The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 18, 1898, Page 13

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 18, 1898. 15 WHEN TWENTY-THREE MEN WENT DOWN in the ROARING SEA on the OREGON COAST the Yaquina life saving people. to short sightedne of reaching the s Within ene d still and while couri county in s the in the 1 the y when fr he n ay. rnold \talanta, h: doctors A will carry the memory on the part of the Government the surfmen had no me of the t of the disaster they h watch the rs scoured the arch of horses B 1 boat and beach cart to the been possible to launch once many of the crew ta might have been alive one of the men res- just been > from Grays Har- r James A. f the hor- Owing on the Welsh coast and all the crew ave himself and a w others were rowned. A young Welsh lady nursed MecBride back to life i before he went 1 to sea agaln he married her. In the s Atalanta wreck he was one of the first ad- men drowned. to According to all-that can be gathered the Atalanta was steered southeast- half st all of that fateful night, and that brought her cl inshore on our coast. It w blowing a living gale and Cape Foulweather light was ob- scured by fog and sleet. When First Mate Hunter was told by one of the crew that he thought he saw a fixed light the mate laughed at the idea and said it was a passing ship. s wreck. ine Hos- Garfield ‘“WHEN | CAME UP OUT OF THAT PIT OF THE SEA AGAIN THE MAST WAS GONE Story of a Bruised Survivor, Who Has Just Reached Here After Extraordinary Hardships. e erloss of LU0 B e grave with him. He is a _ The nt he was yelling into AND ONLY ONE MAN OF A wt th str 3 al wreck. Do what he may he the forecastle, “Get on deck, men, for DCZEN WAS LEFT CLINGING TO THE RIGGING.'" . 80 ked for t get the roar of the surf out of Your live Don’t wait to put your c m nt the At his ears nor the sight of his drowning clothes on.” A heavy sea swept me off my feet. I to supports had been swept away. The blow from some of the wreckage sight of my drowning comrades from t of his mind. Whenever A moment later Captain McBride ran grabbed a stanchion and held on until captain was among them. A dozen more banged about by the waves. before my eyes.” f sited the blood gushes on deck in his nightclothes, and giving the wave had passed. men were with, me in the rigging. I ~ “When I was carried high on the A number of bodies were washed ey rom his and ears. At times he one wild look around shouted: “Put “Then I got into the mizzen rigging. saw we were goners unless we got crest of a big wave ksaw Mate Hun- ashore from the wreck, scarred and! = 10 the whole horrible tragedy over Yyour wheel hard over! Square the cross Things w topsy-turvey, but in ten away, so I decided to take to the wa- ter and the men still clinging to the mutilated bevond recognition. They! and then he weeps like a child. Jjackyard! My God, Hunter, where minutes the ship managed to straight- ter, as the mizzen was getting ready mizzen rigging. Then I and the hatch were buried by the life saving crew ts of the wrec s cook on the Atalanta. have you put her?” = en up; then she toppled over to star- to fall. were engulfed in a pit of the sea. and a little cross now marks their last ng wash lanta, Captain Charles Mec- It was a roaring, wild night,” said board. “I jumped into the sea and grabbed “When we came up again the mast resting place. Only a small portion of re or swept out to sea, battled for e, was on her way from Tacoma to Arnold, in talking of the horrors of the “I crawled over the cross jackyard a hatch thaf was sweeping by. A man Wwas gone and there was only one man the Atalanta’s hull remains on the 2 South Africa with a cargo of grain wreck, “and the booming of the break- and got into the port rigging, and then was struggling to hold on to it, but left clinging to the port davit. In & sandspit to show where a noble ship all tol when the disaster occurred. How she ers is always in my ears and the sight the ship broke her back. the waves banged him off and ham- few moments he also joined the strug- was wrecked and twenty-three sailors en, all to came to pile up on the sandspit at the of my drowning mates before my eyes. “The foremast went by the board mered him a~ainst a plank to which he rling human beings and wreckage in lost their lives. only four sailors wer ved, and th entrance to Alsea Bay when she ought The noise of the surges is so when we first struck, and then the clung. That left me alone trying to the tempest-tossed waves. —————————————— four will ca of their flerce t, have been hundreds of miles off sometimes that I cannot hear ques mainmast followed it, and this so weak- hane to the hatch. The roar of the _“How I reached the shore I dom’t ~yanflin, an artificial substitute for gtruggle with the ele will never b own, as all the that are put to x ened the mizzenmast that I thought wind was lost in the roar of the break- know, but I would give ten years of vanpilla, 1§ made from the sap of the What 2 to the .rs went down with the ship. Cap- lanta t! tain McBride was wrecked once before [OXCTOJOROROROROXO, ©® . you will give nuts, red apples and dried plums to Gelynotte oreau to fill the abots of the little ones. Et in secula um,” murmured M. de Cure, who then resumed the reading of viary, which had been interrupted by the e: He bent h or the fete of the following ¢ t book, closing his ears in vain to hich g throughout the place on this the eve of the d R ‘x‘-‘“‘-xdx he air and troubled his meditations. He could not p're\cnt l\ls P aterna aring in the innocent pleasures of the flock 0‘!’