The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 28, 1897, Page 16

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 28, 1897. 9 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMAGE. A Decorated Frieze Portray- ing Chaucer’s Chief Char- acters. Designed by Rob- ert Van Voist Sewell for George J. Gould’s new home at Lakewood, N.J. 2900900000222 2229990209098 099229222292229229299222287 . QU&‘SKU?SUZJHUJHWKFWKFUHW 1 un, 2 Prioress, | ¢ wes full simple and | was bu d Mada by Saint Eloy; e Eglantine. ¢ of religioun, son of a toun; THE MONK. A manly mau, to be a1 abbot able, Full many a dainty horsz haa he in stable. 5. This ilke monk let olde thinges pace, And held atter the newe world the trace. THE MILLI The milier was a stout carle for the nones, L GIOSPEL —I’veu-‘smws eme Court. When he got| derer from Oak- [ out of the death chamber and back | 4 is oneof D! s companions | into Murderers’ Row he commenced to | Murderers’ Xow, b ceeded in inter- | i demned men in his rest th 1 other con: WS, 1 er »nother was won e preaches to themall, | lack of interest and | U strangest world, for its Is his time Judges have tonce. Ever since murder of he, and hile Hill talks to tie condemned men Fellows spands his | time paci to and f:o, inhaling tne air and making the most of his few hours of comparative ireedom. | Hiull's audience is a strange one, and when he reads or ta'ks to them about re- | ligion they listen in rapt attention. Theolore Durrant is an interested lisener | | and one of Hill's best scholars. | It is a peculiar sight to see the mur- | derers, whose terrible deeds have black- | ened the criminal annals of the State to such an extent that nothing can wipe out n, standing beneath the dome of beaven and m : amends to the Father | for their misdee ineed the death prono Hiil the 1 and trought to San Quentin under sentence of was convicted of wife in O drath he has devoted his entire time to reading and studying the Bible. In fact so ardent have been his religious devo- tions thav the murderer was believed to have become a fanatic. When he was taken 10 the death chamber the week be- fore the date set for his execution in A gust he spent the entire time of his close confinement within the shadow of the| gallows i reading his Bible and talking religion to the death waich. Then he evaded death by an appeal to the United the Bivle in my | » Merle AT THE GALLOWS FOOT The men in Hill's class are Rico Mo- rasco, who murdered Donato Diluco on a rauch near Vacaville, and who is under se ce to be executed March 4, 1808; Harvey Allender, who shot his sweei- Leart, Miss Fielner, and Venanzo Cro- setti, ber companion, at San Jose, and who is to be hanged December 10, 1897; Theodore Durrant, the murderer of Blanche Lamont; Joseph J. Ebanks, who inated an ol couple near San nd who is to bs executed 1) :cem- 97; John Miller, a murderer from San Fruncisco; A. L. Knott, who killed Joseph Kuauer on Stevenson street, near Third, in the metropolis on July 6 of this vear. Knott is the most recent arrival in Murderers’ Row, and his ex tion is set for January 21, 1898; Manuel Chavez from San Diego County and Louis J. Searcy, a negro from San Bernardino County, whose case is upon appeal. Such are the desperate men who are kept away from the other convicts in San Quentin, and to whom Hill is teaching the gospel during the hours when th. are assembled in the prison yura for ex- ercis Ruxvyon. | | | every hour during the | twenty years in A MODERN RIP VAN WINKLE. Near the city of St. Charles, Minu., re- sides a sleeping wonder in tbe person of Herman Harms, who has spent nearly last eighteen or unconseious slumber, Mr. Harms has quite 2 family cf aduit children, and althcugh much money has been spent for the best of medical treat- ment and advice, no docior has vet been found who has been able to break the spell under which the <leeper rests. Heis given food by tender hands, but seems only par- tially aronsed when being fed, and on be- ing left alone at once again drops off to sleep. In fact, so hard is it to arouse him, | agreat part of his food has to be adminis- | tered in liquid form. When Harms went West, nearly twenty years age, he took up farming. Gradually the sieepin - spell grew upon him until he was unable to attend to his farm, and for a while, until his sons became old enough, the place was much neglected, and the in- come of the family, once prosperous, greatly diminished. This summer for a few days the sleeper thoroughly awoke and his