The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, May 24, 1896, Page 27

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, MAY 24, 1896. ARIS is the Mecc! of every art student. Two or three in every hundred men and women who leave San Francisco to study re- main in Yew York. What is the reason? What advantages can Paris offer that we canrot enjoy in New York? The day has not yet come when we can afford to annihilate the time-worn legend that thereis no American art. We have Auwerican artists who rank with the best of the foreign men, but we have looked too long and too steadily at the great light shining from the European capitals not to be alittle blinded by the glare. If there 1s no distinctively local art it isbecause Ameri- can life lacks every conventional pictu- resque element. In every school in New York, with one exception, the model in the sketch class was a Turk, an Algerian or & Spaniard, posing in more or less gorgeous trappings. At the Art Students’ League it was a relief to find a woman posed in a tender half-light, gowned in simple gray, with her hands folded in her lap. The unfortunate artist must live—the picture-buyer insists upon Italian cour- tiers or Moorish bandits or ymmaculate French or Dutch women in sabots ana fresh white caps. The same prejudice ex- ists for the purchase of pictures of foreign artists with foreign names. How many good San Franciscans own a W m Chase? I know of two. One, the figure of a girl, once the property of Emil Carlsen; the other, the head of a child, belongs to Rudolf Taussig, and was shown at the exhibition of the portraits of women. I know of no landscape. Chase paints—and paints exquisitely—in New York and theenvirons. Who has not the level lawns of Central Park, the smooth paths, the charming lake, the children sailing their little boats! He has been for years the president of the Society of American Artists, and an acknowledged authority at home and abroad—yet he was sold out'by the Sheriff not too long ago. How many San Franciscans own a Dewing, or a Kenvon Cox, or 8 George de Forest Brush, or have ever beard of them ¥ Mr. Brown and his street arabs stand for the general public as the ideal American art. Paris has an_indescribable attraction to every art student—the gay, reckless, pic- turesque side of life has been done such ample justice in the memoirs of artists, in the novel and short story. The Latin Quarter! Tne left bankof the Seine! The very names give a little thrill. To quote a young American girl who had driven through this wonderful Latin Quarter: *“Why, there is nothing there to gee—it is just like any other poor part of Paris!” Young men and women with money to spend may find in Paris the realization of every desire—it is at once the cheapest ana the ‘most expensive town in the world. For the majority, on microscopic allow- ance, it is not all glitter and gold. To live au cinquieme or bigher, to rise in a chill and shivering dawn, to light the tire or to do without one, to share a slatternly ser- vant with four or five amiable brother or sister artists; to cook the lean and hungry mutton chop over a smoking fire, to attack in a strange tongue the sympathies and antipathies of a foreign cou things suggest infinite possi liness and disillusionment. It will be my object to present dispas- gionately the advantages of schools in New York, with as much practical information 2s possible—to be followed later by similur s on the schools of London ana Paris. rder to beaccurate, I shall quote freely from the catalogues and circulars. The most important school in New York is the Art Students’ League, which was founded on the 2d of June, 1872, incor- porated in 1878, and which has recently settled in the charming building, 215 West Fifty-seventh street, sharing it with the Society of American Artists. It was established and is maintained by art students of New York for the purpose of giving academic instruction in drawing, painting, modeling and composition. It 12 an entirely self-supporting and co- operative institution. It is managed by a board of control, consisting of twelve menibers of the league, elected annually, who Teceive no remuneration for their services. A majority of the members of the board are actually at work in the classes. Artists and students intending to make art a profession and who have worked in the life classes three months may be elected members of the league if recom- mended as eligible by the board of control. At the end of the school year the award of the Henderson scholarship of $250 and a vear’s tnition will be made to the student baving done the best work of the season. A prize of $50 is awarded to the student of ‘the modeling classes who models the best figure. There is a formidable list of instructors: George R. Barse Jr., J. Car- roll Beckwith, George de Forest Brush, Clifford Carleton, William M. Chase, Kenyon Cox, Marg T. Lawrence, H. Sid- dons Mowbray, Robert Reid, Augustus St. Gaudens, J, H. Twachtman, Douglas Volk, J. Alden Weir, Irving R. Wiles. The drawing classes consist of morning, afternoon and evening classes in the pre- paratory antique, the antique and life. The hours are from 8 A. M. to 12 M., from 12:30p. M. 10 4:30 P. M. and from 71010 P. M. The morning and afternoon classes are (by the month) $8, from January to June $35, from October to June $50. The modeling classes consist of morning and evening classes, modeling in clay from cast and life. The hours are from 8:30 A, . to 12:30 P. M. and from 7 to 10 r. M. Additional classes afternoon and evening are added as may be required. A reduction of 25 per cent is made to students working in two- of the above classes. 