The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, July 10, 1898, Page 24

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, "JULY 10, f 1898. FW* N N T IS doubtful whether the gift was innate. For my own part I think it came to him suddenly. Indeed, until he was 30 he was a sceptic, and did not believe 0us powe And here, since it s the most wenient place, I must mention that he was a little a eves of a hot brown, very erect red mustache like the German emperor's and George McWhirter Fotheringay— v means to lead to any expec- was clerk at Gomshott's. He i assertive argument. It was while ¢ the impossibility of miracles that he had s extraordinary powers. This par- as being held in the bar of the Long Beamish was conducting the opposi- us but effective “So you say” that 1gay to the very limit of his patience. csent, besides these two, a very dusty ind Miss Maybridge, the perfectly re- portly barmaid of the Dragon. Miss ding with her back to Mr. Fotherin- the others were watching him, »d by the present ineffectiveness of the Goaded by the Torres Vedras tactics stheringay determined to make an . “Looky here, Mr. Beamish,” said us clearly understand what a mir- 1Ng contrariw to the course of na- ywer of will, something that couldn’t hap- ecially willed.” id Mr. Fotheringay, greatly encour- : a miracle. That lamp, in the natu- . couldn’t burn like that upsy-down, es; thod. t,” said Beamish. Fotheringay. *You don't mean to h, reluctantl Mr. Fotheringay. ght be, along here, and stands, nd says to that lamp, as I do, coli upsy-down without breaking, and go urn 1y and—Hullc make any one say “Hullo!” The im- ible, was visible to them all. The d in the air, burning quietly with its . It was as solid, as indisputable as e prosaic common lamp of the Long y stood with an extended forefinger and ws of one anticipating a catastrophic st, who was sitting next the lamp, duck- the bar. Everybody jumped, more turned and screamed. For nearly ) remai. A faint cry of men- eringay. I can't keep it He staggered back, and the x nly flared, fell against the corner of bournced aside, smashed upon the floor, and went was lucky it had a metal recelver, or the whole 1 in a blaze. Mr. Cox was the first k, shorn of needless excrescences, theringay was a fool. Fotherin- g even so fundamental a proposi- tonished beyond measure at the d. The subsequent conversation no light on the matter so far as Fother- ned; the general opinion not only follow- losely, but very vehemently. Every one lly trick, and presented him to royer of comfort and security. His ado of perplexity, he was himself in- them, and he made a remarkably in- to the proposal of his departure. ated, coat collar crumpl- e He watched each of the mps nervously as he passed it. It was only iself alone in his little bedroom in as able to grapple seriously with his the occurrence, and ask, “What on earth il he ie had removed his coat and boots, and was sitting on he bed with his hands in his pockets repeating the text of his defe : for the seventeenth time, “I didn’t want the confounded thing to uy ' when it occurred to him that at the precise moment he had sald the commanding words he had Inadverte willed the thing he said, and that € lamp in the air he had felt that it n it there without being clear . _He had not a particularly com- have stuck for a time at that as it does, the abstrus- but as 1t was, the idea able haziness. And from n the to his candle and collected his did a foolish thing. “Be raised econd that feeling vanished. The £ in the air one giddy moment, and, v gasped, fell with a smash on his toilet 1 in’ darkness save for the expiring glow time Mr. Fotheringay sat in the darkness, per- till. “It did happen, after all,” he sald. ‘“‘And ’ow in it 1 don’t know. He sighed heavily, and ing in his pockets for a match. He could find and groped about the toilet table. *T h." he said. He resorted to his coat, and and then it d. > even with ma vned upon him_that ches. He extended a in the dark. *“Let there be a match said. He felt some light object fall nd his fingers closed upon a match, flectual attempts to light this, he dis- covered it w fety match. He threw it down, and then it occurred to him that he might have willed it 1it. did. and perceived it burning in the midst of his toilet . He ht it up hastily, and it went out. His