The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, May 16, 1897, Page 17

" SAN FRANCISCO, SUNDAY MORNING, MAY 16, 1897. AS A LITTLE SAW CELEBRITIES. The writer of the following sketch was a little girl when| Walt Whitman, Charlotte Cus Douglas, Artemus Ward, Fred Douglass, Anna Dickinson, | John Burroughs and J. T. Trowbridge were in their prime. | She met all of them and formed impressions of them through | childish eyes which still abide with her, and which she herein | sets to paper with a lingering, people were visitors to the home of her mother, Elizabeth | Akers Allen, who was not the s 1 was a very fortunate swere for tie most t p aces, and my sur- sociations were such that ery of my mind is hung with templation of which isa As my mother, Mrs. lien, whose world-fam- | Sleep, Mother,” is perhaps known though it 1s by no means of her many beautiful poems, was Iy engaged in literary work from bood, the friends even of my in- were all persons who were notable terary or ariistic lines. all these the one whose memory is the dearest is the gifted young sculptor b all New England was and is so proud—Paul Akers—whose *Dead Pearl-Fisher” is a lasting monument to his genius. was my privilege to live under the me roof with th s most lovable of men for one brief year, and although every mo- ment of that year which he knew 0 be his last on earth must have been to him lof suffering, botn mental and physi- my whole remembrance of bim is full always gentie and patient with | | her bonnet-strings I slipped away, desir- | | ous of entering the carriage first. hman, Paul Akers, Stephen A. loving touch. Most of these| least of the famous company. | personages hefore he was made aware of | the eccentricity of his appearance. | It was during the 1. rst of this year that I met with an adventure, the memory of | which even yet causes me to smile, for it | was my first and undoubtedly my last ap- | pearance on the Presidential “stump.” | It was just before Lincoin’s election, and Douglas, Breckinridee and Bell were | also in the field as candidates. We were | | at the time stoppin:z in the principal | | hotel of Maine’s capital city, and one day, | for what reason I did not know, the estab- | lishment was filled to overflowing with a | sudden influx of strangers, and such was | | the consequent noise and confusion that | | the regular guests of the house were more | | than a little inconvenienced and annoyed thereby. After luncheon my mother and several other ladies decided to take a long drive to get away from the temporary discom- fort and, of course, I was to accompany | them. I was ready In advance of the others, aud while my mother was tying | Child- | like, I always preferred the main stairway | |to the retired ‘‘Ladies’ entrance,” and I scampered straight to it as soon as I| | escaped from under the maternal eye. s to me the huppiest 1! wor.d. xperience of this world’s stern 1 that life so full of me to an end, and while the rned for the artist whose | was only bezinning to be nown and appreciated, I wept for 1 man who had made for dering thing,” so much of i my childish pranks caused him e mort tion, but brought me e mildest of warnings not 10 “do‘ slighted 1n standing on & cricket be- when he was 1reading and | hair, and one day the fancy | 0 braid it in a number of small ids, tying the ends with various ht colored ribbons. I had just 18 operation when Mr. Akers, rio entirely absorbed in his book, recollected that he was very nearly late for an important engagement, and, catch- up bis hat, hurried away. When he came home again he brought | me the pleces of ribbon carefully folded in his pocket, but not a word of reproof, | though I afterward heard thathe wore | his singular coiffure, with its flaunting sdornments, all the way downtown and | into the presence of some very stately | To my surprise, after I had descended a few steps, I saw thatthe place below was | simply packed with people, and that they werc all apparently gazing with embar- rassing interest at my small self, | Isoon realized, however, that it was a short, heavily built man who stood a little | below me, talking very loudly and earn-| estly, who was the center of attraction and not myself; but as I knew nothing of | politics or politicians I comprehended | nothing of what was going on. | 1did comprehend though that I could | not make my way through that mass of | people, and I turned to go back when the speaker caught sight of me. In an instant I was raised on high in a pair of strcng arms, and in full sight of the assembled multitude was kissed sev- eral times 1n the most effusive and af-| fectionate manner, while roar after roar | of applause rose from the admiring crowd. | It was the "Little Giant,” Stephen A. | Douglas, himself who held me, althougn I was ignorant of the fact until after I had been captured by my rightful guardian and sternly reproved for interrupting that gentlemau in the midst of one of his famous speeches. I think, however, that | Mr. Douglas rather welcomed my advent since it gave him an opportunity to make a much-applauded ‘‘point” and show himself to his audience in a very pleas- ant light. During that same year I raet many per- sons of distinction of whom I have most pleasant memories, but from among them all one face stands out clearly—that of the young sculptor’s firm friend and warm admirer, Charlotte Cushman. 