jamily were in | hopes hix long slumber was at last broken. | But the awakening was but for a short t time; a few days and Herman Harms was | 1n a so.id sleep. The pulse of the sleeper is regular, | though stronger than that of the healthy adult. It fairly seems that the heart meant to burst the capillaries and drown that organ. Tne pulse over the temple is strong and the head is hot, while the i flesh is generally below the ordinary tem- perature. As he sleeps the eyelida biink, as if annoyed by the light, but tnis they always do. The usual position of the sleeper is on his left sjde, the left hana firmly against the brow. At the times when the sleeper awakens he isrational and shows that his mind is entirely un- clouded. Harms is now 56 years old. When the first symptoms of his trouble mads their appearance in 1875 the patient weighed 180 pound«; now he does not weigh more than one-half of thatr-about ninety pounds. He is, in fact, almost a living skeleton. His beard and hair are long, his features drawn, white and thin; the cheek bones look as if they would soon force their way through the covering of skin. Harms has s e ol As the Ex- ’ ueen‘ Once Looked. When Lilioukalani was younger than she is now, and never dreamed of a time her kingdom should be wrested from her, she was much given to hunting. It is not of record that she killed much game, but at least she wore a becoming costume and enjoyed the sport, ) S SN < T %fi_ ; N Full big he was of brawn, and eke of bones; A baggepipe could he blow and soune, And therewithal he brought us out of towne. 7. THE PARDONER. He had a cross of laton full as stones. And in a glass he hadde pigges bones. | 8. THE CANON (Astrologer). ! In clothes black, And under that he had a white surplice, | 9. THE FRIAR. 1 A Frere there was, a wanton and a merry, | A limitour, a full colemne man— i I 10. THE WIFE OF BATH. l Singing he was, or fluting, all the duy; A good wife was there of beside Bath. He was as fresh as was the month of May, But she was somewhat deai, and that was | | scathe. THE KNIGHT. A knight there was, and that a worthy man, Thot from the time that he first began To riden out, he loved chivalry, Truth and honour, freedom and courtesy 12 11. THE SQUIRE. A lover, and a lusty bachelor Embroidered was he, as if it were a meade A1l full of freshe flowers, white and rede, HUMOROUS ANECDOTES OF LOUIS JAMES “Speaking of humorous incidents,” said the newly arrived traveling man, as he watched a slow wending-funeral proces- sion trail its way through the mazes of Powell streer, ‘‘the strangest thing hap- pened in Denver.'” One may be forgiven for eavesdroppingin some cases. Natural'y one is fond of humor providing the joke is on the other fellow or carries with it some degree of distinc- tion. I have heard these jokes and have laughed with the rest aboutthe highly | decorative drinking fountain where there | is absolutely no water to drink, but if any | one of us were respensible for it we would not laugh so heartily. In fact, I fancy we should fsel a proper indignation toward humanity for not being able to forget the physical and satisfy the artistic thirst for the time. *Louis James had hada great many pe- culiar happenings ia his life,”” went on | the solemun-visaged gentleman, observing Mr. ticipation with reproval and not observ- ing me at all. He told me that he had been taken for the brother of the bandit, Jesse James, on several occasions. Once down South an old fellow sent 1n and asked to speak to Mr. James, and on meeting him announced that he had seen | the billposters and bad desired to stand face to face with the brother of so well- known a man since he could not see the brother himeif on accountof his forcible Friedlander's look of humorous an- | { departure from this mundane sphere. “Mr. James assured him that in the | name of his brother, the dead pandit, he | was glad to see him and entertained him | so well with tales of his ‘brother’s’ narrow | escapes and wonderful escapades, that the | ola genileman went away perfectly satis- fied and happy and ‘assured his friends and neighbors that the brother was very | nearly as great as the bandit bimseif. “It is remarkable how that man isequal to any emergency,’” went on the gentle- man, while the listener, for the first time in nis life, was silent. ‘It seems that Louis James’ father was an intimae friend of Abraham Lincoln and conse- quentiy, James being very young at the | 1ime of the war, was deeply imbued with patriotism and enlisied in the war. In the same company with the now wel!