The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 14, 1897, Page 20

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 14 1897. A dull, dim morn with mist veiling land. Fading plumes, purple s copper- tanned, droop languidly on the tall palm tress of the grove. The sword-leaves the pandanus hang limp and spiritless, the yellow bloscoms of the fau shrivel among their untidy leaves, the very waves of the lagoon roll list y, with marble tints of Dull, depressin wings of the / c brooded over land and sea. A out of the stillr tloats the voice of a man ting news the world must out of the mist glidesa b aw r with muffled oars, He 1OWI rowers wear not wreatt no song is on th-ir lips, rere sound oi pet and d scarce ct and ter on, stan oldir , the chief's high spokest up a fine mat, worn dim e, and ng, in ed monoione, for b The Clouds Excell o Us Bow Our Heads! Have Passed Along With His Pe’ 1li. He Is Dead. ensed peddlers in San | the present time, of whict are kno as “'wagon ped- and 137 are ‘“‘basket peddlers’’— cluding the t"’ people, the the fishmen and ! of these small inio our city | ) are per- at la ng 2X trade without be; privilege of so doi Under these circumsiances 1t is no won- er that the town on pleasant days s fairly overrun with t nts of both | xes and nearl nd nationalities; s it any wonder that, in a vain effort , at least half our houses eposts or doorsteps the No peddlers wanted.” »g obliged to pay for the wanted or not, how- e full of them from nd in the other ions of the ¢ grate upon tk wide-awake and well persc vorkers, to whom sleep in tl a necessity, and invalids suff acute or chronic ilis are simpi by the various howis and ¥ hem succes t atiention to themselves and ng rom v tortured sze! Ni-fes-staw- 1” “Wah-men-n-n, wah-men-n-n h-men-n-n!” *On- gees, on-zees, twen-cen-duzzin!’ Frash feesh!” *Wile-ga me “Taters, ta- ters, fi-meal-tatersi six-bits-sa-sa-urk! These are some of the announcements | which come hurtling through the atmos- ore at all hours of the day, and the pea of the doorbell is almost incessant. Semi-occasionally the keeper, clesk hire, and all that, sends up a wail of remonstrance sgainst a practice which materially curtails bis income and drives hLim perilously near, if it does not wreck bim upon, the grim coast of bankruptcy. But no one seems to take Lim, and the peddler, in his almost infin- ite variety, continues to assault our front and back doors, and the acfenseless en- trances to our ears, energetically aad in- defatigably, in season and out of season, Match boys tug themselves and their sacks of sulphurous-smelling stock in trade up our steps and dolefully tell us apochryphal tales of woe to induce us 1o invest a nickel, even if the house is full of matches already. Dark-faced, dari-eved women wi t handkerchie!s tied cornerwise over their heads, and possess- ing just enough knowledge of English to ask us to buy something from the unde- sirable collection of articles in their bas- kets, and nowbhere nearenouglh to be made to understand that we don’t want them at any price, present them es beiore us day after day, and by persistence and pe. serverance generally manage to make customers occasionally against our wil The persuasive Chinese sets down his burdens before our gates and patient huge basket is “heap flesn, 1 best of all, “heap chle: monger blows his horn, 1} rings his bell, and the generic name for the guerriila-like of youths and boys who deal in the over- flow of the supply markets and are the voiced and tle least dependable in very way of ail our strect venders— niakea his appearance in detachments of isur or five, who fill the shuddering air | vith the dissonance of their raucous | voices and make their way boldly into dogless vards and through wunlockead | doors in their eager purswit of possible | trade, The vepetable peddler who is the owner or an attache ol a good frumitstore comes direct from some market-zarden or ob- 1ains his load fresh from the country at the *‘daybreak markel” is usually a quiet | and dependable fellow whose coming is a | coming is a convenience and who treats | hi« customers respectfully as to manner | s well as to bargains. His big cart, piled ! with orange-colored carrots, smnalhi heap good,” p.”" The fis icecream man brown potatoes, crimson tomatoes, cris,,‘ green lettuce and. cabbages, purpie egg- | plant, curded caulifiower, white and yel- | low turnips, plume-toppad celery, golden | cherry-hued | squashes and pumpkins, radishes and the ‘‘common” fruits— oranges, apples and grapes, with usually | the | regular store- | ho pays rent and gas bills and | much notice of | | s to convinca usthat everything in his | g potato-man’’— | horde | The villagers crowd to the shore and | tie dead chlef shall sleep his long sleep in watch the eral