippine hardwoods.
The chief agricultural industries of the
Philippines are the growing of hemp,
sugar, tobacco and copra. A large num-
ber of Americans have gone into the rais-
ing of hemp, particularly at Davao, on the
island of Mindanao. Many splendid sugar
and hemp districts are being opened up
by the new railroads. There is a good
chance for Americans of temperate char-
acter and moderate capital. The Spanish
for generations amassed fortunes in the
islands by methods both dilatory and slip-
shod.
The undertakings of the present new
era rise above and beyond the proportions
of mere industrial projects. As a word
to the wise, only those enterprises imbued
with the humanitarian spirit may succeed,
for the Filipino "people will not work for
A HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED PICTURE OF
THE SULTAN OF SULU, THE NOMINAL
RULER OF THE SULU ISLANDS, WHO HAS
SWORN ALLEGIANCE TO UNCLE SAM. HIS
MAJESTY UNIQUELY WEARS BOTH HIS
STOCKINGS AND GARTERS OUTSIDE.
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
those who treat them cruelly; and, when
seriously engaged in such enterprises, be-
come great sociological levers. The wide
distribution of honestly earned money
among thousands of laborers is a great
teacher of industry and self-reliance.
A BIT OF ATTRACTIVE LANDSCAPE IN SOUTHERN LUZON THAT WILL BE SEEN BY
TRAVELERS ON THE NEW PHILIPPINE RAILWAYS. THE BEAUTIFUL CAIMA RIVER
WHICH WINDS AMONG FOREST-COVERED HILLS AND PAST RICH HEMP PLANTATIONS.
WHAT THE BOY KNOWS
You wouldn't think / knew all about
The reason people have the gout,
But listen! When they stay up after two,
And eat those "rabbits" full of cheese,
And pie and cake, as much's they please,
The reason's plain enough, I think, don't you?
You wouldn't think I knew it — but I do!
You wouldn't think I knew all about
The reason schoolgirls scowl and pout —
But listen ! — when you have a dress that's new,
And no one says a single word
About how nice it's hung or shirred,
The reason's plain enough I think, don't you ?
You wouldn't think I knew it — but I do!
You wouldn't think I knew all about
The reason married folks "fall out"-
But listen ! — when there's lots of work to do,
And mother strikes it off the list,
And goes out ev'ry day to whist, —
The reason's plain enough, I think, don't you ?
You wouldn't think I knew it —
But I do!
DELMAS— ALWAYS A GENTLEMAN
"Mr. Jerome uses a rapier thrust. I
dislike the bludgeon. It would not be
proper for me to discuss Mr. Heney."
MR. DELPHIN M. DELMAS, WHO HAS
ACTED FOR THE DEFENSE IN THE TWO
MOST-DISCUSSED CRIMINAL CAUSES OF
THE TWELFTH-MONTH.
SENT WORD that I
would be at liberty to
meet you here in this
hotel, because not to
have replied to your
note would have been
discourteous, and I
would not intention-
ally be discourteous," said Mr. Delphin
Michael Delmas.
This was the characteristic greeting of
the attorney who has acted for the defense
in the two most discussed criminal causes
of the twelfth-month.
To be always courteous.; to be always a
gentleman; to take delight in the classics
of life and in the amenities, how natural
seems this disposition to the attorney of
the old school, to the fast-passing type of
legal counselor ! Nowadays, when time is
worth money, one can't, they say, spare
too much of it to be polite. Who would
expect a seventy-five thousand dollar presi-
dent of a 'railroad to waste his breath in
always being polite, or, what is more, in
being courteous. Yet here is a seventy-
five thousand dollar lawyer — and perhaps
the income of Mr. Delmas surpasses this
figure — who is conscientiously courteous
to every one he meets, even to the Oriental
who mopped the dust from the floor in a
hotel.
Inasmuch as Delmas is courteous in
• this money-making age, he is an anomaly.
In so far as he has time to be polite, he
stands as one of a few in the heights of
the criminal lawyers.
Here are a few quotations which bring
out this trait, this uniqueness of being
polite, a characteristic so unusual and
sometimes so little valued from a com-
mercial viewpoint that it may not be
worth the type to mention it.
"Do you enjoy a battle in court, Mr.
Delmas ?"
"I do. I appreciate keenly and enjoy a
contest in court provided counsel are cour-
teous."
"Is Mr. William Travers Jerome cour-
teous ?"
"Mr. Jerome is very courteous. Some-
times he becomes irascible and waspish.
But he is courteous. Mr. Jerome has a
wonderful mind, a brilliant and analyti-
cal mind. The manner in which he pre-
sents his evidence, in which he assembles
the features of his case, as an artist would
bring together the small, colored blocks
to form a great mosaic, to make a com-
plete and artistic whole, to bring out the
lights and shades, and to have each col-
ored block blend perfectly with the block
next to it, and also to occupy its place and
harmonize with the completed whole, is
marvelous. The way in which Mr. Jerome
introduced and presented certain evidence
in the Thaw trial was the work of genius."'
"Is Mr. Jerome a clever opponent?"
"Mr. Jerome is a brilliant opponent at
the bar. Mr. Jerome uses a rapier thrust.
I dislike counsel using a bludgeon, intro-
ducing a big stick into the case. It ob-
scures the merits of the case."
"Does Mr. Heney use a bludgeon, Mr.
Delmas? How would you compare the
methods of the two great lawyers opposed
to you, Mr. Heney
and Mr. Jerome ?"
"Mr. Heney in no
way resembles Mr.
Jerome. It would
m-,. not be proper for me
to discuss Francis
Heney. I would not
care to talk about
Mr. Heney. Mr.
Heney is in the
city."
Of course it should
be stated, in fairness
to Mr. Delmas, although he did not sug-
gest that it should be so stated, that the
comparison between Mr. Heney, with
whom Mr. De]mas crossed words in the
famous Glass bribery trial in San Fran-
cisco, and Mr. Jerome, who opposed Mr.
Delmas in the celebrated Thaw trial was
not at the suggestion of Mr. Delmas.
Yet how interesting would be the com-
parison between Heney and Jerome, the
two most militant prosecuting attorneys
in the United States. Jerome, brilliant,
keen as a rapier blade, persistent and con-
scientious. Heney, equally conscientious,
careful, plodding with the plodding that
makes for genius, dogged, thorough, but
blunt as a bull-terrier. And Delmas, too,
the honorable and courteous, for it would
be as unjust to judge Mr. Delmas ad-
versely because he had undertaken the un-
popular and more difficult side of a case
as it would be to say that Mr. Heney was
not honest in defending the infamous
Judge Noyes. Unhappy the day in
America when the defendant may not se-
cure a counselor!
"Who, Mr. Delmas, is the most for-
midable attorney ever opposed to you at
the bar?"
"Hall McAllister, of San Francisco. He
is dead now, and a statue was erected to
his memory. It was an intellectual strug-
gle to be matched against Mr. McAllister.
But he was a gentlemanly man, and we al-
ways parted friends at the termination of
the case in which we were emjasred."
THE NEW GOVERNOR OF NEW MEXICO
GEORGE C. CURRY, THE NEW GOVERNOR
OF NEW MEXICO, TO WHOM PRESIDENT
ROOSEVELT HAS STATED THAT HE WILL
FAVOR STATEHOOD FOR THE PROSPEROUS
TERRITORY.
HEEE HAS perhaps
been no more romantic
figure in the Philip-
pines than was the
new Governor of New
Mexico, the Honor-
able George C. Curry,
and Governor Curry
is a man to whom romance appeals.
The. name of George Curry has loomed
large for almost a decade in the press des-
patches. Formerly he was captain in the
Rough Riders ; always has he been a friend
of President Roosevelt, and of countless
others, who love a brave and modest man.
Latterly was he Governor of Samar,
wherefore, owing to the Pulajan battles
in Samar and Leyte, he figured gener-
ously in the telegraphic reports from
Manila, and at present as Governor of
prosperous New Mexico, his name is one
to conjure with, for by and large and al-
together, Curry is one of the most pic-
turesque and upright characters in all
the vast Southwest.
At the beginning of the trouble in the
Philippines, and after the Rough Riders
had returned to their homes, Captain
Curry resigned the office of sheriff in a
New Mexican country, paying $4,500 a
year, to which he had been recently
elected ; gave up the management of large
cattle interests, and accepted a "job" as
captain in the volunteers at $1,800 yearly.
At the expiration of his enlistment in the
army, he was chosen as Governor of the
province of Ambos Camarines, in the
island of Luzon. Later he served as
Chief of Police in Manila, and about
three years ago as Governor of Samar,
where are found the especially pestifer-
ous Pulajans — a fanatical religious sect
which, bent on vulgar pillage and rob-
bery, occasionally forays from the dark-
some mountain glens in which dwell its
devotees, and forthwith keeps the peace-
able inhabitants in a state of terrorism.
Curry was beloved — and respected — by
his Filipino wards. Once we went with
him in Southern Luzon to the province of
which he had been Governor, and, — in-
cidentally, he was the best Governor in
the history of those parts — almost the en-
tire town of Neuva Caceres had come a
round fifteen miles to greet their former
"Gobernador." For had not Curry, dur-
ing the insurrection, when two thousand
armed insurgents threatened the peaceful
natives of Neuva Caceres, fared forth
474
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
alone with a good priest and a flag of
truce into the camp of the enemy?
It was Curry's persuasiveness and that
of his holy co-adjutor, who convinced the
insurgent General that his bread was
buttered on the American side, that in-
duced the insurgents to disperse and
saved the town from fire and the bolo.
Curry is as gentle as a dove, and as
quick with his trigger finger as "Bat"
Masterson. In Manila, a libelous editor
of the vicinage, they say, on being re-
minded of Curry's ability with a shoot-
ing iron, forthwith and "pronto" apolo-
gized. Curry's greatest public achieve-
ment was in Samar. Within a year af-
ter he had been appointed Governor of
the province, he had captured most of the
Pulajan leaders and sent them to Bilibid
prison. Many not captured were elimi-
nated. The number of discontents was
reduced from about eighteen hundred to
two hundred, their leader gone, and the
poor, foolish Pulajan peasants returned
to their homes.
Curry was accustomed to walk all
through the mountains of Samar without
arms. He had much faith in the people.
During the spring of 1906, however, a
band of the remaining Pulajans began
to stir things up, and when the constabu-
lary (native police) were sent after them,
the Pulajans despatched word to Curry
that they would like to deal with him un-
der a flag of truce. Governor Curry, as
usual, carried no arms. When the cow-
ardly Pulajans ambushed the native
troops, killing twenty-seven of them,
Curry was obliged to flee for his life. He
swam a raging stream, disappeared in
the jungle, and wandered there for two
days before he again reached a place of
safety.
It is fitting that Curry returns to the
tonic altitudes of New Mexico. Owing to
his extremely active life in the tropics, he
has been much troubled with tropical
complaints, and hard work in the hot sun
is not good for a man who has two grown
boys. But with his wonderful enthusiasm
and vitality, Curry always kept on the go.
Curry was immensely popular in both
civil and military circles in the Islands.
He received an ovation every time he
went to Manila. Though a hard fighter,
all his enemies had become friends.
In appointing Governor Curry to the
Governorship of- New Mexico, President
Roosevelt was not moved by political con-
siderations, for Curry is a Democrat.
But above all things, Curry is an
American.
YO NO ME QUIERO CASAR"
BY
M.
One sunny morn, alone I strayed
Along the beach at Monterey.
With brown, bare hands, a Spanish maid
Was picking sea-moss from the spray.
And as she toiled, her clear voice ringing,
Woke the sweet echoes near and far ; .
A rich soprano gaily singing:
"Yo no me quiero casar."
Her audience, the waves and the skies,
The long-necked pelicans in white,
And gray sea-gulls with watchful eyes,
And tawny sands with spray-drops bright,
A pair of linnets, lightly winging
Their way towards her from afar,
And flying low, to hear her singing
"Yo no me quiero casar."
Her nut-brown hair in clusters fell
About her slender, swan-like neck ;•
In her dark eyes there lurked a spell,
Her lovely face had just a speck
Of sun and tan, through warm tints springing.
Her beauty shone like some fair star.
I breathless stood, while she kept singing
"Yo no me quiero easar."
A Eaphael face on far-off walls,
Has the dark depths of her soft eyes;
The same strange light upon her falls,
Where she stands framed against the skies.
While ever softly chimes the ringing
Of Mission bells in note or bar,
As if they knew the wondrous singing,
"Yo no me quiero casar."
0 Spanish maid, with small, brown hands,
Spreading sea-tangle's dainty lace,
'Tis years since I have paced the sands,
Or seen the light on thy young face.
Yet oft will come old memories, bringing
The beach, sand-dune and drift-wood spar;
You framed against the blue sky, singing:
"Yo no me quiero casar"
— From Overland Monthly of April, 1SSG
*"I Don't Wish to Marry." Popular song
among the native Californians.
RUDOLPH SPRECKELS,, THE COURAGEOUS YOUNG MILLIONAIRE WHO HAS SHOWN
HIMSELF A GOOD AMERICAN CITIZEN IN DIRECTING THE PROSECUTIONS AGAINST THE
MUNICIPAL CORRUPTIONISTS.
RUDOLPH SPRECKELS--THE GENIUS
OF THE SAN FRANCISCO GRAFT
PROSECUTION
BY AKNO DOSCH
Mr. Spreckels is charged by his enemies with selfish motives. The substance of these charges
and the actual motives of Mr. Spreckels are set forth in Mr. Bosch's article.
HE EFFOETS of the
municipal graft pros-
ecutors in San
Francisco have prob-
ably been the clever-
est, the most persist-
ent and the most suc-
cessful in the his-
tory of similar causes in the United
States. They have been managed with an
unparalleled vigor, adroitness and acu-
men. They exhibit possibly the most per-
fectly systematized effort which has ever
been shown in any criminal prosecution
of the kind undertaken in the name of
the commonwealth. They have been
handled wifh that rare discernment that
marks the successful issue of a great battle
or the building up of a huge commercial
enterprise. Xo door has been left open ;
no opportunity neglected which might lead
the forces of the graft prosecution further
on to success.
And the results?
To-day San Francisco stands before the
world as the first city of the United States
in which the "Men Higher Up," the capi-
talists charged with having offered and
given bribes to city officials for public
franchises, have been convicted.
Behind the firing line (and also upon
it) stands Eudolph Spreckels, the young
millionaire, who, more than all others, has
furnished the brains, money, momentum,
and, especially, the business-like direction
which has carried the prosecution on to
success.
For, over and above all, the graft prose-
cutions have been complex, ramified and
various. They have reached into every
artery and penetrated to the very finger-
tips of life. It has not been alone the
genius of Francis J. Heney and the at-
torneys who assist him, nor the unravel-
ings of the marvelous Burns and the many
detectives under his direction; nor has it
been the press alone nor the pressure ex-
erted in a thousand different avenues that
has won success, but it has been the per-
fect co-ordination and direction of all
these forces under the leadership of Eu-
dolph Spreckels.
And who is Mr. Rudolph Spreckels?
He is a son of San Francisco and of
Glaus Spreckels, the multi-millionaire
sugar king. He is a bank president, turf-
man, horse-racer and owner of a string
of thoroughbreds; he is a business man,
family man, and a few years on the sunny
side of forty.
Yet though I account Mr. Spreckels a
genius and philanthropist, there are those
who differ with me, especially as to the
latter qualification.
Spreckels has an axe to grind, they cry.
He wishes revenge on Patrick Calhoun
for the defeat of the Spreckels application
for the Sutter street line, say some ; or he
seeks the forfeiture of Calhoun's franchise
in order "to install his own, say others.
Wherefore we find for their cry two rea-
sons : The first, that Eudolph Spreckels
is a Spreckels; the second, that the people
long deceived are wont to look for a nigger
in the wood-pile where a large expendi-
ture of time, effort and money is involved
without an obviously material reward.
So that my point will be clearly under-
stood, I may as well out, as strongly as
they are put, with the charges against
Eudolph Spreckels and those against the
Spreckels family, which latter are, I take
it, responsible in a measure for the whis-
pering distrust that has spread abroad :
478
OVERLAKD MONTHLY.
Spreckels has organized, they say, a
giant political machine, and is using the
machinery of the commonwealth, not only
to prosecute but to persecute his personal
enemies. Men who prosecute are always
personal enemies to those whom they
prosecute, especially when behind prose-
cution lies the striped suit and shaven
head, and the prosecuted will naturally
endeavor to stir public sentiment by the
recital of tales or any other means which
will keep them out of State's prison.
As to the mean charges against the
Spreckels family: In the early days, it is
said, when the Spreckels started the Val-
ley Eailroad, a line in the San Joaquin
Valley, California, they (the Spreckelses)
"roped in" the local Californians by the
ostensible and patriotic theory that the
new line was to be an independent line
and would relieve the local shippers,
farmers and others from the grinding op-
pression of the then existing railroad, un-
der the old regime. Upon this basis, that
of relief and of the securing of an inde-
pendent California enterprise, a vast
amount of money is stated to have been
raised. When the railroad was sold, a bit-
ter cry arose against the Spreckelses. It
was the Spreckels way, they said, to appeal
to local pride and boost their own pro-
jects as an independent proposition
against the opposition, and then sell out
with a profit to the opposition. On another
occasion, an independent gas company was
formed. It was a move for cheaper gas,
gas at a fair, livable price. The newspap-
ers boomed the project, not discerning the
fine Italian Spreckels hand, and the peo-
ple became interested, and, they say, the
Spreckels sold the people again into the
hands of the opposition. Then Spreckels'
enemies point to a sugar proposition in
Philadelphia or somewhere when another
"independent proposition" was sold out to
the sugar trust. That, they say, is the
Spreckels way. We have been fooled so
often, why may we not be fooled again ?
These are some of the charges against
the Spreckels family. They are not new.
They are talked of from the "Barbary
Coast" to Fillmore street. But they have
lent a certain semblance of color to the
definately-made charges as to the motives
of Mr. Rudolph Spreckels, as though it
would make a scintilla of difference as to
the innocence or guilt of the San Fran-
cisco boodlers whatever were or are the
motives of Eudolph Spreckels. Even the
star-chamber methods alleged against the
graft prosecution ; the qualitative third de-
gree used upon boodler Euef, the immun-
ity club wielded over corrupt Supervisors,
nor the favor of judges, nor all of these
things that the "enemy" charges, could
hardly produce in juries the bringing of
convictions.-
But more intimate charges of selfish
motives than those against the Spreckels
family are those laid personally against
Mr. Rudolph Spreckels. Talk with Ru-
dolph Spreckels one minute on the subject
of graft prosecution, and you are instinct-
ively convinced of his disinterestedness.
I, at least, cannot go behind that feeling.
Yet in order to convince our intelligence,
let us set aside our conviction that Spreck-
els is honest, and take up the history of
the "graft prosecution."
In the year 1901, at the time of the
issue of the new city bonds, Abraham
Ruef, then the political boss of San Fran-
cisco, came to Spreckels and made a cor-
rupt proposition to him. The best evi-
dence of this is Spreckels' testimony given
last December when the graft prosecution
and the Grand Jury which returned the
indictments upon which the prosecution
has been based, were being assailed.
Spreckels, being put on the stand to
defend his motives in guaranteeing $100,-
000 to the graft prosecution, said:
"My object in guaranteeing this fund
was to ascertain the truth or falsity of the
charges of graft which had been generally
made. I had observed some of these
things myself.
"Mr. Ruef had come to me on two oc-
casions and intimated that he was in a
position to do certain things. He called
on me at the time of the issue of the city
bonds and asked me to organize a syndi-
cate to buy the bonds, and assured me
that this syndicate would be given the
bonds. I asked how he could make such a
promise when the bonds would have to
be offered in open market for bids.
" 'li would be an easy tiling to call a
strike in the street car system,' he replied,
'and then we would like to see what capi-
talists other than those who were in the
syndicate would bid!'
RUDOLPH SPRECKELS— GENIUS OF THE GRAFT PROSECUTION. 479
"At another time lie came to my office
at 421 Market street, in company with
Charles Sutro. Mr. Sutro left, and then
Mr. Ruef proposed to me that I make him
the attorney for the San Francisco Gas
and Electric Company. He said: 'I have
legal ability, and could ~be of service other-
That services "otherwise" performed
were to be the raising of the price of gas
through action of the Supervisors, the
personal property of the debonair boss.
Beginning with that time, Spreckels has
taken an active interest in the downfall of
the Ruef-Schmitz gang of corrupt officials.
He then conceived the campaign which
has resulted in the most startling disclo-
sures in American municipalities, and will
perhaps do more than all things else to
secure clean city Governments.
But Spreckels needed the men to do the
work. It required attorneys and detec-
tives ; in fact, a prosecuting force far and
away above the one on hand. Chance dis-
closed the attorney, and also the detective.
In a public speech at the last election,
Francis J. Heney, while fighting the bat-
tle which his cause lost against Schmitz,
had said : "Ruef is a crook and I can
prove it." That and the rest of Heney's
fiery, forceful, and fighting address went
beyond the calm exterior of Rudolph
Spreckels. For Spreckels had long been
convinced that the man who owned San
Francisco was a crook. He decided to
give Francis J. Heney the chance to
prove his assertion.
Then and there actively began the graft
prosecution. Heney, however, was in the
hire of the Government to prosecute the
land thieves in Oregon. Finally the at-
torney accomplished the bulk of his work
in that State and returned to San Fran-
cisco, a national figure with a reputation
as a prosecutor. "With Heney in his fight
against the corniptionists in Oregon was
William J. Burns, of the Government de-
tective service. They fought well to-
gether. Spreckels decided to get Burns
too, if he could. The releasing of Burns
from Government duty to fight the graft-
ers in San Francisco was accomplished
by Fremont Older, the editor of the Bul-
letin, and Spreckels' friend.
About this time, in the winter of 1905-
6, or as time is better reckoned, a few
months before the great fire, the United
Railroads endeavored to obtain of the
Board of Supervisors a franchise to elec-
trify the Sutter street cable line. The
Sutter Street Improvement Club, of
which Spreckels was a prominent mem-
ber, owning a good deal of property on
that street, appeared before the Board of
Supervisors to urge that corrupt body not
to permit an overhead trolley system to
be installed. They agreed that the cable
system was expensive and passing its day
of usefulness, but they suggested as an al-
ternative an underground conduit sys-
tem. Patrick Calhoun, President of the
United Railroads, objected to this, argu-
ing that it would be impracticable in this
climate. Spreckels thought this argu-
ment of impracticability a bluff. He
agreed to form a company to parallel the
Sutter street line with an underground
conduit system. He was as good as his
word, and a few days before the great fire
the articles of incorporation of the com-
/ pany were filed.
The forming of that company, and the
purposes it has been alleged to have been
formed for, have been, a stiletto in the
hands of Spreckels' enemies. Confusion
over different members of the same fam-
ily easily arises in the public mind, and
because that Claus, father of Rudolph,
had been accused of that traditionally and
suspiciously anxious desire, aforemen-
tioned, to sell out public service corpora-
tions which he had formed in opposition
to corporations already established, simi-
lar motives have been laid at Rudolph
Spreckels' door.
Rudolph Spreckels' enemies have
claimed that a heavy amount of Spring
Valley Water Company stock and bonds
are carried by the First National Bank of
San Francisco, and that a scheme has
been gotten up by Spreckels and ex-Mayor
James D. Phelan to force the Supervisors,
under the "big stick," to purchase the
Spring Valley plant at an exorbitant fig-
ure. In a libel suit against the "Oakland
Tribune," Mr. Spreckels testified that this
bank, of which he is president, holds only
twenty shares of Spring Valley stock, and
those only as security for a $150 loan.
Spreckels' "enemies" say this is an eva-
sion; they claim that he (Spreckels) is
interested in the stock, the ownership of
480
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
which is concealed by the alleged fact that
it is held by I. W. Hellman as trustee for
the Spreckels-Phelan interests.
Opposed to Spreckels and his forces
are those who probably would not stop
at murder if it could conveniently and
secretively be done, or at least if, by rais-
ing dust, the real murderers might not be
known.
The "grafters" have in every possible
manner used the imputations against
Spreckels' motives with the purpose of
influencing public opinion and biasing the
minds of jurymen. How difficult it has
been for Spreckels to overcome the false
impression given by the forming of that
company it is hard to say. Certainly, had
he ever had such motives he would
not have implicated himself in the eyes of
men by leading in the graft prosecutions,
nor, now that he is the furtherer of the
prosecutions will he identify himself with
such a public service corporation. There
is no reasonable excuse for believing that
Eudolph Spreckels formed the company
for any other reason than that publicly
stated, i. e., to prove that an underground
conduit system was practicable.
Spreckels is applying a business train-
ing to the details of the "graft" prosecu-
tion. When Fremont Older, editor of the
"Bulletin," was kidnaped, it was Spreck-
els who had located through his agencies,
the whereabouts of the missing editor. It
was Spreckels who, after midnight, ar-
ranged by telephone the legal means
whereby Older was removed from the
train at Santa Barbara. It would have
taken a regiment of constables to have
kept the editor a prisoner upon the train
as against the varied forces employed by
the young millionaire to secure the return
to San Francisco of Mr. Older. For
Spreckels had retained lawyers, consta-
bles, arranged for bail, and stirred up the
entire population of Santa Barbara by
telephone.
A purely altruistic motive is deemed so
rare in a world conducted and governed
on "business principles" that when an
honest man goes about doing the unselfish
thing with an honest purpose, those very
people for whose good he is striving look
for some deeply-hidden, selfish aim.
There are any number of people living
in San Francisco thoroughly well posted
on public events, who have a lingering
doubt in their mind as to the altruistic
motives of Rudolph Spreckels in farther-
ing the graft prosecution and backing it
up with his good, hard money. American
communities are so used to being over-
ridden by graft-seeking gangsters that
they cannot see straight any more. It is
an unheard of situation. It is unprece-
dented. They cannot find where Spreck-
els will benefit from his labors. They
cannot see a return on his expenditures.
That, of course, is an arraignment of
humanity rather than a grounds for ques-
tioning Rudolph Spreckels' honesty, but
the wise elector, who discusses politics
over the bar, shakes his head and does not
see what "there is in it" for "Spreckels.
Phelan and that gang." Abe Ruef sell-
ing out his native city in its most helpless
hour, dickering with its franchises and
knocking down to the highest bidder, was
understood, because it was merely an ex-
treme case of corruption to which people
were thoroughly accustomed. If he had
been even meaner and "sold the coppers
from his dead father's eyes," they could
have believed that, because it is the pro-
verbial meanest act, and humanity think*
poorly of itself.
Let a man like Rudolph Spreckels come
along, and, actuated by an honest indigna-
tion, pay men of talent to clean out the
gang of dirty-handed politicians, and his
motives are immediately doubted.
When Spreckels began his fight on cor-
ruption in San Francisco, he was practi-
cally fighting alone. He had a splendid
principle to fight under, but he was out
for nothing; he could subserve no one's
interests, and he was left to begin the
struggle practically by himself.
There were plenty of men in San Fran-
cisco who were ready to take up the fight
and support it by reading the news on the
subject in the papers, and even going to
the polls and vote for the reform candi-
dates, but when it came to putting up the
money with which to carry on the fight,
Spreckels "and a few others," unnamed,
were left to pay the bills.
Spreckels is German by blood, Ameri-
can in his ideals, but thoroughly Teutonic
in his determination. When he saw that
the graft prosecution would be a fizzle
if he did not personally come to the fore
EUDOLPH SPRECKELS— GENIUS OF THE GEAFT PROSECUTION. 481
and bear the burden himself, his "Dutch
mule" drove him to the sticking point,
.and as he has said himself, "I am in this
fight to stay."
Thinking no better of humanity than
the next man, I did not free myself of
doubt as to Rudolph Spreckels' purposes
until I had made an investigation as to
the possible gain and the events that lead
to his taking his present belligerent posi-
tion. I have come to the inevitable con-
clusion that he is thoroughly honest, and,
.since I am addressing a public as skepti-
cal as I, I give the reasons that lead me
to this belief.
When I agreed to write the present ar-
ticle on Rudolph Spreckels, I had no
formed opinions as to his motives. Like
•other ordinary citizens, I could see that
he was doing a good work, and let it go
.at that. But on accepting the commis-
sion to write an estimate of the man, I
-asked for the privilege of writing exactly
what I thought about him and was told
that that was what I was being paid for.
Only two things I knew from personal
•observation. I had seen Spreckels in
court day after day, month after month,
calm and determined, saying little, watch-
ing everything.
I had seen him run errands for As-
sistant District Attorney Heney and
come into court with his arms full of law
books. Then I had seen him sit without
the slightest change coming over his
placid face while counsel for the boodling
•official or bribe-giver on trial cast mud at
him and impugned his motives in being
where he was. I heard those sitting
around me in the courtroom say that it
was foolish for the prosecution to have
Spreckels in court every day; that it
looked bad. I wondered why he did it,
and as far as I got was the indifferent
•conclusion that he was there because he
"wanted to know what was going on.
What has Spreckels gained from the
graft prosecution? He has given his
time and money to what end? He has
warred against his class, in the eyes of
many people he has become a social
pariah. He has put his wife and family
in a position hard for women to bear. By
prosecuting the husbands of their friends
he has placed them where they have been
subject to slights which the women of
the prosecuted have not failed to heap
upon them. Spreckels himself has said
that this was the hardest thing for him
to bear. If many of the men at the
Pacific Union Club turned the cold shoul-
der to him, he could bear it, for he is a
man, but when his womanfolk were affect-
ed, there he was touched nearly.
It speaks well for humanity that the
friends of the prosecuted have stood by
them, even though guilty, but that has
made for Spreckels' discomfort. Many of
them are of his class. Some of them were
his friends.
In the light of political history, Spreck-
els will be looked upon as a great man.
There has been enough of martyrdom in
his career to assure him of that. He is
not without vanity, and undoubtedly he
will enjoy the reputation he acquires.
That will be his reward, infinitely above
the money motives which have been im-
puted to him.
Most of my readers will agree with me
in what I have said about Spreckels. How
many would have still kept a skeptical
tongue in their cheeks if I had written
this a year ago? Who will remain to
doubt that Spreckels' motives were altru-
istic, when time has proved that he got
no money return for the bitter struggle
he has made against corruption?
Spreckels has won his fight. He has
brought to the bar of justice the men
whom he believed to be guilty of bribe-
giving and bribe-taking. He has seen
some convicted, and his judgment has
been vindicated. He has often repeated
that he has no malice — of that no man
can judge. Nobody can say he wishes to
see an innocent man punished for a crime
he did not commit. His silence and un-
moved attitude, no matter how juries
voted, indicate that. He wishes to see
justice done. No one has yet produced
any proof that he has an axe to grind.
He has refused public office, and he has
constantly shunned publicity. Whenever
he has had anything to say, it has been
under oath.
DOWN AT THE WOMAN'S CLUB
BY
"JAC" LOWELL
You all have heard of smart Joe Bing,
A common type was he,
Of men we're always sure to meet
Where'er we chance to be;
But it is hardly fair to Man
To give poor Joe the rub,
Without a word 'bout Sally Jones
Who 'tends the Woman's Club?
Sal Jones she made an eggless cake,
She mixed it cheap an' thin,
But still it beat the ones to death
That had a dozen in!
It rose so fast it seemed as though
The loaf would fill a tub-
Sal made it all with mind an' tongue
Down at the Woman's Club.
Sal Jones she blacked her kitchen stove
When ev'ry coal was hot,
She blacked it "just as slick as grease,"
An' never left a spot.
She did not have to wash her hands,
Or give her nails a scrub —
An' why? — because the place she worked
Was at the Woman's Club !
Sal Jones she took a nurse's job,
An' though the case was bad,
Her presence quickly drove away
Each ache the patient had.
She did not need a doctor's- help,
She gave 'em all the snub,
An' won the case "by self alone" —
Down at the Woman's Club !
Sal Jones she knows the best of ways
For bringin' children up;
She don't believe in "bottle schemes,"
Nor feedin' from a cup.
She ain't no youngsters of her own,
Not one ! but what's the rub ?
She mothers millions (in her mind) —
Down at the Woman's Club.
A MEDIEVAL ROMANCE
BY
MAUK
voyaged by steamer
down the Lago de
Lecco through wild
mountain scenery and
by hamlets and villas,
and disembarked at
the town of Lecco.
They said it was
two hours by carriage to the an-
cient city of Bergamo, and that we
should arrive there in good season for the
railway train. We got an open barouche
and a wild, boisterous driver, and set out.
It was delightful. We had a fast team
and a perfectly smooth road. There were
MARK TWAIN.
towering cliffs on our left, and the pretty
Lago de Lecco on our right, and every
now and then it rained on us. Just be-
fore starting, the driver picked up in the
street a stump of cigar an inch long and
put it in his mouth. When he had carried
it thus for about an hour, I thought it
would be only Christian charity to give
him a light. I handed him my cigar, which
I had just lit, and he put it in his mouth
and returned his stump to his pocket !
We saw interior Italy now. The houses
were of solid stone, and not often in good
repair. The peasants and their children
were idle as a general thing, and the
donkeys and chickens made themselves at
home in drawing-room and bed-chamber,
and were not molested. The drivers of
each and every one of the slow-moving
market carts we met were stretched in the
sun upon their merchandise, sound asleep.
Every three or four hundred yards, it
seemed to me, we came upon the shrine of
some saint or other — a rude picture of
him built into a cross or a stone pillar by
the road-side. Some of the pictures of
the Savior were curiosities in their way.
They represented him stretched upon the
cross, his countenance distorted with
agony. From the wounds of the crown of
thorns; from the pierced
side: from the mutilated
hands and feet; from the
scourged body; from every
hand-breadth of his person
streams of blood were
pouring ! Such a gory,
ghastly spectacle would
frighten the children out
of their senses, I should
think. There were some
unique auxiliaries to the
painting, which added to
the effect.
3
484
OVEBLAXD MONTHLY.
These were genuine wooden and iron
implements, and were prominently dis-
posed about the figure, a bundle of nails,
the hammer to drive them, the sponge,
the reed that supported it, the cup of
vinegar, the ladder for the ascent of the
cross, the spear that pierced the Savior's
side. The crown of thorns was made of
real thorns, and was nailed to the sacred
head.
In some of the* Italian church paintings,
even by the old masters, the Savior and
the Virgin wear silver or gilded crowns
that are fastened to the pictured heads
with nails. The effect is as grotesque as
it is incongruous.
Here and there in the fronts of road-
side inns we found huge, coarse frescoes
of suffering martyrs like those in the
shrines. It could not have diminished
their sufferings any to be so uncouthly
represented. We were in the heart and
home of priestcraft — of a happy, cheer-
ful, contented ignorance, superstition,
degradation, poverty, indolence, and ever-
lasting, unaspiring worthlessness. And
we said fervently, it suits these people
precisely; let them enjoy it, along with
other animals, and Heaven forbid that
they be molested. We feel no malice to-
wards them.
We passed through the strangest, fun-
niest, undreamt-of old towns, wedded to
the customs and steeped in the sleep of
the older ages, and perfectly unaware that
the world turns round! And perfectly
indifferent, too, as to whether it turns
round or stands still.
They have nothing to do but to eat and
sleep, and sleep and eat, and toil a little
when they can get a friend to stand by
and keep them awake. They are not paid
for thinking — they are not paid to fret
about the world's concerns. They were
not respectable people, they were not wor-
tl/y people — they were not learned and
wise and brilliant people — but in their
breasts all their stupid lives long rested
a peace that passeth all understanding!
How can men, calling themselves men,
consent to be so degraded and happy?
We whisked by many a gray old medie-
val castle, clad thick with ivy that swung
its green banners down from towers and
turrets where once some old Crusader's
flag had floated. The driver pointed to
one of these ancient fortresses and said
(I translate) :
"Do you see that great iron hook that
projects from the wall just under the
highest window in the ruined tower?"
We said we could not see it at such a
distance, but had no doubt it was there.
"Well," he said, "there is a legend con-
nected with that iron hook. Nearly seven
hundred years ago that castle was the
property of the noble Count Luigi Gen-
naro Guido Alphonse di Geneva."
"What was his other name?" said one
of the party.
"He had no other name. The name I
have spoken of was all the name he had.
He was the son of—
"Never mind the particulars. Go on
with the legend."
Tl\e Legend.
"Well, then, all the world at that time
was in a wild -excitement about the Holy
Sepulchre. All the great feudal lords in
Europe were pledging their lands and
pawning their plate to fit out men-at-
arms so that they might join the grand
armies of Christendom, and win renown
in the Holy Wars. The Count Luigi
raised money, like the rest, and one mild
September morning, armed with battle-
axe, with barbican, cresset, portcullis, En-
field rifle, Prussian needle-gun and thun-
dering culverin, he rode through the
greaves of his donjon-keep with as gallant
a troop of Christian bandits as ever
stepped in Italy. He had his sword, Ex-
calibur, with him. His beautiful coun-
tess and her young daughter waved him a
tearful adieu from the battering-rams and
buttresses of the fortress, and he galloped
away with a happy heart.
"He made a raid on a neighboring baron
and completed his outfit with the booty
secured. He then razed the castle to the
ground, massacred the family, and moved
on. They were hardy fellows in the grand
old days of chivalry. Alas! those days
will never come again.
"Count Luigi grew high in fame in
the Holy Land. He plunged into the
carnage of a hundred battles, but his good
Excalibur always brought him out alive,
albeit often sorely wounded. His face
became browned by exposure to the Syrian
A MEDIEVAL ROMANCE.
485
sun in long marches; he suffered hunger
and thirst ; he pined in prisons, he lan-
guished in loathsome plague-hospitals.
And many and many a time he thought
of his loved ones at home and wondered
if all were well with them. But his heart
said, 'Peace, is not thy brother watching
over thy household?'
"Forty-two years waxed and waned.
The good fight was won; Godfrey reigned
in Jerusalem — the Christian hosts reared
the banner of the Cross above the Holy
Sepulchre.
"Twilight was approaching. Fifty har-
lequins, in flowing robes, approached this
castle wearily, for they were on foot, and
the dust upon their garments showed that
they had traveled far. They overtook a
peasant, and asked him if it was likely
they could get food and a hospitable bed
there, for love of Christian charity, and
if perchance a' moral parlor entertainment
might meet with generous countenance;
'for/ said they, 'this exhibition hath no
feature that could offend the most fas-
tidious.'
" 'Marry !' quoth the peasant, 'an' it
please your worships, ye had better go
many a good rood hence with your jug-
gling circus than trust your bones in yon-
der castle.'
" 'How now, sirrah !' exclaimed the
chief monk, 'explain thy ribald speech, or
by'r lady it shall go hard with thee.'
" 'Peace, good mountebank, I did but
utter the truth that was in my heart. San
Pablo be my witness that did ye but find
the stout Count Leonardo in his cups,
sheer from the castle's topmost battle-
ments would he hurl ye all ! Alack-a-day,
the good Lord Luigi reigns not here in
these sad times.'
"'The good Lord Luigi?'
" 'Aye, none other, please your worship.
In his day the poor rejoiced in plenty,
and the rich he did oppress; taxes were
not known ; the fathers of the church
tfaxed fat upon his bounty; travelers
went and came with none to interfere;
whosoever would, might tarry in his halls
in cordial welcome, and eat his bread and
drink his wine withal. But woe is me!
two and forty years agone the good count
rede away to fight for the Holy Cross, and
many a year has flown since word or token
w;is had of him. Men say his bones lie
bleaching in the fields of Palestine !'
" 'And now ?'
" 'Now ! God 'a mercy, the cruel Leo-
nardo lords it in the castle. He wrings
taxes from the poor; he robs all travelers
that journey by his gates. He spends his
days in feuds and murders, and his nights
in revel and debauch ; he roasts the fathers
of the church upon his kitchen spits, and
enjoyeth the same, calling it pastime.
These thirty years Luigi's countess hath
not been seen by any in all this land, and
many whisper that she pines in the dun-
geons of the castle for that she will not
wed with Leonardo, saying that she will
die ere she prove false to him. They whis-
per likewise that her daughter is a pris-
oner as well. Nay, good jugglers, seek
ye refreshment otherwheres. 'Twere bet-
ter that ye perished in a Christian war
than that ye plunged from off yon dizzy
tower. I give ye good day.'
" 'God keep ye, gentle youth — fare-
well/
"But heedless of the peasant's warning,
the players moved straightway towards
the castle.
"Word was brought to Count Leonardo
that a company of mountebanks besought
his hospitality.
" ' 'Tis well. Dispose of them in the
customary manner. Yet stay ! I have need
of them. Let them come hither. Later
cast them from the battlements — or — how
many priests have ye on hand?'
" 'The day's results are meagre, good
my lord. An abbott and a dozen beggarly
friars is all we have.'
" 'Hell and furies ! Is the State going
to secede? Send hither the mountebanks.
• Afterwards, broil them with the priests.'
"The robed and close-cowled harlequins
entered. The grim Leonardo sate in state
at the head of his council-board. Ranged
up and down the hall on either hand stood
near a hundred men-at-arms.
" 'Ha/villains !' quoth the Count, 'what
can ye do to earn the hospitality ye crave ?'
" 'Dread lord and mighty, crowded au-
diences have greeted our humble efforts
with rapturous applause. Among our
body count we the versatile and tal-
ented Ugolino; the justly-celebrated Ro-
dolpho; the infant phenomenon, Sig.
Beppo; the Palestine pet, Zelina; the
gifted and accomplished Rodrigo. The
486
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
management have spared no pains and
expense '
""Sdeath! What can ye do? Curb
thy prating tongue.'
" 'Good my lord — in acrobatic feats, in
practice with the dumb-bells, in balancing
and ground and lofty tumbling, are we
versed ; and sith your highness asketh me,
I venture here to publish that in the truly
marvelous and entertaining zampillero-
station —
" 'Gag him ! Throttle him ! Body of
Bacchus ! Am I a dog that I am to be
assailed with pollysyllabled blasphemy
like this? But, hold! Lucrezia, Isabel,
stand forth ! Sirrah, behold this dame,
this weeping wench. The first I marry
within the hour; the other shall dry her
tears or feed the vultures. Thou and thy
vagabonds shall crown the wedding with
thy merry-makings. Fetch hither the
priest !'
"The dame sprang toward the chief
player.
" '0 save me !' she cried. 'Save me
from a fate far worse than death ! Behold
these sad eyes, these shrunken cheeks, this
withered frame ! See thou this wreck this
fiend hath made, and let thy heart be
moved with pity! Look upon this dam-
sel; note her wasted form, her halting
step, her bloodless cheek where youth
should blush and happiness exult in
smiles ! Hear us and have compassion !
This monster was my husband's brother.
He who should have been our shield
against all harm, hath kept us shut with-
'in the noisome dungeons of his castle for
lo ! these thirty years. For what crime ?
None other than that I would not belie
my troth, root out my strong love for him
who marches with the legions of the Cross
in Holy Land, for 0, he is not dead ! and
wed with him ! Save us, 0, save thy per-
secuted supplicants !'
"She flung herself at his feet and
clasped his knees.
" 'Ha ! ha ! ha !' shouted the brutal Leo-
nardo. 'Priest, to thy work!' and he
dragged the weeping dame from her
refuge. 'Say, once for all, will you be
mine? for by my halidome that breath
that uttereth thy refusal shall be thy last
on earth.'
" 'Nev-er !'
" 'Then die !' and the sword leaped from
its scabbard.
"Quicker than thought, quicker than
the lightning's flash, fifty monkish habits
disappeared and fifty knights in splendid
armor stood revealed ! Fifty falchions
gleamed in air above the men-at-arms,
and brighter, fiercer than them all, flamed
Excalibur aloft, and cleaving downward,
struck the brutal Leonardo's weapon from
his grasp !
"Count Luigi bound his usurping
brother hand and foot. The practiced
knights from Palestine made holiday sport
of carving the awkward men-at-arms to
chops and steaks. The victory was com-
plete. Happiness reigned. Everybody
married somebody else."
"But what did they do with the wicked
brother?"
"Oh, nothing — only hanged him on
that iron hook I was speaking of. By
the chin."
"How?"
"Passed it np through into his mouth."
"How long?"
"Couple of years."
"Count Luigi — is he dead?"
"Six hundred and fifty years ago, or
such a matter."
"Splendid legend. Drive on!"
(Prom Overland Monthly of October, 1868.
This is one of the first and best stories written
by Mark Twain. Outside of its initial appear-
ance in Overland Montnly it has not before ap-
peared in print, and is here published at the
special request of a life subscriber to Overland
Monthly.)
THE VENGEANCE OF THE WILD
BY
HERBERT ARTHUR STOUT '
HE WILDERNESS
beyond the Great
Divide lay under the
touch of the white
silence. For several
weeks it had been
snowing heavily, al-
though it was now
near the end of April and the buds were
swelling on the dogwood trees. In the
open places the snow had drifted into
deep banks and treacherous mounds; in
the timber it had fallen more lightly, and
yet the sturdy firs and spruce trees stag-
gered under their burdens. League after
league, the white drifts stretched away
through the forests until they vanished
in the gray line of the horizon. Here and
there the tops of underbrush were barely
visible above the level of the snow, and
here and there whole ravines were
smoothed over as level as table-land.
As the day cleared a little and the snow
stopped falling, a mother panther led her
week-old cubs out from their cave on
the mountain straight across the waste
toward a thicket of firs where her uner-
ring instinct told her a deer had taken
refuge from the storm. The cubs were
ungainly and weak from hunger, but they
followed their mother bravely across the
deep snow. The mother looked gaunt and
famished from her long fast, and the trou-
ble of feeding two starving babies. When
they emerged from the timber, the male
panther, who had been guarding their ad-
vance, joined them. There was fresh
blood on his mouth; his shoulders were
stained with it, and he seemed tired. The
mother panther, as soon ( as she noticed
these signs, hurried her cubs forward
toward the fir grove. How her wild face
looked pride and love as she turned to
watch her ugly offspring sprawling over
each other in their efforts to follow herl
They, . too, began to scent the odor of
fresli blood. At the edge of the grove,
near the head of a deep ravine, they found
the body of a freshly killed deer lying in
the snow. He had been killed as he lay
in his bed under the brush. All around
on the snow were the traces of a hard
struggle. .The young cubs began to greed-
ily lap up the warm blood that oozed out
of a wound in the throat of the deer ; then
they fell to tearing at the flesh with little
growls of pleasure. The mother and
father watched them proudly. Famished
though they were, they would not eat a
mouthful until their offspring had had
their fill.
"Huntin' mighty bad now," said Joe
Cm-ran, the half-breed, with a grunt, as
he brushed the snow out of his face and
came out into an opening space between
the timber. He moved his powerful,
clumsy body forward on his snow-shoes
with the litheness of a cat. On his thick
shoulders he carried a small forty-pound
sack and a heavy rifle. He had started
early in the morning for Fort Edward, a
hundred miles across the Great Divide,
and was traveling as straight as the crow
flies. Behind him a gaunt Danish hound
followed in the trail. As the two plunged
into a grove of cedars, the half-breed
paused an instant. The hound began to
sniff the wind, with his nose high in the
air.
"Some panther," said the man, watch-
488
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
ing the dog curiously. Then he heard a
faint, indescribable noise far to the right.
Quietly slipping off his snow-shoes, he
thrust them upright in the snow of the
trail, and as stealthily as a shadow moved
out into the timber. His body was tense
like steel; his moccasined feet were noise-
less on the crust. Suddenly his eyes,
searching among the brown patches of
brush, caught the quick movement of
grey bodies. Quick as a flash he dropped
behind a spruce sapling with a motion of
warning to the quivering hound. Then
he wiggled from tree to tree until he was
at the head of a deep ravine partially
filled with snow. Not more than fifty
yards below him he saw four panthers
around the carcass of a deer. Two were
mauling and tearing at the throat of the
dead animal, while the male and female
sat watching them. The half-breed rea-
soned quickly. The cubs would make the
better rugs because their fur was softer.
They were too young and starved to out-
run him, therefore he could save two
shots. He would kill one of the old pan-
thers and knock the two cubs in the head
with his axe. Thrusting his gun through
the bush tops he shot at the mother, then
dashed forward, axe in hand. Through
the trees he saw the male and female
crossing the snow with great bounds,
though the female limped as she ran.
"Very bad, but I get you yet," said
Joe, when they had disappeared. He
calmly knocked the cubs in the head as
they sprawled over the deep snow in their
frantic efforts to escape. Without a trace
of feeling, he skinned the young bodies,
still warm and twitching. He rolled the
skins into a tight bundle and went back
to his snowshoes in the trail. Then he
took up his pack again and slouched for-
ward toward the North.
Late in the afternoon a storm began
to gather; the sky grew dull and dreary
and seemed to close in upon the snow-
fields. A low, heavy wind tossed the pine
boughs in its passage and moaned- across
the wilderness with the foretaste of death
in its weary voices. The half-breed looked
uneasily toward the North. Once the
dog turned back in the trail to howl at
the forests. His voice broke the stillness
into weird choruses, and from somewhere
far out in the white silence a strange cry
came back. Joe started and cursed the
dog. They both grew uneasier as night
began to settle over the forests and moun-
tains. The dog stopped every few seconds
to sniff the wind, and each time the half-
breed hurried forward a little faster. Long
shadows crept out over the snow; the trees
began to blurr a little, then grew inky
black against the white. The mountain
peaks seemed to fade back into indistinct,
shadowy lines. At last, through a break
in the timber, Joe saw the vague outlines
of a log cabin. With a sigh of relief he
glided into the open and drew near the
hut. The door was down, and a pile of
snow lay in the center of the floor, but
the trapper noticed first that the walls
and the roof were strong and massive.
"Ah, Joe too smart for you dat time,"
he shouted, waving his clenched hand at
the silent, darkening forest.
Then he fell swiftly to work cleaning
away the snow from the fireplace and
straightening up the door. After that he
cocked his rifle and went to the edge of
the forest to drag in huge piles of dead
limbs. The dog went with him each time
until the last load was in and piled up
beside the chimney. As Joe was dragging
in the last armful the hound dashed at
the brush and into the timber with a
fierce growl ; the hair on his back bristled
savagely, and his teeth came together with
a click. The half-breed gave one startled
glance at the forest, then calling to the
hound, ran with all his strength toward
the cabin. In a few seconds the hound
followed him into the hut with a low,
melancholy howl that sent cold waves
sweeping over his master's body. He hur-
ried to put the door up with heavy tim-
bers of log. Then he made the rude win-
dow shutters fast with staples of oak. Af-
ter he had fastened the door and win-
dow to his satisfaction, he crawled twice
around the floor on his hands and knees
looking for any chance openings. Then
he began to breathe easier again.
He" kindled a fire on the hearth; the
ruddy light of the blaze tinted the rude
walls and rafters with gold and put a
brave, cheery glow over the dark-stained
floor. The half-breed ate his scanty sup-
per of dried venison and biscuit in silence,
while the dog slept by the side of the
fireplace. After supper he took out his
THE VENGEANCE OF THE WILD.
489
pipe and smoked with thoughtful atten-
tion to the blaze. Then he cleaned his
snowshoes and wiped the water off his
rifle barrel. Out of his pack he dragged
a -heavy blanket which he spread on the
floor close to the fire after he had care-
fully swept away the snow. These pre-
parations for sleep having been completed,
he took a little silver cross from his
breast, and kneeling in the ashes, prayed
long and silently. The light fell upon
his dark, bronzed face with a soft glow;
the muscles of his powerful throat stood
out in relief, and his lips moved fervently
in the shadow. Then he kissed the cruci-
fix with reverent lips before he replaced it
on his broad chest. Carefully he built up
the fire with heavy pieces of wood. Then,
before he rolled himself in his blanket, he
stood his rifle against the wall near his
head with the hammer back, and his long
knife lay unsheathed within easy reach cf
his arm.
The wind moaned loudly around the
walls of the cabin through the whole
night. Now it roared with the sound of
a torrent, now it fell lower into faint
whisperings while the fire blew out flat
along the hearth. It was during one of
these intervals of mysterious quiet that
the hound heard the scratching and
sniffing of some animal outside near the
door. He got up from the fireplace to
rush at the door, his hair bristling and his
eyes ablaze with hate. Then he heard
something climbing the fir tree near the
window, and the soft scratching of nails
on the roof. A sound at the chimney
warned him suddenly in that direction.
He whipped round and rushed near the
fire. Far up the chimney were two coals
of fire blazing down into his, and in that
same instant a wailing scream rose above
the roaring of the storm. Joe Curran
leaped out of his blanket in a flash and
seized his rifle. He too heard the scrap-
ing of feet on the roof, then the thud of
some heavy body leaping down upon the
snow. The wind fell into a strange hush.
A weird cry answered the first from the
forests.
"Mon Dieu!" said the half-breed with
a shudder. He heaped limbs on the fire
until it leaped up into a strong blaze. Then
he took his position on a box near the
chimney and nodded half asleep until a
gray light began to steal through the
chinks in the walls of the cabin.
In the wan light of the early dawn, Joe
aroused himself, and after replenishing
the fire, took down the heavy door. With
his rifle in one hand, he went out into the
cold morning. A few stars still burned
palely in the West, while in the East the
pines stood out black against the faint,
grey day-break. Then he saw in the half-
light two vague forms, faintly outlined
against the white background, moving
across the snow near the timber. He shot
twice without putting the gun to his
shoulder, but the figures vanished swiftly.
Going back to the cabin, he saw a beaten
path around the walls, as if some heavy
animal had trodden around the hut dur-
ing the whole night. He went inside and
warmed his simple breakfast over the fire.
After that he prepared his feet for the
trail, but suddenly changed his mind and
went outside again to examine the path
around the cabin in the clear daylight.
There were two distinct tracks, one large
and broad, with the impress of long toes
in the snow, the other smaller and more
slender, with two toes missing on the
right forefoot.
"Maybe they get tired soon," he
thought. "Anyway, Joe stay here and
see."
He dragged in more brush from the
forest; he cut two great piles of fir
boughs and made a bed of them to the
right of the fireplace. Then he cleaned
the snow out of the cabin with an energy
that revealed his powerful arms. The
window was re-examined and braced; two
or three places on the roof needed repair-
ing : the door needed a stronger prop. Joe
did all these tasks with a litheness and
swiftness that his clumsy shoulders seemed
incapable of producing, and yet did pro-
duce with marvelous grace. They fur-
ther revealed the strength and capabilities
of the half-breed trapper.
He passed the day near the log hut, now
yawning over the fire, now searching the
clearing for a stray grouse that might
have wintered there. Once he shot a grey
squirrel that had been attracted out by the
sun breaking through the clouds for a
few minutes. The night passed much as
it had previously. The same wind roared
through the pines with similar intervals
490
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
of strange quiet ; and there were the same
sniffings at the door. But Joe, tired out
from his work, slept on unheeding in his
bed of fir boughs, while the blasts moaned
around the cabin and mysterious feet
scratched over the roof.
On the morning of the third day, the
half-breed saw with dismay how his little
store of provisions had dwindled. He
knew that Fort Edward was still distant
two days of hard traveling across the
Great Divide. A grim, hard expression
came into his face. The heavy snow
would prevent him from relying upon any
game; he might even be forced to spend
three days in traveling if another storm
came on. Silently he rolled his meagre
supply of jerked meat and biscuit into his
blanket with the young panther skins, now
stiff and hard. Then he went out of the
door and tied his snow shoes on his feet.
He had taken a dozen steps into the trail
going north when a thought came to him
suddenly. He turned back to the cabin,
and taking a piece of charcoal from the
fireplace, wrote on the wall his name and
the date. Under it he drew a rude pic-
ture of two panthers. Once more he moved
away from the cabin and across the clear-
ing toward the far-away north with a
deep scowl on his dark, swarthy face. It
seemed to him as if he were leaving friends
that he would perhaps never see again.
Far out in leagues of forest and mountain
the wilderness stretched away to the hori-
zon's rim locked in the frozen silence of
the snow and full of savage forces that
must be conquered before he would look
upon the friendly smoke of Fort Edward.
Behind him at an ever-growing distance
lay the only place of shelter or safety for
a hundred miles. The half-breed felt the
cross against his breast and prayed in his
wild heart for help against the cruel eyes
that watched him from the shadows of the
forest.
All that day he traveled northward at
a rapid pace without pausing even long
enough to eat. The snow was firm enough
to bear him up well, and his snowshpes
shot his heayy body forward in long,
swinging glides. The dog followed stead-
ily in his rear as though he knew the dan-
ger of leaving the trail for an instant.
The half-breed had not seen or heard any
signs of wild life since he left the cabin,
though he had kept a sharp outlook. His
eyes never left the limbs that overhung the
trail until he was well out from under
them. The forest was as silent as though
cast in a spell. He began to think the
panthers had turned back. About three in
the afternoon, Joe shortened his stride to
an ordinary walk. He was climbing a
long mountain, heavily timbered and
deeply gashed with a wild, sombre canyon
half full of snow. The wan afternoon
light fell in slants through the fir boughs,
and the trees shook a little in the cold
wind. Far out to the right he saw the
great forests of the plain, and an open
stream or two running into lakes and
frozen marshes. He had trapped and
hunted along those lakes for the last three
years. On the ridge of the mountain he
paused to follow the winding course of the
Muskegee River with his eyes, until he
lost it in the northern forests of the Mus-
kegee Mountains. The fort lay at the head
of that river near the mountains, still a
day and a half away.
"We make him yet I" he said to the dog.
His face began to clear and his spirits rose
as the memory of the last few days sank
into the intervening miles. He waved a
welcome to the river and went on again.
Then, as he crossed a low ravine, he
stopped suddenly and seized his hair with
his mittened hand. The hound sniffed the
trail with a low growl. Crossing the trail
were the recent tracks of two large ani-
mals ; the smaller track had two toes miss-
ing on the right forefoot.
"Mon Dieu!" said the half-breed, with
something like despair in his dark face
as he stood in the fading light looking out
through the sombre pines, with their
shadows deepening from grey into purple
and gold.
Something of the hopelessness of fate
swept over him at that moment; he was
face to face with a relentless force that was
as cruel as it was irresistible. But his old
buoyant sense of living, born and fostered
among the wild forces of nature, came
back to him. All the forces of his will,
all his energy, rushed into his face. He
cocked his rifle, loosened the knife in its
?hea,th, then slipped warily along the track
of the panthers. The trail crossed a ridge,
passed around the head of a gully, and
plunged into a dense thicket of tamaracks
THE VENGEANCE OF THE WILD.
401
and high brush covering a few hundred
square feet in area. The trapper moved
cautiously around the grove with every
sense alert. Suddenly the hound dashed
into the edge of the thicket. There was a
short scuffle, the flash of grey bodies, then
the half-breed fired from his belly as he
lay flat on the snow. He got to his feet
and ran forward into the thicket. The
hound lay gasping his last breath with
blood running from an ugly wound in his
throat and staining the snow a deep crim-
son. A few feet from his dying body lay
the gaunt mule panther with a rifle bullet
in his brain.
The trapper gave one look at the bodies
to make sure that the hound was dying,
then he turned and ran back on his tracks
until he came to the trail. Straight north
along the trail he ran until he was on the
brow of the mountain. His face was pale
and his eyes were staring. Without paus-
ing, he plunged down the mountain
through the gathering dusk. Every few
minutes he looked back over his shoulder
as he ran. Night fell over the forests sud-
denly. When it was too dark to travel in
safety, the half-breed stopped running and
looked about him for a place to spend the
night. He selected a wide opening in the
forest. Hurriedly he cut fir boughs and
spread them on the hard snow in the cen-
ter of the open space. Then with his axe
he cut heavy props, and using them as a
lever, rolled a dozen of the largest logs and
limbs he could find into the open glade.
He arranged them in a circle around his
bed. Then he built up over the logs until
his bed was surrounded by a pile four feet
high. When the circle was complete, he
set fire to the damp logs, which, owing to
their dampness, would burn the entire
night. Inside this circle of fire he passed
the night safely. But the howling of the
timber wolves and the strange cry of a
wandering panther kept him awake the
greater part of the dark hours. Two or
three times the fire had to be replenished
and the circle kept intact.
Up to this time the weather, though
dark and threatening, had produced noth-
ing more serious than a cold wind. But
now it changed in earnest. Toward morn-
ing the wind freshened and a fine snow be-
gan to fall. When the first wan, grey light
stole over the world, the half-breed rolled
out of his blankets and made ready for
the trail again. Huddled over the dying
fire, he ate his last few pieces of hard-
tack and venison, while the snow fell
silently over his broad shoulders. Then
the day cleared a little as he took up the
trail once more, and the snow stopped
falling while the wind fell lower. But Joe
shook his head sadly; he was too skilled
in woodcraft not to know that this was
only a lull in the storm. Fort Edward
must be reached before night; he set his
teeth resolutely as he labored along the
heavy trail. It was slow work, for the
new snow was continually balling up on
his snow-shoes, making them unwieldy.
