The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, June 27, 1897, Page 26

26 THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL., SUNDAY. JUNE 1897. 27, THE SECRET OF A STA RTLING STAGE METAMORPROS scenes and stood at the door of the great actor’s dressing-room to discover for myself whether or no there were “‘two of ’em.” He paused in the act of putting on the red hair and the whiskers of Rudolph | Rassendy1! and looked up. Behind him a man stood with a walch and told off the seconds as they passed. | | Giving a last dash of powder to his face and smiling while he gasped for breath, he sprang from the chair and up the steps the snouts with the drunken revelers. ' and again in front of the audience. The | drunken scene lasted but a few moments. | | The King, after drinking the drugeed wine, stageered up the steps, supported | by his two faithful attendants. At the | top steps, just out of sight of the watcn- ing audience, stood a double, and | as the drunken King reeled forward | the double fell back into the arms | of the attendants insensible so quickly ana neatly that I started surprised | as Hackett darted by me, clutched | | at false whiskers and mustache and grease paint, pulled on his worn trousersand ( coat and vest and disappeared again “Come down,” he said, “and view us | around the back, where his hat and cane from the wings. Take your position on |and lighted cigarette awaited him. and | the right-hand side near the dressing- |slowly sauntered on to the stage appar- | table.” ently unconcerned. But I could see, as I | And he passed l€isurely on to the stage. | leaned forward and watched closely, that | I dia as he told me and watched him | he was panting for breath. lounge about. Rudolph Rassendyll, he| * e | | was there—tie indolent Englishmen trav- At the close of the third act he sent for | eling throagh Ruritania for amusement | me and findine itin beinglazy. ‘“Watch bhim | * | now!” said some one behind me. said, “and see how fr ghtiul I can look.” | He was twirling bis cane and puffing| I was soon in the midst of the paint and | idly on a cigarette and talking with so | the powder and the wigs, and all ahe stage much ease. | finery. 1 plead euilty to wanting to try “Rsturn? By all means—unless my |on all the hats with the long plumes, “Horribly warm!” he said. got my { “Haven't | breath from that duel vet. Max, | open the winiow. Sitdown, please. Dan, | tix the lights. How mucn time have I anyhow? Excuse my going righton and hurrying. Let me see, I need a little more red, don’t . Here, my coat and—"’ He stood up and put on his coat and took his cane and hat and cigarette. 1 sighed mightily. | Helaugned. “I haveto talk that way. Never would get anything saia. [ have so little time.” Beckoning to me to follow | he started down the steps and paused at the bottom. ‘ome in and watch the makeun,” be | friend and his distinguished foreign Iady | which are so bewitchinzly becoming, and | have vanished altogether. Au revoir.” the man behind | view, and a few seconds afterward Ru- | dolph Rassenayll, sword in hand and his armin a sling. rusned down the stairs, the first man ejaculated triumphantly: “There, now; there's two of 'em!"” And ticother replied, as he handled the programmie, “Why don’t they put both their names down, then?" “He can’t do it,” said me, confident)y “Weli, but Le does,” exc positively. And then the curtain wi Butall the evenivg t spe the stage with “‘there now’s’” and *1told you s until, finally, as the mad kinz, clanking his chains and vells, left our imed another up. reued, inter- So [ braved the mysieries of behind the . ing the SHE BEATS THE WOMAN ENGINEER. Mrs, Morse, the Feminine “Elevator Boy" in the Appraiser's Building of San Frangcisco. She gave me a fright at our first meetine. Business having taken me to the Ap- praiser’s building, and my modern dislike of stairs being for the moment stronger than my ola-fashioned timidity concerning elevators, I entered the waiting lift. Another woman was already seated there—a pleasant-faced, quiet-looking person at whom I glanced carelessly bfore trying conclusions with a refractory glove-button. ‘There was nothing alarming in herappearance certainly, but in a moment she pro- | ceedea to do something that was, 10 me, very alarming indeed. She shut the door with a snap and ug at the rope in the corner started us upon our upward journey. I closed my eyes in sheer terror. My companicn was a lunatic, surely, for