The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 25, 1898, Page 28

o = 8 THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 25, 189s. THE PARIS PEACE COMMISSION AT THANKSGIVING DINNER By Genevieve Green. N the mind of the average Parisian | casions,” continued the lady, and now Mr. Whitelaw Reid is more of an | emblem of Americanism than the hird of freedom itself. Somehow there is a vague impression afloat that he is President of the United to France and | commander of the American army all | rolled into one. Indeed, could this same average Parisian mind be photographed, | uspect that America would appear lur of of this sort: A vast wil- Worth-clad ladies ows _on the table and in 1bassador ound Whitelaw Reid. I must confess that 1 did not fall very readily into fashion ting Mr. Re American eagle or the 8¢ erty. 1 had not been edu- cate in the woolly West, from d emerged, but such is the Y nt and of associa- risian mind befo many z lustily for Whitelaw my hat with all neces- I am speaking the Of course, connection: could not thus s hat. That I have rather no idea-at all has done to occasion I will confess in all it pected of me I shall be regard- traitor to my colors until T ¢ y conform. seated in the grand salon announcement of dinner. me pinched my arm n this 15t be is su as an Ame ed as somet From “The Old Santa Fe Trail,” by Colonel Henry Inman and Colonel William F. Cody, “Buffalo Bill.” excitedly. She is an American. but having lived a number of yes in Paris feels a justifiable superiority over us uninitiated newcomers. “There he is,” she claimed. “Who?” 1 said. rather viciously, thinking of the black and blue spot that I knew had resulted | from her very rousing pinch. “Why, Mr. Whitelaw Reid!” “I don’t see him,” said, looking vain- 1y in the direction which she had indi- cated. “Right there, talking to the bald-headed man.” *“That isn't White- Jaw Reid,” 1 said positively. “That is General Porter, the Embassador to she re- Em- ssador to France.” Mr. Reid is the he Emkt Well, dor!” Yo, he isn't; isn’t a perpetual vou have the Par Reid is the only A America. “But you are mistaken, ed. “I am sure that M Embassador. ‘Well, I am sure that he is not. said, warming up to the controv “‘He is one of the Peace Commission- and how could he hold two ap- ntments. at once?” he used to be, but he mbassador. 1 see an idea that Mr. erican in or out K she reiterat- Reld is the 2k pe “Oh, well,” she pouted, very pret- tily, yielding in that peculiarly femi- nine way. “It's all the same thing. 1 knew that he was something!” And such is the fame of Mr. Reid. | All Paris knows that he is “something.” which is perhaps quite as satisfactory as a more definite glory. It was announced that Mr. Reid would preside at the University Club dinner, which gave it in advance, from th Parisian point of view, quite a de- gree of eclat. The hour was 7:30. but at 8 o'clock nothing had yet been said about dinner. Mr. Reid had not ar- rived. We were all very patient and very smiling. “It was so delightful to meet Americans and to hear English spoken on every side, were the com- monplace remarks. Vhat a true Thanksgiving this will aid a lady who looked like Queen Victoria. “We Americans have so much to be thankful for this X' 1 was quite sure that she was an- ticipating somebody's after-dinner speech and equally sure that the senti- ment would be much more thrilling in its proper place, after dinner. For who could respond to the most stirring pa- triotic appeal at 8 o'clock with dinner not yvet served and abote all when one had breakfasted in a Paris pensio You alone who have ever lived in Paris under similar conditions will realize the pathos of the situation. “We must have the ‘Star-spangled Banner,’ ” persisted the lady of queenly presence, “and ‘My Country, 'Tis of Thee * I began to suspect the lady of having attended a 5 o'clock tea. Try as I would I could not respond with any ardor whatever. There was a time when I should have attributed the cold- ness to lack of patriotism, when, be it known to my shame, I even confessed that 1 was unpatriotic, arguing that patriotism was egotism, that a country was no better than any other simply because it happened to be my country. But now I know that my foreign exile has banished forever all these old-time notic I have hung & portrait of George Washington with a study from Leonarde da Vinei and even Mr. Mc- Kinley by the side of my adored Dante. No, it was not lack of patriotism, I was sure. “The Star-spangled Ban- ner” was all very well in its place, but how about the turkey and cranberry F?m‘e and the mince pie and pumpkin ple! “We have our New England ances- tors to thank for these pleasant oc- I had no doubt that she was conflict- ing with somebody’'s speech. The shades of our New England ancestors | are alw s honored guests at Thanks. giving dinners, but I fell to wondering how they would thrive in a Paris at- mosphere, these dear old shade Paris and Puritanism. One could hardiy suggest a greater incongruity. I really hoped that they would not be involved too ardently, these