tremor, for there, under the flapping mats strung between the two mast:, sleeps the form of the chief who has passed with the clouc *'Leat us bow our heads.” If the cloud have borne the chief along it is to set his Anganca free, And the hearersconsu!t their timorous consciences, to know whether aught he between them and the spirit of him who sleeps, for as boat with a silent | his “'sandalwood house.” And the clouds gather gray overhead, | and the dull Jagoon mirrors their grayness surely as bis spirit has been angered in | life fo ely has bis time come forre- venge. Sickness, pain, sudden death, these are in the power of the Anganga if it be wroth. And they turn away to their thatched iuts to szek out funeral offerings which r respect for the dead and appease his spirit. Along the coast- of Savaii floats the death chant, and the death boat glides on in the gray morn, with its silent jester at the prow and its official mourner at the stern. Past drooping palm, straggling banana and horizontal-branched umbrella tree; past clustering brown huts gleaming white church and sheltering and some bananas and a pineappl ing a trovical 1ch to the varied coll tion, would de the heart of Ceres her- self did she bahola it This man has a legitimate place in the daily life of the city and fills it usually well and bon He does not indulge in the numerous “sharp’ practices of his sporadic rivals in the field, being more anxious for steady patrons than for sud- den profits, and the consequence is that he becomes well known on his special route and makes a satisfactory living and alittle more year alter year. Itis the high-shou!dered and swagger- ing individual with the ‘‘banged’’ hair, the spring-toitomed trousers, the perma- nent “ciggereete,” the rawboned and overioaded steed, the offensively lond and insistent manner, and the putatively sur- prising “bargains,” of whom the well- posted housekeeper bewares, The “tricks” of his especial branch of trade are so numerous that they fairly be- wilder the ordinary mind with their kaleidoscopic variety. This class usually r 8o, 8 | palm-tree drip, careless of damp fern and | | | | breadfruit, till it reaches the village where | | or luscious-looking oranges, deal 1n “seconds” at the best, and are the | residuary lezatees of the commission men, their keen eyes seeing value in material judged worthless and unsalable by-those who have business repytations to main- tain. Tosee a crowd of these enterprising youths aciing and holding ir of fruits and vegetables in various stages of decomposition is an object-lesson in the art of evolving something out of noth- ing. Oranges unplessantly mellow in spots are tenderly wrapped in white tissue paper and placed in inviting rows inclean and new-looking boxes. Potatoes are carefully sorted over and put in sacks, with the best ones at the top and boitom and the poor ones the middle, since seif-appointed coroners rmal inquests over lots | and the gray seabirds hover with heavy wing, “The clouds have passed along with his Excellency P-atuli. He is dead.” The mist grows palpable and falls in fine rain, the mat shutters round the vil- lage huts are drawn down, and by the footpath that winds alone the coast come I ers carry their tribute to the dead. With even step and circuitous walk they file on, at equal distances, careless of clinging creeper, as they bear their mats with patient, outstretched arms. Mats creamy and silky with newness, or dull and yellow with age, mats woven yestreen or by hands long folded in the grave, but all with a history, past or future. And in that history a fresh pzge ‘is writ to-day, for they go to grace the funeral cere- monies of Pe’atuli, the great chlef. _et us bow our heads. He is dead.” Neat morn another sight is seen, a coffin, made b covered with flowers is reverently ¢ one, the female mat-bear- v a white carpenter, and | borne | i along the footpath. For the missionaries have taught this that it is weil to lay aside the old canoe and hollowed tree, weil to bury the dead in a close box and heap up the blossoms of the earth and read the words of the Holy Book. Yet none the iess shall Pe’atuli be wrapped in his finest mat and the aromatic wild thyme and fragrant mint be laid in the box with him. For if the white missionaries’ religion be good, yetitis not good to lay aside the customs of your forefathers. And Pe'atuli had many forefathers and they were great men, So the funeral feast must be prepared and the chief buried with all honor, and no alien eyes shall look npon that burial lest his Anganga and the Angangas of his forefathers be wroth withal. The pigs are eaten, the mats distributed, the Jamenta- tions have their way, and the chief 1s laid to rest with stone bowlcers and strewn coral forming a massive monument above him. And round the