The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, March 5, 1899, Page 17

SAN FRANCISCO, SUNDAY, MARCH 5, 1899. by cReReReFaRuFaPe Ty Sow feg=geReRuReReFuRuFugegeeg=d JStemarkabdl .mkinaped When a 0% 308 08 308 X & : .@o_y and .7.?7*02{57&1 o : San Francisco When Fouse Fere. OHN 98 years, “I remember it ith L was d after an, in g SEBASTIAN, da. rthday,” s fdenti- the breath the cabin to eat This wa p me cabin boy. ers and sisters, time He trange ms that a was fighting of me W L ptain s the Colombo seemed morning moving. Soon one som the told him m tell him M peopl name and ibout the 1. Te from re was mbrero who stood r id. ar us a h ad and smiled at me. After supper the padre a id ‘ves,’ and the night 1 a horse and rode away eman. We traveled for several d It was Senor Pache mualdo Pacheco, and his ranch. he took me rs and hi to this * ng by the to Hollister. There > 50 bad that turned sold the broken-down the proceeds came to in the hospital. t a centenarian ttention of the officials pite the fact that ye is bright and his But his speech is impeded by attacks and his elf as easily to nd with 0 seek T e was d the a ital. For, t 9 brain clear. the dreadful gue does mnot lend , his story unfolded became stronger 1k. the cot > to Cali- a in Though is but three ars and ten, his air is whiter is far le fve than John Se- | KIONAPPED WAEN 11 YEARS OLD. For Sebastian » the old peo- i ple of his adopted race es not show s age. 0000000000000 00000000000000000000 Common Little Lives--Sunday Sermon By Rev. Geo. L. Perin, Boston, Mass. Well, thow good servant; becawse thow hast been faithfwl in a very little, have phow awthority over ten cities.—Luke xix-17. Special to The Sunday Call. mon, even commonplace, and Wwe Erow tired of them. Why fs it? VERY ore will recognize these words S e, Master's answer in the parable of s given one talent, he straightway Lord comes he ten pounds to | as belonging to the to the first ser the t He w po which vested; and whe i 1 of Famil out appreciation makes thing: m commonplace. Supposing the moon were to rise only once a year—then, | whether seen in crescent or with its full e of light, we should all turn out even at midnight to see it; but we have grown in- one pound, ¥ familiar with the sight, and so, perhap The point of rest is to De | areless. Yet to the heart with apprecia- found in the fact that the servant did not | tion it is still just as sily just as & opbor y. beautiful, just as wonderful as it ever - purpose would be served nearly as will prepare for months ahead el et el apeibin lipse of the sun, and all the D i L ds gazing in wonder before the third servant, “Lor hold here 1y adow which slowly shuts, out pound which I have d up in a nap- f day. But every day of the kin.” Probably one iction | sun’s shining, with its warmth and light was to be found i m nd comfort and ing power, is a Xad oo little It seemed to | thousandfold more wonderful than the e ; 1 it was hardly | eclipse. him : e I remember with what wonder 1 took - Bael wihen | My first kuruma ride through the streets back when : of a Japanese city erything- 1 saw, he? A poor, | from the v curious little wagon in which I ! What were his oppor- | . the queer little people swarm- unworthy servé was ridin; derestimate t common k; to underestin wonder. Our own land, our streets, our ; ity, our people are just as wonderful to & - § 0 settings, and | ¢ity, our people mon event with i i ”,'.,T:,”'Un-!m B lonal | the eyes of the stranger; there Isn't a altogether to overestim | commonplace spot in his own town to a P tonal lask vould like A with its occasiona vf;ml“‘ O Im;m of appreéiation. who has not lost the hold the thought b 5 art of seeing things. om 2 high point of view, there | 3 O 2 mmaon days, nor common | So it is with our lives; they are not e s | common and never commonplace, save to s, nor common events, so long as they f B inkad witn some genuine moral pur- |him who grows too familiar to see the rae. And'vet things really do seem com. ' worder and the glory contained therein. e the com- i 2 Poor and mean at the best! |ing around me. the strange litde band; u . ommon little | boX_ houses and shops, to the wondergul What could he do with his common little | 1’ 050 "0 p00a ana’ the old medieval o2 Notanuch, susely: and e e undar-| L¥GEORL FRE o N Jene than Tharoa ed the wh thing and threw away | ous to me. I felt if I were to stay in 1is ofportuntiies; | the country for fifty vears the wonder el @ good deal of that same spirit | of it would newer pass away. But it s tte world b6 We think of our |the same old story. I actually lived there e Nommon, of our opportunities as | only four years, and long before I left I ives as common. of T e come at