- known actor, was a young fellow about his age by the name of Drake. The two became iast friends and remained so dur- ing all the hardships and worse that had | to be endured during war time. | “But it so happened that they both met | a certain young lady, and like young men | will foolishly do, they both fell in love with ner. | ““You wouldn’t say 1t that way if the | lady were bere,” sagely remarked Mr. Friedlander, who generally knows. | *“‘Possibly not,’’ agreed the pessimistic | the Damon and Pythias friendship, they | upon the cause of their enmity. lgenflemnn, resuming the thresd of his| story. “But, at any rate, they both feil | nificant as to size and fashioned from silver. ‘When I found that vou were going to be in town, I determined to bring this up and see if you wouldn’t join me in burying it.” “They made an engagement for nextd at dusk. Judge Drake called for James in the little si tween them they drove to a quiet place just out g; of town, duz a hole with a spade w which they had provided themselves, and with humorous incanta- tions and witty remarks they buried the little silver hatchet and shook hands over the grave. «James really felt touched and Drake couldn’t get over it for days. You see, for twenty-five years they bad felt bitter toward each other, and, while time had somewhat caused them to forget the ex- treme bitterness of it, nevertbeless the feeling had been there.” “Good story,” ejaculated Mr. Fried- lander, to the solemn satisfaction of the other. “But,” I ventured, ““what became of the young lady ?” The gentleman ovened wide his eyes, but whether at me or the question I can’t say. in love with her, and as they couldn’t both marry her, and were not in the stage of quarreled very bitterly and swore to be constant enemies. Soon after that James left the company at Loui-ville, Ky.. and joined McCullough’s stock company, which was perhaps not quite so patriotic, but was more in bis line, ard he lost track of his enemy, and, aias for romance, of the girl, too. “Well, about twenty-five vears had passed and James had made himself pretty well known throughout the coun- trv. When he was in Denver the last time a card was taken into his dressing- room with the name of Drake neatly en- graved upon it. “The actor said he did not know any such person, although the gentleman sent additional word that he was an old friend. Finally, however, he recalied to mind the young man with whom he had quarreled, and he went out 10 meet him. “They went in and talked over oli times in the actor’s dressing-room. Drake had studied law at the close of the war, and now held a prominent position and was dignified by the title of Judge. The two men shook hands ovar their respective successes in the world, and finally touched private carriage, and “I have a littie haichet here,’ said Judge Drake exhibiting one, which he arew irom his coat pocket, very insig- obody knows,” he replied non- chalantly, and I inferred incidentally that nobody cared. Murten BArLey. A WARRE The movement in this city to erect a monument to the memory of Abraham Lincoln recalls to many an old soldier some personal recoliections of that great man. occurring during the war that came to my knowledge, though of trivial im- portance, may at this time be interesting. In the fall of 1864 we were stationea at Barrancas, Fla. General Builey of Red River fame, who bad just then been made a brigadier-general, was in com- mand of the post. When Banks made his second expedi- tion up Red River our fleet became star- tled by falling waters above the rapids, near Alexandria. Our forces were falling back, and it looked for a while as if the | only thing to be done was to destroy it. G ral Bailey was then, I think, a lieu- tenant in a Wisconsin or Minnesota regi- ment. He had b:en a lumberman. He proposed to build a dam to raise the water 0 as to float our gunboats over the rapids. His proposition was accepted and neces- sary means placed at his disposal. He did his work well. [ was there at the time and wituess d the operation. It was not a dam. It was simply confining the waters in & narrow channel. At any rate his work was successful. Our fleet passed the rapids safely and millions of dollars were saved to the Gov- ernment and the use of a fleet necessary to our operations, to say nothing of the prestige. He well earned his commission as brigadier-general. Attached to one of the colored regi- ments, then stationed at the post, was