["r‘l‘3"l Sy nd to which he had ministered, for more lhan‘ h'md‘,\\'. = s from many hearths shed a red light upon the v\v s 1 The air w filled with the odor of {M.shia, e + and the appetizing fumes of roasted goose stuffes just celd enough to make one fecl like sitting 1d friends. ts which the perfume the fireside With surr unding hous: n butte wit ains the wes w and _thex, ItS T , my children, 1 1 Jall return as pow- ouds that veil me from my ded a great joy came to fill ke ¢ and, ar Y One more turn of the > those rascal sun had fade “hristmas eve in his life, the cure was to celebrate the inten a he less light than usual. Teno benevolenc necked his com veness of wrongdoing. 3 ors were in- oAt the Hotel du Dauphi the other side of c fm! ,r ten days they had been N it o fever. At cach corner were to be and in front of them pon the spectacle of the previous hing. 7The streets, which, as & nged until after midnight. From of the respecuve players were nad be s though oF r that he serte 1 of rd beneath the window and M. Lamier sprang 'of Tather Onesime, the public crier and game- ling aloud in the same tone as the worthy ens to kill the white worms or to muzzle "heate! rain Market), this evening, for E lnefll\‘!‘;h(nc(rv stantin,’ comedy by Ludovie Monsicur Artemon (of the Chatelet) stantin; Mile. Valerie (from the theaters - as Bettina. The usual price of admis- “Hochary Troupe, Sou the first time the great success of the Acadeémie [ n the role of the Abb st and Algeria) will ounced the arrival of the diligence, which halted site, and the passengers alighted with a great deal of . women precipitating themselves from the interior like<a cloud s, deafening the drive e, * here is my new muff? Matthew, where is Totor's mechanical horse?” And Matthew, with his fat face flushed, and framed in the ear laps of ie cap, dived down into the hood of the imperial, which was inflated like \ & balloon, and withdrew packages and boxes. ‘ome. Matthew, the e's new cassock,” said Jeanne, asserting her “Matiliew, have you my cassock?’ suddenly cried from a window in the Hotel du Dauphin a man who displayed a face covered with soap, a napkin around his neck, and a shaving brush in his hand. The driver Introduced his arm anew into the hood, and, after a careful search, drew forth two parcels of unequal size Sl RS RS T e o AP Ko7 33353 “When I heard Mate Hunter order all hands on deck I rushed for the poop. How e BARNTEDHING ACTER epr e CFHIRISTMAS.. “Here is something for you, Mlle, Jeanne! And here, M. Artemon, is all that w given me for M. Hochary's company,” and from the top of the diligence he held out & long, narrow card box to the comedian, who leaned forward to receive it. In its aerial transit the cover, which had been badly tled on, fell to the ground, and a wig of yellow hair was caught by Arte- mon on the wing, like a flag floating in the wind. “Bettina's wig!"” exclaimed the excited actor. my cassock, the cassock of the Abbe Constantin. you put it, rascal? “On my word of honor, I have nothing else,” asserted Matthew, dis- playing his empty hands. “How annoying, fellow. There has been some mistake, Mademolselle. Mademoiselle,” he called despairingly to Jeanne, who had turned away with a majestic air, “are you sure that you have not the cassock?" “Scamp!” said the haughty housekeeper, disdainfully. Down the stairs M. Artemon flew, four eteps at a time, and rushed into the greenroom, where the rest of the company were assembled. His hurried entrance filled them all with consternation. “My friends,” he exclaimed, tragically, ‘‘the posters must be changed, or the performance postponed. I cannot play the role of the Abbe Con- stantin to-nigh Mlle. Valerie threw aside the white gown of the ingenue which she was mending skillfully. Thé wife of M. Hochary stopped reading the role of Mme. Scott. Hochary, seated at a table before an appetizer, manifested his surprise by a convulsion of his long legs, which, as a rule, expressed the state of hi . “Artemo; sald a_ cavernous is the meaning of this caprice? What of the hox effice money? The expenses of the programmes and the advertisements? You know as well as I do that we are at the end of our_resource: rd that our last venture was a fallure. Don't try your Mlle. Mars on us, my good fellow. We play to-night!” “But can you not understand? I have not a cassock,” gasped the un- happy Artemon, letting his arms fall with dejection. Glances full of consternation were now exchanged. “Cannot a cassock be improvised with a black dress and a cloak of one of the ladies?’ hazarded Hochary. ““The ladies are much too short and slight,” groaned Artemon, who re- Joiced in an imposing corpulencs “As for me, I have only the Figaro costume, Peruvian pantaloons and the black coat for Pierrot, and a flowered morning gown,” said the man- ager, pensively. “For heaven's sake, ladies, aid us with your suggestions. play the piece at any cost.” The situation was critical for the poor artists, whose present tour had been far from successful. The leading man then proposed to gallop at full Bpl;fid to the neighboring city, but this suggestion was not deemed practi- cable. “What is to be done? There is not one garb of the required kind among the properties of this accursed hole,” repeated Hochary, in an outburst of fmpotent rage. Suddenly Artemon struck his forehead violently, and his entire bearing denoted a genuine inspiration. “Ah, my friends,” he exclalmed, in a voice full of emotion, “what a wild hope. So much the worse; I will attempt the adventure. It is our only hope of salvation.” in a few words he explained. -“Come to my arms, my son,” exclalmed M. Hochary, extending his legs with enthusiasm. And Artemon ran off to finish his shaving, to don his black frock coat, and then direct his steps to the cure’s home. Happily for the actor, Jeanne was absent putting the last touches on the church decorations, and it was one of the chorus children who inno- cently opened the door of the rectory and introduced the visitor into the room where the good cure was terminating his devotions. At the sight of “Bettina's wig, and not ‘Where the devil have voice;, “‘what oy ? ‘We must every minute it would go. “About a dozen poor fellows clinging @6‘@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@G)@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ ers and every once in a while I would get a smash over the head or a bad M. Lamfer became fixed upon his seat, lke a statue. His g00d, rosy visage, usually so calm, was how flushed to the roots of his thin, white hair, and instinctively he clasped his book to his breast. nwhile Satan’s instrument bowed deferentially. 0, M. le Cure,” he sald; “it is not alms we ask. Lend us simply your this apparitio; ssock!”” gasped the Abbe Lamier, astonished; “you wish my cas- sock?"’ “The oldest and most worn-out in_your possession, one that you may have thrown aside,”” Artemon hastened to say. “I am to Elay to-night the role of the Abbe Constantin, and I cannot represent my character v\:gthout conforming to its demands and carrying out its sacerdotal dignity. M. Lamier sprang from his seat. “Do you think for a moment, monsieur,” he said, overcome by surprise and anger, ““to profane & gown that has served at worship, and to make mo the accomplice of these sinful amusements? Your ignorance respecting holy things and religion is your only excuse.” “Pardon me, M. le Cure,’ continued the actor, slightly barrassed, but not the less determined, “it would not be first time rellgion has lent its aid to the drama. Do you recall the cele- brated mysteries of the Middle Ages? Moreover, I was educated in a geminary, and it was there I was led to adopt the vocation of actor, in Pl ng the role of Athalie for the fete of the superior.” M. Lamier, without being disarmed, looked again at the actor with new interest. If this unhappy man had followed a bad calling, his point of departure had at least been good. His heart could not, thererore, be cor- roded throughout, and perhaps it would be possible to point out to him the error of his wavys. “How comes it,”” said the abbe, with bitterness, “that you play on Christmas eve?”’ “Alas! M. le Cure,” replied Artemon, with simplicity, “we must eat on that night, as on any other.” M. Lamier was touched to the heart by this reply. “Poor fellow!” The soul of the good priest was filled with grief. He felt too unhappy to refuse the speaker anything. “But,” he groaned, looking plaintively at Artemon, “‘can you not choose another piece rather than expose a servant of God to the risk of such a sacrllege, and also to risk perverting the souls of those disposed to be fer- vent?” ““Oh, Satan! Satan!” thought M. Lamier, overcome, and lowering his eyes at these somewhat too direct praises, “‘am I now about to sin through vanity?” As he was about to utter two prayers to cast the thoughts from his mind Artemon approached him confidentially. “You le Cure, you have never attended the theater.” “But—well, certainly not,” replied the