The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 10, 1895, Page 24

24 THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 1895. Phyllis says she doesn't see the use of our always going around together and try- ing to learn how to do the same kinds of things. She says that after awhile she | might make up her mind to bea police- man, and I might not be able to be any- | thing but & schoolmarm. Phyllis would make a beautiful police- | man, now wouldn’t she? If she should put on oneof those big helmets they all wear you wouldn't be | able to see anything more of her head | than the ends of her yellow curls that hang down her back. The tails of those big long coats would | drag on the ground, so I suppose Phyllis would think she was just fixed. But| who would mind anything about whata | girl said, and what could Phyllis do with a club anyway? Our policeman took us walking with him so long as we could stand it, and taught us all about how to behave when | you are on a beat. It wasn't anywhere Tear o exciting as I expected. First we went down to the police station, and when it was time for the other officers that had been working to go home to supper, we marched outin squads to take their places. | ‘We marched eight abreast at first, hold- | ing our backs up stiff and straight, all just | exactly alike, and keeping step all the | time. | It was pretty hard work for Phyllis and me, but our policeman gave me one of his hands to hold on to and gave the other to | Phrll That's the way we managed to get to be a part of the squad of policemen that | marched along just as 1f it wasa machine. The most importantpart of being a | policeman is wearing your rubbers all the time you are on duty. I guess that's the way you remember whether or not you are on duty anyway. If you have your rubbers on you are an officer, and when you take them oif you 15t & plain man. You seeif you have your rubbers on you can go where nobody wants you with- out being heard, and you can just slip away from where you don’t want to be without anybody knowing you were there. There is another thing about rubbers. If you loom up suddenly through the fog or the dark without anybody hearmg you you look as big asa giant. Of course a thing like thatis a great help to an officer , The first place we went was up a hill that is so hard to climb that only very rich people can afford to live on it. There is an awful great big dark house only let him take us to Chinatown or to the Barbary Coast some night we would be pretty sure to see some fun. He said it 1s deadly dull most everywhere else, and he yawned a great big yawn. He said there were some places where you could see a dozen fights in two or three hours, and you could just pull out your club and smash away on all the heads you could reach without being afraid of hitting anybody that didn’t de- | serve it, nor anybody with money enough to make vou any trouble about it. There is one fine old policeman down on Kearny street who has been standing on will come to agree with me that children are a modern discovery. Did Chaucer ever hear of achild? Had even the great Shakespeare the least un- derstanding of one? Somebody asked me once to write a lit- é]e story about Shakespeare and the chil- reu. I looked through all the plays, tragedies, histories, comedies, and there wasn't a child to be found! Only Shakespeare’s knowledge of man- kind made him admit when he speaks of the seven ages of man that he is “At first And those dreams should give me back again A peace I have never known since then— ‘When I was a boy—a little boy! THE SUGAR-PLUM TREE. B'{VQ you ever heard of the sugar-plum tree? ‘Tis & marvel of great renown' It blooms on the shore of the Lollipop Sea In the garden of Shut-eye town; The fruit that it bears is so wondrously sweet (As those who have tasted it say) That g0od little children have only to eat Of that fruit to be happy next day. When you've got to the tree you would have hard ime To capture the frait that T sing: The tree is so tall that no person could climb o the boughs where tne sugar plums swing; But up in that tree sits & chocclate cat, And a gingerbread dog prowls below-— And this is the way you contrive to get ag Those sugar plums tempting you so. You say but the word to the gingerbread dog And e barics with such terrible zeat That the chocolate cat goes cavorting around From this leagy limb unto that, And the sugar plums tumble 'of course to the ground— Hurrah for that chocolate cat! There are marsh-mallows, gumdrops, and pepper- mint canes, With stripings of scarlet and gold, And you carry away of the treasure that ralns _As much as your apron can hold ! So come, little child._cuddle cioser to me In your dainty white nightcap and gown, And T'll rock you away (0 that sugar-plum’ tree In the garden of Shut-eye town. GRANDMA'S PRAYER. 