The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, February 6, 1898, Page 23

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 189S. an odd little man who lives in HERE |is 1 Ech 1 little h busiest knock its a re- and a total your gloves, ded by the g your wa. ‘gppmes ldom el You tell s, and he > open in with O be a mysterious stranger in a vard of green biege, with a “slen- , dark robed figure,” and lily ite h. and to * by in the shadow s no trick at all. To th articles, with no a blouse waist and and to board the it, s E is, how- t a little person In for is car system and mportance, with pe- but she at she spending » and down the b > metrc of th 1ssengers and cash. Hers Is a position and a hard one to polis to s = the performance of her strange du- ties is something that requires much and tact. little person has by no means ating ‘‘snap” some boy or girl PTING THE CONDUCTOR TO TALK. © ight think when they learn that she really “rides for nothing” all day long, with nothing to do but to use her eyes and her brains. She must be sharp to fill her place so acceptably to all par- ties concerned except one. The latter party does not know who she is, when | f | be 1 handle | without being detected in her turn, | came from the north as early as forty-six And the ~cats! v ne where there vellow eves f m a peer nook manner, begging vou to stroke them. more adven- e than the 2mbly runs skirts, | “Get down from there, Jim,"” s guide in his soft German accent. must not bother the lady.” ~As he places Jim on the floor I tell him that 11 . and that Jim doesn’t bother me in the least. The kind old face ms at me as he ushers me into an- room where the meat is cooking. rou will wait I will bring some of here,” he /s, and a few later he returns with cats of 1 description: he s pointing to a low and white kittens. the city " stroking friends. This holding up z diminutive specimen, “is a plucky little one. onged to a well-known man in The mother and the Kittens ving hide and seek. This one “high wall and fell over forty s brought him to me at once, over five days he couldn’t move. ught him throus gh, doesn’t he?” feet. and 1 finally br simply. don't W kitty 2" right, down on his knee and purred her an- + 1 see enough of them to like them,” or 1 feed between 150 and This,” pointing to A | a huge basket, “'I take full of meat, and | always been the most given over to the | all right. | at can in t the corner is filled with milk. I go first to the warehouses on the docks, and then come further up town to the business houses. “No, I do not often sell a cat. raise them,.train them for a while and then place them in some warehouse or store, where the services of a cat is necessary. Then for so much a month I take care of them. Would you like to see where they play? If you will come this way I'll show you.” He opened a door and took me into a queer little court. Three sides of | the inclosure are banked by buildings as old as the house where the cats live. The fourth side i{s a big brick structure, medern in style. An attempt at a garden has been made, but even the lonely green geranium looks sorry and forlorn. And the cats! in the h A If there were many ouse there are many more out here. leep in a box of excelsior is a beaut He is marked exactly like a tiger. As you p: through narrow, vellow eyes glance at you. If you bend | to stroke him there is a sudden whirl | and the next you see of the tiger he isin the roof of a shed gazing at you in rather an unpleasant manne “Don’t like to be disturbed,” says Mr. | Echnier. Down a pair of rickety stairs into the poor little garden and you hear a mad scampering of little feet, and now the roofs are full of dis- | turbed kitties. They have just been fed and like to sleep a bit. | After awhile we g0 back into the house and Mr. Echnier tells me how he lost his wife a few years ago and since then hie has lived all alone in the second floor of the shanty. My only son is employed in the Smith- sonian Institution in Washington,” he says. ‘“Yes, it is a bit lonely here, but my cats are company you know.” After a little while I bid him good by and take my leave. A few steps and T am right in the heart of town. Tt seems hard to realize that such a e as the catsman’s house exists, but does, and year in and year out a lone old man with only cats for com- pany lives his patient life, ministering to all kinds and styles of cats. THE CAT'S REVENGE. ROBABLY, unless you are a very superstitious person, you will not believe this story, and just because a black cat hap- pened to play a prominent part in it. For the mystics and seers of all ages have dealt largely in cats; the creature had a hidden significance to those who dwelt within the inner cir- cle, and it is no wonder that the com- mon people, living outside this charmed realm of knowledge, said many disa- greeable things about, and attached many disagreeable attributes to, the harmless, necessary cat. Of all the uneducated, sailors have | 1.