The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, January 30, 1898, Page 21

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, JANUARY 30, 1898. QUEER COUNTRY WHERE EVERYBODY GOES ABOUT ON STILTS. HERE are people in this world who live and move and have their being on stilts. This is a whole community of people, and not & community of small bo: eithe: noving about on extra-lorig wooden le for the fun of the thi They live seriously and ear- and go about their business in town and suburb elevated on s The place of their livir in France, and is called the Landes—a bit of grim hu- there is not a particle of good hywhere about it. It co chiefly of vast prairies and marshes bally with heath, furge, :1 nd broom, and varied with clumps of sea pine, acacia, oak and cor] The ¢ of the country is such that th habitants discovered very early : could get over it much better on and around stilts than they could afoot. Hence their high lif; It is a str > sight to see the post- man advance to the door, towering several feet above the proper height, and gravely bearing the mail, and walking calml and without difficulty over the gate post in his leaving, and the peasant woman, her market bas- ket carefully stowed out of the way and her stiits properly adjusted, goes proudly down the streets in search of cabbages and potatoes with perfect ease and confidence. The shepherd, high in the air on his long stilts, fol- lows his flock in the same fashion; the children go to school on stilts, and the resin collector, as he passes suc- cessively from each pine forest, takes his walk in the prevailing fashion. In short, everyone goes about on stilts. 1f a man, woman or child isn’t on stilts in Landes everybody turns around to look at him or her as some sort of a freak. In Landes there are fashions in stilts Just the same as there are fashions in shoes in the ordinary world. Generally all are of equal length, so that no man nor woman, walking along thg streets of Landes, can look down upon his fel- low, but the richest and the poorest must be of the same height. This is as it should be, for when one Landes citizen meets another on the street or afield he wants to meet him on the level, even if it is high up in the air. When on their native heath the long stick carried by the stilter bec third leg, fitting into the stiltel and supporting him on a sc whil: with his disengaged rapidly knits one of the footless ings peculiar to the Landes. fellows have great distanc hence the stilts. The bracken heather are often wet and the plains swam hence, again, the stilts. The sheep are often concealed among the undergrowth; hence—for the third time —the stilts. Naturally this daily life on stilts has bred a sort of rivalry in stilt walking, running and jumping, just the same as ordinary foot exercise in ordinary lands has led to six- walking matches, 100-yard dashes and other kinds of ped- Anyone who is a novice in stick wear and the use of stilts has no idea what a man or woman can ac- complish after spending several years reaching over the earth with them. Jack in his seven-league boots would have a hard job trying to keep up with an indiarubber stilt expert trying to get half a dozen refractory hogs into a Landes pen. the first of the great annual stilt races began. t has grown in popularity ever since, till now the day is an occasion for a grand fete, and curious outside mortals as well as the d inhabitants of Landes travel far and eagerly to see it. Men, women and children take part in these races, di- vided into the three classes. In the eventful and record race of 1892, which has been followed in out- line ever since the course for men was from Bordeaux to Bayonne and Biar- ritz and back to Bordeaux (302 miles); and for women, from Bordeaux to Ce- rons and back (37 miles). The first prize in the big race was 1000 francs and a silver-gilt medal; the second, 500 francs and a medal; and the third, 250 francs and a medal. To these must be added any number of class medals and money prizes offered by institutions and clubs, and a vast quantity of mis- cellaneous goods offered by tradesmen with an eye to advertisement. The committee decided, first, that the stilts might be as long or as short as the competitor pleased. Second, he might carry a stick, clothes, provisions, repairing implements, or a change of stilts. Third, he might dismount now and then, but in such cases he must carry his stilts, and must, moreover, be mounted on them when he presented himself at the “control posts.” There were control posts (generally cafes or hotels) established at twenty- two villages en route, and each of these stations was manned by cyclist volun- teers belonging to various great clubs. These gentlemen received the stilters passed through, taking signa- nd recording times. Doctors n waiting at some of the control d there were also representa- ‘first