on of possibilities enlarged, and he felt for and re- he candle in the candlestick. ‘“Here, you be lit,” aid Mr. Fother v, and forthwith the candle was flar- and he saw a little black hole in the toilet cover, with a wisp of smoke rising from it. For a time he stated from this to the little flame and back. and then looked up and met his own gaze in the looking glass. By this help he communed with himself in silence for a ti; ‘How about miracles now?” said Mr. me. Fotheringay at last. addressing his reflection. otheringay then went to bed and after a rocd slee) awoke at his usual hour. He was pensive all througl breakfast time. wondering whether his overnight experi- ence might not be a particularly vivid dream. At length his mind turned in to cautious expertments. For in- stance, he had three eggs for breakfast; two his landlady had supplied. good but shoppy, and one was a deliclous fresh goose egg, lald, cooked and served by his extraor- dinary will. He hurried off to Gomshott's in a state of profound but carefully concealed excitement, and only re- membered the shell of the third egg when his landlady spoke of it that night. As the day wore on his state of mind passed from wonder to elation. It was evident he must be careful how ted frangible articles, but in other ways his gift vromised more and more he turned it over in his mind Te intended among other things to increase his personal by unos ati acts of creatton. He called splendid diamond studs, and ain as young Gomshott came 0 his desk. ing he went into the lane beyond hearse a few miracles in private, ossibly a certain want of originality in his for apart from his will power Mr. Fotheringay a very exceptional man. The miracle of Moses’ me to his mind, but the night was dark and unfavor- 0 the proper control of large miraculous snakes, 1 he recollceted the story of “Tannhauser” that he had d on the back of the Philharmonic programme. cemed to him singularly attractive and harmless. He stuck his walking stick—a very nice Poona-Penang law- fter suppe S w ere was 1 ttempts as n 0000OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO0000000%000000000000000000oooooooooooooooo 000000 Le= <" BY HL.GWELLS. o Y G COULD WORK N ) Py e cr— - IRACLES. “BE RAISED UP,” HE SAID. THE CANDLE WAS RAISED AND HUNG IN THE AIR ONE GIDDY MOMENT. yer—into the turf that edged the footpath, and commanded the dry wood to blossom. The air was immediately full of the scent of roses, and by means of a match he saw for that this beautiful miracle was indeed accomplish- His satisfaction was ended by advancing footsteps. of a prematyre discovery of his power: ssoming stick hastily: “Go back.’” Z hange back;"” but of course he was con- The stick receded at a considerable velocity, and incontinently came a cry and a bad word ‘from the approaching person. are you throwing bram- at, you fool?” cried a voice. “That got me on the “T'm sofry realizing the nervously at his m three Tmmering con “What d'yer mean *“*Hull It's you, is it? the Long Dragoni” : 1 don’t mean anything by it,” said Mr. Fotheringay. 'hap,” said Mr. Fotheringay, and then ard nature of the explanation, caught ¥ w Winch, one of the cing. asked the constable. nt that broke the lamp at by 1 The g do it for then?"” * said Mr. Fotheringay. ! D'yer know that stick hurt? ¥ ‘What d'yer do it for, eh For the moment Mr. Fotheringay could not think what 1 he had done it for. silence seemed to irritate Mr. Winch. “You've been ulting the police, young man, this time. That's what you done, “Look here, Mr. Winch,” said Mr. Fotheringay, annoy- ed and confused, “I'm very sor The fact 1s—" Wl He could think of no wi but the truth. “I was work- ing a miracle.” He tried to try as he would he couldn't. “Working a—! 