2 B The painting classes consist of morning and afternocn classes, painting from the nead, the draped model or still life. The hours are from 8:30 to 12and from 1 to 4. The painting classes are (by the month) $12, from January to June $50, from Octo- ber to June $70. The sketch classes are §2 a month or $1 for students working in any other class. The requireraents for admission are al- ways the same in all the schools. P?:)r the life class the student must sub- mit & arawing of a full-length nude figure from cast or life. = For the painting classes drawings from cast or life. For the antique a drawing from the cast. For the modeling classes examples of drawing or modeling. 5 Instructors, preparatory antique—J, H. Twachtman, pupil of Boulanger and febvre; Douglas Volk, pupil of Gerome. Anugue—J. Carroll Beckwith, pupil of Carolus Duran; Douglas Volk. Life classes (&uwing, finlntmg and com- position)—H. Siddons Mowbray, pupil of Bonnat; Kenyon Cox, pupil of Gerome and Carolus Duran; George R. Barse Jr., pupil of Cabanel, Boulanger and Lefebvre; George de Forest Brush, pupil of Gerome. Medeling classes—Augustus Saint-Gau- dens, pupil of Jouffroy; Mary T. Law- Mr. | en in the exhibitions of Paris or Munich | | Mr. Chase in Europe Robert Blum has taken his place. J. Alden Weir, pupil of Gerome; Robert Reid, pupil of Boulanger | and Lefebvre. Y - | Sketch classes—Irving R. Wiles, pupil of L. M. Wiles. Lefebvre, Carolus Duran; Clifford Carleton, pupil of the Art Stu- dents’ League. 2 The buiiding is new, the studios beauti- | fully lighted and arranged. A large room | bas been set aside for a members’ room, | fitted up with tables for writing, with | bookeases, with great armchairs ana | divans. In the moments of deep | pression which so frequently attack a stu- | dent after a criticism it is a delightfully | quiet place to indulge in,*‘the blues,” to | 1perate, to read quietly or to res ! ‘The lunchroom is another admirable | feature of the school. No more meager | luncheons of sandwiches and an spple | eaten hurriedly in a_corner or spread, like an offering, at the feet of a plaster god. Here it is possible to get hot dishes, well served, at the most reasonable prices. | There are at present more than a thou- sand pupils; sometimes over six hundred | are in attendance at once. Around the corner from the Art Stu- dents’ League, in Carnegiej Hall, among a perfect hotbed of studios, id the Metropoli- tan School of Fine Arts. The requirements for admission and the | prices for the different classes are the same | as in the league, with the exception of the stead of $12. |in = | Inconsequence of the closing of the de- | painting classes, which are $10 a month, | study of antigne ornament—Egyptian, Assyrian, Greek, Roman, Moorish, Byza tine; the "application of design to the manufacture of wall paper, carpet and silk; the application of elementary in- struction to the work of an architect’s draughtsman, to illustrating and lithog- raphy. There are special courses in book: cover designing, in stained glass, etc. The details of class work vary from year to year. All students are required to study the course in historic ornament, which extends through two years and is included in the regular tuition. The fees are $50 for the year, or at the rate of $20 per term. The special courses are each $25. During the past year designs to the amount of $4879 have been sold by the students. They receive the entire amount of these sales, as no commission is ac- cepted by the school. There are any number of scholarships | and prizes offered by the patrons . of '.Re | scbool and by many of the largest houses for wallpaper and carpets. A mixed school for men and women is the Artist-Artisan Institute and Mrs. Coy’s School of Industrial Artand Techni- cal Design, 140 West Twenty-third street. For many years the board directory of the Y. W. C. A. has done an important | work as a bureau of information for women seeking board in hotels, boarding- | houses or homes. By careful investiga- | tion of the houses offering such accommo- cations they were able to recommend such places to women coming as strungers to this great metropolis. Many difficulties have beset this work, { and especially where the stay was to be skort. Those who keep boarding-houses are generally unwilling to receive tran- sient guests, and hotels are too expensive for the means of the average self-support- ing woman. Mrs. Elliott F. Shepard, one of the vice- presidents of the association, conceived | the generous design of supplying to self- supporting women the accommodation they so sorely needed. Few women would have had the power 10 execute such an undertaking, and by the desire of many friends the home bears the pame of its founder. The Margaret Louise Home was for- mally opened to the public on Monday, January 19, 1891. The building, 14 and 16 East Six- | teenth street, is a handsome six-story structure. The Romanesque front is of brownstone; the stairways are of stone, with iron balusters. | The restaurant and lower halls look out + upon a skeltered courtyard, full of flowers. | = schools of the Metropolitan Museum, the Metropolitan school was formed by stu dents of that institution on the same gen- eral plan as the Art Students’ League. Ths instructors are H. Siddons Mowbray | for the life class, J. Carroil Beckwith for | painting and drawing from still life and portrait, Herbert A. vy for antique, B. West Cllnedinst advanced antique, George M. Reers evening and advanced antique, and a special class in illustrations and compositions in charge of the well-known illustrator, Charles S. Reinhart. | The oldest school in New York is the | Academy of Designs. On the 8th of No- | vember, 1825, & number of young artists |and students established the New York Drawing Aasociation, and soon after, on the 16th of January, 1826, they resolved | themselves into a new organization to be known as the National Academy of the | Arts of Design. They thereupon chose from their number fifteen artists who were | directed to choose fifteen others—the thirty | thus selected to constitute the new society. Of this body of founders the last sur- | vivor, Thomas 8. Cummings, N. A., who | was for many years the treasurer and at | one time the vice-president of the academy, | died September 25, 1894. There are but few familiar names among these thirty founders—aias, for the mutability of fame! | Rembrandt Peale, John Vanderlyn, | Thomas Cole, Henry Suman. In the list | of students of the National Academy for | the last sixty years we may find the names | of many of the most eminent artists of America. The antique classes are in_ charge of Francis C. Jones, N. A., and Edgar M. | Ward, N. A. The day life ciasses are in | charge of Charles Y. Turner. The night | life class and the portrait-painting classes are in charge of Edgar fi ‘Ward, N. A. | The still life class is in charge of Francis C. Jones, N. A. James D. Smillie gives instruction in etching and Olive L, Warner in modeling. The National Academy has occupied for many years the fine old building on the corner of Twenty-third street and Fourth avenue, but in the spring it is to follow the movement uptown and there will be one landmark the less, for the historic building is to be torn down. One of the most interesting of the New York schoois is that of Applied Design for ‘Women at 200 West Twenty-third street. The School of Applied Design for Women was ofganized by Mrs. Dunlap Hopkins, who is at present in London assisting i the attempt to found a similar school there. Its purpose was to affora instrue- tion which will enable women to earn a livelihood by the employment of their taste and manual dexterity in the appli- cation of ornamental design to manufac- ture and the arts. An extensive field lies open for the employment of women who qualify themselves” to enter upon it, in making designs for carpets, wallpapers, oilcloths, silks, cretonnes, chintzes, furni- ture, book-covers, illustrations, and for many other branches of manufacture in- volving the use of ornamental designs. This gives the manufacturers the oppor- tunity for securing good designs from a practical training school. The occupa- tion of a capable designer is continuous and permanent, and itis work for which women are especially adapted. Akin to this is the work of thearchitect’sdraughts- man, which sition women fill, with practical training, fully as well as men. The instructors are practical men and women actually employed in manufac- tories or architects’ offices. The elementary department consists of a course in object drawing, in perspective, in geometrical design, a course in the con- rence, pupil of Saint-Gaudens. Painting classes — William M. Chase, -oupil Af Piloty, During the absence of struction of curves, the conventionaliza- tion of natural.forms, cast drawing, etc. The historic ornament consists in the | A JAPANESE SKETCH—One of the Delicate Pastel Studies That Now Adorns the Studio of Theodore W, ores in New York City. A Cottage Designed by Misses Gannon the School of Applied Design TRAVELING DOWN - THE COAST RANGE, By Rail and Stage From San Luis to Lompoc and Santa Barbara. THROUGH GAVIOTA PASS. A Country of Magnificent Undeveloped Resources Anxiously Waiting the C>ming Railroad. | SANTA BARBARA, CaL, May 2 Our California, pulsing with hope and | energy, moves forward so steadily from vietory to victory that we sometimes for- get to note how fast a beautiful and un- trammeled past is disappearing, and for- ever. The great estates, or ranches, with all that they typify, are being fenced, divided, modernized. The railroad is gathering up links long neglected and welding them together. The days of the stage coach are nearly ended. When the Coast Railroad is finished to Santa Bar- bara we may well mingle with our cap of rejoicing & drop of regret for that upon which Ichabod is already written—the age of the pioneer. Let us, then, take a little journey together, dear reader. Perchance we shall see somewhat of that which we shall have lost when the last spike is hammered home. South by rail from San Francisco on the Coast division brings one, after nine hours of travei, to San Luis Obispo, in the midst of pointed, cloud-capped peaks. Here the old route ends; here progress has already won mastery. Beyond San Luis Obispo lies a region as yet comparatively unknown to the summer tourist. One can go to Santa Barbara by two routes from San Luis Obispo—by the narrow-gauge and by stage, or by the broad-gauge to Viaduct, | the present terminus, beyond Someo, thence by stage to Lompoc and beyond. | The former route at present gives less | staging—about forty-five miles—while the | latter requires twelve miles of staging to Lompoc and sixty-tive miles beyond to Santa Barbara, seventy-seven miles in all. Both routes are extremely interesting, but the longer one was selected, as it lies more nearly along the grujec\ed route of the railroad. It will shorten steadily, and as soon as the terminus moves south of the crossing of the Lompoc River staging by this route wili reach 1ts picturesque prime. That stretch of weary sand dunes over ch horses can hardly drag a stage now constitutes the worst part of the whole journey. South of S8an Luis Obispo, in the last hours of the afternoon, the land gleams and g!ov\s with beauty. One