The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 1, 1896, Page 18

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 1896. 4 s *'It is a terrible sight!” she exclaimed, as we left the menagerie of Monsieur Martin. She had just been witnessing this daring showman “performing” in the cage of his hyena. “‘By what means,” she went on, ‘‘can he have so tamed these animals as {o be secure of their affection?” **What seems to you a problem,” I responded, interrupting her, “is in reality a fact of nature.” “Oh!" she exclaimed, with an incredulous smile. *You think, then, that animals are devoid of passions?” I asked her. “You must know that we can teach them all the qualities of civilized existence.” & She looked at me with an astonished ai “But,” I went on, “when I first saw Monsieur Martin I confess that, like yourself, I uttered an exclamation of surprise. I happened to be standing by the side of an old soldier, whose right leg had heen ampu- tated, and who had come in with me. I was struck by his appearance. His was one of those intrepid heads, stamped with the seal of war, upon whose brows are writtén the battles of Napoleon. About this old soldier was a certain air of frankness and gayety which always gaing my favor., He was, doubtless, one o: those old troopers whom nothing catksurprise: who fina food for laughter in the dying spasms of acomrade, who gayly bury and despoil him, who challenge bullets with indifference—though their argu- ments are short enougb—and who would hob-nob with thedevil. After keenly looking at the showman as he was coming from the cage my neigh- hor pursed his lips with that significant expression of contempt which su- perior men assume to show their difference from the dupes. At my ex- clamation of surprise at Monsieur Martin’s courage he smiled, and, nod- ding with a knowing air, remarked, ‘I understand all that.’ “‘How?' 1answered. ‘'If you can explain this mystery to me you will oblige me greatly.” “In a few moments we had struck up an acquaintance, and went to dine at tbe first restaurant at hand. Atdesserta bottle of champagne completely cleared the memory of this strange old soldier. He toid his story, and I saw he was right when he exclaimed, ‘I understand all that.™ When we got home she teased me so, and yet so prettily, that I con- sented to write out for her the soldier’s reminiscences. The next day ste received this episode, from an epic that might be called “The French in Egypt.” During the expediticn undertaken in Upper Egypt by General Desaix, a Provencal soldier, who had fallen into the hands of the Masugrabins, was taken by these Arabs into the desert beyond the cataracts of the Nile. In order to put between them and the French army a distance to assure their safety the Maugrabins made a forced march and did not halt until night. They then camped by the side of a well, surrounded by a clump-of palm trees, where they had before buried some provisions. Never dreaming that their prisoner would think of flight, they merely bound his bands, and all of them, after eating a few dates and giving barley to their horses, went to sleep. When the bold Provencal saw his enemies incapable of watching him, he picked up 2 scimitar with his teeth, and then, with the blade fixed between bis knees, cut the cords that Jashed bis wrists and found himseif at liberty. He at once seized a carbine and a dagger; provided himseli with some dry dates and a small bag of barley, powder and balls; girded on the scimitar, sprang on a horse and pressed forward in the direction where Le fancied the French army must be found. Impatient to regain the bivouac, he so ureed the weary horse that the poor beast fell dead, its sides torn with the spurs, leaving the Frenchman alone in the midst of the desert. After wandering for some time amid the sand with the desperate courage of an escaping convict, the soldier was forced to stop. Night was ciosing in. Despite the beauty of the Eastern night, he had not streugth sufficient 10 go on. Fortunately he had reached a heigh: on the top of which were palm trees, whose leaves, for some time visible far off, had awakened in his bearta hope of safety. He wasso weary that he lay down on & granite stone, oddly shaped like a camp-bed, and went to sleep, with- out taking the precaution to protect himself in his slumber. He haa sacrificed his life, and his last thought was a reeret for having left the Maugrabins, whose wandering life began to please him, now thzt he was far from them and from all hope of succor. vat He was awakened by the sun, whose pitiless rays falling vertically upon the granite made it intolerably bot. For the Provencal had been so carelese as to cast himself upon the ground in the direction opposite to that on which the green majestic paimtops threw their