a voung lieutensnt, son of an old clergy- man in Maiue, a mere boy, hardly 20 years | Ours being the only Maine regi- | of age, ment at the post he visited us oiten and we came to know him well and to like him. His company was ordered off upon some service and had to embark early In the morning. He was upon the wharf directing its embarkation when a colored | woman, a hanger-on of the regiment, who did¢ washing for the officers, came to him inquiring for the captain of his company, MINISCENCE An incident quite characteristic | | who, it seems, owed her & bill for washing | The licutenant started with her to go aboard the boat to find the captain, and as they were going up the gangplank, prob- ably from timidity she caught hold of his |arm. It was at this moment that General | Bailey, who was airing his new honors | early in the morning and who had just | arrived, caught sight of them and im- mediately placed the lieutenant under ar- | rest. At the next evening dress parade of each regiment at the post the order was read dismissing Lieutenant So-and-so from the service. I was then acting as judge advocate of acourt-martial and he naturally came to | me tox advice. Ido not think I have ever | seen any person in such mental distress. | The thought that this disgraceful story shouid go home to that quiet village in Maine seemed more than he could bear. | Ladvised him to go to Washington and lay the case before President Lincoln. | Together we drew up a plain statement | of the facts. We got letters from officers | of his regiment supporting this statement | and with these ho leit for Washington. It was late in an afternoon and we were in the hurry and bustle of preparations for a move, for which we had received orderse when he came into my quarters. His first salutation was: “Cantain, can you let m have a saver? I havelost my sword.” 1 furnished him with a saber and heard a brief account of his trip to Washington. As he reiated, he had no difficulty in get- ting there nor in gaining access to the President. He was ushered into a room | where the President was busy writing. | He stood for a moment by his side, when the President, laying down his pen, lift- ing bis spectacles upon his brow and turn- | ing his mourniul eye full upon him, said: “My son, what can I do for you?" He had prepared some words in which | to address the President, but in the light | of those kindly eyes they vanished from his memory and all be could say was, and | he could have said nothing better, “Mr. | President, I want justice,” and he burst | into tears. Motioning to a seat, the Presi- five children, none of whom shows any signs of the terrible malady which bolds their father to his bed. Many different opinions have been ex- pressed by the numerous physicians who have attended the case unsucces:fully. Poweriul electric batteries have been ap- plied to the body, the only effect of which was to cause a slight contraction of the muscles of the body. The disease has been variously denominated as heart troutle, softening of the bran. BrizhUs disease of the kidneys, complication of troubles and the use of too much guinine. Harms is fed about once in twenty-four hours—sometimes only oncein forty-eight nours. In the partakingof food he is very frugal, refusing any dainties that sympa- thetic friends and neighbors may offer him, saying that & slice of buttered bread isenough for him. In fact, his digestive organs have become o weakened that to eatanything moresubstantial would prove barmful. | Mr. Harms is ofa religious turn of mind, and on acconnt of religious scruples has refused many good financial offers from managers of museums, The family abso- lutely refuse to give out Harms' picture for publication, and, in truth, do not de- sire any notoriety in the matter. The man shows tremendous vitality to have lived in his unusual and unnatural condition so long, and it seems now surely that his days must be very nearly numbered. Dissertation on Free Lunchl The free lunch is s combination of jarring abominations—a medley of diet- etic discord. Tamales and glaced fruit, charlot'e russe and hamburg steak may be found side by side with utter disregard for the articles that match and a total abhorrence of culinary harmony. In the cheaper lunches, however, variety gives place to euphony unuil we have that delicious blend Frankfurter and sauer- kraut—the Siamese twins of the free lunch counter. Standing asa rivalof the sauerkraut ana its accompaniment’ we discover the clam. Who