aid” societies to attend to stilters with cut or swollen feet. Owing to the great number of entries, it was arranged that each Landais commune should elect its champion and pay his expenses right through. An ex- pense fund was, however, started later on, so that each competitor was at least sure of receiving his raillway fare to and from Bordeaux. The interest taken in the race was manifested by the great crowd, who not only filled the streets, but also the bal- conies and windows of private houses, cafes and hotels. Here is an idea of the magnanimous way in which shopkeepers offered prizes: A tailor on the Cours d’Alsace- Lorraine,announcing himself as a lover of all sports, offered “his finest suit of clothes made to order.” Other sar- torial artists followed suit until at length it looked as though the peasants from the Landes would all return home in new clothes. The municipality of Bordeaux contributed 100 francs and two medals. One, Pelala, a merchant of Bergerac, offered “twelve bottles of my nourishing Anisette.” A man at Barsac would give a glass of Haut Sauterne to each stilter, whom he would not detain more than five seconds. A bronze medal was offered to all com- petitors who, starting off on Thursday, May 26, when the flag fell, returned to the starting point, after having accom- plished the journey, on Thursday, June 2, before 9 p. m., Paris time. The number of medals offered by va- rious bodies increased at quite an alarming rate. There was one for the youngest stilter who accomplished the journey in the specified time; and an- other for the oldest. There were med- als offered by various towns en route for the first stilter to arrive there; and there were medals for the champion of the Departments of the Landes and Gi- ronde. . One enterprising firm, not to be out- done, offered a prize of 50 francs for the last stilter who should arrive at the post before the closing of the race. The keeper of the Anglo-American bar of- fered to each competitor “two excel- lent ham sandwiches.” A private en- thusiast placed at the disposal of the winner a gorgeously furnished flat, with the use of bathroom and masseur. Watchmake! perfumers, bootmakers, hatters, and, in short, tradesmen of all kinds, sent along or promised speci- mens of their wares to the valiant stilt- ers. There were in all eighty-one entries and sixty-nine starters; thus twelve forfeited the entrance fee. In the In- terval between the first announcement and the race, intending competitors had gone into training. When at length all competitors were marshaled in line a pistol was fired, and the queer caval- cade set off leisurely down the beauti- ful Cours de I'Intendence, or Regent street, of Bordeaux. Although the men had bits of rubber on the ends of their stilts to deaden concussion, they suffered greatly from a kind of paralysis of the legs, and also sore and chafed feet. Every care was taken of them, however. At Biar- ritz, Pierre Deycard of Bilos (the first prize winner), was treated with an eau de Cologne and brandy friction by the head controller, who happened also to be a doctor. During the progress of the race there was but one question on the lips of the Bordelais: Who will win? It was doubtful all through. Dominique Rou- megoux of Ychoux held the lead for a long time and was terribly anxious to win, his master having promised him, in that event, 100 francs over and above everything else. On arriving at Dax, Roumegoux had = noticeable fix- ity of expression, through lack of sleep; whil= his immediate rivals, Dugrand and Peyserre, arrived quite gay, the latter dancing a pas seul on his stilts, after signing at the control post. aud exchanging news with great volubility and vivacity. Poor Jean Cailliard, the oldest man who took part in the race, was utterly done up when fifty minutes). He arrived on his stilts with a firm and rapid step. He was ac- companied by a crowd of cyclists and pedestrians, who sang and cheered him alternately. Dubet had rather a bad fall through the breaking of his left stilt when only a few hundred meters from Villan- drant. He was delayed some time making the necessary repairs. Pierre Deycard of Bilos, commune of Salles, department of the Gironde, the se winner and champion, won t valuable of all the many besides 1000 francs and the lion’s share of the minor prize money and gifts in kind. His number was fifty-one and his age 31. He arrived on May 30, at two minutes to 5 in the evening, only a few hours ahead of La- font. His time was 103 hours 36 min- utes, and his average 4 kilometers 938 meters an hour, including stops. His was a veritable tour de force. terribly anxious to win. His NEW USE FOR THE BIGVCLE. AUTOMATIC SURVEYING BICYCLE IN OPERATION RECORD OF RAPID BICYCLE SURVEY. The newest use of the bicycle is as a surveying machine. Not merely a ma- chine to carry a surveyor from