Sometimes he had to stop and brush it off
before he could go on again. He was
weaker, too ; the scanty rations of the last
three days had begun to tell upon his
vitality.
Keeping a sharp watch on the trail, he
plunged ahead dauntlessly, shaking the
soft snow from the trees out of his face
with the energy of a bull moose. Soon the
nature of the country began to change, the
level places giving way to rocky gorges and
steep canyons. About noon he paused to
rest on a ledge of rock overlooking a deep
canyon. He had lost his old alertness and
caution; his body slouched forward a lit-
tle. Above his head and to the rear was
a jut of rock not more than ten feet from
where he rested. But Joe was too tired
to notice his situation. He felt sleepy and
worn out. As he rested on the ledge,
gradually a delicious warmth crept over
his limbs, and his head nodded on his
breast.
Out of the timber beyond the neck of
the canyon was the long, lithe body of a
grey animal creeping toward the rock
that jutted out above the head of the nod-
ding half-breed trapper. The animal was
creeping forward with its body close to
the snow, and its long tail jerked back and
forth with a nervous motion. It crawled
through a clump of young fir tops, glid-
ing between the branches so silently that
not a breath of sound broke the sharp
"silence. The yellow eyes of the crawling
panther never left the figure of the trapper
on the ledge. Once the man stirred slight-
ly— in an instant the beast lay flat against
the snow. Then the panther moved nearer
again. Each foot came down as noiselessly
492
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
as the soft pad of a kitten. It crossed the
last clear space and disappeared behind
the great rock. There was no sound to
warn the dozing man that the panther
was climbing the rock behind him. In a
brief space the cruel head appeared above
the higher ledge. The tired trapper still
sat with his head on his breast and his
gun across his knees. The panther lay
watching him several minutes, her yellow
eyes blazing with savage hate. Her lean,
scrawny body seemed worn down to bone
with hunger. Under the fixed gaze of her
cruel eyes the trapper began to grow un-
easy in his sleep. Some subtle influence
was working into his consciousness. He
stirred a little. Then the panther gath-
ered herself for a spring. A bit of snow
crumbled off the ledge under her tense
claws. The half-breed awakened with a
start, his senses all alert, and turned to-
ward the higher ledge of rock. That in-
stant the panther left the high shelf of
granite with a terrible scream. Joe, half
turning, shot at the body as it leaped upon
him, and jumped backward with a power-
ful spring. The body of the panther struck
him squarely in the chest and hurled him
over the ledge into the deep gorge. His
gun leaped through the air and fell far
out into the canyon. The trapper shot for-
ward a dozen feet, then his body rolled
over and over into the gorge until he
struck a tree near the bottom. As soon as
he stopped rolling he sat up with a grin.
"Ah, Joe get VQU dat time," he laughed,
shaking his fist at the dead body of the
panther which had lodged on the ledge far
above him. He felt strangely weak, so he
sat quietly resting a few seconds. Then
he started to get up, and go hunt for his
gun. As he rose to his feet, his right leg
sank under him, and he pitched forward
into the snow. He tried to get up again
with the same result.
"Mon Dieu ! My God !" he wailed. He
started to crawl up the steep side of the
canyon toward the ledge where his broken
snowshoes and the dead panther lay. If
he could reach that he would have enough
to eat for several days. Perhaps by that
time some one would pass over the trail
and find him. After an hour of slow,
painful crawling he was almost a third of
the way up the side of the gorge. Then
he slipped on the treacherous snow and
rolled to the bottom of the canyon again.
Once more he started up the side of the
wall. The effort was only the repetition
of the former failure. His hands had
grown numb with cold until they were al-
most useless.
"Joe know how to die," he said aloud.
He crawled under the sheltering branches
of some fir trees. He cut off enough
branches to make a bed. After that he
rolled himself in his blanket with his face
covered. A numbness, then a kindly
warmth, stole over his weary body. The
snow began to fall again, first in light
flurries, then in heavy flakes. In the can-
yon it gradually covered the man; now it
hid his limbs; now it covered his shoul-
ders : at last it covered his bowed head. Up
on the ledge the dead panther lay stiff
and cold. Through the forest the shadows
of night and the whirling snow danced in
weird figures, while the winds swept down
off the great mountain and moaned softly
around the rock ledges.
TO PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY
BY LANXIE HAYNES MARTIN
Shelley, thy soul drifts back to me in the mist of the dawn-drenched shore;
I hear thy vibrant poetry in the rhythmic water's roar;
And like an aura from thy dreams is the purpling light on the sea —
The shimmering glow of the morning seems the breath of thine ecstacy.
And the scintillant glint of the waves, and the gem-enameled shore,
Which the emerald ocean laves, leaving foam-pearl strands strewn o'er,
Are naught but transmuted gleams from those jeweled words of thine —
Like rainbows and crystal moonbeams distilled to an opaline wine.
CAPRI IN THE MOONLIGHT.
VILLA LIFE ON CAPRI
BY
ALOYSIUS COLL
ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS
WAY BACK in the
days of ancient Eome
the Emperor Augus-
tus discovered the
beauties of the isle of
Capri, known as the
"pearl of the bay of
Naples." He built
on the island twelve villas, in honor of
the twelve Boman deities, and passed
many days there in the enjoyment of the
mild climate, the beautiful flowers and
the companionship of his friends. His
successor, Tiberius, followed the example
set by his predecessor, and Eoman his-
torians are responsible for many stories
concerning the brutality of the old Em-
peror towards his slaves during his last
years on the island. There is also Eo-
man history for his self-indulgence with
his women and boon companions in the
beautiful light of the "Blue Grotto," the
original entrance to which was the door-
way hewn out of the rock by the Eomans,
and which now serves to intensify the
blue reflection on the rocks of the in-
terior, since the island has settled during
some volcanic disturbance, and sub-
merged the doorway about forty feet un-
der water; it is this immersed window in
the sea, which, drinking in the sunlight
through the blue goggles of the Mediter-
ranean, as it were, gives the cavern
its miracle of color effects, its beauty and
its mystifying grandeur.
Just as the selection of Caori for his
villas made the island popular in the an-
cient days, so the wonders of the Blue
Grotto has made the spot a mecca for
tourists for many years. But it is only
494
OVEELAND MONTHLY.
within the past five or ten years that for-
eigners have come to look upon the spot as
an eerie on which to perch their little
white castles. But so rapid has the move-
ment progressed that at present there are
probably two hundred private villas on
the little island, which is scarcely seven
miles long, and almost cut in half in the
middle.
Villa life on Capri is, 'if one chooses
to make it so, the laziest existence in the
world. The crispness of the sea air is
at Naples, and ten times as pleasant,
though at times during the dry spells, the
fine white dust is regarded as a drawback;
this, however, is confined chiefly to the
roadways — the gardens and groves are too
busy putting forth an everlasting array of
color and shape; the purple of the mar-
guerite and the butterfly azure of the
Caprese iris; the silver of the olive leaf;
the rich, enduring green of the orange and
the lemon — too busy, yes, covering every
inch of gray tuffa soil with green and gold
CAPRI WAS MADE FOR DONKEYS, NOT FOR CARRIAGES.
conducive to one of two things; either
one gives way to the sunshine, the gran-
deur of the purples and the gold in the
evening and morning skies, the soothing
gray cliffs, the wealth of flowers, the white
banked terraces crowded with a luxuri-
ance of Indian figs, olives, oranges, lem-
ons ; the quaint charm and winsomeness of
the natives — or else one is overwhelmed
with a never-ending desire to be up and
doing, something, anything, to match the
wild energy of nature on this tongue of
rock curled up from the mouth of the sea.
The climate is doubly as healthful as that
and red and saffron, to allow the gather-
ing of the tantalizing fine ' powder.
In the building of the villas on Caori
no certain style of architecture has been
adhered to, but all the more prominent
are situated so that one or the other of
the frowning heights of the island may
be utilized for a look-out. Most of the
villas front towards Naples, but many
have one side turned to the south, and
have the sunshine all the day long; "a
room full south" is an expression that
carries with it more weight in Italy than
the average American is willing to admit,
VILLA LIFE ON CAPEI.
495
until he comes to count the difference in
lire between his sleeping chamber with a
flood of sunshine and one without it.
Every building in Capri is constructed
out of the native tuffa rock covered with
a stucco, and as a result the town of Capri
is a series of white stairways of houses,
rising street above street, every house
gleaming white in the sunlight and stand-
long string of pink and white coral,
stretched out by giant hands on the sands
of the distant rim of the bay. The Ap-
pennines are long pillows of iridescent
purple, the snow on the caps turned into
running gold, and the rocks in the giant
ravines into fragments of some stupen-
dous opal, flashing and intermingling
with every tremor and movement of the
PATHS THAT SCALE THE CLIFFS OF CAPRI.
ing out free and noble against the green
background of orange and lemon trees, or
the gray heights of the flanking cliffs.
There is probably no more beautiful view
in all Italy than may be gotten from
Mount Solaro heights, the loftiest peak
on the island, almost any evening when
the sunset is deepened by a few fleecy
clouds; to the north Naples looks like a
eye. Vesuvius stands in the foreground,
so much like the full throat and breast of
a woman that every moment one feels
assured the great string of white and pink
coral will be folded back and clasped
about her dark, foreboding beauty. If you
will slowly turn your head to the right,
you will see Torre del Greece, that little
city which sits under the nose of Vesu-
496
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
vius. so constantly in danger and so often
destroyed that it is said of her, "Naples
makes the sins, and Torre del Grecco pays
for them." Farther still to the right lies
the brown dreariness of Pompeii, more
like the cork model of Pompeii in the
Naples museum than the cork model it-
self can ever possibly be; then comes Cas-
tellemmare, the site of that old Stabiae
where Pliny was suffocated while fleeing
from the eruption which preserved the
only cities of antiquity left for our re-
search and investigations ; then comes the
beautiful crescent of the bay, including
after year. The Piccolo Marina, the
south landing beach, with its rocks rolled
back into the sea, like awkward bathers
that can neither swim nor come ashore,
standing afraid and motionless in the surf
is pure gold, and Barbarrossa's castle
turns one brown cheek to Naples, and the
other, like an iron-blooded country lad
aflush before the evening hearth, full and
red into the fire of the setting sun !
A group of Belgian, German and
American artists and writers were bathing
in the surf when I was on the island in
March, and I found the water not as cold
THE GARDEN OF THE VEDDER VILLA.
Meta, Sorrento and many little interme-
diate towns, all outlined against the green
olives and oranges and lemons which fill
every little vale and upland like a fallen
oloud of verdure. Then, nearer still, is
the blue stretch of the sea, splashed with
a great torrent of red fire, that has bathod
also the twin peaks of Faraglione's rocks,
and the gray ruins of the Temple of Jove
on the Tiberius hill, and the frowning
walls of the old medieval castle on the
next hill, where the Christians were wont
to flee for safety during the days when
the cruel Saracens raided the island year
in the little harbor at the Piccola Marina
as I have known it during a popular rush
at Atlantic City. But the natives do not
bathe before May, no matter how warm
the sea may be, in the rut of reasoning as
the American who never casts off his
flannels before the first of June, no matter
what the thermometer may register.
Wherever there is sea there is bathing,
but the Caprese villa habitant varies
his or her life more than the narrow lim-
its of the little Paradise would seem to
allow. It is treason to have coffee a-nd
rolls before ten o'clock, and then it is
"ONE CAN DROP A PEBBLE INTO THE SEA FROM MANY OF THE
CAPRI VERANDAS."
498
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
usually taken in the bed chamber. If
there is any of the morning left after
breakfast, there is the garden to look af-
ter, the gardenias to admire, the iris to
clip, the violets to gather, the doves and
the African monkey to play with. Lunch
is the first real meal of the day, but is
often light also, though the native butler
serves it with all the decorum of a king's
steward. After lunch there is a drive to
Morgano, for surely there is always a
new face to study there — a Maxim Gorky,
come to Capri to escape the sneers of an
American public, and to carry on his work
without the pale of the "Bear that Walks
Like a Man," or a Belgian artist, with
his round face and childish hair; or a
.young American playwright, living luxu-
riously on the royalties of his first <fbig
hit ;" or a trio of dainty French girls that
VILLA OF THE COUNTESS OF NAM1CH S DAUGHTER.
Anacapri, the road leading around the
heights of Solara, cut in the solid sheer
cliff, with the dashing sea a thousand feet
below, so directl}r under that a dropped
pebble falls into the foam. Coming back
from the quaint old town, there is a beau-
tiful garden hanging over the cliff, where
the sun is warm, and the flowers are
bright, and better still, where the tea and
the biscuits are good and inexpensive. Or
perhaps one wishes to have tea at the Cafe
the man across the table is watching curi-
ously because he remembers having seen
them last on the deck of a Nile house
boat. Or perhaps a friend has sent you
a card for tea, and you go there, and find
her husband just as busy with the cups as
his wife. Nobody works in Capri after
dinner; the sunny afternoon is sacred to
the admiration of the flowers and the
birds; the visit of a friend, the drinking
of tea. the climbing of the romance-laden
VILLA LIFE ON CAPRI.
499
hills, the roaming in old ruins, the peep-
ing into strange red and white and green
grottoes — never, never may these golden
hours be cast up to the gods of toil.
There are only a few roads in Capri —
there are many heautiful paths. Caori
was made for the donkey, not the carriage.
Within the past few months a society
which calls itself "Pro Capri" has been
industriously adding to the beauty of the
island. The society employs the poor
building paths over the most inaccessible
cliffs, every path paved with lava and pro-
tected with a heavy guard, wall of con-
most beautiful of the villas is that known
as the "Tower of the Four Winds." It
was erected directly under the frowning
heights of Mt. Solaro, and faces, from its
great tower, the winds in four directions;
it is the home of the world-renowned art-
ist, Vedder, who shared the honors of a
popular book with Edward Fitzgerald,
because, as almost everybody knows, he il-
lustrated the translation of the Rubaiyat.
In the very top of the tower the artist is
wont to sleep when he lives in his villa,
and since the house clings to the heights
of the mountain, every story of the man-
=
DOORWAY TO THE VILLA OF THE BRITISH CONSUL.
crete. Here and there these paths wind
around precipices and terminate in little
vine shadowed look-outs, where the weary
may sit on seats provided by the society,
and see the greatest beauties of nature
for a glance. Or you may give ear to the
chorus of old women who rival the Nea-
politan cabmen in their competition for
trade. If you decide to travel by don-
key, you ride the animal, even if you be
twenty-five, while the xold woman walks
behind, even be she eighty-nine.
Capri never hungers for the lack of
the artistic or the Bohemian. One of the
sion has a landing on the ground floor ex-
cept the last. Surrounding the house it-
self are courts and gardens, that to the
west and facing Naples especially, having
a chaste beauty that no picture can do
justice. A long row of columns divide the
olive trees from the blue vista of the sea
below and beyond, and the light effects on
these, through the trees, and in the dis-
tance towards the house, are striking and
novel. Behind this garden the artist has
built a studio, which has no connection
with the house. This workshop of the
painter is severe in its furnishings, but
500
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
has admirable skylights, and a magnifi-
cent old mantle. A bronze statue or two,
a nearly completed oil upon the easel, a
lasco Theatre in New York. As if to
still further keep up the romantic habita-
tion of the villa, Mr. Tully's wife happens
palette smeared with paint — how like a to be Eleanore Gates, who wrote the
real painter's shop it seems ! Vedder is at "Diary of a Prairie Girl/' "The Plough-
I
SHADOW STUDY OF A CAPRI VILLA.
present in Home, and his house, with
everything that he prizes within it, is
now the home of "Richard Tully, the young
Californian, whose play, the "Rose of the
Rancbo," written in collaboration with
David Belasco, is now running in the Be-
woman," and many fascinating short
stories. Every room in the house is redo-
lent of the artistic career of the owner,
and of his daughter, whose designs in
wood rival her father's work with the
brush and palette. There are many of
VILLA LIFE OX CAPEI.
501
Tedder's earliest paintings, as well as
some of his work, showing the fruits of
his life toil and study; the painted gifts
why all my admiration for the beautiful
"Tower of the Four Winds" is not con-
fined to my appreciation of the man who
VEDDER S TOWER OF THE FOUR W1XDS.
of artist friends and companions of the
whole world, hanging the walls of cham-
ber after chamber with a wealth of real
talent. Then, I must not forget the villa
has a fine tennis court, and Peppino, the
chef, has learned how to make American
biscuit, and when these attractions are
put within the gift of a hospitable and
happy young couple from the West, and
a fellow member of the craft like myself
happened to come within the net of their
good will, it is not difficult to understand
helped to elucidate the Persian poet or his
rich visions of religion and the romance
that comes too near the love and the
veneration of Christ to be altogether
Pagan.
Then there is the villa of the British
Consul, Harold Trower, so much a gentle-
man that one feels as if some sort of a
title should precede the bare vowels and
consonants of his name. .He has been
twelve years in Capri, and refuses a pro-
motion because he cannot make up his
PATHS IN THE ROCKS WHICH TERMINATE IN LITTLE LOOKOUTS
ON THE SEA/'
VILLA LIFE ON CAPEI.
503
mind to quit his little white palace, his
gardens and his sympathies with the na-
tives of the island, every one of whom sa-
lutes him with genuine respect. His villa
occupies the turn of the hill opposite the
villa of Jove, and walking up and down
the long terrace between its rows of Doric
columns, it is no task to hurl a stone into
the sea below. A long walk leads through
a luxuriant garden from the portals where
one first learns that he is setting foot on
the ground of one of His Majesty's diplo-
matic officers to the pretty entrance to the
house itself. The villa of the American
Consular Agent, Mr. Jerome, is one of the
largest and most beautiful on the island,
though it does not make a showing from
the outside, since the terraces are raised
above the streets; in fact, the gardens
cover a whole square, the narrow, dark
streets, with people living in them, being
underneath. The villa of the artist Cole-
man has perhaps the most noteworthy
treasures within it of any on Capri. In
addition to many of his own paintings,
there are many gifts from his friends, a
collection of antiquities from Capri itself
and from Pompeii, beautiful tiles in every
room, courts paved with the marbles taken
from the rich homes of Pompeii, a wealth
of flowers and palms;
The grandson of the poet Wordsworth
has a beautiful villa on the island, be-
tween the British consulate and the villa
of Tiberius; it has a garden with many
white columns with Corinthian capitals,
busts and flowers, and vines in profu-
sion.
And one of the villas now building is the
property of the daughter of the Duchess
of Warwick, known widely in America for
her work on behalf of working girls in
England. She has purchased a site ex-
tending to the summit of the hill behind
the British consul; her villa faces south,
has a garden planted with many English
as well as native plants, and already gives
promise of being in the near future a
beauty spot on this — the floating garden
of the Oriental Mediterranean.
STUDIO IN THE VEDDER VILLA.
AT THE GOLDEN HORN AND THE
GOLDEN GATE
BY CLINTON SCOLLAKD
The sunrise cry from many minarets
Floats down the Maytime morning clear and cool,
From Asian shores a bland breeze westward sets
And stirs the almond trees of Istamboul.
As on the mosques the first rays slantwise shine,
And golden glory floods the gloomy gray,
The city of imperial Constantine
Uplifts her weary lids to greet the day.
The torpor of decay upon her lies ;
Her heart is palsied though her face be fair,
Though still majestic to the changeless skies
Aya Sofia rears its dome in air.
Soon through her streets a motley concourse pours
With turbaned head and sullen eye and brow;
While to and fro between the swarming shores
Dart noiseless, narrow boats with double prow.
What though the fitful glow of life seem warm,
There broods' a fatal apathy o'er all —
It is the hush that bodes the rising storm,
The calm that comes before the final fall.
Far from the shrines where paynim Moslems kneel,
Their shaven crowns in prayer towards Mecca bent,
Serene she sits in ever-growing weal,
The youthful empress of the Occident.
•
Hers is no record of dark years of crime,
Of savage plunder, and of fire and sword;
Time has not touched her with his whitening rime,
Nor loosed upon her a devouring horde.
Her heart is as the heart of some young maid,
Untrammeled by all bonds, and fresh and free;
And joying in her birthright, unafraid,
She bares her bosom to the Western sea.
She is beloved by all — a mighty land —
The flag of freedom o'er her is unfurled;
And she might hold within her regal hand
The gathered navies of the whole wide world.
Deepen the shadows of the night of fate,
And darkness closes round the Golden Horn:
But radiantly above the Golden Gate
Breaks the -resplendence of a glorious morn.
— From Overland Monthly, December, 1888.
THE SHELL MAN
BY
AMANDA MATHEWS
|IG GEIZZLED "Old
Cap" Yates was
framed by the blue
doorway of his faded
red cabin, one of a
string of similar
weather-worn shacks
standing on piles
above the harbor tides of San Pedro, Cali-
fornia, with their noses resting against
the old Breakwater. The captain was
studying the approach of a strange wo-
man. He reasoned that she could not be
from the town proper of San Pedro across
the channel. Those women came only on
Sundays with their freshly-scrubbed,
clumsy "gentlemen friends." They
laughed a great deal and needed much
assistance over the rocks. The same cou-
ple appeared several times, but on the last
occasion the man stalked ahead with his
companion tagging as best she might.
They never came again, as the going was
too difficult for pleasure and it was no
place to bring a baby.
Xo more did the approaching stranger
appear to be a straggler from one of the
fashionable beaches dotting the shore lines
to the east. There were such occasionally
who flashed their dainty gowns into the
eyes of the Swedish sailors and Italian
fishermen, and who evidently regarded
their coming as a romantic and even some-
what hazardous adventure. If the woman
he was watching had been of this sort,
Captain Yates would have scuttled into
his cabin, banged the door, and even
turned the rusty key, for he had held such
in greater dread than sharks or pirate
craft ever since the day when one of them
had sung out: "What a picturesque old
dear !" and turned her camera for a broad-
side shot.
The perplexing alien was now passing
the cabin, a straight, strong little figure
in a short, shapeless, brown denim gar-
ment, rubber boots, and a tall Mexican
sombrero. She clambered over the rocks
of the Old Breakwater, or walked the
tops of its rotting and uneven piles as un-
concernedly as a boy. Her physical abil-
ity belied the soft gray hair blowing away
from a face brown as the brown algae the
waves toss on to the beach, and lighted by
eyes of deep sea blue.
She flung the captain a blithe good-
morning, evidently saluting him as a part
of the day, which was so gloriously bright
and clear that the very air seemed full of
floating fugitive color radiating frpm the
sea and the row of gaily-painted cabins
hung above it. The old man did not draw
506
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
back into his shell; he even mumbled
some unintelligible response. Conversa-
tionally, his only success was as a solilo-
quist. Otherwise, his words were prison-
ers making a difficult and timorous escape
through his grizzled tangle of beard.
After she had passed, Captain Yates
still lingered in his doorway watching her
further progress down the Old Break-
water. Occasionally she paused to pluck
an unwilling limpit or chilton from the
rocks for the basket on her arm. The
old salt suddenly smote his thigh and
grinned with the exultation of mental
achievement.
"One clam ain't more like the next one
than she be to that old shell-man bunking
in the Gonzales cabin, I'll be durned ef
she ain't," he muttered. "He's a shell man
— she's a shell woman. I never knowed
before they was both kinds, but they is,
and she's the other, or I'll be durned."
Meanwhile, the woman with the basket
followed the noble curves of the Old
Breakwater, unconscious that she had been
scooped up by the Captain's intellectual
net and assigned a place in that museum
of natural curiosities which constituted
the world as he saw it.
She came at last to a cabin of faded
pink, even more weather-racked than the
rest. An old plank half worn through by
a rusty chain was a veritable drawbridge
now resting hospitably on the pile top
highway, but evidently arranged to be
withdrawn at will. An elderly .man was
reading in an old armchair on the rough
board platform, which stood for front
yard and back yard, also in Breakwater
holdings. He bent a fine scholarly face
over the pages; his shoulders had a schol-
arly stoop, his hands were thin and schol-
arly. A long black ministerial coat as-
sorted oddly with coarse blue jeans wet
to the knees.
Involuntarily, the shell woman paused
just as the shell man glanced up from his
book. They eyed each other as two sand-
pipers might, meeting among a flock of
sea gulls. After all, companionship is
limited to species. The shell man's gaze
focused on the shell woman's basket, while
her glance slipped downward to the litter
of drying starfishes and crustaceans. Even
certain odors attendant upon the expiring
of sea-life in the hateful sun fell upon
her nostrils not ungratefully — so closely
are sense impressions bound up with
familiarity and habit.
"You are collecting?" he inquired,
courteously.
"Yes. Is there much of interest about
here ?"
"It's one of the richest fields on the
coast. I would be delighted to show you
my shells," he added, eagerly. No collec-
tion is complete and satisfying without an
occasional intelligently sympathetic visi-
tor, and his had known no such complete-
ness for many moons.
The tiny cabin had specimens every-
where. The cot was littered with sea ur-
chins. There was no other furniture ex-
cept the cabinets and a box where a
microscope chummed with a coal-oil stove.
A few unwashed dishes and mussy rem-
mants of eatables were grouped about a
live abalone, whose huge, yellow, padlike
foot was squirming vainly for a grasping
place.
Even the shell woman, although her
own housekeeping was somewhat primitive
if measured by metropolitan standards,
felt some vicarious embarrassment.
The shell man, however, seemed totally
unconscious of anything unusual about
his domestic plant.
"See that fellow," genially indicating
the abalone ; "he reminds me of the people
old Mandeville told about with only one
foot, and that so large it shade th all the
body as they lie on their backs."
She smiled appreciatively, and they
were immediately deep in conchology for
an hour or more. It was only as the shell
woman lingered with one boot on the
drawbridge that the talk grew personal.
Their mutual apologetic sense of the triv-
iality of words strung on other than con-
chological thread saved them from any
diffidence regarding premature confi-
dences.
"My college wanted a younger man in
my place ; that was right and natural," he
sighed. "I hold a commission from the
Smithsonian. It's little enough — only
twenty-five a month."
"But it's steady," answered the other a
bit wistfully. "I never earn more than
that gathering shells for the curio stores
in Los Angeles, and usually not so much."
There was a long pause, while both
THE SHELL MAN.
507
watched some white sails just slipping
over the horizon.
"I taught biology in a girls' boarding
school," she continued, "but the girls
squealed and took on so over the specimens
that the subject was dropped out of the
course."
The old shell man came to the edge of
the platform, and together they looked
down into a rocky pool left by the tide, a
bit of marine garden where sea-anemones
lazily waved their pale green ocean petals.
Others above the water line hung limp
and closed, ugly gray sacs, inertly awaiting
the reviving sea.
"Behold our symbol !" exclaimed the
old shell man eagerly. "Back in the world
we would be like those poor creatures plas-
tered to the rocks, while here our souls are
in their element and expand like those
others in the pool below."
It is a well-known law of the Old
Breakwater that whatever goes out must
come back, for it ends at an absurd little
cocked hat of an island out in the bay.
Captain Yates, mending his brown nets in
the sun, held long conversations with him-
self as he watched for the return of the
shell woman.
He saw her at last, traveling more slow-
ly now, and often pausing before her little
foot reached out for the rock ahead. She
merely nodded to him absent-mindedly in
passing, though she quickened her gait a
little as if half conscious of being ob-
served.
"I'll be durned ef she ain't got some-
thing on her mind," he soliloquized,
shrewdly. " 'Twarn't there when she
went by before, neither. She must a'
picked it up between here and Dead
Man's Island. 'Tain't nothin' what
worrits her ef I can read the weather,
more like a happy surprise. Durn me ef
I ain't glad of that ! Now, why am I glad ?
She ain't nothin' to me nor I to her. This
world is too much for you, Captain Yates.
I'll be durned ef I don't think you might
as well give up guessin' at it."
Six weeks later the shell man and shell
woman were rowing in and out among the
patches of reeds in the marshes between
San Pedro and Wilmington. The quiet
waters gave back the hills black against
the water's edge, but still naming on their
summits with the fading beacon fires of a
dull orange after-glow.
All the afternoon they had been study-
ing the coloring of the slender screw-
like shells of certain snails existing tran-
quilly among the marsh weeds. The shell
man had a theory in regard to the causes
of color variation which he wished to bul-
wark with facts against a different theory
advanced by a fellow Smithsonian.
"We have now sufficient data to begin
work on the monograph."
The shell woman smiled happily with-
out lifting her eyes from a muddy hand-
ful of the brown and purple shells. The
naturalist's remark could hardly be classi-
fied as romantic, and yet it caused his
companion a delicious thrill.
Fortunate those to whom the pronouns
are merely useful parts of speech, care-
lessly employed and lightly dismissed as
the occasion rings them in and out. Their
real significance is a grammatical subtlety
only mastered by certain lonely ones like
the shell woman, when they find the world
divided into one small forlorn I, a few
indifferent yous, and a great uncaring
they.
The shell man had said "we" with the
greatest consistency from the first morn-
ing when they had stood together looking
down at the sea-anemones to his last
speech of the moment before. Each "we"
was a link in a golden chain, binding the
shell woman round and round; the end
of the chain lay in the shell man's hand.
His eyes were resting upon his captive
with a content which included the old
sombrero pushed back from her comely
brown face, the muddy little hands, and
even the dripping rubber boots. He was
not lacking in sentiment, nor had litera-
ture failed to equip him with suitable
precedents. It was rather his innate, im-
aginative sense of artistic unity that
shaped the manner of his proposal.
"Your cabinet is stronger than mine in
chitons, but I have more bivalves. They
supplement each other very well."
"Yes," she assented, absently dabbling
the shells over the side of the boat.
"If we were to marry and put them to-
gether, there wouldn't be a collection like
it west of the Eocky Mountains," he ven-
tured breathlessly.
The shell woman gave such a start that
508
OVEELAND MONTHLY.
the snails were lost overboard, while the
blood surged into her face beneath the
tan.
"Nonsense," she retorted sharply; "I
don't want to marry a collection of shells !
You have spoiled our good times ! We
might as well go home."
No more was said as they rowed down
the channel, gliding under the black
boughs of the lumber vessels at the
wharves. They parted with a curt good-
night.
No woman will feel the least surprise
that the shellman's suit was summarily re-
jected. He had sinned against every ar-
ticle in the feminine code. He had fallen
down on Article I, which states that every
offer of marriage must be accompanied by
a declaration of love; on Article II, pro-
viding that said offer shall be tendered at
a time when the lady feels herself becom-
ingly attired, and on Article III, which is
impossible of execution in a tipsy row-
boat suspended in a foot of tide water over
a mud flat.
There was something pathetically fine
in this forlorn little old shell woman in
draggled brown denim, this uncounted, in-
significant atom of womanhood, standing
on the code to the last letter and dot,
though it cost her the desire of her heart.
She put in a lonely fortnight collecting
down the other way toward White's Point.
Ordinarily there is nothing in nature more
dumb than a sea-anemone, but now they
waved their pale green tentacles at her
and called out "we" in a gentle, scholarly
voice, with a minor cadence on the vowel,
until she sometimes put up her hand to
shut it out.
She came home from her work earlier
than usual one day, and instead of ex-
changing her wet beach garments for a sen-
sible brown flannel wrapper, she shook out
the wrinkled folds of a sea-blue cashmere
which matched her eyes. It had been her
best gown when she taught biology in the
boarding school. She made no excuse to
herself for donning it, nor for adding some
creamy lace at the throat and wrists.
A knock startled her. She opened the
door on Captain Yates. He ducked gal-
lantly and dragged off his cap.
"I come — to tell you " each word
stumbled through his beard with diffident
haste, "to tell .you the old shell man — — "
"I presume you mean Professor Ander-
son," she interrupted, with dignity.
"Yes, ma'am. I'll be durned ef I don't
reckon we're talking about the same chap
— leastwise I am."
"What about Professor Anderson?"
Captain Yates's head wagged solemnly,
as if it were wound up and could not
stop.
"He ain't dead— yet."
The woman turned as ghastly as the tan
would allow.
"I hailed the doctor when he went by.
Then I says to me — that is, Cap. Yates,
I'll be durned, Cap. Yates, ef you hadn't
orter tell the old shell woman — Here
he fairly choked with embarrassment at
this worse slip of his unruly tongue.
She did not even notice it.
"What is the matter?" she gasped.
"Pneumony."
"I know," she quavered. "He would
not buy himself new rubber boots because
he was always wanting books."
She squared herself bravely. "You
rowed over, didn't you ?"
"Yes. ma'am. I'm anchored at the foot
of the bluff."
"Wait till I get a few things into a
basket and take me back with you."
The shell man lay in feverish uncon-
sciousness breathing all too lightly.
Warmth, comfort, order and care entered
the dreary little cabin with the shell wo-
man. He had missed these things sadly
during the early days of his illness, but
now he no longer felt their lack.
Night brought a sudden storm, the sea
roared hoarsely, the waves dashed over the
Old Breakwater, rain and spray were flung
together against the cabin panes; above
the roof, the gulls beat the wind with
their strong wings and shrieked exult-
ingly.
The shell man muttered unintelligible
words and tossed his arms about. His soul
struggled to be free, to be out with the
gulls and ride the storm. All night the
shell woman knelt by the bed and would
not let it go.
Morning broke at last clear and bright;
the sun poured through the drop-gemmed
window. The man on the bed opened his
eves.
CALIFOKNIA.
500
"Mary !" he whispered in feeble ecstacy.
"You here?"
"Yes, dear shellman," she answered
brightly. She perceived that his soul no
longer desired to fare forth, but had
folded its wings, content with the cozy
cabin full of her presence and morning
sunshine.
"That day in the marshes — I didn't
mean — it wasn't really the shells," he
muttered weakly, with pauses for breath.
The shell woman bent over him until
her cheek brushed his hair.
"I'll marry a collection of shells, just
so they are your shells/' she laughed
blithely.
She had learned during the night that
love is a law unto itself above all codes.
CALIFORNIA
0 peerless land, begirt with peerless blue!
Loyal for aye unto thy gracious clime
Shall bide the heart that erst hath journeyed thro'
Thy healing solitudes, thy heights sublime !
Again I breathe the spirit of thy wildes —
Away with haunting care and all life's ills !
With eager foot, and heart e'en as a child's,
I greet the sylvan outposts of thy hills.
'Kin to the exultant wing that cleaves thine air
As on some eminence I pause to view,
Beyond the sheen of silent waters fair,
Thy serried mountains, banked against the blue.
Somewhere, I ween, far in thy canyons deep,
The "Fount of Youth" still bubbles, clear and strong-
Fare forth, 0 world-worn heart, thy faith still keep,
The glorious search itself will life prolong!
HOW THE RECLAMATION SERVICE
IS ROBBING THE SETTLER
BY L. M. HOLT
Mr. Holt's article, which presents the cause
of a great number of farmers who have settled
upon the public domain, is here published with
the sincere hope that the faults of the Reclama-
tion Service, which are faults of management,
rather than purpose, may be amended and jus-
tice done to the pioneer settlers. The title of
this article is our own. No more beneficent law
has ever been planned than the Irrigation Law.
(EDITOR OVERLAND MONTHLY.)
JUNE, 1902, Con-
gress passed a law
providing for the re-
clamation of the arid
public domain, and
there was organized a
Governmental depart-
ment known as the
Eeclamation Service, to administer the
law.
Prior to that time, citizens of the
United States could secure tracts of the
public domain under the Homestead Law
and also under the Desert Land Law.
These laws were neither repealed nor
amended by the Eeclamation Act.
Prior to that time, there were in exist-
ence State and territorial laws under
which citizens could secure title to the use
of water from streams that could be ap-
propriated, diverted and used for a bene-
ficial purpose in reclaiming the lands
taken under the existing United States
laws.
It required capital to construct irriga-
tion systems, and the public sentiment
gradually crystallized into the idea that
such irrigation systems should be of a
mutual character, and that they should
be owned as largely as practical by the
men who owned the lands to be irrigated
in proportion to the irrigable area of each
settler.
During the past half century, large
areas of desert land have been reclaimed
from their aridity, and have been made to
"blossom with the homes of men."
Millions of money were invested in
these irrigation systems under the then
existing laws. Property rights were cre-
ated that the Government is bound to re-
spect. Hundreds of thousands of men se-
cured homes for their families on the pub-
lic domain under these irrigation systems,
and millions of wealth were created out of
practically worthless material — for the
arid land was worthless without water,
and the water wasting into the sea was
worthless until applied to the land.
This was the condition of affairs when
the Eeclamation Service commenced work
in 1902.
The officials in charge of that service
found that there were not many places
where they could construct irrigation sys-
tems without interfering with vested
rights; but instead of settling in a good
and equitable manner with those holding
such rights, they went to work deliber-
ately to destroy them.
An irrigation system was in the way.
They found that such system was not so
gilt-edged as it might be. That the -Gov-
ernment, with its unlimited resources,
could construct a better system. Therefore,
the men who had invested their all in a
system that was turning the desert into a
garden, establishing homes for the home-
less, and creating wealth must submit to
be robbed and lose their all simply be-
cause the Government could build a better
system than they had been able to build
with their limited capital.
In some instances they declared that the
pioneer irrigation companies were taking
water from a navigable stream that was
not subject to the appropriation laws of
the State or territory in which the system
was built, and therefore the settlers under
such system had no water right, and
therefore the company was charging the
settlers for water for which they had no
title.
To make the matter still worse, they
HOW THE RECLAMATION SERVICE IS ROBBING THE SETTLER.
513
would tell the settler that he had no right
to the use of the water that had reclaimed
his homestead, but that if he would desert
the old company that had spent the money
to make his home inhabitable and sign
up with the Reclamation Service, they
could get a good title to the water that
would be furnished them from the same
stream under an appropriation under the
same law, and then they would go to work
and build a dam across .that navigable
stream that would absolutely destroy its
navigability.
And they label that act "JUSTICE."
Such work as this is not done in ac-
cordance with the provisions of the Re-
clamation Act, but in violation of it; for
that law provides :
i
"Section 8. That nothing in this act
shall be construed as affecting or intended
to affect or in any way interfere with the
laws of any State or territory relating to
the control, appropriation, use or distribu-
tion of water used in irrigation, or any
vested right acquired thereunder, and the
Secretary of the Interior, in carrying out
the provisions of this act, shall proceed in
conformity with such laws, and nothing
herein shall in any way affect any right of
any State or of the Federal Government
or of any land owner, appropriator or user
of water in, to or from any interstate
stream or the waters thereof. Provided:
That the right to the use of water ac-
quired under the provisions of this act
shall be appurtenant to the land irrigated,
and beneficial use shall be the .basis, the
measure, and the limit of the right."-
As an illustration of the situation in the
•Imperial Valley: The California Develop-
ment Company filed on water of the Colo-
rado river and built a canal system to irri-
gate 500,000 acres of worthless desert.
The company delivered water to the des-
ert, and settlers went in and took up 230,-
000 acres of land under the Desert Land
law, put half of it under cultivation, and
founded a successful settlement of 10,000
population, with property valued at $25,-
000,000, where in 1899 there was nothing
but desert.
The Reclamation Service officials came
along and desired to build a larger and
better system. They declared that the
settlers had no right to the waters of the
Colorado river because it was a navigable
stream. They stated that if the settlers
would abandon the so-called water right
from the California Development Com-
pany and sign up with the Reclamation
Service, they could get a good" water right
from a better system, but in so doing they
would have to lose what they had paid for
stock in the mutual water companies, and
come under the Reclamation Service rules
of living on the land and cutting down
their holdings to 160 acres each.
The Reclamation Service proposed to
file on the waters of the same navigable
stream to get a supply for the Imperial
Valley, and then proposed to build a dam
across that navigable stream, thus de-
stroying its navigability.
The settlers referred the case to Hon.
S. C. Smith, Congressman from the
Eighth California District, who investi-
gated matters and answered the settlers in
a letter from which the following extracts
are taken:
"A new system of canals will be built
and Laguna Dam will be a part of it. The
cost will be $8,000,000, and possibly twice
that."
"Payments heretofore made for water
rights will not be credited on the cost of
the new system."
"Desert entrymen will not get water-
rights for more than 160 acres each."
"Non-resident land owners will not get
water rights at all."
"Probably no patents will be issued till
the new works are completed."
"No priority in the use of water is rec-
ognized. It is quite clear that if the pres-
ent system is cast aside and the appropri-
ation of water is not utilized, the water
rights which the farmers thought they
owned will vanish. The first point to be
decided by the land owners is whether
or not they want to lose what they have
spent for water rights and canals, and
start all over again and pay for a new and
very expensive system."
This is the way they started in to rob
the settlers and bankrupt the company
that had made the reclamation of the des-
ert possible.
Here is a powerful organization, backed
by the Government, with its millions of
coin, -destroying property rights and bank-
512
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
rupting settlers in order that they might
build up a new irrigation system with a
new crop of settlers in order that they
might satisfy the inordinate ambition of
the officials to create something great, even
though the country be strewn with the
wrecks of the pauperized families and
bankrupted irrigation companies that have
a right to the protection of the Govern-
ment they are taxed to support.
Another phase of the question is found
in the Owens Eiver Valley,, where the Ee-
clamation Service worked with the settlers
to get all the rights obtainable, with a view
to developing the natural resources of
the valley and establishing therein an im-
mense population that would bring wealth
and prosperity to all, only to turn those
rights over to other parties to be taken
out of the valley, making the last con-
dition of that valley worse than the first.
* * * *
Settlers in various localities, finding
that their rights were being trampled
under foot, and that they could get no
redress through Eeelamation Service offi-
cials, finally concluded to appeal to Con-
gress. In order to inaugurate such a
movement by uniting in one move all who
had similar grievances, the Yuma County
Consolidated Water Users Association, on
the 15th of June last, issued a call for an
Irrigation Convention, to meet in Sacra-
mento, California, on Saturday, August
31st, two days before the meeting of the
Fifteenth Session of the National Irriga-
tion Congress, in order to consider these
complaints and formulate a plan of pro-
cedure, and effect an organization to carry
out such plans.
The Convention met as per call at the
Golden Eagle Hotel in Sacramento, and
there were present delegations from the
Yuma Valley, from Imperial Valley and
from Owens Valley, with delegates from
other portions of California, Washington,
Nevada, and other States.
Indictments against the Eeclamation
Service officials were presented in com-
pact form, forcibly stated, from the Yuma
settlers, the Imperial Valley Settlers, and
the Owens Valley delegation. These were
discussed at length, and finally the fol-
lowing preamble and resolutions were
unanimously adopted and a committee
was appointed to present them to the Com-
mittee on Eesolutions of the Irrigation
Congress for indorsement. They were
presented, and that Committee tabled
them, just as was expected.
"We desire to express our sincere appre-
ciation of the Eeclamation Act of 1903, its
splendid promises for the great AVest and
our abiding confidence in the wisdom, in-
tegrity and capacity of our Government,
touching all rights and wrongs of its citi-
zens, and
WHEREAS, Numerous complaints and
charges have been made against the Re-
clamation Service in various sections of
the country, some of which are most grave
and serious, and,
WHEREAS, The ordinary means of re-
dress have been tried by the complainants,
without securing relief, and issues are
arising for the trial and determination of
which there seems to be no tribunal, NOW
THEREFORE,
RESOLVED: 1. That the best inter-
ests of the service, the standing and repu-
tation of the Government officials con-
cerned, and the welfare of the settlers who
bear the hopes and burdens of pioneers in
the struggle to conquer the desert, demand
a thorough, impartial investigation of
said charges.
RESOLVED: 2. That we petition the
Congress of the United States to make an
official investigation of the complaints and
charges aforesaid, by commissions or com-
mittees who shall be independent, impar-
tial and in no way affiliated or connected
with the Interior or any other Department
of the Government."
The Convention and the settlers were
satisfied because they had accomplished
their main point of getting their forces in
line for united action.
The convention then proceeded to or-
ganize the Settlers' Irrigation Protective
Association, elect their officers, appoint
their committees to work in the various
sections affected by the work of the Re-
clamation Service officials, and prepare
the plans and secure the funds for present-
ing their claims to Congress at Washing-
ton next winter.
All they ask is an honest investigation
in order that past evils may be reme-
died and plans for the future work be
adopted that will properly protect all set-
tlers and property rights.
MY MYSTERIOUS PATIENT
BY
BETTY PARKER SMITH
T WAS the first day of
September. Five
months had passed
since I had settled in
V , La., and as
my first professional
act, had tacked up at
the entrance of a lit-
tle room over the village postToffice my
shingle, which read: "John Windsor,
M. D."
Each morning T arose expecting this
day would prove my lucky one. Each
evening I retired hoping to be aroused
from my peaceful slumbers by a summons
for my services. But days and nights
numbering over a hundred came and
passed, but with them not one patient. I
fully anticipated that the Fourth of July,
the glorious day when "Young America"
rejoices and celebrates, would bring me
a few powder-burnt faces and unfortu-
nately used fingers to care for. But no.
The young folks of that locality were a
careful, sturdy set of youngsters.
On this particular night I was guiltv
of having "the blues," for my unfortu-
nate, miserable condition seemed to have
just fully dawned upon me. To think
that I, the son of the late Colonel John
Windsor of the Bluegrass State should
have a three months' board and lodging
bill staring me in the face. Already the
kind-faced landlady looked at me over her
gold-rimmed spectacles with a sad air of
distrust.. Why shouldn't she? I knew
she needed the money, but I was utterly
helpless. My lately unused pocket-book
did not even hold the price of one cold
mint julep, and I, a Kentuckian, too. I
was indeed desperate. I well knew any
of the fellows in my "frat" would be glad
to help me out, but my pride rebelled and
kept me from calling on them.
My gloomy thoughts were in accord
with the weather. All day a drizzling
rain fell, and with the dusk came a howl-
ing, chilling wind. A sharp wind, which
blew the unceasing rain-drops fiercely
against the panes of my narrow office win-
dows, and fairly shook the rickety old
building in its intensity.
I went over and lighted the sooty kero-
sene lamp, and after filling my cob pipe,
began reading "The County Banner," by
its uneven flickering light. Oh, the edi-
tor of the budget of news ! Between each
paragraph I wondered how well-meaning,
God-fearing, law-abiding citizens could
let a man promulgate such a publication
and live. It was more than I was capable
of understanding. This uncharitable
train of thoughts was soon broken by
footsteps coming slowly and heavily up
the creaking dark stairs. Then there was
a heavy knock at my door.
"Come!" 1 exclaimed.
"Is the doctor in, and alone?" asked a
deep, masculine voice.
"Both! Come in!" I replied.
The door opened, and over the thresh-
old a man, masked, stepped quickly. His
appearance indicated the intention of a
complete disguise. His features were en-
tirely hidden, but through the mask a
pair of searching, cold, gray eyes peered,
and remained steadily fixed upon me.
"Doctor, I have come to ask you to go
with me to attend a gentleman who is
badly in need of medical aid."
"Very well. That is my business," T
answered, as though I had patients by the
score.
"There are conditions, however, in the
employment. At a certain bend in the
road we take, T am to blindfold you and
lead you to your patient, who shall be
unknown to you. Further, no questions
514
OVEELAND MONTHLY.
are to be asked. You shall be amply
paid for your services. My horses are be-
low. Do you consent?" he jerked out in
rapid phrases.
Words fail to convey my thoughts and
feelings when the strange man had fin-
ished making his unusual proposal. Be-
wilderment, followed by a sensation akin
to anger, arose in my half-dazed mind.
To think that he, this stranger, should
dare to suggest blind-folding me — that
he would refuse to answer my questions.
There was mystery here, and I had always
associated mystery with crime. No, [
would not go, and I was about to say so,
but his words "amply paid" rang in my
mind. Any poor devil in my condition
would have grasped at those two words,
and so did I. This mysterious journey
might mean danger and even death per-
haps. But I could not be much worse off
than I now was, and if I ever returned, I
could pay off my debts, pack my carpet-
bag, and journey to a less healthful cli-
mate, where patients were more numer-
ous.
"I will go," I cried. "When do we
start ?"
"Immediately," answered the stranger;
"there's not a moment to lose."
I hastily caught up my medicine case,
which, long ago filled for an emergency
call, was ready at hand, and followed him
down to the street, where two saddled
horses awaited. I was given the larger
and we started off at a mad gallop.
Already the village streets were de-
serted, and we passed on into the out-
skirts. The rain and wind blew in our
faces, and the rapid gait we were going
made conversation, except in monosylla-
bles, impossible.
We had been riding for about an hour,
when suddenly, at a bend in the road, my
guide stopped, and jumping from his
horse, said : "Doctor, I will blind-fold you
now."
"Be kind enough to use my handker-
chief," I said, beginning to feel a trifle
uneasy.
"Certainly," he rejoined. Then taking
the reins from me and leading my horse,
we rode on in silence, traveling a road ut-
terly unknown to me. It was so dark I
did not know whether we were going
north, south, east or west. Indeed, the
blind-fold was an unnecessary precaution.
Presently the crumbling of leaves un-
der the horses' hoofs, the swish of a wet
branch now and then across my face, the
zig-zag course I was led, told me we had
left the main road and were riding
through a wood. Then the splash of
water would tell that we were crossing or
perhaps wading up or down a stream.
Now the hoofs of the horses would tat-too
over a bridge. But whilst I was totally
ignorant of my whereabouts, my compan-
ion seemed to know well every twist and
turn of the route. Upon his part there
was no hesitation. He plunged forward
with a confidence in striking contrast to
the doubt and fear that beset me.
On and on we rode. I began to wish
that I had not agreed to this little game
of blind-fold. As we plunged madly on,
again and again I wished myself back
safe and sound in my little dusty office.
At last we came to a stop.
"Your patient is here, doctor. I will
help you dismount," and he led the way
up steps and across a wide gallery into
the house.
Then he removed the blind-fold from
my eyes and directed me to an adjoining
room. To my astonishment, I beheld an
apartment the furnishings of which were
artistic in every detail. On a low bam-
boo cot a man of medium size reclined,
evidently in great pain. A handkerchief
hid his face. His 'finely shaped head was
covered with a heavy shock of snowy hair,
which seemed to me the whitest hair I
had ever seen. I also noted one limb was
much shorter than the other. The thought
came to me that it might have wasted
away.
My patient in a few words told me
that while riding he was thrown from his
horse and had broken his arm, and he de-
sired me to set it. I was struck by his
voice. It was soft, low and musical as
the tones of a flute. He spoke but this
once, and yet I was awed by the conclu-
sion that I was in the presence of a
notable person. There is something even
to the blind, deaf and dumb to denote
the presence of a strong personality, even
though no word is uttered. And so I felt
in the presence of the man reclining there.
I did not allow my excited imagination
to prevent me from thoroughly perform-
MY MYSTEEIOUS PATIENT.
515
ing my surgical duty. I found upon
diagnosing the injury that my patient
had a simple fracture of the radius, which
I proceeded to set, splint and bandage,
and then made a sling for his arm. While
the injury was very painful, it was not
of a serious nature, and my task was soon
completed. My patient, who was as silent
as though dumb during the operation,
motioned me to a chair when I had fin-
ished, and I sat down near an open win-
dow to await the return of my guide.
The house must have been surrounded
by Nature's most beautiful flowers, as the
midnight air was perfumed by their in-
toxicating odors. The scent of the mag-
nolia, the jassamine and honey-suckle
commingled in ri&tous profusion.
Presently my guide returned, and in-
vited me to partake of a light luncheon
before we started on our ride. I thanked
him kindly, but refused, as I recalled my
compact to "ask no questions" and I did
not want my curiosity further aroused
without the hope of satisfaction, and I
wanted to be away from the atmosphere
of mystery which oppressed me.
After giving a few necessary directions
regarding the care of the patient, I bade
him a speedy recovery and good-night. I
was again blind-folded, led to the horses,
and then we departed.
The jourae}' homeward was over a dif-
ferent route, and was even more tiresome
than the coming. There were several
steep hills to climb, and we had to dis-
mount in order for the horses to ascend.
Tt was no easy task for the guide to lead
two horses and a blind-folded doctor, so
we proceeded very slowly.
Again we were on level ground, and to
break the monotony, I inquired the time.
"It is now half-past one. We shall
reach your office at half-past two," re-
marked the guide calculatingly.
Another hour. But to me it would seem
a week. Not being accustomed to horse-
back riding, the trip had fatigued me
greatly.
I was sore in every limb, wet through to
the skin, cold and bedraggled. I was so
weak at times I thought I would drop
from the saddle.
At last we reached my office.
"My friend, you have served me well,
and I will pay you well. I had intended
locking this door on leaving, but I think
you are a gentleman, and I may add, in
no part a coward. We are just one min-
ute ahead of time. It is twenty-nine min-
utes past two. Wait until that clock on
the mantle strikes three; then remove the
handkerchief from your eyes. Your fee I
leave here on your table." Then I heard
the clink of gold and the scratching of a
pen as he wrote something.
"Good-night to you — and good-bye for-
ever," he exclaimed.
The door slammed; he ran down the
steps, and leaping on his horse, clattered
down the street as if mad.
I wiped the beads of cold perspiration
which had gathered on my forehead. The
sounds of the horses' hoofs became fainter
and fainter and then died away. What an
adventure ! To know where I had been I
would have given the world had I pos-
sessed it. To know who my patient was
would then be easy to discover. But I did
not know a mile of the many miles of
the long journey. How I should like to
have lifted the handkerchief and have
seen my patient's face.
One! Two! Three! My clock at last
struck the hour.
Quickly I jerked the blindfold from my
eyes. With trembling hands I sought my
well-earned fee. A leather bag lay be-
fore me, and on emptying the contents —
five hundred dollars in bright gold coins
rolled onto the desk and floor. In gather-
ing them up, I also picked up a piece of
paper, a fly-leaf, on which was written in
a bold hand.
"If you could but retrace your steps to-
night, Uncle Sam would pay you well.
Your patient is no other than John Wilkes
Booth, Lincoln's assassin, who lives to
die a natural death."
RUEF— A JEW UNDER TORTURE
\
BY Q'
(In all the amazing and wholesome revolt
against municipal corruption that has swept this
country like a whirlwind, there has been no
more startling and titanic struggle than that
which has taken place in San Francisco. The
wildest tales of Gaboriau, Dumas or Victor
Hugo, the cleverest detective stories from the
pen of Conan Doyle, pale in human interest be-
fore the plots and counter plots that have been
skillfully unraveled by the marvelous talent of
Detective William J. Burns. In this article,
"Q" gives us a psychological study of Abraham
Ruef, the former political boss of San Francisco
under the Schmitz regime, and pictures the
methods necessary to extort information from
this most infamous criminal in the history of
municipal corruption. The horrible methods
practiced were, doubtless, justified by unscru-
pulous character of the prisoner. The informa-
tion here given is trustworthy, but it is obvi-
ously impracticable' to reveal either the name
of the author or the sources of his informa-
tion.)— Editors Overland.
THE remote ages,
when Abraham, the
patriarch., migrated
to Canaan, the seed
of heredity was sown
that is reaped in the
beneficent genius of a
Disraeli or in the sins
of an Abraham Ruef. The ghetto was
in existence long before the Christian
era ; the persecution of the Jewry is as old
as the ages. The race which has endured
through the almost innumerable centur-
ies of oppression has become great through
the obstacles it has overcome. N"o other
people possesses more in abundance the
homely and noble virtues than do the
Jews. Jewdom has given the world the
product of its persecutions in great men,
noble statesmen, splendid financiers,
learned doctors, and if, at times, we see in
the Jewish race another product of these
persecutions, the men of low cunning, the
usurer, pawnbroker and many criminals,
the fact that they are Jews is all the more
noticeable because they have applied the
remarkable talents developed by centuries
of adversity to ignoble uses.
In this wonderful people is an element
that frequently renders them incompre-
hensible to the rest of mankind and differ-
ent from them. The Jewish people are
of Asiatic descent, and we find some of
their race peculiarities predominant in
the Asiatic races. It is perhaps this very
strain that has rendered their leaders
among the finest and noblest men in his-
tory, has made this people a healthful
and stable element in our population. The
Jewry has given us the Rothschilds, Dis-
raeli, Offenbach, Mozart, Toby Rosenthal,
Cremieux, Lasker, Zangwill, and the
thousands upon thousands who have made
the world a better place for their fellow-
men because they have lived their span of
life and have benefited mankind by their
works. It cannot be said, however, that
the Gentile understands the Jew any bet-
ter to-day than in the days of Philip the
Fair, when he tried to solve the puzzle by
burning the Jew at the stake or whirling
him on the cruel spikes of the wracking
wheel.
The Jew is a problem of centuries, and
there must be somewhere in his make-up
an element so terribly at variance with the
rest of mankind that throughout count-
less ages he has been accounted an offend-
ing enigma.
Abraham Ruef represents this enigma
in a marked degree. He has been the
banker of thousands, and his usury has
been wrung from an entire community
who have paid unconscious and unwilling
tribute. He is the very quintessence of
self-conceit. He is an abnormally intelli-
gent man, who has solved the problem of
indirect accomplishment. Early in life
he made a study of making his fellowman
do his drudgery, willingly, cheerfully and
unconsciously. He used the system in
school and in college, and graduated as an
"honor" man, but not as a man of honor.
When he made his celebrated confession,
he said that he dated his fall from grace
from the time of Schmitz's first election.
This was not true, but it was said with
the desire of shifting the blame on the
man he had used as a tool. Long before
518
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
this, he had been distrusted, and once he
was hissed at and denounced in a public
hall at a political gathering.
He is a strong man mentally, but ever
and anon the persecution of the ages oozes
out of him, and he cries in fear and shifts.
It is the 'tortured adopting Christianity to
escape the lash. It is the cunning of the
Asiatic asserting itself by fawning and
smiling, by the witty retort and the elo-
quent speech currying favor to parry the
blow. Ruef is sensitive to a degree. Ruef
is vain to a degree. Ruef owes his down-
fall to his over-weaning appetite for
power and pelf.
Nearly seven years ago I saw him pace
the floor of his office and dictate a long
self-eulogy. At that time there was only
a nebulous, unformed, undefined charge
of general unworth floating about against
him, and yet, unaccused, he defended him-
self before an imaginary judge, and to
clinch his argument, gave his auditors the
details of his achievements in college. Fif-
teen minutes after the departure of his
hearers, he was collecting the rental from
a dozen or more miserable little rooms
rented to women of the half-world.
He has the capacity of making loyal
friends. He, by his devilish ingenuity,
has enthralled many weak intellects, and
to-day, from within his prison, he utilizes
an almost hypnotic power over the ser-
vants of other days to work his will and
to continue on a small scale his chicanery
and his tortuous statesmanship.
This man Ruef is the man of the
Nymphia, accused of being in the busi-
ness of importing Japanese and Chinese
women for unspeakable purposes, briber
of Supervisors, petty larcenist of nickel-
in-the-slot machine profits, politician,
candidate for a future U. S. Senatorship
(who pointed to a Guggenheim as his ex-
cuse, as one of his race who had bought
his seat in the Upper House), and candi-
date for the position of chief counsel to
the Southern Pacific Company. The hun-
gry gorging of money and power has been
his downfall. In as brief a manner as
possible, I have given a resume of the
character of a man against whom I was
the first to begin a campaign of publicity.
* * * *
And yet, at this moment, I have a sort
of compassion for him. I can see him in
his torture chamber. Behind the bed
hangs a picture of Scott in a group with
Byron, and other of the world's poets. In
his hand, if you will look close, you will
note the title of the book, "Half a Rogue."
The irony of it !
It is not an autobiography but a popu-
lar novel of the day. Beside the fallen
boss sits the elisor appointed by the court.
The elisor is a gloomy companion. The
battle does not rage in this room. Here
reigns a sepulchral quiet, broken only by
the occasional false mirth of the prisoner.
He is not the impassive Ruef of other
days. He is the apprehensive, beaten Asi-
atic, ready to place his hand on the
Christian bible or the Moslem Koran, to
embrace Christ or Islam to escape the
wrack — Burns.
Hugo Munsterberg, a professor of psy-
chology in Harvard University, has re-
cently given the world a learned treatise
on "The Third Degree," in one of the
popular magazines of the day. The arti-
cle makes very profitable reading, for it is
a description of experimental psychology,
the science of the association of ideas. It
is not my purpose to more than outline
the facts given at length by Mr. Munster-
berg. Suffice it to say, that is now possi-
ble by the aid of delicate electrical appar-
atus to arrive at the guilt or innocence
of accused persons without having re-
course to the brutal devices of the ordi-
nary, every-day detective as practiced on
the every-day criminal, through the third
degree.
By threats, by tortures, by the thumb-
screw and the wrack, by every invention
to terrify the mind, induce a nervous
break-down or a physical repulsion so
great that nature can with-stand no lon-
ger, men have been induced to confess to
crimes. The third degree, as practiced by
the police, is a wearing out process, ac-
companied in many instances by physical
torture.