shadow. He looked at these solitary trees and shuddered. They reminded him of the graceful shafts surmounted by long foils that distinguish the Ssracenic columns of the Cathedral of Arles. He counted the few palms; then looked about him. A terrivle despair seized upon his soul. He saw a boundiess ocean. Tue melancholy sands spread round him, glittering like a blade of steel in a bright light, as far as eye could see. He knew not whether he was gazing on an ocean or a chain of lakes as lustrous as a mirror. A fiery mist shimmered in little ripples above the tremulouns landscape. The sky possessed an onental blaze, tbe brilliancy which brin gs despair, seeing that it leaves the imagination nothing to desire. Heaven and earth alike were ali aflame. The silence was terrible in its wild and awful majesty. Iufinity, immensity, oppressed the soul on all sides; not a cloud was in the sky, not a breath was in the air, not 8 movement on the bosom of the sand, which undulated into tiny waves. Far away the horizon was marked off, as on a summer day at sea, by a line of light as bright and narrow as a saber’s edge. - The Provencal clasped his arms about a palm tree as if it had been the body of a friend. Then, sheltered by the straight and meager shadow, he sat down weeping on the granite, and Jooking with deep aread upon the lonely scene spread out before bis eyes. - He cried aloud as if to tempt the solitude. His voice, lost in the holiows of ihe height, gave forth far-off a feeble sound that woke no echo; the echo was within his heart! The Provencal was 22 years old. He loaded his carbine. “Time enough for that!” he muttered to himsell, placing the weapon of deliverance on the ground. Looking by turns at the melancholy waste of sand and at the bine expanse of sky, the soldier dreamed of France. With delight be fancied ihat he smelt the Paris gutters, and recalled the towns turough which he had passed, the faces of his comrades, and the slightest incidents of his life. Then his Southern imagination made him fancy, in the play of beat quivering above the plain, the pebbles of his own dear Provence. But tearing all the dangers of this cruel mirage, he went down in the direction opposite to that which be had taken when Re had climbed the biil the night before. Great was his joy on discovering a kind of grotto, naturally cut out of the enormous fragments of the granite that formed the bottor of the hill. The remnants of a mat showed that this retreat had once been inhabited. Then, a few steps further, he saw paim trees with a load of dates. Again the instinct which attaches man to life awoke within his heart. He now hoped to live until the passing of some Maugrabin; or per- haps be would soon hear the boom of cannon, for at that time Bonaparte ‘was overrunning Egvpt. Revived by this r-flsction, the Frenchman cat down a few bunches of ripe fruit, beneath whose weight the date trees seemed to bend, and felt sure, on tasting this unhoped-for manna, that the inhabitant of this grotto had cultivated the palm trees. The fresh and luscious substance of the date bore witness to his predecessor’s care. The Provencal passed suddenly from dark despair to well-nigh insane delight. Heclimbed the hill again, and spent the remainder of the day iu cutting down & barren palm tree which the night befors had served bim for shelter. A vague remembrance made him think of the wild beasts; and, fore seeing that they might come to seek the spring which bubbled through ty. sand among the rocks, he resoived o secure himself against their visits by placing @ barrier at the door of his hermitage. In spite of his exertions, in spite of the strength with which the fear of being eaten . during sleep endured him, it was impossible for him to cut the palm to pieces in one day; but he contrived to bring it down. When, toward evening, the monarch of the drsert fell the thunder of its crash resounded far, as if the mighty solitude had given forth a moan. The soldier shud- dered as if he had heard a voice that prophesied misfortune. But like an heir who does not long bewail the death of a relation, he stripped the tree of the broad, long, green leaves, and used them to repair the maton which he was about to lie. At length, wearied by the heat and by his labors, he fell asleep beneath the red roof of his murky grotto. In the middle of the night he was disturbed by a strange noise. He sat up; iu the profound silence he could hear a creature breathine—a savage respiration which resembled nothing buman. Terror, intensified by darkness, silence, and the fancies of one suddenly awakened, froze his blood. He felt the sharp contraction of his scalp when, as the pupils of his eyes dilated, he saw in the shadow two faint and yellow lights. Ac first, be thought these lights were some reflection of his eyebalis, but soon, the clear brightness of the night'helping him to distinguish objects in the grotto, he saw, lying at two paces irom him, an enormous beast! Was it a lion?