sees half- | abandoned orchards sown to grain and well-kept orchards sloping up the hill. Old farmhouses nestle in the hollows; new villages arc soringing into life. One no- tices the nearly universal use of Monterey cypress for hedges and wind-breaks, ss around the new station of Edna, for in- | stance. There are very few eucalypti here, but the cypress walls extend: o miles, blocking out wtole quarter-sec- tions. A lovely winding valley opens up— Price Canyon ‘the railroad men call it. ‘The broadgauge crosses the Narrow-gauge track here. Hign, wonderful to see, a mass of dark bituminous rock rises like a huge Gibraltar promontory. Below i without unduly straining one’s imagina- tion, you cbserve a huge lion’s massive bead, nature-hewn in livin, rock. Around, for miles, are scatteree asphal- tum springs and mines of asphaltum. In warm, sheltered nooks, which seem abso- lutely frostless, are fields of corn and | beans. Small oak groves, but not so fine | as those farther south, appear on either hand. Next come narrower canyons, and slop- \\ RS \ N\ A and Hands in the Architeet’s Office of for Women in New York City. The lower floor is of marble mosaic and the wainscoting in tiles. Everything is in a soft, subdued color and in excellent taste. Four floors are devotea entirely to bedrooms, while on the top floor, in ad- dition to bedrooms, are the linen and cedar closets and a laundry. The roof has a pavement of fire-proof brick and is furnished with chairs and settees and on summer evenings forms a most at- tractive resting-place. The price of single rooms is 60 cents a day ; rooms with two beds, 80 cents. The limit of time for each guest 1s four weeks. The restaurant is open to women only. The prices by the week are for lunch $1; breakfast and dinner $2 50; breakfast, lunch and dinner $3 50. The single meals are breakfast 20 cents, lunch 20 cents, din- ner.30 cents. Down in Washington square Emil Carl- sen and Guy Rose have their studios. Mr. Carlsen has a magnificent workshop b and empty. He is painting a landscape o! 4 group of beautiful bare trees that make a framed picture of one of his windows, . There are any number of San Fran- ciscans who have driftea to New York to remain; there are not many art students from California. Theodore Wores has a delightful stugio in Carnegie Hall full of Japanese sugges- tions; the gold Buddha still grins ecstati- cally from his corner table, everywhere are Japanese carvings and embroideries. A charming model in a Japanese gown rested on a divan. He has a number of delicate astel studies—one of a girl standing be. ore an idol to whom she is ppuam.fy of- fering n&’hlr prayers, while wreaths of smoke rise from the taper in her hand. How long Mr. Wores may remain in New York is an open question. He suggests India as the future goal of his travels. Mr. Irwin is in the same building busy with 8 number of portraits. Vax Dyck Browx, New York. Mav 18, 189, ing hillsides rising into wind-swept ridges. Wild flowers are blooming everywhere on the slopes—not the golden hues so com- men fariher north, but more delicate shades of rose and purple.. It is said that beautiful ecrystals of uartz are found in these mountains. ere and there, on little “‘flats” of black soil, are fragmentary orchards. At one curve we notice a large fig and olive, Spanish-planted a generation ago. Next comes a glimpse of Pismo, and the long, wide beach of sloping sand extend- ing south. One could easily drive eighteen mfien on this beautiful beach, one of the finest in America. Here the railroad line touches the ocean cliffs. We first enter upon the realm of sea dunes. Art and literature lairly revel 1n pictures and de- scriptions of the rolling sandhills under blue sky by the st ocean. Infinite vari- ety of color in the sand itself, 1n its green cloak of plants and its varied blossoms. A wonderful iife and a terrible desolation; a land that is set apart forever from the rest of California. Here js an immense area that never can be fit for homes. It belongs at present to the dairyman. the hunter, the gypsy and the artist. Some time it will belong to the forester, and the State will take up the great work of fencing back these giant sand waves creepin, steadily inland by planting millions o pine trees. Along the railroad track of this part of the division the Southern Pa- cific has found it necessaryto run wing fences along the seaward side in many a zigzag, and to “blanket” the steeper siopes w?t adobe. It will be an unending fight against the sand until forests of pine are planted. Meanwhile, however, one fragment of rich country breaks the sand barrier. At Oceano, a little new town at the mouth of the Arro{o Grande, we can look eastward and see the wide sweep of that wond fully fertile territory known as the Arroy;J on sout Grande region. A lttle below we oross lthe valley itself. Years ago this] was an almost continuous forest of giant willows. | The thickets have been cleared and the | little farms have 2 satisfying look of pros- | perity. The town of Arroyo Grande, with 2500 inhabitants, lies a few miles back, on the narrow-gauge. One is told that $25 per acre is annuaily paid as rental for these bottom lands. The district bas sev- eral times taken prizes at Eastern vege- table exhibits for the largest vegetables grown in America. I hesitate to say how many hundred pounds the prize squashes have weighed or how many feet long was the prize carrot. We have a fascinating glimpse of a blue lake a few acres in extent lying among the high sand_hills. In a little while longer we swing into Santa Maria Valley, an im- mense gray plain of fallow land ready for beans and late crops