* * * *
William J. Burns does not indulge in
physical torture. He ha"s developed a
system which is slower and surer. William
J. Burns has the reputation among the
United States Secret Service of being
slow but sure, and of never asking for the
RUEF— A JEW UNDER TORTUKE.
519
arrest of a man until he is not only sure
of his conviction, but of his going to the
penitentiary.
Ruef loves his table comforts. Ruef
likes books and conversation. He is
therefore indulged. He is fed to such an
extent that the gorging and the lack of
exercise induce him to talk in his sleep.
Every word is jotted down. Every time
a word recurs, it is noted. A name is
mentioned, and the patient watcher re-
cords the dreamland whisper. The next
night Burns enters the room to hold com-
munion with his prisoner, to urge him to
confess, to answer the questions suggested
by the words of his dream babblings. Then
he is told that he talked in his sleep. The
next night he does not sleep, but watches
the eyes of his guard and suffers tortures
before tired nature asserts itself and he is
folded to the arms of Morpheus:
Or you may imagine insistent question-
ings, persistent probings, based on isolated
facts, until the brain can struggle no
onger, and gives up its secrets. Ruef has
'ought valiantly against all these artifices
:o probe the dark depths of his duplicity,
mt always he has given up; in the end
onfessing to the one particular question,
rat to no more.
One day he is allowed all kinds of
privileges, a ride to the Park in an au-
tomobile, a visit from his father and
sister and friends. Books, flowers and
:ood to his liking, a guard of his acquaint-
ance who is pleasant. Burns himself is
iheerful; he seems less the Nemesis whose
nightly visits the fallen boss has come to
dread. Burns laughs and jokes. The
augh does not ring exactly true, and the
jokes are heavy, but the change is wel-
come. This demeanor toward the prisoner
continues for a day or two, when sudden-
ly all visitors are denied, flowers are
thrown out of the window, the guard is
changed, there are guards at the doors
and windows, all of them are strangers,
and all are mute and wear threatening
looks. The guards remain in the room
all through the night. Every few minutes
a face appears against the pane from the
outside. There are whisperings and
strange noises, and vigilant, never-closing
eyes watch the nervous prisoner, who does
not sleep. The next day, imagine the en-
trance of William J. Burns, his brow dark-
ened by a frown. He looks on the prisoner
as one would look at a venomous snake
just before crushing it with the heel. Then
the room is filled with invective, with
threat, with charge of treachery and with
curses ! The prisoner cringes, but finally,
after two or three days of this kind of
torture, of food he does not like, of utter
silence and thunder-voiced contempt, he
is ready to confess; and does confess.
They have not given Ruef "the cold
water hose, the flash of blinding light or
the secret blow," but they certainly have
given him in a refined way brutal shocks
to terrify his imagination.
And yet the old spirit of the bravo is
not broken. He still retains some of the
sang froid of his prosperity. As I write
these lines, he is 'defying Burns and Heney
— he refuses to testify, and he is bringing
pressure to bear to force these two and the
District Attorney to place an immunity
contract, ratified by Judge Dunn, in the
hands of Rabbi Nieto. He is not so
broken but that he trafficked with justice
in the hope of cheating San Quentin of
its prey. He has succeeded in forcing
the strongest elements of honest Jewry to
come to his help. And on its knees it
implores the prosecution to stay its hand,
justice to hesitate in its course, Burns to
stop his mental thumb-screws, and let
Ruef escape, that disgrace may not fall on
the elect, on others who are high in the
temple, the counting house and the mar-
ket place.
PUBLISHER'S
The control of Overland Monthly has
passed into new hands.
Beginning with this issue we hope not
only to maintain the present high literary
prestige of the magazine, but to inaugu-
rate improvements
in the policy, vigor,
tone and quality of
Overland Monthly,
and bring it to a
position of greater
power and popular-
ity, not only abroad
but at home. The
new owners and
editors believe that
there is a large
field for a first rate
magazine, which
will reflect the in-
dustrial and liter-
ary life of the west
and the countries
bordering on the
Pacific. The place
of publication for
such a magazine is
certainly San Fran-
cisco, the gateway
of the great com-
mercial highways
to the Pacific Coast,
Alaska, the Orient,
South and Central
America.
The publication
to fill this field, by
similar deduction,
is without question
Overland Monthly. Overland is the one
historic magazine of the Pacific Coast
that has stood the test of time. Founded
almost forty years ago with Bret Harte
as its first editor, and with such leading
contributors as Mark Twain, Noah
Brooks, Joaquin Miller, Ina Coolbrith,
Charles Warren Stoddard, Overland
HAMILTON M. WPilGHT.
Monthly has attained prestige throughout
the world, and this momentum is of in-
calculable value. Overland has introduced
to the public many popular writers, in-
cluding Jack London, Frank Norris, Wnl-
lace Irwin, and
others.
Overland Month-
ly, with its glorious
traditions is dis- j
tinctly a Western J
institution. It is
yours. Treat Over-
land as you should
the staunch friend
it has been to you,
and to this land,
for a period exceed-
ing the average life
time.
The new editor-
in-chief of Over-
land Monthly is .
Mr. Hamilton
Wright, a journalist
whose descriptive
works upon this
and foreign coun-
tries ' enjoy great
popularity. Mr.
Wright is thought-
ful, painstaking,
conscientious. His I
work is brilliant,
accurate, and dis-
plays careful stud)
and a broad, well-
informed mind. He
has been very sue-;
(•••>< fill, and we believe that under his
direction Overland Monthly will rapidly
take its place in circulation and popularity
with the most widely circulated magazines
of the country.
Mr. Wright's syndicate letters of travel
have been published in every city of any
size in the United States, and his name
IN THE REALM OF BOOKLAND.
521
and vigorous, breezy style are known to
millions of readers. He has written upon
industrial topics for the magazines which
devote space to these subjects. Among
he magazines in which Mr. Wright's ar-
icles have appeared are the Eeview of
Reviews, Pearson's, Leslie's, The World's
Work, the World To-day, Scientific
American, System, The Wide World, and
many others. But his efforts have been
chiefly in daily journalism, and there is no
>rominent newspaper in the United States
;o which he has not at one time or other
2ontributed. His recent volume on the
Philippines, published by A. C. McClurg
& Co., of Chicago, has been the subject
)f special editorial comment in the largest
and most influential dailies. We believe
;hat in Mr. Wright we have an editor who
will infuse a wide measure of popular in-
;erest and timeliness into the pages of
)verland Monthly, while sacrificing noth-
ng of the literary style which has won
;he magazine its reputation. Mr. Wright
.8 a young man, with the best part of his
ife before him. His career has only be-
fun, and his best efforts will be put into
Overland.
The "Mortality Statistics" for 1905,
mblished by the Government Printing
)fnce, is an interesting compilation of the
leath rate of the world, showing the most
common causes of death to be epidemic
and respiratory diseases.
The recent Peace Conference at the
Hague will make "Among the World's
Peace-Makers," edited by Hayne Davis,
an interesting book to those who care to
enow about the men who are striving at
;he Hague for universal peace.
The Progressive Publishing Co., New
York Citv.
"Paul of Tarsus" is the title of a novel
by Elizabeth Miller, author of "The
Yoke." The book is a tale of the early
Christians, well told in a powerful, dra-
matic manner. The illustrations are by
Andre Castaigne.
"The House of the Vampire," by George
Sylvester Yiereck, is the story of an au-
thor, The Vampire, who has the strange
faculty of appropriating, through some
psychological influence, which he has cul-
tivated to its extreme, the most desired
traits of other men and leaving them be-
reft. From a writer he drains his plots;
from an artist her ability. Strangely, he
exerts upon his subjects a terrible influ-
ence. The mad house and physical degen-
eration follow the spell. A powerful but
morbid tale, that might have been written
by Oscar Wilde and inspired by Robert
Louis Stevenson. Professor Hugo Mun-
sterberg, Professor of Psychology at Har-
vard, would be interested. (Moffat, Yard
& Company.)
"Yolande of Idle Isle," by Charles Van
Norden, is a "dandy" story, laid pictur-
esquely in the Bermuda. Xothing quite
so delicious has come out since "Narcis-
sus." The setting is epic, the characters
charming, and the interest of the reader
held in every paragraph. (D. Appleton
& Company.)
"Madame de Stael to Benjamin Con-
stant," a series of absorbingly interesting
letters hitherto unpublished. Translated
from the French by Charlotte Harwood.
That the book pulsates with human inter-
est need scarcely be told, and that the work
is polished and informative. (A. P. Put-
nam Sons.)
Wagner's Rheingold, as retold by Oliver
Hnckle, a dramatic poem by Richard Wag-
ner, freely translated into poetic narrative
form, presenting the story of the "Ring"
in the clear, strong manner of the origi-
nal. ^Thomas G. Cromwell & Co.)
"The Bible as Good Reading," by Sena-
tor Albert J. Beveridge. S-trong, interest-
ing, informative, helpful, and not a bit
heavy. It is not a literary analysis of the
Bible, but a powerful and entertaining es-
say, which shows the Bible as the greatest
compilation of human interest matter in
all the world. (Henry Altemus Co.)
"Blue Ocean's Daughter," by Cyrus
Townsend Brady, is simply a thrilling
story of love and adventure on the high-
seas. The plot is laid in 'the time of the
American revolution. (Moffat, Yard &
Company.)
NEW OIL WELLS AT MONTEREY
BY BURTON WALLACE
RINGING oil from be-
neath the earth's sur-
face is no longer an
experiment or specu-
lation, but by long
years of experience in
scientific and practi-
cal work, the oil in-
dustry has been reduced to a manufactur-
ing business the same as the gold-produc-
ing, coal-producing and water-supplying
industries.
So many oil fields have been discovered,
developed and are now giving up a large
daily product that it is only necessary to
apply the proper tests in order. to find and
develop new wells. All the geological
conditions favorable to the production of
oil (so far as drilling is concerned), are
present in the immediate area southeast
of Monterey.
Exhaustive reports covering many years
of investigation have been made by W. T.
Griswold and M. J. Munn, of the United
States Geological Survey, and C. W.
Knox, of Vista Del Key, Monterey
County, California, is now applying the
tests made by the geologists to the terri-
tory in his neighborhood, which has been
proven to have much oil-bearing strata.
A few sentences from the geologists'
statements apply so closely to the region
of Vista Del Key that it is much like re-
writing history when I quote a comparison
with the conditions in the Appalachian
(Pennsylvania) oil fields:
"The rocks from which the oil and gas
of the Appalachian fields are derived are
of sedimentary origin. They are porous
rocks, principally sandstones, embedded
in and underlain by a great thickness of
shale. Below the shale are limestone beds.
Sandstones are numerous; they lie ap-
proximately parallel to one another and
occupy a section in the geologic column of
more than 2,000 feet. The oil-bearing
sandstones vary greatly in composition
and texture. The upper or younger sands
are usually white, some being of uniform
texture, and others containing lens-shaped
bodies of conglomerate in which the sep-
arate pebbles are of considerable size.
The older or lower beds are of brown or
reddish sandstone, and are usually more
uniform in texture.
"In general, the Appalachian oil fields
occupy the bottom and western side of a
large spoon-shaped structural trough.
Each important sandstone bed underlies
many square miles of territory, usually in-
cluding a number of counties. They have
been traced from point to point by means
of the drill, until the limits of the differ-
ent beds are fairly well-known. In some
localities two or more sands produce oil.
Usually, however, the lowest sand is the
most prolific. It often happens that gas
is produced from a number of sands in
one locality.
"The areas which have produced oil
and gas have been of all sizes and shapes,
and the depth of productive wells ranges
from 100 to 4,000 feet. It has been no-
ticed, however, that in many cases the
area of oil production is in the form of a
belt extending for a number of miles and
having but slight width compared to its
length. The direction of these belts of
productive territory is parallel to the prin-
cipal geologic folds of the region.
"The places of accumulation are: (1)
In dry rocks the principal points of ac-
cumulation of oil will be at or near the
bottom of the synclines or at the lower
point of the porous medium, or at any
point where the slope of the rock is not
sufficient to overcome the friction, such as
structural terraces or benches. (2) In
porous rocks completely saturated the ac-
cumulation of both oil and gas will be in
the anticlines or along level portions of
the structure. Where the area of porous
rocks is limited, the accumulation will oc-
cur at the highest point of the porous
medium, and where areas of impervious
rock exist in a generally porous stratum
NEW OIL WELLS AT MONTEREY.
523
the accumulation will take place below
such impervious stop, which is really the
top limit of the porous rock. (3) In por-
ous rocks that are only partly filled with
water the oil accumulates at the upper
limit of the saturated area. This limit
of saturation traces a level line around
the sides of each structural basin, but the
height of this line may vary greatly in ad-
jacent basins and in different sands of
the same basin.
"Partial saturation is the condition
most generally found, in which case ac-
cumulations of oil may occur anywhere
with reference to the geologic structure;
it is most likely, however, to occur upon
terraces or levels, as these places are
favorable to accumulation in both dry
and saturated rocks.
"Under all conditions, the most prob-
able locations for the accumulation of
gas are on the crests of anticlines. Small
folds along the side of a syncline may hold
a supply of gas, or the rocks may be so
dense that gas cannot travel to the anti-
cline, but will remain in volume close to
the oil.
"Practical application of principles
governing the accumulation of oil and its
production by modern methods shows the
importance of a knowledge of all the fac-
tors governing accumulation in any at-
tempt to locate oil territory. These are
the porosity of the reservoir rock, the geo-
logic structure, and the degree of satura-
tion by water. The first can be deter-
mined only by the drill ; the second, under
favorable conditions, can be determined by
careful geologic work on the surface, and
the third by the drilling of a few test
wells. Knowledge of the first and third
factors is absolutely necessary for a cor-
rect interpretation of what is shown by
the map of the surface structure. For in-
stance, in an area where two or more
sands are productive, the map may show
producing wells on the anticlines along
the steep slopes and also in the bottom of
the synclines, the productive area not ap-
pearing in any way to conform to the
DERRICK AND BUILDINGS ON OIL, GROUND, NEAR DEL MONTE HEIGHTS.
C. W. KNOX'S STEAM DRILLER TO BORE 1,000 FEET FOR OIL AT VISTA DEL REY.
structure; but if the top of the water in
each of the sands be taken into considera-
tion it will be seen that the sand produc-
ing oil on top of the anticline is wet, the
one from which the oil is taken in the
trough of the syncline is dry, and the
one producing along the slope is saturated
with water up to a certain level, with
the oil immediately above.
"Various rock formations which appear
at the surface within the Appalachian oil
fields, as well as the underlying strata
that have been pierced by the drill, are of
srilinientary origin — that is, they were
laid down as sediments in a body of water.
The sediments laid down in this body of
water varied according to the conditions
of the sea. These deposits consist of
shales, sandstones, limestones and coals.
Fine soft shale results from the erosion of
a much weathered and deeply disintegrated
land surface. The lime and magnesia of
the soil are washed out and carried to the
sea in solution. Myriads of animals living
in the sea have formed their shells and
bones from the lime and magnesia in sea
water, and on dying, left large deposits oi
these materials, which have been cemented
together, forming limestones. Those lime-
stones which carry marine forms, such as-
shells, were probably laid down in still
water and in smooth, even sheets over
large areas. For this reason they are
probably the best strata to be used as.
geologic markers for the. formations of oil
bearing strata."
Mr. Knox has sunk two or three water
wells in his locality, but the fluid coming
from them is so impregnated with gas and
oil that it is unfit for household purposes.
He has much of the necessary machinery
on the ground for going down further;,
and considering that his wells are less-
than one mile from the great harbor of
Monterey Bay, it is apparently only ;i
question of combining proper manufactur-
ing methods with active business manage-
ment and a moderate' amount of capital,
to develop a new oil field right at tide-
water.
Please Mention Overland Monthly in Writing Advertisers.
ix
OF ALL SCENTED SOAPS PEARS' OTTO OF ROSE IS THE BEST.
" All rights secured."
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
AN INSTRUMENT THAT IMPROVES
AND STRENGTHENS
EYESIGHT
Spectacles May Be Abandoned
This Instrument, which the inventor has pat-
ented, is called "Actina" — a trade-mark word.
In the treatment of eye diseases the inventor
of "Actina" claims that there is no need for
cutting or drugging the eye in treating most
forms of disease. Cata-
racts and other abnormal
growths have been
removed, and weakened
vision improved or re-
stored by this new and
more humane method.
"Actina" has been tested
in thousands of cases and
has effected marvelous re-
sults, many people testifying that it saved their
eyesight. So confident are the owners that this
device is an instrument of great merit, that
they will give absolutely a free trial. They want
every one interested to make a thorough inves-
tigation and a personal test of "Actina." One
will be sent on trial, postpaid, so that any per-
son can give it a test.
They issue a book — a Treatise on Disease —
which tells all about "Actina," the diseases it
will remove, what others think of it, what mar-
velous results it has effected, and all about the
responsibility of its owners — all will be sent ab-
solutely free upon request. This book should be
in the home of every family. Address Actina
Appliance Co., Dept. 68 R., 811 Walnut street,
Kansas City, Mo.
HAS stood absolutely and
unquestionably supreme
in its field for 121 years --because
the most trustworthy and highest grade
brewing in the world- -ALL THE TIME.
Evans
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ide
I IT
IS to-day what it has always been--
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no expense will ever be spared to keep it
so. It will never have to fear any
legitimate competition because MERIT is
the foundation of its success.
Hotels, Restaurants, Clubs, Saloons, Oyster Houses and Deal
C. H. EVANS & SONS, Established 1 786
Brewery and Bottling Works,
Hudson, New York
HOTEL CUMBERLAND
NEW YORK
S. W. Cor. Broadway at 54th Street
:.;:." '
IDEAL LOCATION.
NEAR THEATRES,
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RK
g^^r* 'J||;
a.£*J New>
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aid
Absolutely
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and accessible to
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outside rooms.
Special rates for
summer months.
SEND FOR BOOKLET
U»<« th« management of HARRY P. STIMSON, formerly with
Hotel Imperial. New York; R. J. BINQHAM, formerly with Hotel
Woodward.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
Lea & Perrins'
Sauce
xi
A perfect relish for
many dishes and
an excellent .
digestive.
THE ORIGINAL WORCESTERSHIRE
Look for Lea & Perrins' signature
Soups, Fish, Roasts
of all kinds, Gravies,
Salads and Cheese
are rendered p a r -
ticularly enjoyable
by its use.
John Duncan's Sons, Agents, New York
JAMESTOWN EXPOSITION
PINE BEACH HOTEL
On the waters of the historic Hampton Roads. Adjoining the Exposition Grounds and entrance.
PINE BEACH, VA.
No shell— but an up-to-date resort, and prepared to accommodate first-class patronage almost without limit throughout the
Exposition season.
STEAM HEAT
EVERY ROOM AN I/I
OUTSIDE ONE ,
COOL IN SUMMER AND
WARM IN WINTER
ELECTRIC LIGHTS
,GMP
HHM* BATHING. FISHING.
ORCHESTRA. TENNIS
4f POOL, BILLIARDS
American and European Plan. Ten acres of lawn. 2500 feet of board walk, along water. The Atlantic Ocean affords the
guests here the most healthful combination known to science. Steamers and railroads to Noifolk, Va. Thirty minutes by trolley
or boats.
Send for Booklet,
DAVID LAUBER
Also Manager TAMPA BAT HOTEL
Pine Beach, Va.
BEST PLACE TO STOP WHILEAT EXPOSITION
xii
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
School and College Directory
THE YOUNG MAN
who seeks to better himself in this modern
day must attend a school that is modern and
practical. Nowhere on the coast can he find
better opportunities to improve himself along
up-to-date lines, in ways that will fit him to
make something of himself, than at
SACRED HEART COLLEGE
This is the most popular college of the
West. Its departments include Collegiate,
Commercial, Academic, Grammar and Pre-
paratory. Its
EVENING SCHOOL
offers courses in mechanical and architect-
ural drawing, and all branches of commer-
cial study. Here you can secure instruction
that is thorough and practical; the kind of
education you need.
Address:
BROTHER LEWIS, F. S. C., President.
Fell Street, near Fillmore.
Irving Institute and California Conservatory of Music
2126-2128 California Street, San Francisco
Boarding and Day School for Girls
Mus'c, Languages, Art, and Elocution . Accredited by Univer-
•itiei. The new term begins Monday, August 5.
MISS ELLA M. PINKHAM, Principal.
California Conservatory of Music. Send for
Catalogue.
HERMANN GENSS, Director.
THE HAMLIN SCHOOL AND VAN NESS SEMINARY
2230 Pacific Ave.
For particulars address
cTWISS SARAH D. HAMLIN
2230 Pacific cA venue,
San Francisco Telephone West 546
The Fall term will open August 12, 1907.
What, School?
WE CAN HELP YOU DECIDE
Catalogues and reliable information concerning all
schools and colleges furnished without charge. State
kind of school, address:
American School and College Agency
384,41 Park Row, New York, or 384, 315 Dearborn St., Chicago
BE A LOCOMOTIVE
Soon you will be an engineer and earn
more. We teach you by mail. Only rail-
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tual railway officials. Our students niake
good. Best roads represented. Positions
guaranteed to those mentally and phys
ically competent. Hundreds needed
now. Write today for catalog, etc. ,
The Wenthe Ry. Corres. School,
•v Box 762, Freeport, 111.
PLAYFUL JOHNNY.
Playful little Johnny Green,
Drank a quart of gasoline.
"Mother !" cried he, full of glee,
"I'm an automobile, see !"
John fed powder to the cat,
Father kicked her — great eclat.
From the racket mother ran —
"Father's such a noisy man!"
Johnny's dead — ate nicotine,
Rough on Rats and Paris green.
Mother swept him out the door,
"Johnny always mussed the floor !"
— Leo Levy.
.EASY MONEY.
The $10.00 shares of the Consolidated Laun-
dry Co. of New York earn 25 per cent divi-
dends and enhance to $100. Salesmen wanted.
Investigate. MANHATTAN FINANCE CO.,
1 Madison Ave., New York.
3.oooViaooo
A YEAR IH THE
REAL ESTATE
BUSINESS.
We will teach you by mail the Real Estate,
General Brokerage and Insurance Business, and
appoint you
SPECIAL REPRESENTATIVE
of the oldest and largest co-operative real es-
tate and brokerage company in America. Rep-
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without any investment of capital. Excellent
opportunities open to YOU. By our system you
can make money in a few weeks without inter-
fering with your present occupation. Our co-op-
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able property to handle than any other institu-
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CIAL LAW COURSE FREE TO EACH REP-
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THE CROSS COMPANY, 931 REAPER BLOCK,
CHICAGO.
°n all subjects. Also Plays,
Speakers at Wholesale
Prices. Catalog FREE. St. Paul Book & Station
ery Co., 33 Sixth St., St. Paul, Minn.
Please Mention Overland Monthly in Writing Advertisers.
xill
"MARKS A NEW ERA IN LIFE INSURANCE."
" Meets the Views of Careful Providers."
" Best Quality— Low Price." " None as Good."
This is what Prudential Field Managers say of the
NEW LOW COST POLICY
of
The Prudential
Rates Lowest
Consistent with Liberality and Safety, Offered by
Any Company of Corresponding Size, Importance
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Meeting the Demand for Cheaper and Plainer
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Incorporated as a Stock Company by the
State of New Jersey.
JOHN F. DRYDEN, Home Office :
President. NEWARK, N. J.
Send us your age nearest birthday, and see what $1 a week will buy in Life Insurance for you.
xiv Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
:
The proof of the pudding is in the eating '
THANKSGIVING
is not complete, without
PLUM PUDDING
Made from
SELF-RISING B. B. B. FLOUR
A pudding that leaves no sad memories
PLUM PUDDING
Stir one cup raisins into 2
cups Allen's Boston Brown
Bread Flour and add 1-2
cup New Orleans Molasses,
1 cup sweet milk, 1 egg, 1
teaspoonful cloves and 1-2
a nutmeg grated. Steam as
directed for Boston Brown
Bread.
Chopped Prunet or Figs may be used initead of
Raisins.
ALLEN'S B. B. B. FLOUR. COMPANY
Pacific Coast Factory, San Jose, Cal.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
Continental Building and Loan
of California
ESTABLISHED 1889
Subscribed Capital . .
Paid-in Capitol . . . .
Profit and Reserve Fund
Monthly Income, over .
$15,OOO,OOO
3.OOO.OOO
. . 450.0OO
200,000
ITS PURPOSE IS
To help its members to build homes, also to
make loans on improved property, the mem-
bers giving first liens on real estate as
security. To help its stock holders to earn
from 8 to 12 per cent per annum on their
stock, and to allow them to open deposit
accounts bearing interest at the rate of
5 per cent per annum.
Church near Market Street,
San Francisco.
A Skin of Beauty Is a Joy Forever.
DR. T. FELIX GOURAUD'S
ORIENTAL CREAM, or Magical Beautifier
Removes Tan, Pimples,
Freckles, Moth Patches,
Rash, and Skin Dis-
eases and every
blemish on
beauty, and de-
nes detection. It
has stood the
test of 58 years,
and is so harm-
less we taste it
to be sure it In
properly made.
Accept no coun-
terfeit of similar
name. Dr. Li. A.
Sayre said to a
lady of the haut-
ton (a patient) :
"As you ladies will use them, I recommend
'Uouraud's Cream ' as the least harmful of all
the skin preparations."
For sale by all Druggists and Fancy Goods
Dealers in the United States, Canada and Eu-
rope.
Gouraud's Oriental Toilet Powder
An ideal antiseptic toilet powder for infants
and adults. Exquisitely perfumed. Relieves
skin irritation, cures sunburn and renders an
excellent complexion.
Price, 26 cents per box by mail.
GOURAUD'S POUDRE SUBTILE removes
superfluous hair without Injury to the skin.
Price, ?1.00 per bottle by mail.
FERD T. HOPKINS, Prop'r, 37 Great Jones St
New York.
WHY THE PRUDENTIAL CHANGED ITS
PLAN OF DOING BUSINESS.
"The Prudential Insurance Company of Amer-
ica has changed to a non-participating basis be-
cause it believes that the man who buys life in-
surance to-day wants a policy at the lowest
possible cost, with the best protection that
money will purchase.
Former United States Senator John F. Dry-
den, president of The Prudential, thus stated
the reasons for The Prudential's change in its
plan of doing business.
''The company has taken this course believing
that the general public now prefers low life in-
surance rates with liberal guarantees, rather
than higher rates with estimated dividends.
"We believe our new non-participating pol-
icy meets these demands and that it will be
found equal to if not better than any other pol-
icy now offered ' to the public. It is issued in
amounts from $1,000 up, and contains the entire
contract, everything in the policy being guaran-
teed. It is a great success.
"In The Prudential's office and field adminis-
tration," President Dryden continued, "many
important improvements have been introduced,
the effect of which will be to further reduce the
expense-rate and bring about economies in
management in other directions. This is in
Strict conformity with the company's established
plan for many years, each succeeding year indi-
cating progress and success, as measured by
the most rigid standard of sound economy.
"During 1906 The Prudential's general ex-
pense rate, exclusive of taxes, was the lowest in
the company's history, the reduction being near-
ly three per cent of the premium income.
"The Prudential has the well-earned reputa-
tion of thorough familiarity with every detail of
office and field administration, and its complex
business, financial, actuarial, medical and other
experience now extends over more than three
decades. Every precaution is employed to safe-
guard the interests of policyholders against the
admission of inferior risks, and the question of
quality alone determines the business policy of
the company.
"The Prudential has now over 7,000,000 poli-
cies in force, and its new low-cost non-par-
ticipating policy is one of the best-selling poli-
cies The Prudential has ever issued. Prudential
agents all over the country are handling the
new .policy with great success and reporting big
business.
"In a table just published, The Prudential
compares its new low rates with the average
rates of one hundred and two life insurance
companies of the world. The comparison is ex-
ceedingly instructive, and graphically empha-
sizes the assertion that the new rates of The
Prudential are the lowest, consistent with liber-
ality and safety, offered to the public by any
company of corresponding size, importance and
responsibility in either the United States or
Europe.
"A specimen of the new policy will be sent,
free of cost, to any person sending age and
occupation to The Prudential, Newark, N. J.,
and we believe that upon comparison it will be
found there is no policy in the world equal to
the new policy of The Prudential."
ire you going to St. Louis?
he HOTEL HAMILTON is a deliahtful place in the Best Resi-
pt Section and away from the noise and smoke; yet within easy
cess. Transient Rate: $1 to $3 per day. European Plan. Special
iites by the week. Write for Booklet. Address: W. F. WILLIAM-
DN, Manager:
UNITED GLASS WORKS
Ornamental Glass of all kinds. 1 15 TURK ST.
S. F. Phone Franklin 1 763. H. R. Hopps, Prop.
ART MOSAICS
xvi
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
Free Sample of Toxico Mailed to any Address
TOXICO, the great discovery for ASTHMA, HAY FEVEE, BEONCHITIS,
and CATAEEH, has cured thousands of the most stubborn cases. It makes no
difference how long you have been suffering from any of these diseases, or .how
severe the climatic conditions are where you live, TOXICO WILL CUEE YOU.
If you have experimented with other treatments and have failed to find a cure, do
not be discouraged, but try at our expense this truly meritorious remedy.
This marvelous remedy is a scientific compound discovered by a professor of the
Vienna University, Austria. TOXICO is an internal treatment, pleasant to take,
and does not derange the stomach, as the dose is only 6 drops in a small wine-
glass of water. GUAEANTEED under the Pure Food and Drugs Act, June 30,
1906.
Read these letters from CURED PATIENTS
A CASE OF CATARRH OF LONG
STANDING.
Dec. 31st, 1906.
Toxico Laboratory:
Gentlemen:
I had a very severe case of ca-
tarrh of long standing. On waking
in the morning I would have to
clear my throat, and a hard lump
about the size of the end of your
thumb would come from my
throat. Now, after using your
Toxico treatment, this lump has
nearly disappeared, and the con-
tinual ringing in my right ear has
entirely ceased. I am well satis-
fled. Yours respectfully,
W. R. BYNUM,
713 N. 19th St., Birmingham. Ala.
HAD HAY FEVER FOR 26
YEARS.
Sept. 13th, 1906.
Toxico Laboratory: Sirs:
I have had hay fever for 26 years,
and no one knows what I have
suffered. My head and eyes have
bothered me so much that I have
had to stay in a dark room. Noth-
ing gave me any relief until I tried
Toxico, and since I have taken
your wonderful medicine I have
not been bothered once. Excuse
me for not answering sooner, but
I have been very busy since my
hay fever has been cured.
Yours respectfully,
MRS. CLARAH KELLER,
Elyria, Ohio. Route 3.
Proof beyond
a doubt that
TOXICO
is a positive
cure for these
diseases.
These extracts
are from
original letters
on file in our
offices
and have been
selected from
thousands
of similar ones
which we
receive daily.
HAD ASTHMA ATTACKS ONCE
A WEEK.
Dec. 3d, 1906.
Toxico Laboratory:
Gentlemen:
I get asthma once a week regu-
larly and I have to vomit and
cough; my eyes get blood red and
swell up. Your free sample did
not help me much, as I have
asthma a long time. You may
send me a month's treatment, and
I hope it will cure me.
I remain respectfully,
FORREST G. GLASSER,
Kutztown, Pa.
Read this letter, received more
than three months later:
March 20th, 1907.
Sirs:
I have not had an asthmatic at-
tack since I received your first
bottle — that is, after I had taken
Toxico for two weeks. I used to
have attacks every week. My ap-
petite improved, and I am now
strong and open chested, and can
take part in athletic games. I
cheerfully recommend Toxico to all
sufferers, and will answer all ques-
tions about the effect of your rem-
edy. I hope this will direct a suf-
ferer to your wonderful remedy.
I remain yours respectfully,
FORREST GLASSER,
Kutztown, Pa.
Send right now for a free sample of TOXIGO before you forget it. Address
THE TOXICO LABORATORY, 544 Townsend B'ld'g, New York City.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
xvii
FRED'K B. VOLZ
MRS. HELEN FREESE
Volz & Freese
Importers of works of art*
Present some odd, quaint and
beautiful things from the art
centers of the world: Original
Oil Paintings, Ivory, Miniature
Carved Ivory, Art Furniture,
Bric-a-Brac, Curios, Bronzes,
Statuary, Old Capo Di Monte,
Antique Rouen, Chelsea,
Lowestoft, Bristol, Etc., with
prices that are attractive.
An exceptional opportunity for wedding presents
947-949 Van Ness Avenue
Telephone 2917 FRANKLIN
1867
1907
40 Years
ELECTRO
SILICON
Is Unequalled lor
Cleaning and Polishing
SILVERWARE.
Send address for a FREE SAMPLE, or 15c. in
Stamps for a full box.
Electro-Silicon Soap has equal merits.
THE ELECTRO SILICON Co., 30 Cliff St., New York.
Grocers and Druggists sell It.
I
CALIFORNIA PROMOTION BOY
From Pierce Premier Herd of Hoteteins
Prize Bull offered by the California Promotion Committee for
the best display of products Irom a single irrigated farm.
National Irrigation Congress. Sacramento, Sept., 1907.
I
xviii
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
MODEL B
r
Model B Bull Dog Suspenders
Outwear Three Ordinary Kinds. Dependable— give with every
move— lively rubber, gold gilt metal parts.
For man or youth— light, heavy or extra heavy— extra long (no e x-
tra cost). The best suspenders for every need. Ask your dealer. If
he cannot supply you, we will, postpaid, for 50c
HEWES ®> POTTER Largest Suspender makers in the world.
Dept. 895 87 Lincoln Street, Boston, Mass.
Via Salt. Lake Route, Union Pacific and North Western, through Salt Lake City, Odgen
and Omaha. All agents from San Francisco South sell tickets to the East* via the Salt
Lake Route. Your patronage is solicited for this superb train.
F. A. WANN, Genl. Traffic Manager; T. C. PECK, Gen. Pass. Agent
LOS ANGELES
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
xix
450c GENUINE DRAWNWORK ti»« f\f\
Handkerchiefs *1^
$2.00 Value for $1.00.
These beautiful handkerchiefs are
genuine hand drawnwork on fine
linen lawn ; 11 inches square. As-
sorted designs as illustrated. No. A.
40c ; B, very sheer. 50c ; C and D, 30c
each. Our special introductory offer,
all four handkerchiefs illustrated,*'
sent postpaid for only $1.00. War-
ranted genuine handwork.
20c
I GENUINE CORAL
! NECKLACE
Special Half Price Sale.
These 2 NECKLACES for $1.
Warranted genuine,
best imported rich color
coral. For limited time
I the following sizes at half regular prices: 16-in. Necklace.
I twig coral, like inside illustration, with clasp, regular 40c, for
20c ; 56-in. Pan Chain, 42c; 16-in. Necklace of genuine round
Icoral beads, like cut, regular $1.75, for 85c ; both necklaces
''as illustrated for $1.00. i
Genuine $2.00 Turquoise $1.00
BIRTH STONE FOR DECEMBER
The world's finest turquoise is mined in New
Mexico ; hence we can sell it at half jewelers'
prices. A beautiful azure turquoise with ex-
quisite matrix vein markings, like cut, weight
| about 1 carat, regular price $2.00, special offer,
to introduce, each $1.00. Warranted to keep
color; otherwise cheerfully exchanged. Each
gem under our warranty. Our art catalog of
Native Gems, such as Fire Opals, Amethysts,
•Arizona Rubies, Topaz, etc.. in colors, free on request.
THE SWASTIKA— This emblem has been used by the
INavajo Indians for ages as an amulet of good luck, and
Ifrom this originated the present Swastika fad. We sell only
the original hand-made Swastika, in solid silver and gold—
Jnp cheap imitations, which are unworthy of this beautiful
jhistoric emblem. Our circular giving the history and
•meaning of the Swastika sent free on request. We make
I the following special offers; illustrations are actual size :
SOLID SILVER.
ITURQUOISE-SET SWASTIKA
(This brooch is the original hand-made Indian
'Swastika, solid silver, hand-hammered with
(Indian characters, and mounted with genuine
Jsky blue turquoise ; -fa inch wide, as illustrat-
led. Good 75c value ; our special price. 50c.
iWaist set of four for $1.75. Same brooch
fwithout turquoise, 35c;4 for $1.25. Same
Ithini-r in % in. scarf pin, turquoise set, 35c;
lunsot, 25c.
GOLD FILIGREE
TURQUOISE-SET SWASTIKA
This Swastika brooch is solid 16k gold, ex-
quisitely hand-made in gold filigree by our
expert Mexican workers ; a work of art, very
dainty, yet strong. Set with genuine fine
blue turquoise < birth stone for December),
showing prettily against the gold. % inch
wide, like cut. Worth $3.75. Our special
price, each $3.00. Waist set of four for
Same thing without turquoise. $2.50; 4 for $9. Same
thing in iVinch scarf pin, turquoise set, $2.50; unset. $2.35.
Money refunded if not satisfactory
Genuine Hand-Woven CDCCf
Indian Basket riYCC™ore (8ee,
illustration)
30-page Art Catalog of Mexican Drawnwork,
tfndian Rugs, Baskets. Pottery, 6 cents.
The FRANCIS E. LESTER CO., Dept. DL11. Mesllla Park, N M.
llargest Retailers Indian- Mexican Handicraft in the World
Greatest Possible Sen/ice
for Least Possible Expense
This fact has been thoroughly demon-
strated by 16,000 users all over the world.
A car that provides all the enjoyment
there is in automobiling, all the time,
at an expense so small that almost any
family can afford it. The average
expense to maintain the
SINGLE
CYLINDER
^ ^
AUTOMOBILE
is less than that of a horse and buggy.
Equally dependable, with many times
the service. An ideal family car good
for years of service. The oldest Cadillacs
made are still running as well as ever.
Most practical and economical for Bli-
the-year use, for business and pleasure —
simple and efficient. We prove all these
claims in our 64-page booklet, entitled
'The Truth about the Automobile and
What It Costs to Maintain One"
by actiial results in figures, Riven by users of 164
cars, operated under every road and weather condi-
tion. Mailed free— write at once for Booklet No. 22
CADILLAC MOTOR CAR CO.. Detroit. Micb.
Member Asso. Licensed Auto. Jffrs.
Learn Fundamental Thinking
and The Scientific Interpretation of Life
The sum of all scientific knowledge forms a Network of Facts
and principles, which properly understood, will guide you to the
TRUTH in every field of enquiry.
PARKER H. SERCOMBE Sociologist
Instructor of Impersonal Philoso-
phy based on the Unity and In-
ter-Relationship on all Knowledge
A course of six lesions by mail or in class will enable yon to al-
ways choose the correct point of >iew on every subject and thus
go far towards systematizing your thoughts and guiding your
judgment.
No application will be considered unless it it accompanied by a
sample essay of not more than two hundred words containing the
applicant's best thought on his favorite subject.
I do not personally accept pay for my service — all fees from
pupils being turned over to trustees, the fund to go toward found-
ing a Rational School of Life and Thought.
ter
addrcs
Parker H. Sercombe, 2238 Calument Avenue, Chicago,
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
BISHOP FURNITURE GO,
GRAND RAPIDS
MICH.
SHIP ANYWHERE "ON APPROVAL" allowing furniture in your
inme five days, to be returned at our expense and money refund-
id if not perfectly satisfactory and all you expected.
WE PREPAY FREIGHT to all points east of the Mississipi River
,nd north of Tennessee line, allowing freight that far toward
loints beyond. When answering this advertisement please state
freight prepaid to yon
static
Buy« this beautiful "Napoleon" Bed
No, 849 (worth $55 00) in Mahogany
or Oak. Dreiser to match, and hun-
dreds of pieces in our large FREE
CATALOG. Mailed on request.
Buys this No. 1255 genuine Leather Couch (worth $45.00). Has beau-
tiful Quartered Oak frame, full Turkish spring construction best
leather and filling. Extra large and comfortable. Length 78 inches
width 32 inches.
WE FURNISH
HOMES
HOTELS.CLUBS,
HOSPITALS
Y. M. G. A.
AND OTHER
PUBLIC
BUILDINGS
COMPLETE
$24.76 (not $36)
Buys this handsome, high-grade
Dining Extension Table No. 626
(worth $36), made of select fig-
ured Quartered Oak, piano polish
or dull finish. Top 48 inches in
diameter, locks securely. Hat
beautifully hand carved claw
feet.
$34.75 [not $50.00]
Buys this handsome high grade Com-
bination China Closet and Buffett.No.
5T6. (worth $50,00). Made of select
Quartered Oak, any finish. French
Bevel Mirror 24x18 inches. Length 56
inches. Scores of other Buffets, Side-
boards. Tables and Chairs in FREE
catalog.
1 1 0 75 buys this No 694 Hand-
" ^ some Mission Bookcase
(worth $30.00). You save $11.25
because we ship Direct on Appro-
val Hade of Quartered Oak, any
finish. Has adjustable shelves and
heavy glass doors with artistic
lattice design. Height 55 inches.
Width. 44 in.
$10.50
buys this large, beautiful and
convenient Mission Writing Desk
(No. 735), worth $15.00. Made of
Quartered Oak, any finish. Height
42 in Width 30 in. You save
S5.25 by ordering Direct.
Our FREE CATALOG shows over 1000 piece
Everything from the cheapest that is good to the best made. It posts
you on styles and prices. Write for it today
BISHOP FURNITURE CO., 78-90 lona St., Grand Rapids, Mich.
$22.50 [not $40]
buys this laiee, luxurious Colo
nial Rocker No. 1275 (worth $40),
covered with best genuine leather.
Has quartered Oak or Mahogany
finish rockers, full Turkish spring
seat and back. An ornament and
Gem of luxury and comfort in
any home.
Called Back
by-
Hu^hCbnway
r
A STORY OF
Tremendous Power
HUGH CON WAY has won world-wide fame by this
story. The plot is unusual, but natural. The charac-
ters are the real men and women as they exist in the
world, not the impossible kind of cheap fiction. The hero
and heroine are of such lofty type that no boy or girl, man
or woman, unless dead to all the tender sentiments of the
human soul, can read this book without receiving an inspira-
tion. No one can read "CALLED BACK" and not know
that there is such a thing as pure unselfish love.
"CALLED BACK" is a master-piece of English as well
as fiction. It enriches both heart and mind. It is a
story so sweet and enchanting that it ought to be in
every home. We are printing an advertising edi-
tion of 50,000 copies, in good clear type, for free
distribution. Let us send you a copy.
Absolutely FREE and Postpaid
We do this to advertise Vick's Magazine,
which was established over 30 years ago
by that great lover of flowers and
mankind, James Vick.
Publ'g Co.
508 Vick Bl K
Dansville, N. Y
Gentlemen
Vick's Magazine
journal, with colored covers, x" w'"=^"VA,i "I "~-rV~"i, "» vw
and contains many helpful S of "Called
departments and the most / Hugh Conway, and a
fascinating literature. / pie copy of Vick 's^Ma ga zine^
We know you will like both the book and the magazine. Please y/^*!- _\ "S^raHon to subscrlH
let us send you a sample copy of Vick's Magazine and the / "^that no charge whatever is to
advertising edition of the book absolutely free and pre- X &n^™1 f"° ^ny sample copies
paid. Just send your name and address on a postal, or / mailed to my address, but if I so de-
sire I may take advantage of your spe-
Vick Publishing Company
508 Vick Block, Dansville, N. Y. / Town
County or R. F. D. State
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser!.
VAN ^STORAGE
SHIPPERS • HOOSEHOLD GOODS
AT EDUCED RATES.
968 Broadway, Oakland
Household goods shipped to and from the East and South at
reduced rates
San Francisco Chicago Los Angeles
MAIL ORDER MEN AND PUBLISHERS
DOUBLE your returns with the Money Mailer.
Brings cash with the order. The best advertising
novelty on the market. 1 doz. samples 10 cents
postpaid.
Paper folding Boxes and Waterproof Signs a
specialty Write ns for prices.
R. LINDLEY PAPER BOX CO. LOUISVILLE, KY.
GOURAUD'S ORIENTAL TOILET POWDER
An ideal, antiseptic toilet powder for infants
and adults. Bquisitely perfumed. Cures skin
troubles and keeps the complexion in an excel-
lent condition. Mailed on receipt of 25 cents
per box. F. T. HOPKINS, proprietor.
37 Great Jones St., New York City.
A M £ L
Oak, Cherry, Mahogany, Walnut,
Rosewood or Transparent
FOB OLD OR NEW FLOORS, FURNITURE AND WOODWORK
Wears like cement — Dries over night with Bril-
liant Gloss. Contains no Japan or Shellac. Write
at once for Free Booklet, Color Card and List of
Dealers. TRIAL, CAN FREE (send lOc. to pay
postage). Enough for a Chair, Table or Kitchen
Cabinet. Address: "FLOOR-SHINE" CO.,
ST. LOUIS, MO.
Sold by Hale Bros., Agents, San Francisco,
and A. Hamburger Sons, Los Angeles.
If you are a dealer write for the Agency.
.Every Woman
A is interested and should know
about the wonderful
IMARVEL Whirling Spray
|The new Vastlnal Syringe. In
' tction and Suction. Best-
Safest— Most Con-
venient. It cleanses
Ask your druggist for
If he cannot supply the .
MARVEL, accept no
other, but send stamp for
illustrated book— sealed. It gi\
full particulars and directions in- ,
valuable to ladies. MARVE1, CO.
44 E. «8d ST., NEW YOKK
Social requirements
and the obligations of
the home will be met
promptly on time all
the time if you place
your dependence upon
the Lady El gin- -a
new Elgin for woman-
kind.
Illustration actual size of watch.
Every Elgin Watch is fully guaranteed ; all
jewelers have them. Send for "The Watch,"
a ?,tory of the time of day.
ELGIN NATIONAL WATCH CO.
ELGIN, ILL.
xxii
Please Mention Overland Monthly in Writing Advertisers.
Five In One
58. 65, 70, 82 and 88 Notes in One Instrument.
Would You Buy a 65-Note Piano?
Then Why Buy a 65-Note Player When
You Can Get One With 88 Notes?
Why The
/f Apollo Player Piano
Is the Best:
It Has the Great This unique and
Transposing important device
Mouthpiece changes the music
4 to any key to suit the voice or ac-
/ companymg instrument, and pre-
vents the annoyance caused by the
chrinking or swelling of the music
rolls. No other player piano in
the world has this mouthpiece.
It Plays 88 Notes This wide range permits the proper performance
Piano Keyboard °f ^ gr^r musica/ comP°s/tions and imparts to
each one the mass of tone color absolutely neces-
sary for an artistic interpretation. No other player piano in the
world has this 88-note range.
Its Stroke on the This fact insures to the Apollo Player Piano an ex-
lanoKeylsLike pression that is really human, and that never can
the Human Stroke { u^'j'^u i • i i
be obtained m those player pianos where the
pneumatic finger is made to push the piano hammer upward
back of the fulcrum.
It is Easily Operated, Durably Beyond all question its valuable fea-
Bmlt, Beautifully Finished tureS) not possessed by any other, make
the Apollo Player Piano the best in the world for the musical home.
It comprises five scales in one case — 58, 65, 70, 82 and 88 notes.
We Make More Player Piano Styles and Combinations (ban All Otber
Manufacturers Together. Investigate and You Will Buy Only the Apollo.
THE TRANSPOSING MOUTHPIECE
The Apollo
Plays 58, 65 and
88 Note Music
Send for Illustrated Booklet to the Manufacturers.
Melville Clark Piano Co.
Steinway Hall Chicago
Benj. Curtaz & Sons, Agents, 1615 Van Ness Ave., San Francisco, Cal.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
XXiil
Construction News
Press Clippings
Contractors, Material Men, Builders, Manu-
facturers, in fact anybody interested in con-
struction news of all kinds, obtain from our
daily reports quick, reliable Information.
Our special correspondents all over th«
country enable us to give our patrons the
news in advance of their competitors and
before it has become common property.
Let us know what you want, and we will
•end you samples and quote you prices.
Press Clippings on any subject from all
the leading current newspapers, magazines,
trade and technical journals of the United
States and Canada. Public speakers, writ-
ers, students, club women can secure re-
liable data for speeches, essays, debates,
etc. Special facilities for serving trade and
class journals, railroads and large industrial
corporations.
We read, through our staff of skilled
readers, a more comprehensiye and better
•elected list of publications than any other
bureau.
We aim to give prompt and intelligent
service at the lowest price consistent with
good work.
Write us about it. Send stamp for book-
let.
United States Press Clipping Bureau
14? Fifth Avenue Chicago, III.
It is now positively
known that falling hair
is caused by a germ,
hence is a regular germ
disease. Hall's Hair Re-
newer promptly stops
falling hair because it
destroys the germs
which produce this
trouble. It also destroys
the dandruff germs, and
restores the scalp to a
healthy condition.
Formula: Glycerin, Capsicum, Bay Eum, Sulphur, Tea.
Rosemary Leaves, Boroglycerin, Alcohol, Perfume.
Ask your druggist for "the new kind." The kind that does
not change the color of the hair. R. P. HALL & CO.. Natbui. N. H.
JUDICIOUS PURCHASING
gf the material in your building means more profit on your invest-
ment. <£* £& $# Buy" from us, as sales agents §f California's
best constructive materials. <£& <%& && Our quality" is unsur-
passed and San Francisco benefits by" our prices. <A# <£# <£#
It means money" to you, whether owner, architect or contractor.
OURj LINES COMPRISE
CEMENT-Standard Portland Cement.
Santa Cruz Portland Cement.
LIME—Holmes Lime Co., brands.
PLASTER-Marbleite Hardwall Plaster.
BRICK-Central Brick Co., Red and Repressed,
Carnegie Brick and Pottery" Co., Fire and
Face Brick, Sewer Pipe and Terra Cotta.
CRUSHED ROCK-Good quality". "Blue Trap."
Western Building cTWaterial Company
430 CALIFORNIA ST.
Phone Temporary 2647
SAN FRANCISCO
YOUR
WINTER TRIP
made comfortable
by the
SUNSET ROUTE
Traverses the sunny south between San Francisco and
New Orleans.
V
Vestibuled Drawing Room sleeping cars. Dining service
the best. Parlor observation car. Library. Cafe. La-
dies' lounging room.
V
Personally conducted family excursion parties between
California and New Orleans, Kansas City, St. Louis,
Cincinnati, Chicago and Washington every week.
Connections made at New Orleans with New Orleans-
New York Steamship Co. 's steamers for New York.
Your choice of an all rail or sea voyage
TICKET OFFICES
884 Market Street 14th and Franklin Sts.
San Francisco, Cal. Oakland, Cal.
Please Mention Overland Monthly in Writing Advertisers.
From the Catholic Standpoint
Thinking people get a new and an inter-
esting focus on the city's and the world's
affairs. The only way to secure that
vantage is by reading
iinmtnr
(ESTABLISHED 1858)
The Official Organ of the Archdiocese of San Francisco
The Only Catholic Paper in San Francisco
ffl 3% frontier ta
fl A weekly newspaper and review for
Catholics and for all persons inter-
ested in religion.
0 Here Catholics get Catholic news, au-
thentic and authoritative— not garbled
nor colored— presented in a crisp and
newsy style.
<I And the public in general secures the
Catholic side of things
Most Rev. P. W. Riordan
D. D., President
Rt. R-v.TKos.Grace.D.D.
Rev. M. D. Connolly
Rev. W. B. O'Connor
Rev. J. B. McNally
.Rev.P. E. Mulligan.Sec'y
Subscription, &2.50 a Year
PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY
ilontte Publtfiljtttg 010.
Charles Phillips.
Editor and Manager
Sarsfield F. MacCarthy.
Business Manager
212 LEAVEN WORTH ST.
SAN FRANCISCO. CALIFORNIA
Put Your Money in a New York
Enterprise
Particularly, if you can get it in one that is a money-maker and has stood
all tests for 25 YEAES MAKING a PROFIT each year.
$9.50 will start you, giving you a $10 interest with a personal guarantee "by
the Treasurer of the Company," for 6*4 per cent on your money.
$95 will give you 10 shares of stock (the par value of which is $100), or you
may secure as many shares as you desire by paying one-tenth of the amount
down, one-tenth more each month thereafter, until paid for, "Beside getting all divi-
dends paid on your stock during that time.
Just a Moment Now
While I tell you something of this company whose stock I am offering, and
which you should buy if you want a safe, sound and money-making investment,
one that will permit you to sleep well, and makes money for you while you sleep.
History of the Business
Mr. John F. Douthitt, "whose name this company bears," established this busi-
ness 25 years ago, has made money every year since, last year cleared over $50,000.
All these years the business has been located on the wealthiest street, in the greatest
city in the world, 273 Fifth avenue, New York City.
The John F. Douthitt Co. deals in hand-painted tapestries, upholsteries, draper-
ies, oil paintings,, water colors, brass goods and antiques of all kinds ; besides all
this, the company does a large decorating business. Mr. Douthitt has decorated
some of the finest homes, hotels, theatres, State capitols and court houses in all
parts of the United States.
The company is headquarters for and carries the largest stock of HAND
PAINTED SILK TAPESTRIES IN THE WORLD.
The continual growth of this enterprise made it too large for a one man business,
thereby necessitating making it a corporation, which was affected last November
when the John F. Douthitt Co. took over this excellent business, with a house
packed full of goods amounting to over $200,000 AND NOT ONE CENT OF IN-
DEBTEDNESS. Can one ask for anything better?
There is a limited amount of this stock for sale, but only a part of that will
be sold at $9.50, and the only notice of advance in price will be when printed on
the coupon below.
In filling out the coupon, write plainly the name to whom the certificate is for,
but send in quickly before the advance in price.
There is a good position here for several men in the different lines.
Make all checks and orders to G. M. WHEELER, Treasurer.
JOHN F. DOUTHITT CO. 273 Fifth Ave., N. I. C.
FORMED UNDER THE LAWS OF THE STATE OF MAINE
Capital stock, (fall paid and non-asseisable) &300.000.
Par value of shares, S10 each, now Belling at 49-50 per shar*.
Enclosed find & in payment for shares of the Jno. F. Douthitt Co. Issue
Certificate to - City ,
Street— State . OVERLAND MONTHLY
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
xxvil
HARTSHORN SHADE ROLLERS
Wood Rollers
Tin Rollers
Bear the script name of Stewart
Hartshorn on label.
Get "Improved," no tacks required.
Interior Decoration
IS • AN ILLUSTRATED MONTHLY
MAGAZINE FULL OF IDEAS
Decorating and Furnishing the
Home correctly and tastefully is as
necessary as dressing fashionably
and becomingly
1 0 cents, postpaid $ 1 .00 a year
Catalog of Books on Decoration Free
Clifford & Lawton, 19 Union Sq,, New York
For More than a Century
various disorders of the stomach and bowels,
such as indigestion, sour stomach, heartburn,
biliousness, both in adults and children, have
been relieved by
a mild and pleasant remedy. Corrects acidity, assists diges-
tion and relieves constipation. Take the genuine only— it
requires a smaller dose than imitations and is doubly effica-
cious without harshness. In use since 1772. Bottle sealed
with old-style British "Inland Revenue" stamp bearing: name
run., jo. u/ii I ,n HPMPV Sold in the United States
THOs. & WILLm. HENKY whh the name of Schieffelin
MANCHESTER & Co. on label, which secures
wrapper. Refuse inferior substitutes. Ask your druggist.
133 Spear Street, San Francisco.
Illustrated catalogue on application. Office and Factory 1808
Market St., San Francisco. Branch, 837 S Spring St., Los Ingeles
For Breakfast
The Pacific Coast Cereal
THE JOHNSON-LOCKE MERCANTILE CO., Agents
SAN FRANCISCO
xxviii
Please Mention Overland Monthly In Writing Advertisers.
The
Christmas
Issue
of
Overland
Monthly
iri/l present an astonishing un-aii of interesting and timely arti-
cles and strong -fiction.
Our special Christmas story is "The House of Santa Clan*."
by MAY C. RINGWALT. and we venture to say that a better
Christmas story has not appeared in many years.
GEORGE WHARTON JAMES ir rites of the founding of
Overland Monthly, with many interesting /icrxonul anecdotes of
Mark Twain, Bret Harte and others.
JACK LONDON writes a powerful but humorous sketch up-
on "The Dignity of Dollars."
Hon. John Barrett writes upon "Giial''>iial<i To-Day," and
the relations of that fertile land to the Pacific Coast.
Among other features is an extremely well-written, article de-
scribing how the Sisters of the Holy Family care for the children,
of the poor; an article upon Mr. William Randolph Hearst as an
<'iiij)loyer, by one of his employees; while another writer deals
irilh "The Other Mr. Rogers" telling us the unknown personal
side of Henry H. Rogers, the great Standard Oil magnate. Dr.
Clarence E. Edwards gives an excellent sketch upon the possi-
bilities of scientific poultry raising.
The fiction side of the Christmas Overland Monthly will be
especially strong. Our verse is something unusual, too. Joaquin
Miller's poem is a distinct contribution to contemporary poetry.
Read the Christmas Overland Monthly. Edited by Hamilton
Wright.
HOTEL EMPIRE
FOR FAMILIES AND TRANSIENTS
Broadway & 63rd St., (Lincoln Sq.) N. Y. CITY
IN THE VERY CENTRE OF EVERYTHING
All surface cars pass or transier to door.
Subway and "L" stations, two minutes
ALL MODERN IMPROVEMENTS
Rooms, with detached bath, 1.50 per day up
Rooms, wild private bath, 2.00 " " "
Suites, With private bath, 3.50
European plan, also Combination breakfasts
EXCELLENT SERVICE-FINE MUSIC
W. Johnson Quinn, Proprietor
Etched extremely deep and guaranteed to print
clean We operate the most complete engraving
and printing plant in America twenty four hours a
day every work day in the year. We are a money
back proposition if you are not satisfied -We can
deliver an order of any size of engraving within
24 hours after receiving copy
CORRESPONDENCE SOLICITED
f*l A DlTENGnAV|NC a*
WkAVtfiTV PRINTING CO.
MILWAUKEE, U.S.A.
ARTISTS -ENGRAVERS & PRINTERS.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
xxix
The Overland Monthly
SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.
An Illustrated Magazine of the West
Magazine Offers for 1907:
The prices are for a year's subscription. T he prices cover postage anywhere in United
States or American possessions, and in Canad a, Mexico and Cuba. The magazines in com-
binations may be for one or more persons. Be careful to give names and addresses clearly
a nd fully.
CLASS A
OUR MAGAZINE LIST
THE OVERLAND MONTHLY, Regular Price $1.5O
Regular Price. CLASS C
American Boy $1.00
Automobile Magazine 2.00
Bohemian 1.00
Children's Magazine 1.00
Cosmopolitan 1.00
Travel Magazine 1.00
Harpers' Bazar 1.00
Madame 1.00
National 1.00
Pearson's 1.00
Pictorial Review 1.00
Suburban Life 1.00
Success 1.00
Sunset 1.50
Taylor- Trotwood 1.00
Tomorrow Magazine 1.00
Woman's Home Companion l.Ot)
World To-Day 1.00
Regular Price
Ainslie's $1.80
Appleton's Booklovers' 3.00
Automobile (weekly) , 2.00
Burr Mclntosh 3.00
Current Literature 3.00
Forum 2.00
Independent 2.00
Lippincott's 2.50
Metropolitan (two years) 3.60
Outing 3.00
Smart Set . 2.50
CLASS D.
Regular Price
CLASS B Regular Price.
American Magazine with Suburban Life.. $2. 00
Broadway Magazine 1.50
Country Gentleman 1.50
Etude 1.50
Musician 1.50
Review of Reviews 3.00
Searchlight 2.00
Technical World 1.50
San Francisco News Letter |4.00
Argonaut 4.00
Harper's Weekly 4.00
Leslie's Weekly 5.00
Harpers' Monthly 4.00
Century 4.00
Scribner's 4.00
Collier's Weekly 5.20
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one of Class B and one of Class C, $7.25.
TiTeOVERLAND MONTHLY CO., Publishers
Offices — 773 Market St., San Francisco.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
My razor is the only new idea in razors for over
400 years. It is absolutely safe in its work — uses
a thin wafer blade with double edges, which, by a
turn of the handle, is adjusted for either
Jtsk your dealer for the
" Gillette" today and
shave yourself with ease,
comfort and economy
for the rest of your life.
a light or close shave.
The " GILLETTE " is
always ready — n O
honing, no
stropping, and
with proper lather-
ing you can shave
yourself in three to
five minutes any and
every morning in the
year at a cost of a frac-
tion of a cent per day.
Just try it yourself and
you will find you would not
part with it for many times its
cost. The double-edged, flexible
blades are so inexpensive that when they
become dull you throw them away as you
would an old pen.
