The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, June 13, 1897, Page 26

= CR— [ @ THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY JUNE 13, 189T7. In this workaday, practical, businessf City of San Francisco, there is at least one nook where daily, year in and year out, | sails are trimmed and barks set forth for the 1and of Romance. In the very shadow of the huge angel which surmounts the coppery dome of the City Hall, listening es 1y hear, at least in imagination, igris River, | d. the rippling waters of the and brichtened eyes watch the real schid—he of ever blessed memory—while from river banks enameled with flowers and gardens of story, vagrant breezes blow to expectant nostrils all the | odors of Bagdad. Not to make too much a mystery of it, these voyagers and spectators are to be | Haroun-al-R found daily in that part of the Free | Library, little known fo adults. which bears the name of the Juvenile Depart- ment. Enter the library through its swinging doors, turn to the right, climo one flight of stairs, turn to the left, and there 1< the realm of pure imagination. True it is that tuerein are hisiories, bio- graphies, travels, standing in prim rows, | forbidding in titles to the ardent juvenile | agination, so painfully clean and free from thumb marks and *‘dog-eared” leaves ss 10 successfully argue themselves un- | read | 1at on the floor sit children in knee breeches, convenient to alcoves, wherein | alleons of imagination placidly rest | anchor, waiting 1o be boarded; or at with books spread out before chartwise, their elbows supporting us curly heads, their foreheads cor- ated with thought or simulated horror; ps their bsows arched with admira- t tales of valor and daring—there tbe voyagers looking for the zolden fleece and finding it. had best on tiptoe tread, s ahead, atenchanted ground, or siumber round. | e sana, epherd Land; y hollyhocks, Ali Baba's rocks; e! Apartand high where I, W a d by ar santer’s spel man of wonder and de- 1t who wrote the immorial “Treasure nd.” To the brains of young chi'dren lories of story are so real that, as one € s the str juvenile part of the library, even though he should be the Governor, or the Mavor, or any one short f a celebrity to whom romance is at- i, he or she will be entirely unno- Leagues away are the minds of Some are standing, looking k after book, not in dilet- fushion, but with an air of serious These, equally with the infants 10 sit cross- the floor and those bend over t , are completely ab- | d. > centur al tale ness. d o bl | have elapsed since those Puss in Boo nde- | and the Beanstalk,” “Jack | | legends or what not, and he who first | rend by every boy who comes h | ture by some authors are in such demand | that we have to | sets. To boys all books are either ‘fine’ or | | book I ever saw.” | soon stop coming here. Ve the Giant Killer,”” “Blue Beard,” “Valen- | tine and Orson’” and their fellows first were published in a volume. In other centuries these stories were folklcre, compiled them acknowledged that they were hoary with age before he recognized them fully as being worlhy of perpetua- | tion. A reporter for THE UALL bad a desire to try the experiment of rereaaing in this | place and with these San Fr: co chil- | dren some of the oldtime child books. Now, there is a voiume eatitled ‘‘Fairy | Tales Retold,” which contains all the tales | previously mentioned and several more, them veine “Tne Three Bears,” | air Maid With Golden Locks,” | tow Dwarl.” “Whittington and Pretty Maruschka, ” “Sleeping B Riding Hood.” T lady who had charge of the department | did not express any surprise when the re- porter, who has some gray hairs, took this book and sat down to be a boy to see | bow it would seem. The real boys did not pay much attention, fur they con- tinued to be voyagers, hunters, trappers, travelers in fairy land or elsewhere and “losing their piace’ in a book was as bad aslosing their way would be in the “En- ctanted Land of the Bogies.” The laay who has charge of the depart- mentsaid: “Little girls will read bc books, but little boys will not read books. The boys here want somethin about Indians, or the sea, or battles, or something funny. ‘Tom Sawyer’ has beex among “Liitle Red , and they all knew about ‘Kebinson Crusoe’ be- fore ever I saw them. Stories of n- arry as many as fifteen tell me that the ‘the most splend Itis always ‘*splendid ‘ao gooa.’ Girls ofte book they had last wa if it is liked. *'0f course, this department of the li- brary is only for young childr Wkhen they get a little older they mus: find their books in other departments. Little boy come in here and read the juvenile books by the hour. They generally know what they want. Some boy bas told them that acertain book 1sgood. There is no reason that I can get at from them why a book is good or bad to thm. But their minds are made up, and when they get hold of some authors they will read the whole set throug *‘Oh, yes; grown people come here and express opinions abouf what children should read, and sometimes try 10 make their own children read books that they select for them. The experiment g turns out a failure. My is that if the children cannot read w they want to, the most of them w few little girls come in bere to =it and read, but B S, iere are a few who do tha people come, just as you Told by a Sister of the Famous Diplomat, at Present It will doubtless be a surprise to most of Tie CALL'S readers to learn that the fu- | vorite sister of Ansen Burlingame is spending tbe evening of herdays in the pleasant ement of a rose-embowered cottage in beautiful Alameia County. Anson Burlingame, although his re- able and most brilliant career was sht to a sudden and much-deplored while he was yet comparatively a ng man, left behind him a name which onored by all true Americ and a d in both public and private life of | t only those near and dear to him try to whose service he devoted his time and talents from earliest manhood, may well be proud. Anrson Buri a gifted orator and a successf an. He was en- dowed with qualities which made him foremost among the divlomats of his time; but better than all this is the fact that his unblemished and sincerely Chris- tian life made him an exemplification of | the best type of true manhood. Most of us are familiar with the main ncidents of his public life. His fiery | free-soil speeches carried him into the Massachusetts State Senate in 1 and he was elected to Congr by the American party in 1854 soon aiter identifying himsell witn the Republican party, then in its infancy, aking a prominent place in the many discus: of the slavery question. His quick acceptance of Preston Brooks' challenge, which followed close upon his public denunciation of Brooks' cowardly and brutal attack upon Sumner n the floor of the House, met with the approval of even those most sternly op- posed to the practice of dueling. In 1861 President Lincoln appointea him Minister to Ausiria, but because of his | speeches in behalf of ibe freedom of Hun- | ary that country refused to receive him | and he was soon after appointed Minister | to China, where, after he bad gained the | confidence of those in power, he wus en- abled to perform a signal service to his | own Government by negotiating the fa- mous lingame treaty of 1867-68. His appointment by Prince Kung, re- nt of the Chinese empire, as special cmbassador to the United States and the leading powers of Europe, was an honor never before conferred upon a foreigner, and many San Franciscans recollect the sensation created in our city wien Mr, Burlingame landed here with his numer- s retinue of richly clad Chinese digni- wo years later a Russian war vessel teamed into New York harbor draped in mourning and with fiags at halfmast, bearing home in funeral state all that w: mortal of the high-souled man whose life- had ended with this most successful mission. £o much we all know. Itis the record of bis public life and has veen given to the world at large as its right. O! his private rite we know little, since that belonzed to Lis family and friends, and to have even a mpse of it is a vrivilege not. easily arned nor lightly bestowed. It was the writer's happy foriune re- cently to pass a long and delightful after- noon as a guest of th silver-haired lady | who has proudly worn throughout her iife the name made famous by her wel veloved brother. Mrs. Beisey Burlingame Hinman was my hostess, and her home is in the pleas- | ant suburban viliage of Lorin, where, since | her modest reserve generally renders her silent concerning Ler personal history, | few know more ol her save that she is, de- | spite her vears, an earnest church and | temperance worker—a woman of clear | | and broad mind and of a ch: | twenty-seven Living in California. cterin] “We were all ve every way admirable. | said, * ecial Of herselt Mrs. Hinman says little, but | her ve aglance at a huge scrapbook shows that alter establishing herself in her Califor nia home she found time among the mani- fold duties of her busy life to contribute poems, sketches and essavs of more