—a tiger?—a crocodile?” The Provencal was not suf- divide a panther’s yellow back. The beast put up her tail with pleasure; her eyes grew softer; and when, for the third time, the Frenchman ac- complished this self-interested piece of flattery, she broke into & purring like a cat. But this purr proceeded from a throat so deep and powerful that it re-echoed through tbe grotto like the peals of a cathedral organ. The Provencal, realizing the success of his caresses, redoubled them, until the imperious beauty was completely soothed and lulled. ‘When he felt sure that he had perfectly subdued the ferocity of his capricious companion, whose hunger had been satisfied so cruelly the night before, he got up to leave the grotto. The panther let him go, but when he had climbed the hill she came bounding after him with the lightness of a sparrow hopping from branch to branch, and rubbed herself against the soldier’s leg, arching her back after the fashion of a cat. Then looking at her guest with eyes whose brightness had grown less inflexible she uttered that savage cry which naturalists have compared to the sound of a saw. “What an exacting beauty!” cried the Frenchman, smiling. He set himself to- play with her ears, to caress her body and to scratch ber head hard with his nails. Then, growing bolder with success, he tickled her skull with the point of his dagger, watghing for the spot to strike her. But the hardness of the bones made him afraid of failing. The sultana of the desert approved the actior. of her slave by raising her head, stretching her neck and showing her delight by the quietness of her attitude. The Frenchman suddenly reflected that in order to assassinate this fierce princess with one blow he need only stab her in the neck. He had just raised his knife for the attempt when the pan- ther, with a graceful action, threw herself upon the ground before his feet, casting bim from time to time a look in which, in spite of its ferocity of nature, there was a gleam of tenderress. The poor Provencal, with his back against a palm tree, ate his dates, while he cast inquiring glances, now toward the desert for deliverers, now upon his terrible companion, to keep an eye upon her dubious clemency. Every time he threw away a date stone, the panther fixed her eyes upon the spot with inconceivable mistrust. She scrutinizec the Frenchman with a businesslike attention; but the examination seemed favorable, for when be finished his poor meal, she licked his boots, and with her rough, strong tongue removed the dust incrusted in their creases. ‘‘But when she becomes hungry ?'’ thought the Provencal. Despite the shudder thisidea caused him, the soldier began examining with curiosity the proportions of the panther, certainly one of the most beautiful specimens of her kind. She wasshree feet high and four feet long, without the tail. Tais powerful weapon, as round as a club, was nearly three feet long. The head—large as that of a lioness—was distin- guished by an expression of rare delicacy; true, the cold cruelty ot the tiger dominated, but there was also a resembiance to the features of a wily woman. Ina word, the countenance of the solitary queen wore at this moment an expression of fierce gayety, like that of Nero flushed with wine; she had quenched her thirst in blood, and now desired to play. The soidier tried to come and go, and the panther let him, content to follow him with her eyes, but less affer the manner of a faithful dog than of a great Angora cat, suspicious even of thé movements of its master. ‘When he turned round he saw beside the fountain the carcassof his horse; the panther had arageed the body all that distance. About two-thirds bad been devoured. This sight reassured the Frenchman. He was thus easily able to expiain the ebsence of the panther, and the respect which she had shown for him while he was sleeping. This first piece of luck emboldened him about the future. He con- ceived the mad idea of setting up a pleasant honsehold life, together with the panther, neglecting no means of pacifying her and of conciliat- ing her good graces. He returned to her, and saw, to his delight, that she movea her tail with an almost imperceptible motion. Then he sat down beside her without fear and began to play with her; ne grasped her paws, her muzzle, pulled her ears, threw herover on her back, and vigorously scratched her warm and silky sides. Shelethim have his way, and when the soldier tried to smooth the fur upon her paws she carefully drew in her claws, which had the curve of a Damascus blade. The Frenchman, who kept one band upon his