unsophisticated shades, for should they wander forth from the banguet hall and' catch a glimpse of “gay Paris” in all of its lighted loveliness, there is no prophesy- Ing the result. At any rate it would not be well to introduce into their eternity any sad regrets, any grim reflections that life for them had been lived in vain. At last there was a stir toward the big banquet hall, Mr. Reid was'ill, he would not appear, his place would be taken by Professor Woodward ' of Columbia Colle a member of the Ex- position Commission, was the word that went forth conveying great disappoint- ment to my American lady with Paris- ian ideas. “No, no, we New gland ¢ L mentally reiterated, after we were seated at the table and I had glanced at the menu. “They would not feel at hame and would probably disgrace us after all. Instead of this gilt-edged d telling of things unpronounceable they would surely expect the chickens and turke and tea, pies and cakes to be all on the table at once. What would our New | England ancestors know about ‘“‘chaud- | froid de fois gras en Belleveel?” How | could he tell from this menu whether | it were going to be big or little, and in | uence how much space to reserve For that matter, how can any not restors,” -ffl"”l'l'.,'u’m f ,/ 77 4 s ) At g 2 1‘.‘/(/‘7 “,Jl‘\-"’ i lfrfi/“"ql/,’udfl/’&,/ i L) ) ;!‘uf.tv "/1,’- { that slie' should use, when the hostess set the example. The knife was grab- bed ferociously and the cake thus transported. It is not inelegance at all in Germany but custom. It seems to me that we have the same right to a national custom of putting our elbows on the table, After the mince ple somebcdy sug- gested My, Country, 'Tis of Thee,” to which I now responded fervently. The ple had been a delusion. Instead of good old-fashioned slices, thick with mince meat and lurking nightmares, it had been done up in fantastic tarts that were called on the menu “gaufrelles.” However, everybody was happy, every- body was patriotic, and the national airs were thrilling in a degree that can only be attained when heard in a for- eign land. We drank the health of the President of the United States, of the Queen of England, of the President of France, and then the oratory com- menced. Professor Woodward made some happy remarks about the great American universities that were repre- sented. The gentleman with the mono- Svok 5 | cle screwed up his eye tiehter than voke our ever and clapped for Yale. At the other end of the table there was applause for Palo Alto and heartier yet for Berkeley. All the world is talking about Berkeley nowadays. The recent improvements have advertised it far and wide, albeit I sometimes hear it spoken of the “Berkeley University in San Francis- co.”” The first speak ace Porter, who told us about his con- nection with different universities and a great deal about himself generally. His remarks --re not at all uninterest- ing, althoygh I saw one or two of the prospective orators fidget. 1 am sure they were thinking of the old defini tion of a bore—a man who talks so SIOUX WAR PARJY ON THE TRAIL of us’ teil?” | 'Seated nmearly opposite me was a voung man who might have stepped | out of a Gibson picture book, divinely | athletic, smooth-faced and perfectly profiled, altogether a most gratifying try in the world could have produced except America or England. We were really rhapsodical, my friends and I, | over his superb appearance and had quite decided that he was in truth the ideal if a little too perfect for the typ- ical American man, when lo! he screwed up his eye in some incompre- hensible fashion and adjusted therein a monocle, Immediately I lost interest. I thought of what an equal rights lad tor: “What a pity that such a magnifi- | cent head should have sv little in it.” This was Thanksgiving, it was an | American occasion, and although I had | not responded as vigorously as I might have done to the star-spangled banner lady, I had at least wanted to look at things of American suggestiveness. Accordingly 1 turned my attention from the gentleman with the monocle and centered it on a superbly costumed lady who was chattering in a very high key in true American fashion. There is no denying it, the American lady is | spoiled by her rasping, irritating voice. | This accusation is an old one, I know I resented it for a long time | myself, but comparison with the ladie of other nations has proven that it is | not unjust. At all events this lady was well worth staring at. Her gown was truly Parisian, her diamonds were truly { American. But the words that were wafted across the table were as damp- ening to my ardor as the monocle had been. “You know we have an owl in our coat of arms,” she explained to the gentleman near her. “We are very proud of it because it is the bird of wisdom.” | __“Ah, my lady fine, my would be Lady | Vere de Vere,” I inwardly exclaimed, “why did you not choose for your in- | signia the good, old, strutting turkey- | gobbler for which your New England | ancestors showed such sensible pref- {erence? Then Thanksgiving day would be vour own peculiar festival and