tomb shail be set ere long a well-weeded inclosurs where shall bloom the scarlet hibiscus and red- leaved dracmna, with perchance a wild gardenia beckoning the birds and butter- flies to Pe’atuli’s *‘sandalwood house’ of rest. At nicht the bonfire is lighted and its rays illume the narrow distance between the chief’s old and new home, thie path he | must tread 1f he be at peace with his own and visit them at dead of night. ARG T But for two weeks or mcre the highway through the village is held sacred. The water< of the lagocn in front are tabooed | ground. No alien foot ‘shall haunt the | ground, no alien shadow fall on the waters where perchance his spirit roams. And | for two months, when the fisher passes in | his canoe be sball Lold his peace, when the pieasure-boat rows by the rowers cease their song, lest the Anganga of the chief be angered. For 1t is well to worship at the white man’s church and shout his hymns and | gatherin thought around the Great White Throne, but it is not well to forget the things that were known to the men of old. The white man is wise, knowing many things; but some he knows not. comes of a young race who have not seen the dead return to lure, to poison and to kill. H's w:sdom has not taught him the power of the soul. But the brown man is old, very old; his people have had time to llenrn the lore of the Anganga. And the | brown man knows that these things hap- pen every day. “Let us bow our heads. Tne clouds have passed along with his Excellency Pe’atuli. He isdead.” J. F. RosE-fOLEY. are sometimes found upon investigation to be possessed of supernumerary bottom so arranged that an inch or so of space is left guite undisturbed throughout all the business transactions of the seemingly generous measure, is to be deplored. Many of the stationary fruit peddlers will, however, “bear watching” quite as well as their peripatetic brethren. Who bas not, at one time or another, when attracted by symmetrical walls of cream- colored pears, crimson or yellow apples, offered for sale from carts drawn up bes.de the pave- ment, passed through the disappointing experience of receiving in return for his or | her aime & bag of ex remely inlerior fruit excavated from behind tle decoy ram- parts which remain undisturbed until some “kicker” energetically resents this method of procedure? If the *‘kicker” were more numerous among us, such small frauds would be less successful, and therefore less frequent; but as a general thing & man or woman hesitates about “‘making a fuss’’ about so swall a thing as a nickel or a dime, and so the dishonest dealer is allowed to smile approval of self and cheat comer in the same way. Another favorite method of getting the better of the unresisting public is to have paper placards posted conspicuously about the carts bearing legends cunningly calcu- lated to catch the eye of the passer-by. Over a cart full of bananas large and f will appear the sign, *‘Ten cents a dozen.’ The price is very low, the fruait excellent, r | and the person to whom both these facts “emptying out” is often insisted upon by | unkindly, suspicious patrons. “Sprouting” of both potatoes onions fully done, and so that they can be made to look all right their loss of value as food cfter they have energet- is ¢ ically begun the process of growing does | not trouble the minds of the operators. Berries and smail fruits of all kinds are refreshed, even after they have almost reached the point of fuzzy deliquescence, by the simple plan of purchasing a box or two of similar kinds which are like Ciesar's wife, and spreading them over the otliers in the form of top !ayers. Reallv fresh berries are made arly double profits by mere’y changing them from soiid to *‘hasket boxes."” “Basket boxes” are ordinary berry-boxes filled with six small splint baskets shaped ike the frustrum of a quadrilateral pyra- mid, While theclose-fitting tops of these present an almost unbroken surface to and | to pay the observer, the bottoms of the deceptive | little things are so four triang much smaller that r avenues of emptiness run the whole Jeneth of the box, and three id” receptacles will fill a litile over five of the basket kind, which, however, sell for the same price as those of hone.t weight and substance. In fact, ev ry artifice w has shown to be successful in well-nigh spoiled products of the earth look as if they were still worth buying, and ev ngz as much out of as liitle as po-sible in every way, is emp'oyed in these preparations for raids on those persons to whom the word ‘‘cheap” is the open sesame of their pocket. books. This preliminary work being sausfac- ioily concluded the “iater man’ har- nesses his pencrally shadowy and stagger- ing horse to his piled-up wagon, and with a cho'ce selection of satellites goes forth to find