The Gillette Safety Razor consists of a triple silver plated
holder, 72 double*edged blades — 24 keen edges, packed
in a velvet lined leather case and the price is $3.00
at all the leading Jewelry, Drug, Cutlery,
Hardware and Sporting Goods dealers. Com*
bination Sets from $6. SO to $5O.OO.
If substitutes are offered refuse them
and write us at once for our booklet and
free trial offer.
GILLETTE SALES COMPANY
283 Times Building, NEW YORK CITY
NO STROPPING NO HONING
V '
', -
Join the Kohler& Chase Piano Club
now forming. There are more Konler & Chase Pianos sold on the Coast
than any other two makes— There's a reason— USERS WILL TELL YOU
Any young man, or woman, husband, or father, earning a fair salary, can become a club
member — we ship KOHLER & CHASE PIANOS to reliable people anywhere.
In the making of the MODEL "M" $400 KOHLER & CHASE PIANO we simply combine
the best brains, the highest skill and the finest materials, with such care that the piano Is
made so good that we can guarantee it for the lifetime of the instrument.
OUR CO-OPERATIVE CLUB plan sends the MODEL "M" $400 KOHLER & CHASE PIANO
to your home, if in the city; or to depot here for shipment,
THE CLUB COST BEING ONLY $287
To share in this saving — nearly $125 — you can pay as little as $10 when you join — the bal-
ance $10 monthly (quarterly, or yearly terms if desired), and besides club members are given
an agreement that in case of their death WE GIVE THE FAMILY A RECEIPT IN FULL
for balance due us on the instrument, WITHOUT A DOLLAR MORE BEING PAID— provided
all previous payments have been made according to agreement and contract has been in force
six months or more.
Only a few more members and the club will be complete. Call or write for Booklet "N,"
which will explain the fairest, best and safest piano proposition ever made — others are furnish-
ing their homes with pianos under our club plan — why not yours. No matter what you are
offered elsewhere, investigate; it's to your interest to do so.
One hundred club members.
Join in a wholesale transac-
tion— taking one hundred model
"M" $400 Kohler & Chase
pianos, thereby saving nearly a
third of their piano money. No
waiting. No delays. Pianos are
sent as soon as club member is
accepted.
KOHLER & CHASE
57 Years in Music.
SAN FRANCISCO,
Sutter and Franklin Sts.
Kelleher & Browne
the first Tailors to locate in their Old Loca-
tion in the burnt district
MODERN BUILDING
MODERN STORE
MODERN TAILORING
MODERN WORKSHOP
the only firm on the Coast making a spec-
ialty of Irish Woolens.
7t& and MARKET, GRANT BUILDING
iAKERS
COCOA
First in Years !
First in Honors !
First on the
Breakfast Tables
of the World!
Q HIGHEST AWARDS IN
TO EUROPE AND AMERICA
WALTER BAKER & Co., Ltd.
[Established 1780]
DORCHESTER, MASS.
MENNENS
Borated
Talcum
flILET POWDE
"Aim Straight"
at the heart of all complexion tronU.-s, by proterthifr the skin
. —before it is roughened and chapped by keen {all winds.
Mennen's Borated Talcum Toilet Powder
i pr.,t,-rN as well as heals ; if used daily it keeps the skin clear
and smooth. For chapping and rhnfine then
nothing half go good as Jlcnnfn's. After bath-
ing and after nharin? it is delightful.
Put up in non-refillahle buxes-the "hoi
that lox"— for your protection. If Menm-ir*
face is on the cover it's genuine and a
guarantee of purity. Guaranteed under the
Food and Drugs Act, June 30th. 1906. Serial
No. 1542. Sold everywhere, or by mail 25
-ents. Sample Free.
GERHARD JIKNNKN CO., Newark, >. J.
Try Mennen's Violet (Borated) Talcum
Toilet Powder
It has the scent of fresh-cut I'anna
GENTLEMEN
WHO DRESS FOR STYLE
NEATNESS, AND COMFORT
WEAR THE IMPROVED
BOSTO
GARTE
THE RECOGNIZED STANDARD
The Name is
stamped on every
loop —
PIANOS
CUSHIONI
BUTTON
CLASP
LIES FLAT TO THE LEG— NEVER
SLIPS, TEARS NOR UNFASTENS
Sample pair, Silk SOc., Cotton 25c.
Mailed on receipt of price.
GEO. FROST CO., Maker*
Boston. Mass.. U.S.A.
ALWAYS EASY
have been established over 55 years. By our system
of payments every family of moderate circuit
stances can own a VOSE piano. We take old in
struments in exchange and deliver the new
in your home free of expense. Write for Cat;
D and explanation.
DECEMBER
1907
Overland Month]/ Company San tacisco
86 ACRES ' WATER FRONT
RES.
SOBOTTOMLAND
Three Tacoma
Bargains in one
Special Sale
$23,500
Buys Tacoma property which in a few
years will be worth $100,000.
Accompanying map shows relative lo-
cation of the three separate Tacoma
properties.
For full description of each property,
personal references, etc., see page ad-
vertisement in front section of this
magazine.
John Jacob Astor said "Buy at the
fringe of a growing city and wait."
LARCHMONT
THE GARDEN SPOT OF PUGET SOUND
Tacoma's Beautiful Suburb
Only 30 minutes from City Hall. Read the story of the great, grow-
ing city, Tacoma, the City of Opportunities.
FOR A SHORT TIME ONLY WE WILL SELL
1-4 Acre lots in beautiful Larchmont* for only $125.00.
$ 1 0 Per Month. Fine celery soil
Make yourself independent by an investment here. Right on the electric car line.
The fruit and vegetables raised here are unequaled and an ideal climate. You can
look the entire country over and never will you have such an opportunity. JWe are
absolutely responsible, can furnish Bank references. Write us for more information
on this beautiful place.
GERMAN AMERICAN LAND CO., Tacoma, Wash.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
TIFFANY & Co.
Fifth Avenue and 37th Street, New York
Christmas Gifts
Tiffany & Co. call attention to a few articles from their holiday stock
especially appropriate for gifts. Photographs sent upon request
Wrist Bags
In silver mesh, $24 upward ; in gold mesh - $150 upward
Princess and Duchess Rings
Precious stone centers, surrounded by diamonds - $125 upward
Brooches
Gold, with semi-precious stones $20 upward
Also many less expensive with and without stones
Ladies' Gold Watches
Open-face watches, $25 upward. Enameled case and dial, $50
upward. Hunting case, $40 upward. Extra flat watches,
invisible joints - - $125
Ladies' Watch or Lorgnon Chains
Plain gold, $16 upward; with semi-precious stones $45 upward
Clocks and Bronzes
Glass and gilt regulators, $20 upward. Louis XV and XVI clock
sets, $100 upward. White marble and gilt clock sets, $1 15 upward.
Hall clocks, $115 upward. Traveling clocks in leather cases, $15
upward. Bronze statuettes, $14 upward; bronze busts, $35 up-
ward; bronze animals, $15 upward. Also a large assortment of
classical and historical subjects, $50 upward
Many more suggestions with concise descriptions and range of
priVes will be found in the Christmas Edition of the 1908 Blue
Book, a copy of which will be mailed upon request
Fifth Avenue Newark
Vol. L No, 6
OVERLAND MONTHLY
An Illustrated Magazine of the West
CONTENTS FOR DECEMBER, 1907
ALCATRAZ (A new Poem) INA COOLBRITH 537
HON. EDWARD ROBESON TAYLOR— A PERSONAL
APPRECIATION PETER ROBERTSON 539
Illustrated with Portrait.
DR. TAYLOR— SEVENTY YEARS YOUNG ... L. B. JEROME 542
A GLIMPSE OF THE BATTLE .... FREMONT OLDER 546
Illustrated with photographs.
"UNTO THE LEAST OF THESE" . . . KATHERINE M. NESFIELD 549
Illustrated with Photogiaphs. |
THE PRINCESS. Verse ALPHONSO BENJAMIN BOWERS 544
IN THE CALCIUM LIGHT.
Mr. Hearst as an Employer . . . . BY ONE OF HIS EMPLOYEES 557
Illustrated with Portrait.
TACOMA— FOR AMBITIOUS MEN . . . HENRY PEARSON 561
Illustrated with Photographs.
"Railways for Tacoma," by R. F. Radebaugh. — "A City of Homes," by Arnott Wood-
roofe, A. R. I. B. A. — "What Made Tacoma," by C. E. Ferguson. — "Tacoma — A Garden
City," by Arnott Woodroofe.
THE HOUSE OF SANTA CLAUS. Story . . MAY C. RINGWALT 581
THE CHRISTMAS STORY. Verse .... MARY OGDEN VAUGHAN 586
SIEGFRIED— OF THE CHICORICA RANGE. Story ETHEL SHACKELFORD 587
THE DIGNITY OF DOLLARS, Essay , , Jack London 592
DUMFRIES: THE HAMLET OF ROBERT BURNS KATHERINE ELWES THOMAS 596
Illustrated with Photographs.
THE CANDLE-STARS OF CHRISTMAS TIME. Verse MARY OGDEN VAUGHAN 602
THE CALL OF THE WHISTLE. Story '. . JOHN KENNETH TURNER 603
THE CHRISTENING. Verse FLORENCE RICHMOND 610
WITH OVERLAND POETS ... 611
"The Muezzin," by James Berry Bensel. — "Our Teddy." — "To a Pioneer," by Helen
Fitzgerald Sanders. — "How Vain is Life," translation by Blanche M. Burbank. — "This is
Wisdom," by John Thorpe. — "St. Christopher," by Raymond Sumner Bartlett. — "I Had
a Dream of Mary" (III.) by Ruth Sterry. — "A Melody," by Myrtle Conger.
SNAP SHOTS IN JAPAN 616
Issued Monthly. $1.50 per year, in advance. Fifteen Cents per copy.
Copyrighted, 1906, by the Overland Monthly Company.
Application for entry as second-class mail matter has been made at the San Francisco, Cal.,
post-office, under Act of Congress of March 3, 1879. Northwestern offices at 74 Hirbour Build-
ing, Butte, Montana, under management of Mrs. Helen Fitzgerald Sanders.
Published by the OVERLAND MONTHLY COMPANY, San Francisco, California.
773 Market Street.
CORSETS
$1.00 TO $3.00
BOSTON
CORSETS j
$3.00 TO $10.00
Combine features of Style
and Fit which make them the
choice of Modistes wherever
fine dressmaking is
A FAIR OFFER!
to convince
OLD BY ALL LEADING DEALERS ON THE PACIFIC COAST
DYSPEPTICS
and those suffering from
Stomach Troubles
of the efficiency of
Slycozone
I will send a
$1.00 BOTTLE FREE
Only one to a family
to any one NAMING THIS MAGAZINE, and
enclosing 25c. to pay forwarding charges. This
offer is made t»o demonstrate Lhe efficiency
of t>his remedy.
Glycozone is absolutely harmless.
It cleanses the lining membrane of the stom-
ach and thus subdues inflammation, thus helping
nature to accomplish a cure.
GLYCOZONE cannot fail to help you, and
will not harm you in the least.
Indorsed and successfully used by leading
physicians for over 15 years.
Sold by leading druggists. None genuine
without my signature.
Chemiit and Graduate of the "Ecole Centrale de* Arts et Manu-
facture- de Pari>," (France).
57 Prince Street, New York City,
FREE!— Valuable booklet on how to treat diseases.
iv
TACOMA, the young man's opportunity.
Three Tacoma Bargains
in
o
ne
SPECIAL SALE,
S23 , 500
Buys property which In a few years will be worth
5100,000.
John Jacob Astor said: "Buy at the fringe of a growing city and wait."
Each of the following pieces of Tacoma realty is just at the point of coming into realization
of rapidly growing city values. They are offered at rate of value fixed in last two years, with
additional discount of 20 per cent on combination sale.
BARGAIN ONE. Consists of 1 Block, 12 Lots.
In the heart of Railway terminal development. The Great Dempsey Mill property joins the
addition on the north. The Milwaukee, Chicago & St. Paul terminals are north and east. Lin-
coln Avenue and the new Seattle interurban on the south. Puyallup River, which the Govern-
ment is dredging for deep water-way is'only one block west.
The Union Pacific, with great terminals soon to be built, and the Northern Pacific, with
yards already built, occupy all available territory between this addition and the heart of the
city's business. The next movement is bound to concentrate 'in this center of near future ship-
ping activity. Tidelands, nearly one-half mile farther from city have recently been condemned
for railway purposes, and value fixed by jury at $10,000 per acre. There is over an acre in this
block, a half mile nearer the business center.
Such property in any other city whose industries are developed as those in Tacoma are soon
destined to be, would be worth from $2,000 to $5,000 per lot. There is an unlimited possible
maximum value for this block in the next few years.
This entire block of 12 lots is now offered for $7,800 if sold separate from the other two.
See map on the second inside cover.
BARGAIN TWO; 86 Acres & 12,900.
Summer resort water-front property, with over 3,500 feet of shore line on beach of Magnifi-
cent Puget Sound, and on the direct water passage between Tacoma and Seattle. Abundant
spring water, superb view of Tacoma, the mountains and the wonderful wooded shores of the
waters of the Sound. •
Such water-front is fast being platted and sold in 50 ft. lots to the thousands of people who
are planning for summer homes. In a few years every available waterfront lot between Ta-
coma and Seattle will command amounts far in excess of whole acres value now. Already
hundreds of acres of water-front property command from $250 to $750 per lot.
This tract is offered for $150 per acre. $12,900 for the entire tract if sold separate from the
other two. Relative location may be seen on the map, on the second inside cover.
BARGAIN THREE. 30 Acres Bottom Land.
PDYALLDP INDIAN RESERVATION
Four miles from the center of Tacoma, one-half mile from the river and safe from overflow.
One-half mile from school; on a main county road from Puyallup to Tacoma, all but three-
fourths mile of which is graded.
This reservation was opened for settlement only four years ago. Since that time,- hundreds
of acres have been brought under cultivation. The soil when cleared is marvelously rich in the
growing of hops, celery, fruits and garden produce. Uncleared acre tracts in this valley are
being offered from $300 to $450 per acre. Improved property commands from $500 to $750 per
acre.
Already an interurban electric system is under construction through this reservation. In a
few years a network of rural lines will thread the valley. This 30 acres is offered for $7,500.
See map on the second inside cover.
If any of the above properties are taken separately the price will be as stated, but the three
properties amounting separately to $28,200 are offered for $23,500 cash.
The first deposits of $500 each on the above separate properties, or one deposit of $1,500 on
the combined offer, such deposit placed in escrow with any Tacoma Bank, will hold the prop-
erties for such depositor pending examination of titles and consummation of the deal.
For reliability of parties making this offer, reference may be made to any Tacoma bank.
Address,
A. H. BARNHISEL
1013 A Street, Tacoma, Wash.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser. v
100th Thousand— Selling 2,000 Per Day
Phe Shepherd of the Hills
A Novel by Harold Bell Wright, Author of "THAT PRINTER OF UDELL'S"
Praised by Press and Public Everywhere
"A sterling, good novel"
— Chicago Daily News.
"The characters are excellently por-
trayed"— New York Globe.
"It is filled with laughs and tears, this
beautiful story, and no one can help
laughing1 or crying in turn, if his
heart is right"— Pueblo Chieftain.
"Amidst all the ordinary literature of
the day, it is as a pure, white stone
setup alongadreary roadof unend-
ing monotony" — Buffalo Courier.
"It is a heart-stirring story. A tale to
bring laughter and tears; a story
to be read and read again"
—Grand Rapids Herald.
"One of the best novels written in the
English language for over a decade.
Good luck to the man who can put
upon paper so fine a novel of Amer-
ican life" — Piltsburg Press.
"One of the really good books of the
year. ... A powerful and analyti-
cal study of character"
— Cleveland Plain Dealer.
"The people who move within it are
so human that the reader of their
story will pick them out for like
and dislike, as if he had really
known them in the flesh, rather
than in the pages of a book"
— Chicago Journal.
I Pages. Eight Illustrations by Weddell. 12mo. Cloth. Ornamented Cover. $1.50
Author's biography and portrait, printed on India tint in double-tone (5x7%). with every book
For Sale Wherever Boohs Are Sold
CATALOG FREE
A Guide for Book Buyers. ^^f\f\tff> of all the Publishers.
576 pages. Biz«, 5}f X CM. PC I I M ^% Bargains on every page.
Write us for it today. 1^ \J \J • %4^ Bibles.Periodiculs.etc.
ir mammoth catalog advertises over 25,000 books of all publishers. Every book carried in stock. Orders filled
jmptly. Great reductions. Big savings. Catalog sent, postage prepaid, free on request. A quarter million buyers
itify to the advantages we offer. Every purchaser a satisfied customer. We want your orders. Our prices are
avincing. Unequaled service for handling Public, Private and School Library orders.
lUhhedian THE BOOK SUPPLY COMPANY, E. W. Reynolds, Secy, and Treas. incorporated 1899
rgest Sellers of Books by Mail In the World 266-268 Wabash Avenue, CHICAGO, ILL.
We will not honor requests for catalog from lurge cities like New York, Chicago, Philadelphia, Boston, €'tc.
EVERY LOYAL CALIFORNIAN
AND EVERY VISITOR TO CALIFORNIA
Should possess these two
Romances Typical of the Early Days:
FOP the SOUl Of Rafael, A Romance of Old California
By Marah Ellis Ryan. With 19 Photographic illustrations,
and decorations in tint. Seventh edition. $1.50
A glowing picture of the early Spanish life in California, and one of the few
romances that will live, in which the scenes are laid in California. Intensely
picturesque and dramatic. An unusually attractive gift
The Iron Way, A Tale of the Builders ol the West
By Sarah Pratt Carr. With 4 full-page illustrations, by
John W. Norton. Fifth edition. $1.50
This book is alive with the spirit of the West. Its pages are a faithful record of
the trials and hardships of the "big four " —Crocker, Stanford, Hopkins, and
Huntington, and those under them who helped to girdle the North American continent
AT ALL BOOKSTORES A. c Mcciurg & Co., publishers
On FRIUTS and CEREALS
BORDEN'S
PIONEER BRAND
EVAPORATED MILK
(Unsweetened)
IS DELICIOUS
Borden's Condensed Milk Company,
Est. 1857. " LEADERS OF QUALITY" New York
TACOMA IS THE PITTSBURG OF THE
PACIFIC
Parkland, its prettiest suburb
BEFORE YOU INVEST IN ANYTHING
Write for our beautifully illustrated booklet de-
scriptive of
PARKLAND
THE
only suburb of Tacoma, where you can buy
beautiful, level lots from $25 to $150. Easy
terms. Only twenty-seven minutes from center
of town, on strictly up-to-date electric cars.
These lots have been priced according to the
number of shade trees on them and their dis-
tance from the car line. No lot is more than
half a mile from the car. Churches, schools,
stores and a post office on the addition. The
place is a natural park, having numerous fir,
cedar and oak trees. The soil is as good as can
be found anywhere, and the water unexcelled.
Many are buying four of these lots in order to
get a homesite, 100x100 feet, where they can
raise chickens and grow their own small fruit
and vegetables. If you wish to secure a home
where work is plentiful, wages good and cli-
mate mild, you cannot do better than here in
Tacoma. Elsewhere in this magazine you will
find an exhaustive article on the progress of this
wonderful scenic city.
National Land Co. St^r
411-422 California Building, Tacoma, Wash.
Bld8'
Right Now
Buy Real Estate in or Around
Tacoma. Four New Railroads
Building Into the City
A Beautiful City of 115,000 People. We have City pro-
perty, farm lands and timber lands and can offer yoi
propositions which will make you lots of money withir
the next 12 months. If you want to know something
about Tacoma property write us
H. B. WALTERS & CO.
2i6-i?Bankers Trust Building, Tacoma, Wash.
[he Bank of California
Established 1864
A General Banking Business Transacted
The Bank of California Building
TACOMA,
WASH.
-CUT THIS OUT-
$2,000.00 A YEAR FOR LIFE.
Do you want an income of from $100.00 to $2,000.00 a year for life? If so, return this cou-
pon promptly. You take absolutely no risk of any kind. If upon examination you are not
thoroughly convinced that this is one of the GREATEST OPPORTUNITIES of your life to
secure a steady, permanent income, as long as you live, you are under no obligation to make
any payments whatever. So don't delay.
Name Postofllce
County State
Please reserve shares for me at $1.00 per share. Send me booklet, reports
and all information. If I am fully convinced that it is an enterprise of the soundest character,
and will prove ENORMOUSLY profitable, I will pay for same at the rate of 10 cents per share
per month until fully paid. No more than 1,000 shares reserved for any one person.
ROGERS'- HESSELTINE CO.. EMPIRE BUILDING, SEATTLE, WASH.
References: Bradstreet and Dun Agencies.
Open a Monthly Savings and Invest-
ment* account* with the World's
Great* Bank
"The Golden West"
"The Golden West"
pays higher Interest* than the Banks or
Bonds
One Profitable Investment is Worth "Years of Toil
Are you tired of drudging along in the same old way, day by day, month by month, the
everlasting same old grind? If so, do as the wiee ones in all the history of America have done
— put your investments in virgin fields.
IF WE TOLD YOU HOW
Would you make an investment which will bring you wealth and comfort for life?
The last great American territory where im rnerise returns are possible is the Pacific North-
west. Even this great field is being rapidly taken up. Therefore act TO-DAY.
Never let an opportunity to secure honest wealth pass by unheeded. Men stay poor, not for
lack of opportunity, but from ignoring opportunities. Therefore, investigate every occasion of
wealth. Listen to every man who claims he can make you rich. Then you will miss no op-
portunity. Select, then, the best propositions; some with no element of risk; some with slight
risk, but the prospect of very large profits.
Each one sending in this coupon secures a contract certificate in one of the most profitable
enterprises in the world. Such an offer was never made before, and you cannot afford to
miss it. Every reader of this paper should take advantage of it NOW.
Address ROGERS-HESSELTINE CO., Empire Building, Seattle, Wash.
Commercial Truck Company
Tacoma, Wash,
General Receivers & Forwarders
Reconsignment and Distributing Agents.
Re-enforced concrete storage warehouse, with
side track and good vehicle entrances. Superior
facilities for handling all kind of machinery.
Located in the center of the business and
manufacturing districts.
Furniture moving a specialty.
Office & Warehouse, 2302 to 2312 East E St,
MAIN 706 IND. 1706
Central Park Tacoma
and up including all street improvements
TERMS $5.00 MONTHLY
you will make money by buying lots in BEAUTIFUL CEN-
TRAL PARK, only 10 minutes from Heart of City.
A SPLENDID INVESTMENT. Write us for information.
Gill Home Investment Company
Tacoma
Wash.
vill
TACOMA, the young man's opportunity.
FIDELITY
TRUST COMPANY
BANK
Capital and Surplus
$450,000.00
OFFICERS:— JOHN C. AINSWORTH, President; ARTHUR G. PRICH-
ARD, Cashier; JOHN S. BAKER, Vice President; F. P. HASKELL, JR.,
Assistant Cashier; P. C. KAUFFMAN, Second Vice President; GEORGE
BROWNE, Secretary.
Oldest Trust Company in
the State of Washington
Transacts a General Banking Business
Four railroad lines now building Into TACOMA.
Ix
.: i
ONLY ONE OP NATURE'S DIMPLES AT RE-
DONDO BEACH.
PROPERTY BOUGHT NOW FOR $100, TO $1,000
WILL BE WORTH $400 TO $4,000 IN A VERY
SHORT TIME. THIS IS THE COUNTRY OF QP-
PORTUNITIES. SEND FOR OUR BOOKLET IL-
LUSTRATED IN TWO COLORS, SHOWING VIEWS
OF THIS BEAUTIFUL PROPERTY, AND WITH
FULL, DETAILS.
SOUND TRUSTEE COMPANY
500 Coleman Building, Seattle.
Bsnker Trust Building, Tacoma.
Where Woods and Water Meet
BEAUTIFUL
BEDONDO BEACH
Beauty Spot ot Puget Sound
How Would You Like to Live Here?
WHERE THE AIR IS PURE AND SWEET
LADEN WITH THE PERFUME OF
FLOWERS AND PINES AND THE IN-
VIGORATING SALT OF THE SEA,
WITH ALL THE BATHING, BOATING
AND FISHING YOU WANT ON THE
SHORE OF THE GREATEST WATER-
WAY IN THE WORLD, WITH MAG-
NIFICENT VIEW OF THE SOUND AND
MOUNTAINS, ALL OF THIS WITHIN
35 MINUTES OF SEATTLE AND
TACOMA UPON COMPLETION OF THE
NEW INTERURBAN WHICH WILL
CROSS THIS PROPERTY. YOU CAN
SECURE EXTRA LARGE HOME SITES
HERE FOR AS LITTLE AS $100, PAY-
ABLE MOST ANY WAY YOU DESIRE.
YOU CAN HAVE UNTIL NEXT MAY
TO DECIDE WHETHER YOU WANT
TO KEEP THE PROPERTY OR NOT.
IF YOU DO NOT WANT IT, AND GIVE
US NOTICE BETWEEN MAY 1ST AND
10TH, 1908, WE WILL RETURN YOUR
MONEY. WITH INTEREST THEREON
AT RATE OF TEN PER CENT PER
ANNUM.
TACOMA, the young man's opportunity.
Tacoma Exchange & Mart
767 South C. Street, Tacoma, Wash.
Will locate you in any
business. We have a
list of business oppor-
tunities for your
approval.
A
D
G
T
I 0
N
E
E
R
I
IN
G
A few choice homes and building lots
that may interest you.
Auction Sales conducted in any part of
the country.
END 25 cents
for "Tacoma
New Herald Annual,1908,"
now in press— the hand-
somest publication issued
in the Pacific Northwest.
Published every Christ-
mas.
THE BELL PRESS
Printers and Publishers
TACOMA, WASH.
Chas. Mecham Co., inc.
Real
Estate
Investments
Write us for information regarding
Tacoma property
ttt
OFFICES
Suite 613 Bankers Trust Building
1021 South Eleventh Street
26th and Proctor St.
MAIN
Yakima Apple Lands
&60 Per Acre
I have an entire section under the Tieton
ditch platted into ten-acre tracts.
You know the financial side of the big red
apple.
The rush is now at high tide for the Promised
Land. Buyers are in Yakima this fall from
every State in the union. Before spring the
choicest tracts will have passed into the pos-
session of people who will not care to sell with-
out making a handsome profit; if they sell at
all. I have an entire section with an elevation
of 1,500 feet above the sea level and located but
eight miles from North Yakima. It is under the
Tieton ditch, a ditch being built by the Recla-
mation Service of the United States Govern-
ment. I can sell this land and give ten years'
time in which to pay for it at $125.00 per acre.
William M. Wilson Company
DU/^MCC ( Sl7
PHONES MAIN 842
TACOMA, WASH.
10th and A Sts.
Tacoma Hotel.
Four railroad lines now building into TACOMA.
xi
Arnott Woodroofe, A. R. I. B. A,
ARCHITECT
Telephones: M 3235 Sunset
A 3235 Home 314 FIDELITY BLDG.
TACOMA, WASH.
Located in the Heart of Shopping
and Theater District
SOME FEATURES.
Absolutely Fireproof. Com-
posed of Steel, Concrete and
Marble.
Twelve Stories High. Afford-
ing Marine View.
Royal Hungarian Band. [All
String].
Holland House Chef.
Manager of Dining Room
from Monte Carlo.
Needle Spray Shower Baths
in Marble Attached to Rooms.
Library for Use of Guests.
Tiled Kitchen and Enamel Adjuncts for Your Inspec-
tion.
Office of Both Telegraph Companies.
Mail Depository on each floor. [Mail chute]
English Grill for Gentlemen. Elaborately Decorated
Cafe for Ladies.
Buffet— The Gem of the Pacific Coast— We Leave
You to Judge— and Twenty New and Distinctive Fea-
tures That You Will See and Approve.
Special Box and Hair Mattresses from Marshall Field
& Co. [His name your guarantee]
Two names have been suggested as appropriate.
They are THE HOLLAND HOUSE OF THE
WEST and THE GIBRALTAR OF SEATTLE.
You are to be the judge— if they are fitting.
ROOMS FROM $1.00 UP.
lacoma
The City of Opportunities
I make a specialty of handling hotels and
rooming houses. Can offer you some splendid
propositions. If you contemplate buying or sell-
ing, consult me. This is a paying business in
Tacoma. ,
F, L YOPST
216 Bankers' Trust Bldg. TACOMA, WASH.
Freiberg's Cloak and Suit
House
Everything we carry is strictly up-to-date and be-
fore you buy elsewhere we invite you to call and
see us.
Freiberg's Cloak & Suit House
937 C Street Tacoma, Wash.
xll
TACOMA, the young man's opportunity.
Hotel Washington Annex
Seattle's newest and most modern
hotel. ^ Right in the heart of
Seattle. Absolutely
Fireproof.
Elegantly furnished
Service unexcelled
Conducted on both
European and Am-
erican plan. FINE
MUSIC. Write for
booklet.
2nd] Avenue and Stewart Street,
Seattle
A. P. Johnson, M. D.
Office 938 Pacific Avenue, over
Malstrom's Drug Store
Residence 701 S. L Street
TACOMA, WASH.
Office
Home A 1957
Sunset Main 1957
TELEPHONES
Residence
Home A 3145
Sunset Main 7563
Lucile Shoes for Women
The Best &3.00
Shoe on the
Market.
When a woman's thoughts turn to buying shoes there
are four essentials that should be considered— Com-
fort, Style, Durability and Price. The aim of this pro-
gressive store is to get Footwear combining these four
qualities. When you buy a pair of"LUCILES" you
are guaranteed the best shoe satisfaction and at a
moderate price. Per pair $3.00.
Send for our mail order catalog — a postal card will
bring it by return mail.
RHODES BROTHERS
Tacoma, Wash.
Many Opportunities in
and Around Tacoma =
for You
We have some FINE FARM LANDS
ACREAGE TIMBER LANDS AND C
PROPERTY for sale. If you will give us you
name and address, we will be glad to give yoi
all the information you desire. Tacoma is an
ideal place for investment. We can furnish you
with the best of references.
J. H. Klinkenberg 8 Company
416 Bankers' Trust Bldg.
TACOMA, WASH
Four railroad lines now building Into TACOMA.
xlli
DeKOVEN
HALL
A SELECT HOME BOARDING
SCHOOL FOR BOYS
Located on the prairie eight miles south of
Tacoma.
Pure water, good drainage, wholesome food
and out -door exercise contribute to the health
of the pupils.
:\Ijdern building.
Prepares for college or business life.
The instruction is thorough and personal.
Located on two electric lines.
For circular, address
D. S. Pulford
Telephone 7977 ISouth Tacoma, Wash.
ALBERT
GRAY
Baritone Soloist,
Teacher and
Coach
Tacoma.
Many years a resident student in Paris.
REFERS TO
Professors of Paris Conservatoire; Baritones of
Paris Grand Opera and the Opera Comique;
Artists of the Metropolitan Opera, New York;
and members of Boston Symphony Orchestra.
DO YOU WANT TO
BUY A BEAUTIFUL
1240 ACRE FARM ONLY
12 MILES FROM OLYM-
PIA, THE CAPITAL OF
WASHINGTON?
I have one which I will sell for $20,000, one-
half cash, balance three years. This is an ideal
farm, good house and barn, also splendid grain
houses and one good log house, one-half mile
on the Lake front, and four and one-half miles
on River bottom. 200 acres cleared and under
cultivation. This is an opportunity seldom
offered. Write me for particulars.
J. H. Klinkenberg
416 Bankers Trust Bldg,
Tacoma, Washington.
Something
Special
in
Seattle
We have a few LOTS overlooking beautiful
Lake Washington and the Cascade Mountains,
only 45 minutes from the city, right in Seattle's
most beautiful residence district, near Laurel-
hurst. Lots here have sold for as much as
$17,000 each. These lots, which we are offering
you, are near the University and Exposition
Grounds. Here is an opportunity if you want a
real bargain. Lots $400 to $800. One-third
cash. Write me for full particulars.
The George B. Evans Co.
616-617 Marion Building, SEATTLE, WASH.
TACOMA, the young man's opportunity.
COAL MINES
TO BE OPENEDAT ONCE
Take
a
This
At a recent meeting of the directors of the Tsar.away-Roslyn Lumber & Coal Co., an 8 PER
iENT DIVIDEND WAS DECLARED.. They also placed fifty thousand shares of Treasury
Stock on the market, for the purpose of raisin3 funds to build two more saw mills, to develop
their COAL MINES and for other improvements.
The company owns 2,580 acres of real estate, of which 1,000 ACRES ARE COAL LAND:
86,000,000 feet of timber, two saw mills and two shingle mills, over one million feet of lumber,
one and a half million shingles, donkey engine, tugboat, two stores, etc.
The par value of the stock is $5.00; but for a limited time the company will sell 50,000 shares
0 per share; with the company's written guarantee that the investment will pay the in-
vestor 8 per cent dividend, payable quarterly at the main office in Seattle.
Positively there will be no more stock sold at these prices.
Write us or come in and see us at once. This investment will double in twelve months' time.
MAIN OFFICE,
316-317 GLOBE BLOCK,
SEATTLE.
BRANCH OFFICES,
216 Bankers' Trust
Bldg., Tacoma.
Long Lake and Silver
Lake, Washington.
THE
Teanaway-Roslyn Lumber & Coal Co.
S. A. MILTON, Pres.
S. P. WESTFIELD, Sect'y-Treas.
yo^wa'nt* ^ '"" inf°rmati°n' We are responsible P«°P'e, and can give you all the references
Four railroad lines now building Into TACOMA.
Pacific Traction Co.
Operating 1 7 miles of scenic electric railway
in and out of Tacoma. The choicest residence
districts lie along this line. It* is the direct*
route to the beautiful prairie country on the
way to Steilacoom, Gravelly and American
Lakes and t*he only line t»o Skeilacoom Asy-
lum for the insane.
It gives tourists the best views of city, moun-
tain and the beautiful chain of fresh water lakes
south of the city. Cars leave Ninth and Com-
merce Streets every 20 minutes.
Vashon College
and Academy
BURTON, VASHON ISLAND, WASHINGTON
A Military School, 8 Miles from Tacoma. Dormitories for BOYS, YOUNG MEN
and YOUNG WOMEN.
MAINTAINS Lower School,
Academic,
Commercial,
Musical Departments.
Attains the highest* efficiency in all lines. Away from the cities,
yet> easy of access, it» is
The BEST LOCATED SCHOOL IN THE NORTHWEST
16th year opened September I Oth. For catalogue and information address
W. G. Parkes, M. S.
MANAGER
TACOMA, the young man's opportunity.
Wynkoop Vaughn Company
Tacoma's Leading Drug Store
WE CARRY A LARGE LINE OF LEATHER GOODS,
LADIES' AND GENTLEMEN'S UMBRELLAS, TOI-
LET ARTICLES OF ALL KINDS. BEFORE PUR-
CHASING YOUR CHRISTMAS GIFTS LOOK OVER
OUR BEAUTIFUL STOCK. YOU WILL SURELY
FIND WHAT YOU WANT HERE.
The Business of the
Davies Electric Corporation
Has kept up with the growth of Tacoma. A
few years ago a room 20x30 was all we need-
ed. On January 1st we will be in our new
four story building and will occupy every inch
of the four stories ourselves.
That tells the whole story.
Pioneer Plating Company
We do all kinds of plating and
guarantee satisfaction. Let us
make your silverware look like
new. Write or call
317 1-2 SOUTH 13tl)ST., TACOMA, WASH.
Hotel Donnelly
Tacoma, Wash:
EUROPEAN PLAN
Rooms single or en suite, with or without private bath.
Famous for banquets, dinners and after-theater parties-
The only restaurant in the city that makes Oyster Pan
Roasts from the recipe of the originator of the famous
Doane Olympia Pan Roast.
MERCHANTS' LUNCH SERVED IN THE GRILL
ROOM, 35c. 11:30 to 2 o'CLOCK
General Repairs on all Electrical
Work and Elevators
Armatures and Machine Work Made a Specialty
A, Z, Smith & Co,
Agents for Otis Elevators
Motors for Sale or Rent
921 Commerce Street Tacoma, Washington
Telephone Main 7553
Ind. A 2553
Annex Cafe
Most popular place in Tacoma to dine and
the only Cafe in the City with private dining
room in connection. Call and see us.
J, W, BLASE, Proprietor
908-10 COMMERCE STREET, TACOMA
Phone Main 862. A 1466
Maitland - Purdy Go,, Inc.
Electrical Contractors
SATISFACTION GUARANTEED
A, M, Richards & Co,
INCORPORATED
REAL ESTATE, LOANS, MINING
Specialties: TACOMA BARGAINS for out of town
customers. RICH MINES — subject to rigid inspection
508-50x3 Bankers Trust Building, TACOMA
734 St. Helens Ave.
Phone Main 809
Tacoma, Wash.
W, G, Peters & Go,
REAL ESTATE LOANS INSURANCE
401-2-3 CHAMBER OF COMMERCE BLDG.
TACOMA, WASH.
Telephone Red 5692.
Four railroad lines now building into TACOMA.
xvil
Phones, Sunset, Main 4074; Independent 936.
T I /^vTT1 I C« r1 M r1 r» European Plan.
HOTEL SENER c-
(Flatiron Building.)
4th Ave., Pine St. and Westlake Boulevard,
SEATTLE, Wash.
New modern fire-proof building, located in the
center of the retail district. Long distance
phones in every room. Every room faces a
main street.
•Newly and finely furnished rooms by the day,
week or month. Rooms 50c. and up. Telephone
Main 3858.
HOTEL ST. FRANCIS
Peter Olesen, Prop.
Two blocks from N. P. Depot. Car lines pass
within 100 feet of the St. Francis, giving our
patrons an opportunity to quickly reach any part
of the city in a short time.
308 So. 17th St. TACOMA, WASH.
J. E. Me F A R L A N D
STOCKS
BONDS
Telephone
Main 244 3
230 Provident Bldg.
Tacoma, Wash.
S. D. PIERRE
Tailoring Establishment
Ladies and Gents Clothing Cleaned, Dyed, Altered and
Repaired. Pressing Done on Short Notice. Telephone
Orders Promp'ly Attended to.
1129 So. C Street
TACOMA, WASH.
Potted Plants for Christmas
50
Cents £ Will Buy
COIN
OR
STAMPS
YOUR CHOICE OF THE FOLLOWING
100
Cyclamen, Primroses, Bulbius Plants,
large assortment of Rhododendron,
Azaleas and other ornamental stock.
Orders promptly filled.
NORTH WESTERN FLORAL GO,
Tacoma, Wash.
50
FINE QUALITY CALLING
CARDS, neatly printed.
50 SHEETS GOOD NOTE PAPER
with name or initials printed.
DANCE PROGRAMS (16
dances), printed and punched
for pencils.
= 100 MILK TICKETS (pint or quart)
on Best Ticket Board.
Many other articles of printing for all users
can be satisfactorily and economically ordered
by mail. Samples and prices furnished for 5
cents in stamps. Always send cash with order.
ACORN PRESS,
730 Pacific Ave. TACOMA, WASH.
TAGOMA HOTEL
. TACOMA, WASH.
Overlooking Commencement Bay. En-
tirely remodeled. Every modern con-
venience. European plan.
Andrus-Cushing Lighting
Fixture Company
DESIGNERS AND INSTALLERS OF
Gas, Electric and Combination Fixtures
We have the largest and best assorted line in
the Northwest to select from at reasonable
prices.
ANDRUS-GUSHING LIGHTING FIXTURE COMPANY
(Successors to The Ryer Fixture Co.)
734 St. Helens Ave. TACOMA, WASH.
SB. E. Paul, President and Manager. H. A. Paul,
Treasurer. Telephone Main 5149.
Tacoma Ornamental Iron
Manufacturers of architectural iron, wire and
brass work, elevator enclosures, bank, office and
counter railing, fences, etc.
Cor. 21st and C Sts. TACOMA, WASH.
ORIENTAL RUGS
Beautiful Christmas presents. The only ex-
clusive Oriental rug dealer in the State. We
are absolutely HEADQUARTERS. Call and see
our beautiful line.
K. J. PHILIPPOS,
106 Union St., bet. 1st and 2d avenues,
SEATTLE.
The Silent Salesman
I can help you sell anything. If you want to
reach the people, let me make you a price per
1,000 on IMITATION LETTERS from your
original. I will make and mail them to your list
— the cost will surprise you. Write me to-day.
F. L. YOPST, Manager F. L. Y. Copy Company,
216 Bankers' Trust Bid. TACOMA, WASH.
Chas. S. Rosin
CARD ENGRAVING
SEALS AND DIES
92! COMMERCE
TACOMA, WASH.
xviii
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
C-W ELECTRIC
MOTORS and GENERATORS
Are Kept in Stock in SAN FRANCISCO
The Celebrated C-W Direct Current Motor, 1-20 to .5 77. P. See Bulletin 788.
Manufacturers, Printers, Central Station Managers, Architects and
Contractors know the importance of getting high grade
electrical machinery QUICKLY
CROCKER-WHEELER COMPANY
Alternating and Direct Current Electrical Machinery
Works: Ampere. N. J.
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Miss Ina Coolbrith, who has been pronounced the "sweetest note in California
literature/' has written the following poem, "Alcatraz," for the New Overland
Monthly. Miss Coolbrith was one of the first and earliest contributors to Overland.
The poem well shows that Miss Coolbrith's hand has not lost its cunning, nor have
the passing years dimmed her poetic perceptions. Miss Coolbrith's present home
overlooks Alcairaz, and from her study window she regarded the grim island whilst
writing the poem.
Incidentally, on November 27th, in recognition of Miss Goolbrith's services in be-
half of Western literature, an author's reading will be held at the Fairmont Hotel,
San Francisco. The reading is being arranged by Mrs. Gertrude Atherton, Mr.
Charles Sedgwick AiJcen, Dr. H. J. Stewart and other members of the Bohemian
Club.
ALCATRAZ*
BY INA COOLBRITH
A pearl-foam at his feet
The waters leap and fall;
The sentry treads his beat
Upon thy gun-girt wall.
Bronzed of visage, he,
Stern, resolute as Fate;
Guard of the inner sea —
Grim watcher of the Gate.
Born of some mighty throe
From earth's abysmal deep,
When aeons long ago
The Dragon stirred in sleep.
Yet over him, merrily,
The winds blow East, blow West:
The gulls about him fly,
The fog-king wreathes his crest.
All day sea-melodies
Blend with the oarsman's stroke,
In the Fleet of the Butterflies,
The craft of the fisher-folk.
The boom of the sunset gun,
The flash of the beacon-light,
Leaping a warning sun
To passing ships of night.
And the fleets of all the world
Salute him as they pass —
Viking of seas empearled,
The warrior, Alcatraz.
*The Island Fort of San Francisco Bay.
HON. EDWARD ROBESON TAYLOR, MAYOR OP SAN FRANCISCO.
DECEMBER, 1907
No. 6 OVERL?W
)NTHLY
t "K^rte
Vol. L
HON. EDWARD ROBESON TAYLOR
BY PETER ROBERTSON
(Mr. Robertson is a life-long friend of Dr. Taylor.)
The election of Edward Robeson Taylor as Mayor of San Francisco, and William
H. Langdon, District Attorney of San Francisco City and County, was an event
of international interest and of national importance. Not only is San Francisco
the cleanest city in the United States to-day, but boodlers in every city in the
country are hesitating for the fear that they, too, will be caught. Over and above
all, the election proved that when any moral issue is left to the judgment of the
American voter, and he is not confused, he will vote for good Government, and will
prove that this country is still a democracy. The election of Messrs. Taylor and
Langdon was made possible by the Union Labor voters of San Francisco. The
issue of the last election was plain: Had the boodlers to be prosecuted? Had he
been elected Mayor, P. H. McCarthy wbuld have continued the disgraceful admin-
istration in the name of Organized Labor, and ivith his man Hagerty on the Police
Board, he would have been practically head of the Police Commission.
The election of Taylor and Langdon in San Francisco but presages a greater vic-
tory in the State. The people of California will throw off the yoke of the machine
in the next election.
0 THINK of Dr. Ed-
ward E. Taylor is to
recall my first arrival
in San Francisco
thirty-two years ago.
We had heard of Cali-
fornia's climate, its
sunshine and its flow-
ers, its unique character, the kindliness
and free-heartedness of its people. Truly
the sun shone on the Golden Gate as we
steamed in, but the sand-dunes that
seemed like billows along the shore hardly
looked like a garden, and we were Aased
to the wharf by one of the blinding fogs
that even now sometimes cast a doubt into
the mind of the stranger from seaward.
I don't think any of us newcomers were
very much exhilarated by the first impres-
sions California gave us, as to climate,
but all those little disappointments passed
away in the revelation of San Francisco,
still thrilled with the atmosphere of the
days of '"49. The kindliness and free-
heartedness were there, and the spell fell
on one, that curious fascination which lin-
gered till the 18th of April, 1907, and
which was, 1 think, the only feature of
that, era which was not entirely burned
away. One of the first greetings I met
with was from Dr. Edward B. Taylor,
then a leading lawyer. Governor Haiglit'
whose name had previously headed the
firm, had died, if I remember, some time
540
OVEELAKD MONTHLY.
before, but Dr. Taylor had as partner
George Haight, the son of the Governor,
now a very prominent lawyer in Berkeley.
I had occasion to see Dr. Taylor frequently
on legal matters, and knowing him to be
a singularly alert, clear-headed and acute
member of the legal fraternity, who
thought rapidly, but acted cautiously, who
seemed to take in all sides of a question
most comprehensively, in fact an excep-
tionally practical man, I remember with
what surprise, as I came to know him bet-
ter, I found he had below it all the keen-
est, most sensitive understanding, appre-
ciation and love of poetry. There was a
charm, even in his legal discussions, that
came from a vivacious, excitable tempera-
ment. In talking over a case, he was al-
ways earnest and emphatic, but he was
ready to admit any suggestion that might
appeal to him. Mentality was always
dominant, and I don't think I ever met a
lawyer who could or would give a client
such a frank and lucid insight into his
own case. A liberal, kindly lawyer, a
man whose word convinced his client that
he had earned his fee ; a lawyer with whom
his client always shook hands after he had
paid him, with perfect satisfaction.
Lawyers are quite frequently literary,
some brilliantly literary, but whether their
profession hardens them as to poetry, and
takes most of the real sentiment out of
them, or the bent of the legal mind is
away from all those trivialities, few have
ever combined legal acumen and practical
understanding of public government with
true poetic feeling, and the love of every-
thing that is beautiful in nature or in
mankind. I have known lawyers who had
a strong sentimental turn, but that has
generally been a pure matter of profes-
sional equipment and only pumped up for
the benefit of juries. It may have been
that Dr. Taylor found me sympathetic to
his love of poetry, and his appreciation of
all great literature. At least he opened
his mind at that time to me. Widely read
and a man who read wisely, it was a great
pleasure to hear him discuss and converse.
The best authors, had found a congenial
place in his memory, and his own thoughts
ranged with them and from them in the
higher field of the intellectual. He leaned
toward the poetic from his own keen sense
of beauty in thought and deed. The fas-
cination of the Power Omnipotent in
everything awakened his highest fancy;
he could dream in his leisure hours, and
loved to set his visions in graceful words,
with the ring of strong reason and intel-
lect in them. Yet he could go back to his
law books, set that acute practical legal
division of his brain to work with the most
dry as dust facts, and argue as close to
the case as if he had no poetry in him.
I am writing of him as he impressed me
in the earlier days of our acquaintance.
Since then, he has only developed his var-
ied and brilliant faculties more and more.
His love of poetry has led him to do a
work which has made him known, and will
keep him known, at least as long as the
sonnet lives. The sonnet appealed to him
long years ago; he has given many fine
examples of that most difficult, graceful
form of chalice in which poetic thought
lives longest; but he has done a great ser-
vice in translating Heredia, a task which
is all the more worthy when finished suc-
cessfully, because it is most delicate and
aesthetic. That kind of translation is
generally mere adaptation or paraphrase.
Dr. Taylors is transition pure and sim-
ple into graceful, forcible and expressive
English.
There is not much poetry, it is true, in
politics, and I daresay a man who was
merely a poet would find the City Hall but
a poor empyrean, but Dr. Taylor is not the
least likely to soar from the dome on Pe-
gasus. His poetic taste is but the inner
feeling of the man, and the enjoyment of
his leisure hours. His poetry is not of the
kind that leads him into wild vagaries of
the imagination ; it has that beneficial in-
fluence which keeps his views of life high
and pure, and his sense of integrity un-
conquerable. He has intellectual sound-
ness ; in fact, that is clearly in evidence in
all those compositions which have now be-
come far more familiar than the work of
almost any California poet. No man is
made less useful in public life, even in the
most prosaic of municipal Government, by
having a taste for and. a knowledge of the
higher literature. We have never been
overloaded with that kind of thing in May-
ors of San Francisco. So long have we
been ruled by men, from the absolutely
illiterate to the superficially educated, we
have forgotten that men of brains may be
HON. EDWARD ROBESON TAYLOR.
541
able to govern. That is one of the reasons
why the election of Dr. Taylor has awak-
ened unusual interest in the country.
Everywhere in Government — except an oc-
casional President — we have had politi-
cians, mere politicians, at the head, and in
the tail, too, of public affairs. San Fran-
cisco has startled the East by absolutely
daring to elect as Mayor a man who has
written poetry. True, the fact that he is
a singularly able lawyer, a man of wide
experience of life, who^ias been associated
with many important institutions, has not
been made so well known.
Every petty politician has proclaimed
his love of "Dear Old San Francisco,"
pledged himself to resuscitate the old
Californian spirit; to restore our city to
its pristine glory. How many of them
know anything of "dear old San Fran-
cisco?" Even if they were born there,
most of them have no idea at all of its
pristine glory. Dr. Taylor can speak feel-,
ingly about old San Francisco. He under-
stands the Californian spirit; he has
known the men who led it out of its first
tent stage, has lived in and through its
stages of development till the fire of 1906
burned it back to a tent stage again. He,
in fact, far better than these later politi-
cians, knows what of that old Californian
spirit is needed to restore San Francisco
as it was before the disaster. He has car-
ried from the old days nothing but that
spirit, which, while it led in the growth
and development of the city, gave still that
unique fascination to it which made it one
of the most attractive cities in the world.
It was one of my first impressions of
Dr. Taylor, thirty-two years ago, that,
with all the open-heartedness, liberality of
spirit, kindliness and sympathy, which
were peculiarly the features of the '49er,
he had none of the rougher qualities which
distinguished many of the pioneers. He
was, in truth, especially fitted to "grow
up" with San Francisco, and he is to-day
one of the very few of those of the older
time who could at this crisis take control
of the stricken city.
The '49ers have fallen back broken-
hearted over the fate of their well-loved
city. Nobody has quite expressed the
depth of the old San Franciscan's sorrow.
It is impossible to do it. There were few
left, indeed, to fall back. Out of those
who came later, and were young thirty-
two years ago, one could hardly pick out
another who has kept his spirit, his energy
and his enthusiastic temperament as well
as Dr. Taylor. I saw him but a few davs
ago, and^s I looked at him, I could :•
believe .that those years had made any
difference in him. The -same activity of
body, the same activity of mind, the same
enthusiasm, with his eyes sparkling, his
voice ringing, his determination as virile,
as I had ever known it.
This article is headed "a personal ap-
preciation," but if I could qualify it by
any criticism of Dr. Taylor, it would not
in the least affect the character of the man
or the conviction of his special fitness for
the present crisis. If ever there was a
case of the hour bringing the man, this
need of San Francisco will be a historic
example.
I have often thought during the last
18 months that had there been such a
man at the head of affairs in San Fran-
cisco on that fated 18th of April, our
afflicted city would have been spared much
of her later misfortune. There will for-
ever be something strangely inexplicable
about the fact that at that time Eugene E.
Schmitz, proclaiming his regeneration, his
determination that his life began on the
18th of April, hailed with loud paeans of
praise from the press, and saluted with
high respect by the whole community,
should, a year later, be in jail charged with
grafting, even while he was proclaiming
the loudest. What will be the end of all
this miserable muddle in the courts nobody
can tell. Heney may not have stopped
grafting finally, even by the conviction of
those prominent captains of industry, but
he has at least killed it for the present by
making it possible to elect an incorrupt-
ible Mayor in Dr. Edward R. Taylor, and
enabling him to gather round him a board
of Supervisors of the highest stamp of
honesty.
DOCTOR TAYLOR-SEVENTY YEARS
YOUNG
THE MAYOR OF
BY L. B. JEROME
HEKE IS always some
crisis in the affairs of
men, nations, States
or cities when one
man who perhaps has
been predestined from
the beginning to fill
a certain place in the
world, and to do a certain part toward
making history, steps quietly to the front.
Napoleon was a mighty instance of this
truism. Lincoln filled a similar niche,
though playing a widely different role.
The parts of these men were of national
interest, but there have been and are those
who, hurling themselves into civic
breeches, have played their parts to the
full as well and intelligently as the ac-
tors on a larger stage. Such a man is
Doctor Edward Eobeson Taylor, the
11,000 plurality Mayor of San Francisco.
Like most men who have left their
mark on the communities in which they
dwell. Doctor Taylor made his way from
small beginnings. Born 69 years ago, on
September 24, 1838, in the little village
of Springfield, Illinois, the son of Henry
West Taylor and Mary Thaw Taylor, he
was educated at Kemper School, Boon-
ville, Missouri. Leaving school, the lad,
even then a thoughtful, observant boy for
his years, with naturally refined tastes
and a deep love of the exquisite and beau-
tiful in art and literature, was placed in
the printing office of the Boonville Ob-
server. Here he remained until his de-
parture from Boonville in 1862 for Cali-
fornia, which was destined to become the
field of his greatest efforts and achieve-
ments along widely differing lines.
In California the boy studied medicine.
He was graduated with honors from
Toland College, now the medical depart-
ment of the University of California. He
studied medicine as he studied all things
which interested him, and which he
thought worth while — with all his mind
and strength. An amusing story is re-
lated of his medical career regarding his
knack for the practical side of therapeu-
tics. ,Mrs. Lane, the wife of Dr. Levi
C. Lane, of Cooper College renown, once
remarked of Dr. Taylor :
"The only reason that he doesn't make
a better doctor is that if he had to make
a poultice for a patient, he'd take off his
coat and go at it in a way that would scare
the patient to death."
While acting in the capacity of private
secretary to Governor Haight of Califor-
nia, which post he filled from 1867 to
1871, he studied law so successfully that
in January, 1872, he was admitted to the
bar of the Supreme Court of California.
In 1879, seven years later, he was ad-
mitted to practice in the Supreme Court
of the United States. He was a mem-
ber of the Board of Freeholders, from
1886 to 1887, and of the fifth Board of
Freeholders in 1898, to frame the exist-
ing charter for San Francisco. Dr. Tay-
lor has been a member of the Board of
Trustees of the San Francisco Public
Library since 1866, a member of the
Board of Trustees of the San Francisco
Law Library, a member of the Bar Asso-
ciation, of the State of California Medi-
cal Society and of the Bohemian Club.
He has written papers on medical and
legal topics, which have been published
in various journals, and which have ex-
cited marked interest wherever read.
Such is the list of attainments and
accomplishments of the man at whom all
the world looks to-day as the leading fig-
ure in the rehabilitation of a ruined city.
Not esteemed alone for his integrity and
worth, but for the finer qualities of heart
and head, he is a commanding figure at
the head of municipal affairs. When the
campaign for the election of a Mayor for
the city was on, it was amazing to watch
the vivacity and energy which this man
of more than three score years put into
his work. Tireless in doing, resourceful
in thinking, daring in action, quick to
decide, he was the candidate to whom
all classes and parties felt strongly
543
drawn. The mere sight of the headlights
of his big red machine dashing over the
hills on the way to some political meeting
where he was expected to -speak, would
raise a cheer, sometimes even from oppos-
ing parties. The man's personality sounds
a dominant note. It is compelling, at-
tractive, winning, impelling, charming.
The story of the bluff old Irishwoman who
hushed a group of rowdies behind her at
one of the campaign meetings with : "Take
shame to yerselves. Can't ye be a gintle-
man loike him that's talkin' to yez?"
showed fairly the influence, the nameless
something which a man gently born and
bred will invariably exert on those who
feel, but who do not understand the rea-
son of the power. It is the case of the
old French aristocracy over again. With
Dr. Taylor it is inevitably "noblesse ob-
lige," and the people in their way feel
and know that the best will be done for
them by one who has done his best in
everything he has undertaken in life.
Ct is somewhat surprising in this age
of considering the means sufficient unto
the end that a man should be found will-
ing to stand before his world and let his
political enemies say what they will. Many
a man blameless before the world would
hesitate before casting the searchlight of
absolute truth over his own nature. Dr.
Taylor did this as honestly and as sim-
ply as he does everything. So, when the
only derogatory statement that could be
made concerning him was that he was
"old," Doctor Taylor retorted with ex-
uberant feeling, "With Oliver Wendell
Holmes, I am seventy years young." To
tell the truth, "Old Dr. Taylor" is one of
the youngest old men on the Pacific
Coast.
The man does not know the meaning
of the word age. One has but to look at
him to realize it.
The shaggy, leonine mane of gray
hair, the keen, intelligent eye, the
poise of the scholarly head, all betoken
activities used and prolonged far beyond
the average limit of the normal man. He
told the cheering crowds that assembled
night after night to greet him on the cam-
paign platform, "I was born young, and
I intend to remain young to the very end.
When I can't stay young any longer, then
I want to leave." And it is no mere fig-
ure of speech with him. He is willing
and ready to accept all the duties and re-
sponsibilities of four men — four young,
strong, clever and busy men.
And he does it. When the nomination
for Mayor was tendered him and accepted,
he did. not abate one jot of the heavy
duties already resting on his vigorous
shoulders. Dean of the Hastings Law
College since 1899, vice-president of
Cooper Medical College (and member of
a host of other organizations, he fulfills
his multifarious duties at each one of
these institutions, and manages to extract
the best out of life, and his friends, as
he passes along life's highway in a manner
that many a hurried and lesser man ob-
serves with an envious eye.
But the Mayor of San Francisco has
a secret, and it is this which preserves the
clearness of his eye, the elasticity and
vigor of his 69 years' old frame. Unlike
the people among whom he has made his
home, and whom he has learned to love
with an unswerving loyalty, he is never
known to hurry. System is his watch-
word, and he believes firmly in the aphor-
ism that there is a time for everything.
Paradoxical as it may seem, he also re-
fuses to put things off. "In delay there
lies no plenty," he will quote, when urged
to defer some things which he feels have
arrived at their appointed time. A well-
balanced and orderly house of the mind
is evidenced in this theory. At all events,
Dr. Taylor puts it well into his 'daily
work, and he does not let affairs lag.
The affection he evinces for his adopted
city is humanly real, and there is no af-
fectation in his declaration that he loves
the city's sights and sounds. Like all large
characters, he is prone to act on impulse,
and the emotional side of his nature is
always receptive to vivid or striking im-
pressions. During the campaign a friend
remonstrated with him for expressing his
affection for the city in terms such as a
poet might use, but which were considered
by some listeners as inadmissible on a
political platform. "I can't help it," was
the doctor's reply to this. "I do love San
Francisco, and when I get out there on
the platform I just have to say so. There
is no use trying not to."
Well, the people understood him, and
that is what the Mayor cares most about.
544
OVEELAND MONTHLY.
He believes in perfect frankness, too.
Having nothing to conceal, he is quite un-
able to perceive why he should suddenly
be called upon to qualify for the diplo-
matic service. That is one thing about
him that every one may feel sure of. He
will get the truth; it may not always be
palatable, but it will be the truth — plain,
unadulterated, but dependable. Even when
frankness came close to recklessness in the
late campaign, he gave the people what
they expected from him — "the truth, the
whole truth and nothing but the truth."
"With his innumerable duties rushing at
him from all sides, he still finds some few
hours of leisure. These are spent in the
study of his quiet California street home
among his books, "those friends who never
grow old," and his few intimate friends
who do not tire him. Even here he is a
"glutton for work," as one of these inti-
mates phrases it. He has spent long hours
producing books, volumes, poems, musinga
of his own, and one and all bear the seal
of an inner nature known alone to God.