to- night we should all be rejoicing in your heraldry. But is this an American af- fair, I asked myself, amid regrets. ‘With a lady talking about her coat of {arms and a gentleman wearing a mon- ocle seated right before me, it was nec- | essary to turn elsewhere for a sugges- | tion of Americanism. Ah, I found it! | Two ladies, one here and one there, had their elbows on the table. This from | the European point of view is a sure method of identification. The foreign- ers maintain stoutly that it is a na- tional habit of American ladies to put | their elbows on the table, which seems to them the very height of vuigarity. I must confess that I do not see any- thing so terrible in this habit, granting that it is a universal custom among us. Perhaps it is not as elegant as it might be, but at least if is no worse than put- ting the knife in the mouth, which the Germans do invariably, nor so bad as using one's mouchoir at the table, which ‘@ polished Frenchman will do with a' very elegant flourish. A young American lady whom I met this summer in Germany told me in a very droll way of her experience at a swell dinner | party which she had attended not long | before, During the course of the din- ney she had been frequently shocked by the free use of the knife by the guests. She was beginning to doubt the elegance of the circle to which she had been invited when some sort of soft, creamy cake was served. There was nothing in sight for ‘the transpor- tation of this confection but the in- struments which nature had provided and a knife. She was in grave doubt | full well. specimen of manhood, Such as no coun- | had said of a certain California Sena- [, much about himself give you-a chance to talk about your- self. Mr. Robert Cook, the originator of the famous “Bob Cook stroke” of Yale, expatiated on the advantages of college athletics. Then Mr. Bartholdi of Bartholdi remarks in French. Th were all interesting, but I must pass them over. I am s) anxious to get to M of the l.af: tion. »tte Monument Assoc BRISTMAS was in the air as I hurried through the village of Salatualfai, escorted by my scam- pering fox terrier. Christmas was writ large on the excited faces of men, boys and children, rushing along, burdened with poles on which were slung the familiar green creels, full of provisions. It lurked around the chat- tering groups of women and girls, it glowed from the huts where brown busts circled the fire of cocoanut shells. But it clung closest about the large Roman Catholic church, where idlers gazed in at the wide open door and dec- orators busied themselves with the al- tar piece, while the fatherly priest wandered round in kindly fashion, talk- ing to his dark children. The midnight mass was in prepara- tion, and the midnight mass, even at this distance from Apia, is a long- looked for event. There were many “Kalofas” and “Kofas” and some hand shakes to return as I hastened along the narrow, well-trodden path, and I had to answer to ‘‘Lossa Solai,” “Tamatai” and other familiar designa- tions, but one native, proud of his Eng- lish and anxious for distinction, ad- dressed me as ‘‘Missi Madam.” “Missi Madam” had barely time to reach home and finish some household preparations before dark, Damon arriv- ing with his boat in the twilight as tired and perspiring as a mah can well be. But there is always a waterhole now to rush to as a refresher, and a good sleep under the mosquito netting was a preparation for further dissipa- tions; for we meant to join the brown worshipers at midnight mass. So off we were at 11 p. m., lighted alons our winding track bv a small Parisian lan- tern which never anticipated the strange experiences it undergoes. The moon was down—a quite unjustifiable proceeding; we needed moonlight for the harmonies of the situation. But the stars were out in brilliant array, and never was more romantic midnight walk than this, where we wound in and out, now by the starlit waves, now through the dark recesses of mingled palm and breatifruit. As we passed the native (Protestant) missionary’s house there was a sound of rushing feet with cries of “Tusitala! Lossa!” After that we met never a soul till the lighted white church gleamed on our view, and we mingled with the stream of white-robed figures which we at first mistook for choristers, but which proved to be women. The church floor was packed nretty close with squatting worshipers, but, as usual, our elevation was insisted upon. A young native teacher, with an im- portant air, and many genuflexions, se- cured two chairs behind the altar and bustled down with them, seating Da- about which of the two it was expected [ mon among the men and marching me statue fame made some | that he duesn't‘ r. Fearing Gill, the president | Mr. Gill had prepared ponderous 00CO000000D000000000000000C0000000 A BROWN MIDNIGHT MASS. and numerous pages which he pro- ceeded to unroll’ with due solemnity. Then he coughed, then he took a drink of water, then plunged franticaily into a thrilling discourse on Lafavette, a discourse that was overflowing with the “golden gates of lib- erty” and