last to | could ride from end to end.of the great poor and mean, an common day, with its | city of Toklo without a single thrill of 308 0% 908 06 308 CF 3 Y, fageguRugsl and use eep, and when I awoke T felt X had been qut to over the seas - 1 1 began to cry for my father I wanted to - with my t the cap- aid country an tlors were peak the I never nor the not 1 dark gentleman in a 3 lis- The father spoke nd the gentleman pat- ked me 1£ T would like to go with the gentleman. I I was put with the gen- father of Ro- to I soon learned to talk Span- d Sometl with wages, weary in ope: | think Iy initiate degree | tife. me say at life thi: longer ‘Wear; lives, t to poin tests of Grant? - GEN.VALLEIO TAXES HiM SouTH. and longing to fly away from it all. | is commonplace because it is too familiar. | Go into a great cotton mill and look for the first time upon a marvelous machine | weaver tell you if you as haps little »d sees s ‘there. l’is wonderful, it is inter because it R R R R oR-R-RoFoBgeg-Feg-F-F-F=FcFeR=F=F=R=F-F=R=R=R=F=R=R=F=R =g ry of the Oldest acz‘w'ny Californian PR eRegeg-g R R R KRR FoR-E=g-F= SRR oo =S =Fep=R=g-R=R=F-R=R=FFeF=FeF=F=F=F=F=F=F=R=FeR=R=FegeF=F=3 Came to California in 7872, mes I go to a carpenter’s ship and | see a man skillfully using tool after tool a seem to me scarcely But the paor carpenter toils away day after day for what he regards as poor dexterity and intelligence ' that less than marvelous. perhaps discontented, troubled, with his lot, disgusted with life It ation. But what will the poor bout it? ~The wonder is ail gone, ty all gone, interest all gone; per- ve loathing left. And yet, in all these spheres what the un- It'is curious, it efting to the last ; but the one who is Hving in it has grown so famillar with it that his interest is all gone and he becomes weary and disheartened. So in every walk and eves housekeeper feels work it, in the The teacher feels it, the lawyer feels it, the hanic feels it, and each one comes to last: “Oh, what a commonplace s is I am leading!” Commonplace is familiar, and there is no an appreciative heart to see the wonder and glory of it all. i v as we grow of our common little hey have their value, and I want t out a few important facts. In the first place, we find here the real f character. What was the real measure and test in the .ife of General It was measured not on the bat- him what he | RS A VAQUERO tlefleld, but in his home at Galena, in communication with his officers around the camp fire, in the hours when off duty | and off his guard. What was the true measure of President Lincoln? There | are those who say it 18 to be found in the heroic patience with which he en- | dured the four years' struggle in the White House. But far more truly was the measure of the man taken in the years of preliminary preparation as rail gplitter, surveyor, law student, success- ful lawyer and politiclan on the frontier of TIllinois. Many men acquit themselves splenglid- Iy on public occasions, rise to great heights of eloquence and power when in view of other men, who are mean and | petulant and critica. and overbearing and difficult to live with in private. It is not so difficult to be great on great occa- foR=R-ReB-ReF-ReR-oR-F-FoFeg-Rog-F-FoR-FoR-RoReFoR-F-Peg-R=RoF-F-L-F-F-2-F=F-F-F-F-F=R=F=F-R=F-R=R =R =R =i =2 o] sfons; the blood is up, courage runs high, theére is inspiration and hope. How much more difficult it is to be great amid the grinding cares and toils of one's common life from day to day! How hard to be great when there is no banner, no music, no applauding multitude—but when, si- lent and lonely, one sees the simple du- tles needing to be done without a word of praise or a ray of hope. How many brilliant women there are.in the face of other men and women, social stars and suns, fitted to.dazzle and charm and in- terest by their. graces of manner or cul- ture of mind, who are absolutély unin- teresting and nearly useless amid the petty cares and stmple duties of life. It is €0 much harder to be great in common life than to be great on the special oc- casion. No; for the. real tests of life you shall not go to the battlefield, nor the Senate chambér, nor the ballroom, nor the stock hange, mor the iegal forum. You shall go to the home and study the spirit of the girl In the kitchen who does the drudgery of the family life, or see the patfent wife and mother, with infinite care and painstaking doing the simple things from day to day which need to be done to hold the home intact; or to the husband returning after his day of tofl in shop or fleld or office, and watch nis intercourse with wife and child and servant, or follow him back again on the morrow and see how he acquits himself