1 pray that, risen from the dead, I 'may in glory stand— A crown, perhaps, upon my head, But a needle in my hand. T'yenever learned to sing or play, So let no harp be mine, From birth unto my dying day Plain sewing’s been my iine. Therefore, accustomed to the end To plying useful stitches, T'll be content if asked to mend The little angels’ breeches. TO A USURPER. Aba! a traitor in the camp, A rebel girangely bold— A lisping, laughing, toddling seamp, Not more than four years old ! To shink that I, who've ruled alone So proudly in'the past, up there that looks as if it ought to stand in the middle of a graveyard. Ugh! I wouldn't like to be so rich I had to live in a placelike that. When we were looking at the house a woman came out at a side door and walked into a garden where some stiff-looking rose bushes were | growing in an u TOw. | The woman was brown and old, and she bad on a dress that looked about the same color as the house she came out of. Phyllis said it made her think of the kind of worms and bugs that grow to be just the same color as the places where they | live and the things they have to eat. | The woman walked in among the plants | and she picked up a trowel and dug in the | dirt a little. Two men, gardeners I guess | they were, stood back and watched her, | hanging down their arms. | They looked as if they didn’t think the | woman would do anything they couldn’t | fix all right again, and as if they felt so | sorry.for her they, would just let her go | arolnml doing anything that amused her a little. Phyllis felt sorry too, and sheissucha | funny girl that she thought a whoie lot about that. She told it to mamma when we were going to bed, and mamma seemed | to think a good deal about it, too. She said it reminded her of a story about | an old Scotch woman who was dying. | The minister talked to the woman and | told her she was going away to a beautiful | city, all paved with gold. B Dlih Abre aents o pearl up there where she was going, and shining walls of jasper, and she wouldn’t have any more toil or trouble, but could just twang on a golden harp and sing psalms all day. The poor old woman didn’t look very | glad, and so the minister asked her if she wasn’t thankful to think she was going to such a fine place. The woman just cried one or two little | tears, and she said no, she wasn't glad. She said she'd ever so much rather go to some kind of a place where she could “just dig round a bit.” A few people asked our policeman how to go to some street, and when it was night we had to tell a few boys to go home. But most of the time it was just walk, walk, walk, and no talking at all. It seems to be most'everybody’s business not to talk—most every man’s. The bankers *“The Sugar-plum Tree.” say they don’t talk, and the captain said he couldn’t talk when it was fogzy. Then when we were walking along’ the street that night a man came up to our officer and gave him some money, and said that was to pay him for not talking. Phyllis and I are going to learn not to talk the very first thing we do. We're practicing now, but almost all the time we forget. | your business to scare people. PHYLLIS AND TOMMY ON THE FORCE. just that same corner for over twenty years—and he isn't a Native Son either. But as a general rule if you want to get on ‘the police force itis best to be born a Native Son. Then you want to eat beans and things that make you big and strong, and you want to grow to be more than six feet tall. Tken you want to_get acquainted with all the politicians and saloon-keepers and people like that—people with influence. Then when you are appointed you just get your rubbers and be careful never to talk and you're all right. You want to let on that you're a person of mystery and importance, you know, but you just want to remember that it isn’t all Really, you are hired just on purpose to take care of people and to make things just as safe and comfortable as you can for all the people that live in the city you are hired to take care of. MarY C. JoHNSON. THE DONALD SERIES . TFOR TINY BOYS. NUMBER TWO. “Paul Pry,” Donald’s great big gray the infant, mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms; and then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel gnd shining morning face, creeping like snail unwill: ingly to school.” That was the way a man with a big brain and a wonderful knowiedge of numan nature thought about children in the olden time. All that is changed now. Some of the strongest writers, some of the sweetest poets, are prond fo show that they and love children—are busy writing books and singing songs for and about children, just as if they were real people in the world. Mrs. Stevenson told me, with a sad little tender smile, that Robert Louis