point to point, but as a machine which performs in itself the mechanical part. of the surveyor's work. The United States army is con- sidering the advisability of adopting this machine as to tactics. By means of an attachment the exact topographical ch f a road may be ascertained, with no other exertion on the part of the surveyor except a ride along the road in question. The rider may travel as : likes or as slow as he likes, but when he has finished his trip. eve . hill or hollow will have been accurately marked off on a long strip of which is part of the attach- ment in question. On this strip of paper the exact height of the hills and depth of the hollows are indicated. The importance of the invention in milit Hereafter a general contemplating a march out the exact topography of a road over which the army is to pass. taking his wheel, can ride on ahead and return in a short time w in the way of heav wagons can be known and provided for long before the trc Or while the army is on the march the en file of the road so that every obstac way. practice can be easily appreciated. an order his chief engineer to find The engineer, h an exact pro- ordnance or supply s even start on their » ahead and leave his records at various stations along the road, his general thus being able to have placed before him, en route, the exact description of the road ahead of him. Under orders from General Gobin of the Third Brigade Pennsylvania militia, a survey of the Yoad around Hazelton, Penn., connecting all the camps and the strategic points, was recently made. A method of rapid road sketching was adopted, and 49.22 miles were surveyed by means of a bicycle equipped with a cyclometer and a compass. It required ninetegn hours to do this alone, and the distances and directions were then drawn out on paper. The elevations were all derlyed from barometric levels. This work occupied a great many hours, and yet the ‘survey was so quickly made as to establish a new record for rapid work. The device is the invention of John Riddell, the mechanical expert of Sche- nectady Y. It is simple enough. It consists primarily of two parts, a cylin- der revolving mechanism to carry the strip of paper on which the record is made, and a device to make the record. The cylinder revolving mechanism is a slender, horizontal shaft. The cylinder is turned by means of a belt attached to the crank axle of the bicycle. As the cylinder turns the strip of paper is unrolled from a spool. The marker, hanging by means of a pivot and controlled by a complemen- tary mechanism, adjusts itself to the position of the bicycle. When the bicycle runs down a hill, the marker moves toward the lower edge of the paper strip: when the bicycle mounts a hill, the pointer travels toward the upper side of the paper. Naturally, the movements of the paper are in proportion to the size of the prominence or declivity along which the bicyclist is moving. The paper on which the record is made is marked off *in parallel, horizontal lines. The scale is gauged so0 that every foot marked off on the paper represents 792 feet of road. The ver- tical scale is 400 to one, so that if a hill shown on the paper strip is one inch high, the real hill of which the marking is a minlature picture, is 400 inches high. It is thus very easy to calculate the distance and height of every grade passed over. he arrived at Orthez, 18 kilometers from the starting point. He hustled off to bed, poor chap, and went home by the 4 o'clock train next day, weep- ing over his fate. There was a vast deal of excitement in Bordeaux from day to day during the race. The offices of the daily pa- pers were besieged day and night by a surging crowd, which eagerly read the telegrams and betted on the out- come. Sometimes the stilts broke, al- though they were made of strong ash. The men wouléd then halt for repairs and seize the opportunity of taking a meal—soup and fried eggs, perhaps, with coffee and white wine. The whole race was a triumphal progress for the lucky Landais, who certainly never be- fore had had such a good time. First arrivals at various control posts were presented with bouquets, laurel wreaths and more substantial tokens in the shape of free rations and money. Others frankly touted for contributions in the towns, and made a grand thing of it. Lafont won a silver gilt medal and 500 francs, and Dugrand a medal and 250 francs, besides a substantial share of miscellaneous prize money and goods. Roumegoux, the Landais shep- herd who strove so earnestly to win, received a consolation prize of a medal and 125 francs. Lafont, at the close of the race, sold his stilts (which he made himself, as they all do) to a shop- keeper on the Cours de I'Imtendance. Clearly the unsophisticated peasants “knew something.” At any rate, La- font had covered on his 112 kilometers in sixteen hours. His number was nineteen, and