} follies of superstition. Even in these modern days of steam and common sense some remnant of the feeling lin- gers, and the old sailor will attach a significance to incidents which the landsman would pass by unnoticed. Therefore it was not surprising that, when we sailed out of the Mersey one bitter winter's morning, and flew down the channel before a brisk northerly breeze, there were old sailors among our crew who shook their heads signifi- cantly and prophesied ill-luck for the ship and the voyage. I was only a bit of a knowing nothing of the sea and boy myself, its she will appear, nor at what awful mo- ment of time she may be adding his name to the list of worthies or unwor- thi That party is the terrible street car conductor, whom up to this time you have fancied as something less than a Czar. Of course it behooves him to be honest as a matter of policy, and aside from that fact he is usually a pers as ev the career of this over of patience on a cable car. is such a thing as necessary body knows who has followed rked statue But there cauticn on the subject, and so the “spotter’ tlourishes and makes note! drides up and down and earns her s: by look- ing as little inte ted as possible in the whole thing. It is her bu . in fact, to look ' like a well dressed, well mannered weman of leisure and so like the shopper one meets every day aboard the same car that the most ob- | | | CARELESSLY LOADED WITH BUNDLES, servant person could not think there was anything unusudl about her. | _ Sometimes she is loaded with bun- | dles and looks jaded and worn, but she has a keen and restless eye for the money register, and keeps a lockout in that direction that would surprise the blue-coated potentate who yells, “Up forward, there!” to her as she stag- gers through the crowds that block the doorway and tries to find a seat among the people who move. When this little woman has ridden a number of times along one part of the route or in one car she takes an- other number or another little “vaca- tion.” Then she returns and pays out bher employer's good nickels and be- who tries to do the right thing, | | and that every one is happy. | gins again her rounds to see if every one is honest and every one Is treated well. Now no company can possibly know at all times and in all places and under all circumstances that its cars are being properly run, Its patrons politely dealt with and its interests guarded; it cannot traipse around in person looking at the cash clocks, in- specting the mighty man who punches fares out, nor yet be alive to the re- quirements of the system. But it knows | that a little watching in the right ‘ PLENTY OF ROOM FORWARD ; MOVE UP." places will help to keep things straight, and help to unseat the one who is like- ly_to impose upon it. No street car company can be sure that every man on its pay list is going to be always free from temptation, slips, or even downright dishonesty, and so it is no unfairness to employer or employed to see that the wheels run smoothly up and down the big roads This is where the little girl steps in with her big head and her right lopem‘n as queer a living as ever came a woman’s way. She has no very hard work to do, but she must do what she undertakes well, for it is a pretty seri- ous thing to report a man for remiss- ness in duty without good foundation on whigg to rest thecharge. This young womans own good standing among the men who hire her depends upon the justice of her accusations, and it is pretty certain that any motives of revenge or ill will would speedily be detected in her, and she would lose her own head in the basket. But she is careful and loyal and worthy the pow- er invested in her small self, for she has made no grave mistake so far, lia- ble as the human judgment is to err and deceiving as are the lights and shadows of such a secret service. The man who means well will not be in trouble through this shrewd woman, but the man who does il will fall into her hands and “black list” without loss of valuable time, which in this case is liberally paid for and well earned. Her hours