at his work. 1Is he brave, is he patient, is he earnest, is he temperate in this common little life which he is living from day to day? The test is there. R R oR R R F-R-F-R-3-F-8--F-F-F-3-F-F-3-3-F-F-F=F=-F=R-F=F==g =R R =R uR =g g e e R e e e e Led a thyz//ar Life of Ups and Downs and YPow Fe Has Reached the Gnd-- the HAlmathouse. f=X=2-F-3-3-2:F:-F=F=F=:ReReR=RuoPeR=Ra=ReRaF =] K06 K06 106 H00 100008 106 100 200108 0 400 506 0% J00 100 430 400 0K 08 0 06 108 108 108 108 100 108 40k ¢ [eR=R-F-3--F-F-F-FoF-FoR-E-F-F-F=R=F=F=R= R Er] f=RaRaRuRaRaRaRaRaRaRuRaR=Ta] ish, and the senor was always very penings during the great gold excitement kind to me. He wrote down my name and of the date that we put into port and saxd “I kept store on North Fork. T put some that If ever he got a chance he would let money ir itie but thoy chentcd 2o my parents know what had become of is the HeZQimmlsces. that | cxchtuy I grew up just like the othe xI- period in the history of the LT s and I was never lonesome 0T has wiped his memory el o T Montreal. ' and his doi 1t while the afterward, when young Valiejo, General Vallejo, took me with him ther, sent him there of land that and the immedi- the memo- pier days come to crowd out the present enor V: to manage the large tracts joyless happen ars. the Vallejos owned around what is now n has not en the days Santa Rosa. At the mission of San Fran- of phountiful hospit: when the Mexi- cisco Solano was a padre and I used 0 capg' doors swung wide open for padre, talk English with him. General Va Beggar or senor: Sinte tha dagatas told him my story and he wrote to the gooiy : b ts: nights passed Through Monteres nts heard of me. American Consul : dango and this Consul my par softly strumming on the r. “But T did not want to go back At times he forgets that he is on a nar- treal. .I loved_my friends, the V row With a gay Pachecos and the rest of them too much .4 aveling MEty to leave them. miles to attend some wed here rich “General ,Vallejo always treated the ang poor will feast and MmO Americans- kindly, but they took every- . gweek The caval ays would thing away ‘from him and from all the eio, & s & IGEE rest of the Mexicans, who had this coun- .v.q 144 twinkling feet awaited him at try long b the Americans came to journey’s end. Vh o los' v best frienc b 2 RN L en there are mioments when John Se- T O e STt ioior s Bt bastian realizes his present plight. But RUIEd hins IOt el th a0t D) “° those moments are fortunately few. He his heart. All my ot} Were: . ie his ste s 2% ve the year treated the same Now th re all 41t he came to Calif 'in a sim- poor; once they had everything. et e te s o . ¥Erave T/got 10 one to take cate cf.me?! Do SUBIENOcward manner. Makcdads I'never married, and my friends are all "5 o g005 not say it boastfully. He Mexicans, and they are dead or too poor 4 ! $ & rehe £ " does not wish to be enrolled as the first to help me. What little they have they g I 2 e taey aye and oldest pioneer. He will have nothing will share with me, but I cannot accept 519 Lol sociotans e anything from their small savi s e |l never made friends among the gringos. e T They did not treat the Mexican right, and o St e e I hate them.” Tast week Set an was removed from It is like showing the proverbial red rag the County Hospital to the Almshouse, where he eéxpects to end his days. e~ = While a crowd of Harvard boys-wers celebrating the Pennsylvania game in he to the bull to mention the gringo to John Sebastian. Attempt to defend the Ameri- cans and his weak gray eyes light up with an intense hatred. He immediately re- & fuses to talk, and his anger usually CAfe of a Boston hotel. one of the students brings on an #sthmatle attack. became Infatuated with a gorgeous white ‘Addressed in Spanish, however, he Waistcoat worn by one of the colored told his story willingly and in a very Waiters. He called the man and said to clear, connected manner, considering his him. “I want to buy that waistco: hat you id the man. I just want to buy it. take i vears. Tnough he often wandered from want of that west, boss? the main thread of his interesting story he would never say anything of the hap- ‘What will you rod deal ' of guffawing and some tion, the colored man allowed that he would take five dollars for it. “Done,” said the Harvard man, and he pulled out a five-dollar bill and ve it to the negro, who began to pull off the waistcoat. ““Oh, you needn’t do that,” said the stu- I don’t want you to give it to me ranted to feel that I owned that teoa ‘Lhe negro went to t on his own ta- when the student called to him, “ome here “What you want, boss?"” The student called the negro up-close, dipped his own fingers into a plate of cranberry ce, and with them proceeded to mark a big “H” on the middle of the front of the white waistcoat—his waist- coat! —_——— vou have a little sister at your d the grocer to a small boy. * replied Johnny. _like her?” was the grocer's next question. 