of course—like the rest— he carried a book of rules for his guid- ance, as well as a map of the course. Lafont is 28 years of age. He finished the race on May 30 at 9:38 p. m., his time being 108 hours 16 minutes. Dugrand, Lafont’s companion for the greater part of the way, reached the winning post at twenty minutes past 2 in the morning of the 3lst (112 hours . short snatches of sleep were broken by dreams, in which he seemed to be buy- ing cows with the prize money and set- tling down to married life with his sweetheart. At St. Vincent de Terosse he was followed by musicians, who played “La Marseillaise” with so great an effect upon the crowd that one gave him 10 francs, another 20, and so on. At Dax he found great crowds waiting for him. He was too fatigued to no- tice them, and had to ask his cycling escort to roar at him in order to keep him awake. He even dozed on his stilts, still striding mechanically. Cam- phorated brandy frictions were tried, to get rid of the cramp that threatened him. Young girls came out to meet him with laurel wreaths and bouquets, and he was given a general triumph and escorted home by his jubilant stilt walking friends. It was the greatest day in the history of stilt walking. Landats and even the stilt walking baker still talks about it as he delivers the bread to the stilt walking servant girl. A MINISTER'S LIFE IN PIONEER TIMES. By Rev. S. H. Willey. EV. 8. H. WILLEY, for many years past a resident of San Francisco, was the first Presbyterian clergyman to come to this State. He was a passen- ger on the steamer California on her first trip up from the Isthmus, and landed at Monterey, then the seat of the Territorial Government, the headquarters of a detachment of the regular army, and the niost important town on the coast, February 23, 1849. Not many months after this he married the charming sister-in-law of one of the army officers, and for forty-eight years the two have lived and labored together. Retired from active service now, they are spending the twilight of their days in an ideally happy home. An hour spent in their entertaining so- ciety gives one a very realistic idea of California life fifty years ago, as it cen- tered about a clergyman and his fam- ily. “When I came to Monterey,” says Mr. Willey, “there was no Protestant church in all California, and po scnodl other than Mission instruction. I held services in a hall with a small congre- gation, composed for the most part of women, the wives of officers and sol- diers, and a few civilians. The gold fever was of course very high, and the soldiers gave their superiors a great deal of trouble by deserting at every opportunity and going to the mines. Supplies were very costly, and the cir- culating medium was nuggets and goose quills filled with gold dust. “In September of that year (1849) the Constitutional Convention to form the State Constitution was convened in Monterey, and the session lasted for thirty days. I was chaplain of that convention and took a great interest in its work, the result of which endured for thirty years. “The capital being changed to San Jose and the army post being moved to Benicia caused a general exodus of the English-speaking people from the pretty little seaside town, which had been so full of life and business, and I came with others to San Francisco. “This city was the busiest place imaginable for the next few years. No one had any time for anything but money-making in some form or other, and the population was composed of excited crowds of strangers, constantly changing as to personality, and inter- ested in each other only as means to the desired end of financial success. “In May, 1850, I started the Howard Presbyterian Church in a building sit- uated on Natoma and Jane (now New Montgomery) streets, in what was then known as ‘Happy Valley.” This was a sort of an oasis, a pretty little resi- dence quarter in a setting of trees and chaparral and grass, sheltered from the winds, and separated from the business portion of the town, by the immense sand dune which extended from what is now Haight street to below Second. 'The houses were what is known as ‘knock-down’ affairs, che frames being made and accurately fitted in the East and then sent out here in conveniently portable form ready to be set up al- most as easily as children’s block houses. W. D. M. Howard, Captain Folsom and Samuel Brannan were the men who had them made and brought here, and it was an excellent invest- ment for them, for, although they con- tained only seven small rooms, they rented for $150 a month and were never empty. “One of the advantages of life in Happy Valley was its immunity from the disastrous fires which from time to time swept over the other parts of the city. The business portion of the town was composed of flimsy wooden buildings lined with cheese cloth, and many tents, and a fire once