than average merit to a number of California papers. Quitegrecently the Woman’s | was descended from the Angels, if Christian Temperance Union has pub- | ever there was a real angel on earth she lished a book of hers, “‘Michael’s Vision,” | was one!’”’ which is original, both in design and exe- | When he was 16 he came from Detroit cation, and is a valuable addition to their | where ne had been at school to Branch, iiterature, which was then the famiiy's home, and At present, in collaboration with her | duri s stay organized, wi h the help only remaining sister, Mrs. Susan Bur- | of the local teacher, the first Michigan lingame Phillips of Chicazo, she is en- | temperance society, a branch of the Wash- zaged in a labor of love, preparing a vol- | ingtonians, He was very zealous in ths ume of reminiscences of the brother of | work, and the first speech of his lite was whom they are both so justly proud. made to help the cause which always lay The room in which we sat was full of | near his heart. that loved brother's influence, even | MissE though he was laid in his honored tomb | tioneq, long years ago. A large | bright- portrait of him hangs over the white- 1 1o *'m oud of him,"” she y our mother, and he loved ¢ dearly. Her maiden name w —this with a gleam of fun in the pleasant blue ev, children born in remember when Anson was on his w: China, and came to see me here tornia, speaking of mother, he ced, ambitious boy was destined e bis mark in the world,” and she e \Y\ i A\ N/ e N ANSON BURLINGAME, THE FAMOUS STATESMAN AND DIPLOMAT. covered bed; a number of photographs of | persnaded him to give a brief addrsss on him and his family bave places of honor | temperance in the schoolhouse. in her handsome album, and in alarze | Every one thereabouts knew and liked scrapbook she has cafefully pasted every- | Anson, but when the night ¢ thing which has come under her notice in | a the public prints concerning bim, while | his first shyness wore off, made the on her bookshelves are copies of the | crowded audience a speech which moved varions eulogies and memorials which {0~ | them alternately to lauzhier and to tears lowed his widely lamented death. | the eonviction spread among them that Of him she soeaks freely and gladly | no ordinare future was in store for him. a | IN“ THE ' JUNMENILE ' DEPA SOME REMINISGENGES OF ANSON 1 she had four | Eden, a town in Ohio. [ rilett, the teacher before men- | was firm in the belief that this | me and he, | mere lad of 16, rose modestly and, after | when questioned by one whom she feels | to be actuated by real interest and not by | s id'e curiosity. That same year he made his first anti- avery speech, striking the keyaote which dominated his after life, BURLINGAME | Il MRS. BURLINGAME HINMAN, SIST finisters Gsed often to stop at fath-| narrates Mrs. Hinman, “and one of | them, a Baptist named Brown, delighted | | to argue with Anson on various subjects | | “.0 hear the boy talk,’ as he said. They | | azreed on temperance, but one night | ‘wheu they were talking of the evils of | | drink Anson boldly saia that there was | a greater curse to the country than liquor. What is that? asked Mr. Brown. | ‘Slavery,’ replied Anson,and Mr.Brown | | being a pro-slavery man, disputed this at once. Later. in a spirit of mischief, b dared the youth to debate tbe question | | with him in public, and, to every one's | | surprise, the challenge was accepted. The | debate took place in the largest hall of | the town, and my brother scored a succoss | as complete as it was unexpected by tne l | rest of us.” That was the beginning of his public | | career, and so great was the interest ex- | {cited by his unusual talent and attain- | ments that his onward course was made com paratively easv jor him. “He made friends everywhere,” de- | clares his sister, “and those who were kind to him be never forgot in the days of bis prosperity—he was the dearest bov!" Again that soulful brightening of the fair, | old face, and then she tells me how on his to China he sought her out in ber qniet home in Yankee Jim, and made her a long and pleasant visit. | “I well remember,” she muses, “how when he bad been there aday or two he | went down to the store in the village with | my husband after something which I needea for supper, and, word going about that he was there, p-op e came flocking in from near and far to see him, and while my supper was spoiling Anson was mak- ing the crowd a speech of an hour's length from the store steps, an! sbaking Lanas wi'h them afterward. They made | him do it"—this earuestly—*he was never one to push himseif forward, and they RTMENT OF | tne dea WHERE BOOKS TO CHILDRENS LIKING ARE PROVIDED FOR THEU THE PUBLIC LIBRARY. | read a number of child’s books seem to do this as a study.”’ “Would you mind seiectin som that are favorites with the San Fra le oues for me to look a The lady, who enjoined that her shouid not be mentioned, produce three piles of books, afier a firtle ta and much searching in the diif= compartment: Here ar | books that San Francixco's youngest reug. ers devour with delight: All fairy stories. “Robinson Crusoe.”’ “Jack Ballister’s Fortunes.” “Little Paul,”” by Cnar.es Dickens. All of Ol.ver Optic. Most of Aiger’s, but few boys re. his series through. “Church Purdy, the Story York Boy; *‘Dab Kinzer,” ger” and other stories by William 0, Stoddard. | “Tom Sawyer” Twain's works. | “Treasure Island.” Kirk Munroe's stories. “Rocky Mountain Series,” “The Gun. boat Series,” *Go-ahead Series” and ot | books by Harry Cdstlemon. | These are the favorites among the { The girls read these books, but also | favoritet books which not one bo a hundred will peruse. The litle girls r Tue “Elsie Books"—all of them. | Frances Hodgson Burnett's works. | Mrs. Meade’s bo Noah Perry. | Elizabeth Stuart Phelps. | “An Old-Fashioned Girl.” “Five Little Pepvers and How Grew." There 1s one thing in common tetween the boys and girls of San Frar : is that there are certain and others o1 are read all throughb. The or stance, read all that are known as “Elsie books,” beginning with “F, Dinsmore” and conciuding w Ion.” The boys do not read but they will take an author li and read all his books as :aithf girls peruse all those cailed “'E handiwork of Martha Finley (Far son). i The arrangemert of the alcove g , the juvenile department is of other sections of the library. ( side are tab es for the young read atand dresm, also the lbra (On the other side are the boc the com tments dev | authors generally three-fo | with the compartments occ iy ! favored authors erally In medieval times r employed for d | sonaces, the notion by into them would show There may idea, as many of the ancien {acids, and they would decom; rny material very quickly. wereall just delighted with him for let- ting them see the outside world through bis eyes.” The threatened duel with Preston Brooks is touched on lightly. “He could do no less than accept the | challenge,” is his sister’s dict, ‘‘ana we all looked at it that way, though we were sorry he was forced into it and I was dreadfully frightened as to the outcome. He chose rifles as the weapons and a place in Canada for the meeting and went to precticing right away, though he was ai- ways a good shot. Brooks heard how clever he was with his gun and backed out, giving as an excuse that he fesred to journey through the Northern States to Canada for fear of ‘the Yankee mob. "’ And then she shows me his pictures and the storiss which were printed of him ng his triumphal progress from a er's office to the position of repre- sentative of an empire. Then reverently she shows me what was written and spoken of him after his death. Going to the door with me she stands just outside the flitting shadow of the vines, her face and figure giorihed by the soft radiance of the serting sun. “He was & good man in every way,’’ she says simp'y, as we recur for a moment to the Lject after we say good-by, “and he was est boy !’ And what beiter eulogy could the no- biest of us wish than this, spoken by the lips of one who knew us from childhood to manheod and from manhood the wrave? ORENCE PERCY MATHESON. - Mr. _Gladstone's Father. Jobn Gladstoae was a man of grea! ability and energy—a man to make his ay through any difficulties and to win the honor and respect of any community. In the public and political sense he stood in somewhat the same relationship toward his son, W:lliam Ewart Gladstone, that the first Sir Robert Peel occupied with bis son, the great Sir Robert Peel. One of William Gladstone’s elder brothers I remember weil in Liverpool, where as a very young man I spent several years. la | This brother, Mr. Roberison G | wasa man of singular ener: | of character, of genuiue abilitv both in | Gladstone. One of his frie politics and finance, a powerful and im- | that nothing was evar taken for pressive speaker, a sort of rough-hewn | between Sir John Glad~tone a | model for his younger and much greater | He startea and kept alive a { broth | cession of arguments on small He was a man of somewhat uncouth ap- | on large. pearance