1 wish it was a boy,” said Johnny, “so I could play marbles with him, an’ ball, an’ all tho things when he got bigger.” “Well,” said the grocer, “why don't you exchange your little sistér for a boy?” Johnny ‘reflected for a minute, then said, rather sorrowfully: We can’t now. 1It's too late. We've used her four da 0000000000000 00000O000LOOC00CO00000 Most Thrilling Race on Record, MONG all the wonders of the last]of 1127 yards, or within 633 vards of the twenty years, theré have been few and the swiftest living walker, to things more remarkable than the | rival W. Perkins' speed in 1574, when he development of speed in cyeling. | covered a mile in 6 minutes 23 seconds, It seems but yesterday that there | would require a start of no less than 1294 were only four men in the world | yards, leaving him little over a quarter who could ride a mile on a track under | of mile to cover. 3 minutes, and that Cortis’ feat of com-| Our handicap for the most passing twenty miles within an hour was | of all time stands thus: a world's wonder. To-day Major Tay or, | Persimmon, 20 yard: the lightning black rider of the States,|skater, 63 vards; runner, 1054 yards can ride a mile in 1 minute, 412-5 seconds, | racing elght, 1127 yards: and walker. 139 or, with a flylng start, in 92 seconds, a|yards. A race with these handicaps would rate of 39 miles an hour; and Elkes, an- | furnish the closest finlsh in sporting anc other American racer, has covered 34| pnajs, for all the competitors would break miles 1220 yards within the hour. | th St osactlc 4 "After thirty years of duveismment the | the tape at exactly the same moment, un- xciting race bicyele scratch; i trotter, 318 yards cycle has at last eclipsed In speed every | vame 1n ba o oege, CLC the record and means of traveling except the locomotive. e Bl 2 3£ B v e e e Lo omotIve. |, To_introduce the locomotive into our thiat’ ever fiashed Toutid Tattenham COF{ "mu_x of the century” race, we will credit ner 4 start and a beating in a mile race, | .t With & speed of @ miles an hour, and D i Sjart and a beating In a mile race. | snould have to place it 1214 yards behind even would be left panting in the rear. | Sl | To fliustrate the relative speeds of the |, TheSpeed per hour developed by the dif different methods of human progression, | [eT€nt ¢ompetitors would be: Locomotive, let us in fancy start them all in a mile | % miles: t thoroughbred, a handicap. No ch thrilling tter, 29; skater, ever been seen on any track ing eight, about mi 141 rage has nd it would v g f | . over 91-3 miles an h be worth traveling a thousand miles to | Mo an hour. oo it & ol t more marvelous even than the cy- We.must place Major Taylor on msffr“" £ apeed 1z his power of endurance. cycle at atch. We will take Per: | To cover a mile in 1 minute 412-5 second Rt "mon In his marvelous form of Derby day, | 2nd 34 miles 1 20 yards in an hour is by no 1808; when he covered the course-in the | astounding as to maintain a astonishing time of 2 minutes 42 seconds, | "2'¢ 3 miles.an hour for 24 consec- and, mounting Watts on his back, we will | Utive hours, as M. Cordang did in his mar- give him 20 yards start of the bleycle. | YClous day’s ride at the Crystal Palace, in The fastest mile ever trotted is eredited | 1897 to Alix, who brought down the mile time| The stupendous nature of this feat be- to 2 minutes, 33.4 seconds. ur cyclist will | COmes apparent when we consider that he be able to:give this lightning trotter a | could h:ntirlxn sixty-one of the swiftest start of 818 yards. The fastest mile ever | horses in England to a standstill, racing covered on skates was J. Nilsson's mile | them one after the other for ten miles at Montreal, which he covered in 2 min- | €ach; probably the most wonderful evi- utes 414 seconds, a speed which would | dence of human endurance and perfect mechanism ever seen in the world’s his- tory. Almost equally remarkable, when consider the difficulties of surface ent and weather are the lon The winning Oxford crew of 1893 cov- ;‘Q EN: ords on l.hlc rn';ldt Last i}('f ered the course, from Putney to Mortlake, | gio%he vond. in twerty feur hours, admit of a start of 63 yards from Taylor. ‘W. G. George, in 1886, ran a mile in four minutes 12% seconds, and would require a start of mo“less than 1054 yards, or 154 yards more. than half the mile. wa gradi- at the rate of 4 minutes 42 seconds a mile, | taining an average speed of nearlv and would. claim a start.from the cyclist | een miles an hour.