his prey. His haunts are the poorer downtown and the far uptown streets, and with one hand, for some oc- cult reason known only to his kind, vlaced carefully behind his ear, he shouts out his misstatement regarding his mer- chandise with all the strength of his seemingly brazen lung:. He varies the monotony of his trips by exchanging extremely offensive remarks with any of his own genus whom he may chance to come across, and *'scraps,” more or less friendly, are often indulged in to settle the disputed question of rights to certain neighborhoocs, when none of the | “finest” is in the vicinity, The fact that the temptingly large bucke!s i which be bears tomatoes, grapes and onions to our doors, as wel! as ich experience | making | aken in conjunction appeal pauses and ordersa dozen. The bag is filled ana handed him, and his proffer of a dime re- ceived with astonishment. “Twenty cents” isthe gentle correction, and when expostulation follows a con- vincing finger points to the flannting signs. Alas and alas! C ose scrutiny re- veals that in the space between the *'10 cents’’ and the “dezen”” an infinitesimal “half”’ is hidden, the assured presence of which entirely changes the complexion of the whole affair. Another sign quite as sublls in its de- ceitfulness is the one which informs the world at large, in immense scrawling let- ters, that certain fruits are to be pur- chased ‘16 for 10 cents.”” The fact that “a dozen’’ is written with a light touch in “diamond” styie uuderneath this an- the rough boxesin which there are sup- | nouncement makes this bargain also the next | RICKS OF THE FESTIVE STREET-PEDDLER -1 posed to be nearly half a sack of potatoes, | scarcely what it seems to be at first sight. | Experience teaches that it is well in all | cases to gaze searchingly at signs and placards and make acquaintance with the side of the wagon farthest from you be- fore purchasing goods from any peddler who is personally unknown to you. It also teaches that when you find one of thess gentry whocan be depended upon to give you honest value for your money it is well to patronize him exclusively, even if you have to go out of your way to do so, since close s udy of the peddling fraternity will convince any ono that tways t are cark and tricis that are vain” are not by any means the exclusive property of the “heathen Chinee.” Revsi THANKED BY BISMARGK. 8 Six weeks azo THE SUNDAY CALL pub- lished an article on Prince Bismarck’s re- lations to the German people. A copy of THE CALL containing this article was sent to the writer's mother in Hamburg, who thouzht that it might please the Prince, and forwarded it to him at his casile of Friedrichsruh. The following reply, which we give in translation, was received | by return of ma teement Mra. Major: His Highness received rkind letter, with copy of THE SAN FRAX- €150 CALL, and has suthorized me to convey s thanks to yon. His Highness has read the article written by your son with great interest, and is touched and gratified thet whatever a kind Providence | has permitted him to contribute to the weltare | of our common fatherlana 5 feelingly ex- pressea in a journal printed in the English yo is language on the far-off Pacific Coast. H!s Highness begs that his grateful acknowl- edgments be transmitted to the wriier and to the jourval. Iam, Mrs. Major, your obedient servant, V. BOHLEN. Friedrichsruh, October 4, 1897. The many admirers of the great German statesman will be pless d to learn that Lis health is better now than it has been for years. He is in exaberant spirits ana chats jovially with all who come near him. His joyousness is largely due to the pleasure he fesls that an neir has -been born to his oldest son, Herbert. “ The joy of the aged Chancellor, who can now look on a grandson who according to human calcalation will hereafter wear the proud and glorious name of “Prince Bismarck,"” is shared by all classes of the German people. WiLLiAM LODTMANN. He | There shall never be one lost good. What was shali be as,before; The evil 1s null, is naught, is silence imply- ing sound; What was good shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more; On the earth the broken arcs; in the heavens a perfect round. *That's for remembrance. stand?” Iunderstand. Albeit it is not rosemary, this spray of sorrowful Cahiornian pine I hold in my hand; neither has it been given me by a tyvpical Ophelia. She 1s plump and well favored, with the comeli- ness of contented middle age, and her smiie as she turns, lingering, away, is tender rather than melancholy. But I glance at my surroundings, at the fenced- in grounds, at the magnificent architec- tural pile where lock and key reign supreme, at the faces innumerable stampel with disease or sorrow. And I| fancy I unders and very w1l indeed. i They crowd