and ecceniric ways. He was| His family circle appears to about 6 feet 7 inc ature, and peo- | what the K of Nav ple turned their heads 1o Jook after him | peare’s play = adstone, § haps help to account for force | nary aptitude for debate es in s I the sireets of London—although, of | little academ | course, in his native Liverpool be was too | his mettle well known to be stared at. He had, as I | damage the | bave said, eccentric ways, but be had no | done in the most perfect good ways that were ignoble or unmanly. He | with the full and unflagging enjoy | was as straightforward a politician as ever | of those who took part i lived. | have been capital preparation He had begun life as a Tory, but he | ford Union and for the debaies gradually became a Liberal, and indeed | House of Commons.—Outlook. au advanced Radical. If he were 11;\~ ‘ - our time he would be a powerful and : : | It was the common belief in Liverpool, The only man in the United Stat | and probably is the common belief there | lives in a church steeple is H stiil, that Robertson G'adstone assisted | Bradds, the sexion of the b his brother Wiliiam iu the preparation of | at Westport, a suburb of Kunses City. | bis budgets when William was again and | The room is small, scarcely larger than & again Chancellor of the Exchequer. dry-goods box. It is just under the be He was eloque! In that tiny room he cooks, e: ——————— es who ckiah tin a strong, unshapely sort of way, with a half-poctic gleam of | ~'¢eps. Through the small window teeling glancing every now and then | Turnish light in the daytime he can s | through his speeches. The eldest brother, portion of Kansas City. Above | Sir Thomas Giadstone, passed through | the swallows twitter as they fly i | tife withou vanciag from bis old-world | through the lattice work. | polities. and made no particular mark | FOW is a bed, a dress | upon his time. I have often thought tnat | & table. He has been s nature resoived to make a decided ad-| fOT several years, and has occ | vance in the family hist ry by tne crea- | FOOm in the steeple since his wife le | tion of Robertson Gladstone, and that, | Some years ago he married a widow with not yet quite satisfied with her work, sue | #grown son. The son proved a bone of tried again and gave William Ewart Glad- | C‘ijen‘lijnf, :«:d lahebr mimelons ans stone to the world. the wife left her husband, Sir John Gladstone, the father, was one i niture with her. Then of those men who, like his illustrious son, tfe’f“fiz"md\‘é‘“‘ “] isan interesting description given of his and since then Mr. E ways with his children, which may per- | lonesome life.—Kansas City T rch move be ARISTOCRATIC CATS The fad for aristocratic cats has at last | reached San Francisco, and in future we [ may expect to bear the ladies di cussing | the fine po nts of swel! felines in much the same manner asa dog fancier dilateson the qualities of his favorite setter. Think of $25 for a kitten or $50 for a grown cat! Yet that is the price a Pacific- | The tail should be long and flat, wi avenue lady paid for two feline beauties a | broom-lika hair, which, it abund few weeks ago, and now there are many | correspondingly increases the cat’s value. other Iadies negotiating for some of the | Richness of coloring and correct mark- same kind. The cats come from Massa- | ings make up the standard. The body should not be too long, t graceful, and covered with long silky slightly curiing. The lezs should be of moderate length and in proportion to the body; the paws sparsely covered wilh hair bair, yet a tuft of hair growing out from the toes an indication of h.gh breedin FOUR OF THE ARISTOCRATS. chusetts, where one man makes a b of breeding them for sale and show pur- poses There is a standard for the King Royal | mixed white and biack, eray and wl cats—as they are cailed—that is as exact- | blue and white, tiger and white, buff a ing as that of St. Bernards. It calls for a | white. mal'ese and white and ermine and small, orange-shaped lLead without 100 | tortcises e white, black, biue and long a nose; ge brilliant eyes of a color | buff are the most rare. bharmonizing with the color of the fur;| The caiseven as kittens are said to be There are ten distinct colors of Kinx Royal cats, which include white, bla brown, gray. blue, buff, tiger and maltese; t ears rather small and rounded, with a tuit of hairon tbe apex, and a full, flowing mane about the head and neck. extraordinarily graceful and are aescribed as possessing “‘most charming manners and dispositions.”