are her own to dispose of, in her company’s interests of course, and early in the morning when the bells first begin to clang and the throb and thrill of the wires are heard above the early noises she first comes forth clad in a gossamer and rubbers, or walking suit and hat, and with her purse held in the fatal feminine way— in all things a woman that would be met with in a car or store or street by the hundreds and whom no one would suspect of carrying destinies around with her and placing and displacing the haughty gripman or conductor. Sometimes she has amusing experi- ences living thus incognita, but mostly it is a serious trade, that of hers, in which there is no badge of office but secrecy and sense, for she has that lat- ter quality in large capitals, you may be sure, or a big, fat, dreadful corpora- tion would not be willing to leave so much of its confidential business in her hands. When I found I actually knew a “spotter” I almost fainted away from pride, but anything more demure than this little lady could not be imagined. A chance observer would never see in her looks anything odd or unseemly in the least. She did not even have the long green veil and the trailing robe I had pictured, but was full of snap and vim, and a vision of an up to date feminine, in her silk lined cloth cos- tume and feathered hat. She changes that hat and dress several times a day, by the way, in order to look as many as possible, and not to occur too often, seemingly, in her rounds that neces- sarily take her over much of the same ground the week. : “I really love it,” she assured me, “and you must not breathe to a soul who T am—of course you cam say that I do this sort of thing—but any hint of | who I really am—and whist!—there you are—I would be absolutely ruined, do you see?”’ “Is it hard? Well that depends,” she said. ‘“There is a great deal of anxiety attached to the matter, but the actual labor is small. Of course I am out in all weathers. I must never be detect- ed, never be seen taking a note of the register even Wwith eye or pencil. But then— ' That “but then” was full of possibili- ties. “But then?” I echoed. “But then, you mustn’t dare to tell— on your life.” m::nd tha\'en‘t—told her name. e St A BACKLOG FANCY. om is dim, the logs burn low, Tt in the fitful flash 1 see Upon the wall the sunbeams glow irough the green branches of the tree. cklog sputters, and I hear TS DICKIGE, TEnty summer note: And in the waves of smoke appear The blue pools of the woods remote. like a spirit, witching, gay, T atends @ throbbing golden spark— A fire-fy drifting on its way 'Across the lopely marish dark. —Harper's Weekly. | AL 2 T £ D Ama A7 £ mysteries, but my juvenile hair used to stand on end when I heard the yarns that Black Tom, our negro cook, would pour forth in the seclusion of the warm galley. Unfortunately for myself the mate, belonging to the after guard, could not with dignity take part in these conferences, or he might have learned that, if the presence of a black cat on board a ship was an evil omen, it was E=ib~1 ) —L L] § | ‘v‘ DII n ~ U&T 23 ‘ (EA'[]' S B NCORE. i " LA ) arrangements were made on the most | tom to see that Mrs. Puss was safely lavish scale, for the Indian officials, when they do things, do them well The Prince was to steam .down the lines in a yacht, and as he passed each vessel was to be brilliantly illumin- ated with colored lights, innumerable rockets were to be sent up and fire- works were to brighten the sky in every direction. All the materials required for the WAGNER AND A FEW OF HIS CATS. to kill one. e, a spirited to his still more unlucky knowing « nothing the ma young fellow, rushed blindly fate. For some reason this officer took a | violent antipathy to our poor little | black cat, and we had hardly cleared | the chops of the channel when he | | made up his mind to execute it. Of re- | | sailor ! in such high authority. | per considered it beneath his dignityto | s 2 | commencement of the display. | gun was duly fired, but our ships re- .war, handsome, fgll-rigged frigates of monstrance there was none, for the | though they shook their heads y, dared not say anything to one And the skip- gravel interfere. I had just made it six bells, or 7 o'clock, one evening, when the mate | came up from his berth in .a violent | rage. ‘“Where’s that adjectived cat?” he demanded. Of course I did not know, but I was immediately dispatched to find the creature and bring it aft—penalty for failure a severe rope's ending. I am sorry to say I found that cat