The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, August 21, 1898, Page 25

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, AUGUST 21, 1898 K A DE =~ (AR But it has > way rounded by apple " said at on the paring ing them of course morning. I ad than u know. of game in at the little it e, though, Dakota, day and what we provisions and just ca we h e at family s of hosy " turesque bridge away, Blandy ndy, r the a boy ¢ 1eal and shorts was n a cauldron over th interva because under t to roam at had a tin 1 was ‘g s paint- £ Sweetbriar Camp, preparatory of seeing the k than horses. d the ay from Minnesota to California in a tiny wagon drawn by dogs. Mrs. Blandy and their baby boy, who are now so- to making a tour of the State. country, and after mature consideration concluded that dogs were The success of the journey has proved that they were right3in been done by Mr. and across the little party met with many adventures. They started nearly a year ago from Brain- wandering herds of cattle. | that people declared was impossible. No wagers were made, no time limits were given. Mr. and Mrs. Blandy simply started out to do what they were confident they could accomplish; | namely, to be drawn across the conti- nent by dogs for the purpose of seeing the country, earning their living as they progressed. And so they pushed along, following the Pacific Railroad, and, not ed for time, they traveled at a speed that was convenient to acter of the the ntry they crosi than ten mile: reaching a ly maximum of fifty-two milés (at one time covering eight ix miles -in 1d stopping in towns to or pick up a few dollars advertisements on the can- wagon. 1YS) paintin vas of their Perhaps the most exciting event that occurred was the enco er with wild [ near T North Dakota. These untamed atures of the Bad Lands attack a man or a dog with reat rocity and the Blandys and have ‘“never lived to tell happened that, were leading a pony had bought for 50 cents at He bit at the cattle, t fear of pon and for ~the nearest ranch—k the train. pony was at the time, they Dakota t., the sold time hile camping in the Casca of O on a California | lion hovered abeut all night. He o close to the camp that the E | could hear the tread of his feet o | But the furious barking of shots Mr. g0 that no harm save the the continent has Imost ~entirely devoid of acc The wagon looks too frail avel, to s stout and g a weight of the wagon ifself is only 210 pounds. It contains one seat, which |is occupied by Mrs. Blandy and her | THE BLANDY FAMILY IN THEIR NOVEL RIG COMING DOWN THE SHASTA GRAD E INTO CALIFORNIA. ons of this preparation every to insure his animals against suffering, and the faithful creatures seem-to like the operation, for they look at ‘their master with gratitude and af- fection. Beautiful, strong dogs! They deserve -all the praises that their master and mistress lavish upon them. “They’re 5, Mrs. Blandy 1 emphatic °n Ssome ohe Sug- gested. that Shetland ponies would be preferable. “Why, dogs will carry you w to a safe, warm place i give out on you. And 0 miles on the rail- road? Horses couldn’t walk ties and carry you ov long trestles a mile and three-quarters in length, as our dogs way ahead o ai didn’t we travel -did! I wouldn’t take fifty horses for- omne of our dogs. Would I, Bruce?” and patted a great shaggy, low dog on the head. | And, indeed, they are regular Klon- dikers, these cr bred Newfoundland and St. Bernard dogs, ard they would have taken a trip to the icy north if the Blandys had not changed their minds and decided to remain in Cali- fornia for a time. - Neither the little wagon six feet long and two feet wide in the wagon bed, nor the well-kept dogs, which could not be bought at any price from their -owners, nor the - cheerful faces and manners of the Blandy family give evidence of the long, tedious travel they have had. It is now nearly a year since they left their home in Brainerd, Minn,, with this unusual rig and $25 who are both slim or they would e space two feet wide. seat is the roll of blankets and tent upon which Mr. Blandy sits to drive his six dogs. Un- | der the seat a- telescope basket of | clothes is carried and odd articles of all kinds are tucked into odd corners and crevices. | The Blandys always amid a roar of cheers When they are about to start, Mr. Blandy walks among his dogs, and, stooping down, adjusts all their feet so as to prevent the entanglement of limbs in harness, quickly steps into the low wagon, seats himself on the bedding |and tent, and, with lines in hapd, he | calls to the dogs, and they are off. There is nothing slow about these dogs—they trot off at a good galt, rais- |ing a big dust, and never walking ex- cept when climbing hills. When asked if he ever walks, Mr. Blandy replied, “Jt would take a professional runner to keep up with my, dogs, —but per- haps he finds the speed up hill some- times convenient for his own walking and his dog’s pulling. At any rate, all the wonder-stricken villagers give the Blandys a screaming send-off when they are favored with a visit. You may hear some one in the crowd remark that “Blandy ought to be arrested for cruelty to animals,” but a look at the well-fed and well-groomed dogs belies se words. th.in outdoor life seems to agree with the Blandy family. Until the night spent near Dunsmuir, when