dagger, was still thinking of plunging it into the body of the too-confiding panther; but he feared lest she shouid strangle him in her last convulsions. And besides, within nis heart there was a movement of remorse that warned him to respect an inoffensive creature. It seemed to him that he bad found a friend in this vast desert. Involuntarily he called to mind a HE GAVE A CRY OF TERROR. ficiently educated to know the species of his enemy, but his terror was all the greater, since his ignorance assisted his imagination. He bore the cruel torture of listening, of marking the caprices of this awful breathing, withont losing a sound of it or venturing to make the slightest move- ment. A smell as pungent as ajox’s, but more penetrating, filled the grotto, and when it entered his nostrils his terror passed all bounds; he could no longer doubt the presence of the terrible companion whose royal den was serving bim for bivouac. Presently the moon, now sinking, lighted up the den, and in the moon-rays graduaily shone out a panther's spotted skin. The lion of Egypt was sleeping, curled up like a great dog who is the peaceable possessor of a sumptuous kennel at & mansien door; its eyes, which had been opened for one moment, were now closed again. Itsface was turned toward the Frenchman. A t ousand troubled thoughts passed through the mind of the panther’s prisoner. At first he thouehr of shooting it; but there was not enough room between them to adjust bis gun; tbe barrel would have rezched beyond tbe animal. And what if be awoke it! This supposition made him miotioniess. Listening in the silence to tke beating of his heart, he cursed the loud pulsations, fearing to disturb the sleep that gave him time 10 seek some means of safety. Twice he placea his hand upon bis scimitar, with the intention of cutting off the head of his enemy; but the difficuity of cutiing through the short, strong fur compelled him to abandon the idea. To fail was certain death. He preferred the odds of conflict, and determined to await the daybreak. And dsylight was not long in coming. The Frenchman was able to examine the panther, Its muzzle was stained with blood. “It has eaten plenty,” he reflected, without conjecturing that the feast might have been composed of human flesh, “it will not be hungry when 1t wakes.” It was a female. The fur upon ber breasi and thighs shone with whiteness. A number of little spots like velvet looked like charming bracelets around her paws. The muscular tail was also white, but tipped with black rings. The upper part of her coat, yellow as old gold, but very soit and smooth, bore those characteristic marks, shaded into the form of roses, which serve to distinguish the panther from the other species of the genus Felis. This fearful visitor was snoring tranquilly in an attitude as graceful as that of a kitten lying on the cushions of an ottoman. Her sinewy, blood-stained paws, with powerful claws, were spread beyond her head, which rested on them, and from which stood out the thin, straight whisk-rs with a gleam like silver wires. 1f she had been imprisoned in a csge, the Provencal would assuredly have admired the creature’s grace, and the vivid contrasts of color that gave her garment an imperial luster; but at this moment he felt his sight grow dim at her sinister aspect. The presence of the vanther, even sleeping, made him experience the effect which the magnetic eyes of the serpent are said to exercise upon the nightingale. In the presence of thisdanger the courage of the soldier faltered, al- though without doubt it would have risen atthe cannon's mouth, A desperate thought, however, filled bis mind, and dried up at its source the cbilly meisture which was rolling down his forehead. Acting as men do who, driven to exiremities, at last defy their fate, and nerve themselves to meet their doom, he saw a tragedy in this adventure, and resoived 1 play bis part in it with honor to the last. “Two days ago,” he argued with himself, “the Arabs might have killed me.” Considering himsel! as good s dead, he waited bravely, yet with restless curiosity, for the awakening of his enemy. hone out the panther opened her eyes suddenly; then she spread out her paws forcibly, as if to stretch them and get rid of cramp. Then she yawned, showing an alarming set of teeth and an indented, rasp-like tongue. “‘She is iike a dainty lady!” thought the Frenchman, as he saw her rolling over with a gentle and coquettish movement. She licked off the blood that stained her paws and mouth, and rubbed her head with movements full.of charm. “That’s it] Just beautily yourself a littie!” the Frenchman said, his gayety returning with his courage. “Then we must say good-morning.” And be took up the short dagger of which be had relieved the Maun- grabins. At this moment