around me, these weary, | restless wails of life, whose one cry is that | which stirs all hearts, the cry for liberty. “You have not come here to s'ay?’’ asks You under- | tion with as many patients as I pleased, | | the reason why are slowly assuming a one sad-faced, white-haired woman. | “No. At 'east, not yel.' | The correction slins out unawares, an | outburst of the intense sympathy, the bond of common humanity that is throb- bing between me and my suffering com- panions. ““Ah,” she says simply, “I thought not. You lock happy.” “But you are not unhappy, living in this beautiful place?” “Perhaps not,” and she eyes me fur- tively, “perhaps not. Ob, to get out, if go—but I have nowhere o go.” Idare not trust my volce; my tears lie too near i'. hear from all, the wail of Stern’s starling: “I can’t get out’” Onetakes my arm gently. “Come away,” she says, “‘comeand talk with me and my friends where we can't be beard,” and her glance indicates the ! attendant. *You seem kind and we want | to talk to you sensibly; we’re not all in- sane, you know, even though we do hap- pen to be here.” It is an unexpected way of things and answer becomes “Weil, I suppose—I daresay—you are glad tostay here and rest?”’ “Some of usare not at all glad to stay here and do not require rest.” “No," breaks in another, ‘‘many a hus- band is glad to put his wife to rest in here while he lives with another woman,” and | she nods her head cheeriully, | This is sickeningly reminiscent of the sane tittle-iattle heard outside asylums. turn quickiy: “‘Tnis is surely not your case?”’ *Oh, dear, no; I have no husband to | complain o, but there is somebody else, a very bad nerson, who is glad 10 keep me here, and I am well now and ought to go away. Ialways earned my own living, | and I might just as well work outside as | here.”” putting just stay and see.” . Yes, I know. suffering had been coat and the padded cell, Have I not just seen a strong, laughing girl, who begzged me to *“come and see them soon,” strapped to her bench? If the Nancy school of cure-work gatn sway, if ortho- dox science and hypnotic suggestion join hands, we may po.8ibly see the day when violence need not be met by violence. Till then we are dependent on resiraints | which necessaiily seem cruel. “Anyway,” comments a voice beside me, “however nice the place may be, how would you like to be locked up with all think and reason, and yet always watched when you are outside, always locked up as scon as you go i, to live behind lock and key. to be locked at niznt, with others, into your bedroom, your clotbes taken away till morning. How would you feel 2 1 am perfectly satisfied that [ should feel very mad before many sunrises, but it would not be prudent to say so. Ophelia saunters back with her quiet smile. “For remembrance,”’ she rapeats, ‘‘ever- green. You understand the meaning?"” Then, looking toward my husband where he stands apart with pity in his eyes, “Ex- cuse me, but are you a minister’s wife?” “No, we write.” “Novels?”’ Novels ana newspaper articles.” “Ah, I write, too, sermons and verses— but only under inspiration. Good ser- mons, too, sent me by God. 1" (she pauses shyly), “I have written some verses to-day, but perhaps you have no time to look at them?"” I have plenty of time, and as I take a written paper from her she adds, still shyly: “I would like you so much to write your name; I like to remember a frieud’s name. Mine is—" w, I have promised not to ask any patieni’s neme, and I have an old-fasn- ioned prejudice against breaking my word. But [ certainly have not promised to refuse voiunteered information, and I exchange courtesies by producing a card from my pocket-book. Instantly there is a request for more; names are mentioned or hurriedly scribbled on bits of paper, addressed letters are slipped into my bag, again and again the petition strikes my ear, “Help us, we are in such trouble; be a friend 2nd help us to get out.” “She’ll do 1t,” cries one more sanguine than the rest. *“She’ll find a way of help- | ing us, she's an angel.”” | My angel eyes are very dim as I scan the penciled page of inspirational poeiry.” Perbaps thatis why I do not feel able to scan too critically. Of a truth the manner is halting, though it might compare favorably with some of Walt Whbitman’s. The matter is pure and noble as any uttered from the pulpit, and far more coherent than the average pro- duction of the paid “medium,’’ “‘Such beautiful thoughts shouid make you happy,” I say,as I glance at her placid face. “Yes, I am happy, that is why I stay here. I could go home tomy children, but I am better here, doing God's work. I ask your prayers!” “Has that woman really children to go to?” 1say to the attendant who is show- ing usround. Heis a kindly attendant, on very good terms with most of the