the “luminous pages of his- tory.” An American actor not far from me curled up and took a nap; the man with the monocle tiptoed out of the room; a gentleman to my right drank up his own chartreuse and absent- mindedly reached for mine. There was a general yawn, but Mr. Gill was un- mindful and soared persistently, his voice husky with emotion. Indeed, it was quite as pathetic as Mark ‘Twain weeping over the grave of Adam. Al- together, the speech was worthy of the cause, which in, my opinion is the most unmitigated piece of nonsense, the most absurd of all the absurdities into which our American school children have been inveigled. The same sort of intelligence planned it which is now conducting church fairs for the benefit of Howard Gould. Oh, patriotism, what stupidities are com- mitted in thy name! America in the attitude of contributing a statue to Paris is positively funny. Amer- ica which still produces individu- als who go about with hatchets and smash up works of art, which still possesses cities where they clothe their Venuses and their Apollos in muslin robes de nuit, contributing a statue to Paris, where statues are as common as houses, is too ridiculous for expression. I shall expect to hear of the Klondik- ers issuing a fashion gazette for the benefit of Parisian ladies. The school children of America should keep their statue and learn what a statue is. Paris does mnot need it and will never look at it after it arrives, but even should it be looked at long and hard what would be the result? A man who fought for America is not going to in- spire any thrills or throbs in the bosom of a rrenchman. I understand- full well that the art idea is subordinate to the patriotic idea, but what is it sup- posed to teach? Do we want to say to the Frenchman, “Come over and help us fight, and we will erect your statue in one of your big boule- vards? From all that I can not need Frenchmen to fight for her, she man- hear America does any ages to do ver— well without them. If there be any lesson to be learned from this statue the American youngster should have the lesson, if there be any | pleasure in looking at it he should have the pleasure. There are several places in America where this statue or any other one might be erected to advan- | tage. | Heavens, Americans, erect it in Kan- sas! off to the women's side where I throned it amid a sea of fresh, nicely got up muslins, all ralling neatly to the ankle, | with no vulgar hats to mar them. The | absence of the abominable headgear, | which is de rigueur in the Protestant | gatherings lent dignity to this Roman Catholic congregation, who were all subdued and solemn, devoutly admiring the altar, which was to them a crown- ing glory, hidden'away behind red and white flowers massed in geometrical patterns. I am. sorely afraid T de- OVER THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL WITH BUFFALO BILL AND COL. INMAN OLONEL HENRY INMAN, author of “The Old Santa Fe Trail,” and Colonel Willlam F. Cody, better known as “Buffalo Bill,” have col- laborated in the production of a work of unusual interestand value. “The Great Salt Trail,” which the Mac- millan Company has just issued. That historic highway, first made mem- orable as the route of the Mormons on | their lone hegira to the va.ey of the great inland sea in Utah whereon they established the marvelous city of 'Salt Lake, later confirmed in renown by the expeditions of Fremont, Stansbury and Lauder to the heart of the Rocky Moun- tains, and thence to the blue shores of the Pacific Ocean, is now only.a memory. ward, when that explorer published the memoirs of his expedition, he suggested the policy of opening _intercourse be-~ tween the two oceans. By this means, he argued, the entire command of the fur trade of North America might be ob- tained from latitude forty-eight north to the pole, except in the territory held by | Russia. ~ He also prophesied that the relatively few American adventurers who had enjoyed the monopoly in trap- ping along the northwest coast would in- stantly disappear before a well regulated trade. - Attracted by these considerations, the United States Government fitted out the expedition of Lewls and Clarke, which in 1804-5 went up the Missouri River and re- turned by the same route. ;Other expedi- tions of greater magnitude and with more important results followed. Meanwhile, as early as the first decade of this century the great fur companies sent out expeditions up to the valley of the Platte in charge of their agents to trap the beaver and other animals valu- able for their beautiful skins. The hard- ships of the pioneers in the beginning of a trade which soon assumed gigantic pro- portions form a unique story of suffering and privation. Until the establishment of the trading posts the lives of these men were con- tinuous struggles for a bare existence. As no company could possibly transport provisions sufficient to last beyond the most remote settlements, the men were compelled fo depend entirely upon their rifles for a supply of food. When trading posts were located at convenient dis- tances from one another in the desolate country the chances of the trapper for regular daily meals were considerably enhanced. But it was not until 1832 that the first of these posts was established CQO0COO0000COO0O000Q 00COQQCO20000000C20Q 4 @BRISTMES DONG. By Ina D. Goolbrith. ITH evil fetfered, yet, with tears Born of its sin and shame, Thy World, through all the weary years, Calls, still, upon Thy name— Thy name, O child of Bethlehem!