Dr. Taylor has written "Visions and
Other Verses," and "Into the Light," a
poem full of exquisite thought and rarely
refined expression. Lovely bits from the
volume of "Visions" are "Fancy's Child-
ren," "San Francisco," a strong and stir-
ring image of the earthquake and fire, "A
Winter's Day," "The Dream of Long
Ago," "Symphony," "Beauty" and "The
Music of Words." "Into the Light," pub-
lished by Elder & Shepard, was issued
about a week before the disaster. When
Robertson, the publisher of his volume of
"Visions," realized that nearly the whole
of the edition had been destroyed, he sug-
gested that a volume comprising excerpts
from the two volumes, of which 12 were
lost, should be issued, and the result is
a book called "Selected Verses," which is
a composite reproduction of the two de-
stroyed. This volume is dedicated to his
two sons, Edward De Witt Taylor and
Henry Huntly Taylor, who, although
grown men and engaged in business for
themselves for years, are still referred to
by their father as "the boys." Dr. Tay-
lor has also made a translation of the
"Sonnets of Heredia," a form of verse
of which he is extremely fond.
In reference to the poet nature some
harsh remarks have been made tend-
ing to assure those unbiased in the matter
that "once a poet, always a poet," and —
nothing else. It needs no verbal retort
to disprove this rash statement. Exam-
ple and precedent are better than any pre-
cept, and Dr. Taylor has a long list of
honorable and honored names of writers
and poets have preceded him into the offi-
cial and political arena. Some one re-
marks that there is no real reason why
a poet should not make a good adminis-
trator, and the same authority declares
that "the brilliant success of American
men of letters abroad as evidenced in the
early appointments of Joel Barlow, minis-
ter to France, and Washington Irving,
minister to Spain, is a literary tradition.
If more evidence were needed, the diplo-
matic service points to Motley, Taylor and
Lowell, while the mention of the consular
service brings instantly to mind the names
of Hawthorne, W. D. Howells, Bret Harte
and others. It is related that Walt Whit-
man once occupied some minor official
post; but when it was discovered that he
was a poet, he was summarily dismissed,
but the names and place incident to this
anecdote are kept discreetly dark. All
of which goes to show that a poet may
yet be a poet and still be a man of af-
fair?— discriminative, just, equitable,
perhaps even more so th^n the ordinary
administrator of law or justice, because
he has the God-given quality of putting
himself in the other man's place.
But the Mayor of San Francisco is not
merely a browser in the fields of poesy, he
is a writer on the stern facts of life. No
idle dreamer is he, no mere theorist, but
a practical man of the every-day, bring-
ing his ideas down to a utilitarian use, and
believing with all his heart in theories
and religion that shall be available for
everyday needs. Of such nature was the
discourse delivered not long since before
an assembly of students at the University
of California, and which has been printed,
bound and published by them out of cour-
tesy for and an appreciation of Dr. Tay-
lor's work. On this occasion the lecturer
took for his subject a theme dwelt upon
in some one of Matthew Arnold's works,
in which the eminent English writer de-
clares the end and aim of life to be per-
fectibility of character. Voicing his own
ideas on the subject, Dr. Taylor said:
DOCTOR TAYLOE— SEVENTY YEARS YOUNG.
545
i FRANCIS J. HENEY S DANGEROUS SMILE.
"Perfectibility of character cannot be
reached by conduct alone — by conduct now
meaning the moral relations which men
bear the one to the other; for if conduct
in this sense be deemed to be an end,
I you will still have a stunted man, as
in the case of the Puritan, because in such
| a character, while you have the necessary
ethical clement blended with the religious,
you neither have the art element which
speaks for beauty, nor the scientific ele-
ment which speaks for truth.
"The old civilizations perished, it is
altogether likely, by reason of the fact
that the social units brought under those
civilization did not march pari passu.
Some historians have attributed one cause
to the decay of this civilization or to that ;
others have attributed other causes to one
civilization or another, but after all, is it
not reasonably plain that where some
units in a country are far in advance of
other units, that country cannot have the
seed of permanence in it? Necessarily it
will fall sooner or later as all the old
civilizations have done.
" * * * Of course, when we speak of
perfectibility, we are speaking of an ideal.
It is not to be expected that any of us
will achieve perfectibility, at least just
now; but it is the ideal toward which
each one of us should aim. So that as
means to that perfectibility he should not
only see to it that he is a moral and re-
ligious being, but he should also see to
it that he knows something of those phy-
sical sciences that have more to do with
his environment than anything else, and
also should see that the art side of him
is cultivated to its highest. Then he
would be able to see and appreciate the
color that lies in the heart of a rose, the
wonderful mystery of the woods, the over-
hanging heavens now smiling upon him in
peace and again frowning upon him in the
tumult of storm, as well as the work of
the artist which expresses such moods;
and mayhap may become a new man in the
presence of the wonders, and indeed .the
miracles, that the poet spreads before him
out of the bounty of his heart and brain."
Such is the man who stands now at
the head of civic matters in the queen
city of the Pacific. That these ideas are
not new to him is shown that when in
his early youth he met and became a close
friend of Henry George, when that bril-
liant and versatile writer was just bring-
ing forth his famous book, "Progress and
Poverty," to the light, it was Taylor who
encouraged, stimulated and urged him on.
His faith in the ultimate success of this
book of his friend's was not greater than
its triumph. The ideas there expressed,
he acknowledged to be rare; fine in their
keen and accurate dissection of industrial
problems; splendid in the pointing out of
a royal road of liberation. The names of
Henry George and Edward Robeson Tay-
lor are indissolubly linked together as
laborers and co-workers in the same field.
Widely known and esteemed as is the
latter for his unimpeachable integrity, his
clean sense of justice, his impartial ad-
ministration of the same, his brave and
sterling qualities, which so well <rbefit a
man," he is equally revered and loved for
the sympathy, understanding and genuine
warmth of his finely tempered character,
his readiness to aid by helping one to aid
himself in ways before unknown, and per-
haps, above all, for that fine mixture of
custom and intuition which has been de-
fined as "Gentleman — one who always
thinks of others^ and who never forgets
himself."
MR. AND MRS. FRANCIS J. HENEY. IN HIS PRIVATE LIFE MR. HENEY IS AS AD-
MIRABLE AN AMERICAN AS HE HAS PROVED HIMSELF IN PUBLIC AFFAIRS.
A GLIMPSE OF THE BATTLE
BY FREMONT OLDER
Editor uf the San Francisco Bulletin.
T WAS a long fight that
practically ended on
the night of Novem-
ber 5th, when the
boom of the guns
died out amid the
shouts of a joyous
people over a great
victory. Those of us who had been on
the firing line all through the 6 years real-
ized for the first time that we had at no
stage of the battle met with a real defeat.
While Schmitz piled up increasing major-
ities as the years rolled by, he was on the
way to the Ingleside jail. He didn't know
it. Neither did we. These majorities
were necessary. They gave Schmitz and
TCuef the confidence to commit their
crimes more openly, more frequently, be-
lieving that the people did not care.
So it transpired that when the entire
Schraitz ticket was elected in November,
1905, by an overwhelming majority, in-
stead of being the great victory it seemed,
it was the first tap at the jail door. But
no one of us who fought on the fusion
lines in 1905 had the clear vision to see
it so. Our view was that the people were
utterly debauched, had lost all moral
sense, and desiring to sin, voted open-
eyed for a sinner. We now know that
was untrue. There was a percentage of
bad, as there is sure to be in any great
group of people, but the majority did not
believe what the Bulletin published. Look-
ing back now at all the squalid details of
the French restaurant hold-up, the or-
ganization of a municipal crib, the tax
levied upon every dissolute woman in
town and every gambling hell, it cannot
be conceived that they could have be-
lieved. The Bulletin knew it to be true,
but we couldn't quite convince even our
own friends, not counting at all the great
"OLD" MAN TAYLOE.
547
mass of the people. The city was sick,
but comfortably so. Convince it? Go
abruptly to the fat gentleman compla-
cently sitting in the window of his club :
"Excuse my frankness, but you have
Bright's Disease, Cirrhoris of the Liver,
Gangrenous Appendicitis, and Fatty De-
generation of the heart!" "Have I?" he
would reply, incredulously. "Not on your
life. I feel too good. You will have to
show me. Besides, you are no doctor."
This was the condition of the mind of
San Francisco. The Bulletin was not a
physician. It was only a newspaper. But
when Spreckels, Langdon, Heney and
Burns opened up the ulcer that was eat-
ing away the town, every one applauded,
even the workingmen. They were quite
willing that Schmitz and Euef should be
punished for their crimes, but they wanted
the bribe-givers jailed, too. In other
words, they asked for exact justice and
nothing more. But the indictment of
Calhoun for bribing the Mayor and the
Supervisors angered the union-hating
class whose idea of exact justice was to
stop at the criminal rich. Why? Be-
cause Calhoun was shrewd enough to con-
nive at a street car strike in May, so that
he might head a big fight to cripple the
Carmen's Union. The battle raged, and
resulted in immediate crystallization of
the union-hating sentiment. Calhoun be-
came a hero, as he had planned. In a day-
he added to his cause thousands of parti-
sans, who seemed to lose whatever moral
sense they previously possessed. "Brib-
ing those vile Supervisors was the only
thing the poor man could do," they said.
All the criminaloids (a word coined by
Professor Eoss) were hot after the prose-
cution. Calhoun's .bureau of detectives
and hired writers were put to work to
spy upon and lie about the men who were
determined to have a clean city. Just
as Eoss says in his latest book : "Let him
who doubts where the battle rages mark
how fares the assailant of sin. To-day
there is little risk in letting fly at the red
light. What an easy mark is the tender-
loin. Eare is the clergyman, teacher or
editor who can be unseated by banded
saloon-keepers, gamblers and madames.
There every knock is a boost. If you
want a David-and-Goliath fight, you must
attack the powers that prey, not on the
vices of the lax, but on the necessities of
the decent. The deferred dividend graft,
the yellow dog fund, the private car in-
iquity, the Higher Thimblerig, far from
turning tail and slinking away beaten
like the vice caterers, confront us ram-
pant, fire-belching, saber-toothed, and
razor-clawed. They are able to ga.g crit-
ics, hobble investigators, hood the press
and muzzle the law. Drunk with power,
in office and club, in church and school,
in legislature and court, they boldly make
their stand, ruining the innocent, shred-
ding the reputations of the righteous, de-
stroying the careers and opportunities of
their assailants, dragging down pastor and
scholar, publicist and business man, from
livelihood and influence, unhorsing alike
faithful public servant, civic champion
and knight-errant of conscience, and all
the while gathering into loathsome cap-
tivity the souls of multitudes of young
men. Here is a fight where blows are
rained and armor dinted, and wounds suf-
fered and laurels won. If a sworn cham-
pion of the right will prove he is a man
and not a dummy, let him go up against
these !"
Fighting along these lines and backed
up by the plaudits of the union haters
and the other indicted higher-ups, Cal-
houn grew bolder. He really believed
that a majority of the 'people of the city
held in horror the idea of a "Southern
gentleman" in stripes. So he went into
politics to defeat Langdon for District At-
torney. McGowan, for many years a
Southern Pacific attorney, was chosen to
make the fight against him. Now this
became the real moral issue in the re-
cent campaign — whether or not the peo-
ple wanted their laws enforced. There
was no other way of looking at it. The
votes showed that they did. The ballots
for Taylor did not reveal it so clearly
for the reason that many men voted for
him because they wanted the city's credit
back — in other words, they wanted busi-
ness to resume. They voted for McGowan
— many of them for the same reason. They
had become convinced by the Calhoun
claque that the prosecution was hurting
business. That view merely betrayed
their ignorance. It was stupid self-inter-
est, for the reason that the rest of the
world would not have trusted a city whose
51-8
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
PATRICK CALHOUN, SAN FRANCISCO
STREET CAR MAGNATE, UNDER INDICT-
MENT FOR BRIBERY.
people voted in majority to immune from
punishment its wealthier law breakers.
Calhoun, in his efforts to avoid stripes
not only poisoned the minds of thousands
of the well-to-do class here, but through
his hired writers gave a wrong impression
to the people of the East in publications
that could be reached.
This has been to some extent overcome
by the honest New York writers, who
have been close observers of this wonder-
fully interesting situation for many
months. The truth will all come out in
time, of course. Truth always does. One
of the great difficulties that stands in the
way of a clear vision is the almost uni-
versal reluctance of human beings to be-
lieve that one of their own kind can sud-
denly rise in a community and work un-
selfishly for the common good. The atti-
tude of thousands of people toward Eu-
dolph Spreckels illustrates it. In truth,
I doubt very much if there is any greai
number of men outside of those who have
been intimately associated with him dur-
ign the past year who fully believe in the
absolute disinterestedness of his pur-
poses.
Those around him knew how false are
all the vile reports that the criminaloids
have circulated about him. His fearless-
ness, his bravery, his calmness in all the
trying situations, have been quite wonder-
ful. No taunts of the enemy, no lies, no
threats can swerve him. They only make
him more determined. He smiles pleas-
antly when the Calhoun stories are re-
peated to him that he will be killed, that
he will be done for unless he stops. His
courage is fine, his spirit is exalted, am
he will go on to the end, if, as he has
often said, it takes every minute of every
remaining year of his life, and every dol
lar of his fortune. He will fight fair
and honorably, but mercilessly.
The people of this generation may
never know how much they owe him, bu
when all the bitterness and malice ant
resentment of those in high places have
been mellowed and softened by the inter
vening years, he will stand out no
only locally, but nationally and inter
nationally, as one of the greatest factors
in the regeneration of American public
life. He doesn't seek nor desire newspaper
exploitation, nor the applause of the peo
pie. In fact, he shuns it, being one o
the few men who loves to do right for
right's sake, and who finds ample com
pensation in the maintenance of his own
self-respect.
The election over only marks a tern
porary lull in the battle. It will go on
until every law enacted by the people
has been upheld. Then may the horrit
past fade out as quickly as possible, with
only a dreadful memory remaining o
what it was necessary for a people
endure in order to come into a cleaner
life.
'UNTO THE LEAST OF THESE"
Inasmuch as you have done it unto the lease of these my Brethren you have done it
unto me."
BY KATHERINE M.
0 DO— to offer life,
strength, energy and
mind power in the
practical service of
humanity is the voca-
tion of the Sisters of
the Holy Family.
The religious order
was founded in this city by a noble, self-
sacrificing woman, Sister Mary Dolores
Armer, whose aim was to better human
beings that her Creator might be more
perfectly glorified by them. She entered
the field of chosen labor with zeal that
was only heralded by -good doing; dying,
she bequeathed to San Francisco a rich
inheritance; a religious, devoted band of
women to work in the midst of its hard-
pressed, struggling citizens; to lift them
and their homes to the higher plane of
existence, and by practical methods to
elevate to better things temporal, and
stimulate to an eager seeking after spirit-
ual development.
This band of consecrated workers, sys-
tematic in their methods, thorough-going
and ready on the moment to step forward
and aid, was one of the most efficient
agents in the task of restoring order and
pressing forward the rehabilitation meas-
ures San Francisco called into service
during its season of sore distress. The
agency was a power that the city could
claim as all its own. It had germinated
and developed here. Its members . knew
the people; loved them; had worked for
and with them for over thirty years, and
no relief was more effective than that ad-
ministered by the Sisters of the Holy
Family who are and have always been of
and with the masses.
The earthquake of April 18, 1906,
found the Sisters of the Holy Family
waiting for the first tones of the chapel
bell which would call for morning prayers.
It was nature's vibrations and swayings
that called the religious community to
matins on that special morning. The sis-
ters were appalled — many of their num-
ber felt that in that hour they were to
face death. Faith gave strength, however,
and the call to duty toned every fibre of
their being. They prayed that morning,
yes, prayed with a holy fear, permeating
heart and mind, as they bowed in adora-
tion when mass was offered in their con-
vent home. It was not a craven fear, but
a fear that inspired the desire and cour-
age to do for others. That morning their
relief work commenced and has continued
unceasingly ever since.
"Our work is there," were the calm, un-
flinching words of the Superior of the Or-
der, as she looked down over the burning,
afflicted city. At her words, her daugh-
ters went forth to follow the people with
comfort and encouragement as they fled
from stricken homes to the parks, the open
spaces and later into the tents and refugee
cottages. To-day they are still with them,
strengthening them in their efforts to
re-establish their homes and tending, car-
ing for, instructing and building up the
moral character of the children that the
new city may be bettered in a well trained
citizenship.
At the first urgent call of a fire-doomed
city, mattresses and bedding were willing-
ly furnished from the convent supply to
the improvised hospital at Mechanics'
Pavilion, where the wounded, the weak
and suffering were taken as they in num-
bers fell victims to the merciless flames.
The Sisters could and would do without
those things which the afflicted needed.
Personal service followed without delay.
Some of the devoted women hurried to
the Day Homes, those practical institu-
tions combining the advantages of the
modern settlement, the training school,
2
550
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
kindergarten and nursery for the infants
left to the gentle care of the Sisters while
mothers labored that their children might
have bread. Their presence was especially
needed that morning at the Homes, for
distressed parents brought their little ones
to leave them with the Sisters while house-
hold effects were gathered and carried to
points of safety. The children were natu-
rally nervous and excited, and one frail
little being laid down the burden of its
tiny life before many hours had passed.
The Day Homes, however, were doomed.
The Sacred Heart Home, the first insti-
another. A tiny woman averred she had
seen the missing child enter the burning
building. The Sister unhesitatingly ven-
tured into the kindling pile to find the
child coming down a smoke-clouded stair-
way with her well loved doll held close
to her heart. She had risked her life to
save it, and all that day she caressed and
fondled that doll as she sat under the
shade of a tree in the park.
The Sisters did unflinching service at'
the Pavilion hospital. They were among
the first of the corps of faithful attendants
composed of priests, giving spiritual con-
A REFUGEE TENT OF THE SISTERS OF THE HOLY FAMILY, AFTER THE GREAT S\\
FRANCISCO CATASTROPHE.
tution of its kind in San Francisco, caught
from the fatal Hayes street fire. The Sis-
ters hurried the children out and took
them off to the parks, carrying the babies
in their arms.
A motherly story is told of a little girl,
Thelma by name. She disappeared from
the sidewalk where the tots were gathered
preparatory to the parkward trip. A Sis-
ter missed Thelma. Loquacious compan-
ions explained she had gone one way or
solation, physicians and nurses. They
soothed the nervous and suffering; bathed
the blood-stained faces and hands of un-
fortunate victims of the disaster ; prepared
the fatally wounded for the reception of
the last rites of the church, and whispered
devout aspirations and words of comfort
into the ears of the dying, and when the
paralyzing information went out that the
Pavilion, where hundreds were being
treated, was in the path of the flames and
"UNTO THE LEAST OF THESE.'
551
must fall before them, the Sisters worked
and helped and waited until the last liv-
ing human being had been carried out of
the building.
Their labors at the Harbor Hospital
were conducted in a long, insecure frame
building. Undaunted, they stood by the
ill and dying, the weak and fainting, until
relief came from Alcatraz and their ser-
vices were no longer needed. As the Sis-
ters were met in their pilgrimages of
mercy at or near the city front on leaving
for Nazareth, their home on the banks of
Richardson Bay, the people crowded
around, showering blessings, some be-
moaning at the very suggestion that "the
good sisters" were leaving the blighted
town. But "the good Sisters" in numbers
remained to minister to all needed. In
Marin County, too, they worked in the
midst of the refugees who had left this
city for securer quarters.
After a day of ceaseless care, anxiety
and toil the Sisters returned footsore and
weary to their convent home out on Hayes
street, not to find their much needed rest
and quiet, but to hasten off to a point of
greater security, while the Jesuit Fathers
sought shelter in the Convent, as their
church and college had fallen under the
power of the conflagration just when the
cupola bell rang out for the last time from
old St. Ignatius the noon-day Angelus.
The quiet convent home — to what civic
and makeshift uses it was applied during
those disastrous April days ! The Jesuit
Fathers found in it little of the spiritual
rest and tranquility that had once been its
characteristics. Throngs followed the
priests into this retreat to be shriven; to
receive the Blessed Sacrament, craving,
also, for words of counsel, advice and con-
solation. The spiritual duties were mul-
tiplied. Then, too, on the ground or
basement floor the city inaugurated a de-
tention home for the demented — those who
were in the city's charge at the time of the
fire, and the many, many, who had gone
crazy under the strain of the fearfully ap-
palling conditions which had so suddenly
swept over them, depriving the mind of
its normal equilibrium. The cries and
screams of these poor people and the busy
tread of doctors and officials were so con-
tinual that the atmosphere of the convent
was entirely changed.
Judge Murasky transferred his de-
partment of justice from the wrecked City
Hall to the corridor of the convent. The
matron from the Emergency Hospital took
up her quarters there with her complement
of nurses. The 'city officials installed
themselves within the walls.
The Sheriff and his deputy opened
offices, and the Sheriff's van or the patrol
wagon drew up in official form before the
portals every few hours of those historic
days, while the guard of soldiers, incon-
siderable in number, but a guard notwith-
standing, did duty just without the Fill-
more street entrance.
The duties devolving on the Sisters
were manifold, complex and all freighted
with responsibilities, but they did not
waver. Health and strength taxed appar-
ently beyond natural limit, never fagged.
The Sister Superior, in speaking of the
trying experience, has said: "Our Sisters
keep well, hopeful and energetic through-
out the ordeal."
At times they were custodians of the
treasures of the altar and of important
church papers. The people nocked to
them with all the wealth they had saved,
and pressed it into their keeping. Those
home treasures rescued from the midst
of the flames were safe.
Then came systematic relief days, with
the giving of bread to rich and poor,
standing in line each waiting his or her
turn. A short distance from the convent,
a flat was secured, and this was used for
a relief station, where applicants came
daily for clothing, bedding and food. The
Sisters, constantly going from one relief
station to another in an undaunted effort
to procure enough of the substantials of
life to satisfy every one.
The tent cities commenced to grow
apace. The Sisters followed the people, in-
to them. They established centers, where
hundreds of children were gathered to at-
tend kindergarten classes and sewing
schools. The fruits of the labor in the lat-
ter were distributed in the form of dresses,
aprons a-nd useful articles of apparel,
which were distributed in thousands to the
needy at the close of each month. The
young people were instructed in the cate-
chism, were taught the principles of mor-
ality and integrity, and schooled in the
demands of economy.
552
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
In a convenient place in these impro-
vised cities the Sisters prepared the altars
at which mass was offered on Sundays ;
taught the children hymns to be sung dur-
ing the sacred office,, and lost no opportu-
nity to draw souls closer to God. The
camps at Golden Gate Park, Jefferson
Square, Washington Square, Potrero,
Lobos Park, Harbor View and a large one
at Bay and Polk streets, were the scene
of the Sisters' untiring efforts.
Isolated tents were not neglected.
Every place where want demanded, relief
and consolation were carried by the Sis-
man ding their immediate attention. 1
will be remembered by all who resided
here during the height of San Francisco's
distress that nature frequently seemed un-
merciful to those sheltered in tents. Higli
winds prevailed and rain often fell in tor
rents. When the poor people were just
about settled in their tents out on the
Potrero, a violent wind storm came on one
night, and the rain poured down in relent-
less fury. Soon the canvas coverings were
torn from the ground, leaving the helpless
inmates without shelter or protection.
Scanty clothing and bedding were water-
SOME OF THE CHILDREN WHO ARE CARED FOR BY THE SISTERS OF THE HOLY
FAMILY, A SISTERHOOD EXISTING ONLY IN SAN FRANCISCO.
ters, who recognized no distinction of color
or creed. Away out at Ingleside, where
the sufferers far advanced in years and
otherwise helpless, were gathered together,
the Sisters extended their work. • The aged
and the fire impoverished, no matter where
they found shelter, were sought out and
aided by the Sisters, who brought sunshine
and happiness as well as material gifts.
Many tragic incidents came directly un-
der the observation of the Sisters, de-
drenched. Early next morning, when the
Sisters went to the camp to gather the
children for instruction, their sympathy
was overcharged by the distress of the
refuges. In the basement of the church,
which was serving for a kindergarten, re-
lief station, and what not, the people were
found congregated in numbers, the women
and children shivering with the cold, their
hair loose on their backs and streaming
with water, their dripping clothes clinging
'UNTO THE LEAST OF THESE."
553
to their quivering frames. Without delay
the Sisters set to work relieving the con-
dition. From the convent the Sister
Superior sent gallons of hot, deliciously
fragrant coffee and wholesome bread,
which was most gratefully received. Later
came sacks of flour and other provisions,
besides clothes and bedding.
On the question of the spiritual welfare
of both young and old, the Sisters were
ever on the alert. Notwithstanding dis-
tressing conditions, the young folks were
regularly and carefully prepared to re-
ceive the Sacraments of Penance, Confir-
mation and Holy Communion. The Arch-
bishop confirmed classes of these children
in the churches left standing. First com-
munion was received in the tent churches,
and after the communion mass, the young
people were brought together again and
served with breakfast under a prettily
decorated canvas covering. Thousands of
children were instructed in the rudi-
ments of their religion under the excep-
tionally trying camp conditions.
The necessity of keeping the children
bright and happy, as well as orderly,
cleanly and well instructed, was not lost
sight of by the Sisters. Thanksgiving
and Christmas was not forgotten. Far
more than the usual number of young peo-
ple were served at the 1906 Thanksgiving
dinner. Eelays of feasters followed each
other at the attractively arranged Thanks-
giving Day tables, which have become a
feature in the convent out on Hayes
street. The most joyous festival of all,
however, marked the Christmas-tide of the
city's year of disaster. Pain and sorrow
were forgotten under the influence of the
gladsome atmosphere created by the Sis-
ters. Each camp had its Christmas tree.
Every child was remembered with a
Christmas gift, and the spirit of the season
of joy and peace reigned. At Ingleside, it
was a bright and merry Christmas for the
old people. The Sunday school children
of St. Mary's Cathedral, conducted under
the auspices of the Sisters, provided an in-
teresting programme, and every resident
of Ingleside received a token of the occa-
sion. A souvenir of the day was presented
to the commander, who expressed his ac-
knowledgment in some timely, earnest
words.
In all seasons and all weathers, the Sis-
ters have been constant in their camp at-
tendance. No matter what the difficulty
of transportation, they have managed daily
to reach each. Sometimes, they went in
state in an automobile or carriage. Fre-
quently, when conditions demanded, the
conveyances proved to be express wagons,
a sheriff's van, a sand cart, a scavenger
wagon or any possible vehicle on wheels.
When needs be, they willingly walked, no
matter what the distance. The Ked Cross
officials, the camp commanders, those in
general charge of the relief work, found
no more able auxiliaries than the Sisters,
who have been always on duty.
The Sisters of the Holy Family, in all
the months since the 18th of April, 1906,
have been close to the hearts, the senti-
ments, the thoughts of the afflicted of San
Francisco, and their testimony is: "The
people were kind and brave to heroism in
time of calamity." The people themselves
can only say: "God bless our friends, the
Sisters of the Holy Family."
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ALPIIONZO BENJAMIN BOWERS, INVENTOR OF THE ART OF HYDRAULIC DREDGING
AND THE HYDRAULIC DREDGE. FROM OIL PAINTING BY COURTESY OF HENRY
RASCHEN. DRAWING BY F. A. RAYNAUD.
HON. WlLLl'AM RANDOLPH IIKARST, THE GREATEST PUBLISHER IN THE WORLD
THE CALCIUM LIGHT
MR. HEARST AS AN EMPLOYER
BY ONE OP HIS EMPLOYEES.
R. HEAEST is the larg-
est employer of skilled
labor in the publish-
ing line in the world;
he has always consist-,
ently urged the wel-
fare of the laboring
classes and the
great body of the American public,, and
he alone has a far vaster influence than
any publisher or aggregation of publish-
ers. Inasmuch as Mr. Hearst's attitude
upon any subject is a matter of national
importance, any facts concerning his ad-
ministration of his own vast affairs must
be of value; since out of his wide experi-
ence he gathers the conclusions which de-
termine his attitude on any public ques-
tion.
And what Mr. Hearst has accomplished
is the best proof of the soundness of his
doctrines !
No more emphatic endorsement can be
given of the profitableness of highly paid
skilled labor and highly paid Educated
Brains to the employer in the United
States to-day than is afforded by the
Hearst newspapers. Because of his great
willingness to always recognize this value
in his own enterprises Mr. Hearst has, in
an incredibly short time, achieved unques-
tionably the greatest and most permanent
success in the history of journalism. His
determination to secure the highest talents
and most skillful workers has not
been a mere cold, cut and dried business
scheme, despite the fact that no better
plan of business operation could possibly
be hit upon. Mr. Hearst exerts a per-
sonal, helpful influence upon his men; he
has inspired them to the best of which
they are capable, and thus, more than
any other man, he has revealed the amaz-
ing possibilities of twentieth century jour-
nalism.
To-day a young man — Mr. Hearst is
but forty- two years old — he is the owner
of nine huge metropolitan dailies, one
trade magazine, one popular monthly
magazine, and a news service that extends
to every part of the world. These prop-
erties are worth about fifty million dol-
lars. The cost of running them is tre-
mendous, and the daily capital involved
far exceeds that required for purely com-
mercial enterprises of similar magnitude.
The gross receipts are vast, but so ambi-
tious has Mr. Hearst been, so high his
star, that he has poured his wealth into
the constant improvement of his mighty
existing enterprises and the establishment
of new ones.
Always he has been successful with the
expensive educated brains and the highly
skilled labor operating under his marvel-
ous and inspiring direction.
Mr. Hearst has never been satisfied
when he has reached a place where an-
other publisher would stop for breath.
He has jumped into one after another of
the large cities of the United States with
a rapidity that has amazed men of smaller
calibre. Where the usual millionaire
newspaper proprietor is content with the
burden of a single metropolitan daily
which demands perhaps a greater degree
of careful management than any other
commercial enterprise, Mr. Hearst has
won success in shouldering a dozen giant
publishing businesses. In the face of the
most determined opposition he has, with
one exception, made his publishing enter-
prise a success from the start. And with-
in a year after he had established the "Los
Angeles Examiner," in Los Angeles,
which most of all cities in the United
States was opposed to the fundamental
right of working men, or, consequently,
any other men to organize into unions, he
had made a success and won the princi-
558
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
pie for which he fought.
First let ns consider briefly the Hearst
publications :
In San Francisco, Mr. Hearst owns the
"San Francisco Examiner," one of the
largest business institutions in that city.
It was turned over to Mr. Hearst in 1887,
when he was a young college boy of
twenty-two.
People didn't know what the young Mr.
Hearst would do when he took the paper.
Even Senator Hearst, the young man's
father, despaired of success, for the paper
was a money loser. But the young man
had a belief in doing things better than
the other fellow, even if it cost money
and hard work. Furthermore, he inspired
those with whom he came in contact, and
he employed skillful, brainy men. The
San Francisco Examiner succeeded. In
San Francisco, Mr. Hearst also owns the
San Francisco Weekly Examiner, which
among a large number of weeklies stands,
of its class, as the greatest in the world.
In New York, Mr.. Hearst has three
dailies : the "New York American," the
"New York Evening Journal," and "Das
Morgen Journal." He also owns the "Cos-
mopolitan Magazine," which has a circu-
lation close to a million copies. Inciden-
tally, Mr. Hearst is the only daily news-
paper proprietor in the United States
who has made a large "success in the
hitherto alien field of magazine journal-
ism. Mr. Hearst's "Motor," a trade pub-
lication devoted, of course, to "autos,"
is known everywhere, as also is "Hearst's
Farm and Home," which, too, has a cir-
culation of one million copies.
In Chicago, the morning "Examiner"
and the "Evening American" are the two
largest papers in the Middle West in point
both of circulation and influence. In
Boston, the "Boston American" (evening)
has the greatest circulation of any paper
in New England, about half a million
copies.
In Los Angeles the "Los Angeles Ex-
aminer," is the leading paper of the great
southwest, covering as it does Arizona,
Southern California, New Mexico, and
Western Texas.
Supplementing this list of great dailies
is the great Hearst news service, a news-
distributing agency which in point of in-
fluence and efficiency is only second to the
Hearst newspapers themselves. Through
the Hearst news service, the news of the
world is supplied to 150 newspapers in the
United States-. So complete is this med-
ium that in many instances it is the ex-
clusive source of news. Coming as it did
into competition with other great news
service companies which were, appar-
ently, impregnably entrenched, it has,
nevertheless, steadily gained headway. It
has progressed in the face of the severest
competition. The Hearst news service is
represented in all the great cities of the
world; in many instances by direct and
exclusive representatives who have been
given these posts of honor in recognition
of their services on Mr. Hearst's publica-
tions.
And a post of honor means something.
Among Mr. Hearst's employees, in num-
ber more than five thousand, are some of
the highest salaried men in the world.
Mr. Hearst's salary scale varies from $50,-
000 a year to smaller salaries, which are
yet greater than those of men employed
in capacities of equal responsibility in
other enterprises or in the professions.
Especially is the truth of this statement
demonstrated when the comparison is ex-
tended to other newspaper undertakings.
Mr. Hearst's entrance into the news-
paper field marked a hitherto unknown
era of prosperity among newspaper men
everywhere. His principle was to secure
the best men. He fixed no salary limit.
That it pays to employ skilled men at high
wages, and that the American public are-
intelligent enough to respond to the good
work exercised in the pages of Mr-
Hearst's newspapers requires no proof.
But the wisdom of Mr. Hearst's course
was emphasized by extraordinary circum-
stances. The publishing ventures upon
which he first entered were in a lament-
able condition. Almost immediately un-
der his management they achieved a suc-
cess that seemed a miracle. Newspaper
proprietors who understand perhaps much
more deeply than does the reading public
what unusual talents are required to
breathe life into a dead newspaper were
amazed.
An instance : When Mr. Hearst flung
his spur into the publishing arena in New
York, the proprietors of the huge dailies
viewed with amusement the challenge of
ME. HEARST AS AN EMPLOYER.
559
the "young Westerner." The general con-
sensus of opinion was that they would
soon "reduce" him as they had "reduced"
such men as John R. McLean, the suc-
cessful millionaire newspaper proprietor
of Cincinnati. Mr. Hearst secured the
especially moribund "Journal" — and, by
the way, there are comparative degrees of
death in the publication field — from Mr.
McLean. It was then several degrees be-
yond the pale of the twenty odd newspap-
ers in New York. Not only was the "Jour-
nal" dead, but, worse, it was losing money.
Mr. Hearst first organized the editorial
and business management of the "Jour-
nal" by securing from other papers the
best men in their employ. When many
of these men had been receiving salaries
of five and ten thousand dollars, Mr.
Hearst doubled them. The salary was no
drawback. It was the men and the organ
Mr. Hearst wanted. And the men he
secured.
Hearst was the first man to measure
newspaper brains by quality rather than
quantity of output. Hitherto brains had
been sold like soap or shavings, at so much
a column.
That his methods are the successful ones
is established by the great success of his
New York paper, which prints the largest
number of papers of any newspaper in
the world. But its success is not to be
measured alone by the consumption of
pulp, for Mr. Hearst's New York paper
has the greatest influence ever known
to the newspaper field.
Mr. Hearst's procedure in other in-
stances was similar to that in New York.
Brains can never be confined with a
unionized schedule, and Mr. Hearst is
the first man to recognize this fact. His
editors, managers, business getters, in his
various enterprises, are never confined to
stipulated amounts. There are, in his
service, many $25,000 a year men, and
$20,000, $15,000 and $5,000 men. And
the minimum salary is always temporary
•—promotions, advances and emoluments
are frequent, and every man feels that his
capacity and ability will receive recogni-
tion.
In the mechanical departments the
union scales, which are generally adjusted
by the various unions, are always recog-
r izi :1 as the minimum. And the mini-
mum is no more limited to the mechanic,
type-setter, stereotyper, wrapper, than it
is in the case of the Educated Brain. Par-
ticularly is this true when the ability is
shown in any of the production of the
paper. Of course, every one is aware that
the typographical press unions, stereo-
typers and other unions establish a mini-
mum wage, for which its members shall
work. Mr. Hearst is always the first em-
ployer of labor who is asked to accept a
new schedule. And he always grants it.
But he does not stop here. His men in
post« of trust, such, for instance, as a fore-
man and assistant foremen, enjoy larger
salaries than do men in similar capacities
on other newspapers.
In the treatment of his men, Mr. Hearst
is the kindest and best of employers. But
his benefactions are unheralded. Some-,
times a man overworks or is careless of
his health; sometimes, through use or
abuse the educated brain may collapse,
and nothing is sadder than the collapse of
a literary worker. Mr. Hearst immedi-
ately relieves the unfortunate from all
duty and pays to him until his recovery
the salary he has been drawing in his ac-
tivity.
. In many instances after the departure
from life of some unfortunate who may
indeed have brought on his death through
his own fault, Mr. Hearst has taken care
of the dead man's family or dependants
until such time as they have informed him
that they could no longer subsist upon his
generosity. One would expect that a man
of this mould would be imposed upon;
perhaps he has been, but Mr. Hearst never
questions the sincerity of any one who
comes to him with a story of distress. It
is better to be imposed on than to lose all
faith in human nature, or, on the other
hand, to refuse aid to one in genuine need.
Were Mr. Hearst more discriminating in
helping those who come to him for help,
it is true that it would be rare that he
would be deceived, but it is also true that
those who honestly need help would hesi-
tate to submit themselves to a searching
investigation. In his newspaper offices,
Mr. Hearst eliminates gossip. Where, for
instance, cases have been brought to his
attention by well-meaning employees of
impositions by others, Mr. Hearst has al-
ways dismissed such accusations with never
560
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
a thought of connecting the real offenders,
and he has done so even when absolute
proof of wrong doing has been clearly
adduced.
A penniless old age never stares
a Hearst employee in the face. Mr.
Hearst has inaugurated among his em-
ployees a system both charitable and
humane. Where a man. has reached a
certain age and is no longer able to per-
form his physical or mental duties, he is
retired on a pension. Many instances
could be quoted of Mr. Hearst's benefac-
tions where illness has come upon his em-
ployees. He has had the best of physi-
cians ; has insisted that the sick employees
should be removed to hospitals and sani-
tariums, where they could secure the best
of treatment at his expense and with never
a suggestion of indebtedness or remunera-
tion.
Mr. Hearst's employees are the most
loyal that can be found in any institution.
Every one of these men are faithful to
the great chief, as they call him, and he is
always spoken of reverently. His appear-
ance in the offices of any of his publica-
tions is always hailed agreeably, drawing
the most favorable comparison to the con-
dition which ensues among the employees
when many — but not all, thank Heaven —
of the other publishers visit their offices.
Take, for instance, the infrequent en-
trance of Mr. James Gordon Bennett into
the offices of the New York Herald — the
entire organization is paralyzed, demoral-
ized and upset. Mr. Bennett discharges,
on these occasions, his most faithful em-
ployees, and the result is, that the entire
establishment of the New York Herald is
without a grain of loyalty. Mr. Adolph
Ochs of the New York Times is another
such newspaper employer. So is Mr. Jos.
Pulitzer, of the New York World. 1
have worked on the World and know the
shaky feeling which even the highest paid
and most efficient managers possess. Mr.
Paul Dana, for instance, of the New York
Sun, is another newspaper proprietor who
looks upon his men as automatons. Mr.
Dana is too proud to notice his employees,
and there are many others of this type. I
hope I may be pardoned for bringing in
these personalities, but 1 have done it to
prove my point, and not because I have
any grudge or feeling in regard to the
other proprietors.
But Hearst treats his men like men.
He knows either directly or indirectly of
every man who has been long in his em-
ploy. He comes into contact with his men.
Say what you will of Mr. Hearst, those
who know him best love him best. I am
for Hearst, first, last and all the time, for
I am a Hearst employee.
Next to the President of the United
States, Mr. Hearst is acknowledged even
by those who are opposed to him as the
most potent force in the United States to-
day. His influence and power reaches
throughout the nation. Although not al-
ways acknowledged, the present crusade
in this country against the pirates of
finance is due to Mr. Hearst more than
any other man. His was the first voice
lifted against the predatory money kings
who, looting public service corporations
and other public corporations, carried on
the greatest plunder of the people in the
world's history. When Mr. Hearst,
through his newspapers, first attacked the
entrenched and dishonest wealth, his work
was called sacrilege. For the first time,
the slimy shrines of unscrupulous million-
aire stockbrokers were shown in their cold,
horrid, selfish nakedness. Mr. Hearst,
first to pave the way, was first to bear the
brunt of the counter attacks. Every sub-
sidized journal in the country attacked
Mr. Hearst, and some which were not sub-
sidized believed his charges against the
millionaire politicians untrue. The dis-
honesty of the money kings has since been
established, but at that time many of the
people did not understand their methods
nor appreciate the extent to which offices
of political power and public trust were
prostituted to serve the manipulators of
wealth. Mr. Hearst was called a socialist,
an anarchist, a polluter of the respectable
rich, and an inciter of class hatred. He
carried on an amazing campaign of public
education, and the work since taken up
by Mr. William Jennings Bryan, Thomas
W. Lawson and President Eoosevelt was
fought out hard and bitterly by Mr.
Hearst before the public was ready to ac-
cept it.
TACOMA— LOOKING UP ELEVENTH STREET FROM A STREET.
TACOMA---FOR AMBITIOUS MEN
BY HENRY PEARSON
Largest wheat warehouse in the world.
Largest fisheries plant in the United
States.
Largest private dry dock north of San
Francisco.
Employs more than 15,000 men in
manufacturing industries.
Largest meat packing industry west of
the Missouri Eiver.
Gained more than two new industries
a month for five years.
Reduces more ore than any other city
west of the Rocky Mountains.
Manufactures more wood products than
any other city in the world.
Mills more flour than any other city
west of Minneapolis and Kansas City.
Largest car and locomotive construction
and repair plant in the Pacific Northwest.
Bank clearings have increased from 27
millions in 1896 to 204 millions in 1906.
Ocean commerce has grown in the seven
years beginning with 1900 from $22,803,-
773 to $50,084,215 per annum.
Abundance of coal and coke produced
within 35 miles, and cheap fuel from the
waste of the lumber mills.
Has unlimited supplies of cheap electric
power for light, heat and manufacturing
from the glaciers of Mount Tacoma, only
50 miles distant.
562
OVERLAID MONTHLY.
Tacoma — only twenty-seven years old*
— is, in many respects, the most remark-
able city on the American continent.
It is a community of and for ambitious
men, a city of opportunity, and in this
regard Tacoma has everything in common
with the thriving centers of the Pacific
Coast. But over and above all, there is,
in Tacoma, a peculiar and a special
charm. In its unique assembling of natu-
ral attractions and resources Tacoma
stands alone.
Old Mother Nature gave to Tacoma a
singular advantage. And man has util-
ized the opportunity. Behind Tacoma
stand the vastest forests of commercial
timber in the world, and to the city comes
the product of some of the best fruit lands
and most fertile grain fields in the United
States. Facing Tacoma is a superb natu-
ral harbor, an arm of the huge Pacific
Ocean, a highway for the vessels from
Alaska, the Orient, South America, Mex-
ico and Pacific Coast ports. But at Ta-
coma itself is the finest, largest and most
convenient area of the entire Pacific Coast
for the trans-shipment of freight between
land and water.
In a word, Tacoma affords better facili-
ties for the traffic between the transconti-
nental railroads and the ocean-going
steamers than any other city on the Pacific
Coast. And it has room for the economi-
cal expansion of its dock facilities.
Through the docks of Tacoma flows
the ocean commerce that is making the
city great. It is the easiest and cheapest
port for the trans-shipment of freight
upon the Pacific Coast.
•Tacoma is the natural outlet on the
Sound for the wheat of the Inland Em-
pire. The city has the largest warehouse
capacity for grain on the Pacific Coast.
With the establishment of an Oriental
steamship line about twenty years ago, the
Portland Flouring Mills Company opened
a branch house in Tacoma and built a big
mill to grind for the export trade. The
flour milling industry has naturally de-
veloped with the export trade in wheat.
Other mills were added. Tacoma now
mills more flour than any other point west
of Minneapolis or Kansas City. The pres-
ent daily capacity of its mills is upwards
of 7,000 barrels, besides the output of a
number of cereal plants.
PROF. ALBERT GRAY OF TACOMA.
Tacoma to-day is an important manu-
facturing city. The "dinner pail bri-
gade" in proportion to the population is
the largest of any city north of San Fran-
cisco. Smelting has become an important
industry, and the low cost of fuel has been
a ,most important factor in these opera-
tions. Situated in Pierce County, and
within twenty-five miles of the city are in-
exhaustible supplies of coking coal.
The growth of business in Tacoma in
the last few years has been phenomenal.
It is reflected in the bank clearings and
deposits. The total bank deposits on
January 11, 1905, amounted to $7,673,-
655.24, On the 22d of March, 1907, they
amounted to $15,565,071.72, a gain of
more than 100 per cent in slightly more
than two years. Bank clearings in-
creased from $27,083,966.44 in 1896 to
$204,969,374.36 in 1906, or an increase at
the rate of 656 per cent in ten years. Four
new banks have been established in Ta-
coma during the past twelve months, but
the number of banks in operation is still
less than the average number for a city
of Tacoma's population and amazing com-
mercial and industrial activities.
Tacoma lies in one of the healthiest and
most picturesque regions in the world.
"Puget Sound," declared General Sher-
*Twenty-seven years ago, Tacoma had a population but little over one thousand persons.
TACOMA— FOR AMBITIOUS HEX.
563
man, "is God's country," and every one
who has ever been in Tacoma is ready to
second this appropriate phrase. Vital sta-
tistics prove that Tacoma's death rate is
as low as any city in the World. Dr. A.
P. Johnson, Tacoma's noted surgeon, says
it is one of the healthiest cities in which
to live.
In educational facilities, Tacoma pre-
sents many phases of interest to the par-
ents of children of school age. The pub-
lic schools are the city's pride. Besides
the public schools, there are many fine
better school can be found anywhere. An-
other private educational institution of
wide reputation is Vashon College and
Academy,, located at Burton, Washington,
a few miles from Tacoma. Vashon Col-
lege is splendidly equipped and superbly
located on Puget Sound, was founded in
1892 through the wise beneficence of Hon.
M. F. Hatch. Dr. John M. Foster, presi-
dent of the institution, is one of the lead-
ing men of the State of Washington. While
non-sectarian, Vashon is decidedly Chris-
tian in character. It is a military college.
CADETS AT VASHON COLLEGE
private institutions. Among these might
be mentioned De Koven Hall, a military
school for boys, located in beautiful
grounds at Parkland, just outside of Ta-
coma. The school can take care of but
thirty boys, and naturally it receives a
very select class of cadets. The institution,
which was founded about fifteen years ago,
is pointed out to every visitor as one of
the distinctive schools of Tacoma. The
boys receive an excellent training, and no
The personnel of the faculty is as high
as that of any college in the country. The
students are an exceptionally clean, whole-
some class of boys, who have great pride
in the traditions of the college, which even
in its comparatively short career of fifteen
years, are most meritorious. The insti-
tution is run on the military plan.
Greater than all the physical resources
of Tacoma, more alluring than all its
natural charms, more inviting and more
5Q-i
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
human thaii any ulterior characteristic of
the city is the public spirit of its people.
The men of Tacoma breathe energy and
optimism and public spirit. They pull to-
gether with a hearty good will that cannot
be described. Their slogan, "Watch Ta-
coma Grow/' has in it all the boundless
optimism of the West, and wherever men
can read the English language this battle-
cry of progress has penetrated.
Looking at Tacoma from afar, one ap-
preciates the quality of its citizenship.
But looking upon the city close at hand is
even better than when seeing from a dis-
tance. The young man who goes to Ta-
coma finds himself among a city full of
hustlers. The contact alone conduces to
success.
BY R. F. RADEBAUGH.
ASHINGTON is in the
midst of an era of
railroad construction,
which in point of the
large mileage involved
has not a parallel
in the experience
of the Pacific Coast.
As late as 1880, all of the railroads in the
.State did not amount to 200 miles. To-
day, the total mileage under operation is
enough to more than reach from the Pa-
cific to the Atlantic, in the total of 3326
miles. To this is now being added, ac-
cording to the records of the State Rail-
road Commissioners, the further amount
of 2,000 miles, all of which has been sur-
veyed and definitely located and a large
part of which is already under construc-
tion. This does not include the lines
which have been merely projected; these
would add over a thousand miles more, or
a total addition of 3,039 miles.
All of this additional mileage is being
built and planned with reference to the
chief seaport as a local center, and that is
Tacoma.
Tacoma is at the head of the Sound;
that is to say, at its southernmost extrem-
ity of practicable navigation, and at that
point on the Sound nearest to this national
rail highway. A railroad in approaching a
coast does not and cannot afford to run
along shore with its burdens destined for
transfer to vessels if the terminals are
favorable, and if the vessel can safely and
economically take cargo at the first shore
point of rail contact.
Because of the relative cheapness of
water transportation, ships go as far in-
land as safe and speedy navigation will al-
low; they go to "the head of the water-way.
That is where Taeoma sits, at the head of
the economically navigable water-way of
Puget Sound, with an absolutely clear .
channel from her wharves to the deep sea.
On its way hither is the Union Pacific,
which operates the south bank through the
canyon, regarding as a hopeless case ade-
quate improvement of the bar at the
mouth of the river, extending its line to
Tacoma, where it has just expended mil-
lions for terminal grounds and planned to
expend other millions in improving the
same.
Across the river on the north bank
comes the Great Northern in divergence
southwest from its main line at Spokane
on continuous water level with high qual-
ity roadbed and trackage to save 40 per
cent of the cost via its line over the Cas-
cades. Likewise the Northern Pacific,
building anew, jointly with the Great
Northern in this North Bank line at the
charge of about seven and one-half mil-
lions each, to roll down easily and cheaply
A. P. JOHNSON.
TACOMA— FOE AMBITIOUS MEN.
565
to tidewater at Tacoma instead of climb-
ing at enormous expense the heavy grades
of the mountain.
Comes likewise the^ Chicago, Milwaukee
& St. Paul, a 10,000 mile system, count-
ing in its coast extension, pushing west in
utmost haste with an army of men num-
bering many thousands, already far along
near the eastern border of Wyoming, and
at this end building a feeder to its estab-
lished terminus in Tacoma, after having
spent millions here for rights of way and
grounds for wharves, warehouses, yards
and depots.
Comes, moreover, the Chicago & North-
western, another system that, with its
coast extension, figures up roundly to 10,-
000 miles; already further west by hun-
dreds of miles than its old-time rival, hav-
ing last fall passed Shoshone in the west-
erly half of Wyoming, and through its
subsidiary corporation, named North
Coast, planned and surveyed a system,
trunkline and feeders, in this State with
terminal holdings at Tacoma to prepare
for arrival of the main line through Idaho
from the East.
Disregarding rumors of preparation to
build to the head of the Sound on the part
of the Canadian Pacific Soo Line and
Gould's Western Pacific and some others,
we have in actual construction the Union
Pacific, St. Paul, Chicago, Northwestern,
Great. Northern and also the Northern
Pacific in approach by a new route where-
by there will be no division with points
north, as in the past, of traffic originating
beyond the sea or destined there by the
gateway of the Sound.
Appropriations have been made for the
following railway and Government ex-
penditures in Tacoma, and work will start
on all of them within a few weeks:
U. P. tunnel, viaduct, termi-
nals, depot $6,000,000
Milwaukee terminals, depot
and waterways 5,000,000
N. P. Narrows tunnel, tracks,
depot, etc 4,750,000
Government harbor improve-
ments 240,000
Federal building 600,000
Armory 95,000
Total $16,685,000
A CITY OF HOMES
BY ARNOTT WOODROOFE, A. R. I. B. A.
Illustrations by Arnold S. Constable.
"/ know what it is to live in a cottage
with a deal floor and roof, and a hearth of
mica slate, and I know it to be in many
respects healthier and happier than living
between a Turkey carpet and a gilded ceil-
ing/'— John Ruskin.
HE INFLUX into the
city has been one of
the most marked
characteristics of the
last century.
The urban inhabi-
tant has gradually
outbalanced the rural,
while his ways of thinking and living have
become the most prevalent. With these
conditions, the cities have become over-
crowded, and the flat house, with its at-
tendant evils, has made its appearance.
This is particularly true in the East,
and the first noteworthy object that strikes
the Eastern visitor in the West are the
many delightful homes that abound, rang-
ing from the pretentious mansion, cost-
ing $100,000 to the cosy bungalow of per-
haps $1,000.
Flat houses do exist here, modern, up-
to-date, and well equipped, but the objec-
tion to living in them is strongly devel-
oped in the Western temperament. They
566
OVEBLAND MONTHLY.
are but make-shifts, and every young man
either owns or is in a fair way to own, a
lot where he hopes ultimately to build his
house.
Around the entire city, land companies
who make it their business to provide
sites for home builders, are busy with
teams and graders, laying the foundation
for future urban settlements.
To the architect and artist, Tacoma
abounds with opportunities. Mature is
lavish in her bounties. It is no exaggera-
west. Compactness, convenience and
adaptability to the intended purpose char-
acterize the lay-out of the plan, and neces-
sarily so, in a country where white ser-
vants are impossible, the much desired
Chinese unobtainable and the Jap inexcus-
able.
The use of the native woods, fir and
cedar, influence the appearance of the ex-
terior considerably. In an increasing
number the timber is left in its natural
state, and treated with soft shades of
ON NORTH YAKIMA AVENUE, TACOMA.
tion to say that the flowers are perennial.
At the present day (November 1st), it is
possible to gather violets on the prairies,
and it is no uncommon thing for the Ta-
coma citizen to deck his lappel with a
rosebud gathered from his own porch on
Christmas morning.
The home is the production of en-
vironment and circumstance, and these
two elements are playing a prominent
part in. developing the home of the North-
brown greens and grays — which not only
throw the grain of the wood into high
relief instead of hiding it as paint would,
but also blends quietly with the surround-
ings.
And the lawns! What visitor to Eng-
land does not cherish refreshing recollec-
tions of the long, rolling greensward of,
say, Chatsworth or Haddon, turf centuries
old, as soft and spongy as velvet — they will
in time find their equal in Tacoma — the
TACOMA— FOE AMBITIOUS MEN.
567
smooth stretches of green in Wright Park,
and the trim, tidy lawns surrounding the
smallest cottages, testify to this.
The bungalow has made its appearance
from California, and although the cli-
matic conditions of the famed land of
sunshine and flowers make the bungalow
peculiarly adaptable there, it fits snugly
into the landscape of the Northwest, and
has come to stay, and gives every promise
of playing as large a part in the architec-
tural scheme of the resident district here
in the South. The rainy months render it
useless, and during the summer a large
number of householders migrate to their
summer cottages and camps on the shores
of Puget Sound or American Lake.
The interior of these homes are gener-
ally furnished with good taste and judg-
ment. The modern arts and crafts fur-
niture being used in a setting of interior
finish stained to harmonize.
Open fireplaces, quaintly designed, in-
gle nooks, beamed ceilings and buffets, are
CHARACTERISTIC INTERIOR OP A PICTURESQUE BUNGALOW IN TACOMA.
as it does in California.
The bungalows are for the most part
characterized by simple lines and unpre-
tentious treatment. It is only in their
long, low, one-story appearance that they
resemble their Indian prototype. Apart
from that, they are largely an expression
of the individual tastes and needs of their
owners.
The porch and Pergola does not play
so large a part in the scheme as is evident
introduced, as demanded by the taste of
the owner.
The larger and more pretentious houses
are designed in every known style under
the sun. They do not show perhaps the
same good taste that is noticeable in the
smaller dwelling, nor are they as inter-
esting; this is always the case when prece-
dent is closely followed, a style that was
suitable to Medieval England or Colonial
America needs considerable modification
568
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
before it can be made adaptable to modern
conditions and needs. However, apart
from the one criticism, the modern home
of the wealthy Westerner, are striking ex-
amples of the opulence of their owners,
and will bear comparison, with any homes
in the country; neither money nor time
has been spared to obtain the best talent
and material possible. Sitting as they do
on the high bluff overlooking the Sound,
with an interminable range of sky, wood-
land and water, terminated on the East
lery; his life is too full for dreaming; he
is essentially the man of action, and dry
as dust relics have no charm for him. The
wheat ships are at the waterfront carrying
every flag that flies. There is no lack of
interest on the wharves, and a man of
imagination can spend pleasant hours
watching swarthy Italians, blue-eyed Ger-
mans and fair Englishmen taking on the
golden harvest of grain. And what can
be more beautiful than the ships them-
selves, the tapering masts, spars, ropes
DRAWING INTERIOR OF A COSY TACOMA HOME.
by the snow topped Olympics, and on the
West by Mount Tacoma, these homes are
located in a situation second to none in
the world.
The new comer from the East is apt
to complain of the rawness and newness
of Western life; he bewails the lack of
local color; he misses his art galleries,
museums and all the adjuncts that render
life supportable in Cosmopolitan New
York. The Westerner needs no art gal-
ancl hallyards outlined like gossamer webs
against the dark green of the firs.
The Sound itself is a revelation to the
visitor from the Atlantic seaboard. In-
stead of sand dunes and sea grass, rocky
headlands and long, bleak shore lines, the
bluffs rise abruptly from the very water's
edge, clothed with dense masses of ma-
drona, fir, cedar, alder, Devil's clubs,
syringa, spiral, in a growth .that is almost
tropical. In the early spring and summer
TACOMA— FOE AMBITIOUS MEN.
569
the tangle is gay with flowering shrubs, the
blossoms of berry bearing bushes to be suc-
ceeded in the late summer, and autumn by
a wealth of wild fruit.
The Sound has all the advantages of an
inland lake, with the breezy tang of the
sea, but beware of its placidity, for it can
be as wild in its moods as its mother ocean,
and it is never generous in its warmth.
The first thing the arrival by boat sees
on arriving in Tacoma is the tower of the
City Hall, and the last thing that reaches
his ears as he rounds Brown's Point is the
musical cadence of its bells striking the
hour. The City Hall, as a whole, may lay
itself open to criticism, but it has many
claims to endear itself to the heart of Ta-
coma.
In conclusion, it is trite to say that this
is the City of Opportunity to the home-'
seeker, the home-lover, the man of quiet
family tastes, the lover of nature in all
her moods (and that includes all branches
of art and philosophy). No less than to
the man of business and the manufacturer.
There is room in this great, growing, vig-
orous young city for all, and Tacoma bids
them WELCOME.
WHAT MADE TACOMA
BY C. E. FERGUSON.
EFOEE THE day of
sawmills on this in-
land sea, all shores
were fully-clad with
nature's prodigality of
timber; the beaches
were strewn with its
waste, piled and over-
lapping; with windfalls cast up by the
waves, and with flotsam stranded in the
ebb. Half a century of lumbering has
sufficed to remove but a small fraction of
the vast forests. A first view discloses a
marvelous panorama. . Where the ax-man
has not entered, the trees, from the rare
scale of 15 feet diameter at the butt, aver-
aging five, tower in straight shafts to the
height of 200 to 300 feet and more — often
200 feet to the first limb. From the sum-
mit of the Cascade range to the Pacific
Ocean, and from Southern Oregon north
across Washington and into the upper re-
gions of British Columbia. They stand in
PARKLAND, A
NEAR TACOMA.
BEAUTIFUL SUBURB
a dense mass practically unbroken, save
bv the larger water bodies and streams.
— the grandest of all forests present or
past. Among these monster growths the
density is often such that the area of a
single claim, 160 acres, yields 15,000,000
feet of lumber, worth in the market here
a quarter of a million dollars. So thick
is the growth that a man or animal pass-
ing at the short distance of 50 yards goes
unseen. Beneath this lofty canopy of fir
spines, through which the sky rarely
glimpses, the solitude seems omnipotent;
nothing but complete darkness could ex-
ceed the gloom of its shadow, despite the
blazing sunlight above.
A city founded in the heart of this for-
est began its era of vigorous growth with
little more than a thousand souls, only 27
years ago. To-day the city of Tacoma has
attained unto a population of more than
100,000. The moving cause was an Act of
Congress — July 2, 1864 — by which a
charter and land grant was made to the
Northern Pacific Company to aid in
building a railroad designated as the
northern route — from Lake Superior to
Puget Sound by way of the valleys of the
Missouri and Columbia rivers. Outside
of the financing and construction of the
projected road, a new and large field for
private enterprise was disclosed in land
and townsite speculations. Of course the
success of these speculations depended up-
on timely discovery of the definite line to
be adopted, including the location of the
Western terminus, where, it was believed,
a large city would speedily be built. The
act did not specify any particular point
for the terminus, and as that portion of
OVERLAID MONTHLY.
Puget Sound lying south of British
Columbia has an Eastern shore line of
more than 150 miles, there was presented
a wide range for the guessing match thus
appointed. The pioneers generally favored
the section south of the latitude of the
Straits of Fuca, the outlet to the ocean, as
being nearest to the probable route that
would be adopted through the canyon of
the Columbia river. The prospect attracted
attention throughout the Coast States, and
extensively in the East, and gave an im-
petus to emigration and settlement in the
Sound country.