'Ere, don't talk rot. Fact Is, this is another of 3 ly conjuring tricks—that's what this is. Now, I tell . But Mr. theringay never heard what Mr. Winch*was going to tell him. He realized he had given himself away, flung his valuable secret to the fair winds of heaven. A violent gust of irritation swept him to action. on the constable swiftly and flercely. *“Here, B ’ “I've had enough of this, I have! T'll show vou a silly conjuring trick, I will! Go to hades! Go, now!” c was alone! Mr. Fotheringay performed no more miracles that night, nor did he trouble to see what had become of his flowering stick. He returned to the town torthwith, scared and very quiet, and went to his bedroom. “Lord!" he said, “it's a powerful gift—an extremely powerful gift. f didn't hardly me much as that. Not really. * * * I wonder what hades is like!” He sat on the bed taking off his boots. Struck by a happy thought he transferred the contsable to San Fran- cisco, and without any more interference with normal causation went soberly to bed. In the night he dreamt of the anger of Winch. The next day Mr. Fotheringay heard two interestin items of news. Some one had planted a most beautiful climbing rose against the elder Mr. Gomsnhott's private house in the Lullaborough road, and the river as far as Rawling’s mill was to be dragged for constable Winch. On Sunday O\'chln%‘ he went to chapel, and oddly enough, Mr. Maydig, who took a certain Interest in occult matters, preached about “things that are not lawful.”” Mr. Fotheringay was not a regular rha?i’l-:oer, but the system of assertive skepticism, to which I have aiready aliuded, was now very much shaken. The tenor of the sermon threw an entirely new light on these novel gifts, and he suddenly decided to consult Mr. Maydig immediately after the service. So soon as that was determined he found him- self wondering why he had not done so before. Mr. Maydig, a lean, excitable man with quite remark- ably long wrists and neck, was gratified at the request for a private conversation from a young man whose careless. ness in religious matters was a matter for general remark in the town. After a few necessary delays, he conducted him to the study of the Manse. At first Mr. Fotheringay was a little aba: found some difficulty in opening the matter. X scarcely believe me, Mr. Maydig, I am afraid,” and so forth for some time. He tried a question at last and asked Mr. Maydig his opinion of miracles. Mr. Maydig was still sayving “well,” in an extremely ju. diciai tone, when Mr. Fotheringay interrupted again. ““You don’t believe, I suppose, that some common sort of person peak in an off-hand way, but —like myself, for instance—as it might be sitting here now, might bave some sort of twist inside him that made him ab v his will.” r. Maydig. “Something of the with something here, T think T of experiment,” sald Mr. Foth- “Now, take that tobacco jar en tne table, for ort, perhaps, is possible. “If I might make free might show you by a sort eringay. instance. What I want to know is whether what I am golng to do with it Is a miracie or not. Just half a min- ute, Mr. Mfl)'dlfi. please.” He knitted his brows, said: “Be a bowl of vi'lets The tobacco jar did as it was ordered. Mr. Maydig started violently at the change, and stood looking from the thaumaturgist to the bowt of flow . He aid nothing. Presently he ventured to lean over the table and smell the violets; they were fresh picked and very fine one: hen he started at Mr. Fotheringay again. “How did you do that?"’ he asked. Mr. Fotheringay pulled his mustache. *Just told ft— and there you are. Is that a mi: r is it black art, or what is it? And w do you think's the matter with me? That's what I want to ask.” “It's a most extraordinary occurrence.’” i , after that it's easier to explain what I came aid Mr. Fothering: and proceeded to a lengthy volved narrative of his strange experiences, begin- ning with the affair of the lamp in the Long Dr: n and complicated by persistent allusions to Winch. As he went on, the fransient pride Mr. Mavdig's consternation had caused passed away, he becs very ordinary Mr. Fatheringay of everyd: se again, Mr. Maydig listened intently, the tobacco jar in his hand, and his bear- ing changed also with the course of the narrative. Pres- while Mr. Fotheringay was dealing with the miracle , the minister interrupted with a fluttering extended hand “It is possible,” he said. “It is credible. It is amaz- ing, of course, but it reconciles a number of amazing dif- ficulties. The power to work miracles is a gift, a peculiar quality, like genius or second sight.” Mr. Fotheringay proceeded to tell of his misadventure with Winch, and Mr. Maydig, no longer overawed or scared, began to jerk his limbs about and nterject aston- ishment. “It's this what troubled me most,” proceeded Mr. Fotheringay; “it’s this I'm most mightily in want of advice, for of course he's at San Francisco—wherever San Francisco may be—but of course it's awkward for both of us, as you'll see, Mr. M: 'dlg, Mr. Maydig loked serious. “I see you are in a tangle. Yes, it's a difficult position. How you are to end it—" He became diffuse and inconclusive. “However, we'll leave Winch for a Iittle and discuss the larger question. I don't think this Is a case of the black art or anything of the sort. I don’t think there is any taint of criminality about it at all, Mr. Fotheringay— none whatever, unless you are suppressing material facts. No. it's miracles of the very highest class.”