pa- tients, exchanging jokes and giving them the newspapers they love to read. “‘Oh, true enough, but you see it is not so easy for her to get on with them at home; and they don’t want her. S.e has her own ways and she’s one of the sensi- ble ones, knows where she’s best off.” Is this one of the tests of sanity? I ask myself as I pass along, past '‘Queen Victo- i radiantly happy in scarlet turban, with flower-stalk scepter; past Peraita, her Jap full of blossoms, and Laay Mac- beth, with restless, stately walk, and Terpsichore, tripping and ambling and you only knew—to get out, to feel free to } It1s the same pitiful wail I] difficult: | I For though unnecessary | banished from -the | modern asylum, neither science nor phi- | anthrophy bave yet devised substitutes | for the strapped bed, the strait waist- | these people? To feel sane, to be able to | | where little domestic arrangements of 1 | painful position, would you or your hus- | tacle of? I know yon would, both of you, | “And then the cruel things that are | done here,” whispers one, “you should | | clously, “there is no need. | cheerful room with its blazing fire. | wize airy and henevolent of manner. Airy | poor sick child, that dear lovely child— humming as she goes. Herea merry maid | is rolling on the grass, giggling at nher secret joke, there a golden-baired eirl is smiling sweetly in happy dream. Isitin truth the sane or the insane who accep! their lot without resentment? On the | authority of the paternal doctor who rules this establisbment, sanity is synonymous with subjection of the emotions. What then?— A line of thought which brings me round to my private grievance sgainst this suave and paternal doctor who has biandly jockeved and hocussed me in a manner no wise conducive to the subjec- tion of my emotions. 1came tosee, not his establishment, but one particular patient therein. I have seen all his establisn- ment, have been allowed free conversa- always excepting the particular one I came to see. And my cogitations as to very antagonistic tone. For, within the last three days, a lady has been conveved to this asyium in ci cumstances which cailed forth much pri- vate sympathy and some public comment. Now, America happens to be a country this nature are not allowed to occur with- | out some kind of explanation. I was an accredited press representative, sent for a few moments’ quiet womanly conversa- tion with the iady, to judge from her own utterances whether the sympatby were’ wasted. As religious exaitation was the medical diagnosis, as the had been mov- ing freely in general society, the request to see her did not seem very outrageous— to outsiders. But it appeared very outrageous, in- deed, viewed from inside. When tne courteons medical assistant realized what I wanted, he quite forgot to subdue his emotions. Did I know Mrs. Wimble? Did my husband know Mr. Wimble, or had we | authority from him? No? Then what?— the press, indeed! Decidedly I liked that young doctor; he had feelings—and showed them. Medical authority notwithstanding, I believe in people with feelings; it suggests a human heart somewhere in the backgroand. Moreover, I excused him. for I also had feelings on coming to this deadlock and showed them. But after all, the decision did not rest | with him and we were still hopeful when | shown into the superintendent’s large ana | He | was large and cheery, like his room, like- | benevolence of manner seems invariably | to accompany the superintendence of large charitable institutions. It usually indi- | cates an adamantine will. “My dear lady,” lie protested, urbanely, settling us both in comfortable chairs, | ‘'you must see yourself that the thing is | impossible. I putittoyou as a humane woman—if you had a loved child in this band allow her to be made a public spec- ba the last to permit such a thing."” I demurred. The ‘‘public spectacle” | had already been aliowed. The question now was the possibility of correcting cer- | tain painful surmises which bad crept | into print. | Indeed? Was that the case? Thebland doctor knew nothing about it till I handed him a cutting from last week’s CaALL with | a portrait of Mrs. Wimble. There were other documents which I had no inten- tion of handing in. Vyell, Dr. Gardner considered this un- fortunate, the sort of misapprehension that will occur wherever newspapers ex- ist—nothing more. As for allowing thati | here the paternal tone became pathetic— to be intruded upon, nothing short of her husband’s authority would induce him to doit. She was here to be cured, nov wor- ried. This sounded plausible: ‘“Then you are | satistied that the case is one—"" “I have not gone into the case,’’ inter- rupts the doctor with as much testiness as a suave manner will admit; “there has veen no time for developments. I under- | stand that she 15 a religious visionary, but | as a ruie patients’ symptoms do not show at first.” | *Oh! but you see in this country, re- ligious peculiarities, visions, spiritual rev- | elations don’t usually come under the | head of lunacy. If they did, you would have the care of half our platform cele- | brities.” | He smiled indulgently: ‘‘Quite true. But so long as people’s crazes do not in- | terfere with their neighbor’s comfort and convenience we let them alone, however unhinced they y be.” *‘And has anybody suggested that Mrs. Wimble interferes with her neighbors’ comfort?”’ *Undoubtedly with her husband’s and ber family’s. My dear madam, you surely | understand that there are some things| not to be discussea with strangers. But | when a person forgets—ahem—ignores completely the duties owed to themselves | and others, when a person, ah, h’'m, in a | certain rank of life is oblivious of what we are taught to consider the decencies— in short yon mu-t admit that certain symptoms conclusively point to an un- healthy mental coudition requiring care.” The doctor was as suave as ever, but he was getting very tired of us. “As for the case,’’ he continued, ‘it will probably take time to develop. Possibly along time. I have known a patient re- main here, apparently sane and healthy, for weeks, even months. Then suddenly the wildest form of insanity has devel- | oped. We cannot watch too carefully.” Even a doctor in lunacy may be sarcastic unawares. “No, don’t go, he wound up, gra-‘ 1 want youto see the asylum and you must first have | dinner. Ishould wish yon and your hus- band to see everything and every one—ex- cept, of course, Mrs. Wimble.” We stayed. If Mrs. Wirable were not to be seen it was at least desirable to un- derstand the syster: which was to effect | her cure, by the usual “develop ment | method.”” And it was while waiting and | chatting, with all the craciousness society imposes on people who are exiremely an- noyed with each other, that the doctor aired his views on the subject of the ocmo- | tions. It appears that the child who is | taught to control his emotions will gradu- ally find them dim®nish in intensity till at last he develops into a man whose feel- ings are entirely under control. When that millennium arrives asylums will be comparatively empty and the world given over to sane folks and scientists. God | help the world! The ears of doctors in lunacy are not attuncd to that music, and probably in their hands Browning himself would have ‘“developed"” satisfactori'y. Indeed, poetry would not find room to turn in this medicsl sanctum where life's prose comes running in and out as we talk. One moment the doctor has to read a business document, the next he must go through some household accounts, bnt his chief tormentor is probably the cook with a grievance. This white-robad per- | keep within bounds, | ““profound and abstract | they might have “developed her case” WHY WITHIN NAPA'S WALLS? sonage burst suddenly into a disquisition on racial peculiarities with a piace of raw steak, which he thrust triumphantly under the medical nose. “What do you think of that, sir?’ he ried in petulant tones, 7 The doctor didn’t think much of the | smell. “'Sent back last night from one of the wards,”” protested Francatelli; “said not 10 be fit to eat; that's the style of thing I get. What do you say?”’ The doctor said he could probanly eat it himself if he were very hungry, There is no end to medical sarcasm, Thoughtlessly T approached this sym. pathetic matron on $he subject near my heart. I alluded to the religious exalta. tion case just admitted. Instantly the atmosphere ir ze, and an immeasurable d.stance was placed between the matron ana myeelf. She knew of no such case lately aamitted. “Would I like the asylum soon ?'’ The fiat had gone forth. 1 was hear a word about Mrs. Wimble. . over an asylum is a degree more dejres ing than going over a ho<pital: The o of Dante’'s “Inferno’” seem written oy each door as it is swiftly locked and locked. What can be the feelings of th who are not past feeling as they see them- selves immured, doomed to companion- ship which, of itself, accentuates own condition? True, that in the Nap: asylum mental help is provided. Tho- willing to wora can have thsir hands occupied, and household duties, laundry work, tailoring, carpentering, gardening are all executed by willing hands, who owners could not be trusted amid mord bustling scenes. But ah me, for those \ others unaccustomed to or incapable of manual labor! We passed through lonz, trim, comfortably furnished wards, sun shining in at the barred windows, flowers, and bere and there a sing ing bird, speaking of life and hope, but some faces in those wards would have made an angel weep. The saddest, the most pathetic cates wera they who looked hopelessly resigned. And everywhere the clinking, jarring sound of the key in the lock; everywhere the anxious, furtive glance as that key 1is turned and a momentary giimpse of the free, glad world obtained. 