started was apt to run for blocks. Four or five times the central part of the city was burned completely over, at a loss of hundreds of thousands of dollars, and an alarm of fire struck terror to every heart. “I well remember the second Sunday after our church was opened that just as 1 had begun service the fire bells started ringing and every man in my congregation rose and went out, leav- ing me in the midst of my prayer. I remember, too, that as soon as that prayer was ended 1 left the church my- gelf and spent the rest of that day fighting fire with ail my might. “Gambling houses were a great fea- ture of the city at that time. Three sides of Portsmouth square were bounded by such establishments, and they were crowded day and night right along. Miners and adventurers of all kinds frequented them, and enormous sums of gold changed hands there con- stantly. “Much of my time was spent in local heme missionary work, for, plenty as gold was, there were many cases of ac- tual distress. There were not a few families whose breadwinners were at the mines, and many sick, unfortunate and disappointed persons who had no friends to care for them. To search these out was my special task, and I am glad to say that I never lacked for means to carry on this work. Those who were prosperous were only more than willing to give me funds to dis- tribute to the needy. They had no time to attend to such things themselves, but they had money in plenty, and they gave it freely. “Another part of my work was visit- ‘ing the dying and burying the dead. No matter how reckless and even wick- ed a man's life might have been if he had any time in which to prepare for death he always wanted a clergyman beside him at the last, and made a dy- ing request for Christian burial, and I did my best at all times to carry out their wishes. During the cholera vis- jtation in the fall of 1850 my work in this line was very onerous. A remark- able thing about that cholera season was that the generality of San Fran- ciscans did not seem to be at all alarm- ed over it. They were too busy and preoccupied to give the fact of its ex- istence in their midst more than inci- dental attention, but many poor fellows died of it and of the fevers which were so prevalent during those years of ex- citement, personal carelessness and un- sanitary conditions. “In 1850 the Protestant Orphan Asy- lum was started by Mrs. Dr. J. H. ‘Warren over in Happy Valley to care for the children whose parents had died in crossing the plains, and the institu- tion was well supported from the first. People could afford to be generous when the most incapable household help commanded $20 a week and more. “One peculiarity of a minister’s life in those days was that he had to attend not only to spiritual but to material matters. He had to take a leading and practical part in the affairs of every daylifeand was kept as busy in his own way as the merchants and miners and gamblers were in theirs. We took an especial interest in politics, for the rea- son that the affairs of the city drifted into the hands of the worst class in the community because of the indifference of the better class in regard to civic matters. They ‘hadn’t time to attend to anything but their own private busi- ness’; that was the excuse of the mer- chants and solid men of the town, and it was the clergymen’s self-appointed work to combat this state of things and put matters on a better basis. “There were seven or eight Protest- ant clergymen in San Francisco after the first, and we all worked together in perfect harmony for the moral, educa- tional and personal wellbeing of her citizens. “All the memories .of the unrestful stir and confusion and feverish excite- ment which made the life of those ear- ly days are overshadowed by the mem- ory of the good deeds that were done, the good institutions that were founded and the good spirit that prevailed among the exponents of different creeds, who met here on the broad plat- form of real love and true benevolence to their fellow men.” —_————————— The origin of the term ‘‘deadhead” is thus accounted for in Leopold Wag- ner’s volume on “The Significance of Names": “Fifty years ago the principal ave- nue of the city of Detroit (U. S. A.) had a tollgate close to the Elmwood Cemetery road. As the cemetery had been laid out some time previous to the of the plank road, it was arranged that all funeral proces- sions should be allowed to pass along the latter toll-free. One day, as Dr. Rice, a well-known physician, stopped to pay his toll, he said to the gate- keeper: ‘Considering the benevolent character of our profession, I think you ought to let us pass free of charge.” 