no sane woman passenger wouid ever dare to meddle wilh the dangerous mysteries of an | elevator, and a sick fear of being dashed against the roof or dropped into the cellar through her instrumentality chilled me from head to foot. We were coing very slowly at any rate; perbaps some one might see us and res- cue me. Isummoned up courage to look around. Thank heaven! a man was waiting on the secord floor, but as I was about to anpeal to him our upward flight was ar- rested, the door opened. and he came in. Next floor, please,” he said in a matter-of-fact way, nodding pleasantly at the woman with her hand on the rope, as we started up again, avd then I suddenly and thanktully realized the situation. **Are you the elevator boy ?” I asked when I was orce more alone with my femi- nine charioteer, and she answered ungmilingly in the affirmative. “Another example of the ‘crowding’ propensities of the ‘new woman,’ ”’ I thought, as [ left her at the upper floor, but a iittle after investigation proved me mistakan. Uncle Sam’s representatiyes in the Customs Department of San Francisco have, it seems, a particular predilection for women as *“‘elevator pilot No reason is assigned for this, but facts prove it. One lady, a Mrs. Annie Carson, ran the Custon-house elevator for a time, until her sudden death deprived her blind soidier husband of her loving care. And during the seventeen years that have elapsed since the elevator was putin the Appraiser’s building that means of rapid and easy transit Las been for fourteen years of the time under the control of a femi- nine hand. The first woman putin charge was Mrs. Bradford, a Southern lady of birth and breeding, who, baving experienced reverses of fortune, wus thrown on her own resources. A painful lameness made it impossible for her to engage in any employ- ment which necessitated t bright mind among her friends thought of the possibility of making & “new de- parture” in her favor. The work of managing an elevator, though confining and monotonous, is by no means heavy nor mentally or physically wearing, and Mrs. Bradford, though a crippie, was fully competent to perform all the duties required. It was not difticult to secure ber the position, since the very novelty of the idea seemed to disarm opposition, and for three years (ais lady occupied tue place to the satisfaction of all concern: The second lady to officiate in this capacity was Mrs. Kate L. Arnold, a widow of a Union soliier who served his country both in war and pesce, but after suffering serious losses of property died in 1884, leaving bis young wife with four little children to suppork | now nor grace of e possession of either much strength or activity, and some | | the silk-lined capes and the white satin He took one slow step into the wings | Coats, and the vests, and the swords. and then away went cane, hat and cigar- | Ilooked quickly at him, but he didn’t ette, and around the back of the scenes | guess my desire. He was busy, and the | they came, the dresser in the lead and | result of his busyness made me start: | Hackett following. There was no ease | A streak of dark blue adown the cheek, | manner. He threw |and a dull red beneath it, and about the | things right and left and pulled at but- | chin. tons and swraps in a fashion that would have sickened the heart of a housewife. Off came the brown suit and the mus- tache and whiskers, to be replaced by a | purposa for which it dark suit with military coat and smooth- | placed it on the actor face makeup. it, the hair unkempt and suff and dry, head. As headded and pounded aeainst and with a strange fitness about it, for the | hands and this mask to the audience for | was intended, and [a second, grasp-d During his dressing he [ the grease paint around the edges he | held outto him and sprang up the steps | exhausted into it. “Tired?’ Of course, | paused enough to turn his head aud utter | looked toward me and smiled. An, what |and down into ihe dungeon as he ex- | the most seuseless thing 1 could ask. He | was a asmile! It was ghastly and inaneand hor- rible. Even in the warmth of the room, with tne bright lights and the gleaming mirrors, and the sounds of happy voices and laughter, it sent a thrill of bhorror over me. l “That is awfal!” He nodded his head and said in a satis- | fied way as he stood up, and pulling on his | coat viewed himself in the mirror. “Itis " rather awful, isn’t it? That’s what Iin- tended it to be. Come on and stand where you were before.”” { I stood on the top of the steps And’ watched him and I heard the clank of the chains as they fastened them on his | wrists. Then the bell rang and the cur- tain rolied silently up and [ went and | stood behind the scenes and listened to his | mutterings and groans. And the bare zray walls in the glimmer- ing flicker of the unsteady light, and the forms of the stagehands moving in the half light silently or with whispers which only brought out more Intensely the gerbled mutterings of the mad Rudolph | in the dungeon at Zenda—all was so real, | so terribly real, that I stepped back as he staggered toward the door in front of me with fiendish, horrible laughter and in- | coherent yells, which were—well, mad is | a!l that can express it. | But once out of sight inside of the door Mr. Hackett dropped the chains, snatched | off his wig and reaching the chairin front of his dressing-table bezan to remove all traces of the mad makeup, while his two dressers removed his outer trcusers, leav- | ing him dressed in short trousers and a white shirt. | In a shorter time than it takes to think | it all out he had replaced the wig with the one of Rudolph Rassendyll, changed his facial makeup, bune his arm in a ! sling, and with a mask in his band ok | *“I'he wig, Max,” he said. Max brought | one step back to the grating of the door | dressing-room where I stood, still witn | My, but it’s warm. his | the shrieks of the madman and the clank- ing of chains and the clashing of swords he dropped the mask, | in my ears. it, showing then the sword that his attendant Mrs. Arnold’s incumbency was, however, quite brief, as she, from the first, looked | uron the position as only & stepping-stone to some employment more congenial to one of her temperament. Alter a few months of faithful service a place in the Re- corder’s cffice was secured for this brave little woman, whose devotion to her chilaren and uncomplaining acceptance of hard fortune had won her many friends, and the next woman put i charge was the incumbent, Mra. Caroline Morse. | Rescued From a Life of S There was a piano in one corner of the | Oddly enough, Mrs. Morse, though the picture of blooming health, is entitled | room, with little knick-knacks and photo- | L fully to b elected at least an honorary member of the far-famed “shut-in’ society, circumstances from the companionship of her fellow-beings. to this coast Mrs. Mor: years and a half later before the bride sot her foot upon the mainland acain. Four years at the Farallon light were foliowed by a five years' residence at was given charge of the lighthouse at the Farallon Islands. Mr. and there until bis death. had been hers for nine years, to enter into the struggle for existence with much hope | of success, Mrs. Morse came to Sam Francisco with her children, the oldest 8 years | old and the youngest & baby of 12 months. { For a while tha prospect was discouraging, but soon influential persons inter- ested themselves in securing employment for the soldier’s widow. Mrs. Arnold had given up the guidance of the Apvraiser's elevator, and a precedent having been es- tablished and the way made smooth for the appointment of another woman to the position, Mr. Jerome, then as now Deputy Collector, was instrumental in giving ber the place, which was coveted by many. | Siuce then Mrs. Morse's life may be truly said to have been one of more “‘ups and downs'’ than generally fall to the lot of the feminin portion of poor humanity. ght hours a day for eleven lonz years she has sat in the cornet of that same ele- | vator and, suspended between Leaven and earth, attended to her duty conscientiously and faithfully. | No story of an accident mars the record of her career. No complaints of careless- ness or recklessness have ever gone up into “the office” to pave the way for a suc- | cessor. During the entire eleven years no sky has bern threatening enough, no rain heavy enough and no wind boisterous enough to keep this model “elevator boy'* | from ber post. | Patient, quiet and kindly, prinstaking, she has won not only the respect but the esteem of all whose business brings tbem in daily contact with Ler. She has sat serenely in her chair of office through rival administrations, “doing the duty that lies nearest her hand,” and only once has ste been in the least disturbed by the | political battle in the world outside of her quiet retreat. | The Collector who was placed in power under Cleveland’s first