the panther turned her head toward the Frenchman,* and looked at him: fixedly withoui advancing. The rigidity of fhoss metallic eyes And their insupportable brightness made the Proveneal shuader. The beast bezan to move toward him. He locked at her caress- ingly, and, fixing his eyes as if to magnetize her, he let her come close up to him; then, with a soft and gentle gesture, he passed his hand along Ber body, from head to tail, seratchingwith bis nails the fle. ible vertebra that woman whom he had once loved, whom he had sarcastically nick. named “Mignonne,” from her jeaiousy, which was so fierce that during the whole time of their acquaintance he went in fear that she would stab bim. This memory of his youth suggested the idea of calling the young panther by this name, whose lithe agility and grace he now ad- mired with less terror. Toward evening he had become so far accustomed to his perilous po- sition that he aimost liked the hazard of it. At last his companion bad got into the habit of looking at him when he called in a falsetto voice, “Mignonne."” At sundown Mignonne uyttered several times a deep and melan- choly ery. = *‘Sbe has been properly brought up,” thought the light-hearted soldier; “she says her prayers.” But it was, no doubt, her peaceful attitude which brought the jest into bis mind. “*All right, my little pet; I will let you get to sleep first,”” he said, rely- ing on his legs to zet aWay as soon as she was sleeping, and to seek some other shelter for the night, The soldier waited with patience for the hour of flight, and, when it came, set out full speed in the direction of the Nile. But he had only I'PLUNGED MY DAGGER INTO HER NECK. gone a quarter of a league across the sand when he heard the panther bounding after him, uttering at intervals that saw-like cry, more terrible even than the thudding of her leaps. “Well!” he #aid to himself, “she must have taken a fancy to me. Perhaps she bas never vet met any one. It isflattering to be her first love!” At this moment the Frenchman fell into a shifting quicksand, so dangerous to the traveler in the desert, escape from which is hopeless. He felt that he was sinking; he gave a cry of terror. The panther seized him by the collar with her teeth, and springing backward with stupen- dous vigor drew him from the gulf as if by magic. “Ah! Mignonne!” cried the soidier, enthusiastically caressing her, *we are friends now for life and death. But no tricks, eh?"’ and he re- traced his steps. Henceforth the desert was as though it had been peopled. It con- tained a being with whom he counid converse, and whose ferocity had been softened for him, without his being able to explain so strange a friendship. However great was his desire to keep awake and on his guard, he fell asleep. On swakening, Mignonne was no longer to be seen. He climbed thbe Lill and then perceived her afar off, coming along by leaps and bounds, according to the nature of these creatures, the extreme flexibiiity of whose vertebrz preveats their running. Mignonne came up, her jaws besmeared with blood. She received the caress of her companion with deep purrs of satisfaction. Her eyes, now full of softness, were turned with greater tenderness than the night before, to the Provencal, who spoke to her as to a pet. “Ah! Beauty! you are a respectable young woman, are you not? You like petting, don’t you? Are you not ashamed of yourself ? You have been eating a Maugrabin! Well! they’re animals, as you are. But aon’: you go and gobble up a Frenchman. If you do, Isball not love oul” i She played as a young pup vlays with its master, letting him roll her over, beat and pet her; and sometimes she would coax him to caress her with a movement of entreaty. A few days passed thus. This companionship revealed to the Proven- cal the sublime beauties of the desert. From the moment when he found within its hours of fear and yet of calm a sufficiency of food, and a living creature who absorbed his thoughts, his soul was stirred by new emotions. It was a life of contrasts. Solitude revealed to him her secrets, and in- volved him in her charm. He discovered in the rising and the setting of the sun a splendor hidden from the world of men. His frame quivered when he heard above his head the soft whirr of a bird’s wings—rare way- farer; or when he saw the clouds—those echan efal, many-colored voyagers—mingle in the depth of heaven. Inthe dead of night he studied the effects of the moon upon the sea of sand, which the simoon drove in ever-changing undulations. He lived with the Oriental day; he marvelea at 1ts pomp and glory; and often, after baving watched the grandeur of a tempest in the plain, in which the sands were whirled in dry red mists of deadly vapor, he beheld with ecstasy the comingon of night, for then there fell