— The Crucified and Slain! Its tides of warring ills to stem, And speak them “peace” again. ‘REFRAIN. Jesus! an prayer we bow Low at Thy shkrin:; Pardon and peace, O Thou Savior divine ! Deaf have we been Thy word to hear, And blind our eyes to see How beautiful the way, and clear, That leads to Heaven and Thee. Yet truant, all, in deed and thought, Lord, irom the Father's throne, Lean to Thy World, so dearly bought, And claim it, still, hine own. REFRAIN. Ruler and King! we bow Low at Thy shrine; Pardon and pea ¢, O Thou Savior divinel 00000000V000000000000000000000000000 tected artificial flowers on that South | Sea altar, but the effect was none the | less gorgeous as the white and scarlet | glowed in the soft lamplivht. One by | one the long waX tapers were lighted, | showing up the small wooden crucifix | rising above the red masses, and the! banner of the Virgin floating overhead. | 1 had haif expected a manger or a holy family group on the feast which the Samoans, like the Italians. name “The Birthday”; but the adornments of the eastern end, with its flowers and lamps and stained glass, were quite sufficient. The hearts of the congrega- tion swelled with glad pride as the priest emerged in the glory of his glit- tering mauve and gold vestments. es- corted by his four red-skirted. white surpliced acolytes, and the solemn in- toning rose and floated around us. The good Marist has not spent his twenty- seven vears in the land for nothing. Never was there a better drilled ‘coun- try congregation with white face: even the Samoan love of noise has, like the Samoan love of finery, been kept u'nder with discriminating authority. You are no longer deafened by half a dozen hymns yelled in sSuccession; the single hymn sung is led by a well trained voice from the men’s side, while the women'’s shriller notes are subdued, following the plump, white-robed dame in front of me. The same holds good of the chanting. While, above the altar steps, the incense floats on the air. in- toning and-responses fall musically, and the brown feet of the acolytes move noiselessly under their scarlet skirts as they perform their duties with the quiet, quick precision of perfect train- ing. What are they thinking of, these dark-skinned folk, as they kneel. and squat cross-legged, and reverently lis- ten to the Marist’s discourse where he stands on the steps, in glittering rai. ment, with his floral background? What ‘are they thinking of as they come up afterward, solemnly and in order, an endless defile, men. women and children, to kneel before the altar rails and receive the sacred wafer on their tongues? Have they any distinct FONY From “The Old Santa Fe Trai The iron horse of commerce has super- seded the famous pony express and the equally famous overland stage, with their records of daredevil adventure and hair- _breadth escape. The wilderness is no lonwer silent; the spell of its enchant- ment is broken; the solitary trapper has vanished from the stern mountain side; the Indian himself has nearly disappeared. In another generation the wild landmarks of the old trail will be almost the only tangible memorials of the men who led the way. It is full time that its history should be written, its records put into imperishable shape. It is fortunate that a part at least of the task has fallen to the hands of a man who began his career as a boy upon the Salt Lake trail and is still a 1v- ing witness of some of the most pictur- esque portions of its early history. The first proposal to explore the interfor of North America was made so early as 1774, by Captain Jonathan Carver of the British army. His intention was to meas- ure the breadth of the continent at its conception of what the whole service means? Seeing how readily they wan- der from church form to church form, their impressions seem to be pretty shallow, but for the time heing these emotional natures are undoubtedly im- pressioned and there is not a smile. or a light glance from the quiet faces that pass me on their way back from ‘com- munion, s B widest part and to find some place on the Pacific Coast where his Government might establish a military post to facili- tate the discovery of a “northwest pass- e’ or a line of communication between udsons Bay and the Pacific. But the ‘War of the Revolutfon defeated this plan. Thirty vears later Sir Alexander o= kenzie crossed the continent on a line which nearly marks the fifty-third de- gree of north latitude. Some time after- EXPRESS PURSUED BY INDIANS by Colonel Henry Inman and Colonel W F. Cody, B uffalo Bi S b at the mouth of Clear Creek by Louis Vasquez. 