™ He began to pace the hearthrug and gesticulate, while Mr. Fotheringay sat with his arm on the table and his head on his arm, looking worried. “I don’t see how I'm to manage about Winch,” he said. “A gi’t of working miracles—apparently a very power- ful gift,” said Mr. Maydig. “will find a way about’ Winch never fear. My d sir, you are a most important man— a man of Lhe most astonishing possibilities. As evidence, ‘fior example! And in other ways, the things you may ot ointed to the tobacco jar and ““Yes, I've thought of a thing or two,” said Mr. Fother- ingay. ‘“‘But—some of the things came a bit twisty. You saw that fish at first? Wrong sort of bowl and wrong sort of fish. And I thought I'd ask some one.” “‘A proper course,” said Mr. Maydig, “a very proper course—altogether the proper course.” He stopped and looked at Mr. Fotheringay. “It's prac- tically an unlimited gift. Let us test your powers, for in- stance. If they really are. * * * If they reafly are all they seém to be.” And so, incredible as it may seem, in the study of the little house behind the Congregational chapel, on the even- Ing of Sunday, Nov. 10, 1806, Mr. Fotheringay, egged on and inspired by Mr. Maydig, began to work miracles. The reader’s attention is specially and definitely called to the date. He will object, probably has already objected, that certain Folnls in this story are improbable; that if any things of the sort already described had indeed occurred, they would have been in all the papers a year ago. The detalls immediately following he will find particularly hard to accept, because among other things they Involvé the conclusion that he or she, the reader In question, must have been killed in a violent and unprecedented manner more than a year ago. Now a miracle is nothing if not improbable, and as a matter of fact the reader was killed in a violent and unprecedented manner a year ago. In the subsequent course of this story that will become per- fectly clear and credible, as every rightminded and reasonable reader will admit. After Iotneringay and Maydig had worked a dozen of these domestic trivi- alti their sense of power grew, their imagination began to show signs of stimulation and their ambition en- larged. Their first larger enterprise_was due to hunger and the negligence of Mrs. Minchin, Mr. Maydig's house- keeper. The meal to which the minister conducted Mr. SYMBOLS JUST CREATED. BY THE GOVERNMENT WASHINGTON.—An order was issued at the War Department last night designating the symbols which will ARTILLERY CORPS" n THIRD CORPs, TIT TH CORPS, SECOND CORPS. N FOURTH CORPS SIXTH CORPS SEVENTH CORF‘Q = e EIGHTH CORPS (NINTH CORPS, ELEVENTH Fotheringay was certainly ill-laid and uninviting as re- freshment for two industrious miracle-workers, but they were already seated, and Mr. Maydig was descanting in sorrow rather than in anger upon his housekeeper’s short- comings, before it occurred to Mr. Fotheringay that an op- portunity lay before him. “Don’t you think, Mr.®Maydig, id, ‘if it isn't a liberty, I—" No—I didn’t Fotheringay waved his hand. “What shall we ud, in a large, inclusive spirit, and, at Mr. er, revised the supper very thoroughl, “As aid, eying Mr. Maydig’s selection, m al- particularly fond of a tankard of stout and a nice h rabbit, and I'll order that. I ain’'t mucn given to Burgundy,” and forthwith stout and welsh rabbit prompt- 1y appeared at his command. They sat long at their sup- per, talking like equals, as Mr. Fotheringay presently per- ceived, with a glow of surprise and gratification, of all the mirac sently do. ““And, by the by, Mr. Maydig i “T might perhaps be able to help y Jon't qu My dear Mr. Fotheringa think.” M Of course! Maydig, pouring out a of miraculous c “The thing’s unlimited, said Mr. Fotherin- gay. ‘“‘And, about