abbe, startled by the very idea. “It {s for that very reason that you regard it as a place of evil. Why, the theater is the school of morals which second those or wne church. Our dramas are simply sermons put into action. There is no piece in which virtue is not lauded and vice and hypocrisy scourged. h, it is a noble work, that of the comedian, in the eyes of those who understand jt.” “What a pity this Artemon is not a preacher,” thought M. Lamier, fas- cinated. ‘‘His large face, closely shaved, with its cheeks like a Dominican, would look well in a pulpit, and his insinuating voice and speaking gestures would be very effective for good.” “Among us, 1 dare to say, there are many good fellows,” continued Artemon. “United households, good mothers of familles, good citizens abound with us.” He proceeded to cite examples: Mile. Valerie, a child of the stage, who was the support of her parents; M. and Mme. Hochary, modeis of conjugal tenderness, One and all heid their hearts in their hands, and never re- fused a service or kindness to a comrade, never refused to do a good work, a good action. “Is an actor ever to be seen on the culprit's stool unless for debt?” said the comedian, Pringing his warm panegyric to a close. “It is true we are, for the most part, roving grasshoppers, and grasshoppers have not any more chance to-day than they had {n La Fontaine's time." The words were spoken with discouragement, owing to the immova- bility of the cure. As he spoke, the actor arose and brushed his hat with gloomy energy. “Well,” he sighed, “we alone shall pass a sad Christmas while all the world besides will be blithe and happy. M. le Cure, pardon me for having taken up so much of your time.” He turned toward the door. The old priest aroused himself. “Jeanne,” he called, in a loud voice, full of the exaltation of trlumphant charity, “bring me at once my new cassock.” “Ah, M. le Cure!” exclaimed the actor, overcome by the unexpected success_and pressing the priest’s hands with effusion. As Jeanne entered with the cassock upon her arm in great folds the pricst rebuked her for loitering. > “Now bring me my shoes with the silver buckles; run quickly; why, a snail would go as fast, is it not so, Monsieur Actor? And a hat also; you must have a hat.” “‘What?’ sald Jeanne, shuddering. ‘'Are you going to lend your clothes to the theater, M. le Cure? Your new cassock. You! who will hold mass at midnight—" “Truly, I do not ask so much,” protested Artemon, confused, while the cure lajd the cassock on his arm. ‘‘An old cassock »~*ld serve my pur- posa. I beg that you will not deprive yourself.” my life if I could only get the roar of the breakers out of my ears and the Scotch pine, while a_kind of rubber has been obtained from the common birch. ‘“What are you thinking,” replied M. Lamier. “Beneath the robes my cassock will not be seen, while yours will be, o to say, under fire, and if the rents were viewed it would be a pity. The ‘Abbe Constantin’ mpust net call forth ridicule.” “How can we ever prove our gratitude?”’ said the actor, his eyes actu- ally fliled with tears, and he reiterated his thanks until je had crossed the threshold of the door. My dear fellow,” said the cure, in & trembling voice, fearing to ap- pear o place a price upon his kindness, “go as quickly as possible, accom-| plish what you have to do, and return when the performance is over to :“F"Id llhe midnight mass. The good God will thus be satisfied with you, nd I also.” On this evening Artemon fairly vibrated with emotions, surpassing him- self in his acting. . When, before the gloriously {lluminated altar, the good pastor extended his arms lovingly above the crowd kneeling before him, he trembled with Joy_to perceive, at the lower end of the lateral aisle, among the workmen| and laborers, a group of men and women with weary faces and varied] costumes, who bowed their heads respectfully under the benediction. The' poor preople had also arranged a little surprise for their benefactor, and the weak but expressive voice of Valerie sang with warmth the “Christ- mas of Adam,” accompanied by a harmonium. hatever may have been their past, or whatsoever the future might haven store for them, for that hour at least a ray of God’s grace had ?‘Ilog their souls, recalling the sweet and holy remembrances of their child-| 00d. :_‘Pcare on earth and good will toward men. Hosanna in the highest!”| The Abbe Lamier, in an ecstacy of mercy and love, raised his dazzled eyes toward the vauited roof, and seemed to see at this sacred moment, among the quivering wings of the angels and the sparkle of the stars, the luminous smile of the Savior who walked upon the roads of S#maria and. Galilee surrounded by the miserable and worthless, and whose feet the sinfui woman had wiped with her golden hair. ‘Have you brought my casscck ?” shouted the actor from the window. g