the little | son, | not fit into th In front of this leave towns and laughter. in pocket, to attempt an undertaking | boy complained, they had had no 1= traveling | d into_the air frightened the | It seems an impossible The Blandys made They were attacked by | ness at all. They always sleep under the stars, unless compelled by the weather to raise a tent. Mrs. Blandy thinks that she would suffocate if she had to sleep in a house again. She is a young woman, the picture of health and contentment, badly sunburned, but with handsome blue eyes, an intel- ligent and interesting face, and strong personal magnetism. They seem brimming over with their | travels, anxious to relate their experi- ences, and proud of the success they have met thus far. In cities they earn as much as $5 a day, and while in some | of the Northern towns their income | was $160 a month from advertising alone. They made the distance from Man- hatta on the eastern side of the Rock- ies, to Butte on the western side—S86 miles—in two days. The road here is eptionally broad and well stages cross in twenty- | four hours and people think nothing of going from one town to the other in a single day. The Rockies in this sec- tion of count: are not at all as people think they are. The plans of Mr. and Mrs. Blandy are very extravagant. They expect to spend a year or two in California, re- turn to the East by a new route, travel through Massachusetts, Ohio and other States, where their relatives live, and in the dim, dim future th look for a | voyage across the ocean, and a journey through Europe with the dog team. B WATER IN THE PHILIPPINES. To look at the map one would sup- pose every Philippine Islander would | have rather more water than he need- ed. It seems that this is not so. In | the Youth's Companion, Charles B. Howard, a former resident of Manila, s Spe g of .domestic cares: "he most arduous dutyof the servants (each servant gets $4 a month) was to provide the house with water, which was brought every morning in a hogs- I head fastened to a handcart, from the public fountain nearly a mile away. It had to be carried laboriously upstairs in buckets and emptied into an enor- mous porcelain tank, shaped like half an egg-shell, which stood in a back room, and contained the household’s daily supply for washing, cooking and drinking—that used as drinking water being carefully boiled and flitered. ‘When T first went to Manila I had no | 1dea how precious water was, and ons the morning after my arrival I rose quite early for a bath. Now the usual way of taking a bath In a Manila | house Is to dip the water from the tank with a big cocoanut-shell, and pour it over one’s body, but nobody had told me that, and being delighted | with the appearance of the great tank filled with clear, sparkling water, I | soused into it, and was having a splendid time, when one of the ser- vants, named Felipe, hearing suspi- cious noises, came to investigate. At | the sight of me he threw up his hands | in horror and dismay, and chattered at | me in Spanish, of which I did not then understand a word. Finding his pro- tests of no avail, he rushed away after an interpreter, and soon returned with one of my messmates, who was very sleepy and much bewildered—Felipe’s disjointed exclamations having made him fear that something dreadful had happened. He gasped when he saw me, and then explained the situation. STRANGE FOLK CURE IN KANSAS. OME of these cures, which were collected in Coffey County, were obtained from colored reople. The majority of the superstitions, how- ever, which were collected in Doug- las County, were obtained from people who declared they knew no supersti- tions and believed none, namely, stu- dents in attendance at the University | nearly every county in the State, writes Gertude C. Davenport to the Journal of American Folk Lore. ‘Warts can be transferred from one to another by the following methods, among others: Put into a red calico bag ‘“hearts” from grains of corn; ‘run down the road”; throw away the bag, not look- ing where it falls; run home again, and if any one picks up the bag your warts will go away. Rub the warts with seven pebbles; wrap the pebbles in a paper and throw them away; if the parcel is picked up the warts will go away. If.you see any one asleep in church say to yourself, “When you awake take these warts.” If you have a wart and see a man riding on horseback in the rain, or, as another version runs, riding on a gray horse, say, “Take these along,” rub the wart and it will leave you. At Delphos, Kans,, lives a young man who gallantly procured his sweetheart’s warts by purchase. Steal a dishcloth, rub the. wart with it and then bury the cloth under the eaves of the house. If you tell no one and no one finds out your theft your wart will go away. Write on the stove with a piece of chalk the number of your warts. When the number has burned off the stove your warts will be gone. In order to cure the toothache cut your finger nails on Friday. Another sure cure is to wash behind your ears every morning. The skin of an eel, if worn about the leg, will cure rheumatism. Carry a potato in one's pocket to cure rheumatism. The skin of a black cat worn in one’'s clothing will cure rheumatism. The negro sometimes sleeps with a young dog in order to transmit rheu- matism to the