is the author of clam juice and the publisher of clam- chowder? The clam is called a gastropod, because his one ijoot is joinea to his stomach. When he commits suicide by crawling into the path of the clam digger bhe is said to die by nis own foot. Among other help: to the mercy seat that the free Iuncn affords we find that olfactory nighimare Limburger cheese. The man who eats this fearful compound does £0 under the delusion that an insult to the nose is a compliment to the stomach and that the aroma of a Chinese laundry is more nourishing than the fragrance of a hothouse. The patron of Limburger may not eat much, but when it comes to aroma he’s an insatiable glutton. The amputated footof the pig may also be found reposing on tbe lunch counter—likewise the decapitated head of the deceased calf. The free lunch also bas its place in literature—as without it many oi our finest poems would never have been written. Many a poet has taken 1u the inspirations of nature and free lunch simultaneously. Many a - world-weary humorist has it nourished during the formation period of a joke. In fact itis one of the greatest promoters of literature of the present time and future students of bell s-lettres should not neglect the important part occupied by the free lunch in the prose and poetry of th- nineteenth century. Nick Bowpexn. e “Strike one!" yelled the umpire. *Yes, why don't he strike one?” asked the innocent young lady who had watched the man at the bat assault the atmosphere nine times during the game. e Some men are so absent-minded that they go to bed every time they dress for church, OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN dent said, “Sit down, my boy, and We | poem as sublime as any that attuned the will see ” | harp of David. Taking his papers, heexamined them | But the one quality perhaps of all others carefully, made some personal inquiries | that most conduced to the sucgess of his and indorsed upon the envelope: “Ex- |administration and to bring us success. amine this case and report without un- | fully thfough that terrible conflict was his necessary delay. A. Lixcory.” | knowledge of the people, his nearness to This he directed him to take to Judge | them, his sympathy with them. Advocate General Holt. He did so, and | Bu! this is not the occasion, nor have in a few days was restored to his com -| we ihe purpose nor ability, io discuss the mand. character or work of Abraham Lincoln. This incident i3 interestine, not only as | Much has been writien concerning bim— illustrating the character of Mr. Lincoln, | much, we think, still remains to be said but as showing the aimost unlimited | and that must be ieft to sowe future Car- power possessed by our generals in the | lyle or Macaulay. field over the lives and fortunes of their subordinates. The beauty and merit of Lincoln’s writ- ings have been extolled by some of our foremost literary men. With what sen- | tentiousness, what beauty and sublimity | he has consecrated for all time our dead at | Gettysburg. His second inaugural is a in the affairs of mankind, whose names are emb azoned upon the pages of history, admirable character that, since Christ, the world has ever seen. 8. W. KNowLgs. New Fireman's Monument. mib gl it RS In the year 1895, about the month of June, the Association of Veteran Firs Zouaves selected a monument committee for the erection of a monument at Gettys- burg, Pa., and after looking around for a long time and trying various designers, ghey selected a design. The foundation, built of Gettysburg granite, rises six inches out of the ground and has a base nine feet by seven. The pedestal proper of the monument is made of the finest Barre grani‘e of Vermont. The bottom base is seven by six feet, and two fest high and has finely cut margins. The balance of the finish is rock-faced. The second ha§ afinely cut top, otherwise the same treatment as bottom base, rock-la;ed. The die of the pedestal has four bronze tablets, giving the record of the regiment and the battles in which it fought, and recording the main incidents of the battle of Gettysburg. The group surmounting the whole is of bronze, and is composed of two figures—a fireman with a speaking-trumpet and a soldier with his musket, and ex- empiifies the idea of a valiant fireman ready toreach the hand of the soldier to do service for the Union, w . ver hatchet cozily nluceA Of all who have borne the scepter or the sword, who have taken a prominent part he stands to-day the grandest, the most Y4