1stood muchin awe of her at first, for she wasa large, masterful woman, who came and went with a great rustling of skirts, and she had a firm, decided way of talking, and a sharp way of looking at people, which was to a shy child such as I was exceedingly discomposing. She had a large, wide face, with a full forehead and a prominent chin and a small nose, and I privately thought her very ugly until she swooped down on me one day and lifting me toa in her capacious lap set herself to the easy task of winning a share of my heart. Older persons than I have felt and | yielded to the marvelous power of fasci: tion which ‘Miss Cushman possessed, in spite’ of her lack of beauty, and it goes without saying that [ quickly fell a vic- tim to her wiles, and thought her one of the most wonderful of women ever after. After the death of Mr. Akers I was for some time domiciled with a lady resident of Portland, Maine, whose acquaintance with notable people was wide. In her pleasant and hospitable home Artemus Ward (Charles F. Brown) was a frequent and welcome guest, and many a delight- ful romp did 1 have with him, although he gravely assured me that he *‘didn’t like children,” and that my claim on his | attention and consideration lay in the fact that I was “the oldest person for my age and the smallest person for my size” | that he ever met. One thing about the humorist always troubled me in those days, and that was that his extremely long and thin nose had a decided leaning to one side. When he became aware of my absorbing—but carefully repressed—interest in the mat- ter, he told me several tales to account for the i ncrasy of this prominent feature of his pleasant though unhand- some face. Asall these stories were strik- ingly dissimilar, however, and never by any accident gave the same reason for the departure of his nasal organ from the path of rectitude, I derived little real sat- isfaction from his humorous and elaborate | explanations. In this house, also, I met many mem- bers of the once notable- “Hutchinson Family,” which even then had passed the meridian of popularity, the “Tribe of Asa” being the only representatives in the | | concert field. Abby Hutchinson (Mrs. Patton) was a pretty, soft-voiced woman with a charm- | ing manner and a smile that won her friends everywhere. Asa, with his big beard and deep voice, and “‘Mrs, Asa,” his plump and sweet- tempered wife, were always pleasant to me, and I greatly enjoved playing with the children, especially with *‘little Den- nett,” who was very bright and winning, though somewhat spoiled and childishly domineering in his ways. I well remember my happiness when 1 was once allowed to go behind the scenes with the “‘tribe”” at one of their concerts, and listen to their singing from the dress- ing-room instead of sifting tamely and prosaically in the aundience. Indeed, J was s0 excited and happy on this occasion that I gotin everybody's way and both- ered the singers to such an extent that I was never ailowed the privilege a second time, but that once was enough to make me a heroine in the eyes of my little play- mates for weeks. Here in Portland I first saw J. T. Trow- bridge, who because of the pen name Paul Creyton, under which he began his fortu- nate literary career, was known to his especial friends as ‘*‘Paul.”” Mr. Trow- bridge seemed to me a grave, quiet sort of a man, and I regarded him from a dis- tance with silent admiration. On one occasion 1 did summon up cour- age enough to tell him that I had read his “Martin Merrivale’’ and liked it very much, and I was overwhelmed with bash- ful joy when he courteously thanked me for ‘my zood opinion and expressed the hope that he would, before he died, write many books far more worthy of my praise. Frea Douglass was also a visitor to this hospitable mansion, but althougn- he, being extremely fond of children, tried to make a pet of me, L was always shy of him. His dark, strongly marked face and bushy, “kinky” hair made me a trifle afraid of him, and I avoided him as much as possiple at all times. I was, however, consumed by a burning curiosity as to the manner in which he managed to keep his luxuriant, but to me most unpleasing, chevelure in order, since I was quite positive that no comb could by any possibility penetrate s woolly depths; and 1 covered myself with disgrace and the household with con- fusion by asking him about the matter one time when he had conquered my prejudices and timidity sufficiently to persuade me to sit upon his knee for a few moments. Karl Formes, the famous basso, I met during this same happy time, and his wonderful voice and leonine personality made a singularly deep impression upon me. I well remember how at the close of one of his concerts, which I had been allowed to attend under-the escort of a maid, I managed to slip away from the long-suffering young woman and find my way to the singer’s dressing-room, where, quivering and speechless, quite choked by sverwhelming emotions, I was welcomed by him with truly fatherly kindness. His artistic soul comprebended the tu- multin my childish breast and its cause, and he did not torture me with question or comment. He simply took me up in his strong arms and soothed and com- forted me, as only one of his deep and tender nature could do, and then restored me to my much-perturbed guardian, mak- ing me supremely happy by a kiss at parting. Years after, shortly before his death, T met the grand old singer in San Fran- cisco and recalled to his mind the little | incident, thus earning for myself an in- stant and glad recognition and welcome, which form one of my happiest memories. | made in the histrionic line, though pain- ful to herself and her many friends, was not at all surprising. 