administration, | having perhaps some political debts to pay, or it may be, having a personal objection | 10 the empicyment of a woman in such a position, considered after a time that it was | his privilege to quietly but firmly remove *‘Caroline,” as she is designated in friendly spirit by some of the older officials, and put a sturdy and reiiable voter in her vlace. Action followed decision, and Mrs. Morse was deposed; but o the new Collector's utter and unqualified surprise a fierce if miniature rebellion began to rage around him as soon as it became known that he had declared the place vacant. Letters and teleerams from some of the most influential people in the City pourea in upon the Secretary of the Treasury in regard to the matter. ¢. Mason Kinne and Mrs. Kinne interested themselves personally in the affair; members of several of the Grand Army corps joined in the fray, and the Government employes in the City, headed by Mr. Jerome, made a very effective protest in the “dropped” lady’s behalf. | So great was the interest sho wn and 0 vizorous was the opposition made that the far-off Secretary was at last impressea with the fact that the *good of the serv- ice” did not require thaiany change should be made in the elevator department of | | the Appraiser’s building in San Francisco. The appointment sent to him for con- | | firmation was returned without his august approval, and after & two months’ m-1 | forced vacation Mrs. Morse returned triumphan:ly to her post. i | That was in 1887, and for the ten years since she has held undisputed sway within | her narrow domain. She is “‘monarch of all she surveys” in very trutk and, whatis | more, in this discontented world of hers, she is perfectly content with the biessings | | that have fallen to her lot. | “Don’t you get dreadfully tired of it?’ I asked her a day or two axo, sfter | had | | riaden up and down with her a balf dozen times just to see how the thought of earn- | ing my living by ““up-rising and down-setting” in an elevator continually would affect me, and she looked at me with honest-eyed surprise. | |, “Tnere is nothing to get tired of,” she sald gently. *It is my work and I know | | how todoitand I am used toit. I am very thankful that I have had it todo all | these years. It has piven my children a zood home and a good education and me an [ bonest living; what more could I ask?” : | 1looked around at the three narrow walls and the doorway opening into a hall | | which constitute ber prison eight hours every working day. Then I thought of the | free out-of-doors and the women who work in offices and stores with windows in | them whence their eyes, be they never sotired, can calch a reassuring glimpse of sun and sky and busy str | . “It seems like a cave in the wildernesss in here,” I said, and she laughed cheerily. | “I'm used to it,” she answered, ““and it's only eight hoursa day, anyway. I get | 8 good deal of time outside, and then the people going up and down are kind of com- pany. I've been bere so long, you see, that almost everybody knows me, and they | are all pleasant and polite.” | | And then the mother love shone bright in her pleasant face. | It has given my children a chance in the world,” she said. “It has kept us together and made their lives happy and comfortable. Iam very thankfull” | And then we reached the lower floor, and as I stepped out a group of waiting | men stepped in. She leaned over a little and nodded at me in friendly fashion. “Second floor, please,” said one of the men, and as she ascended into the shadows I went out 1nto the sunshin FroreNce PERCY MATHESON. ITALY'S MOST AMIABLE QUEEN Itis a wonder that Queen Marcherita of ; Indeed, it is related in court circles that | ftaly is so well dressed, for instead of | ber maids take such advantage of her | being provided with nrst-class “dressers,” | amiability and her indulgence that they | a5 the maids of queens ana royal prin- | 9CIUSIIY insult her almost to her face. | | cesses are styled, she only has three ordi- | , 1U% the other day her Majesty called : r ber head maid, who was in an adjoini nary. untidy and indifferen maids, Who | yoan,. The woman. who was dorme smwe | have no notion of the rvice of a “femme | thing or other, had the insolence to ex- | de chambre” in the French, English or | claim in tones of annoyance, *accidente,” | American sense of the word. Until two | which is equivalent to the English phrase, vears ago she was waited upon by an ex- | “Botheration take you!” but which, liter- i celient and faithful woman who had beeu | ally translated, is nothing more or less in her service since her infancy, but from | than the expression of a wish that a mis- the time of that worthy creature’s death | hap or accident may overtake the person she Las been most indifferently served. | to whom it is addressed.