But of all who came, Job Carr seems to
have been the first to discover and point
out the weak spot possessing more than
any other all of the features required to
meet the demands of the future city. He
came to Commencement Bay in the same
year that the granting act was passed,
seeking to locate a claim at the place most
likely to be chosen for the railroad termi-
nus. One day when Mr. Carr was going
to Gig Harbor fishing, in company with
William Billings, then farmer of the near-
by Puyallup Indian Reservation on the
northerly side of the bay, and some other
friends, he was attracted by the low and
favorable ground along the southerly
shore where Tacoma now stands. Rising
to his feet in the canoe, he exclaimed :
"Eureka ! Eureka ! there is my claim."
The spot was a wide depression in the
bluff where the ground sloped gently to
the water, a rare feature in the shores
of Puget Sound, which are usually marked
by high bluffs unsuited for the traffic be-
tween land and water. The locality was
suited by nature for the site of a great
city. The only question with Mr. Carr
was: "Is there anything better elsewhere
that is likely to win the prize?" To put
this matter at rest, he proceeded at once
to visit all likely places along the eastern
shore, spending five months in this work.
Respecting his conclusions, he wrote:
"When becoming fully satisfied that
Commencement Bay was the best harbor
on the Sound, had the best supply of
water, by far the best approaches and sur-
roundings, and from 20 to 25 miles the
best geographical position, I felt certain
it must become the terminus of the rail-
road, and made my location accordingly."
Mr. Carr and his sons, Anthony and
Howard, remained practically alone for
four years, during which he sought to con-
vince others of the correctness of his judg-
ment, and to induce them to file claims
there, and join him in the beginning of a
town. His effort was handicapped by dis-
couraging advices from railroad head-
quarters in the East, where little had been
accomplished. It was found that the
stock, though backed by the franchise and
land .grant, was not available to produce
sufficient funds, and the charter prohibited
the compamr from issuing mortgage or
construction bonds. After five years of
fruitless contriving to raise money, this
serious obstacle was finally removed by a
joint resolution giving consent of Congress
that the new railroad should issue bonds
.secured by a mortgage on its railroad and
telegraph line. But even then the com-
pany was not able to effect sale of either
stocks or bonds to advantage; and the de-
mand arose for extending the lien of the
mortgage so as to cover the land grant as
well as the railroad. Jay Cooke insisted
upon this demand, which was granted by
Congress in the following year, 1870, the
rate of interest being fixed at 7.30 per
cent. The bonds were deemed acceptable,
and Jay Cooke began to market them,
though not until he had received very ex-
tensive reports on the regions through
which the line was projected.
Up to this time the inability of the com-
pany to obtain the capital to begin work
caused its affairs to languish. The ardor
of those settlers on the Sound who were
waiting for the terminus became dampened
nearly to hopelessness. Their discourage-
ment was aggravated by the apparent
withdrawal of public interest which had
been diverted by the mighty rush of con-
struction going forward over vast ex-
panses of barren desert on the Union Cen-
tral lines to California.
Despite these^years of discouragement,
Job Carr held on with unimpaired faith
in the ultimate building of the railroad.
He wrote the officials of the company and
many other prominent men describing the
situation, and giving reasons for his con-
fidence that the terminus must be upon
the present site of Tacoma. The long
agitation finally bore fruit. In April,
1868, General "M. M. McCarver, acting
for himself, and L. M. Starr and James
- A -FOR AMBITIOUS MEN.
573
largely dispersed by the pa;
It was nor until 1870 that construction
began at the eastern end of the Northern
Pacific, and not until nearly ten years
later that a beginning was made at the
Pacific end going eastward. It was in
1879 work was commenced at the mouth
of the Snake river in Eastern Washing-
ton, building northeasterly toward Spo-
kane under direction of the general super-
intendent, General J. W. Sprague, and
during the Presidency of Frederick Bill-
ings of New York. This was eleven years
after the road by the middle route was fin-
ished across the continent into San Fran-
cisco, despite the two acts of Congress, one
autho; i^ing the Northern and the other
the UiJ.'u and Central, which were passed
on the s.iMie day. At the time that Gen-
eral Sprain, was engaged in extending
the line eas; \\Hrd along the Snake river,
construction v;i- noving with good speed
at the other er.J westward in Minnesota.
President Billings iad made favorable
sales of Northern I'unfic securil'^s to
German capitalists, an<J the prospec: of
obtaining all the additional funds required
was good.
This active work at both end? seemed to
give increased assurance of the early com-
pletion of the road, and the earnestness
displayed by the company in its moun-
tain surveys, maintained at large expense
to find a low pass and economical route
over the Cascade range in this State, com-
bined to awaken new interest in the West-
ern terminus. The town grew rapidly in
consequence. It continued to grow even
after Henry Villard, by acquiring control
of the Northern Pacific in 1881, defeated
for the time being the project of building
the Cascade division, and in all other pos-
sible ways diverted the influence of the
company away from Tacoma, and in fur-
therance of the interests of her rivals
whose citizens he afterwards, plucked, in
compensation, by unloading on them large
quantities of his thin, watered Oregon and
Transcontinental stock. He got near their
pockets by the promise of worsting Ta-
coma, whose competition they had so much
feared. They felt elated by the promise
and flattered by the invitation of so fam-
ous a promoter to invest. When the drop
came, the suffering among Henry Vil-
lard's stricken ones in the rival cities was
saddening. Villard came, did his mis-
chief, though it goes to his credit that,
during his administration, the Northern
Pacific Railroad was finished — not to the
Coast, but to a connection with his 0. R.
& N. line at Wallula on the Columbia
river, 200 miles in the interior short of the
mark intended by Congress and by the
projectors of the enterprise.
Villard passed like a fleeting show, but
Tacoma remained and grew apace. Fol-
lowing closely upon his enforced resigna-
tion as President, the Northern Pacific
Company pushed the Cascade division
over the mountains to Tacoma, began
hauling wheat here for export and estab-
lished a steamship line from this port
to China and Japan. Villard had op-
posed this extension in the interest of the
0. R. & N. road which is on the south
bank of the Columbia river, and which
he had promoted, built and employed as
an instrument to intercept the Northern
Pacific, on its way to the Coast. In
building the 0. R. & N. road he seized and
deprived the Northern Pacific of that
highly important part of its contemplated
line which passes through the Cascade
mountains at water level in the canyon
r* the Columbia river. To-day after a
lapse of 25 years the Northern Pacific
is ; •-. -aged in repairing the weak spot thus-
left ii. its earning power by building, con-
jointly with the Great Northern, a rail-
road o;i the opposite bank of the Colum-
bia, connecting with .i^s systems both east
and west of the mounta'n range, the cost
of rising being $15,000,0,"\
The decade from 1880 to i^^O was one
of vigorous expansion for Taconiri. There-
in she acquired railroad connection with
the East first, during Villard's control by
way of the Pacific division, Portland and
the 0. R, & N. line up the Columbia;
next, direct cutting out Portland and the
0. R. & N. — by the temporary track of
the switchback over the mountains through
the Stampede Pass in July, 1887, and
later by the long tunnel under that pass.
These were, of course, the great happen-
ings that all were awaiting for. People
came. -and so did money. Houses multi-
plied in all directions; stumps and deg1-
wood were blasted, dug and biv :•«<!;
streets were graded and sidewalks i:iid,
sewers built, gravity water, gas, electricity,
574
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
telephone and street car service intro-
duced, mills, factories and great smelters
were erected, setting up their busy hums,
wharves and warehouses built, coal mines
opened, shipping their product hither for
both local use and export; craft from all
parts of the world came for lumber, coal,
wheat, flour, and many other products.
Export trade in the wheat raised east of
the mountains, which prior to the comple-
tion of the Northern Pacific Railroad had
been monopolized by Portland, quickly
tions referred to, the figures for Tacoma
are 1098 and 36,006 respectively, showing
an increase in the ten years of over 3.170
per cent.
The Federal census of 1900 places the
population of Tacoma then at 37,714, a
gain in ten years of only 1,708 inhabitants
— or about four and three-quarters per
cent — against nearly 3200 per cent in the
decade just before. But we find the
greatest rate of growth in the current
period, and although the accurate count
ADMINISTRATION BUILDING, VASHON COLLEGE.
divided, the larger part of it soon going
foreign over Tacoma wharves. The popu-
lation of the whole territory advanced
rapidly, showering mutual benefits of
trade and community on every city, town,
settlement and settler, with the result that
Washington was admitted to Statehood
November 11, 1889, with a population, as
shown by the Federal census half a ye'ar
later, of 349,390. This was a gain over
the report of the previous census of more
than 350 per cent. By the two enumera-
of the Census Bureau is not yet available,
we have in the school census and the Pub-
lic Director reliable sources of inform it ion
and which place the population of Tacoma
at figures exceeding 100,000. This is
even considerably less than is held to by
men of affairs whose observation more
than support this summing up of the
population, which is being added to daily
by new comers hailing from the Eastern
States and seeking new homes.
A chronic condition in Tacoma is want
TACOMA— FOB AMBITIOUS MEN.
of vacant houses for rent, and at the
same time the most active campaign of
building that the city has ever kno\vn.
According to this estimate, Tacoma'3
population has grown in the last seven
vears by the number of 62,286, or, round-
ly figured, at 9,000 a year, and the .growth
is moving at constantly accelerating speed.
Wherefore? _ Because of the mildness
of the climate, the convenience,, beauty
and healthfulness of the city and its scen-
ery and modern appointments and utili-
ties : its growing prosperity, its incom-
parable harbor and ship channel to the
ocean, its coal mines, its great lumber in-
terests, surpassing those of any other spot
in the world, its great wheat shipping in-
terests, supplying the hungry of Europe
and Asia, its commanding position of
gateway in one of the foremost interna-
tional trade routes to which will converge
nearly all traffic moving in that general
direction; its steam railroad facilities
come and coming in number, force and
power, the like of which has never been
?een elsewhere since the dawn of railroad-
ing. The people are arriving in Tacoma
for permanent residence, investment and
occupation because they believe she is des-
tined to become the principal city and sea-
port of the Pacific, and because of their
faith; therefore, that the property they
acquire here will enhance in value so as to
certainly yield them great profit.
The plat of the main city of Tacoma
was designed from the surveys of the rail-
road company's engineers, to suit the to-
pography of the ground, by the distin-
guished engineer and landscape gardener,
F. Law Olmsted, who laid out Central
Park in New York City. The townsite is
admirably adapted for a large city, being
upon a plateau, or rather a series of pla-
teaus upon the southerly side of the bay.
These plateaus are three in number and re-
sp (Actively 80 to 100, 100 to 200, and 200
to 300 feet above high tide. The engineers
of the Northern Pacific Railroad made ex-
haustive surveys and topographical plans
of the ground for about two miles of
water front, and one mile inland with
soundings along the shore line to -50 feet
ar low tide. The plan adopted for the de-
velopment upon the ground of this city
was somewhat similar to that of Mel-
bourne, well known to travelers as the
most beautifully laid out city of the globe.
. The site of Tacoma is undeniably the
best on the shores of Puget sound, for the
purposes of a great city, including as it
does an extensive area of 10,000 acres of
low, level land contiguous to the waters of
the Sound, and convenient for the uses
of the heavier business of the city, such
as approach and transfer between rail and
ship, and also a wide stretch of land ris-
ing from the level of the bay in convenient
steps, nowhere too steep for traffic, but
easy of access and affording perfect drain-
age and every other natural convenience
for residence.
The beauty and healthfulness rank Ta-
coma among the most desirable cities of
the world. The elevation being well up
in the region of pure air, affords one of the
prime requisites for health.
Along with this unusual excellence of
citty sites, Tacoma is quite happy in the
remarkable beauty of her improvements,
not only in the business houses and large
structures, but more especially in the
dwellings. Charming residences, many
very rich and costly, the grounds orna-
mented and cared for to the highest de-
gree, the streets paved with asphalt and
the sidewalks in cement for miles and
miles, commanding the view of the Sound,
Bay, Mount Tacoma, white sheeted to the
timber line, and the snow peak Sierras of
the Olympics. Tacomans invite you with
swelling pride to see Tacoma through their
avenues of fine residences, and they invite
the world to a contemplation of their
musical and religious advancement and
their public school system, its buildings
and yards, number, size and quality, offi-
cials, teachers, discipline, efficiency, regu-
lations and laws, and they insist that you
do not pass these by, for these also are ob-
jects of their great pride.
The relation of Tacoma to the wheat-
growing belt of Eastern Washington and
Oregon is a factor of importance among
the causes of her prosperity. That vast
scope of territory has come to be known
as the Inland Empire because of the power
derived from its extraordinarv fertility,
a metaphor more pretentious than that of
"Cotton is King," since here, presumably,
we deal with the implication that Wheat
is Emperor. The whole of that area, of
original bunch grass prairie, comprising
576
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
the eastern two-thirds of those States, the
deep soil of which is intermixed with vol-
canic ash, is so vital in the elements that
contribute to the production of grain that
it is deemed practically inexhaustible.
Of wheat grown in that section, Tacoma
will ship this season 15,000,000 bushels,
valued at $14,000,000, a quantity exceed-
ing her highest record by 3,000,000 bush-
els. The fleet carrying grain from Ta-
coma this season will be the largest in the
history of the port, and tramp steamers
will play an important part in the export
business. More than fifty vessels are now
on the way to Puget Sound, and while
some of the number will carry lumber, the
greater part of them will load grain at
Tacoma for Europe and the Orient.
Until the railroads leading to Tacoma
were built, all of the export wheat grown
in the Inland Empire was taken to Port-
land for shipment. But the navigation of
the Columbia river for deep sea vessels has
always been dangerous and expensive, ow-
ing to its shallow and shifting channel,
and the stubborn and defiant bar at its
mouth, which has refused to yield suffi-
ciently to the scouring device of the jetty,
so that it has become for the mariner and
all interested in that port a case of hope-
lessness and despair as to any radical
change for the better. Pilotage and tow-
age charges are necessarily high there. The
disadvantages and inconvenience attend-
ing wheat shipment at Portland were suffi-
cient to induce ship-owners to accept much
lower rates for charters from Tacoma.
The result is, that the wheat shipping
business is being gradually
transferred from Portland
to Tacoma. The advantages
possessed by this port over
the Columbia river are so
marked that wheat is worth
here from three to five cents
a bushel more than at Port-
land. This difference is
caused by natural advan-
tages of harbor and open,
unobstructed roadstead to
the ocean. As there is more
money in the wheat crop of
Oregon and Washington
than in all the other agri-
cultural products combined,
it is seen that the securing
of the wheat shipping business is im-
portant, and goes far to explain the pros-
perity and rapid growth of Tacoma.
In the lumber industry, it is claimed
that Tacoma leads all other places in the
world in point of the quantity manufac-
tured. Her 17 sawmills, including that
of the St. Paul and Tacoma Lumber Co.,
at the head of the class with a daily
capacity of 550,000 feet, and that of the
Tacoma Mill Company, following next, at
250,000, have an aggregate daily capacity
of 1,845,000 feet. She is therefore a
large factor in the lumber business of the
State. There is, of course, a large and
growing export trade in lumber and red
cedar shingles, but most of these products
go East by rail. To get an idea of the
magnitude to which this industry has
grown, consider the figures of record for
the 14 years from 1893 to and including
1906. In the former year there was
shipped by rail from Washington alone
85,840,000 feet of lumber in 5,365 cars;
in the latter year, 1,524,440,000 feet in
76,222 cars. In 1893 the rail shipments
of shingles amounted to only 1,202,410,-
000 pieces, in 7,073 cars; in 1906 they
rose to 5,775,070,000 pieces in 33,971
cars. The total shipments by rail from
this State for the 14 years named were
lumber 6,384,692,000 feet in 367,115
cars, and 56,138,621,000 shingles in 335,-
211 cars. Taking account of this grow-
ing speed rate of the cut in reckoning with
the estimate of 210 billions of feet which
are yet standing, and compute the remain-
ing life of the forest. There is Western
Oregon, also, with nearly as much more.
DE KOVEN HALL, TACOMA.
BEAUTIFUL REGENT'S PARK BEFORE WORK WAS BEGUN.
TACOMA-A GARDEN CITY
BY AN ENGLISH ARCHITECT— ARNOTT
WOODROOFE.
MOST conspicuous fea-
ture in the develop-
ment of modern cities
is the tendency to sub-
urbanize them. One
hears of Garden Cities
from all parts of the
habitable globe. We
see photos of Letchworth, Bourneville and
Port Sunlight in every paper. Large sums
of money are expended to send American
students to Europe to gain the latest ideas
on the movement towards the improve-
ment of cities as evidenced in the great
European centers. This is all very laud-
able, and we can all admire and appreciate
the breadth of thought and vision that
takes in the whole distant horizon. But
after all, are not Americans a little back-
ward in acknowledging what American
brains and money are accomplishing along
the same lines? The recent traveler from
France will dissertate by the hour on the
genius that made Paris one of the foremost
cities in the world. He knows all about
the Louvre, the Opera House, the Boule-
vardes, and who Baron Haussmann was,
but ask him the name of the architect re-
sponsible for the Capitol at Washington,
or fcr information covering its develop-
ment as a center of civic beauty, and he is
not only profoundly ignorant, but pro-
foundly uninterested.
And yet it is safe to say that nowhere in
the world is there more intelligent effort
being expended in the creation of beauti-
ful buildings on sanitary and hygienic
lines, with a regard for the principles that
science enunciates as necessary for the
well being and health of the individual
than here in America.
One of the most recent, and at the same
time comprehensive, efforts along these
lines, is the Eegents' Park district of
Tacoma. The system of laying out the
property includes a central boulevard, 100
feet wide, with a 20 foot parking strip
in the center. This connection with the
boulevard system recently adopted by the
City Council runs for about 5 miles in
Regent's Park.
The lay-out of the streets is made with
as few straight lines as possible. It is a
popular modern prejudice that the lines
of streets and buildings ought to be
straight, and the impression is difficult to
eradicate. The Greeks — those past-mas-
ters in art — u?ed the curve wherever it
could logically Ne applied. Again, any
one familiar with the noble sweep of the
Grand Canal at Venice will not fail to
grasp the contrast, with the painfully
monotonous alignment of the modern busi-
ness street.
The same remarks are true in regard to
grade, the vertical curvatures of grades,
not only lessen the task of haulage, but
also appeal to the eye, and it is in adjust-
ing these curves that the highest skill of
the landscape engineer is called into play.
The head that directs the forces at work
in Eegent Park evidently understands the
value of these principles. The graceful
avenues, long eliptical grades of easy cur-
vature, the few straight lines, and the
streets that fit the contours of the site
with hardly any cuts at all, show evidence
of much skill and experience in handling
the problem.
It was our good fortune to be familiar
with the present site of Regent's Park.
Before the present plan was advanced, the
park itself was a confused mass of second
growth fir, and the varied undergrowth of
the Sound country, which, combined with
fallen trees and stumps, tended to make
a journey tedious and well nigh impossi-
ble.
That was less than six months ago. In
blowing up the stumps and fallen trees,
578
OVEELAND MONTHLY.
100 tons of dynamite was expended; the
logs and stumps were hauled together and
burned, and the work is still in progress.
Jt will continue until the whole of the
.company's holdings are in line with the
scheme that embraces the district. Won-
ders have already been achieved in the
short time of five months. In place of a
decayed forest, there are 12 miles of paved
streets, 24 miles of cement sidewalk, 2-1
miles of cement curbing and 24 miles of
sanitary sewer. The completed scheme
calls for 80 miles of paved streets, 200
miles of curbing and 200 miles of sanitary
sewer.
One of the most important, if not the
most vital, needs of a community is a con-
stant and uncontaminated supply of pure
water. The glacial drift surrounding Ta-
coma covers a river of pure water from
Mt. Tacoma. The Eegent's Park Co. have
sunk two wells and tapped this supply.
A third bore is now being sunk in the hope
of striking an artesian supply. The most
modern method of lifting water from wells
is by compressed air. It has many ad-
vantages over any other method, since two
to six times as much water may be ob-
tained from a given depth of well as with
any other known system.
One air compressor operates any number
of wells, which may be any distance apart,
so as not to affect one another. Water is
cooled and purified by the thorough mix-
ture and expansion of air, and the iron,
sulphur and gases are thrown off. The
water never comes in contact with the ex-
ternal atmosphere until it makes its exit
at the faucet for domestic use.
No more favorable commentary may be
given on the judgment that has selected
this system for Regent's Park than the
fact that in Newark, N. J., pumps of this
type are at work, having a total capacity
of one million gallons daily, lifting water
from three-eights inch artesian well.
Secondary only to pure water is the in-
stallation of a system of drainage as per-
fect as the conditions of the site will ad-
mit. With this end in view, the company
engaged an expert to visit and report on
the various systems employed by different
municipalities throughout the . United
with his report, they adopted the system
that by actual experience has been demon-
strated to be the most efficient. It is a
matter of common knowledge that the
sceptic sewage system has proved the most
efficient nad sanitary means for the dis-
posal of sewage extant.
The corners of the avenues are orna-
mented with elaborate urns, designed and
made "in situ" by the company's own
sculptor. The convenience of the public
is studied in the well equipped comfort
stations. In this one item, the manage-
ment of Eegent's Park is well ahead of the
City Fathers. This very necessary adjunct
to city life being conspicuous by its ab-
sence in Tacoma.
The entrance is tastefully designed
a well-known landscape architect with
fountain and shelter.
The company manufactures its o\
electric light and sewer pipe, maintains
its own landscape gardener, architect and
sculptor. Its machinery and equipment
in actual service, is worth approximately
$150,000.
The work is still in active progress,
and on its completion there will be pre-
sented one of the most comprehensive and
beautiful garden cities in the world. The
view obtained from almost any location of
REGENT'S PARK, AFTER THREE MONTHS' WORK.
TAGOMA— FOR AMBITIOUS MEN.
579
:he famed Mount Tacoma and the Olym- pany selected Larchmont in the rich
pics is superb. vThe general public is
showing its appreciation by not only in-
vesting in Regent's Park, but by making
their homes there.
In the face of these improvements and
others of a similar nature it does not re-
quire a great deal of faith to venture a
prediction that Tacoma will be everything
that its most enthusiastic booster can
claim for it. When comparative strangers
venture their time, energy and money as
the projectors of Regent's Park have done,
it is a great encouragement to those who
have pinned their faith to Tacoma.
One of the soundest criterions of a com-
munity's economic standing is the fact
that a large and increasing number of en-
rprising young business firms are mak-
Puyallup Valley, only -thirty minutes
from the center of Tacoma.
The Tacoma Exchange and Mart are
climbing up rapidly. These people make
a specialty of selling real estate by auc-
tion.
H. D. Freiberg is a recent new-comer.
Mr. Freiberg is proprietor of the Freiberg
Cloak and Suit House, and has built up
a very large business.
The Davies Electric Co. have been re-
markably successful. Their method of
doing business has won for them this suc-
cess.
A. Z. Smith, until a few years ago an
electrician in the U. S. Navy Department,
is forging to the front in Tacoma. Mr.
Smith made no mistake when he selected
ng Tacoma their headquarters. Many of this city. He saw the opportunity, and is
the best Known firms in the city were not rapidly winning success,
in existence five years ago. Taken at ran- Meacham & Co. are another real estate
dom, we may mention The Pacific Trac- firm doing lots of business, and are mak-
tion Company, which has just completed ing money for their clients.
H. B. Walters & Co., also J. H. Klin-
kenberg & Co., handle tijnber lands and
farms. Both these concerns have been in
Tacoma for many years, and are prosper-
its scenic line to "American Lake, a
piece of road unparalleled in the beauty
of its surroundings, the grade lying
through a natural park. The line termi-
nates at a lake which, it is no exaggera-
tion to say, is a gem. _
The German-American
Land Company are doing a
large business at Larch-
mont. The aim of the com-
pany is to take the urban
resident into the country
and put him on a tract of
land sufficient to maintain
him by its products. With
this end in view, the com-
ous.
SPLENDID NEW IMPERIAL BUILDING, WHICH WILL BE ERECTED IN TACOMA.
580
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
Another wide-awake concern in Ta-
coma, made up. of young men, is the An-
drus Gushing Lighting Fixtures Co. They
carry a large stock.
The National Land Company are
among the prominent concerns in the
real estate business in Tacoma.
The Sound Trustee are doing much for
Tacoma, having offices in Seattle and Ta-
coma. They make a specialty of selling
lots at Dash Point and Eedondo Beach,
and have a large number of purchasers
and prospective buyers.
S. C. Smith Optical Co. came here a
few years ago, and are to-day the leaders
in their line. They have won success by
their up-to-date and honest methods.
When it comes to banks, there is noth-
ing in the country which can surpass the
Fidelity Trust Company's new bank. It
is modern in every particular. Their busi-
ness, of course, is very large and still
growing.
Among the prominent department
stores is Ehodes Bros. Started 15 years
ago, these people are increasing their floor
space fifty per cent. Mr. H. A. Rhodes,
the founder, has always taken a great in-
terest in the building up of Greater Ta-
coma.
A noted physician and surgeon is A. P.
Johnson of Tacoma, who says that cit
is one of the healthiest places in the
world in which to live.
Prof. Albert Gray, teacher of voice, ii
Tacoma, trained in Paris, a student wifcl
Clara Pool of London, giving 75 lessor
weekly.
THE DISCOVERY OF SANTA GLAUS. "DO YOU KEEP BACKS f
THE HOUSE OF SANTA CLAUS
BY
MAY C. RINGWALT
BS, TO-MORROW will
be Christmas, but you
mustn't bother Auntie
Sue — don't you see
she's most pesked to
death ?'"
Mrs. Danby dropped
on her knees before
the kitchen stove and vigorously raked
down the ashes.
"It's well enough to talk about an all-
wise providence," she grunted, "but it does
seem as though somebody's miscalculated.
My back ain't made broad enough to carry
a sick-a-bed husband and the bringing up
of three little orphan children piled on
extra. Chris," she directed over her shoul-
der, still raking assiduously, "take one of
them biscuit pans on the table and fold a
newspaper nice and neat in its bottom —
your Uncle Abe's so finicky he likes his
trays as fixy as a Vanderbilt's."
"But, Aunt Sue," persisted Christobel's
silvery little voice, "why would talking
about Chris-mus bother you ?"
" 'Cause there ain't any use !" snapped
Mrs. Danby, rising stiffly .to her feet.
"Christmas won't be different from any
other day this year, and you might as well
make up your mind to it. Bring the tray
here, child. Sakes alive, what with buying
your Uncle Abe's patent medicines and
keeping the whole outfit of you going in
clothes and victuals, your Auntie Sue
can't afford Christmas presents — hold the
tray closer to the stove, Chris — and if
Auntie's pocket was full of money, how
could she take time off of her sewing to
go all the way to Middletown to buy you
youngsters toys ? Don't you know a? well
as I that Coronna Johnson's beau is com-
ing from the mines to spend to-morrow
with her, and she must have her new
dress to-night — with all them button-holes
to work yet !"
"But, Auntie Sue," triumphed the sil-
very little voice, "you don't have to go to
Middletown and you don't have to spend
any money. Santa Glaus will bring us
just what we want — tin soldiers for Ted
and Alfie's picture book, and — and my dol-
lie with yellow curls and blue eyes and —
and a pink gress and red beads round her
froat."
"Nonsense!" grimly ejaculated Mrs.
Danby. "The idea of a big girl like you
believing in Santa Glaus! There ain't
such a thing, you little silly — no more
than there is fairies, and — look, what
you're doing, Chris!"
Mrs. Danby narrowly averted the threat-
ened landslide by jerking the tray out of
the child's hands and setting it in safety
on the table.
"I wouldn't be a cry-baby if I was
you !"
The words were sharp, but there was
no anger in the eyes turned upon the weep-
ing child. She had not intended to be
cruel, but it had always been one of her
theories that "no good came of hoodwink-
ing small fry; let them have the truth
straight out like grown folks and they'll
get used to things sooner." She had so
many theories about children; so little
practical knowledge of their sensitive
hearts and imaginative minds.
"There, honey, Auntie's sorry she can't
get you the dollies for to-morrow, but per-
haps by and bye you and I can go over to
Middletown together and — what did you
say, pet?"
"I've lost my daddy and my marmie,"
sobbed Christobel, her pathetic little fig-
ure swaying back and forth, "and now
I've lost — my Santa Glaus."
The awaiting tray was forgotten, the
impatient invalid upstairs, the unworked
button-holes — and all her theories about
children — as Mrs. Danby sat down and
582
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
gathered the heart-broken little one in her
arms.
"Auntie Sue didn't know what she was
saying," she crooned. "Of course there is
a Santa Glaus ! Always has been ! Al-
ways will be !"
The ready faith of a little child shone
through tears.
"You was only fooling?" quivered the
eager voice. "And he's going to bring the
picture book and the tin soldiers and the
dollie, after all?"
Mrs. Danby gained an instant's time by
kissing a flushed little cheek.
"Chris must be a brave little girl and
not mind," she began, avoiding the gaze
of the upturned brown eyes. "Of course
there is a Santa Glaus, but," — the fingers
of her imagination, stiff from disuse, fum-
bled for a leading thread out — "but our
hill's too steep for Santa Glaus to climb.
Fleshy folks daren't climb hills," she im-
pressively added. "It's like to give them
palpitation of the heart."
"But Auntie Sue," cried Chris,, "Santa
Claus doesn't neb-er wall;! Don't you re-
member how he always rides in his sleigh
with the eight reindeer?"
A sudden light brightened Mrs. Danby's
dull, careworn face. "He rides most gen-
erally always," she quickly parried, "but
not up our hill since the accident. You
see," she explained, glorying in her men-
dacity, "three years ago — the Christmas
before your Uncle Abe took sick — one of
them reindeer fell on the way to our
house and broke his hoof, and the old
gentleman hasn't been here since."
"Was it Vixen that hurted herself, or
Dormer, or — or Blitzen?" anxiously in-
quired Chris.
"Vixen," replied Aunt Sue, without
hesitation. "But, land of love, child, your
Uncle Abe's breakfast will be frozen stiff
if I don't take it up-stairs this minute !"
Chris submissively slid down from Mrs.
Danby's lap. She had not lost her Santa
Claus. There was comfort in that thought
— for it hurt to lose "peoples" whom you
loved, but the mother instinct within her
still clung fondly to the dollie of her
dreams.
"Auntie Sue," she coaxed, "you couldn't
poss'bly meet Santa Glaus at the foot of
the hill, could you ? You're nice and thin,
you know," she added, considerately, "so
you wouldn't get the pap'tations climbing
back."
"Meet Santa Claus when he comes in
the middle of the night?" Mrs. Danby's
voice grew impatient again as she bent to
the neglected breakfast tray. "Of course
I couldn't ! You mustn't bother Auntie
Sue any more, Chris."
And Chris didn't — convinced of the use-
lessness of further teasing. But by no
means had she given up hope — or the dol-
lie in pink frock and yellow curls — for the
child's character was a strange combina-
tion, with her baby faith and a strength of
will far beyond her years — '"the youngest
and the oldest young 'un I ever see,"
Aunt Sue had reported to Uncle Abe the
morning the stage had brought the three
unwelcome little orphans into her life.
The whole attention of Chris's active lit-
tle mind was now concentrated on work-
ing out the Santa Claus problem along
other lines. Since Auntie Sue would not
meet him, some one else must. Uncle
Abe was bed-ridden. Alfie walked with a
crutch. Ted was subject to croup.
"I've got to be the else, myself!" whis-
pered Chris, her heart pounding against
her frightened ribs, for not only was the
middle of the night a bugaboo, but the
bottom of the hill a land of mystery un-
visited by any of the three little orphans
during the short, shut-in weeks spent in
their new home.
Mrs. Danby did not see Chris again un-
til dinner for the morning being bright
and clear — the first time in days — all
three youngsters were allowed to go out
and play in the snow. But had she not
been so profoundly ignorant about child-
ren, her suspicions would have been
aroused that afternoon when Chris indus-
triously taking out bastings, sat beside her
for more than an hour without speaking
once, an excited glow in her cheeks, a far-
away look in the brown eyes, quite as much
occupied with space as with the white
threads piling up in her little lap.
She did notice that the child ate Ic^
supper than usual, but she still had two
more buttonholes to work, and was so
"frustrated" about getting through she
forgot everything else. And later, when
she peeped in the nursery before running
over to Coronna Johnson's she found
Chris the "tightest" asleep in the nursery
THE HOUSE OF SANTA GLAUS.
583
of all the children, for while Ted was toss-
ing off his covering and Alfie talking gib-
berish in his dreams, the little sister lay
motionless, her breath coming and going
with the quiet regularity of clock-work.
But the moment the outside door of the
little house slammed, Chris sat up in bed
with chattering teeth — not from the cold,
for she had crept under the covers dressed,
but from the excitement of adventure now
in finger touch.
Not daring to light a candle, she
groped for Ted's rubber boots, tied a little
plaid shawl over her head, slipped into her
warm, heavy coat.
As she tip-toed into the hall she heard
a strange noise and stood still, her
breath caught painfully in her throat.
Then a low laugh escaped her. It was her
Uncle Abe snoring. She stole stealthily
on down the stairs, every step full of
funny little creaks and grunts.
Chris was not afraid of the dark, shut in
by the walls of a home, but as she closed
the front door behind her, there was some-
thing awful in the limitless night out-of-
doors, with the sky and its pala stars so
far away from the great white earth clad
in its robes of snow.
"I daresn't!" whispered the child, a
tiny, shrinking shadow on the outskirts of
immensity. "I daresn't!"
But down at the foot of the long white
hill twinkled the beckoning lights of the
little railroad town ; down at the foot of
her frightened heart twinkled the beckon-
ing hopes of a picture book, tin soldiers
and a dollie in a pink frock.
Squaring her small shoulders and set-
ting her little teeth, she darted forward in
a wild run.
Her breath gave out before she was
half way down, and she had to stop more
than once for it to "catch up," but finally
she reached the bottom of the hill, the
blood throbbing in her cheeks, every fibre
of her little being a-tingle and a-thrill.
"I was awful scared," she whispered in
the quaint little way that she had of talk-
ing aloud when excited, "but I corned just
the same ! I'm here waiting, Santa Glaus."
She peered up and down the cross-road,
her ears straining to catch the first jin-
gle of sleigh bells, her eyes straining for
the first glimpse of a reindeer.
But the night was wrapped in silence —
and a cold wind that cut through Chris.'s
little body and lashed her face in pain.
Supposing she had come too late! Sup-
pose Santa Glaus had already driven by!
Supposing she should have to go home
with empty arms, climb the long, dark hill
alone without the dollie in a pink frock
hugged to her breast !
Perhaps if she went down the cross road
a little way she could see better — at any
event it would wake up her feet that were
growing so very sleepy.
Bravely she fell into a little trot, al-
though every ste.p pricked with pins and
needles.
The road gave an unexpected turn, and
from the platform of the railroad station
a bright light flashed in the darkness. As
suddenly a luminous thought dispelled
Chris's fears. In her old home her marmie
had told her that Santa Glaus lived on
the other side of the mountains. She was
on the "other side" now. If she ran on
she must surely come to his house !
But there was more than one house — at
least nine houses counted off on her fin-
gers. How could she tell which belonged
to Santa Glaus?
She gave a little cry of joy. At the end
of the road was a house different from all
the rest — a long, low, narrow house with
a long, broken row of lights.
"Hello, what have we here ?" exclaimed
a jovial voice at her elbow, for Chris in
her excitement had run into a man com-
ing from the opposite direction.
"If you please, sir," she panted, point-
ing with a trembling little hand, "isn't
that Santa Claus's house over there?"
The stranger turned. "Why, of course,"
he laughed. "But what are you doing out
this time of night, kid? Don't you
know —
But Chris had disappeared like an elfin
sprite. She hadn't time to talk. She
hadn't time even to remember her "man-
ners." The house of Santa Glaus was in
sight !
When she came up to it, a very serious
difficulty threatened to dash aside her
hopes. The funny flight of steps that led
to the tiny, enclosed porch at each end of
the long, low, narrow house did not reach
the ground, and at first, try as she would,
her short little legs could not make the
climb. But at last, by dint of will and
584
OVEELAND MONTHLY.
the help of a beautiful shining railing, she
succeeded in scrambling up.
Twice she knocked on the magnificent
door that opened on to the porch. Twice
she called: "Santa Glaus! It's me!
Please let me in !"
No answer came. For a moment, she
hesitated. Then her fumbling fingers
turned the wonderful gold knob and the
door swung heavily open.
Breathlessly Chris entered a narrow
hall that led her with sharp turns into a
long, narrow room more beautiful than
anything that she had ever seen.
The room was brilliantly lighted by
magnificent hanging lamps down the cen-
ter ; the arched ceiling was painted a lovely
green, and on either side, high above her
head, was a row of magic little windows
made of colored glass; while to her right
and left hung mysterious curtains in fin-
ger touch as she went down the room
calling: "Santa Glaus!" — heavy green
curtains with red velvet labels bearing fig-
ures in gold hanging down their backs.
"Dar'st you peep between them ?" whis-
pered Chris. "Yes, m'am, my dear," she
whispered back, "if you'll be very careful
not to touch anything inside."
So two of the curtains were cautiously
pushed apart.
"0~ooo-oh !" cried Chris.
Behind the curtains was a beautiful bed
with two snowy white pillows, shining
sheets and a gorgeous bright-colored blan-
ket.
In a daze of delight, she slowly contin-
ued down the room, pushing apart the
curtains — now on her right; now on her
Left.
"All beds!" she whispered. "And all
twins !"
But why did Santa Claus need so many
beds? Could she be in the wrong house
after all ? No, the gent'man had told her
that Santa Claus lived there — besides,
couldn't any one see at a glance that this
was an enchanted palace?
Her big brown eyes flashed with quick
thought. The beds were for the Christ-
mas fairies, who made Santa Claus's toys
and dressed his dollies; the poor, tired
fairies who would wish to go straight to
Sandman's land when they returned with
Santa Claus from filling all the Christ-
mas stockings.
The big brown eyes twinkled with mis-
chief now. They must soon be home. Sup-
posing she hid behind the curtains; laid
down and made believe she was asleep —
wouldn't it be a fine joke on a Christmas
fairy to find a little girl in her bed ?
As quick as a wink she climbed into the
bed with a gold figure 8 on the red velvet
label hanging down its back; pulled the
curtains close together— with a sigh of
content stretched out her aching little body
and shut her heavy eye-lids.
"Im only make-believing!" she mur-
mured, drowsily. "Only — make — be —
liev — ing !"
* * * *
Number 14 reached the flag station of
Boulder half an hour late that Christmas
eve, and Uncle Jerry Mason, impatiently
stamping up and down the platform was
in no amiable mood when he boarded the
train.
"Give me a lower in the middle of the
car, Billy," he irascibly muttered to the
smiling porter, "and make up my berth as
quick as you can. I'm not a spring rooster
any longer, and the ride over from the
Bumble Bee has about laid me out."
"Sorry at de inability to 'commodate
you, sah," grinned Billy, "but de trabel
on dis here road's mighty spry, and there
isn't an indisposed berth in de whole cah."
"Well, I'll have to take the drawing-
room, then."
Billy dramatically rolled the whites of
his eyes. "Dat's chuck full, too, boss. An
invalidated lady and free children and a
canary bird."
The air between the Pullman and the
day coach rose in blue spirals as the irate
passenger and his valises bumped across
the platforms, but every one on the road
knew the old miner, and the conductor
met his wrath with jocular good-humor.
"Come, now, Uncle Jerry," he laughed,
"things may not be as bad as they look!
We take on another sleeper at Live Oak,
and I'll see what I can do for you then."
"At Live Oak?" grunted Uncle Jerry.
"Thought there wasn't more than twenty
houses in the whole blooming place."
"Ther're not, but Live Oak's the nearest
station to Stag Leap Inn, and the city
folks have taken a notion to going up
there 'for a little frolic in the snow, so
twice a week we run a special Pullman to
THE HOUSE OF SANTA GLAUS.
585
accommodate them. Number 9 drops her
there at seven o'clock, and the folks can
go on as early as they please, but we don't
pick her up till ten forty-five. Going to
the city for Christmas, Uncle Jerry?"
"Yes — and the more fool for doing it!
There ain't a lonelier place on this bloom-
ing earth than a big town ! Nothing's as
it used to be," he sighed, "and the boys
have all scattered — moved across the great
divide for the most part."
"No folks of your own?"
"Not since Mollie and the little gal
died."
"Your daughter and grand-child?"
He nodded. "The little gal made Christ-
mas worth while. If she'd lived," he went
on, dreamily stroking his long white
beard, "there ain't a thing in this here
world that she couldn't have had !"
"Struck it pretty rich, haven't you,
Uncle Jerry?"
"Yes, damn it! Struck the vein I'd
been after for fifty years— when my old
woman and Mollie and the little gal are all
dead."
The locomotive whistled for the next
station; the conductor hurried away;
Uncle Jerry hunched, himself up in the
seat, his overcoat bundled into a pillow.
But in spite of his weariness, for a long
time he could not sleep, and it seemed as
though he had scarcely drifted into uncon-
sciousness when he was aroused by a hand
laid on his shoulder.
"We've attached the other sleeper, Un-
cle Jerry. I spoke to the porter, and you
can have lower 8."
The conductor picked up a pair of
valises and led the way through the first
Pullman into the second.
"Lower 8, sir," said the porter.
And giving him a tip and instructions
about the valises, Uncle Jerry made his
way to number 8, ducked in, and drew the
curtains.
He was hastily removing his boots when
a twitching of the bed-clothes startled his
attention. The berth was in semi-dark-
ness, but, as he bent over, light enough
for his horrified eyes to discover the form
of a little girl lying beside him, her tousled
head upon the pillow next the window.
The stupid porter had given him the
wrong berth ! The child was waking up.
She would cry out! There would be a
scene. He must make his escape before
discovery !
He snatched his boots, and laid a quick
hand upon the curtains. But the fasten-
ing had twisted, and try as he would, he
could not undo it. Meanwhile so great
became the upheaval beside him that dis-
cretion forced him to turn and face the
emergency.
"Santa Glaus !" cried a silvery little
voice. "Santa Glaus!" And two little
arms were flung about his neck.
He gave a sigh of relief. Dear old
Saint Nick had come to the rescue ! He
would live up to his role until the child
went to sleep again and he could have it
out with the porter !
"How did you know that I was Santa
Glaus, little one !" he laughed, kissing a
wee patch of forehead.
" 'Cause," said Chris, tremulously, a lit-
tle shy after the first outburst of delight,
" 'cause 1 corned to your house on purpose.
Only — only I 'sposed I was in one of the
Chris'mus fairies' beds, and—
She paused abruptly, clutching his wrist
in terror. "Feel the earthquake !" she fal-
tered. "Ain't you awful scared, Santa
Glaus?"
He put his arm about her and drew her
to him. "There's no earthquake, sweet-
heart. It's just the motion of the train."
"The train?"
"Yes, honey-pie. Don't you remember
that you went to sleep on the cars ?"
"Why, no, I didn't!" exclaimed Chris.
"It was in your house — at the foot of
Auntie Sue's hill what you haven't
climbed since Vixen broke her hoof."
Little by little, question by question, he
learned the whole story — her loss of mar-
mie and daddy; the long journey across
the mountains; about sick-a-bed Uncle
Abe and worn-out Auntie Sue ; of the pov-
erty of the little house on the hill-top, and
the "middle of the night" quest of Santa
Glaus.
"But is it possible," he asked, "that a
bright, child like you did not know that
Santa Claus's house could take to its
wheels and whisk away by magic when-
ever it wished?"
"Honest?" cried Chris, clapping her
hands. "We're flying truly real?"
"Of course," he laughed. "My sleigh
upset and I lost my whole pack in a snow
586
OVEKLAtfD MONTHLY.
drift, so there was nothing for me to do
but run down to the city, and lay in a
new supply of toys. It will make Christ-
mas a little late, but I guess the young-
sters will forgive me, and meanwhile you
and I will have the time of our lives I"
"But Auntie Sue !" gasped Chris. "She
won't know where I am !"
"A little bird will tell her. I'll send a
trained one back with a message at the
next stop."
"And — and you'll get Alfie his picture
book and the tin soldiers for Ted, and my
dear dollie with yellow curls and pink
"Cross my heart !" gaily pledged the old
gentleman. "Anything else?"
She snuggled closer, a little hand lov-
ingly laid upon the long white beard.
"i)o you keep backs?"
"Keep what?"
"Backs," she repeated earnestly. "You
see," she explained, "Auntie Sue feels aw-
ful bad 'cause the back she's got isn't
broad enough. I don't 'zactly un'stand,"
she went on breathlessly, "but when peo-
ples have a sick-a-bed husband and free lit-
tle orfounds piled on extra they needs
broaderer backs, and she'd be so drefful
pleased to find the right kind in her
Chris'mus stocking. You'll give her one,
won't you, Santa Glaus?"
He bent and tenderly kissed her.
"You may depend upon me for that, lit-
tle one," he promised, and his voice
thrilled with a strange, new happiness.
THE CHRISTMAS STORY
BY
MARY OGDE^T
On that first glad Christmas Morn
When the Prince of Peace was born,
Wise men three came from afar,
Following a Herald Star.
Star that, going on before,
Stopped above a stable door.
Here they found a Little Child —
Holy Babe, and Mother Mild—
In a manger low He lay,
Cradled on the fragrant hay.
Gifts they offered, rich and rare,
Frankincense, and gold and myrrh;
Offered, also, reverently,
Homage of the bended knee.
Angels, chanting in the skies,
Bade the Shepherd Folk arise;
Leave their sleeping flocks by night,
Go to see the wondrous sight.
Awed they came, before the day,
Seeking out the place He lay.
Thus the rich, and thus the poor,
Gathered at that stable door;
Symbol of His will to save
Greatest king, or humblest slave.
Echoes still the glad refrain,
"Peace on earth, good will to men !"
SIEGFRIED---OF THE CHICORICA
RANGE
BY ETHEL SHACKELFORD
ID ANY ONE run into
you a moment ago in
getting around this
corner in a hurry?"
sharply demanded
Simondson of a well
set up young man in
cowboy outfit who was
lounging in front of a shop window.
"Well," drawled the cowboy in pleas-
ing tones and a Texas accent, "if you-all
call yourself anybody, I reckon some one
did !"
"What are you doing, standing out here
in the rain, anyway?" rudely continued
Simondson. Things had all gone very
wrong on the paper that day, and this par-
ticular member of the staff was in a very
bad humor.
"Oh, nothin' much," indifferently re-
plied the boy. "Just wastin' a little time
watchin' fools of my own brand."
-Thanks."
"Welcome!"
Simondson's ill-nature began to give
way to a feeling of cordiality toward the
stranger. "I came back to apologize to
you," he ventured. "You don't belong in
Denver, I infer. Can I do anything for
you — direct you anywhere?"
"If you'd eat supper with me, I'd thank
I you," said the boy, simply. "I so often
have to eat alone on the range I'd like to
[cut it here in the city. Ain't there some
[place nearby where they serve music with
meals?"
"'I know a restaurant where there is a
Hungarian orchestra," said the newspaper
inian, quite naturally assenting to the
stringer's proposal to dine with him.
rTwas anything for copy !
The keen eyes of Simondson at once saw
tlio menu conveyed little meaning to the
cowboy, so he tactfully assumed the duties
of host, while his companion, in frank
wonder, watched the musicians tune their
instruments. It seemed the cowboy was
in charge of a trainload of cattle, East
bound, at the moment side-tracked in Den-
ver. He said his name was Hansen — Lars
Hansen. And, indeed, his Xorse blood
showed in his powerful build and blonde,
manly beauty. With the skill of a suc-
cessful man of newspaperdom, Simondson
drew him out further, ascertaining that
when the boy was an infant, his parents
had immigrated to Texas. There Lars
Hansen had grown up, and from there had
wandered pretty much all over the West-
ern cattle country. Denver was the largest
city he had ever seen, but he was going to
Chicago and New York after he had de-
livered his cattle.
The orchestra began to play — a sweet
little popular song, full of feeling. The
cowboy leaned forward on the table, in
rapt attention, regardless of his cooling
food. The restaurant was almost empty,
for it was early, and its usual frequenters
from the newspaper, tourist,, shop and
business worlds were not yet assembled.
"I know that song," the boy said, earnest-
ly. "A girl in the Palmer Lake eating
house was hummin' it, an' she told me the
words."
"Go on, sing it, then," encouraged
Simondson, in a voice which reached the
leader, an acquaintance of his.
"Sure ! You sing eet !" agreeably
echoed the foreigner, as he tenderly car-
ried the air on his violin. Neither the re-
porter nor the musician had the slightest
idea that the cowboy would really do it,
but to their surprise, the boy walked to
where the players sat, his movements be-
ing marked by his clinking spurs and his
leather trappings. There he stood, more
than six feet, splendid in his high-heeled
boots, bearskin chapareros and brown flan-
nel shirt; one hand idly toying with the
588
OVEKLAND MONTHLY.
ends of the red silk handkerchief about
his throat, and the other touching the
piano. Even then every one supposed he
was joking, but in apparent sincerity he
said to the leader, "Start her from the be-
ginnin', boss!"
"Sure !" responded the small Bohemian,
with German accent and Bowery direct-
ness. With grins of amusement, the musi-
cians played the opening bars of the song,
but their expressions changed from ridi-
cule to attention ; from attention to en-
joyment— and then to wonder, as they
sympathetically accompanied the most
thrillingly beautiful high voice any of
them had ever heard.
"The world's growing older each day,"
sang the true, rich voice, convincingly.
And then, with touching regret, "The
world's growing colder, they say." The
next phrase found the restaurant hushed;
even the waiters stopped where they stood,
holding their heavy trays, as the boy went
on, with life's sorrows crowded into his
words and tones, "The world has no place
for a dreamer of dreams. Ah ! then if s
no place for m,e — it seems." Alone, at a
table directly in front of the boy, sat a
world-worn woman from whose half-closed
eyes tears started and rolled gently down
painted cheeks ; and' when the boy at last
reached the end of his song with the pas-
sionate entreaty, "Give me your hand;
Say yon understand — my dearie," the
woman broke down utterly, and cried.
The magnetism of this unaffected, ear-
nest boy was very strong. The unbroken
silence which followed his appealing sing-
ing embarrassed Simondson — any evi-
dence of sentiment always made him ner-
vous— but he, like the others, was fasci-
nated. It was all too serious, someway.
The first to plunge into the general tense
indulgence into memories which this song
suggested was the leader, who came out,
harshly, with "Mein Gott ! But you haf a
golt mine in dat voice !" Simondson called
for the bill as soon as possible, and strug-
gling to vanquish his returning irritability
he hurried his unusual guest once more
out into the rain.
"Can you play the piano, Hansen?''
asked the reporter, abruptly.
"T reckon so," drawled the boy. "They
have got an organ on the next ranch to
ours; I can play that. But I don't under-
stand readin' those queer sheets of music
you see around places sometimes. I just
play what I hear in the pine trees and
what the birds sing. I think maybe I
could play this rain storm if I tried."
Simondson took his guest to his board-
ing house, and asking him to sit down in
the parlor, he excused himself for a mo-
ment. Shortly he returned with two young
men and three girls, the first to have fin-
ished dinner. He introduced them, and
remarked that Mr. Hansen, having a few
hours to spend in Denver, had consented
to play for them. This would have been
more than a surprise to most persons in
Hansen's position, but the boy was not dis-
turbed at all. He smiled — then they all
smiled. Just as naturally as he would
jump into his saddle, he seated himself at
the piano.
Long before he had emerged sufficiently
from his dreams to notice his quiet, ab-
sorbed audience, the parlor was filled with
people who sat or stood about him,
charmed. Suddenly he wheeled about on
his stool, and said, with an attractive flush
of self-consciousness, "You-all are very
kind, but I'm afraid I'm over-doin' this
business !" But they would not let him
leave, so he sang; first, the little song of
the restaurant ; then, just tones on a vowel
of his own, to rippling water sounds that
seemed to trickle up the keyboard. From
this fantasy, he gradually progressed into
an improvisation more daring. 'It was a
wild song made of rapturous chords and
strong, un rhyming, Norwegian words. The
soul of Wagner would have understood it,
perhaps, but the souls of the boarders sim-
ply accepted it, some of them in spiritual
pain.
The boy felt the power he held over his
listeners, and in a state of partial hypnot-
ism himself, he began a song of joy. Even
the least imaginative of the excited board-
ers were mentally enjoying great expanses
of country ; plains and mountains ; endless
space and freedom — freedom of soul and
freedom of body — and love at its greatest
height; love when it is far above all
human necessities and limitations — Love
itself, with all things living and still, a
composite theme.
After the climax of this almost unen-
durably beautiful rhapsody, the genius
stood irresolutely a second, gazing at the
SIEGFRIED OF THE CHICORICA HAXGE.
589
room full of men and women, with a half-
timid, half-defiant look coming through
the veil that had crept over his blue eyes
during his singing. "I — I bid you-all
good-bye !" he said, with a touch of sad-
ness. And before any one had collected
himself enough to answer or thank him,
the boy was out in the rain, with Simond-
son close at his heels.
"Here, wait a minute !" called Simond-
son, breathing hard in his efforts to keep
up with the strides of the cowboy. "I
want to talk business with you. Slow
down and take it easy. We'll go down to
the office."
The brisk walk in the chilling rain had
brought Hansen out of his trance, so when
the two men were seated in Simondson's
corner of the local room, he was again the
cowboy, simple, sincere, sane. "Now, let's
get down to business," began the reporter.
"You and I are strangers, but it occurs
to me that we can work together. I know
a lot about music; in fact, I was once the
musical critic of a great daily. I know
voices, great talents and great tempera-
ments when I meet them. From some of
your Scandinavian ancestors you have evi-
dently inherited a tremendous gift. You
are a cowboy now, just a common cow-
pun cher, making at the most about sixty
dollars a month. Well, now, Hansen, how
would you like to make a couple of thou-
sands of dollars a night?"
Hansen smiled indulgently.
"I mean what I say, Hansen ; this is no
jesting matter. I will volunteer to make
you the greatest tenor-robusto this country
or any other country ever saw ! You have
the voice, the 'divine spark,' the physique
and the health. You look to me like a
man who can work, too. I can make a
Siegfried of you that will drive the world
mad ! Do you want to be a great singer ?"
The boy grew attentive. "God !" he
whispered to himself, dreamily. "God!
I'd give my soul to be able to sing all I
fee] I"
Columbus discovering America had no
such light in his eye as had Simondson
discovering his Siegfried. "I say," he said
whimsically, "you didn't happen to have
any Vikings in your family in the old
country, did you?"
"I don't know of any," replied the boy
in good faith. "I think my folks was
mostly all Hansens, Larsens and Holtzes."
Before Fortune took him West, Simond-
son stood very well in the artist world of
Xew York. His acquaintance was large
and worth while. He knew just the right
teachers for this boy; just the men who
would risk money on his education; just
the musical directors who could manage
his career to the best advantage. In fact,
until this moment, Simondson had never
appreciated his own importance. He never
before had felt a call to further the inter-
ests of any one ; and the thought of all he
was able to do for this gifted boy quite ex-
hilarated him.
There was something indefinable in the
individuality of Lars Hansen which
touched the imagination. Simondson, the
unemotional, practical newspaper man,
caught himself vaguely picturing this
handsome youth (the only man possessing
the requisite talent who looked the part
of Siegfried, to his thinking) thrusting a
stage sword into a huge stage dragon,
which snorted stage flames and breathed
out volumes of stage fumes; and finally
killing the wriggling monstrosity with the
abandon of a man born to the life of the
wilds. And then Simondson fancied he
could see his god-like protege lying out
in a stage forest, listening to the wood-
land sounds made by a fine orchestra, and
barkening to the exquisite soprano notes
supposed to belong to the nice little stuffed
bird that is cleverly pulled about on wires,
while telling the wondrous hero, Siegfried,
of the glorious bride that lies awaiting
him on a rock, surrounded by flames of
stage fire.
"The real Siegfried at last !" thought
Simondson. "The ideal youth, vibrating
with life. The best type of romantic
manhood. And oh ! what a voice ! A big
man, too, in every sense of the word ; not a
fat, stubby, middle-aged, beer-logged Ger-
man tenor with a worn out throat !" Col-
lecting himself abruptly, he turned
thoughtfully to the cowboy. "You know,
of course, Hansen, that it will take several
years of hard study, don't you ?"
"Yes," answered the boy, absent-mind-
edly.
"Tell me, would you like to be the
greatest Siegfried of the age?"
Hansen looked puzzled. "Who?" he
asked.
590
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
"Siegfried, man, Siegfried. But of
course you don't follow me ; I forgot. They
don't. have grand opera out on the Chico-
rica Range, do they?"
"I reckon not," drawled the boy, with
his irresistible simplicity. "Least I
never heard of havin' anything pleasant
there but barn dances, and a variety show
about once a year in the town hall. Grand
opera is supposed to be pleasant, ain't it ?"
"Supposed to be — yes," acknowledged
Simondson, smiling.
"Mostly singing, ain't it?" inquired
Hansen. "The actors don't talk much,
do they?"
"No. The audience usually does all the
talking."
Simondson was very soon going home to
New York on a vacation, anyway, so he
and Hansen agreed to meet there. With
this understanding they parted, interested,
full of plans, and excellent friends — Han-
sen going back to his cattle tram, and
Simondson seating himself at his type-
writing machine, full of copy that he had
but an hour to pound out before press
time.
After arriving in New York Simond-
son very quickly had everything arranged
for the starting of his Siegfried's career.
The great Herr von Moltz tried Hansen's
voice, and was so sure of its rare quality
and possibilities that he volunteered to
reduce his prices, thus experiencing a new
sensation in life. He had coached Han-
sen on Siegfried's greatest solo, just as a
test, teaching it to him parrot fashion,
for the boy had no technical knowledge
of music at all. The results were so
startlingly good that the little German ac-
tually embraced Hansen at the last rehear-
sal, to that young man's horror. Von
Moltz intended to put his pupil at once on
scales and fundamental exercises to train
him from the beginning for his life work,
but he could see now what a temptation
it was going to be to show off this voice too
soon, for like many folk of northern blood,
Hansen was endowed by nature with an
open, free method of voice production. He
sang as the wind blows, not knowing how,
nor caring.
What was needed was money, and
enough of it to pay all of the boy's ex-
penses during his student years; and to
"aise the necessary loan, with only a voice
as security, was not an easy matter. How-
ever, Simondson, with no little difficulty,
had persuaded five rich men and women
he knew to advance, jointly, a fund of
some thousands of dollars, provided they
were satisfied that this voice warranted the
chances they were taking. To this end,
Simondson and Von Moltz were giving a
musical evening at Von Moltz's studio.
The capitalists were coming with their
friends; the best of Simondson's New
York acquaintances were asked, as were
also Von Moltz's prominent patrons and
promising pupils. The music master's
studio was an exceptionally interesting
sort of place in itself, and the party which
restlessly awaited the arrival of Mr. Lars
Hansen of the Chicorica Range was im-
pressive indeed.
Miss Leona Smith had already sung
several times too often, but once again
she was escorted to the piano, in hopes of
diverting the people who were growing
weary of waiting for a voice they had aF
decided was a myth anyway. It was ten
o'clock. Von Moltz fluttered about ner-
vously, assuring everybody that the United
States had never before produced such a
voice as the one they were soon to hear.
Simondson had been madly telephoning
everywhere and despatching messengers in
search of his protege. He was verging up-
on desperation, when a door at one end
of the long room was thrown open and
Hansen burst in, dramatically.
The New Yorkers had doubtless uncon-
sciously expected to see a man in conven-
tional evening attire, so when they saw,
framed by the doorway, a superb specimen
of manhood, six feet two in picturesque
cowboy dress, their attention was caught
instantly, and held fast. The boy w;i>
pale, alarmingly pale, in spite of his coats
of tan, and his wealth of yellow, waving
hair he shook back as an angry lion might
have done. One strong hand clasped the
scarlet handkerchief at his throat, and
for a moment that seemed an hour, he
stared at the people before him, like an
animal on guard. His eyes burned with
the force of tremendous feeling, and there
* were deep blue-black circles under them
that made his expression all the more in-
tense.
"I'll have to get you-all to excuse me for
bein' late," he began, stepping upon the
SIEGFRIED OF THE CHICORICA RANGE.