Mr. Win And from the opposite side of Z. waving the Wicn difficulty aside, f wonderful proposals—proposals he in- long. unfolded a s vented as he went Now what tho! were does not concer e it that they enc rt of benevolence postprandial. ch remained uns: far that s Suffice it, too, t ived. Nor 1§ it nece: to Ty its fullfilment, 8 all hours found careering acrc an Mr. Fotheringa: quare under the still moon, in a v of thaumaturgy, Mr. Maydig all flap and ges Mr. Fotheringay short and bristling, and no longe ed at his gre They had reformed every dru the parli division, changed all the pe ig had overruled Mr. Fotheringa on this point); , further, greatly improved the railway communication of the place, drained Flinder's swamp, improved the soil of One Tree hill and cured the vicar’s wart. And they were going to see wnat could be done with the injured pier at South Bridge. “The place,” i;afip('d Mr. Maydig, “won’t be the same place to-morow. Jow surprised and thankful every one will be!” And just at that moment the church clock struck 8. “1 say.” sald Mr. Fotheringay, ‘“‘that's 8 o’clock! I must be getting back. I've got to be at business by 8. And besides, Mrs. Wimms— “We're only beginning,” sald Mr. Maydig, full of the sweetness of unlimited power. ‘“We're only beginning. Think of all the good we're doing. When people wake—' “But—" said Mr. Fotheringay. Mr. Maydig gripped his arm suddenjy. His eves were bright and wild. “My dear chap,”’ he sald, “there’s no hurry. Look”—he pointed to the moon at the zenith— “Joshua!” oshua?" said Mr. Potheringay. “Joshua,” said Mr. Maydig. “Why not? Stop it.” r. Fotheringay looked at the moon. hat’s a bit tall,” he said after a pause. “Why not?" said Mr. Maydig. “Of course it doesn't stop. You stop the rotation of the earth, you know. Time stops. It isn't as if we were doing harm.” ... “H'm!" said Mr. Fotheringay, “Well.” He sighed. “I'll try. Here—" He buttoned up his jacket and addressed himself to tha habitable globe, with as good an assumption of confidence as lay in his power. “Jest stop rotating, will you?’ sald Mr. Fotheringay. Incontinently he was flylng head over heels through the air at the rate of dozens of miles a minute. In spite of the innumerable circles he was describing per second, he thought; for thought is wonderful—sometimes as siug- fish as flowing pitch, sometimes as instantaneous as light. 1e thought in a second, and willed. ‘Let me come down safe and sound. Whatever else happens, let me down safe and sound!” He willed it only just in time, for his clothes, heated by his rapid flight through the afr, were already beginning to singe. He came down with a forcible but by no means injurious, bump In what appeared to be a mound of fresh- turned earth. A large mass of metal and masonry, ex- traordinarily like the clock tower in the middle of the mar- ket square, hit the earth near him, ricochetted over him and flew into stonework, bricks and masonry, like a byrst- ing bomb. A hurtling cow hit one of the larger blocks%and smashed like an egg. There was a crash that made all the most violent crashes of his past life seem like the sound of falling dust, and this was followed by a descending ser- A vast wind could jes of lesser crashes. earth and heaven, so that he For a while he was too breathles: n- to 100k . N - O even to see where he was or what had happened. Ished Vel &t movement was to feel head and re- “eure himself that his streaming hair w il his-own. A ord!” gasped Mr. Fotheringa rce able to speai gale e had a squeak! » wrong? for the gale inder. And only a minute ago'a fine night. ".; fydig set me on to this Sort of thing. " What a windi If 1 go on fooling in this way I'm bound to have a thun- dering accident! * * * “Where's Maydig? : \hata confounded mess everything's & n! icket would 00! about him so far as hi Drange. “The s all right, anyhow,” said Fother. ShEaywAnd shat )0 I'that is all right. And even there it looks like a terrific gale coming up. Al the moon overbead, Just as It wasy ! g as e where's everything? And what on earth set this ind z cing? 1 didn't order no wind.” ““‘erd F!grh‘SrTr}ga\’ struggled to get to, nts fcl:“r:l‘lf‘ L | afte N re. remained on all fours, holding on: and after one Il oniit world to leeward, with the tails He surveved the moon ! of his jacket streaming over his head. * seriously aid Mr. Fotheringay. pu ess know A2 SOI‘?"::'W{I“G wide nothing was visible 1:flf!he white \Iyzhr.: r2h"the haze of dust that drove before a screaming 'J&ES“IE’& tl:lml)lwl masses of (iurl?l_u‘l?qh!;[;tp (::fl\gn': 1&‘”‘:{) ins, no trees, no ho no familiar shapes, only a wild- g‘x’x’\’; s of disorder vanishing at last into the da ll\]v\‘o. Il.' neath the whirling colu ““ls and sl!:;ilyr:ln(;rfi, B lll]lin“)xv]))l\:-): nd thunderings of a swiftly rising storm. 