dog. Headache may be prevented by wear- ing in one’s hat the rattles of a snake. The skin of a snake worn around one’s hat crown will cure the head- ache. WHY THE QUEEN CANNOT ABDICATE There are not only pecuniary and constitutional difficulties in the way of abdication. The Queen, however, is of Kansas. These students came from | not only Queen of Great Britain and Ireland, she is also Empress of India, reigning over more Moslems than the Grand Turk, and more Africans and Asiatics than any other civilized mon- arch. Abdication would be misunder- stood by some and resented by all of them: Death they know; a living ruler they understand. What is abdication to the border tribes of the Hindoo- Koosh, to the lake-dwelle: : of Nyassa- land, Uganda, or the flerce tribesmen of the Soudan? From an imperial stand- point a scepter dropped from the hand of the Great White Queen can be borne aloft in her lifetime by no sue- cessor. In many parts of the world the British raj is personified in the little lady who, sixty years ago, said to those who told her that she was a Queen, “T will be good.” In some parts of India she is actually worshiped as a goddess. In her lifetime the native races of the empire will either look to their Queen as the ruler or they will assume that something has happened that saps and neutralizes British power. These imperial considerations as to the effect on Asiatics and Africans were also in the minds of the Min- isters when they unanimously re- fused to advise the Queen to rest from the crushing burden of the crown. —From “If the Queen Had Abdicated,” in Harpers' Magazine. —_——————— THE MAN WHO COOKS THE GRUB We have read in song and story Of ‘“the man behind the gun,” He is given all the glory Of the battles that are won; TheY are filling up the papers ‘With his apotheosis, And they tell about his capers While the shells above him hiss, But behind the grimy gunner, Steadfast through the wild hubbub, Stands a greater god of battles— 'Tis the man who cooks the grub. When the sky is rent with thunder '‘And the shell screams through the alr, ‘When some fort is rent asunder And Destruction revels there, When the men in line go rushing On to glory or to woe ‘With the maddened charges crushing Heroes who are lying low, There is one but for whose labors There could be no wild hubbub, And the greatest god of battles Is the man who cooks the grub. ‘What of ships with armor plating\ ‘What of castlées on the heights ‘What of anxious captains waiting ‘While the careful gunner sights? ‘What of all the long-range rifles? vanne with gentle authority, “who is anxious to ‘get on in the world" and is not over scrupu- lous concerning methods is, fig- uratively speaking, Red Riding Hood in an immense forest full of wolves. She becomes the inno- cent, unsuspecting, defensele: a ravenous pack of hungry creatures from the moment she steps upon a Pa- risian pavement.” So says the golden-haired daughter of Captain Henry John Benson, for- (LR | a modern Little | once prey of | yseful in a very | WARNS AMERICAN HEIRESSES AGAINST THE EUROPEAN NOBILITY In Order to Prove the Truth of What She Saus the Countess Louveau de Chavanne Tells of Her Own Sad Experi HE American girl in Paris,” says | ceremonious courtesy, the Parisian, af- | the Countess Louveau de Cha- |ter some delicate preliminary skirmish- ing, calls upon the Americans, who are generally only too delighted to be ‘taken up’ so quickly and kindly: by | persons of genuine rank and social pleasant intimacy Is at stablished and the obliging new acquaintance takes his or her American friends about, secures them presenta- tiong and invitations, and is extremely delightful way. all this does not, as it seems to, spring from mere enjoyment of the charm of American companionship. “When Madame la_Marquise intro- daces her new American intimates to her own modiste, or her especial trades- pres merly of the United States revenue ser- | people; she receives a substantial com- vice, nlece of the Most Reverend Ed- lmiss&un from her tradesmen for this But | ences in France. “Opera boxes are rented in Paris by the year, and if well managed can be made quite paying investments. For instance, the Marquise de St. Paul, as aristocrat to her finger tips, does not feel like going to the opera ev shts every night is not fashionable, some disinterested third person suggests to the American acquaintance that it would give her and hers a very de- sirable social stamp to be seen in the box of the Marquise. “The matter of money is easily ar- ranged; it would be a graceful ac- knowledgment of the Marquise’s courtesy in allowing them the use of her box to contribute a certain sum to that lady’s charitable fund, and the contribution is made most willingly. The Marquise, however, being a firm ‘What of men with valiant hearts? These were but impotent trifles, But inconsequential parts Of the whole, without the fellow § ‘Who must scour, scrape and scrub— For the greatest god of battles Is the\mnn who cooks the grub. —From the Cleveland Leader. b —_— -~ /\v:i’ < ward White Benson, late Archbishop | of Canterbury, and widow of Count | Louveau de Chavanne, who departed this life some six years since, after re- ducing to zero the comfortable fortune which she brought him at marriage. The Countess is a widow now and is paying a visit to San Francisco. A