591
dais, unsteadily, and lurching forward into
the piano as the hot air of the place struck
him in the face. "I suppose you-all will
wonder why I didn't clear out without dis-
turbin' you, but I ain't no coward, an' I
couldn't quite do that. The time has come
for me to have a say in these here doin's,
myself; an', as talkin' ain't in my line, I
had to stop an' get a littl' help. I ain't
drunk — understand, ladies an' gents — not
drunk. I'm jes' sort o' warmed up. It
helps me talk, an' I've got to talk ! You-all
('specially the newspaper man from Den-
ver) are good to me, an' I thank you. But
most always kind people get so damned
wrapped up in their own kindness that
they can't see anything but what goes on
in their own heads. When this here sing-
ing business first begun, it was a kind o'
joke to me — then it got all mixed up an'
serious, an' not bein' used to city games,
I didn't know how to get out. I don't
hold it against the man from Denver for
goin' on over my voice. I jes' thought
when his friends heard me they'd set him
right, an' he'd come to. People in their
right minds out my way don't set much
store by my voice, an' I reckon they know
best. Ladies an' gents, I might as well
be honest with you. I ain't fitted for the
job of chasm' my voice up an' down a
piano board three hours a day, for God
knows how many years, like a sick girl-
cat. Why, I'd smother to death! So to
hell with the whole fool business ! That's
a good place, too, for your noisy, dirty
streets that shut a feller in like an un-
aired jail. If I've got any singin' to do,
I'll sing to the trees and the rocks .and
the mountains and the sagebrush of my
own country, where we drive decent wag-
ons on top of the earth, not stiflin' toy
cars half way down to the devil. My coun-
try, ladies and gents — my country — the
only country — God's country, where you
can breathe, an' the saloons is far enough
apart to let a feller sober up once in a
while ! No miserabl' littl' waxed-up
music teachers in mine ! No more sissy
voice exercises on 'ah-oo-ah-oo!' Give me
a man's cry like we yell to our herds o'
snortin', pawin' steers ! To the devil with
this heer feller Siegfried, whoever he is,
an' all of his family! I'm off for a good
horse an' the prairies, do you hear me,
ladies an' gents? But before I go, I want
you to understand I know you-all mean
the best in the world — an' I ain't drunk
when I'm sayin' it, either. I jes' needed
a littl' help, an' I got it. Your whole
town is aflood with it — this same kind o'
help, an' pretty poor stuff at the price, too.
I'm off, I say, an' thank you kindly for
what you meant to do! But next time,
ladies an' gents, better know your bronco
better before you go so far. Good-bye to
you — good-bye ! I'll be glad to see you
any time out on the Chicorica Range. I'm
pleased to meet you-all, an' I hope you
won't think I'm drunk. I'm glad to have
seen your roaring, reekin' town. Any time,
remember, glad to see you on the Range
— always plenty of grub an' a bunk some-
where. Good-bye to you — you-all ain't so
bad in your own way, but our whisky'll
do less to you than yours does to us, so let
us hear from you if you come our way.
Good-bye !"
And a sharp, penetrating slam of a door
was all that New York had left of its
"coming Siegfried" — "Siegfried of the
Chicorica Range.
Read this Splendid Essay by Jack London!
THE DIGNITY OF DOLLARS
BY
JACK LONDON
HAT a blind, helpless
creature man is after
all, and how hope-
lessly inconsistent !
He looks back with
pride upon his goodly
heritage of the ages,
and yet obeys unwit-
tingly every mandate of that heritage; for
it is incarnate with him, and in it are im-
bedded the deepest roots of his soul. Strive
as he will, he cannot escape it — unless he
be a genius, one of those rare creations
to whom alone is granted the God-given
privilege of doing entirely new and origi-
nal things in entirely new and original
ways. But the common, clay-born man,
possessing only talents, may do only what
has been done before him. At the best, if
he works hard, and cherish himself ex-
ceedingly, he may duplicate any or all
previous performances of his kind; he
may even do some of them better; but
there he stops, the composite hand of his
whole ancestry bearing heavily upon him.
And again, in the matter of his ideas,
which have been thrust upon him, and
which he has been busily garnering from
the great world-harvest ever since the day
when his eyes first focused and he drew,
startled, against the warm breast of his
mother — the tyranny of these he cannot
shake off. Servants of his will, they at
the same time master his destiny. They
may not coerce genius, but they dictate
and sway every action of the clay-born.
If he hesitate on the verge of a new de-
parture, they whip him back into the well-
greased groove; if he pause, bewildered,
at sight of some unexplored domain, they
rise like ubiquitous finger-posts and direct
him by the village path to the communal
meadow. And he permits these things,
and continues to permit them, for he can-
not help them, and he is a slave. Out of
his ideas he may weave cunning theories,
beautiful ideals, but he is working with
ropes of sand. At the slightest stress,
the last least bit of cohesion flits away,
and each idea flies apart from its fellows,
while all clamor that he do this thing, or
think this thing, in the ancient and time-
honored way. He is only a clay-born;
so he bends his neck. He knows further
that the clay-born are a pitiful, pitiless
majority, and that he may do nothing
which they do not do.
It is only in some way such as this
that we may understand and explain the
dignity which attaches itself to dollars.
In the watches of the night, whether in
the silent chamber or under the eternal
stars, we may assure ourselves that there
is no such dignity, but jostling with our
fellows in the white light of day, we find
that it does not exist, and that we our-
selves measure ourselves by the dollars we
happen to possess. They give us confi-
dence and dignity and carriage — aye, a
personal dignity which goes down deeper
than the garments with which we hide
our nakedness. The world, when it knows
nothing else of him, measures a man by
his clothes; but the man himself, if he be
neither a genius nor a philosopher, but
merely a clay-born, measures himself by
his pocket-book. He cannot help it, and
can no more fling it from him than can
the bashful young man his self-conscious-
ness when crossing a ballroom floor.
I remember once absenting myself from
civilization for weary months. When I
returned, it was to a strange city in an-
other country. The people were but
slightly removed from my own breed, and
they spoke the same tongue, barring a cer-
tain barbarous accent which I learned was
far older than the one imbibed by me with
THE DIGNITY OF DOLLAES.
593
my mother's milk. A fur cap, soiled and
singed by many camp fires, half sheltered
the shaggy tendrils of my uncut hair. My
foet-gear was of walrus hide, cunningly
blended with seal-gut. The remainder of
my dress was as primal and uncouth. 1
was a sight to give merriment to gods and
men. Olympus must have roared at my
coming. The world, knowing me not,
could judge me by my clothes alone. But
I refused to be so judged. My spiritual
backbone stiffened, and I held my head
high, looking all men in the eyes. And I
did these things, not that I was an ego-
tist, not that I was impervious to the
critical glances of my fellows, but because
of a certain hogskin belt, plethoric and
sweat bewrinkled which buckled next the
skin above the hips. Oh, it's absurd, I
grant, but had that belt not been so cir-
cumstanced and so situated, I should have
shrunk away into side streets and back al-
leys, walking humbly and avoiding all gre-
garious humans except those who were
likewise abroad without belts. Why? I
do not know, save that in such way did
my fathers before me.
Viewed in the light of sober reason, the
whole thing was preposterous. But I
walked down the gang-plank with the mien
of a hero, of a barbarian who knew him-
self to be greater than the civilization he
threaded. I was possessed of the arro-
gance of a Koman Governor. At last I
knew what it was to be born to the pur-
ple, and I took my seat in the hotel car-
riage as though it were my chariot about
to proceed with me to the imperial palace.
People discreetly dropped their eyes be-
fore my proud gaze, and into their hearts
I knew I forced the query, What manner
of man can this mortal be ? I was super-
ior to invention, and the very garb which
otherwise would have damned me, tended
toward my elevation. And all this was
due, not to my royal lineage, nor to the
deeds I had done and the champions I
had overthrown, but to a certain hogskin
belt buckled next the skin. The sweat of
months was upon it; toil had defaced it,
and it was not a creation such as would
appeal to the aesthetic mind, but it was
plethoric. There was the arcanum — nay,
arcana — for each yellow grain conduced to
my exaltation, and the sum of these grains
was the sum of my mightiness. Had they
been less, just so would have been my
stature; more, and I would have reached
the sky.
And this was my royal progress through
that most loyal city. I purchased a host
of indispensables from the tradespeople,
and bought me such pleasures and diver-
sions as befitted one who had long been
denied. I scattered my gold lavishly, nor
did I chaffer over prices in mart or ex-
change. And because of these things I
did, I demanded homage. Nor was it re-
fused. I moved through wind-swept
groves of limber backs; across sunny
glades, lighted by the beaming rays from
a thousand obsequious eyes; and when I
tired of this, basked on the greensward of
popular approval. Money was very good,
I thought, and for the time was content.
But there rushed upon me the words of
Erasmus, "When I get some money, I
shall buy me some Greek books, and after-
ward some clothes," and a great shame
wrapped me around. But, luckily for my
soul's welfare, I reflected and was saved.
By the clearer vision vouchsafed me, I
beheld Erasmus, fire-flashing, heaven-
born, while I — I was merely a clay-born,
a son of earth. For a giddy moment I had
forgotten this, and tottered. And I rolled
over on my greensward, caught a glimpse
of a regiment of undulating backs, and
thanked my particular gods that such
moods of madness were passing brief.
But on another day, receiving with
kingly condescension the service of my
good subjects' backs, I remembered the
words of another man, long since laid
away, who was by birth a nobleman, by
nature a philosopher and a gentleman, and
who by circumstance yielded up his head
upon the block. "That a man of lead/'
he once remarked, "who has no more sense
than a log of wood, and is as bad as he is
foolish, should have many wise and good
men to serve him, only he has a great
heap of that metal; and that if, by some
accident or trick of law (which sometimes
produces as great changes as chance it-
self), all this wealth should pass from the
master to the meanest varlet of his whole
family, he himself would very soon become
one of his servants, as if he were a thing
that belonged to his wealth, and so was
bound to follow its fortune."
And when I had remembered thus much
594
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
I unwisely failed to pause and reflect. So
I gathered my belongings together,
cinched my hogskin belt tight about me,
and went away in the dark of night to
my own country. It was a very foolish
thing to do. I am sure it was. But when
I had recovered my reason, I fell upon
my particular gods and belabored them
mightily, and as penance for their watch-
lessness, placed them away amongst dust
and cobwebs — 0 no, not for long. They
are again enshrined as bright and polished
as of yore, and my destiny is once more in
their keeping.
Tt is given that travail and vicissitude
mark time to man's footsteps as he stum-
bles onward toward the grave; and it is
well. Without the bitter, one may not
know the sweet. The other day — nay, it
was but yesterday — I fell before the
rhythm of fortune. The inexorable pen-
dulum had swung the counter direction,
and there was upon me an urgent need.
The hogskin belt was flat as famine, nor
did it longer gird my loins. From my
window I could descry, at no great dis-
tance, a very ordinary mortal of a man,
working industriously among his cabbages.
I thought: Here am I, capable of teach-
ing him much concerning the field where-
in he labors — the nitrogenic-why of the
fertilizer, the alchemy of the sun, the
microscopic cell-structure of the plant,
the cryptic chemistry of root and runner
— but thereat he straightened his work-
wearied back and rested. His eyes wan-
dered over that which he had produced in
the sweat of his brow, then on to mine.
And as he stood there drearily, he became
reproach incarnate. "Unstable as water,"
he said (I am sure he did), "unstable as
water, thou shall not excel. Man, where
art THY cabbages?"
I shrank back shriveled up. Then I
waxed rebellious. I refused to answer the
question. He had no right to ask it, and
his presence was an affront upon the land-
scape. And a dignity entered into me,
and my neck was stiffened, my head
poised. I gathered together certain cer-
tificates of my goods and chattels, pointed
my heels toward him and his cabbages,
and journeyed town ward. I was yet a
man. There was naught in those certifi-
cates to be ashamed of. But alack-a-day !
While my heels thr,ust the cabbage-man
beyond the horizon, my toes were drawing
me, faltering, like a timid old beggar, into
a roaring spate of humanity — men, wo-
men, and children without end. They had
no concern with me, nor I with them. I
knew it: I felt it. Like She, after her
fire-bath in the womb of the world, I
dwindled in my own sight. My feet were
uncertain and heavy, and my soul became
as a mealsack, limp with emptiness and
tied in the middle. People looked upon
me scornfully, pitifully, reproachfully. (I
can swear they did.) In every eye I read
the question: Man, where art 'thy cab-
bages ?
So I avoided their looks, shrinking close
to the curbstone, and by furtive glances
directing my progress. At last I came
hard by the place, and peering stealthily to
the right and left that none who knew
might behold me, I entered hurriedly, in
the manner of one committing an abomi-
nation. 'Fore God ! I had done no evil,
nor had I wronged any man, nor did I
contemplate evil ; yet was I aware of evil.
Why ? I do not know, save that there goes
much dignity with dollars, and being de-
void of the one I was destitute of the
other. The person I sought practiced a
profession as ancient as the oracles, but
far more lucrative. It is mentioned in
Exodus ; so it must have been created soon
after the foundations of the world; and
despite the thunder of ecclesiastics and the
mailed hands of kings and conquerors, it
has endured even to this day. Nor is it
unfair to presume that the accounts of this
most remarkable business will not be
closed until the Trumps of Doom are
sounded and all things brought to final
balance.
Wherefore it was in fear and trembling
and with great modesty of spirit that I en-
tered the Presence. To confess that I was
shocked were to do my feelings an injus-
tice. Perhaps the blame may be shoul-
dered upon Shylock, Fagin and their ilk;
but I had preconceived an entirely differ-
ent type of individual. This man — why,
he was clean to look at, his eyes were blue,
with the tired look of scholarly lucubra-
tions, and his skin had the normal pallor
of sedentary existence. He was reading a
book, sober and leather-bound, while on
his finely-molded, intellectual head re-
posed a black skull-cap. For all the world
THE DIGNITY OF DOLLAES.
595
his look and attitude were those of a col-
lege professor. My heart gave a great
leap. Here was hope! But no; he fixed
me with a cold and glittering eye, search-
ing with the chill of space till my financial
^status stood beside me shivering and
ashamed. I communed with myself. By
his brow he was a thinker, but his intel-
lect has been prostituted to a mercenary
exaction of toll from misery. His nerve
centers of judgment and will have not
been employed in solving the problems of
life, but in maintaining his own solvency
by the insolvency of others. He trades
upon sorrow, and draws a livelihood from
misfortune. He transmutes tears into
treasure, and from nakedness and hunger
garbs himself in clean linen and develops
the round of his belly. He is a blood-
sucker and a vampire. He lays unholy
hands on heaven and hell at cent per cent,
and his very existence is a sacrilege and
a blasphemy. And yet here am I, wilting
before him, an arrant coward, with no re-
spect for him and less for myself. Why
should this shame be? Let me rouse in my
strength and smite, and by so doing wipe
clean one offensive page.
But no. As I said, he fixed me with a
cold and glittering eye, and in it was the
aristocrat's undisguised contempt for the
canaille. I was of the unwashed last es-
tate, a proletarian, a sans-culotte. Behind
him was the solid phalanx of a bourgeois
society. Law and order upheld him,
while I titubated, cabbageless, on the rag-
ged edge. Moreover, he was possessed of a
formula whereby to extract juice from a
flattened lemon, and he would do business
with me.
I told him my desires humbly, in
quavering syllables. In return, he craved
my antecedents and residence, pried into
my private life, insolently demanded how
many children had I, and did I live in
wedlock, and asked divers other unseem-
ingly and degrading questions. Aye, I was
treated like a thief convicted before the
act, till I produced my certificates of
goods and chattels aforementioned. Nerer
had they appeared so insignificant and
paltry as then, when he sniffed over them
with the air of one disdainfully doing a
disagreeable task. It is said, "Thou shalt
not lend upon usury to thy brother;
usury of money, usury of victuals, usury
of anything that is lent upon usury," but
he evidently was not my brother, for he
demanded seventy per cent. I put my
signature to certain indentures, received
my pottage and fled from his presence in-
continently.
]?augh! I was glad to be quit of it.
How good the outside air was! I only
prayed that neither my best friend nor
my worst enemy should ever become aware
of what had just transpired. Ere I had
gone a block I noticed that the sun had
brightened perceptibly, the streets became
less sordid, the gutter-mud less filthy. In
people's eyes the cabbage question no
longer brooded. And there was a spring
to my body, an elasticity of step as I cov-
ered the pavement. Within me coursed an
unwonted sap, and I felt as though I were
about to burst out into leaves and buds
and green things. I was exhilarated. My
brain was clear and refreshed. There
was a new strength to my arm. My nerves
were tingling, and I was a-pulse with the
times. All men were my brothers. Save
one — yes, save one. I would go back and
wreck the establishment. I would disrupt
that leather-bound volume, violate that
black skull cap, burn the accounts. But be-
fore fancy could father the act, I recollect-
ed myself, and all which had passed. Nor
did I marvel at my new-born might, at my
ancient dignity which had returned.
There was a tinkling chink as I ran the
yellow pieces through my fingers, and with
the golden music rippling round me, I
caught a deeper insight into the mystery
of things.
BY KATHERINE ELWES THOMAS
HE KUX from Edin-
burgh to Dumfries,
two and a half hours
by rail, is by motor a
morning's spin scarce
begun before finished.
Over fine hard roads
the motor flashes past
small towns and whitewashed villages,
heather and bracken
bordered burns
showing far up the
mountain sides tiny
ribbons of frothing
whiteness, through
valleys upon up-
ward stony slopes
of which grazing
sheep and cattle
picturesquely dis-
pose themselves un-
til almost before one
realizes it, the ec-
static breath in-
drawn at Edin-
burgh, expending
itself along the
curving highways
has exhaled itself in
the heart of Dum-
fries.
Quaint and love-
ly little town to
which the cable car
is yet unknown, not
the least of its
charm is the clatter of countless clogs
sounding from the childish feet invariably
following in the wake of the stranger.
The merry-hearted flock of ruddy cheeked
lads and lassies trooping along, gathers
numerical strength and wondering inter-
est as proffers rain thick and fast in
musically soft Scotch for services of the
small guides hither and yon. Dumfries
ROBERT BURNS.
stands out in the Scottish landscape as
that spot wherein Eobert Burns spent the
closing eight years of his tragic existence.
A locality in which every Burns tradition
is lovingly knit into the hearts of his
countrymen, holding place scarce second
to his "(Me Book."
"Gang doon th' High street, tourn to
ye lift thro' th' tanneries — and yons the
hoose," is the direc-
tion given of all to
whom inquiry is
made concerning
location of the
"Death House" you
seek.
When you pass
down the tortuous,
cobble-paved tan-
nery close to the
house to which
Scotland's master
of verse so often
trod his weary, sad-
dened way, there
comes a feeling
absolutely inde-
scribable.
The perfection of
the day has in no
wise changed. The
brightness of the
sun still warms the
air, yet of a sud-
den, as you stand
outside the tiny five
room plastered stone cottage that sheltered
the man of genius, there is borne upon you
heart-stirring conviction that you stand in
actual shadow of an overwhelming human
tragedy. In response to your request,
there is accorded permission to pass across
the lintel of the doorway; the same over
which he, poor soul, must so often have
trod in unspeakable anguish of spirit.
DUMFRIES, THE HAMLET OF EGBERT BURNS.
59?
Slowly, in deepest gravity of thought, up
the dozen well-worn, sharply-winding
sandstone steps to the landing above, you
go to enter to the righf one of the two
doorways opening on either side, and find
yourself in the death chamber. From
'{his you pass to the one so small as scarce
to afford place for table and chair to come
upon the one spot in all Scotland where
for eight years Robert Burns could close
the door and shut himself away to write
his deathless verse.
The spirit of the place, descending upon
roundings to revoke old condemnations
and judge anew -in that tenderness of
quickened comprehension of actual life.
And so understanding, that which has
heretofore been in mind of Burns as the
man, forever falls away to nothingness as,
with kindly hands, you softly place about
him the all-enveloping cloak of boundless
charity.
Tn the death chamber, as in no other
spot on earth, comes to every large-hearted
thinking person, understanding of how
the soul of the poet must have revolted at
CAERLAVEROCK CASTLE.
you, remains for days. As by magic, you
are part and parcel of that unspeakable-
ness that was daily life to the genius
whom the English speaking world to-day
holds so high in its heart, the marvelously
gifted being to whom life was from the
start such a pitiful snarl.
Robert Burns is no longer a century's
dead erring genius. Throbbing, tren-
chantly alive, the very air is vibrant with
his presence. From low-browed ceiling
and narrowness of four walls, the man
and poet looking full at you with mourn-
ful eyes, bids you, so cognizant of his sur-
the sordid poverty of his life, and perhaps,
more than all, at the meanness and nar-
row spirit of his times. Perhaps, poor,
long-dead erring poet, most of all at him-
self, because of the fetters wherewith he
bound himself, from which he might not
break away, that, holding him slave till
the last breath of life should be out of his
body, kept him there master of the house,
husband to good, faithful Jean Armour
and father to the brood of eight clamoring
children.
The man of genius, fresh from adula-
tion of the great world of London and
THE HIGH STREET.
Edinburgh, burning with the flame that,
breaking from the clod of his ploughboy
days, made him so easily peer among his
kinsmen, what must those last eight years
of existence have meant in that lowly cot-
tage set in such bitter, barrenness of sur-
rounding !
It could, in truth, signify naught but
THE BURNS DEATH HOUSE.
DUMFRIES, THE HAMLET OF ROBERT BUR. VS.
599
of the small writing room, on one of which
the poet in an idle moment scratched
"Robert Burns," you see across the cobble-
paved space the one-story public house,
wherein, alas, he spent long, roystering
hours, drowning for the time being, at
least, all consciousness of those things the
sober living of which was such harassing
canker.
The life that was indeed all tragedy
threaded but here and there with transi-
tory moments of joy, was destined during
what must have proved almost superhu-
manly trying circumstances in the life at
Dumfries to produce those songs and
poems wherein are epitomized to human-
ity the tender sweetness and pathos of
Scotland. For it was during the eight
years in Dumfries that Burns wrote some
of his most exquisite lyrics and love songs.
"Auld Lang Syne" is prominent in his
list. "A Man's'a Man for a' That" makes
one ponder as to what turbulent recollec-
tions of his reception by nobility of Edin-
burgh and London stirred so hotly in his
STATUE OF ROBERT BURNS.
daily and hourly crucifixion, from the tor-
tures of which, having tied his own hands,
he could hope for no release. Beyond all
else, perhaps, standing in that low-ceil-
inged room, you realize with more tremen-
dous force than is possible elsewhere, the
power of this man's writings. Of the in-
herent mental strength by which, wrench-
ing the galling chains of mental fetters, he
burst from Galvanism, threw from him the
narrowing creed that meant stagnation and
soul-starvation to his color mad, beauty-
loving soul. Utterly and forever cast
aside its all future damning verdicts, to
stand in estimation of his countrymen
literally a ship without a rudder. It may
have been, perhaps, as the Scotch have it,
that he was a man sailing without a com-
pass. But it was always for the land of
beauty that he sailed; the land of beauty,
melody, and, above all else, of color;
even if at times it chanced of color the
vividness of which threw in its wake the
denser shadow.
And for him there is the greater pity
when glancing through the window-panes
BURNS MAUSOLEUM.
CARLYLE S HOUSE, NEAR DUMFRIES.
mind as to inspire the splendid world-
familiar lines.
"0 a' the Airts the Wind Can Blaw,"
"0 Wert Thou in the Cauld Blast/' "Dun-
can Gray," "Tarn Glen," "Gae Fetch tae
me a Pint o' Wine/' were among the im-
perishable verse sung from the heart of
Burns during those closing years."
It was while lying in the stockyard of
Ellisland that he wrote "To Mary in
Heaven," at that period when the utter
profitlessness of his farming attempt, no
less than the intellectual significance of
his married life to Jean Armour were
staring him full in the face with their re-
spective deadliness.
Upon a window of the King's Arms
Hotel, doubtless with that same diamond
wherewith he inscribed his signature upon
his study window, the poet who himself
at the time held the position of excise-
man, wrote those famous lines, shown
with pride to all travelers :
"Ye men of wit and wealth, why all this
sneering
'Gainst poor excisemen ? Give the . cause a
hearing.
What are your landlord's rent rolls? Taxing
ledgers.
What premiers? What? Even monarch's mighty
gaugers.
Nay, what are priests, those seeming godly wise
men?
What are they, pray, but spiritual excisemen?"
The chair in which Burns so often sat,
the center of a merry party, is preserved
with care at "The Globe." The first house
occupied by him in Dumfries is situated
on Bank street, and marked by a memor-
ial tablet.
It was following a stay in Dumfries
that the writer, lodging in a nearby vil-
lage, was called one day to look at an an-
cient silver watch of monstrous propor-
tions, upon the back of which was the in-
scription, "Presented to Mr. Robert Burns
by his Brother Ploughmen of Aire, March
the 9th, 1785." This time-piece, long
since passed from the possession of the
family, was then being offered for sale.
Eobert Burns was elected an honorary
freeman of Dumfries some time before he
made his home there, and upon taking up
his residence, the burgess privilege of free
scholarship at the Grammar School was
extended to his family, while the gentry
of the neighboring countryside hastened
to do him honor.
From love of the man, no less than
pride in his genius, the townspeople in-
sured to Burns his salary during the long
illness which he endured with pathetic
heroism. Upon his death a fund was
raised for the widow and family, the lat-
ter being augmented the day after the
DUMFRIES, THE HAMLET OF ROBERT BURNS.
601
BURNS GREAT GRAND-DAUGHTER.
funeral by advent of its youngest mem-
ber.
The excellent statue of the poet, erected
many years after his death, occupies a
place at the top of High street, and is the
work of Mrs. D. 0. Hill, of Edinburgh. In
the Burns Mausoleum erected by the pub-
lic in the quaint little grave-yard scarce
a stone's throw from his home, rest the
remains of Burns, Jean Armour and five
of their sons.
The Death House is at present occupied
by the direct living descendants of Burns,
Mrs. Jean Armour Burns-Brown and her
daughter and namesake. This great-
grand-daughter bears a strikingly strong
resemblance to her illustrious forebear.
Formerly residing at the Burns place at
Ayr, Mrs. Brown and her daughter were
a few years since, through the generosity
of Andrew Carnegie, brought to perma-
nently reside in Dumfries, where he has
settled upon them a small income. Jean
Armour Burns, as the great-granddaugh-
ter is usually called, has an exceedingly
sweet voice, which may be heard on Sun-
days in the choir of a nearby church.
Dumfries has been the birthplace and
home of many Scotchmen to whom, in
later life, it has been given to attain dis-
tinction. The region for sixteen miles
about is intimately associated with
Thomas Carlyle. Ecclefechan was his
birthplace, at Templand he was married,
at Hoddom Hill is the farm whereon,
having been mentally perturbed by the
troublesome landlord, he warded off fur-
ther interference by tartly declaring "I
SWEETHEART ABBEY.
602
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
will grow laverlocks if I like, to the end
of time, so long as I promptly pay my
rent." Upon the breezy moorland of
Craigen puttock he wrote "Sartor Resar-
tus," during his seven years' occupancy
of the old stone house.
From historic days until the present
time, Dumfries has been associated with
many notables. J. M. Barrie was a pupil
at the Dumfries academy, where, in his
early youth, he was foremost in amateur
theatricals. Andrew Carnegie, who some
years since presented the town with a fine
public library, delights to visit Dumfries
because of its Burns associations. While
once Prince Charles Edward and his army
were quartered upon Dumfries; naught
has been altered in the room of the Com-
mercial Hotel where for two days Prince
Charlie lived a rollicking pace.
As early as the twelfth century, Dum-
fries was a royal burgh. The river Nith,
of which Burns sang, "I love thee, Nith,
thy banks and braes," divides Dumfries
from Galloway. In this spot would ap-
pear to have been enacted an important
part in the old war for independence be-
tween England and Scotland, for it was
the capture of Dumfries Castle from the
English garrison whereby Robert Bruce
effected the independence of his native
country.
It was at Friars Carse that the famous
drinking bout took place which inspired
Burns's poem, "The Whistle." To the
north of Dumfries lies Chichthorpe Linn,
the retreat of Balfour of Burley in "Old
Mortality." In Caerlaverock churchyard
is a tomb erected by Scott's publishers to
that son of Scotia from whom was drawn
the character of "Old Mortality." Caer-
laverock Castle, the scene of the siege of
Edward I, served in "Guy Mannering"
for description of Ellangowan.
THE CANDLE-STARS OF CHRISTMAS
TIME
BY MAHY OGDEN VAUGHAN
The Candle-Stars of Christmas Time
Are shining o'er the earth,
As shone the Star of Bethlehem
At our dear Savior's birth.
•
They twinkle on the Christinas trees,
And glow on altars dim,
Where worshipers, upon their knees,
Lift prayerful hearts to Him —
The Babe — who in the manger lay
On that far Christmas morn,
When, ere the breaking of the day,
The Christ — our Lord — was born.
A jeweled chain of sparkling flame,
They gird the world with light;
"Peace and Good Will to Man" proclaim,
As on that Hallowed Night,
When angels, chanting in the sky,
The listening shepherds heard,
And, seeking out the place He lay,
Knew and revered their Lord.
THE CALL OF THE WHISTLE
BY
HOO-00-0-0-0-0-0 !"
The voice of the
flying locomotive per-
colated among the
low hills and pene-
trated in a thin whis-
per to a small alfalfa
farm that nestled cos-
ily in the V of two uniting ridges.
"The man at work in the field started at
the sound and involuntarily spilled his
pitchforkful of hay onto the ground, in-
stead of landing it neatly on top of the
shock as he had intended.
"There she is again!" he exclaimed,
turning excitedly. "She's a-singing to
me. She's a-calling me. I've heard her
every night now for three weeks; morn-
ings, too, many a time. What's the use
of vegetating here, when all the world's
beyond those green hills ?
"She always gets me this way in the
spring," continued the man, turning re-
luctantly back to his work. "Only this
spring is the worst. It's six years now
since I quit the road, and it's no use fight-
ing against her much longer. The fever's
got me, and one of these days I'll chuck
everything and go, just 'cause I can't help
it."
"Whoo-oo-o-o-o ! Whoo-oo-o-o-o !' mur-
mured the whistle again, more distinctly
this time.
The man threw his fork violently from
him and started on a mad dash across lots.
"She's got to make the three mile run
around the loop. I can head her off and
get her as she slows down at the near
curve," he panted, leaping a ditch and
scrambling over a rail fence. He ran on
and on, hesitating for neither steep slopes
nor scraggy bottoms, wiping the sweat
from his face with his shirt sleeve until,
after a five minutes' race, he plunged
almost headlong over an embankment and
onto a iine of ties and rails.
But he was too late. The train had
slipped by a moment before and now its
rear end was leisurely rounding a sharp
curve one hundred yards beyond.
He stood in the middle of the track and
stared dully after it for a half minute,
then pulled a coarse bandana from his
overall pocket and mopped the perspira-
tion from his face.
"She's gone, and there won't be another
one through her until morning," he mut-
one through here until morning," he mut-
I am, anyhow! Guess I'll go home to
supper. Molly and the kids will be won-
dering what keeps me so late!"
With dejected face he made his way
slowly back to the hay-field, laboriously
climbing the fences which a quarter of
an hour before he had vaulted so lightly.
He shouldered the pitchfork, and, walk-
ing to the house, washed, then milked
the cow and washed again for supper.
Middleton Groves ate his evening meal
in unwonted silence, paying no heed to
the prattle of his sons, of three and five,
and keeping his eyes fixed, for the most
part, on his plate. His fair-haired young
wife regarded him with curious, then
troubled eyes. When he had eaten, he
retired to the dark sitting room and
stretched himself face downward on the
sofa. After she had finished her dishes,
the woman entered and lighted a lamp.
She stole down beside her husband,
smoothed his thick black locks with gen-
tle hands and whispered to him to tell
her the secret of his depression.
"Nothing at all, Molly," he answered,
wearily. "Just a little tired. I'm try-
ing to get all that hay shocked this week,
you know."
"I'm afraid you're working too hard,
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
Middle. . Forget the hay for a day. Let's
all go to the picnic at Mole's Grove to-
morrow. There'll be a baseball game,
some horse races, dancing and plenty of
ice cream and lemonade. We had a jolly
time there last year. Come along, Mid.;
it will do you good."
"No, I don't seem to care for picnics
any more. Then it's getting too hot for
starched collars. You can go in the
buggy and take the kids. I'll work in the
hay. Run along, now; it's time to get
the little fellows ready for bed."
"I don't want to go to bed," objected
Jimmie, the older of the small sons. "I
want to stay up awhile."
"Want to* 'tay up," echoed little Frank.
"No, you can't," said the mother, firm-
ly. "But if you're real good, I'll ask papa
to tell you a story before I tuck you in."
"Oh, papa's going to tell us a story,"
shouted Jimmie gleefully. "Hurry up,
Frank."
"No stories to-night," announced the
father, gruffly, from his sofa.
"Please, papa, just a little short one,"
urged the mother.
"Pwease, papa, dus a witta sort 'towey,"
entreated the three-year-old, tearfully.
"All right," relented the father, sitting
up. "What shall it be about — a bear?"
"No, no !" cried Jimmie, clambering
onto a knee, "about the grea-a-t big, black
choo-choo horse that goes toot ! toot ! and
dang ! lang ! lang ! and about the good
man that rides on top of the choo-choo
cars and the bad men with lanterns that
tr-y to find him and make him get off and
walk."
" 'Ess, 'bout choo-choo," assented Frank
vainly trying to reach the other knee.
The baby was hoisted safely to the cov-
eted perch, and with the three heads close
together and the mother listening fondly
in the background, a story of the "choo-
choo cars" was told. For a time the little
tads listened with eager ears, their eyes
round and bright with wonder and ex-
citement, but soon they nestled closer to
the masculine shoulder, and when the
vivid tale was done they were in dream-
land.
Middleton Groves rose softly and laid
his little sons in their tiny bed. Their
mother tucked the covers snugly about
them. Together the parents looked down
on the sleeping babes for a moment, then
the mother whispered :
"Oh, Middie, it scared me, that story.
It frightened me to know that you were
the one who went through all those dan-
gers, and it frightened me more to see
your eyes shine in the telling, as if you
loved the life and might some day be lured
back to it. If I knew you would ever
really wish to go through such experiences
again it would break my heart. Tell me
you never will."
The husband put an arm gently about
the slim shoulders and pressed a kiss on
the tremulous mouth.
"Never worry 'your heart about that,
girlie," he assured her, cheerily. "I care
too much for my little wife and kiddies
to ever think twice of such a thing."
But the locomotive whistle invaded the
dreams of Middleton Groves that night,
and he fancied himself riding again the
precarious deck of a careening passenger
coach. He felt the throb of the iron steed
at the head of the train, and watched the
twinkling stars through the drifting
clouds from the smoke-stack. A tramp
rides a passenger train with the exhilara-
tion of a hunter astride a mettlesome steed
—while inside the passenger at three cents
a mile dozes dully as in a dog-cart.
When morning came, the young farmer
went back to his cocks of hay, while his
wife drove away with the children to
spend the day at the picnic. At noon he
repaired to the house and ate a cold lunch,
returning to his labor with renewed en-
ergy. He had worked hard the six years
of his married life. The little farm was
now paid for, the debts had been wiped
away, and improvements were coming on
apace. He loved his family; he had
many plans for their future, and as the
sweat poured from his face, he gloried in
his labor and entertained no notion of de-
serting.
But as the sun dropped low an un-
easiness fell upon him. A rippling breeze
from the direction of the railroad can-
yon whispered of the faraway, and into
his limbs there came a trembling of pre-
monition. Vainly he watched for the
coming of his gray horse and top buggy
along the east road.
Suddenly on the whisper was borne a-
barely audible note, a note he well knew,
THE CALL OF THE WHISTLE.
60o
for in years past his ears had strained for
it at all distances and at all hours of the
night and day.
At the sound, he drove the prongs of
his fork deep into the soft ground and
leaned on the handle, his body quivering,
and his face working in an awful strug-
gle with the thing that was gripping him.
A second murmur came, and he was lost.
Pushing the fork from him, he took two
strides toward the house, turned back,
grabbed his coat from a nearby fence post
and dashed off across the fields.
When he came in sight of the railroad
track, a long string of boxcars was mov-
ing noisily around the curve. Before him
gaped an open door, and in a final burst
of speed, he leaped forward and up, land-
ing on his stomach on the edge of the
doorway. The breath was knocked from
his body by the impact. Half in and half
out, he balanced unsteadily for a dozen
seconds, then his legs kicked vigorously,
and he wriggled out of sight into the car.
He was a tramp again.
Like a prisoner issuing from a dungeon
into the freedom of the sunlight, Middle-
ton Groves leaped to his feet and screamed
in hysterical happiness. He took off his
hat and waved it above his head with three
hoorays and executed a hilarious dance on
the dusty floor of the car.
"Hi-you ! Hoopla !" he yelled. "Whoop
— whoop ! I'm off. Foot-loose ! Alive
again ! On the road ! See the hoosier
driving his cows home to milking! Hello,
old clod ! N"o more of it for your Uncle
Mid. It's a spin over the ties at night for
me, and green grass under a shady tree
in the daytime. No more vegetating on a
little old farm. I'm going to get a look
at the country again !"
Darkness closed quickly and shut out
all but the twinkling stars and the infre-
quent lights of farm-houses. Middleton
Groves retired to a corner of his "side-
door Pullman," where he huddled with
his chin between his knees, enjoying the
bumping and banging of the box cars
and thrilling with the intermittent music
of the whistle far ahead.
An hour slid by. Then the cars settled
forward on their couplings, the wheels
groaned with the friction of wood on
steel, and the train gradually came to a
stop.
Middleton Groves peeped from his hid-
ing place. A great dark shadow tower-
ing above the locomotive told him that the
steam horse had paused at a water tank to
drink.
"I hope we don't have to wait for an-
other train," he muttered. "I shouldn't
like to be chucked off before we get onto
the main line."
A second glance showed him a lantern
coming his way. Slipping back to his cor-
ner, he flattened himself against the side
wall. Presently a shaft of light shot
through the open doorway. Then the lan-
tern was thrust inside. A man's head fol-
lowed it. But the glance cast about the
car was a careless one, and the tramp in
the near corner was not observed. An in-
stant later both head and lantern were
withdrawn, and the traveler breathed
freely again.
The train moved forward once more,
and soon was bowling along at a merry
clip. Its speed continued to increase, and
Middleton Groves knew that he was upon
the long down-grade which led to the
great valley. He disdained to huddle in
a corner now, but stood in the middle of
the lurching, tossing car, his feet spread
far apart, his chest swelling with an emo-
tion akin to that which swells the breast
of a sea-captain astride the deck of his
vessel in an angry storm.
But when the hills were behind, and
the train rumbled prosaically over the
plain, the adventurer thirsted for rides
more stirring.
"What's a freight, anyhow?" he grum-
bled. "Anybody can ride a freight. It's
passengers or nothing for me hereafter —
and the faster the better."
When he reached the division town, ho
deserted the freight, and joining a half
dozen other tramps, essayed to board the
"blind baggage" of a passenger train as it
started. Two breakmen gave chase with
their lanterns, but Middleton Groves
dodged apart; and, unseen, swung aboard
the smoker, slipped through the door,
dropped into a seat and stretched his body
into a reclining posture, after the manner
of the majority of the occupants. When
the train was well under way, he walked
leisurely to the front platform, clambered
on the hand-brake, caught the edge of the
roof above his head, and in five seconds
(506
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
more was on the "deck."
"Just as I thought," he grinned, his
eye sweeping the tops of the cars front and
back. "Not one of them made her out but '
ms. Guess you haven't forgotten your old
tricks — hey, old chap?" And he slapped
a knee indulgently.
"Pretty chilly up here/' he mused a
moment late. "She's making good time.
Wonder how it would feel to take a chase
over the deck. Got to do it if I want to
get out of the wind. Well, here goes. Ha !
Not a bit shaky. I remember the first
time I ever tried it. I had to drop to my
hands and knees most every step for fear
I'd plunge headlong over the side."
He rose to his feet, and with body bent
low, ran the whale-like back of the car,
jumped to the next one forward, and.
traversing it in the same manner, let him-
self down to the platform between two
baggage coaches.
When the train slowed into the next
station, Middleton Groves climbed back to
the deck and lay on the edge farthest
from the lights and the voices. When it
was again in motion he descended once
more to his sheltered platform. This per-
formance was repeated at every stop. In
time, he was joined by three other knights
of the road, and the four proceeded to-
gether, boon companions, though no two
had met previous to that night.
The casual eye of a baggage man finally
spied them out. and the fellow raised a
hue and cry which dislodged them from
their perch and landed them on the cold
cinders.
"Nothin' doin' any more ter-night,"
grunted one in disgust. "I looks fere a
place to pound me ear."
"Come on," urged Middleton. "Let's
stay with her awhile longer. Let's show
those sleepy shacks we can put it over
'em."
His companion followed him on the run
to the lower end of the yards, where,
crouched behind a pile of ties, they
watched the train start.
There was a glimmer of lanterns on the
"blind," but when the headlight was still
sixty yards away, their custodians
dropped to the ground, caught a platform
farther back, and disappeared inside a
passenger coach.
"I told you so!" cried Middleton. He
sprang boldly into the open, ran a few
strides beside the engine, and caught the
same steps the brakeman had just de-
serted. Two of the others proved as nim-
ble as he. The third missed, tried the next
platform, missed again and was left be-
hind.
The tramps had been observed, and, on
leaving the next station, the brakemen
rode the "blind" still farther out. But,
as they dropped back to the open coaches,
they saw the vagrants emerge from the
shadows ahead and nimbly board a flying
platform. A third time the brakemen
staid with the "blind," this time so far
that the leap to the ground and up again
became a perilous feat. But still the
tramps outdared them. At the next station
the entire train crew was pressed into ser-
vice to head the unticketed passengers
from the baggage platforms. Tramps
and trainmen raced side by side hardly an
arm's length apart, the latter flinging their
lanterns wildly and yelling dire threats,
the former doggedly legging it for the
goal that would insure them a free ride to
another stop.
The wayfarers actually beat the train-
men at their own game for an hour. Then
one crashed into a switch-bar and fell,
temporarily stunned; another, jostled by
a brakeman, went sprawling to the ground
and Middleton Groves alone continued to
defy the enemy.
They combined against him, but he
proved himself more than their match. He
took the most frightful chances. He
brushed them aside when they opposed
him at close range. He flung himself
aboard the train when its speed was ter-
rific. He jeered his pursuers with loud
yells. One of them, infuriated, drew a
revolver, and fired shot after shot in his
direction, but he merely shook his fist,
screamed derision and continued to ride.
They decided that he must be a madman
and looked for him to fall under the
wheels. But his eye proved always certain
and his leap well calculated. When gray
dawn streaked the raven tresses of the
night, Middleton Groves left the train of
his own free will, exhausted and dirty, but
supremely jubilant.
"I'll lay my hat there's not another
hobo in the whole West who could have
turned that trick," he boasted to himself.
THE CALL OF THE WHISTLE.
60?
"Jiminee, I'm hungry!" he said, turn-
ing from the track. "Come to think of it,
I haven't eaten a bite since yesterday
noon."
He put a hand in his pocket, drew it
out again and grinned sheepishly.
"Huh! hadn't thought of that, Not
a sou. Well, I've been there before. Glad
I'm there now. I'll just see how it feels
to batter at a back door again."
Two hours later, his stomach filled with
wholesome food and his face washed clean
with a charitable housewife's kitchen soap,
Middleton Groves lay in a patch of green
under a tree in a pasture, his head pil-
lowed contentedly on his folded coat.
When the sun peeped from the Eastern
horizon on the morning of the following
day, Middleton Groves hopped off a pas-
senger train on the edge of a division
town.
"Three hundred and forty miles in one
night," he calculated, consulting a rail-
road folder. "Whe-ew ! That one night's
ride was worth a dozen years of humdrum
life. No more of the humdrum life for
me. I'll go and go and go. They'll kick
me back and forth from ocean to ocean a
dozen times, but I'll never tie myself down
again. I'll riot do it — that's all.
"Now for a hand-out and a quiet
snooze," he continued. "Heighho! The
plain is full of hoboes — getting up in
every direction, rolling out. of blankets,
crawling out of haystacks and even pick-
ing themselves off the bare ground. Must
be holding a camp-meeting here. I'll cer-
tainly make my bow among 'em when my
naps over."
But into the sleep of Middleton Groves
that morning there drifted visions of the
little alfalfa farm in the hills, the slender,
flaxen-haired wife and a pair of tow-
headed tots, whose features were fashioned
in imitation of his own. He saw himself
with a round-eyed babe on each knee, and
the smiling mother beside them, all listen-
ing with rapt interest as he related a
thrilling tale of his younger, wilder clays.
The picture shifted, and he beheld his
young wife with streaming eyes, the little
ones clinging to her skirts with dirty, tear-
stained faces, the mother calling his name
and the baby lips lisping the words:
"Papa, papa, papa !"
The vision started him from his nap,
and set him dazed and unsteady upon his
feet.
"My God! I had forgotten!" he
breathed thickly, drawing a hand across
his forehead. "I have been drunk — drunk
for two days. Mollie and the kiddies ! I
had forgotten them !"
But in a moment his face set in hard
lines, and he threw himself onto the
ground again.
"What's the use?" he grunted. "I'm
not going back. I'm a hobo. Nobody has
any strings on me any more. I've cut 'em
all. I guess they can get along. The
farm's all paid for."
He rolled over on his back, and for a
long time gazed moodily up into the per-
fect blue of the morning sky.
"No, I haven't cut the strings," he
cried, suddenly, getting hastily to his feet
again. "I can't cut 'em. They're my
kids and my wife and — I'm going back."
He vaulted a rail fence into the county
road and turned toward the town. Two
tramps were coming in his direction, but
he veered quickly away.
"I must hurry. I must let them know
I am safe and coming," he thought, break-
ing into a run. But within a dozen rods
he stopped still in dismay.
"How am I to telegraph when I haven't
a cent. The message wouldn't be deliv-
ered anyhow, for it's ten miles from the
nearest office to the farm. Great God!
They won't know for two whole days.
They will! I'll make it back in twenty-
four hours if I have to fight the railroad
every wheel's revolution of the journey !
With eager step he sought the railroad
track. No train was in sight. Uneasily
he strode back and forth along the edges
of the ties, glancing momentarily along
the shining rails to a point where they
merged in the shimmering distance.
Would a train never come?
He watched the making up of a freight
and thought of boarding it as it pulled
out. But he reflected that it would take
him five days to reach home by such
means, and let it leave without him. When
it was gone, he cursed himself for missing
an opportunity to travel toward his loved
ones, however slowly.
Darkness had fallen when a passenger
train left for the North. As at all divis-
ions, the "shacks" were exceedingly watch-
608
0 V EK LAND MONTHLY.
ful, and Middleton Groves was compelled
to resort to his old trick of taking a seat
in the smoker until the station was well
behind. But when he thought of the
climb before him, his body broke out in a
cold sweat, and his heart thumped a loud
protest against his ribs. Now that he had
exchanged the viewpoint of the tramp for
that of the member of respectable society,
he shrank from beating his way, and
would have given half his farm for a first-
class ticket home.
When his feet were upon the hand-
brake, he tottered .unsteadily, and clutched
at the roof above him with nerveless fin-
gers.
"What's the matter with me?" he
gasped, his fe.ar increasing. "How she
rocks from side to side ! Feels as if she
was going a mile a minute. Wonder if
I'm losing my nerve."
Setting his jaws, he pulled himself
slowly upward, every instant expecting to
hear a gruff voice below or to feel the
grip of an unfriendly hand upon his leg.
His arms spread far apart, Middleton
Groves put his feet against the end of the
smoker and used the resistance to shove
his body farther up the sloping roof of the
car behind him. When his legs were
straight, he reached out a hand to get a
grip of the nearest side edge of the roof,
intending to draw himself up to the level
top. But to his dismay, he found that the
hand fell short. Cautiously, he put his
palms under him in an effort to work him-
self closer, but at the motion, his feet lost
their hold on the smoker. He felt him-
self slipping down, down. He hugged
the sloping roof with hands, arms, body,
even face, kicking his heels frantically. In
a moment his feet found their unsteady
support again, and his fall was stayed.
But his narrow escape had so unnerved
him that he dared not move to right or
left. He gave one sidelong glance at the
darting telegraph poles and the shadowy
landscape racing past. Then, helpless as
a rat in a trap, he put his face to the
blackened sheet iron. He was hanging on
at Devil's Slide, above a yawning cre-
vasse, with nothing to prevent him from
slipping down to whizzing destruction,
save the fact that his body bridged the
chasm.
To Middleton Groves it was hours 'be-
fore his backward flight, between two cars
which never lurched in unison, came to
an end. When the train finally halted,
he did not budge, but remained face down-
ward with toes upon the smoker and with
head and shoulders upon the car behind
it, in plain view.
"Haw ! haw !" cackled a hotel runner,
who caught sight of him before the wheels
ceased turning. "Come here, brakie;
there's a bloke playing circus on yer deck ;
doing the double chair act — head on one,
heels on the other."
"Drop off o' there !" ordered the brake-
man. But the tramp made no response.
A well aimed bit of coal thudded against
his ribs, and for the first time his head
turned slightly.
"Must be froze up there," laughed .the
brakeman, mounting to the platform.
When he stood on the hand-brake an ashen
face blinked down at him.
"For God's sake, help me down," it
said, in a hoarse whisper.
The tramp, his body shaking and his
teeth chattering, was dragged to the
ground and set upon his feet. He stag-
gered away into the darkness, found a
barn loft and spent the remainder of the
night shivering in the hay.
When the morning sun warmed the
earth, Middleton Groves emerged from his
hiding place. Bare-headed — for he had
lost his hat in the wild night ride — he
slunk through an alleyway, sniffing the air
for freshly cooked food.
But when he had "spotted" a "good"
house a feeling of shame overcame him,
and he dared not enter. He traveled on,
resolved to find another that would not
strike such terror to his heart. But time
and time again he placed a hand boldly
upon a gate, opened it, then closed it and
hurried on. Once he stepped inside, tip-
toed to the back door, knocked, but the
sound of his own knock put him in a panic
and he turned and fled from the place pre-
cipitately.
At last he ran upon two other tramps
who were "working" the private houses
for "hand outs." He followed them afar.
He saw them collect a great assortment of
food, wrapped in newspaper packages, and
retire to a vacant lot. He watched and
waited until they had eaten their fill and
gone. Then he crept to the spot and made
THE CALL OF THE WHISTLE.
609
a meal of the scraps they had thrown
away.
An hour later he met the same tramps
near the railroad track, where they were
preparing to board an out-going passenger
train.
"Goin' ter make 'er out?" asked one.
"Yes," he replied quickly. Then he
flushed, dropped his eyes and stammered.
"Don't believe I will. Think I'll wait
for a freight."
The stranger laughed significantly and
turned away. Shame cut him to the heart
again. His fellow craftsmen were discov-
ering that he had lost his nerve.
The middle of the forenoon saw him
ensconsed in a box car, lumbering over the
plain. But he had not ridden many miles
when a pair of boots dangled over the
side roof and a brakeman swung himself
in through the open doorway.
"Got anything on you?" demanded the
intruder.
"Not a cent," quavered the culprit.
"Well, hike off at the next station."
"Say, Mister, I've got to get home.
Can't I-
"No, you can't. You get off at the next
station."
A half hour later Middleton Groves was
counting the ties, his head covered by a
tattered straw hat he had picked from a
village trash dump. That night he fin-
ished his supper from a refuse barrel back
of a restaurant. He had become a "to-
mato can vag." He had reached the low-
est depths of trampdom !
Day after day Middleton Groves strug-
gled doggedly on. Home ! home ! His
mind worked in but one groove — home,
and he cared not how much a vagabond
he became. Now he was stealing a slow
ride on a freight, now walking, now per-
suading a farmer to carry him in his
wagon a few miles along the way. Once
he traveled one hundred miles in a coal
tender, earning his passage by wielding a
shovel for the fireman. Not until the
sixth night, when he was only thirty miles
from home, did he again muster up cour-
age to board the blind baggage of a pas-
sen srer train.
He knew it was the fastest train that
passed over the line that ran through the
hills, and the clanging of the bell sent
an unreasoning thrill of terror through
his body. He wavered a moment, but as
the locomotive puffed forward, he stepped
quickly out to meet it. Ah, the game was
up; a lantern twinkled from the blind.
No, he would try the other side. A lan-
tern was there, too. He started back
again with the engine nearly upon him,
hesitated between the rails, then, as the
pilot was about to strike him down, he
sprang in the air and landed upon it,
clutched at an iron rod and pulled himself
safely under the headlight.
Instantly he repented of his rash act.
But now it was too late. He dared not
jump, for the locomotive had already at-
tained nearly its full speed. Anyhow, he
was off for the remainder of his journey,
for he knew that the next stop of the
night express was beyond the curve near
the little alfalfa ranch in the hills.
He turned in his cramped refuge and
faced the race course. A dash of cold
water struck him in the face.
"Rain !" he gasped. Then through his
dripping eye lashes he saw that a white
wall enveloped him, a wall that receded
as the engine flew forward.
'•'Nothing but fog ! Gee, it must have
got suddenly thicker. I hardly noticed it
before, and now the water is pouring off
my face."
He was swimming in a cloud. The rails
flashed through the mist like two silver
threads, but despite the powerful head-
light, they were not visible more than a
half dozen rods ahead.
Awful fears tortured him. Suppose a
wheel should slip the rail as they careened
upon this curve. Suppose the ballasting
should give way there and send the loco-
motive crashing over that one hundred
foot precipice ! He would be the first to
be mangled by smashing steel or scalded
by unfettered steam.
"Woof!" sounded an animal voice out
of the mist. A dark form loomed sudden
and big before him, and a cow-bell jangled
violently into his very ear as the thing
scampered from the track.
The tramp's hair stood on end.
"A close call," he whispered weakly. "A
second more and it would have shivered
my bones against the boiler head."
After that the two vanishing threads
held his eyes fascinated, strained to the
point of dilation in an effort to penetrate
610
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
a few feet deeper into the cloud. Every
moment he imagined a dark object ahead
and felt himself about to be crushed by
the body of a stray cow tossed by the pilot.
His terror doubled with every mile un-
til he felt he could bear the burden no
longer. Death, swift and certain, was bet-
ter than this awful nightmare, and he
thought of throwing himself in front of
the wheels that bore him on?
Suddenly he was toppled forward by the
abrupt slackening of the locomotive. In-
stinctively he threw out his arms and
barely saved himself from tumbling head-
long onto the rails. When he recovered
his equilibrium, familiar landmarks
shaped themselves in the mist.
"The curve ! The curve !" he cried.
Struggling to his feet on the precarious
head of the pilot, he balanced himself,
jumped, landed right side up, scrambled
up the bank, and without a glance over
his shoulder, struck out for home.
Were they still alive? Had anything
happened to them? A hundred gloomy
forebodings assailed him as he dodged
stump and thicket. Hardship and priva-
tion had shortened his breath, but it did
not stop him. Now he was over his own
fence. Yes, the shocks of hay were just
as he had left them. And some of it lay
strewn upon the ground, exactly as it had
fallen from the knife — years and years
before. Was that a light in the window?
They were alive.
As he staggered onto the little porch the
door Hew open.
"Middleton !" cried a familiar voice,
and he fell through the door into the arms
of his wife.
''Kids all right, Molly?" he sobbed,
clinging to her knees as a child would do,
as she showered kisses upon his grimy face
and unkempt hair. "I went — Molly —
back to the road. The whistle called me —
but it's different — from what it used to be
—I've got you and the kids now — and
home — and I hate it — I hate the road.
The call of the whistle — will never mean
anything to me — again."
THE CHRISTENING
(At the Kuined Font of Grace Church.)
BY FLORENCE RICHMOND
How earnest thou, sweet bird, to hear
Her whispered name- at ruined Font ?
Dost nest beneath the sombres — drear
Of tott'ring walls, so gray, so gaunt?
Or didst thou cross the wind-tossed sea,
On tireless wings of swiftest flight,
To mark the hour of ecstasy
Unfold love's bloom of stainless white?
And when the mellow sunlight threw
A golden mist to veil the scars,
Did'st note the glitter of the blue,
'Tween heaven and earth, entranced with stars?
0 babe so fair ! 0 Font of gold !
Sweet blendings of Christ's love-lit way!
0 bird of song, thy music told
Bright omens for a fairer day.
WITH OVERLAND'S POETS
THE MUEZZIN.
Far purple hills and cloudless skies,
And waring, slender palms that rise
In feathery masses toward the sun,
While narrow streamlets curve and run,
As blue as Leda's lovely eyes.
Along the lofty parapet
A tall muezzin paces yet,
Although the morning call to prayer
Long since was sounded on the air,
And hours must pass ere day will set.
He leans and looks and listens; far
Below him, like a fallen star,
A gilded sandal lies, unbound
From some swift foot that spurned the ground
Where the great mosque's long shadows are.
He holds his robe across his face,
And creeping on from space to space,
From stair to stair in columned line,
He passes from the prophet's shrine,
And lifts the sandal from its place.
What dark muezzin ever knew
Such eyes — like iris moist with dew?
What drunken bee e'er took his sips
From roses sweet as Leda's lips?
Those lips that trembled as she flew.
First woman in the minaret,
She came for love of Ashtoblet,
And dropped her sandal when she fled,
While slept the city as the dead,
Who nor remember nor forget.
And once again the sunset's glare,
And once again the call to prayer,
And once again night throws her veil
About the lives that faint and fail,
And Ashtoblet upon the stair.
No call is sounded from his post
When pallid morning like a ghost
Comes stealing through the city's gate,
And for a while the people wait
About the mosque, a silent host.
Then one with finger at his lip,
And heavy feet that pause and trip,
And eyes that scarcely see for fright,
Comes stumbling on in woful plight,
And guides to where the fountains drip.
There the muezzin Ashtoblet,
Lies dead on banks of violet,
One red line on his dusky throat;
And to his heart, where all may note,
He holds a gilded sandal yet.
JAMES BERRY BENSEL.
OUR TEDDY.
Teddy had a little gun.
He loaded it one day;
And then he shot a Teddy-Bear
To while the time away.
TO A PIONEER.
Lay him to rest in the valley he loved,
With its rampart of snow-crowned hills;
Chant softly, ye winds, his runeral dirge,
And weep low, ye mountain rills;
For as free as the mountain air was he
Arid as pure as the virgin spring
That wells from the rock, in the lofty peaks,
Where the new-forged thunders ring.
No weakling rose plant on his grave,
Nor a creeping vine sprout there,
But over the head of our stalwart dead
Shall the native pine grow fair.
He blazed the trail and he shaped the State,
He led and we follow his way;
He fought the fight for love of the right
And not for the hypocrite's pay.
As bitter and strong as the North-Wind's blast
His voice, in censure, rung,
And never a traitor betrayed his trust
But quailed 'neath the lash of his tongue.
No shaft of stone need tell his praise
Nor poet sing of his fame,
For in every breast in the whole wide West
Shall live his honored name.
Lay him to rest in the valley he loved,
With its rampart of snow-crowned hills,
Chant softly, ye winds, his funeral dirge,
And weep low, ye mountain rills.
Pillow his head on a lap of cool earth
Where but yesterday he trod,
And there on his couch beneath the blue sky,
We'll leave him alone with his God.
HELEN FITZGERALD SANDERS.
HOW VAIN IS LIFE!
La vie est vaine: How vain is life!
Un peu d'amour. Love's little spell,
Un peu de haine. Hate's little strife,
Et puis — bon jour. And then — farewell.
La vie est breve:
Un peu d'espoir,'
Un peu de reve,
Et puis — bon soir.
How brief is life!
Hope's lessening light
With dreams is rife,
And then — good-night.
— Translation by Blanche M. Burbank.
THIS IS WISDOM.
Weary heart still loves the mountain;
Through the lone and heavy mist,
Saddest thoughts like lips uplift them,
Mute, to heaven, to be kissed.
Yet 'tis sweeter in the valley,
Leaving all this cark and doubt,
To do thy hand-work, serve thy true-love,
Keep thy heart bright side without.
"Live thy life well," hear it whisper;
"Do the good that thou can'st do.
If no heaven, thou hast had thine;
If there be, thou shalt have two."
JOHN THORPE.
. OVEBLAND MONTHLY.
ST. CHRISTOPHER.
Ah, fitfully the winter moon shone through
Dull banks of glowering clouds the heavens among,
Increasing chill the north wind as it blew
Over the flaw-blown postern's iron tongue;
Already had the muffled church bell rung
Calling the village folk to vesper prayers
Through highways dumb with snow, and overhung
With sobbing hemlocks taken unawares
And laden with a host of icy maiJ.ed cares.
Bleak raved the haggard blast a-down the grange
Storming with hollow breath the fissured towers,
Where hung the lofty turrets wrapt in strange,
Fantastic wreaths of withered leaves and flowers;
Then freezing either side the sculptured bowers
Of crouching dragons ready in their flight
To some far sunken faery land where cowers
Under his woof of black the sullen night
With all his eben shades, and dusky pyres of light.