0 i ]Bl\ul glare w‘.\gs a(mlg(hlng flli}t ml,.:i:trp‘ryg(esll'\» ‘(I‘\\;)r((\‘): ce, a smashed mass o s, shivere rom oughs (o hase. and further a twisted mass of iron gird: ers—only too evidently the viaduct—rose out of the pilef confusion. You see, when Mr. Fotheringay had arrested the rota- tion of the solid globe, he had made no s\}\‘:u]fl(u\)nx(;.'l‘]; cerning the_trifling movables upon its surface. And th earth spins so fast that the surface at its equator is t avel- ing at rather more than 1 miles an hour, and in these at more than hal Maydig and Mr. r had been jerked violently for per second—that is to say, much mor; had been fired out of a cannon. hg creature, every house_ know it—had been So j troyed. That was all. There’ “And what hed and utter things, Mr. Fotheringay did not, of course, fully appreciate. But he perceived that his miracle had miscar- ried, and with that a great disgust of miracles came upon now, for the clouds him, He was in darkn s Dad e R together and blotted out his momer and the air full of fitful, struggling, tortured of T A great roaring of wind and waters filled earth and s nd peering under his hand through the dust and sleet to windwayd, -he saw by the play of the ard him. st wall er_pouring t lightnings Ma. I3 amed ot urul;.'fl“s'”fo‘ftl)lu voice amid the elemental uproar. ‘‘Her: Maydig! “Stop!" cried Mr. Fotheringay to the advancing water. “0, for goodn sake, “Jest a moment nings and thunder. what shall I do?’ he g was about. top S Mr. Fotheringay to the light- l('»?) jest a moment while I collect d. “What shall I *F kv‘n W said M heringay. ‘‘And for goodness ke let’s have it right t! time. e !E{rr remained on all fours, I ing against the wind, very intent to have everything right. Ve ANt he kald: - “Let nothing of what I'm going to or- der happen until I say ‘Off!” * * ¥ Lord! I wish I'd thought of that before!” He lifted his little voice against the whirlwind, shout- ing louder_and louder'in th n desire (0 hear himself “Now then—here goes! Mind about that what I v. In the first place, when all I've got to say is . ‘my. miraculous. power, let my will be- vbody else’s will, and ali these dangerous d. Idon’t like them. I'd rather I didn’t That’s the first thing. And the back just before the miracles begin; just as it was before that blessed lamp turned up. 1t’s a big job, but it's the last. Have you got it? No more miracles, everything as it was—me back in the Long Dragon just before I drank my halfpint. That's Yes.” - d a volce. He opened his eves. He was in the bar of the Leng Dragon, arguing about miracles with Toddy Beamish. He had a vague sense of some great thing forgotten that in- pa You see that, except for the loss of miraculous powers, everything -was back as it had been, his mind and memory, therefore, were now just as they had been at the time when this story began. So that DRI HE SAW A VAST WALL OF WATER BEARING DOWN UPON HiM. “STOP!" HE CRIED. he knew absolutely nothing of all that is told here to this day. And, among other things, of course, he still did not believe in miracles. I tell you that miracles, properly speaking, can’t pos- sibly happen,” he said, “whatever you like to hold. And I'm prepared to prow it up to the hilt.” “That's what vou think,” said Toddy Beamish, and “prove it if you ca “Looky here, Mr. Beamish,” sald Mr. Fotheringay; “let us clearly understand what a miracle s. It's Some. thing contrariwise to the course of nature done by power of wills ®.e'a Copyrighted, 1898, O00000000O0O0000000000000000C0 0000000CWOO0C00000 0000 FOR THE VARIOUS ARMY CORPS indicate the various army corps of the land forces during the present war, and which are destined to be perpetuated by future veterans. CORPS. _‘TH! RTEENTH CORPS. SIXTEENTH CORPS. FIFT! TEENTH The symbols are as follows: EIGHTEENTH" | CORPS { SEVENTEENTH CORPS 20D NINTEENTH] COorRPS