Stevenson wrote “The Child’s Garden of Verses” not because he wrote for children but because he was himself a child. That is the way the Poet Field, Eugene Field, who is .just now dead in Chicago, doggie “‘Rags’ eat his dinner. “Paul Pry” was very hungry, too, but every time he crept down and tried to snatch a piece of meat “Rags” made a jump at him, and away poor “Paul’”’ would scamper to the top of the box again. My! What fun it was for “Rags,” who was not half so.large as “Paul.” He thought he was a very brave doggie to drive such a big cat away. So he tried it a great many times with rfect success, when all at once “Paul Fi ” thought he would have some fun, too. go he waited as still as a mouse until “Rags” was busy at the fine bones, then he slid down, crept softly to the plate, and tried once more to get some dinner, but quick as a flash “Rags” jumped at him again and chased him to the foot of the box, when suddenly “Paul” turned, lifted one of his front paws and gave the mischief-loving little doigie such a bard box on the side of the head that itsent him howling to the other side of the porch. Oh! Tt was such fun to see poor little “Rags” pick himself up and sneak off to a corner, irom which he watched ‘‘Paul” finishing his good dinner, showing by his shamefaced looks that he understood per- fectly well just what Donald was laugh- ing about. e THE CHILDREN'S POET. If you children will take down from their library shelves some such musty and dignified volumes as ““The History of Eng- lish Literature’” or *‘A Compilation of the ‘Works of British Poets,” I think when Our officer said that if mammawould pussy, was sitting on the coalbin watching wrote his beautiful bits of child verse. With the wisdom and learnin, Eugene Field bad, too, the fres ins heart of a child. hildish things delighted him—the song of a vird, the affection of a dog, the sports of a boy. He lived his chilahood over again with his children, did Mr. Field. He joined in the boys’ games with grealer gusto than the boys themselves; e cared for and loved their pets always. The Field boys never had to hide their cherished puppies and white mice in barns and woodsheds, no indeed. The dogs were guests of honor in the house, and Field pere was never tired of teaching them tricks, of training the pigeons and canary birds to feed from his hands, to fly about freely without being afraid, without trying to esca Mr. Field’s friends knew all about his fondness for l;]:ets‘ and they used to send euqugh of them to satisfy the most in- satiable boy that ever begged for just one more. Animals of all kinds held high carnival at the home of the Fields, and if there was one thing in the world that Eu- gene Field did enjoy more than poring over some rare old books of Greek poetr’y it was breakin% a goat to harness. Wasn't that just for all the world like a boy grown tall enough to be called a man? _Eugene Field is dead. But his work lives, and plenty of children, old and young, will love him in it, and will hope that with death hascome to him the peace he longed for when he wrote. sick and weary, the lines “When I Was a Boy,” of which this is the last verse: T'd like to sleep where I used to sieep When 1 was a boy, a little boy ! For in at the lattice the moon would peep, Bringing her tide of dreams to sweep of a man and lov- | you have looked them over carefully you 1 The crosses and griefs of the years aw: mmmhmmuwmmm"wm, 5houid be ejected from my throne By my own son at Iast! He trots his treason to and fro. As only babies can, And s Il be his mamma's beau When he's a “gweat, big man”! You stingy boy! you've always had A share in mamma’s heart, ‘Would you begrudge your poor old dad The tiniest little part? That mamma., T regret to see, Inclines to take your part— As if adual monarchy Should rule her gentie heart! But when the years of youth are sped The bearded man, I trow, Will quite forget he ever sald He'd be his mamma's beau. Renounce your treason, little son, Leave mamma’s heart to me; For there will come another one To claim your loyalty. And when that other comes to you. God grant her love may shine Through all your life, as fair and true As mamma’s does through mine. LONG AGO. 1 once knew all the birds that came And nested in our orchard trees, For every lower I had a name— My friends were woodchucks, toads and bees; 1 knew where thrived in vonder glen What plants would soothe a stone-bruised toe— Ob, I was very learned then— But that was very long ago. Iknew the spot upon the hill Where checkerberries could be found. Iknew the rushes near the mill Where pickerel lay that weighed a pound! I knew the wood—the very tree Where hied the poaching, saucy crew, And all the woods and crows knew me— But that was very 1ong ago. And pining for the days of youth, 1 tread the old familiar spot Only to learn this solemn truth: 1 bave forzoiten, am forgot. Yet here’s this youngster at my knee Knows all the things I used to know; To think T ouce was wise as he!