Scarce had the stifled curfew numb with cold
Drowsed into icy stillness, patient feet
Came shuffling up the chapel aisle below
Where played the deep-mouthed organ loud and sweet;
Yet on the stained windows tapped the blast,
Howling with fearful seeming at the feet
Of thorn -crowned martyrs, holy eyes aghast
Or sweet Saint Eulalie, with hands together claspt.
Robed in the chilly splendor of the moon',
The massy castle donjon flecked and marred
Prom many a wild foray, gleamed white and soon
Its high-flung battlements no longer scarred
Seemed frozen into marble silver barred;
Three sleepy warders every pacing slow
The Eastern buttress lone and evil starred,
Cursed at the orbed moon as to and fro
She cast a pallid glance upon the moors below.
It chanced upon the middle of the night,
E'er yawning casements fronting bleak and drear,
Gave up their meaning shadows of afright
With goblSn, witch, and many a dark compeer;
The trembling warders sore beset with fear
Roused up, for in the postern's hollow gloom
The waiting slug horn's brazen chanticleer
Reverberated in the latticed room
Like muttered watches through a friar's silent tomb.
"Who sounds at this ill chosen hour when men
Awake to horrid visions, and the dead
Keep fearful revelry upon the fen
All heaven's starlit canopy o'erspread
With black stoled draperies and comets dread?"
So spake the foeman warder, his harsh word
Awaked the feathered owlet in its bed;
"I crave an- alms, sir knight, replace thy sword,
I ask of thee a boon in Jesus Christ, our Lord."
"Out on tiiee, craven palmer, by this soul
There shall be nought but curses here for thee,
Replace the slug horn, lest the midnight toll,
Ring out a death note in eternity."
"I give thee suppliance for thy enmity,"
Returned the palmer, "but this frosty night
Hath wrought upon my frame so wearily,
That I may perish e'er the morning bright
Walks over the pale moors, with the Christ-given light.
WITH OVERLAXD'S POETS. 613
"Go hence, foul knave, out on thee, to the storm!
Thy riband wit provoketh me to laugh."
Snarled back the warder, and the meagre form
Shuffled along upon his oaken staff.
Against his hooded mantle, blown like chaff,
The whirling flakes made havoc, while -the wind
Wailing in fury at its cenotaph,
Borne fearfully apart, and lurching blind,.
Rode darkly o'er the moor with spectral trees behind.
The chapel walls were shrouded, and the bell
Dreamed of a balmier summer; in its nest
The frozen sparrow whistled through a dell
Low lying in the rosy-tinted West;
The village fires were smothered, all to rest,
Youths, maideris, wrapt in viol-breathing sleep;
The wind's alarum on the gables pressed
Close to the low, thatched windows serve to keep
Morphean watches o'er the slumberings low and deep.
One, two; the cock crows in the glad Yule-tide,
From his low perch among hay littered stalls;
'Tis dark! The moon hath set; pale shadows hide
Both shrouded belfry and the chapel walls;
Hark! 'Tis an evil portent, from the halls
A noise of muttered vigils: still as death
The slabbed cloisters answer to strange calls
As though a beadsman fifty aves saith
To save a cursed soul from God's avenging death.
Just where the archives' massy shadow fell,
On good St. Christopher, a little wreath
Of ruby-lustered crystal seemed to tell
Immortal radiance, and heaven's breath
Sweeps over as his oratries he saith;
A miracle, the ancient belfry spoke,
Pale cherubim aroused from sculptured death
Proclaim Christ's blessing, al! the charm is broke,
And joyful orisons arouse the village folk.
Lo! through the minster gate a trembling throng
Of holy angels, wings together pressed,
Hail with ari over-flowing burst of song
Their aged palmer in rude vestures dressed;
Strange gargoyled eaves a burning love expressed,
And all the high arched windows crimson blaze,
Where snow-white virgins in eternal r.est
Keep their sweet vows and exaltations raise
To glorify the Christ with an immortal praise.
So crowds in wonder to the chapel went,
And many an aged beldame called around.
Telling of awful woes from heaven sent,
Till every maiden in her psalter found
Strange phantasies of ill-beseeming sound;
Thrice holy was the church bell Christmas eve,
While burthened sinners crossed and duly bound,
Repeat the chaunts between with pious heave.
Then fifty 'nosters say for their lost soul's reprieve.
Ten days through Michaelmas a stern foray
Wasted the lofty castle, its high towers
Were crumbled into leprous decay;
Above its ruined heap. of shivered bowers
The roaming night wind stole 'with sullen showeis;
The craven warder shield and helmet riven
Was captive taken, and the foeman's power
Kept him in yoke with lowly villains driven,
Head bended low, his heart to rankling sorrows given.
614
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
Upon the snow, a crooked staff was found
All graven in with shapes of strange device,
On further search bene'ath, the frozen ground
Was strewn with warmed gems, strange broideries
With chilly, emeralds of faintest dyes;
Then it was whispered 'round on every hearth,
And it was muttered in their litanies:
"Messiah Lord, forgive our little worth,
The good St. Christopher has visited the earth."
Now every Michaelmas the aged sires
Thrice blessed to have lived in such a time,
Tell how with lilied harps, and golden lyres,
An angel host with heraldings sublime,
Chaunted to the refrain of heavenly choirs;
And in the hollow of the frosty night
When shines the orbed moon on gabled spires,
To heaven a thousand aves take their flight
With silver censer's flame, and incensed taper's light.
RAYMOND SUMNBR BARTLBTT.
Palo Alto, November 1, 1907.
I HAD A DREAM OF MARY.
I had a dream of Mary, with her Babe upon her breast,
I saw the inn at Bethlehem, and feit her need of rest;
I saw the patient cattle, and smelt the fragrant hay,
And heard at last the Infant's cry, and knew had dawned the day.
I had a dream of Mary, with her Babe upon her breast,
I thought she brought me comfort for my own wee empty nest;
She seerr.ed to oring within her arms my own lost little child
And laid him on my heart again, and as she gave him, smiled.
I had a diean: of Mary, her arms were empty quite,
She led my feet to Calvary, and through the quiet night
Her mother heart spoke love to mine — she, too, could understand,
When one's own son has gone away, how desola.te the land.
I had a dream of Mary, the stone was rolled away,
And far and near, o'er sapphire hills there broke the coming day;
To my heart she whispered, through the dawning sweet and dim,
"He will not come to you again, but you shall go to him."
I had a dream of Mary, with the Babe upon her breast,
And when I woke at morning my aching heart was blest,
With this great truth she taught me — the joy the words outran,
That every mother's heart shall clasp her own lost child again.
RUTH STERRY.
A MELODY.
Out in the silent night, under the stars,
Far from the troubled day with its distresses,
Nature, her tender heart, fondly expresses,
Sweetly, her love for peace, all Earth confesses,
Out in the silent night, under the stars.
Out in the silent night, under the stars,
There may the soul of man taste Heaven's
sweetness,
Thrilling him, stilling him with its completeness,
Nature's forecast of God's own repleteness,
Out in the silent night, under the stars.
BY MYRTLE CONGER.
'I HAD A DREAM OF MARY, WITH Hf}R BABE UPON HER BREAST.'
SNAP SHOTS IN JAPAN — Reading from left to right, top row. 1. School girls. 2. watch-
ing mortar captured from the Russians. 3. A well-paved street in Yokohama. Second row
— 1. A Japanese bill board of Napoleon. 2.B111 board advertising cosmetics. 3. Steel frame
building in Tokyo. Third row — 1. A temple. 2. Sports of war. 3. A European hotel. Bottom
row — 1. Billboard of Fujiyama. 2. Women coaling ship. 3. A quiet street in Tokyo.
'THIS is the genuine 'PEARS' as sold for more than 100 years past ! '
have sold it all my life, and know how good it is. It is entirely pure and there is
no water mixed with it, it is ALL SOAP and lasts longer than any other ; it is
the CHEAPEST as well as the BEST.
" 1 could sell you an imitation at half the money and maKe more profit on it
too, but I should be only swindling you if 1 did."
kll Rights Secured.
Pears' Annual for 1907 with 22 illustrations and four large Presentation Plates'. The best
Annual published — without any doubt. However, judge for yourself.
Agents: The International News Company.
xxii
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
THE BEAUTY of WOOLENS
and Flannels lies in their Soft-
ness and Fluffiness, and noth-
ing Washable demands such
Careful handling in the Wash.
Avoid the Rubbing of Soap
and Washboard that Mats
the Fibres and makes them
Hard and Shrunken before
their time. Those who care
most for Clean — Soft —
Unshrunken Woolens and
Flannels are Particular to Use
PEARLINE according to
directions.
I * Wash Woolens and Flannels by Hand in lukewarm
C 3. If 1 1 II C PEARLINE suds, Rinse thoroughly m Warm Water,
Directions for Washing Wrin8 Dry, Pull and Shake well, Dry in warm tem-
Woolens and Flannels, perature, and they will Keep Soft Without Shrinking. "
GOODFORM EQUIPMENTS
«-.£ TROUSERS CHANGER «r
•) RAIL NO. 27-25C. COATjHANGER
^TROUSERS )J>HANGER ^
NO. 21-35C.
NO. 2O-15C.
NO. 32-25C. NO- 41-35C.
'""PHERE S twice the capacity for clothes in the
closets equipped with "Goodform" Sets; and
100 times the convenience, system and order.
Neither time nor temper lost; no rummaging —
put your hand instantly on the garment you are
looking for. Coats, trousers, jackets, skirts look
better, wear better, are better when /^-formed
every time hung up.
Goodform Set for Men Goodform Set for Women
$4.50 Delivered. $3.00 Delivered.
6 Coat Hgrs.. No. 21. adjustable 6 Coat Hsrs., No. 21, adjustable
6 Trs. HKTS., No. 41 cloth lined 6 Skirt Hangers, adjustable
1 each Shelf Bar and Door Loop 1 each Shelf Bar and Door Loop
1 Shoe Rail, No. 27 1 Shoe Rail. No. 27
Each set delivered in Separate Box, Safely Packed.
Note above illustration and price of samples by mail. Loop
or Bar sample 15c each, prepaid. Sold by merchants
everywhere or delivered for the price. Booklet FREE.
CHICAGO FORM COMPANY
Sec. 28 -115 Franklin Street - Chicago, Illinois
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
xxiil
Soups
Stews and
Hashes
See that Lea C& Perrins' sig-
nature is on wrapper and label.
are given just
that "finish-
ing touch"
which makes
a dish perfect, by using
Lea & Perrins' Sauce
THE ORIGINAL. WORCESTERSHIRE
It is a perfect seasoning for all kinds of Fish, Meats, Game, Salads,
Cheese, and Chafing-Dish Cooking. It gives appetiz-
ing relish to an otherwise insipid dish.
John Duncan's Sons, Agents, New York.
BEWARE OF IMITATIONS
The HIBERN1A SAVINGS
and LOAN SOCIETY
INCORPORATED 1864
COR. MARKET, McALLISTER AND JONES STREETS, SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.
The objects for which this association are formed are, that by its operations, the depositor
thereof may be able to find a
SECURE AND PROFITABLE
INVESTMENT FOR SMALL SAVINGS
And borrowers may have an opportunity of obtaining from it the use of moderate capital, on
giving good and sufficient security for the use of the same.
President
OFFICERS
..JAMES R. KELLY Secretary and Treasurer
Attorneys TOBIN & TOBIN
.R. M. TOBIN
Any person can become a depositor of this society on subscribing to the by-laws.
Deposits can be made from $1 up to $3,000.
Loans made on security of real estate within the city and county.
Bank open daily from 10 a. m. to 3 p. m. Sundays and holidays excepted. Saturdays from
10 a. m. to 12 m.
xxiv
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
THE GERMAN SAYINGS
AND LOAN SOCIETY
526 CALIFORNIA STREET.
San Francisco, Cal.
Guaranteed Capital $1,200,000.00
Capital actually paid up in cash 1,000,000.00
Reserve and Contingent Funds 1,403,755.68
Deposits/ June 29, 1907 38,156,931.28
Total Assets .: 40,679,204.63
Remittances may be made by Draft, Post
Office or -Wells, Fargo & Co.'s Money Orders, or
coin by express.
Office hours: 10 o'clock a. m. to 3 o'clock p. m.
except Saturdays to 12 o'clock M. and Saturday
evenings from 7 o'clock p. m. to 8 o'clock p. m.
for receipt of deposits only.
OFFICERS— President, N. Ohlandt; First
Vice-President, Daniel Meyer; Second Vice-
President, Emil Rohte; Cashier, A. H. R.
Schmidt; Assistant Cashier, William Herrmann;
Secretary, George Tourny; Assistant Secretary,
A. H. Muller; Goodfellow. & ^Eells, General At-
torneys.
BOARD OF DIRECTORS— N. Ohlandt, Daniel
Meyer, Emil Rohte, Ign. Steinhart, I. N. Walter,
J. W. Van Bergen, F. Tillman, Jr., E. T. Kruse
and W. S. Goodfellow.
ISAIAS W. HELLMAN,' President.
I. W. HELLMAN, JR., Vice-President; F. L.
LIPMAN, Vice-President; Frank B. King, Cash-
ier; GEORGE GRANT, Asst. Cashier; W. Mc-
GAVIN, Asst. Cashier; E. L. JACOBS, Asst.
Cashier.
Wells Fargo Nevada
National Bank
OF SAN FRANCISCO.
Union Trust Building, No. 4 Montgomery St.
Capital Paid Up ...„.."..•.....,,,.. $6,000,000.00
Surplus and Undivided Profits 4,529,708.01
Total $10,529,708.01
DIRECTORS.
Isaias W. Hellman, Robert Watt, Leon Sloss,
C. DeGuigne, Dudley Evans, E. H. Harriman,
A.!> Haas, I. W. Hellman, Jr., Wm. F. Herrin,
Herbert E. Law, James L. Flood, F. W. Van
Sicklen, Percy T. Morgan, J. Henry Meyer, F.
L. Lipman.
I
UlillllllJl
Growth
of Deposits £
i * i
$ 19,256.08 |
in
, 117.216.58 »"
itt
421,815.96 |
i •< *>
966,989.74 |
140
1,757,863.03 jj
i 1C
2,621,235.82 .
i tg
5,487,968.90 |
I > 0
9.468,822.40 •
ri'ii
11,421,498.35 .
"A Bank that enjoys the confidence of
its own home folks to such an extent*
as to make THESE FIGURES possible
has clearly demonstrated its right* to
the confidence of the public through-
out* both state and nation."
In all American and European financial centers,
the Scandinavian American Bank of Seattle is
recognized not only as a Safe Bank, but as one of
the strongest banks in the Northwest, one of the
most conservative in America. With Resources exceeding $12,-
000,000.00 and a Reserve approximating $4,000,000.00, this bank
affords to its depositors the fullest measure of security; and the
most liberal terms that are possible, consistent with that
security.
Banking
By Mail
Compound
Interest*
:& Buildinr, Seattle
rulinavinn American
No matter where you live you may Send your Deposit by Mail, and you
will receive by return mail our bank pass book with the amount credited
therein. Savings accounts opened from $1.00 up. Interest at 4 per cent
begins first of each month. Booklet mailed if desired.
Scandinavian American Bank
'Alaska Building, Seattle, Washington!
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
. THESE LOW RATES
Backed by the Strength of
The Prudential
Have Made the New Low Cost Policy
the Greatest Success in Life Insurance.
Public Pleased — Agents Enthusiastic.
The Prudential Rates
Are Lowest
Consistent with Liberality
and Safety, Offered by Any
Company of Corresponding
Size, Importance and Re=
sponsibility Throughout
the World.
Send us YOUR age, nearest birthday, for further
particulars. Address Dept. 21.
Read
this
Table
Comparison of Rates on the New Policy
with Average Premium Rates of 102
Other Life Insurance Companies.
WHOLE LIFE PLAN — $1,000
Prudential
49
36
*1 7
Company
Companies
Companies
Companie.
21
?'5 29
$1569
$16 48
22
1563
16 04
1682
23
1599
16 41
17 18
24
1637
1680
1756
25
I677
17 19
1797
26
I7l8
17 62
1841
27
1762
1807
1887
28
1808
1853
1935
29
30
1857
1908
1904
1957
1985
2038
$2197
31
19 62
20 14
2095
2259
3*
20 19
2O 70
2153
23 26
33
2079
21 33
22 15
2394
34
21 43
21 96
22 80
2465
35
36
22 10
22 8l
2265
2337
2347
24 22
2541
26 23
37.
2356
24 13
2499
27 06
38
2435
2495
2580
2798
39
25 '9
2581
2665
2891
40
26 09
2673
2756
2990
41
2704
2765
2850
3°95
42
28 04
28 72
2948
32 10
43
29 II
2983
3°53
3332
44
3025
3099
31 63
45
3M7
32 24
3280
3599
46
3276
3356
3402
47
3413
3496
3534
48
3560
3646
36/3
49
37 '7
3806
3821
50
3883
3979
3979
51
40 61
4157
4147
5*
4251
4336
4327
S3
4453
4557
45 *8
54
4668
4776
4721
55
4898
50 10
4938
56
5144
5264
5168
57
S4 06
5533
54 13
58
5687
58 18
5675
59
60
5987
6308
6l 22
6443
595°
6237
^wn*..
$3074
$3148
l3i 77
• European rates available only for aires 30-45.
The Prudential Insurance Co. of America
Incorporated as a Stock Company by the State of New Jersey.
JOHN F. DRYDEN, President. Home Office: NEWARK, N. J.
DO YOU WANT TO MAKE MONEY?
Splendid Opportunities in Selling this Popular New Ordinary
Policy. Write Direct to Us To-day. Address Dept.
xxvi
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
What Ten Dollars Will Do
You can buy twenty snares of stock in the California Ostrich Ranch by paying
only ten dollars down and ten dollars per month for nine months.
This small investrrent now will grow year by
year and earn money for you and" your children
and your children's children.
Each pair of ostriches produces approximately
36 eggs per year. About nine eggs out of 36
hatch. Figure for yourself how many ostriches
we should have in five years. Each ostrich pro-
duces thousands of dollars worth of feathers
during a normal life- time.
You will then own a $100.00 interest in the
original California Ostrich Ranch, which is now
earning money for its stockholders, and will
soon be paying enormous dividends.
The profit in Ostrich Raising is enormous.
Every full-grown ostrich is worth from $500.00
to $5,000.00. We now have 124 ostriches at our
S'an Diego ranch.
The California Ostrich Ranch wants to estab-
lish another farm near Oakland, and a sales-
room in San Francisco. More money is needed,
and you can become a part owner by acting
now. There is only, a small block of stock for
sale, and you can. invest from $5.00 to $2,500.00
cash on easy monthly payments.
The sale of ostrich plumes is a profitable in-
dustry in itself, and orders are received from all
over the United States. The profits are golden
and positively certain.
Fill out the coupon and mail to us to-day.
You assume no obligation whatever, and you
may make a lot of money. Fill out, tear off, and
mail this coupon to-day.
Industrial Investment Go.
Financial Agents.
943 Van Ness Ave. San Francisco, Cal.
We want to send you complete information
about this unique and profitable industry. Our
complete literature pictures and souvenir postal
card will be mailed free.
INDUSTRIAL INVESTMENT CO.,
943 Van Ness Ave., San Francisco.
Please send me free full information pictures
and souvenir postal card of the California Os-
trich Ranch.
Name
Street
City
State
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
xxvii
Continental Building and Loan
Association
of California
'ESTABLISHED 1889
Subscribed Capital . . . $15,OOO,OOO
Paid-in Capitol 3,OOO,OOO
Profit and Reserve Fund . . . 45O.OOO
Monthly Income, over . . . 20O.OOO
ITS PURPOSE IS
To help its members to build homes, also to
make loans on improved property, the mem-
bers giving first liens on real estate as
security. To help its stock holders to earn
from 8 to 12 per cent per annum on their
stock, and to allow them to open deposit
accounts bearing interest at the rate of
5 per cent per annum.
Church near Market Street,
San Francisco.
A Skin of Beauty is a Joy Forever.
DR. T. FELIX GOURAUD'S
ORIENTAL CREAM, or Magical Beautifier
Removes Tan, Pimples.
Freckles, Moth Patches.
Rash, and Skin Dis-
eases and ever>
blemish on
beauty, and de-
fies detection. It
has stood the
test of 58 years,
and is so harm-
less we taste it
to be sure it Is
properly made.
Accept no coun-
terfeit of similar
name. Dr. L. A.
Sayre said to a
lady of the haut-
ton (a patient) :
"As you ladies will use them, I recommend
Gouraud's Cream ' as the least harmful of all
the skin preparations."
For sale by all Druggists and Fancy Goods
Dealers in the United States, Canada and Eu-
rope.
Gouraud's Oriental Toilet Powder
An ideal antiseptic toilet powder for infanta
and adults. Exquisitely perfumed. Relieve*
skin irritation, cures sunburn and renders an
excellent complexion.
Price, 26 cents per box by mail.
GOURAUD'S POUDRE SUBTILE removet
superfluous hair without injury to the skin.
Price, Jl.OO per bottle by mail.
FERD T. HOPKINS, Prop'r, 37 Great Jones 8t
New York.
CAPITAL, $1,500,000
SURPLUS, $1.250,000
The
Anglo-Calif ornian Bank,
Limited
(ESTABLISHED 1873)
HEAD OFFICE: 18 Austin Friars, London, Eng,
SAN FRANCISCO OFFICE:
N. E. corner Pine and Sansome Sts.
VAN NESS AVENUE BRANCH:
No. 1020 Van Ness Avenue.
MISSION BRANCH:
No. 204^-51 Mission St., near 16th.
GENERAL BANKING BUSINESS TRANSACTED
MANAGERS
Ign. Steinnart P. N. Lilienthal
Your Chance to Make
Big Profits
Here's your chance to make big
mone}-, Reader.
Just think how much Sewer-pipe
is needed on your city streets and
township and country roads —
How much tile is needed for
irrigation on the fruit farms and
ranches right around you?
And that's your opportunity.
For with a Miracle Sewer-pipe
and Tile Outfit you can make a
cement tile that's immensely better
than any clay tile-
Yet you can sell your cement
tile and sewer-pipe way under the
prices of the clay. And still make
nearly 200% profit.
Just a small investment equips
you complete with all the ma-
chinery you need. And we'll send
you the whole Miracle Outfit on
90 Days' FREE Test and Guarantee
We protect you at every point.
Now, if you want to know all about this big busi-
ness opportunity — How others are making im-
mense money at it- Just write for our little book
about Miracle tile and its manufacture— It's FREE.
MIRACLE PRESSED STONE CO.
71 Wilder St.. Minneapolis. U. S. A.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
Every One has 88 Fingers
and none other in the
world can equal it
The Melville Clark
Apollo Player Piano
Apollo player piano, Style K A masterpiece of mechanical skill
Each of the 88 pneumatic fingers strikes a piano key
with a human stroke, playing the composition as it
was originally written, and is played by the great
pianists, and imparting an orchestral tone color to the
score. No transposing or rearranging of the music.
All other players have only 65 notes or five octaves
consequently the larger musical compositions must be
rewritten or transposed to suit this five octave scale.
YOU WOULD NOT BUY A 65 NOTE PIANO:
WHY WOULD YOU BUY A 65 NOTE PLAYER?
The Apollo player piano has also the
Effective Transposing Mouthpiece
which represents 95 per cent, of player value. By its
use the music can be transposed to any key to suit
the voice or accompanying instrument, and it also
effectually obviates the endless trouble caused by the
shrinking and swelling of the music roll.
The Apollo player plays 58, 65 and 88 note music
Send for complete illustrated
catalogue to the manufacturers
Melville Clark Piano Co.
Steinway Hall, Chicago
BENJ. CURTAZ & SONS, Agents, 1615 Van Ness avenue, San Francteco, Cal.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
The Smallest Watch
Made in America
Accurate
As It
s
Big
er
Broth
An ideal gift is the Lady Elgin
-in every respect a standard
Elgin — made as small as possi-
ble without sacrificing Elgin
accuracy, durability and perfect
adjustment. The
LADY ELGIN
is sure to please and give lasting
and reliable service. Valuable
as a jewelry piece — invaluable
as a time piece.
Illustration actual size of watch.
Every Elgin Watch is fully
guaranteed — all jewelers have
them. Send for "The Watch,"
a story of the time of day.
ELGIN NATIONAL WATCH COMPANY, Elgin, 111.
YOUR
WINTER TRIP
made comfortable
by the
SUNSET ROUTE
Traverses the sunny south between San Francisco and
New Orleans.
V
Vestibuled Drawing Room sleeping cars. Dining service
the best. Parlor observation car. Library. Cafe. La-
dies' lounging room.
Personally conducted family excursion parties between
California and New Orleans, Kansas City, St. Louis,
Cincinnati, Chicago and Washington every week.
V '.
Connections made at New Orleans with New Orleans-
New York Steamship Co.'s steamers for New York.
Your choice of an all rail or sea voyage
Southern Pacific
TICKET OFFICE
884 Market Street 14th and Franklin Sts.
San Francisco, Cal. Oakland, Cal.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
9
SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES
xxxi
Irving Institute and California Conservatory of Music
2126-2128 California Street, San Francisco
Boarding and Day School for Girls
Music, Languages, Art, and Elocution. Accredited by Univer-
sities. Pupils admitted at any time.
MISS ELLA M. PINKHAM. Principal.
California Conservatory of Music. Send for
Catalogue.
HERMANN GENSS. Director.
THE HAMLIN SCHOOL AND VAN NESS SEMINARY
2230 Pacific Ave.
For particulars address
cTVlISS SARAH D. HAMLIN
2230 Pacific ^Avenue,
San Francisco Telephone West 546
The Fall term will open August 12. 1907.
What, School?
WE CAN HELP YOU DECIDE
Catalogues and reliable information concerning all
schools and colleges furnished without charge. State
kind of school, address:
American School and College Agency
384,41 Park Row, New York, or 384, 3I5 Dearborn St., Chicago
SEALOCOMOTim
EARN $100 TO
$iss A MONTH
Soon you will be an enirineer and earn
more. We teach you by mail. Only rail-
•vay school in existence conducted by ac-
tual railway officials. Our students me^
good. Best roads represented. Positio:
guaranteed to those mentally and phys-
ically competent. Hundreds needed
now. Write today for catalog, etc.
The Wenthe Ry. Corres. School,
«. Box 762, Freeport, 111.
Are you going to St. Louis?
The HOTEL HAMILTON is a delightful place in the Best Resi-
dent Section and away from the noise and smoke; yet within easy
access Transient Kate: $1 to $3 per day. European Plan. »Pea»l
Rate, by the week Write fer Booklet. Address: W. F. WILLIAM-
SON, Manaaer.
ENAMEL
Oak, Cherry, Mahogany, Walnut,
Rosewood or Transparent
FOR OLD OR NEW FLOORS, FURNITURE AND WOODWORK
Wears like cement — Dries over night with Bril-
liant Gloss. Contains no Japan or Shellac. Write
at once for Free Booklet, Color Card and List of
Dealers. TRIAL CAN FREE (send lOc. to pay
postage). Enough for a Chair, Table or Kitchen
Cabinet. Address: "FLOOR-SHINE" CO.,
ST. LOUIS, MO.
Sold by Hale Bros., Agents, San Francisco,
and A. Hamburger Sons, Los Angeles.
If you are a dealer write for the Agency.
3.000V10.000
A YEAR. IN THE
REAL ESTATE
BUSINESS.
We will teach you by mall the Real Estate,
General Brokerage and Insurance Business, and
appoint you
SPECIAL REPRESENTATIVE
of the oldest and largest co-operative real es-
tate and brokerage company In America. Rep-
resentatives are making $3,000 to $10,000 a year
without any investment of capital. Excellent
opportunities open to YOU. By our system you
can make money in a few weeks without inter-
fering with your present occupation. Our co-op-
erative department will give you more choice sal-
able property to handle than any other institu-
tion in the world. A THOROUGH COMMER-
CIAL LAW COURSE FREE TO EACH REP-
RESENTATIVE.. Write for 62-page book free.
THE CROSS COMPANY, 1037 REAPER BLOCK
CHICAGO.
Eyesight Restored
Eyeglasses May be Abandoned
A Wonderful Discovery That* Corrects
Afflictions of t»he Eye Without,
Cutting or Drugging.
There is no need of cutting, drugging or prob-
ing the eye for the relief of most forms of
disease, as a new method — the Actina treatment
—has been discovered which eliminates the ne-
cessity of former tortuous methods. There is
no risk or necessity of ex-
periment as many people
report having beem cured of
failing eyesight, cataracts,
granulated lids and other
afflictions of the eye after
being pronounced incur-
able, through this grand
discovery.
Rev. C. Brunner, pastor
of the Reformed Church, Bridgeport, Conn.,
writes: "So far your Actina has done me good,
and my eyesight is greatly improved, and I have
good hope that, by continuing, my eyesight will
be restored."
Rev. W. C. Goodwin, Moline, Kas., writes:
"My honest opinion of Actina is that it is one
of .the most marvelous discoveries of the age.
It cured my eyes and cured my wife of asthma."
Mrs. A. L. Howe, Tully, N. Y., writes: " 'Ac-
tina' has removed cataracts from both my eyes.
I can read well without my glasses. Am sixty-
five years old."
Robert Baker, Ocean Park, Cal., writes: "I
should have been blind had I not used 'Actina.' "
Hundreds of other testimonials will be sent on
application. "Actina" is purely a home treat-
ment and is self-administered. It will be sent
on trial, post paid. If you will send your name
and address to the Actina Appliance Co , Dept
68 B, 811 Walnut street, Kansas City, Mo., you
will receive, absolutely free, a valuable book —
Prof. Wilson's Treatise on Disease.
UNITED GLASS WORKS
Ornamental Class of all kinds. I 15 TURK ST.
S. F. Phone Franklin 1 763. H. R. Hopps, Prop.
ART MOSAICS
on all subjects. Also Plays
and Speakers at Whole-
sale prices. Catalog free.
St. Paul Book & Stationery Co. , 33 Sixth St. . St. Paul, Minn
20,000 BOOKS
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
Thomas £. Watson
Was reorganized out of the New York Magazine which
bore his name. He immediately established publica-
tions of his own which have been running one year.
THEY ARE
Watson's Mersonian Magazine
Watson's Woekly Jeffersonian
PRICE $1,50
PER YEAR
PR ICE $1,00
PER YEAR
BOTH TOGETHER $2.00
Back numbers and bound volumes can be supplied.
These two publications stand for true Democratic Prin-
ciples as our forefathers understood and practised them.
THOMSON, GEORGIA
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
xxxiii
Die in
open air
seeking
water.
Rat
Bis-Kit
Has
cleaned
out the
worst
infested
rat-
holes. ' ' Rats and mice leave choicest food and
grain for it. Dry, clean ; never leaves a mark,
AT ALL DRUGGISTS— 15c. A BOX. If yours
hasn't it, send us 25c. for one box or 60c. for
three boxes, express prepaid. Also ask your
druggest for Yankee Roach Powder or send us
25c.; we'll mail direct to you. "Never fails."
THE RAT BISCUIT CO., Dept., O.M., Springfield, O.
.EASY MONEY.
The $10.00 shares of the Consolidated Laun-
dry Co. of New York earn 25 per cent divi-
dends and enhance to $100. Salesmen wanted.
Investigate. MANHATTAN FINANCE CO.,
1 Madison Ave., New York.
MONEY
MAILER
MAIL ORDER MEN AND PUBLISHERS
DOUBLE your returns with the Money Mailer.
Brings cash with the order. The best advertising
novelty on the market. 1 doz. samples 10 cents
postpaid.
Paper folding Boxes and Waterproof Signs a
k specialty Write ns for prices.
R. LINDLEY PAPER BOX CO. LOUISVILLE, KY.
Every Woman
^M^tff&SSStf*"
I MARVEL WhlrHnj^Spray
Safest— Most Con-
venient. It cleanses
Ask your druggist for
If he cannot supply the
MARVEL, accept no
other, but send stamp for
Illustrated book-sealed. It gives
particulars and directions in-
BRIGHT'S DISEASE AND DIABETES
SUCCESSFULLY TREATED
Under the Auspices of the Cincinnati Evening Post,
Five Test Cases were Selected and Treated
Publicly by Dr. Irvine K. Mott, Free of Charge
Irvine K. Mott, M. D., of Cincinnati, Ohio, well
and favorably known in that city as a learned phy-
sician— a. graduate of the Cincinnati Pulte Medical
College, class of 1883, and who afterward took
clinical courses at the London
(Eng.) Hospitals and has since
1890 been .a Specialist for the
treatment of Kidney diseases —
claims that he has discovered a
remedy to successfully treat
Bright's Disease, Diabetes and
other kidney troubles, either in
their first, intermediate or last
stages. Dr. Mott says: "My
method arrests the disease, even
though it has destroyed most of
the kidneys, and preserves in-
tact that portion not yet destroyed. The medi-
cines I use neutralize the poisons that form a tox-
ine that destroys the cells in the tubes in the kid-
neys."
The Evening Post, one, of the leading daily papers
of Cincinnati, Ohio, hearing of Br. Mott's success,
asked if he would be willing to give a public test to
demonstrate his faith in his treatment, and prove
its merits by treating five persons suffering from
Bright's Disease and Diabetes, free of charge, the
Post to select the cases.
Dr. Mott accepted the conditions, and twelve per-
sons were selected. After a most critical chemical
analysis and microscopic examination had been
made, five of the cases out of the twelve, those
showing the most advanced form of these diseases
were decided upon. These cases were placed under'
Dr. Mott's care and reports published each week in
the Post. In three months all were discharged by
Dr. Mott. The persons treated gained their nor-
mal weight, strength and appetite and were aole
to resume their usual work. Any one desiring to
read the details of this public test can obtain copies
by sending to Dr. Mott for them.
This public demonstration gave Dr. Mott an in-
ternational reputation that has brought him into
correspondence with people all over the world, and
several noted Europeans are numbered among those
who have been successfully treated, as treatment
can be administered effectively by mail.
The Doctor will correspond with those who are
Buffering with Bright's Disease, Diabetes or any
kidney trouble whatever, and will be pleased to give
his expert opinion free to those who will send him a
description of their symptoms. An essay which the
Doctor has prepared about kidney trouble and de-
scribing his new method of treatment, will also be
mailed by him. Correspondence for this purpose
should be addressed to IRVINE K. MOTT, M. D.,
567 Mitchell Bldg., Cincinnati, Ohio.
xxxiv Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
JOSEF HOFMANN SAYS—
"If all beginners at the piano realized what
exasperating, harassing, discouraging, nerve-con-
suming difficulties await them later and beset the
path to that mastery which so few achieve, there
would be fewer piano students."
^ These words, by one of the world's greatest pianists, are no
reflection on the art of piano playing.
fl They merely emphasize the opinion that to master the piano
involves a life's devotion to the art.
0 The busy world of the twentieth century affords to but few
the opportunity of becoming proficient piano players.
ffl But the twentieth century has also produced The Autopiano,
which gives to everyone the ability to play the piano, artistically,
technically and soulfully, without the drudgery of years of prac-
tice. All the gradations of phrasing and individual expression
are at the command of every owner of the Autopiano.
ffl Its marvelous flexibility and superb musical qualities have
earned for it the peerage among all pianos.
ffl If the Autopiano is not in your home your family is denied
the keenest pleasures that make life worth living.
*
d Your "Silent piano" will betaken in exchange. Monthly
payments if desired. Sold only by
EILERS MUSIC COMPANY
1130 Van Ness Ave. 1220 Fillmore St.
SAN FRANCISCO
Oakland, Berkeley, Stockton, San Jose, Eureka. Reno, Nev.
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
450c GENUINE DRAWNWORK
Handkerchiefs
$2.00 Value for $1.00.
These beautiful handkerchiefs are
genuine hand drawnwork on fine
linen lawn ; 11 inches square. As-
sorted designs as illustrated. No. A,
40c ; B. very sheer. 50c ; C and D, 30c
each. Our social introductory offer, *
all four handkerchiefs illustrated. *
sent postpaid for only $1.00. War-
ranted genuine handwork.
GENUINE CORAL ^f\sy
NECKLACE ^UC
Special Half Price Sale.
These 2 NECKLACES for $1.
Warranted genuine,
best imported rich color
coral. For limited time
the following sizes at half regular prices: 16-in. Necklace,
twig coral, like inside illustration, with clasp, re gular 40c, for
20c ; 56-in. Fan Chain, 42c ; 16-in. Necklace of ger 'ne round
coral beads, like cut, regular $1.75. for 85c ; bot .ecklaces
as illustrated for $1.00. ,
Genuine $2.00 Turquoise $1.00
BIRTH STONE FOR DECEMBER
The world's finest turquoise is mined in New
Mexico ; hence we can sell it at half jewelers'
prices. A beautiful azure turquoise with ex-
quisite matrix vein markings, like cut, weight
about 1 carat, regular price $2.00, special offer,
to introduce, each $1.00. Warranted to keep
color; otherwise cheerfully exchanged. Each
gem under our warranty. Our art catalog of
Native Gems, such as Fire Opals. Amethysts,
Arizona Rubies. Topaz, etc.. in colors, free on request.
THE SWASTIKA— This emblem has been used by the
Navajo Indians for ages as an amulet of good luck, and
from this originated the present Swastika fad. We sell only
the original hand=made Swastika, in solid silver and gold-
no cheap imitations, which are unworthy of this beautiful
historic emblem. Our circular giving the history and
meaning of the Swastika sent free on request. We make
the following special offers; illustrations are actual size :
SOLID SILVER.
TURQUOISE-SET SWASTIKA
This brooch is the original hand-made Indian
Swastika, solid silver, hand-hammered with
Indian characters, and mounted with genuine
sky blue turquoise ; fe inch wide, as illustrat-
ed. Good 75c value ; our special price. 50c.
Waist set of four for $1.75. Same brooch
without turquoise, 35c ; 4 for $1.25. Same
thins? in 34 in. scarf pin, turquoise set, 35c;
unset, 25c.
GOLD FILIGREE
TURQUOISE-SET SWASTIKA
This Swastika brooch is solid 16k gold, ex-
quisitely hand-made in gold filigree by our
expert Mexican workers ; a work of art. very
dainty, yet strong. Set with genuine fine
blue turquoise birth stone for December),
showing prettily against the gold, 1A inch
wide, like cut. Worth $3.75. Our special
price, each $3.00. Waist set of four for
$11. Same thing without turquoise, $2.50; 4 for $9. Same
thing in rVinch scarf pin, turquoise set, $2.50; unset, $2.35.
Money refunded if not satisfactory.
fienn'ne Hand-Woven
Indian Basket
100-page Art Catalog of Mexican Drawnwork,
Indian Rugs. Baskets. Pottery. 6 cents.
The FRANCIS E. LESTER CO , Dept. DL ,. Mesilla Park, N.M.
Laraest Retailers Indian- Mexican Han^traft in the World
50c
$3.00
Greatest Possible Service
for Least Possible Expense
This fact has been thoroughly demon-
strated by 16,000 users all over the world.
A car that provides all the enjoyment
there is in automobiling, all the time,
at an expense so small that almost any
family can afford it. The average
expense to maintain the
SINGLE
CYLINDER
*" — -^
AUTOMOBILE
is less than that of a horse and buggy.
Equally dependable, with many times
I the service. An ideal family car good
f foryears of service. The oldest Cadillacs
' made are still running' as well as ever.
Most practical and economical for all-
the-year use, for business and pleasure —
simple and efficient. We prove all these
claims in our 64-page booklet, entitled
"The Truth about the Automobile and
What it Costs to Maintain One"
by actual results in figures, given by users of 104
cars, operated under every road and weather condi-
tion. Mailed free— write at once for Booklet No. 22
CADILLAC MOTOR CAR CO., Detroit, Mich.
Member Asso. Licensed Auto. JIfrs.
FRED'K B. VOLZ MRS HELEN FREESE
Volz & Freese
Importers of works of art*
Present some odd, quaint and
beautiful things from the art
centers of the world: Original
Oil Paintings, Ivory, Miniature
Curved Ivory, Art Furniture,
Bric-a-Brac, Curios, Bronzes,
Statuary, Old Capo Di Monte,
Antique Rouen, Chelsea,
Lowestoft, Bristol, Etc., with
prices that are attractive.
An exceptional opportunity for weeding iresfnts
947-949 Van Ness Avenue
Telephone 2917 FRANKLIN
xxxvi
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
THE LATEST INFORMATION
ABOUT THE PHILIPPINES IS TO BE FOUND IN
HAMILTON WRIGHT'S
Handbook of the Philippines
The volume contains in concrete form exactly
what the Traveler, Exporter, Manufacturer and
Investor wants to know.
The "HANDBOOK OP THE PHILIPPINES"
is intended to portray the islands as they are
to-day, rather than as they have appeared in
the trying crisis through which they have
passed. The history of the Philippines has not
heretofore been neglected. Their interesting
past has been chronicled by eminent writers;
while their political (economic) perplexities have
been detailed at great length by almost half a
score of able writers. But of the Philippines
to-day there are few sources to which the in-
quirer may turn for detailed information; he
can find no book treating of modern industrial
conditions or interpreting the character of the
people through the ready manner in which they
are grasping a scheme of life which was un-
known to them, before the dawn of the 20th
century.
Mr. Wright presents in this volume an amaz-
ing amount of information relating to the
islands, of interest to the traveler and to all
who have or contemplate having any commer-
cial relations with them.
The author's observations of national life are
acute and penetrating. Mr. Wright has pro-
duced a book that is far above the common-
places that some other observers have given us,
and a book that is likely to be a standard for
some time to come. — Argonaut.
Mr. Wright's attitude is definite without be-
ing belligerent, and optimistic without extrava-
gance. He lays stress on what has already been
done by the American authorities toward the
betterment of the Filipinos, and foresees a con-
stant improvement under our supervision, lead-
ing to more and more self-government on the
part of the natives. A volume that should prove
of service to the student and the traveler, and
of particular interest to all Americans, whether
they view with alarm, regard with pride, or
consider with serious and unbiased thought our
Eastern acquisitions. — N. Y. Times Saturday
Review. Nov. 9, 1907.
NET &1.40
Of All Booksellers
A, C, McCLURG & GO, Publishers, Chicago
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertisers.
xxxvii
Ferry 's Seeds
are the best known
and the most reliable seeds
grown. Every package has behind
It the reputation of a house whose
business standards are the highest in the trade.
Ferry's 1908 feed Annual will be mailed FREE to all appli-
cants. It contains colored plates, many engravings, and full de-
scriptions, prices and directions for planting over 1200 varieties of
Vegetable and Flower Seeds. Invaluable to all. Send for it.
D. M. FERRY &. CO., Detroit, Mich.
and For RCT
Illustrated catalogue on application. Office and Factory 1808
Market St., San Francisco. Branch, 837 S Spring St., Los Angeles
Henry's Calcined Magnesia
prevents and relieves sour stomach, assists digestion, overcomes
constipation, and benefits every form of stomach and bowel
trouble. A mild and pleasant remedy for both children and
adults. The genuine has been hi use since 1772, and the bottle
is sealed with the old-fashioned British" Inland Revenue"stamp,
while the wrapper is sealed by a white label in which the name
of Schieffelin & Co. (agents for the U. S.) guarantees the efficacy
of this superior remedy. Ask your druggist for the genuine. .
It is now positiv
known that falling hair
is caused by a germ,
hence is a regular germ
disease. Hall's Hair Re-
newer promptly stops
Calling hair because it
destroys the germs
which produce this
trouble. It also destroys
the dandruff germs, and
restores the scalp to a
healthy condition.
Formula: Glycerin. Capsicum, Bay Rum, Sulphur,
Rosemary Leaves, Boroglycerin, Alcohol, Perfume.
Ask your druggist for "the new kind." The kind that does
not change the color of the hair. R. P. HALL 8 CO.. Nasbai. N. H.
SAM FRANCISCO OFFICE R4 CALIFORNIA IT.
133 Spear Street, San Francisco.
For Breakfast
The Pacific Coast Cereal
THE JOHNSON-LOCKE MERCANTILE CO., Agents
SAN FRANCISCO
xxxviii
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
ASSOCIATED OIL COMPANY
PRODUCERS AND SELLERS OF
FUEL OILS
MANUFACTURERS OF
KEROSENES, BENZINES,
GASOLINES and NAPTHAS
OFFIGE
KOHL BUILDING
CALIFORNIA AND MONTGOMERY
San Francisco
California
Learn Fundamental Thinking
and The Scientific Interpretation of Life
The sum of all scientific knowledge forms a Network of r'ao.ts
and principles, which properly understood, will guide you to the
TRUTH in every field of enquiry.
PARKER H. SERCOMBE Sociologist
Instructor of Impersonal Philoso-
phy based on the Unity and In-
ter-Relationship on all Knowledge
A course of six lessons by mail or in class will enable yon to al~
ways choose the correct point of view on every subject and thus
go far towards systematizing your thoughts and guiding your
judgmen .
No application will be considered unless iti* accompanied by a
sample essay of not more than two hundred words containing the
applicant's best thought on his favorite subject.
1 do not personally accept pay for my service — all fees from
pupils being turned over to trustees, the fund to go toward found-
ing a Rational School of Life and Thought.
For terms address
Parker H. Sercombe, 2238 Calument Avenue, Chicago, III.
SHE'S FLYING.
"I wish I were an angel fair,"
Sang Mrs. Nuwed Fish,
As she lit the fire with kerosene —
The dear girl got her wish.
Hateful Thing.
"I'd like to give you a piece of my
mind." cried the jilted lover.
"I accept," answered Miss Assid,
you think you can spare it."
if
25 SOUVENIR POST CARDS GIVEN with a six
month?' subscription of 25 cents to largest and old-
est 100 page monthly on COINS, STAMPS, POST
CARDS. CURIOS, MINERALS, PHOTOGRAPHS,
RELICS, OLD BOOKS, ETC. Organ of the largest
STAMP. CURIO, POST CARDS AND CAMERA
CLUBS. Ads. pay one cent per word. Phil. West
and Collectors World. Superior, Nebr. Sample free.
Three months' trial, lOc. It's Nebraska's Largest
Monthly.
WHEN IN BOSTON STAY AT THE
COPLEY SQUARE HOTEL
HUNTINGTON AVE., EXETER AND BLAGDEN STS.
A high-class, modern house, intelligent service, moderate prices, pleasant rooms, superior
cuisine. Long distance telephone in every room.
Ladies traveling alone are assured of courteous attention.
300 rooms — 200 with private baths. AMOS H. WHIPPLE, Proprietor.
INCREASE YOUR HEIGHT
/ jsfE-?*!. f^ _ g f*>
BROADEN YOUR OHOULDERS
*f-
ANYONE CAN NOW SECURE A PERFECT FIGURE
YOU can add from 2 to 5 inches to your height, broaden your
shoulders, and increase your chest measurement by the simple,
harmless and practical invention of a business man.
Neither operation, electricity nor drugs are needed to secure
these happy results. It causes no pain, no trouble and necessitates
no loss of time or detention from business. Any one, young or old
of either sex, can successfully use this treatment in the privacy of
their own home. Eminent doctors, scientists and gymnasium
directors have endorsed it. Leading colleges ana universities have
adopted it. It is impossible for any one to use this method with-
out obtaining rrarvelous results.
FREE- TO ANY ONE.
Exactly how it is done is explained in an intensely interesting
hook, beautifully illustrated from life, which the inventor will send
absolutely free of charge to all who ask for it. If you would like
to increase your height and secure a perfect figure, if you want to
overcome the embarrassment of being short and stunted; if you
desire to secure all the advantages of being tall, write to-day for
this free book, which will be sent to you by return mail, free of all
charge, in a plain package. Do not delay, but learn the secret at
once. Simply address
CARTILAGE CO,, 5C UNITY BUILDING, ROCHESTER N, Y,
BISHOP FURNITURE CO,
GRAND RAPIDS
MICH.
SHIP ANYWHERE "ON APPROVAL" allowing furniture in your
h"iiie five days, to be returned at our expense and money refund-
ed if not perfectly satisfactory and all you expected.
\VE PREPAY FREIGHT to all points east of the Mississipi River
an. I north of Tenii.ssee line, allowing freight that far toward
points beyond. When answ ring this advertisement pl-ase state
what articles you are interested in and we will quote you prices
freight prepaid to your station.
Buys this beautiful "Napoleon" Bed
No, 849 (worth $55 00) in Mahogany
or Oak. Drecser to match, and hun-
dreds of pieces in our large FREE
CATALOG. Mailed on request.
Buys this No. 1255 genuine Leather touch (worth $45.00). Has beau-
tiful Quartered Oak frame, full Turkish spring construction, best
leather and filling. Extra large and comfortable. Length 78 inches.
width 32 inches
$24.76(noi$36)
Buys this handsome, high-grade
Dining Extension Table No. 626
(worth $36). made of select fig-
ured Quartered Oak. piano polish
or dull finish. Top 48 inches in
diameter locks securely. Has
beautifully hind carved claw
feet.
WE FURNISH
HOMES
HOTELS.CLUBS,
HOSPITALS
Y. M. G. A.
AND OTHER
PUBLIC
BUILDINGS
COMPLETE
$34.75 [not $50.00]
Buys this handsome high grade Com-
bination China Closet and Buffett.No.
576, (worth $50,00) Made of select
Quartered Oak. any finish. French
Bevel Mirror 24x18 inches. Length 56
inches. Scores of other Buff Ms, Side-
boards. Tables and Chairs in FREE
catalog .
BISHOP
< 1Q 7C buys this No 694 Hand-
*1"-'5' some Mission Bookcase
(worth $10.00). You savo $11.25
because we ship Direct on Appro-
val Muds of Quartered Oak, any
finish. Has adjustable shelves and
heavy glass doors with artistic
lattice design. Height 55 inches.
Width. 44
$10.50
buys this lane, beautiful and
convenient Mission Writing Desk
(No. 735), worth $15.00. Made of
Quartered Oak, any finish Height
42 in Width 30 in You save
$5.25 by ordering Direct.
Our free catalog shows over 1000 pieces of fash-
ionable Furniture. Everything from the cheapest
that is good to the best made. It posts you on
styles and prices.. Write for it to-day.
FURNITURE CO., 78-90 lona St., Gra-d Tapir's
$22.50 [not $40]
buys this la ge, luxurious Colo-
nial Rocker No. 1275 (worth MO),
covered with best genuineleather.
Has quartered Oak or Mahogany
finish rockers, full TurkiFh spring
seat and back. An ornament and
Gem of luxury and comfort in
any home.
Mich.
xl
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
HOTEL EMPIRE
FOR FAMILIES AND TRANSIENTS
Broadway & 63rd St., (Lincoln Sq.) N. Y. CITY
IN THE VERY CENTRE OF EVERYTHING
All surface cars pass or transier to door.
Subway and "L" stations, two minutes
ALL MODERN IMPROVEMENTS
Rooms, with detached bath, 1.50 per day up
Rooms, with private bath, 2.00 " " "
Suites, With private bath, 3.50 " " "
European plan, also Combination breakfasts
EXCELLENT SERVICE-FINE MUSIC
W. Johnson Quinn, Proprietor
POSSESSES the luscious flavor
• of the malt, judiciously
blended with that, of the fragrant* hop, ii
a degree never before attained in ale
brewing.
Evans'
IT gratifies the taste, refreshes the body,
and builds bone and sinew. A "food
stuff" of high nutritive value-- whole-
some and delicious- -a natural tonic.
bs. Hotels, Restaurants, Salo
ad Dealers Everywhe
C. H. EVANS & SONS. Established 1786
Brewery and Bottling Works,
Hudson, New York
JUDICIOUS PURCHASING
OF THE MATERIAL IN YOUR BUILDING MEANS MORE PROFIT ON YOUR
INVESTMENT. A* Ji* BUY FROM US, AS SALES ^AGENTS OF CALIFORNIA'S
BEST CONSTRUCTIVE (^MATERIALS. A* <S? OUR QUALITY IS UNSURPASSED
AND SAN FRANCISCO BENEFITS BY OUR PRICES. A* A* IT MEANS MONEY
TO YOU, WHETHER OWNER, ARCHITECT OR CONTRACTOR.
CEMENT — Standard Portland Cement
Santa Cruz Portland Cement*
LIME — Holmes Lime Co., brands
PLASTER— Marbelite Hardwall Plaster
BRICK — Central Brick Co., Red and Repressed,
Carnegie Brick and Pot*t»ery Co., Fire and
Face Brick, Sewer Pipe and Terra Cot»t»a.
CRUSHED ROCK— Good Qualify. "Blue Trap."
Western Building ^Material Company
430 CALIFORNIA ST.
Phone Temporary 2647
SAN FRANCISCO
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
xli
MODEL B
SENSIBLE, USEFUL GIFTS (or the HOLIDAYS
Attractively Packed in Handsome Single Pair Boxes
back
more and better rubber than any other make, have gold -(jilt
and strong cord ends that cannot wear through. The
free action permits ease and comfort no matter what position the body may assume.
They outwear three ordinary kinds which means three times the service of usual 50c. sorts
THE MOST COMFORTABLE suspender made for man, youth or boy
In Light, Heavy or Extra Heavy Weights. Extra Long (No Extra Cost)
They make inexpensive gifts every man, youth or boy will gladly receive
If your dealer cannot supply you. we will, postpaid, for 50 cents.
Hewes & Potter, Dept. 895. 87 Lincoln St., Boston, Mass. Q'
Via Salt, Lake Route, Union Pacific and North Western, through Salt Lake City, Odgen
and Omaha. All agents from San Francisco South sell tickets to the East, via the Salt
Lake Route. Your patronage is solicited for this superb train.
F. A. WANN, Genl. Traffic Manager; T. C. PECK, Gen. Pass. Agent
LOS ANGELES
Enterprise
Particularly, if you can get it in one that is a money-maker and has stood
all tests for 25 YEAES MAKING a PROFIT each year.
$9.50 will start you, giving you a $10 interest with a personal guarantee "by
the Treasurer of the Company," for B1/^ per cent on your money.
$95 will give you 10 shares of stock (the par value of which is $100), or you
may secure as many shares as you desire by paying one-tenth of the amount
down, one-tenth more each month thereafter, until paid for, Beside getting all divi-
dends paid on your stock during that time.
Just a Moment Now
While I tell you something of this company whose stock I am offering, and
which you should buy if you want a safe, sound and money-making investment,
one that will permit you to sleep well, and makes money for you while you sleep.
History of the Business
Mr. John P. Douthitt, "whose name this company bears," established this busi-
ness 25 years ago, has made money every year since, last year cleared over $50,000.
All these years the business has been located on the wealthiest street, in the greatest
city in the world, 273 Fifth avenue, New York City.
The John F. Douthitt Co. deals in hand-painted tapestries, upholsteries, draper-
ies, oil paintings, water colors, brass goods and antiques of all kinds; besides all
this, the company does a large decorating business. Mr. Douthitt has decorated
some of the finest homes, hotels, theatres, State capitols and court houses in all
parts of the United States.
The company is headquarters ,f or and carries the largest stock of HAND
PAINTED SILK TAPESTRIES IN THE WORLD.
The continual growth of this enterprise made it too large for a one man business,
thereby necessitating making it a corporation, which was affected last November
when the John F. Douthitt Co. took over this excellent business, with a house
packed full of goods amounting to over $200,000 AND NOT ONE CENT OF IN-
DEBTEDNESS. Can one ask for anything better?
There is a limited amount of this stock for sale, but only a part of that will
be sold at $9.50, and the only notice of advance in price will be when printed on
the coupon below.
In filling out the coupon, write plainly the name to whom the certificate is for,
but send in quickly before the advance in price.
There is a good position here for several men in the different lines.
Make all checks and orders to G. M. WHEELER, Treasurer.
JOHN F. DOUTHITT CO. 273 Fifth Ave., N. Y. C.
FORMED UNDER THE LAWS OF THE STATE OF MAINE
Capital stock, (fall paid and non-asseisable) 11300,000.
Par value of shares, §10 each, now selling at &9-50 per share.
Enclosed find S - in payment for _ shares of the Jno. F. Douthitt Co. Issue
Certificate to - , City— -- •,
Street _ , State __ OVERLAND MONTHLY
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
xliii
Gift of Gifts
At* a Moderate Cost*
"Cyco"
Bearing
Carpet,
Sweeper
You can't select an article at double the cost that will contribute
as much genuine pleasure and satisfaction to a friend as a Bissell
Sweeper. Made of the richest woods, hand polished and with
metal parts all nickeled, the Bissell makes a most appropriate
and acceptable holiday gift, and will be a constant reminder
of the giver for ten years or more. Thousands of Bissell
Sweepers are used every year as wedding and holiday pres-
ents. For sale by all the best trade. Prices $2.50 to $6.50.
Address Dept. 124 for
free booklet.
BISSELL CARPET
SWEEPER CO.
Grand Rapids, Mich.
Buy
of your
d e a ler
now and
send u s
the pur-
chase slip
within one
week and re-
ceive a good
quality Moroc-
co leather card
case free with no
printing on it.
(Largest and
only exclusive
Carpet Sweep-
er Makers in
the world.)
xliv
Please Mention Overland Monthly When Writing Advertiser.
"Shave Yourself
"I have already convinced over a million men that a daily home shave with my razor is a
habit that every self-respecting man should acquire. I have taught them
that the "GILLETTE" way is the only way to save time and money —
to maintain an unruffled disposition and to be sure of perfect hygienic
shaving conditions."
My razor is increasing in popularity every day, because it is
absolutely dependable — it is always ready for use — no honing- no
stropping — and it gives as light or as close a shave as you may wish,
without danger of cutting or scratching.
I have changed the entire complexion of the advertising pages of
the prominent magazines of this country, not only by my own ad-
vertisements, but by the greater number of announcements
published by manufacturers of shaving soaps, shaving
brushes, shaving powders, shaving creams and other
shaving accessories that have been made profitable, be-
cause the army of "Gillette " users who are self -shavers
is increasing in number daily.
Finally, I am proving more conclusively every
day, that while there may be room for argument as
to what shaving accessories one should use, there is
no doubt about the Razor. There is but one perfect
razor — for all men — to be used under all conditions
— and that is my razor— the " Qi/lette. "
When you buy a safety razor get the best— the
" Qlllette. " It will last you for the rest of your life —
it is not a toy— it will always give you complete
satisfaction.
The double-edged, flexible blades are so inexpen-
sive that when they become dull you throw them away as
you would an old pen.
The Gillette Safety Razor set consists of a triple silver-
plated holder, 12 double-edged blades (24 keen edges),
packed in a velvet lined leather case and the price is
15.00 at all the leading Jewelry, Drug, Cutlery, Hard-
ware and Sporting Goods Dealers.
An Ideal Holiday Gift.
Combination Sets from $6.50 to $50.00.
Ask your dealer for the "Gillette" to-day. If substitutes are offered
refuse them and write us at once for our Booklet and free trial offer.
GILLETTE SALES CO.,
283 Times Bidg,, New York City
A CHRISTMAS GIFT
FOR EVERY DAY IN THE YEAR
GHOOSE what you will, no gift within your power of giving can add one
half so much to the joys of the coming Christmas as the ANGELUS PIANO.
For all the household, young and old, on Christmas Day and every day
throughout the year, the ANGELUS PIANO heralds a new era of enjoyment
in your home.
Anyone — musician or non-musician — can play the ANGELUS PIANO.
It is an upright piano of the first grade with the world-famous Angelus piano-
player incorporated within its case. The musician can play it by hand the same
as any other piano, or, if you are unfamiliar with the technique of music, you can
play as well or even better by means of the Angelus.
Remember, the ANGELUS PIANO is the only instrument in the world equipped
with the patented expression devices, the wonderful MELODANT and the famous
Phrasing Lever.
The MELODANT emphasizes the melody.notes so that they come out clear and
distinct above the accompaniment.
The Phrasing Lever provides you with absolute and instantaneous control of the
time so that your music will not sound humdrum or mechanical.
Before investing in a piano— FIRST SEE AND HEAR THE ANGELUS
PIANO. It can now be had on very easy terms in every important city in America.
Write us to-day for descriptive literature and name of .representative in your locality.
THE WILCOX & WHITE CO.
ESTABLISHED 1876.
MERIDEN, CONN.
No Other Food Product Has a Like Record
BAKER'S
COCOA Me CHOCOLATE
have received
48 Highest Awards in Europe and America
,uiii have h<-i<i the market for 127 Years with constantly increasing salt--
I
'fctvoice
^cipes
epp
4^
ys
WALTER BAKER & CO., Ltd..
ish«'cl 1780 Dorchester, Mass.
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