and streaked with broad green ‘bands of growing cereals. | Soon we are at Guadaloupe and have crossed the line into Santa Barbara | County. We look outwarc to a vast circle of cloudy hills, the rim of the great valley. Narrow ribbons of swamp lie near at hand. Bits of unbroken territory still unutilized, dotted with gray sage, rise like islands from the vlain. The whole valley, though pulsing with new life and_ vigor, is vet near its sleepy past of Spanish dominion. The new and the old are struggling _to- gether. Black shanties and crumbiing | adobes are on one side, while on the other, crowning a hiliock, is the new high school building with its western frontage flaming in the setting sun. At the station is a motley crowd, American, Norwegian, In- dian and Spanish. New farm wagons, freshly painted, stand in line with buggies and carts, while an old Mexican mounted on a cavorting mustang gallops down the street. At Guadalupe we obtain the first clear evidence that we are in the midst of a growing railroad division. Here are con- struction trains on four or five sidetracks. Here also are huge piles of iron girders and bridge timbers. Below the track one sees half an acre of carts and wagons. The cities of tents are farther on, at the front. Nevertheless Guadalupe swarms with contractors, railroad men and speculators. A breezy life puises through the p'ace. 1t carries my thoughts back to pioneer Salinas in the- later ’60's, when the rail- road had just reached tbat place and the town concluded to macadamize its main street, do some builaing &nd wake itself up. The beauty of the Guadalupe region is in its broad blue lagoon, the narrow, wind- ing Lake of Guadalupe, three miles long, which adds a great charm to the place. Grazing upon its banks are several hun- dred horses belonging to contractors. The word has gone out that they have gland- ers, and the whole band will fall before the rifle within a few days. Schuman Canyon comes next. It is a dairy region. One sees many caitle and dozens of calves in pretty groups along the converging ridges. Soon we reach Someo, the beginning of the tented towns of the railroad-builders, aland of sea sights and sounds, an ocean rim of yellow lupins and | hills of shifting sands. Point Sal uplifts | from thesea its wild wave-beleaguered Sromantory. Far beyond it trails the ark smoke of a passing steamship. A few moments more of this rapid rush | | through the sand-drifts and we are where | | the god Terminus, that lord of ever-| advancing boundaries, at present holds | his court, The railroad ends in a mound | | of sand. "Tents fill the adjacent hollows: | A vast barranca seems to forbia further | | advance; but the framework of a half- | butlt bridge blackens the last gleams of twilight, and far beneath it, in the willows of the river, other tent-dwellers have taken shelter. | Baggage and mail are tossed off in the | sand. We climb into the stage for a ride | of twelve miles to Lompoc. It takes six | horses to pull the vehicle through the | | sandhills and up the grade to the mesa. | | We go at a walk for several miles; the | | darkness deepens; the fog blots out the | stars. Congenial spirits begin to exchangze | stories wild and weird; social life is evi- i denllf‘ the only resource left. After awhile | | the driver lights the side lamvs. The| | road, long winding about th.e desolate | | ehaparral heath, begins to swing down the fulches toward the Lompoc.River. The ight gleams fitfully on the horses, chang- ing them to ghostly black and white mon- | | sters; it flashes into the pale tree tops; it reveals unimaginable deeps beyond the crumbling verge. As we ride down the ravine some of us remember De Quincey’s famous description of the flying stage coach in his *“Vision of Sudden Death.” Lompoc was reached at 9 o'clock and we went to bed at a neat, well-kept new botel, a credit to the town. In the morn- ing at 7 the stage was ready to take uson our way. Lompoc is a lovely and rich valley, notabie these many years for its re- sources and for the sturdiness of its pio- neers. The railroad line will pass about nine miles west of the town, and for a few vears the business of the valley will main- tain a thriving stage line along the river. | But railroad men tell me thatitisonly a | question of time when a branch line will thread the valley and reach the rich back country. [ remeniber Lompoc town in the days of its beginnings, when half a dozen new shanties clustered close to the western ridge. Now it is as comfortable and prosperous a valley town as one could: wish to see. It did one’s heart good to note how burly and strong the pioneer baby of & village had become. The stage journey south of Lompoc be- gins at once to be attractive. We pass- through rape fields in blossom. Children are out, hean-plantingin the bottom lands. Malva hedges twelve feet high are near the roadside. We turn into the hills and through a gate enter the Sul si Puedes or “Get out if vou can” rancho, a part of the Hollister estate. For nearly thirty miles we have now to cross the great unpeopled land of magni- ficent Spanish ranches. It is difficult to describe its richness and beauty, the noble aspects of its scenery, the loveliness of its wonderful fertile valleys, the silence of its unbroken sleep. Thou marvelous, thou long-beloved land of ruined Spanish houses, of oak forests unsurpassed else- where in California, of mountains flaming with bloom, “‘golden spurs” of mountain ridges high rising in the white clouds, low sinking among the oaks. Thou land of the shepherd, the herdsman, the hunter and the fisherman, fair, large, hospitable ranch-houses, where the | wanderer may