3 Most people imagine _that it was white man who learned ping from the Indian. The converse is the fact. The savages long before their contact with the white man would silent- Iy creep along the banks of the creeks, hide themselves in the brush on their margin and there patiently - ait for the beaver to show himself and be killed by their long pointed arrows. Nat- The process was a tedious one. were surprised and rejoiced the the art of strap- ur:lly ;lhey when the white man came among th and they saw him walk boldly algng tel:'e‘ streams and place a curious instrument in dll’ll,el‘;vg:el‘. ‘lflict!l; caught the beaver and hel m un e traj toT!):!kex ’:jl;l out. S el e Indians watched the white man’. method from the underbrush sklfllngal';l: creeks, and as soon as his back was turned they stole his trap and carried it off to their village. A long time elapsed before they learned how to use the con- trivance which had excited their curios- ity. 1t was not until the whité man taught them that they learned how to watch the beaver at work in the moon- light, how to know where the beaver houses were, how to place the trap, bait it and then leave it to catch the beaver, But if (hegl owed the white man the blessing of this invention they owed him also the bane of whisky. It has been charged that the American Fur Company used to deal out to them gratuitously strong drugged liquor for pose of preventing the the sale of this | by their competitors in trade and of cre- | ating sickness or inciting contention | among the Indians while under the influ- ence of sudden intoxication. They succeeded even worse than they had_hoped. Bloodshed and death accom- | panied these fatal gifts. The jovial first effects—when Indians might be seen run- ning, whooping, from lodge to lodge, in- viting others to join them. or with mouths full of the coveted firewater drawing the lips of favored friends io close contact, as If to kiss, but really to eject the con own to the friends d into.the quar- tents of their mouths—these s relsome stages exchanged, and many were the wounded and killed. The whisky sold by the traders was gen- erally third or fourth proof whiskydiluted by a mixture of three parts water. The market price of this stuff was three cups for a buffalo robe. Each cup held about three gills. Not satisfied with this extor- tion, the trader frequently cheated the Indian oon as he began to lose his senses illing the cup only half full or adding more water to the decoction. Dim stories of the existence of the Great Salt Lake of Utah had come to the ears of the early trappers. But there is no trustworthy account of any white man having seen it before the time of “Jim" Bridger, the s mountaineer and scout. He discovered it in the winter of 1824-25 by a mere accident. It happened that a party of trappers under command of William H. Ashley, one day_found themselves in what is known as Willow Valley, by Bear River. While lying in camp a discussion arose as to the probabla course of the river. A wager was made. Bridger set out to decide the question. He paddled a long distance, and came out on the Great Salt Lake, whose waters ha tasted and found to be salt. Then he re- raced his lonely journey and reported his covery to his companions. The story of the vast dimensions of the strange inland body of salt water incited ur of the old trappers to paddle to tue lake and explore it in search of streams flowing into it, in hopes of enlarging their fleld of beaver trapping. General John C. Fremont had probably never heard this tale. When on September 6, 1846, he saw for the first time the Great Salt Lake, he compares himself to Balboa gazing upon the Pacific, and as- serts that he “was the first white man to sail upon its saline water: It was in 1847 that the Great Salt Lake became the headquarters of the Mormons. Finding it impossible to live at_peaca in Missouri and Illinois, Brigham Young, the president of the Mormons, led his peo- le west into the wilderness, the first and, 143 in all, arriving in the Salt Lakae Valley on July 24, 1847. TUtah was then Mexican t»rrlun;l):st I{\ 1848 it was acquir- ed by the Unite ates. fl\\'i‘th the gold discoveries of 1849 the State of California was born almost in a single day. The miners who made up its first population soon demanded a more ex- peditious delivery of their mails than ex- tant facilities allowed. The circuitous route from the Atlantic seaboard across the Isthmus of Darien to the Pacific Slope took at least twenty days. The land route was even worse. From the frontiers of civilization to the East there intervened more than 2000 miles of territory unin- habited save by hostile tribes of savages. To cross this desert by stage occupled nearly a month. To reduce this time, to annihilate this space, became an absorb- ing question. But it was net until 1859 that an approximate solution of the prob- lem was reached in the establishment of the pony express by the firm of Russell, Majors and Waddell. This firm was al- ready operating an overland stage line from the Missouri River to Salt Lake City. Stations had been located every ten or twelve