quite | speedily, knowing its habits and the warmth of the galley stove. Only the man at the wheel and my- self witnessed the tragedy, but of course the story was all over the ship the next day. You cannot keep any- thing secret at sea. Taking the cat to the lee side of the poop, just abaft the i rigging, the mate did it to th with a revolver, and tossed its still quivering body into the sea. I had reason to remember the time and the place afterward. Knowing nothing of the gossip of the galley, or the still more ominous mut- terings of the forecastle, the mate went about his duties unconcerned, and our voyage bid fair to be prosperous. The black cat did not turn up in ghostly form mewing her hideous way around the decks. No one appeared to be haunted, and there was nothing to in- dicate the awful doom which the rash officer had prepared for himself. We drifted across the doldrums, clawed our way with difficulty off the Brazil coast, for the southeast trades blew fresh and strong, and ran down our easting in the forties before strong westerly gales, which brought our day's run into respectably large fig- ures. Nothing happened to our stanch craft, and just as the setting sun was gilding the domep of Bombay we sailed into that magnificent harbor. It was a gala time in that splendid city by the sea, apnd we had come just at the right moment to see the fun. The harbor was cfowded with men-of- | the old school, no§ mere modern boxes | of machinery. shore Oriental ex- travagance gave f{tself full swing; the city was crowded \with Eastern poten- tates in gorgeous drray, all come to do homage to the Prince of Wales. It was a great day for Bombay, and for all India, when the stately white- painted Serapis, the finest of Indian troopships, steamed pust the fort and | anchored abreast the city, amid the deafening roar of salutes, the manning of yards, the dipping of flags and a hundred other ceremonious observ- ances which I have no time to repeat here. ““What has all this to do with the “black cat?”’ you will ask. Wait and see. The defunct pussy, so brutally murdered, is soon to nave her turn. Naturally, being oely merchant sallors, we did not take a very promi- nent part in the festivities which fol- lowed the Prince’s arrival. But as the finest and largest sailing vessel in the harbor we were anchored at the end of the line near the Serapis, and were supposed to play a passive part in im- pressing his Royal Highness with the majesty of British commerce. There came an eveamg, however, when our passive waltlng was to be changed to activity. The festivities on shore had nearly worn themselves out, and, by way of a brilliant flnale. the harbor was to be {lluminated. The | for the event with great glee. But | display were supplied free of charge to each 'merchant vessel, so you may be sure we went about our preparations A man, armed with & colored light, was sta- tioned on each yard arm, the rockets were duly fixed to the poop rail, ready for touching off, and a line of tiny lamps ringed our quarterdeck with a circle of fire. Everything was ready for the Prince’s start, we had had our suppers and were waiting on the poop for the signal gun which should markT}&‘he at mained in darkness, no colored light illumined the sky, nor did our rockets send their brilliant clusters of stars skyward. ‘Why the curse of the black cat should have come home at this particu- lar moment I know not. The occasion seemed most inappropriate, but after- ward I remembered that the hour was the hour of the black cat’s death, and the place the place where it had been thrown overboard. The keen nautical eye of the mate noted something wrong with the lines to which the lanterns on the poop were hung. Like a smart sailor he jumped on the rail just abaft the miz- zen rigging to fix it. “Take a turn with that mizzen topsail clewline, Jack,” he cried to me, indicating a rope which hung loosely to the deck. I turned my back on him to do so, and while I was belaying the rope I knew that the mate was gone. I did not see him fall, I was facing the other way, but somehow, with a kind of instinct, I felt it. Then I heard a heavy splash in the water and I real- ized that the officer, having probably cluiched at some inadequate support, had fallen backward into the sea. For the moment I did not think there was any immediate danger; the man was a good swimmer, the sea was smooth, there were ships all around. Still, I yelled out, “Man overboard,” with all the force of my youthful lungs and rushed across the deck to the