1 thought of the young religious enthusiast who had come here to be ‘cured,’’ and I shivered and quailed and thankfully jrined the women patients as they were freed for their daily siring in the garden. There were others in the inner quad- rang'e, whom I did not join. They im- mured these, che violent or obstreperous or unresigned, whom only brick walls can T noticed one, well dressed and ladylike, amid the unkeropt crowd. “Isshean attendant?” I asked. No; but she could not be trusted yet not torun away. She had not been in long. And now I am coming away, my task undone. The poor souls who have hatled me as a friend are waving adieu, the in- spirational writer is smiling peacefully, but the “inspired one” T sought is hidden away as untit for association. And in my hand I grasp tenaciously a letter which it would not at all please Dr. Gardner to read. The letter is from one whose veracity is not likely to be questioned. Florence Montague, the eloquent lec- turess of the Oakland Psychic Society, has a large and intellectual bodv of ad- herents, whom even doctors in lun feel bound to respect; and itis Florence Montague who authorizes me to publish the following statement: *Mrs. Lillian Wimble is not a subject for an insane asylum, for although labor- ing under a strong hallucination in mat- ters connected with religion, she appears sane and sound on every other topic. Moreover, in her conversations with me, she showed plainly that she was much more of a theosophist than a spiritualist, in fact her vocabulary is chiefly composed of the occult terms used by that fra- ternity, and her vagaries or unbalanced ideas are like the unsuccessful attempts of a child to grasp profound or abstract provositions. “A happy home and kind treatment is the required necessity to restore poise and brainy strength. Where are our brothers and sisters of the inner circle? They are concerned in the rescuing of this young student of their pnilosophy.” There is a ladv, named Annie Besant, who is generally believed to possess oue of the giant intellects of our time. Yet doctors in lunacy had had the hand of her when she was first grapplin Propo: f very successfully, to the world’s great loss. But there 1s other testimony to quote: The warder at the receiving hospital, Oakland, who had Mrs. Wimble for two days under his care, refuses to see any in- sanity in her case other tnan the ‘“‘delu- sions” common to ‘‘mediums” nd | “Christlan Scientists.” She believes her- self to be the subject of divine inspiration and she declines to be treated for an ex- ternal injury, deeming that faith should cure her. The Christian Scientists, there- fore, have some‘hing to think over if hers is to prove a State asyium case, But why, then, has Mrs. Wimblg witn her own consent, been sent tothe Napa asylum? The real answer falls from the lips of a sweet-hearted, pure-minded, white-heired woman, whose holy expres- sion and inspired prayer are well known on the religious platform. Her calm face glows with indignation, her motherly arms stretch out protectingly as you ask the question: “Mentallyill? Mad? Yes, in the sight of a husband and relatives who could not understand her pure aspirations. She i convenienc:d them. Her holy thoughts and ideals were a worry, a!most a re- proach, and she consented to be putaway since she could not satisfy her husband’s ideas of duty. Mad, that sweet girl-blos- som whose mind is as beantiful, as tender, as fragile as her fair, daintily dressed young body! She is Marie Corelli’s ‘Sara’ stepped out of ‘The Romance of Iwo Worlds.” The people who put her away would crucify Christ himselfif he returned to earth.” No doubt. And with him all saints and martyrs, all poets and reformers, all the salt to which our poor earth owes its savor. For sait of this kind gravitates toward unconventionalism. In this free land of America, which owes its very existence !0 the yearning for liberty to worship God, are we to al- low some of “‘God’s music’’ to fade away in a lunatic asylam, or shall we draw it thence to develop, in congenial air, into what may prove to be angelic sym- phonies? Ob, ye “‘cranks and dreamers, as the world holds you, ye unorthodorx who have, through prayer and mortifica- tion, entered into a life of higher aspira- tion, there iz some work left for ye to do. There is a weak, tuffering, misundersiood one to cherish and strengthen. Behind the locks of Napa Asylum, amid sorrow- ful scenes and vacant minds, a tender vl.:: struggles wearily after spiritual 4 That’s for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember.,”” Rose DE BoHEME.