— But that was very l0ng ago. I know 'tis folly to complain Of whatsoe’er the fates decree, Yet, were not wishes ali in vain, \ I tell vou what my wish should be: - T'd wish to be a boy again, Back with the friends I used to know, For I was, ob, 50 happy then— But that was very 1ong azo! Eugene Fleld, in With Trumpet and Drum. NAUGHTY, BUT ORIGINAL, A Baby Who Taunght His Papa & Lesson in Forbearance. He is a charming little fellow of 4, pretty in his ways, good to look at, but as naughty as they are made. He sat on the bottom step, kicking his fat little legs and refusing utterly to obey his father, who had told him to go up- stairs several times in increasing degrees of severity. After a few minutes of this clashing of wills his exasperated young parent picked him up somewhat suddenly, earried him up and set him down very firmly on a fihair in his room, went out and shut the loor. Silence reigned. Nota sound from him for at least half an hour. Then the door wa: opened and a sweet little voice calied out: *‘Father have you got over your tan- tdtum yet? for™I should like to come own.” In hunter’s lore there is an idea that the jackal is the lion’s provider; that he lo- cates the game and takes the lion to it. This superstition has no more foundation than is found in the fact that after a lion has slain his quarry the jackals always attend and wait on-the conclusion of the repast, in order to pick up the leavings. Herr Robert von Mendelssohn, a partner in the Berlin banking-house of that name, and an amateur violoncellist of ability, has Emd 40.000 marks (810,0003 for the cele- rated violoncello by Stradivarius, which has of receut years belonged to Herr La- denburg of Frankfort-on-the-Main, who gave 12,000 marks ($3000) for ite PLAYWRIGHTS' TROUBLES, Some Home Truths Told About the New York Man- agers. ASTOLILLIAN RUSSELL'S TIGHTS Wealth Is a Great Handicap to a Musical Com- poser. NEW YORK, N. Y., Nov. 5.—At the performance of “The Heart of Mary- land” the other night a Northern man suddenly found himself applauding the Scutherners in a whole-hearted man- mer. As he realized what he was doing his hands fell to hisside and he exclaimed: *“Well, I'm blowed! I've sat through a good many war plays before this, but I never saw one yet that could make me sit up and blubber like a baby and give the Southerners the good hand. That fellow Belasco must be a corker.” The man who made this speech simply instanced one of the remarkable peculi- arities of this play. Examine the manu- soript, and you would be forced to admit that Belasco has favored neither side; as far as words go he has remained strictly neutral. The heroine is a Southern girl, the hero a Northerner. The heroine nat- urally excites the most sympathy from the audience; but, asthough to counteract | this factional effect, both the villains in the play are Southerners. Perhaps, how- ever, the most wonderful feat which Mr, Belasco has achieved is that before the curtain has fallen on the first act he has reduced the women’s handkerchiefs to a briny pulp, and has obliged the men in his andience to take refuge in “sniffles.” ‘What other playwright has accomplished | this? Look through the big successes of the lest fifteen years, and if you can show me a single dram a where tears have flowed with such alacrity as in “The Heart of Maryland” I will take off my hat to your superior knowledge. Every American should_rejoice at the | success of “The Heart of Maryland.” It means so much, not for David Belasco alane—and surely no man has ever served a longer and more bitter apprenticeship— but to all American playwrights this suc- cess is fraught with significance. It really begins to look as if THR AMERICAN DRAMATIST IS LOOKING UP. So far this season there have been thrice (i'mat big successes—'‘The Prisoner of Zen- da,” ““The Social Highwayman’’ and “The Heart of Maryland.” The laiter two of these plays are the works of American playwrights. The success of Belasco’s lay has set the teeth of every New York manager on edge. Nearly every manager had refused to produce it, be- cause Belasco insisted that Mrs. Leslie Carter should be cast for the part of Maryland. The managers claimed that | Mrs. Carter’s unsavory record in the di- | vorce court would prevent her from ever | being accepted in New York, even if she | were capable of playing so difficult a part. | But so many actresses have been divorced since Mrs. Carter’s affairs attracted public attention that the New York theater- | goers seem to have iorgotten all about it. Indeed, her success in the lending part has | been most emphatic, and the New