gangway, where the ship’s gig, with a man in her, happened to be lying. We shoved off, and in a moment were astern, but no sign of the mate was to be seen. We searched in vain for a long time, we picked up a life buoy which had been thrown overboard, but nothing more. Then we returned sadly to our vessel and sat in the blackness and stillness while the Prince passed by and the dark sky fairly blazed with fireworks. As so many Eastern potentates were coming and going at this time salutes were constantly being fired; the boom of heavy guns shook the air all day. So it harnened that, only four days later, a boat from an American ship near by pulled alongside. Something covered with the stars and stripes lay silently in the stern sheets. We did not need to be told what it was, our dead had arisen. There was but one mark on the still upturned face, a bruise on the right temple. In falling the mate had evi- dently struck his forehead against the mizzen channels, which projected some distance from the side. It was the very spot which had been sprinkled by the blood of the black cat. So the man had died, with never a chance of swimming a stroke for his life. J. F. ROSE-SOLEY. MRS. STEVENSON'S CAT STORY. ‘When vou so readily drown poor pussy’s litter on pretext of overpopula- tion do you dream you drown her maternal feelings with them and that she takes no count of her lost darlings she has brought into the world with pain and travail? Mrs. Robert Louis Stevenson once told of her mother's cat who had accldentally been left kit- tenless. The kittens lived in the stable | and it was their mistress’ nightly cus- housed when the stable doors were shut at night. On one preoccupied evening she left the duty to another and mar- veled when she was awakened in the night by the cries of the cat in distress. But cat cries at midnight are troubles we grow used to, and the mistress took no further notice. She had cause to re- member her indifference. Next morning poor puss appeared like a nemesis, her eyes full of re- proach, a little dead kitten in her mouth. She laid her treasure at her mistress’ feet and disappeared, to re- turn with another. This was repeated time and again until seven tiny, furry, dead things were laid in a row before their distracted mistress. Then pussy sat down beside them, lifting up a pair of despairing eyes, and set up a howl of woe like a wild requiem. She had been unwittingly shut out of the stable and the cruelrats had killed all her darlings. “And my moth- er,” continued the sympathetic nar- rator, “cried as if a baby's death had been laid at her door. It was so pitiful 5 s THE DAYS OF FORTY-NINE. Brave days of long ago, how memories ebb and flow, Like bubbles on youth's wine. The days when men were strong in hope and zeal and song, Those days of Forty-Nine. ‘We toiled where nuggest gleamed, where waters foamed and streamed. Ah, that was life divine! We joined in bout and fray—shook hands, that was the way, In days of Forty-Nine. But now through welling tears I scan those misty years, Those years of yours and mine, ‘Which through Time's open door have slowly passed before. Those years of Forty-Nine. And from that silent ghost comes many & ‘wandering ghost, ‘Which passing makes no sign. ‘While from the shadowy throngs float back the saddened songs ‘We sang in Forty-Nine. SAM DAVIS. —_—————— Office boy—Somebody at the tele- phone, sir. Says you're to meet her, or something like that. Gaybird—Meet her? Why, of course. Probably that pretty telephone girl. (Goes to telephone): “What is |it, dear?"” X Voice at telephone—I'm to tell you that your meter will be turned off to- day unless you pay your gas bill. Scene—Office boy discharged. e The Human Ostrich—Say, that glass youv'e catered for me is nothing but old broken green bottles. The proprietor—Well, what's the matter with it? Do you suppose I'm a-going to furnish cut-glass decan- ters to your delicate appetite. The Human Ostrich—Suit yourself. But understand, I ain’t a-going to run the risk of getting colic by eating green glass for anybody. —_—ee————— Tourist (in old German castle)— You needn’t go over the story of the tragedy; I know it well. But what makes you charge double what you did when I was here two years ago. Guide—Ah, mein Herr, dis was a much finer sgeleton dan de vun ve had ad dat tim —_————————— Mrs. Bridewell-I'm glad I wasn't . born in France. Just think of having your husband selected for you by somebody else. Mrs. Cheery—I know; but there's the consolation of having somebody to blame afterward