rest. The end of it all is very very mear. Such land was meant for higher human uses. The Hol- lister ranches, the great Dibblee ranch and others that extend far west to Point Con- cepcion will be divided and thousands of homes will occupy the region. Our route is past the famous San Julian ranch house with its sheltered courtyard, its tall cypresses, its great sheep-barns, sheds, dipping-tanks and corrals. In its gardens are wide masses of Castilian roses run wild; on its hillsides are thou- sands - of nibbling sheep, slow-moving across unmeasured acres of wild flowers and grasses. Silhourtted against the sky the shepherds and their dogs look down upon the stageroad winding through oak- clad valieys. It is a land of singing birds: whole troopsof brilliant-plumaged orioles and wild canaries are moving through the trees. Soon we reach the parting of the road. One fork leads. to Los Olivos and Najoqui; the other, which we take, is the old coast route by Gaviota. ILa Gaviota Pass, the pass of the Sea- ull, is one of the most wonderfal of reaks in a_shapely outlined rockwall that exist in California’s Coast Range. After' a considerable descent along the canyon we turn between overhanging crags and face the ocean again, Tbe river winds to the beach through an ancient lagoon, silted up with sediment. Once it was a blue lakelet, and it may be so again if the ocean builds a sufficient wall of sand on the seaward side. Our course lies down the coast, along the low cliffs and narrow space between wave and mountains. We Channel, with the fair, large isles of Santa Cruz and Santa Rosa keeping guard on the horizon’s rim. Wild mustard is in bloom along the shore for miles on miles. Blue skies, blue seas and layish gold of this most vivid golden flower illuminate this lovely lotus land. Still the great ranches rule, still the world sleeps. and waits and blossoms by a thousand name- less M{l and promontories full fronting ern seas. How beautiful the old-time names all | | queen unhesitatingly rather than injure a | along this route! After leaving La Gaviota Wwe pass Arro Honda (abbreviated from Arroyo), Quemada, La Patera. The nar- row rim of fertile land widens into that lovely land of gardens, the northern suburbs of Santa Barbara ifself. Eastward, behind hills of green and goid, rise dark mountains of rock and chaparral. Above them a river of white clouds flows, eleam- ing in the sunshine. The sea mists veil the islands. Mingled lights ana shadows, sun, wind and rain, struggle together in this great land. Through a rift in the clouds the sunlight pours down on the old Mission towers. " We are at the very, gates of Santa Barbara, the long stage ride of seventy-seven mi'lau. through one of the most attractive portions of the coast range, draws to a close, and in a few minutes our horses’ hoofs are on the asphaltum pave- | ment. CHARLES H. SHINN. —_— BEAUTY’S EYES. Her eyes are the mist of the morning Wheén the night has been still, And the earliest flush of the dawning Rises over the hill, Though the field and the woodland and river On earth’s bosom slept They would answer and tremble and quiver It she wept. Her eves are the starlight of even, ‘When the moon Is away, Aud mystery reigns in th In her mantie of gray. Thouagh the spheres were with sorrow o’erladen By the ages defiled, ! Yet their song would respond to the maiden If she smiled. —Times of India. PN [All communications concerning whist, an- Ewers to problems, etc., should be addressed, Whist Editor,” CaLL, City.] heaven | Many beginners at whist seldom if ever lay any importance on the subject of dis- carding. Few points of whist-play are more important, and, it might be added, few are more neglected than the discard. An original discard is like an original lead in its significance; a forced discard hasa meaning akin to that of a forced lead. It is as important to distinguish a forced from an original discard as to avoid mis- taking a lead from weakness for a lead from strength; and finally, to discard properly at the close of a hand, often re- quires as much skill as the art of rightly placing the lead at that stage of the game. ‘When you have to discard to the first suit led, that suit being plam, and no in- dication baving been given of trump strength anywhere, your course is simple. if the plain suit is your partner’s, you dis- card from your shortest suit, unless in so | doing you have to unguard a king or queen, when, unless you are very strong in trumps, it is better to discard from the suit whicn needs least protection; though, of course, you would unguard a king or | long and strong suit of your own. % 1f the suit (plain) which you first fail in is your adversary’s you equally discard from your shortest suit, in general; but to the exceptions just noted may be added, first, the case where you have to leave an ace single, and, second, the case of your shortest suit being a singleton. For when an adversary’s suit has been exhausted your weakest suit is likely to be your’| partner’s best, ana it may be a matter of great importance later to give him a lead in it. Butif your own suit is strong as well as long, and you are fairly strong in | trumps, you may more safely tincover an | ace or discard a singleton, for the close of | the hand is more likely to be under your | control than under your partner's. You | must weigh the chances, and take your | chance, just as you have to do when forced | to lead from a weak suit without knowl- | edge how vour partner stands in it. | ‘When trump strength has been declared either by the signal or by a lead before.the | occasion comes for a discard, or when you | have to discard to trumps, the