2 While I wasstill in my short dresses the powers that governed my young life transrorted me to our National capital, where I saw many of the foremost mili- tary heroes and politicians of the time. Having 'been a ‘*'bookish” child from babyhood, and reared in an essentiallv bookish atmosphere, I was, however, far more interested in literary celebrities. Among the notable persons with whom I was on terms of delightful ‘friendship were John Burroughs, the 'eminent ornithologist and writer, and his unusual- ly pretty young wife, and John James Piatt, the poet, and his “twin soul,” Mrs. 8. M. B. Piatt, whose tender, fanciful and always charming poems are so weli known, Here, too, I saw Jane Grey Swisshelm, a woman of considerable notein those da; She was a somewnat eccentric person, with a rather small head and a prom- inent nose, a nervous, unreposeful nature and a two-edged tongue, which made her feared by such of her associates as fall—a frequent occurrence—under the ban of her displeasure. In Washington I also saw "“Fanny Fern’’ (Mrs. James Parton), whom I had learned to love through reading her “Fern Leaves,”” in which her warm mother heart spoke & welcome to all children. I was a litile disappointed at first sight of her, for I had imagined her 10 be as lovely in person as she was in disposition, and her face was undeniably plain. She had, however, extremely beau- tiful hair, full of the prettiest crinkles and ripples imaginable, and her manner was most charming—ingenuous, unaf- fected and amiable—and her love for children was a predominant trait in a most truly sweet and womanly nature. Of ali whom I knew and admiied in the Capital City, however, the one who at- tracted me the most strongly and whose memory is by me the most warmly cher- ished was Walt Whitman—*‘the good gray poet’—whom, with his strong, dominant ways, his flowing hair and beard, his eccentric garb, his sonorour voice and his wonderful powers of conversation, I almost worshiped. The genuineness of the man—his out- spoken hatred of all manner of cant and hypocrisy and sham—the broadness of his views and the spirit of truth that wasin him and lookea forth from his earnest, keen, yet kindly eyes and speke by means of his sturdily brave and honest tongue, all impressed me forcibly, although I was too young to realize then where his wonderful attraction lay. He used to put his iarge hand on my slender shoulder and look at me, gravely Anna Dickinson, also, I saw in this | smiling, as he asked me questions about same New England city when she was a | my reading and my studies, my likes and very attractive, dark-haired, self-reliant | dislikes, and possessed himself of my young woman With an earnest manner | sma!l opinions concerning weighty mat- and “something to say,” which she said well. She was extremely popular in those days, and her wonderful personal magnet- ism gave hera command over her audi- ences which was something almost in- credible to those who were never brought under the influence of her peculiar gift. She seemed to take an especial fancy to me, and was greatly pleased with my avowed determination to *“‘be s lecturer, too,”” when I grew up, In after years I saw her during her ill- advised and brief theatrical career, but the fascination which was hersas a lec- turer was almost entirely lacking in her asan actress, and the failure that she ters. He must have found much amuse- ment in my answers, but he never laughed at me openly, as he was too true and noble a man to be careless of the feslings of a child. Indeed, through all his long and wor- thily spent life, “the good gray poet” was always tenderly considerate of those who were in any way weaker than bimself, and though he might, and did, ride rough-shod over prejudices, theories and beliefs which did not accord with his own, he was always broadly generous to the mistaken soul who advo- cated them, FrorENCE PERCY MATHESON. CONSTRUCTION OF TALL BUILDINGS Many articles have been written about the appearance and the composition of tall buildings, but it is not recalled that any hitherto have been written to describe how the construct- ing was done. Many of us have gazed in awe at one of the lofty structures rising away into the sky, and have vaguely wondered how so marvelous a thing could have been gotten together and raised so high. Itis the purpose of this article to set forth clearly how, and not why or where or when, these tall buildings are made, to which novel extent it may interest. ‘With the cheavening in the cost of steel the limitations of the architect disap- peared and the practicability of the erec- tion of a structure of twenty