upon him the benignant coolness of the stars. He heard imag- inary music in the sky. Solitude taught him all ths‘blles of reverie. He spent whole hours in calling trifles to remembrance, in comparing bis past life with his strange present. To his panther he zrew passionately at- tached, for he required an object of affection. Whether by a strong effort of his will he had really changed the character of bis companion, or whether, thanks to the constant warfare of thedeserts, she found sufficient food, she showed no disposition to attack him, and at last, in her perfect tameness, he no longer felt the shghtest fear. He spent a great part of his time in sleeping, but ever, like a spider in his web, with mind alert, that he might not let deliverance escape him should any chance to pass within the sphere described by the horizon. He had sacrificed his shirt to make a flag, which he had hm:zud to the summit of a palm tree stripped of leaves. Taught by necessity, he had found the means to keep it spread by stretching it with sticks, lest the wind should fuil to wave it at the moment when the hoped-for traveler might be traveling the waste of sand. It was during the iong hours when hope abandoned him that he amused himself with his companion. He had learned to understand the different inflections of her voice and the expression of her glances; he had studied the varying changes of the spots that starred her robe of gold. Mignonne no longer growled even when he seized her by the tuft with which her ter- rible tail ended to count the black and white rings which adorned it, and which glittered in the sun like precious gems. It delighted him to watch the delicate soft lines of her snowy breast and graceful head. But above all when she was gamboling in her play be watched her with delight, for the agility, the youtnfulness of ail her movements, filled bim with an ever fresh surprise. He admired her sup- pleness in leaping, climbing, gliding, pressing close against him, swaying, rolling over, crouching for a bound. But however swift ner spring, how- ever slippery the block of granite, she would stop short, without motion, at the sound of the word “Mignonne!” One day, in the most dazzling sunshine, an enormous bird was hover- ing in the air. Tue Provencal left his panther to examine the new visitor, but after waiting for a moment the deserted sultana uttered a hoarse growl. “Blessed if I don’t believe that she is jealous!” he exclaimed, per- ceiving that her eyes were once more hard and rigid. “A woman’s soul has passed into her body, that is certain!” The eagle disappeared in air, while he admired afresh the rounded back and graceful outlines of the panther. She was as pretty asa woman. The blond fur blended in its delicate gradations into the dull white color of the thighs. The brilliant sunshine made this vivid gold, with spots of brown, take on a luster indescribable. The Provencal and the panther looked at one another understacdingly; the beauty of the desert quivered when she felt the nails of ber admirer on her skull. Her eyes gave forth a flash like lightning, and then she closed them hard. “She has a soul,” he cried, as he beheld the desert queen in her repose, golden as the sands, white as their blindiug luster, and like them, fiery and alone. **Well?” she said to me, "I have read your pleading on behalf of ani- mals. But what was.the end of these two persons so well made to, under- stand each other."” ; “Ah! They ended as all great passions énd—through a misunders standing. Each thinks the other gnilty of a falsity, each is too proad for explanation, and obstinacy brings about a rupture.’ “And sometimes in the happiest moments,’” she said, “a look, an ex- clamation, is enough! Well, what was the end of the story 7"’ “That is difficult to tell, but you will understand what the old fellow had confided to me, when, finishing his bottle of champagne, he exclaimed ‘Idon’t know how I hurt her, but she turned on me like mad, and with her sharp teeth seized my thigh. “The action was not savage; but fancying tbat she meant to kill me, T plung d my daggzer into her neck. She rolled over with a cry that froze my blood; sbe looked at me in her last struggles without anger. I would have given everything on earth, even my cross—which then I had not won—to bring ber back tolife. It wasasif I had slain a human being. And the soldiers who had seen my flag, and who were hastening to my succor, found me bathed in tears, A PLEA FROM THE HEART OF THE HOME A WOMAN'S ADDRESS TO THE VOTERS OF CALIFORNIA, The steady, unswerving march cf time is bringing to us the 3d of No- vember, when you will chronicle by your votes how far you have advanced as a Btate with the stream of progress that constantly flows on tkroughout all ages. Do not merit the scorn of