native of Brooklyn, New York, Ouirda Benson went to Paris when a child under the care of Mrs. Torrence, Commodore Vanderbilt's daughter. She was educated in one of the most ex- clusive schools of that city. Soon after her graduation she was married into the French nobility. Her experiences as the wife of this French nobleman with a talent for squandering money were such as to inspire her to write a book which is designed to be a warning to her American sisters. The spirit of practical philanthropy which earned for her in France the decoration of the Fraternal Society of Retired Veterans of the Legion of Honor, bestowed upon her by President Henriot Berthier, Mayor of Neuilly, an- imates the American Countess still, and nearly every day has found her in at- tendance at the hospital tents of Camp Merritt, where the sick soldiers have learned to look eagerly for her coming. The visit of la_Comtesse to the coast is intended as a vacation from her lit- erary work, and it is consequently a trifle difficult to induce her to “talk shop.” Once persuaded, however, she gives the fortunate listener panoramic glimpses of certain ‘phases of Conti- nental life which are particularly in- teresting because of the fact that she speaks not of what she thinks and sur- mises, but of what she knows. “When ‘new’ Americans arrive in Paris,” says the Countess, ‘“their names, places of residence on this side and their Parisian address are at once published in the American Register, a newspaper which has a very large local circulation, for reasons which you can readily see. These names and partic- ulars are easily obtained at the bank- ing houses, where new comers general- 1y report themselves at once, and are invaluable to the class of people who make a specialty of being attentive, for a consideration, to wealthy and social- 1y, ambitious strangers. “Interpreters and gujdes flock to the recent arrivals, proffer their services and if engaged manage to learn every- thing possible concerning their em- ployer’s circumstances, home standing and society aspirations. “This information has a distinct money value and is made the most of, but some of the titled society mongers disdain such sources of knowledge and prefer to form their opinions and plan their campaigns from personal observa- tion and the prudent inquiries of their own servitors. These ladies and gen- tlemen frequent such places as the beautiful court and approaches to the Grand Hotel, a recognized fashionable rendezvous, and make acquaintance with the right kind of people for their purpose with consummate art and skill. “Being careful to obgerve the out- ward form of the most punctilious and little act of kindness. When she deli- cately hints that for some special oc- casion toilettes of particular elegance are necessary, the purchasing of those toilettes adds a goodly sum to her store of ready money. “While the tradespeople of France are, as a rule, fair and honest in their dealings with their customers who come to them direct, the pernlcious sys- tem of commissions insisted upon by many of their fashionable patrons when recommending others to purchase of them results in overcharges. These, however, are smilingly paid, since the | patronage of so distinguished a person as the introducer guarantees to the in- troducee that the establishment is the ‘proper thing’ in its line. believer in the adage that ‘charity be- gins at home, profits personally and satisfactorily by the transaction. ‘““Where there is a daughter ambitious to own a title, a wider field of opera- tions is entered upon. There are crowds of impoverished scions of noble families who are only too willing to barter po- sition for wealth, and one of these be- ing selected as eligible he is obliged to sign a regular contract specifying ex- actly how much of his prospective wife’s fortune he will pay to the aristo- cratic match-maker in the event of his marriage to her ‘dear young Ameri friend.’” Sometimes, where there dowry, the amount is paid down, and agaiu it is paid so much by the month, so that there are many American girls who, quite unconsciously, have literally paid for their husbands ‘on the install- ment plan.’ “So legitimate is this business con- sidered that when I left France for America certain persons coolly hinted to me that I might enjoy a good income would I but keep them informed au- thentically concerning the eligible heir- esses over here, their fortunes, personal characteristics and whereabouts. They themselves undertook to manage the European end of the business, and guaranteed that financial success would be positively assured to such a high- class matrimonial agency. “It is needless to say that I declined the offer. I have seen too much misery come from such marriages to endeavor in any way to increase them. COAT OF ARMS OF THE COUNTESS. o T, LA COMTESSE LOVEAU DE CHAVANNE. The Countess is now visiting relatives in California. She comes of a wealthy and well known American family. While very young and an heir- ess she was married to a member of the French mnobility. her fortune before his death, and now the Countess warning young American heiresses against foreign marriages. He squandered writing a_book She has a is great deal to say about the way In which rich American women visiting Europe are preyed upon by vigilant shary’*ra.