York | critics, without a single exception, have been oblized to acknowledge that she gives a performance of which any actress might well be proud. WHAT BELASCO SAYS ABOUT IT. Yesterday, in speaking of “The Heart of Maryland,” Bpelasco said: *“Nobody knows what a fight I have had to get this play on the stage. Since my quarrel with® Charles Frohman my way seems to have been blocked in ~every direction. Last year I had made all my arrangements with Mr. Palmer “to produce the play at his theaters, when Frohman’s * and ‘The Fatal Card’ companies were hurried in time. After that slap in the face I went from one manager to an- other only to be turned down. Finally, I met Max Bluman. He and Charles Evans had justleased the Herald-square. Bluman read my piay, and then he said to me: ‘Dave, I’m a greenhorn in stage affairs, but that play is great. Even I can tell that. You go ahead and stage it at my expense. 1 don’t care how much you spend. I'll foot the bills all right, and we’ll open our next season with it at the Herald-square.’ You know the rest,” continued Belasco. “I’ll tell you another reason why I am so elated at my play’s success. It has always been said that I could not write dialogue, and thatv in order for me to write a play that would be a success I must have a col- laborator. This play, ‘Heart of Mary- land,’is all my own, and I am ready to stand or fall by it.”> From present prospects Mr. Belasco will stand. SOME FACTS ABOUT ‘‘THE SHOPGIRL.' ““The Shopgirl,” the latest importation from England, has only scored a partial success. It will never repeat the im- mense success here which it scored in London, because it is too much in the line of the Hoyt farce-comedies. Only words of praise, however, can be bestowed on the company, for a cleverer crowd of per- formers have never been sent over here. Young George Grossmith made the hit of the piece, and his song, “I’'m Beautiful, Bountiful Bertie,” is already being whis- tled on the streets. Asone of the New York critics remarked, young Grossmith is not only the son of his father, George Grossmith, but he is the nephew of his uncle, Weedon Grossmith, an actor who, during his first season in this country, was chief comedian with dear, neyer-to-be- forgotten Rosina Vokes. After Grossmith returned to England Felix Morris played his parts, but his Elace was never filled, and although he ew Woman’ as not appeared here jor ten years now ew Yorkers have not forgotten him, LETTY LIND’S LESS GRACEFUL SISTER. Young Grossmith’s wife, Adelaide Astor, is also a member of the company. She is a pretty girl, who sings in a still, small voice. Her chief claim to distinction lies in the fact that she is a sisterof the famous Gaiety dancer, Letty Lind. Miss Astor dances prettily and is agile, but the grace of the only Letty lies not in her toes, There are several young women in “The Shopgirl” who are aiready cutting a swath on the Rialto. DAN FROHMAN CONSULTS WITH MANSFIELD. But to hark back to American plays again. There is a chance, a very strong robability, in fact, that when the Lyceum tock Company comes back to the home theater it will appear, not in “The Home Secretary.”’ as has been announced, but in “The Social Highwayman.” 1i this plan, which is now under consid- eration, is carried through Miss Mary Stone, who wrote the play, will be paid a compliment of immense dimensions. The situation is simply this: The Hollands produced *‘The Social Highwayman” just at the close of their New York engage- ment. It only ran two weeks, and as it takes the New :York public at least a month to get headed toward a new play, the consequence is that to the great bulk of the metropolitan Fublic it is still an un- known guantity in all but name. Now, as the Hollands will not play in New York again this season, Daniel Frohman is ne- gotiating with Mansfield to secure the New York rights in the play and produce it with Herbert Kelcey as the social high- wayman, and Fritz Williams as the faith- ful” valet. This play would suit the Lyv- ceum Company down to_the ground, and it is sincerely to be hoped thatthe j will be put through. Rileos PINERO'S NEW PLAY MAKES A HIT. Oue of the latest productions at the Ly- ceum ‘will be Pinero’s ‘‘Benefit of the Doubt.”” In London his play has scored a enuine hit. Bernard Shaw, in the Satur- ay Review, declares that it is worth a dozen ‘‘Notorivus Mrs. Ebbsmiths” “‘Second Mrs. Tanquerays.”’ TIGHTS FOR FAIR LILLIAN, Since Lillian Russell announced her in- tention of reappearing in tights once more bids for the contract have been pouring | into Manager Abbey’s office. Miss Rus- sell has elected to appear in *‘The Little Duke.” The title possesses a certain face value, so it will not be changzed, but it may be said at once that as Miss Russell is to play the title-role this particular duke will be little in name only. THORNE'S ‘*LEONARDO.” A great deal of sympathy has been ex- pressed for T. Pearsall Thorne, the young | American composer, whose romantic opera “Leonardo’ is now running at the Garrick. Mr. Thorne has the misfortune | to be rich as well as clever, and in conse- | quence the critics of almost every morn- | ing paper roasted his music most unmerci- | fully. Because it was not bright and ! pleasing? Oh, dear no. They were forced to admit that his work had im- proved immensely since *‘The Maid of Plymouth,” but the criticisms abused | Mr. Thorne for presuming to write an opera and put it on the stage himself. The | real true-.faets about his much-abused production are simply these: The book | of “Leonardo,” as originally presented, | was unpardonably bad. It deserved every | ‘““roast” that it got and more. A new ver- sion has now been made by Mrs. Madeline Lucretia Riley, which is a vast improve- ment. As for the score, well in places his orchestration is weak, but it can honestly | be said that not_ since De Koven wrote | “The Fencing Master’ have so many | charming melodies been heard in an opera. RIALTO NOTES. Georgia Cayvan says that she will not start her starring tour until the middle of January. Not then unless her new play, by an “American author, is completed. Miss Cayvan refuses to say who the author | of the play is, but she admits that it will be the first work of a new writer. Rumor | on the Rialto has it that the authoris E. A. Dittmar, the dramatic critic. o Jaur May, the French pantomimist, will | appear at Daly’s next week in “MHe. Pyg- I malion,” a J)antomime which has never yet been produced on any stage. Effie Shanfion, who is now playing in- genue parts in Olga Nethersole’scompany, will be one of next season’s stars. John Ernest McCann is writing a plag for her, and there is just a bare possibility that | Herbert Kelcey may be her leading man. | W. 8. Gilbert has begun proceedings to | gx_-evenz Miss Nethersole from apEearm in | is one-act play, **Comedy and Tragedy,” | during her present American tour. Miss Nethersole declares that she never had any | intention of producing it. John Hare, | who comes to America. in January, owns the American nights to “Comedy and Tragedy,” and will produce it, with Julia Neilson in the principal part. The largest audience that was ever gath- ered in Abbey’s Theater witnessed Henry Irving’s production of “King Arthur” last Monday night. Lesuie WHITACRE. BEATS HIS YOUNG WIFE. Emma Steigmann Applies. to General McComb for Protection. Mrs. Emma Steigmann, the seven- months’ wedded wife of Gardener Steig- | mann, who is in tne employ of Mayor Sutro, called at the Humane Society rooms | yesterday and in tears begged General | McComb to have her husband arrested. They live at 1046} Folsom street. Mrs. | Steigmann isa good-looking young woman | and although confessing they have been married but a little over half a year, de- | clares her husband treats her crueily. She says she loved her husband and had no idea of the side of his character that has | since been revealed. Only a few weeks | after their marriage he forced her to give | him $40 of her savings by choking and | threatening her. Since then he learned she had $70 apd compelled her in the same and | | Grable, who owns a stonequarry | Edgemont, S.D., and supphed much of | the stone used in building in the to plained to Mayor ‘Sutro, bnt' it made no | improvement in her husband’s treatment. | An official of the society will investigate and try to bring peace to the family. | MRS, EATON'S DIVORCE. | Her Oross-Complaint Proves Effective Before Judge Hebbard. Minnie Eaton has been divorced from William L. Eaton by Judge Hebbard be- | cause of his neglect. The case for d}vorcc | was originally started by Eaton himself, who sued on the ground of infidelity. In | answer to his complaint Mrs. Eaton made | vague threats, which caused bim to with= araw his complaint for infidelity and com« mence again on the ground of cn_xel:i. The principal act of cruelty which he al- leged was that his wife had thrown a stovelid at him. Mrs. Eaton answered by asking for a divorce for herself on the ground of neglect, and to back up her alle- gations she told how he had refused ta support her and had once allowed her to remain in a hospital without visiting her and without paying her expenses. Haton was not present in_court when the case came up and Mrs. Eaton was given a di- vore by default. Their two minor chils | dren were placed in charge of relatives. e ————— THE KRELING LITIGATION. Judgment Rendered in Behalf of Er- nestine Kreling. Judge Trout gave judgment and handed down an opinion yesterday in the old litis gation over the Kreling estate, the suit of Ernestine Kreling, administratrix of Wil- liam