—Chicago Record. I gravhs of girls with bright eyes and smil- nce from the date of ber marringe she has been much of her time shut away by |ing | plants nodding in the Stephen Morse, her husband, served in the navy for many years, and then, coming | blossoms on the slender stems—wondrous in their fair perfection. went to this sequestered spot on their bridal trip, and it was over two | and couches and cushions in the pretty | | home of ifiss Lake at tha Methodist Mis- i sion on Washington street, and there was | the light on Piedras Blancas, to which place Mr. Morse was transferred, remaining | plenty of sunshine, too, streaming in with the cooling breeze through the open Left alone in the world and somewhat unfitted, by the extremely solitary life that | window. | hand that she gave to me and looked into | timid, fearful way about her. ter? Perhaps she was influenced or she | could not help herself, or— faces. There were dainty window: green with There were chairs | LAURA LEE, the Half-Caste claimed, ** then, arose and went to her. said, caressing derness ir so much to-day. room was dreadiul for her.”” had not aratefully. ! her. American 1S hank God, I am in time!” A few moments later he came into the He walked slowly to a chair and sank covering her own face with her| sobbed convulsively. Miss Lake * Poor child,” she her, with a world of ten- ber voice. e has suffered The scene in the court- hands, She felt the tenderness. She looked up and smiled through her tears. { “Icouldn’t have got throuzh at all if it been for Miss Lake,” she sa'd “Iam afraid 10 be away from | ( i | nodded, breathing heavily. ‘“Haven't caught my breath all through this act. But the time I am tired is matinee days. “But you re » parts, don’t you?” He looked at me a moment. *No,"” he said, shaking his bead. “I don’t. I work!” And the amendment epted. MURIEL BAILY. lavery One day—ob, it was quite late in the ev:n ing, but not quite dark, as I was going uome. a man came np behind and caught hold of me by the shouidersand attempied to hnurry me away “1 screamed and resisted and a volice- man came and the man was arresied When he was tried they sent him to the penitentiary. My father would have ot into trouble, but his cousins hurfied him out lere to San Francisco, These ( ; who are his relatives, havo been sure they could sooner or later get a um money for me, and so they have kept on giving him mouey, and that is what the family has lived upon.” “What made you decile to leave finally?” I usked, wondering what depths of misery this poor chiid had been forced I said, *‘play both | to suffer. | he was a little afraid. “My mother had my picture taken and took it down through Chinatown showing it to the different men and searchir the one who would pay the most for me. Finally they dccided on this man—tne secretary of their big society. Mv mother took me down to show me to him. He had heard oi the trouble in Chicago and He asked me Low 1 thought we would get along together. I | didn’t think we would get along atall, but I didn't dare tell him so. She smiled, showing two rows of beautiful teeth. “But after my mother put me into that | house I began to get more frightened for ! fear they would put me some place where I coulan’t get word to m She told me they would kill me if I made any trouble, and I think she wanted to show her power over me, and that .1s the reason she took my clothes away and left e in that strange house. “Then 1 zot out and told Miss Lake about it, and she told Mr. Holbrook. They v friends at all. | had some officers come and take me away | my guardian. | and bring me here.” +And you are glad to be here?’ How could I help it?” she exclaimed. “‘They are 30 kind to me. Idon’t think there 13 any one in the world so good as Miss Lake.”” She saia this enthusiasti- cally. “I wouldn't have any one else for I know she will take care i that 1 do right.” { We live in a Girl Whose Parents Endeavored to Sell Her Into Slavery to Chinese in Chicago and This City. “This is Miss Lee,” said Miss Lake. From one corner of the couch she arose, | this eirl who las been sold by a white | mother and a Chinese father, and who is virtually a prisoner now at the Methodist | Mission. As I held the long, shapely | her pale, troubled ‘ace I wondered how a mother could have done so. For she is a beautifnl girl, with a man- ner as simple 2sa little child’s, and a They say that the last thing a woman loses is her motner-love. Was it possible that a woman who had become degraded to that degree could have such a daugh- “My mother took me two nights ago to a bouse and left me thers over night. She took away my clothing and made me drsss in Chinese ¢lothing.” The color came faintly to her cheeks as she leaned forward and spoke eagerly. *“Oh, do not know what it is to not be afraid every momen: of my life. 1 have been afraid to speak a word, afraid to look at any one, airaid every time my moiher spoke and every time my father came into the house. When I saw them speaking together T trembled for fear they were plotting some new wav to make me bring them money and rid them of me. Ihave been watched and shown to men I loathed and bargainea for until—" She looked around a moment at the cozy little room and at our faces, and *“You shall not be!” exclaimed this im- petuous girl. “We'll do evervthing— everything to keep you away from those people. “To-day in cou: she went on—and her expressive face flushed indignan tiy— “it was heartrending. I could hardly en- dure it, and it was not my mother—" The other girl shook her head. “I never knew or realized all the cruelty before because I did not know kindness, but to-day when they stood there, all those people of my father's nationality, with their wicked, heartle-s faces, and my | mother shrieked and swore and tried to et at me 1o strike me, it seemed too aw- ful to bs real.” She shuddered and leaned back against the cushions and wiped ber eyes, her only likeness to her father's race. And she looked %o simple and pathetic with her pale, troubled face and her dark blue dress. The degradation amidst which she has lived has not left its impress upon her. She appears as modest as any well- guarded American girl. Sue is not her mother’s daughter nor yet her father's child. *'1 have been sold twice,” she said.” 1 am 17. “It wason my account that they had to leave Chicago,” she went on. soid me to a man there when I was quite @ child. For years he and my mother bad been living on the money this man was paying for me. When he wanted to take me I wouldn't go,ond they were afraid the authorities would interfere. [y fatter | And she was trusting this voung woe man in preference to a mother—trusting to be saved from her mother that she might do right. What kind of a woman ¢ uld she be to have done all this? “At home,” she said, “it is so wded. family house in Prospect place. These houses do not have daors | butare curtained off, and, oh! you have no idea of the numbers—sometimes fif- teen live in one small room, and there are so many children everywhere. It is noisy and dirty and— Well,’ she said, as wa | rose to go. “Prospect place s nct like this.” A maze of dirty alleys fil'ed with a mot- ley crowd of men and women and chil- dren. We went down one street and up another and around corners until our heads swam. There are as many bad odors in Chinatown as there were in ancient Rome. You find & new and mors unusual one evers time you turn a corner. { And there are more strange places and uncanny faces than one has time to think about. Prospect place is | It is not cleanlier—it is not as cleas the worst part of Chinatown. Its build- ings were once of some pretension, tut | ean boast of nothing save tilth. “Lee? Tners!” And a worthy Celes. tial pointed out a door a few feet fram us. My escort pushed it open and we looked in. There were dark, bare irs leading to the upper story, and bare tloors and halls about us. Lo the right a door stood open, and I heard the sound of voices. As we stood ihere a little ragzed urchin ran to the door and peersd out at us and shouted out vile names. A woman’s voice answered him and the child's face disappeared to Le repiaced by bers. There were eyes cruel and cunning—the cunning of the baser sort, which amounts to a peculiar kina of biut Her mouth bad a simster expiession, with lips—oh, how can one describs a tace in which not even the unimal Las a place? And this was the mother of that g Without a word, but with a feel borror. I turned away. And 1 heard ber laugh as we closed the unsuitably named. g of door, JEAN Mogais, ) A