the future generations by refusing to give the ballot to women! You now look back along the years of the past and smiie in derision at the time when women were not allowed to study by your side; and further back when it was considered unwomanly for women to study mathematics; and still further back when in a dignified council it was a sudject of debate to discover whetber women had souls and had any chance of ever going to heaven! You would scorn to be classed with those men, but will you not be numbered with them if vou fail to make the sixth amendment a law of the State? How small the vrejudices of childhood look to you when you stand on the eminence of manhood. The fact is there is no neight reached along any line of life or work that lifts us up above the narrow limits of a narrow life thrat doeg not show us peak after peak to climb before we can reach the point above the clouds which continually rests serene and lovely in the purest atmos. phere of eternal sunshine. ‘Will it unsex & women fo vote for candidates for office who will make laws that will restore prosperity to the country and so make it possibie for her to support berself and family % Will it unsex a woman to vote for the amendment that will remove the mortgage tax and so decrease the in- terest she pays? I can see no dividing line between work and making laws that govern the prosperity of lebor. 1f it will unsex s woman to vote one day in the year on these questions it surely will unsex her to work every day in the year, and for fear of this dreadful calamity befalling the Nation should not a law be passed prohibiting womea from working and compelling men 1o renew their efforisso that they can support all women without their being obliged to workMnd soendangertheir woman- hood? Some women say,“We don’t want the ballot given to women because it may bring dissension in some homes.”” It may bring more dissension in the bomes where the husband or wife now rules as s tyrant; but sheacld the ballot be withbeld from all women because the women in such homes will then haye tbe same right as such men? It would be just as absurd, for the same canse, to take the right of the ballot from all men. There bave been no great reforms in the history of the world that have not caused the sacrifice of some of the noblest men and women of the times. And 1t would be a glory to any nation that would sscrifice the least worthy of its citizens for the sake of giving justice to balf its peopie. Men of California, the women of this State who are the most active in the reforms stand before you, beseeching you to take from their arms the fetters that hol¢ them from making the moral influence of women a power in this State. Are you competent to act as jurors to decide this question? Have you listened to the evidence with unbissed minds? Have not many of you dozed in your chairs and not even heard the evi dence? Ot all the charges you have made to still exciude women from the rights of the ballot, there is but one that is true; every ouber charge has been proved false. Even your own hearts roust ory out *'not guilty,” for day alter day your lives echo those words from mountain top to ses, for the greatest treasures you have are your children, and you leave them in the keeping of the women in your homes and in the schools. The women of this State plead ‘‘guilty” to only one charge, “you are women.” ““Yes,” they say, *‘we are women and are guilty of this charge, and We muat be received as women in:o the ranks of voters; for womanhood 1s inherent in our nature and is a divine gift, and no giviog or withhold- ing of any man-made rights will ever change a womas's distinetive quali- ties.” The mothers turn their faces proudly toward beaven snd say, “Yes, guilty of being women, but, thank God, we have been deemed worthy to cradie in our arms many a loved son.” Listen to the charge of the Judge, the constitution of California: Ali men are by nature free and independent, and have eertain inalienable rights, among which are those of enjoying and defending life and liberiy and pursuing and obtaining safety and happiness. AlL political power is inherent in the people. Government is instituted for the protection, security and bemefit of tge people, and thev have the Tight o alter or reform the sdme whenever the publie good may require it Husband, brotber, son, put from your thoughts the din and strife &f the day and let the sweetest memories of your life cluster around you, and then decide if the women of Our country are not wortdy to be given the freedom of the baliot. If you will listen to the chimes these sweet memories will ring in your hearts, then the stars and stripes of our Nation will soon float over one more State in the Union where ali the people are {ree and equal. Mas. Hosues P. McKoox.