Kreling, against Kreling Bros. The judgment is to the effect that, ‘‘Plaintiff ig entitled to specific performance of the agreement on the part of the defendant as prayed for, and that the defendant, within ten days after the entry of this de- cree, pay the indebtedness in favor of the Anglo-California Bank upon the two promissory notes in contest, amounting to $5000, with interest, executed by K ing Bros.” fn default, “The land and improvements with such other property so conveyed to the defendant by virtue of said agreement as may be necessary will be sold to satisfy the demand, a commissioner to be ap. pointed to carry out the order.” — e American Grindstones, A new American industry has been ane nounced, which is destined to give emplo ment to thousands of people in the Ur States. This is the making of ‘the fi rades of grindstones which heretofore have geen imported from Bavaria, France, Scot- od land and England. It has been discove that a better grade of stone than that orted from Europe can be procured in Tnited States. About a year ago near | was attracted by the quality of the sto | that came from the quarry. He sent ls}lecimens of it to stone experts in | East, who pronounced it to_be the f | quality of stone for high-grade grindstones &ey had ever examined, and they declared that 1t was far superior to the im- ported high-grade grindstones. Samples of the stone were then sent to the sc department of the Chicago, Burling Quincy Railroad, and the scien were 0 pronounced in their praise of stone that the company immediately bu a branch line to Ed%smont, and now has in_operation. The Edgemont quarry is a mile and three-quarters long, three-quar- ters of a mile wide and seventy feet deep. The !u%gly of this kind of grindstone is said to almost inexhaustible, and it ig said that the development of this quarry will soon stop the importation, not only of European grindstones, but of emery stones also. “aadhe —_———— Portuguese fishermen say that the black spot on each side of a haddock’s head is an imprint of Peter’s thumb and fingers. Ac- cordiug to the tradition the haddock was the fish from which he took the piece of tribute money miraculously found in its way to give it up. She says she com- mouth. / AT BOTH NEW TO-DAY—DRY GOODS. STORES. 107-109 POST STREET. 1220-1222-1224 MARKET STREET KOHLBERG, STRAUSS & FROHMAN. New Goods Received During Past Week. LINEN PHOTO FRAMES, pretty, inexpeusive, | easy to make; stamped linen, dainty patterns: | artistic frames shaped to match; for 1,2, 8 or 4 | pictures, 40c, 45c, 65c, 80c, $1.10. (We also have them embroidered.) HEAVY CARDBOARD FRAMES, for water- color sketches; round, square, oval and in sev- eral odd and’ pretty shapes, for cabinet-size photos, 45c Each. (We have some of each style, painted.) | DENIM CUSHION TOPS, lovely tinted designs; | among the color effects are tans, blues, old rose | and red; they are 24 inches square; only | 25c Each. DUCK TABLE COVERS, 36 Inches square; | tinted, fancy fringed, embroidered designs: | green, b!éle, red and white; should be 75c; very | special ai 55c Each. ART DENIMS, handsome color effects; dozens of designs, including the large scroll patterns now used for wainscoting rooms, covering couches, cushions, etc. 27 inches..20¢ yard 30 inches..30¢ yard 36 inche 50 inche 40¢ yard 75¢ yard | FIGURED BURLAP, in all new art shades and ‘most tasteful designs; twenty patterns to select from, 25c Yard. | NEW TAM O'SHANTERS, the kind that little girls wear to school and that big girls wear with outing costumes; a dozen new styles in 20 different colorings; a third less than usual prices, 20c¢, 35¢, 50c, 65¢, 75¢c. HEMSTITCHED TEA CLOTHS, 24, 27 and 30 ‘inches square: stamped with new and artistio designs: worth 50c, 25c Each. A Special Sale of A Regular Bargain Carnival Fine Silks. in Silks this week. We quote some items that should interest the best dressers in town. There are plenty of patterns, plenty of colors, so that there will be no disappointment to Silk-shoppers. Two Silk Dresses for the price of one nowadays. BROCADED TAFFETA in colors, width £ 50 19 {nches, handsome and dressy; for- mer price 85¢, now.... .. Yam SURAH SILK, 24 inches wide, all silk, go0d heavy quality, two preicy siripe £EC | atterns, for walsts, skirts or linings; 99 | ormer price 85¢, Bow. S5 XA BLACK DUCHESS SATIN, 25 inches T SR it sold_regularly 8t $1 50, now. Yard BLACK BROCADED TAFFETA, 24 inches wide,15 new and exclusive pat- terns, on sale as a very special value at.... AR 75° Yard BLACK SURAH SILK (just the kind for ‘mufilers, by the way), & very fine quality, width 25 inches; special at... (Good qualities at 65¢ and 75c.) si2 FANCY STRIPED BLACK TAFFETA, 22 inches wide, all silk, stripes in blue or gold, very dressy, and extra value at...... 75° Yard )