0, no, doctor,’ replied the man. ‘We can’'t afford that; you send too many deadheads through here as if ‘This story, as related by the doctor himself to his friends the same even- ing, soon traveled far and wide, and ever afterward those persons whose occupations entitled them to travel free on ilroads, steamboats and public vehicle: to admittanca to places of amusement without charge, received the name of ‘deadheads.’” WONDERFUL POWERS OF A Only three years and a half old and she makes strange coming events. ITTLE Winifred Cline of Chi- cago is one of the most remark- able babies of the age. Although only three and a half years old she is a psychic wonder, possess- ing powers of foretelling events with an accuracy which is little less than marvelous. Her prophecies have been confined entirely to the home cir- cle, and it must not be imagined for an instant that little Winifred is be- ing exploited as a public character. No public exhibitions of her strange pow- ers have been made, nor are any likely to be made. She is simply a little girl to whom the mysteries of the future are as an open book. During the late Presidential campaign, gays the Tribune, Winifred employed her prophetic powers in pre- dicting the election of Major McKin- ley. Mr. Cline and Mr. McNally, his father-in-law, were ardent supporters of the cause that the majority sub- sequently decided to be mistaken. Like all Bryanites, they felt and expressed the utmost confidence that their can- didate would succeed. With the Cline home full of unopposed Bryan argu- ment and prognostication, and Wini- fred never hearing any question made as to the correctness of the statements, it occasioned her family some little sur- prise when she took it upon herself to champion the cduse of McKinley. “Mr. Bryan will not be elected,” she firmly asserted. “Mr. McKinley will be the next Presiden: They tried to talk her out of the idea, but she persisted in it resolutely. At the time ‘when she first made the statement she was just completing her second year. Mr. Cline’s business not infrequently calls him out of the city. During such absences it is his habit to write to his family at regular and frequent inter- vals. In one case not long ago the letter was not received when it was expected. Mrs. Cline was disposed to be anxious, and told Mrs. McNally that she could not understand why ‘“‘Sam” had not written. Mrs. McNally as- sured her daughter that pressure of business was undoubtedly the cause of Mr. Cline’s failure to write the night before, and expressed confidence that they would hear from him the next morning. “But he wrote last night,” objected ‘Winifred, who was listening. The two ladies said that if he had done so the letter would have reached them with the first delivery in the morning. The child refused to alter her statement, whose truth was proven in the letter received that af- ternoon. The writing had been done on the previous evening, as was shown in the letter. There had been a delay in mailing. BABY SEERESS. predictions of W. A. Dcugherty, secretary of the Chicago branch of the Theosophical So- ciety, after hearing a description oy Winifred’s performance, without hesi- tation declared her girted with psychie power. “Such cases occur,” sald Mr. Doughe erty, “where the subject meets exacts ly the necdssary conditions, spiritual and physical. The conditions require & certain perfect harmony between a per- fectly sensitive spirit and a perfectly healthy body.” Mr. Dcugherty had not been informed of the child's exception« al health. “When the gift is properly cultivated it develops into a sou.ce of almost indefinite power. I the child were mine I should consider her a jews el of inexpressible value. On another occasion Winifred in- formed her grandmother that they would go together that day to visit Mrs. Charles Vail, an acquaintance of the family. Mrs. McNally said the visit would be impossible, as Mrs. Vail had lately moved and had not yet told Mrs. McNally her new address. This did not disconcert Winifred in the least. She did not say that she thought she and her grandmother would go to Mrs. Vail's; she was se- renely and unshakably sure of it. A few minutes after the discussion, the postman, on his morning round, de- livered a letter. The letter was from Mrs. Vail, stating that she was set- tled in her new home and inviting Mrs. McNally to bring Winifred to spend with her the day on which the letter was recelved. Acceptance of the invitation verified the augury. In general appearance Winifred Cline is anything but the seer described by tradition. She is plump, rosy and pret- ty—an image of perfect health. She does not go into long trances or shut herself off from the company of other people. On the other hand, she is vast- 1y interested in dolls, picture books and the rest of the fixtures of a well-regu- lated child’s life. Her predictions often are made in the midst of play. She will pause a moment, assume a serious expression, deliver her statement and continue her sport. The entire inter- ruption seldom cccupies as much as two minutes.