general | rule is, discard from your weakest suit if | trump strength lies or appears to lie with | you and your partner; from your longest ! and best protected suit when trump i strength lies or appears to lie with the | adversaries. But so long as there is a| chance of bringing in yeur long suit you | should not discard from it. While doubt | remains as to the position of trump | strength avoid unguarding king or queen, | uncovering an ace, or discarding a single- ton; but when it is certain that vour part- ner bas commanding strength in trumps you need be less careful on these points, for there is little to fear but that your | partner will get the lead when he wants it. Albeit, cases sometimes arise where your long suit is worthless, and so much mani- fen?y depends on your giving your partner | a lead, or keeping xuar%ed a_strong card in his suit, that you must discard, even | originally, from your long suit. Common- | sense must guide you in such cases. Re- member, however, as a general rule for learners, that your original discard indi- ; cates your shortest suit if trump strength is not declared against you, your longest | suit if it is. Subsequent discards have no such significance. One of the most im- vortant points in whist training is to learn | to notice the original discard of each play- er as carefully as you should notice his lead. Until you do this you cannot prop- | erly be said to play whist at all. ANSWERS TO QUERIES, | The entire management of the Brooklyn ‘Whist Congress, which will be the great- | est gathering of whist-players the worid has ever seen, is in the hands of the League tournament committee, consisting of: Robert H. Weems, Brooklyn, chairman; Milton C. Work, Philadelphia; John T. Mitohell, Chicago; E. T. Baker, Brooklyn; E. Le_Roy Smith, Albany, and P. J. Tor- mey, San Francisco. % ‘We are asked this question: “When is a layer justitied in cnfli;:g for trumps?” Bur answer, in as few words as possible, is: ‘Whenever you are strong enough in trumps and plain suits to ugto your part- ner, “‘Surrender yourentire hand to mine; I wili promise you something handsome on our score,”’ call then fearlessly. We will state that whist-players of the first rank seldom call. v ‘What is the correct lead, holding king, queen and two small trumps, partner hav- ing signaled? Our tabie published May 3 gives you the information, but to settle the dispute, the queen should be led, followed with king, mazks four trumps in the hand at least. In answer to the question, *‘Is it custom- ary to declare one suit tromps for the whole evening ?"” we will say, no. ‘The rule -dogted by the American Whist League and which governs the play of all league clubs reads as follow: The trump card must be recorded before the play begins on a slip provided for that pur- pose. When the deal has been played the slip on which the trump has been recorded must be placed by the dealer on the top of his cards, but the trump card must not be again turned until the hands are taken up for the purpose of overplaying them, at which time it must be turned and lefs face upward on the table until it is the dealer’s turn 10 play to the first trick. The slip on which the trump card is recorded must be turned face downward as soon as the trump card is taken up by the dealer. WHISTLETS, The open(ng'eoutent at the Brooklyn Congress will be a match between the aux- iliary associations Monday afterncon and evening, June 22. Brookiyn gives a_tro- phy to the winner of this contest, which will be hereafter subject to challenge. The only associations that will be able to comr'u in this matter will be the New England, New Jersev and Indiana. The New York Whist Club, a_club re- cently organized in the city of New York and just admitted to the American Whist League, is going to send a “short suit team’’ to the Brooklyn congress to cap- ture the Hamilton tiophy. The American Whist Club of Boston tried that same thing last year at Minneapolis, and they came pretty near staying in one whole ceived in many a day is_the comment of Mrs. F. H. Atwater of Petaluma on the outlines of E. C. Howell’s new book now in press. In a letter to our Whist Editor she says: Ever since we received the April number of Whist I have been wondering how they play “short_suit system,” so you may know how pleased I was 1o receive the advanced sheets of this new book you so kindly sent me. I hardly know what to make of it. ;‘here are certainly some good points in it and it looks reasonable that every hand should not be *run through the same mill” as Foster says. Idon’t think Ishould like to be obliged to follow Mr. How- ell’s system exclusively either. I wonder why he seems to think that he is always to have op- ponents that cannot understand his style, and always a partger that knows all his leads. all four at the table should play the same wa; I wonder then who would be fooled the most' Foster always writes the same way, always tell- ing the partner the truth and at the same time misleading the opponents. Such books stir Pwph up and set them to thinking, so there s something gained any way. To one like me who oaly knows the A B C, "ete., of the it looks very much like & whist wind. ment: “‘A one.”—Whist Ed.] John T. Mitchell bas a new edition of his book on “Duplicate Whist”’ in _the press of Inling Bros. & Everard of Kala- mazoo. This will be a very interesting work for ail lovers af Duplicate Whist and the game generally. E % The Evening Telegraph of Philadelphia says: The whist editor of the St. Louis Globe-Demo- crat is said to be a “Jap.” We cannot youch for the accuracy of this statement, but can for the ability witn which he manages his depart- ment. San Francisco was once the home of the Globe whisg editor. St. Louis must have a b;d effect on him to transform him inte a “Jap.’ The Vallejo Whist Club is about to challenge again for the Rideout trophy. That’s right, boys; it keeps up the inter- est in the game we all love. Miss Rosella Trist, daughter of Nicholas Browse Trist, father of the American whist leads, is one of the most successful whist teachers in this country. Her home is in New Orleans. There was a lull in the very earnest con- versation of the whist game, when one of the players said: l}’\'hlst isa game inported from India, isn’t ame, Com- How did you get that idea? From the rubbers. India-rubber, you know. Town Topics. The Union Lengua Club of Philadelphia comes into the whist fold. The following is from the Evening Telegraph of May 8: The victory of the card-players at the Union League last night {s a great triumph for whist. For_years unsuccessful atlempts have been made with more or less earnestness to intro- duce cards in this most conservative organiza- tion, but the efforts have always been futile, owing to the fear of many members that cards and gambling would prove inseparable. The whist boom, however, has shown to al minded people that this fear was groundless, and this combined with whist’s popularity caused the tremendous snift of sentiment evi- denced by last night's meeting. table whist triumph. The great objection to ever allowing It was a veri- | caras to be introduced in this club was the fear that whist might be played for money, and if such a thing ever did happen it would injure the high patriotic and National character the club has always enjoyed. From a letter from one of our whist | readers we quote the following: We always have a wild scramble for THE CALL every Sunday morning, 1l on account of your whist column. Everything stops until thatisread. We do enjoy it hugely. Petaluma has a whist club and the Trist Duplicate Whist Club of this City is pan- fully aware of it, having lost two matches to them. Butit is not to be wordered at that Petaluma can play a good game of whist when they have such a brlliant little whisv enthusiast as Mrs. F. H. Atwater. One of her letters to Whist about two yvears ago cansed a great deal of discussion among the giants of the game, and the end is not yet. We have stated several times that our Whist Column was for students. The fol- lowing table of questions was kindly fur- nished us by Mrs. F. H. Atwater for be- ginners, and to encourage them in their study we will give one year's subscription to Whist for the best answers: 1 s—What would you lead in suit holding K b—What gr;u&g you lead in trumps holding KqQ 2 a—Whatwould you playsecond hand hold- ing A K 10 5 on the 8 led? b—What would you play second nand hold- ing K J 10 2 0n the 4 led? a—What would you play second hand hold- g 2 J 4 3on the 6 led? at would you play second hand hold- ug J 10 4 on the 6 red? 4 a—What would you play third hand hold- ng 109 8 6 on the Q led by partner? b—What would you play third hand hold- ing K J 42 on the 10 led by partner? 5 a—What would you play third hand hold- ing A 6 on the J led by the partner? b\t would you play third hand hold- ing A 6 on the Q led by partner? 6 a—What would you play third hand hold- ing in trumps A K 6 3 on 4 led by part- ner and what would you return? b—What would you play third hand hold- ing In trumps A10 5 on 3 led by part- ner and what would you return? 7 a—What would you play third hand hold- ing in suit Q 10 43 on 8 led by partner? b—What would you play third hand hold- inginsuitQ10 4 3 on 7 led by partner? 8 a—Name two ways oi knowing that your Eanner is weak in trumps. 9 a—Name two times when you return your pertner’s suit with the best your hand contains. 10 a—When would you discard from your strongest suit? b—When would you discard from you weakest sait? 11 a—What would you lead if your partner signaled for trumps and you held Kk Q 5 4 of trumps? X b—What would you leadsif vour partner signaled for trumps and you held Q 4 3 trumps 12 a—If partner led A then 9 of suit what ought he to have remaining? b—If partner led J what ought he to have remaining? What do you consider the most impor- tant principle of whist? Out of the 26 answers we have received 80 farto problem 6 only one is correct. Every one takes six tricks their way, but 13 | they can all be stopped. At acompass whist match in the Trist Club rooms the other evening the deal given below had a variation of five tricks. North and South at one table made thir- teen tricks. Was it good play or fuck? The play was as follows: West opened with ?ueen hearts, trumped by South, who led ace spades, then ace clubs (trumps) followed by the 3. North, ex- hausted of trumps, returns spades, ana South takes every remaining trick. At the other tables the opening was the same, South trumping; then uth led ace spades, following with _king, which West trumped, East and West making four and five tricks. —A, 3,2 D.—A, 5,2 2 clubs trumps. West to lead. The ear of the Caucasian race is of mod- erate size, well formed, and neither closely adherent to the head nor projecting. NEW TO-DAY, . From U.S.Journal of Medicine R v 8] o Epilepsy, has wit‘m& doubt treated and cur- ed more cases than an living Physiciaa; hi success is astonishing. ‘We have heard of cases ©Of 20 years' standing cured by : bot- im. He ge cure, to any sufferers work on this dis- ease, which he sends with a tle of his absolute day—out of the five, ne of Jthe brightest things we have re LWQ advise an blish, Valuabie free may send their P. O. and Express address. one wkhiwn to add: F.D., 4 Cedar St Rew Yarh who ¥rot, W. .