or more stories was established. Really, however, the difficult part of the work is done in the offices of the architect or engineer. The calculations and details are intricate to the last degree. All contingencies have to be provided for before a spade of earth is removed. The stability and strength of the build- 1ng depend entirely upon the foundation. In New York the difficulty of securing an absolutely safe foundation has been very great. The Manhattan building rests on a foundation carried fifty-seven feet below the surface, and the Washington seventy- five feet. The task of sinking them down to the solid rock was extremely difficult. In some instances as much time was spent below ground as in the prosecution of all the work that was done above. In San Francisco no difficully has ever attended the laying of foundations for auy of our high buildings. In the lower portions of the City the sandy formati abounds to a great depth and the arc tect asks for nothing better upon which to erect the most massive structure. Take the lofty structure that has gone upon Market and Third streets during the past year. Firstcame the excavation, which was made twenty-five feet below the pavement and extended twenty-five feet beyond the outside walls. Upon the floor of this great cavern concrete to the depth of two feet was spread. Upon this bed of concrete steel beams were laid eighteen inches apart and concrete packed in between. This soon became solid and hard as rock. Thirty iron columns, girded together so as to form practically one from top to bottom support the surer- structure. The base of each column rests upon castiron bedplates, which, in turn, are supported by steel beams laid at righ: angles to each other and built up 1n con- crate, as is the rest of the foundation. The columns weigh about twenty tons each, and are handled easily by the steam derricks, controlled by experienced rig- gers. . The foundations completed, the work on the superstructure rapidly proceeded. The beams and uprights of each floor were connected by steel braces, all riveted to- gether, the riveters working in connection with the riggers and frame-settersas stary succeeded story. A traveliLg crane facilitated the work, and the nandling of the steel beams was comparatively easy. At each corner of the building a derrick, controlled by steam engines, drew the steel frames from below and passed them to the crane above, to be set in their proper places, Perhaps half a dozen floors of the build« | ing were completed by the frame-setters | before the brick and stone masons began their work. When these workmen reached the fourth or fifth floor the pipelayers and pilumters began getting the large steam, sewer and water pipes in place, and fol« lowing after them came the mason setting the fireproof partitions between the and subsequently apresred the | et ans, who string the wires for the | telephones from story to story, the cone | duits of which are sunk into the partitions | and covered with concrete, so as to be in- | visible. In this massive building there are over three miles of gas, water, vent, waste and steam pipes, and fully twenty miles of electric wires, Before all the subordinate tradesmen began their work the painter appeared, The chief enemy to the high building, and the source of all subsequent danger, is corrosion or rust. Kvery particle of | steel therefore was covered first with & coating of linseed oil and afterward with a preparation of red lead. This was done at the rolling-mills, and again when the | steel beams were in piace in the building, | As the structure approaches completion all of the steel frame is imbedded in con« crete, and is thus proctically sufe from the atrack of dampness. The work of the mason in filling in the partitions and setting the concrete floors | precedes the carpenters, who lay the | hardwood floors, set the window-casings | and hang the doors. Incomparison with | the other tradesmen the carpenter has but little to do. The amount of wood ems= ployed is every small. Then the building is in the hands of the decorators and finishers, and when they have done their part the great struc- ture is ready for the tenant. A most important factor to be conside ered by the architect in planning these | great structures is the effect of vibration | caused by the pressure of wind upon the exposed area of the walls. The four sides of THE CALL building comprise 87,000 square feet of surface. With the wind biowing at only forty miles an hour the | pressure up to the twelfth floor is thirty pounds to the square foot, and-above that elevation it is fiity pounds. The wind, if blowing at that velocity, exerts a force equal to 225,000 pounds pressure on one of the four sides. Yet the vibration even at the lantern on the top is not perceps tible. i & pu2 7 259 RSN i/\ M/% AY /il third is THE CALL Building in this City, partially completed, showing how the framework is built on to by the masons ; the second is the Manhattan Building in New York, and the first is the tallest of all office buildings, which is going up in Nevg York. Therg are but two taller business structures than THE CALL building in the world, the two shown first in the above cut. No other newspaper home is nearly so tall. 1