miles along this line, but be- tween Salt Lake City and the Pacific new stations had to be constructed for the use of the pony expres: In all 190 stations were soon in readiness for the fast mail route over the barren plains and through the dangerous moun- tains. Four men to each station, eighty experienced riders and 500 horses were presged Into the service. Each rider used three horses on his route, and made an average of thirty-three and one-third miles. Though $5 per letter was the charge, the pony express did not meet expenses. But the managers were not disappointed, for one of their main objects had been to learn whether the route over which the letters were carried could be made a per- manent one for travel during all the sea- sons of the year. This was determined in the affirmative. " One of the most important transactions of the pony express was the transmittal of President Buchanan's last message in December, 1860, from the Missouri River to Sacramento, over 2000 miles, in eight days and a few hours. This astonishing record was beaten in March, 1861, when the inaugural message of President Lin- coln was carried over the same route in seven days and seventeen hours. The last record stands unbeaten in the annals of horseback riding to-day. At all times the duties of the pony ex- ressman were full of hardship and peril. orse and human flesh were strained to the limit. of physical tension. Day or night, in sunshine or storm, under the darkest skies or by the merest giimmer of starlight or moonlight, the brave rider must speed on. Sometimes his path- way led straight across level prairies, oftener it was a zigzag trail, hugging the brink of awful precipi and dark, nar- row canyons, infested with savages on the Jookout for scalps, or road agents eager for booty. If he escaped all danger he must keep himself ready for any emergency that might confront him at the next station. Double duty was frequently assigned him. The man who was to relieve him might be found murdered or so badly wounsed that he could not start. Then the al- ready tired expressman must take his Elfl('e and be off like a shot, although he ad been in the saddle for hours. But if everything was all right no time was lost In transferring the saddle pouch with its precious burden to the new horse and the new rider already in waiting to re- ceive them, then away the latter rushed down the trail and in 2 moment were lost to sight. The mail bags were two pouches of leather, impervious to rain, sealed and strapped to the rider’s saddle before and behind. The pouches were never to con- tain over twenty pounds in weight. Hence the letters ‘or dispatches were re- quired -to be written on the finest tissus paper and limited to half an ounce in welght. Buffalo Bill was a mere lad when he Joined the expressmen. Through the youngest rider of them all, he soon won a reputation for courage and endurance. On one occasion he carried a valuable gfi(‘kage of bank notes. The road agents ad somehow learned that this money was to be. transmitted by pony express. On arriving at one of his relay stations Bill was informed that the rider ahead of him had been murdered. He guessed that this was the work of road agents on the lookout for his charge. So he took a sec- ond pair of saddle pouches, filled them with paper and left them in sight, while the genuine pair he concealed in his blan- ket . saddle. Then he started out once more, carrying his revolver ready for in- stant use. As he drew near a lonesome spot in a valley. the very place for a crime, two men suddenly leaped out from the shrub- bery. Covering him with their rifles, they brought him to a_halt with the words: “Hands up, Pony Express Bill! We know yer, my boy, and what ver carries!” “1 carry the express, and it's hanging for you two if you interfere with me,’ was the plucky answer. *“We don't want you, Billy, unless you force us, to call in your checks; it's what you carry.” Resistance would have meant certain death. Cody slowly unfastemed the pouches, saying as he did so: “Mark my words, men, you'll hang for We'll take chances on that, Bill.” The pouches being mnow unfastened, Cody raised them with one hand. and erving angrily, “If you will have them, take them,” he hurled the pou the head of one of the robbers. As t dodged and turned to pick them fired upon the other with his r his left hand. The bullet shattered Cody then drove his horse a; stooping figure, knocked him over and rode off triumphantly, though a bullet whistled past his ears. ~Arriving at the station on time, he reported what had happened. But he had no time to r compelled to start back with fresh ex- press pouches. He thus made the re- markable ride of 3i4 miles without sleep, stopping only to eat his meals and rest- in# then but a few.moments. he Great #alt Trail. The Macmillan Com- pany, publishers. Price $3 5. for he was ‘What a sensation it would make upon the street to see a group of women in the impossible attitudes assumed by the figures that illustrate the fashion arti- double cles in some of our newspapers!—Bos- ton Transcripte ’