The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, April 16, 1899, Page 19

THE SAN FRANCOCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, APRIL 16, 1899. 19 ~/ N g8 | , o McClorty's body was car- = s LA ried for burial by his four 6 e partners over the frozen o trail to Dawson, twenty-five ;‘ o~ miles away. ° ssiRdilsy [sRRaRoRuP=FeR=TeRaRaRaRaRaRaReal dmitted his fault > how it is; I-1,” platform eople tha tation, w I am a resp I came Cad wouldn’t agk me to making to be attempted only b scheme tention of d expressed m the belief. no do that dear to h who rhap: t ball, w by the edit cd. But the editor talked him out . S e Sold a $50,000 Mine for a Chromo DN, well known at owner of one of the claims on Hunker Creek—No. has twenty-four men elow. He work, eight or ten s down, om his fires at night or alley for a mile. ered $40,000 for the claim by last winter, declined and has .lopment ever since, e probably worth now Among the workmen i Tom Young, the man 10 to Dawson in 1897 with ng a saloon, but nd whisky so scarce n finding rents so hig S sition it would place he decided to tend bar and weigh gold ‘ P i the perspiring man- for another man instead. On the wall of L the saloon hung a large picture of a returned the woman; “but wood nymph which Morrison had brought placed me in. | go, and until »u h ctress asked. Miss r t meant. retired in dignity and truly good That _there all know. nsiderable doubt. And such who attend it is well under- in con- fter most those whom guests at T save imagine come up ndard. We do not be- ve re are any. ®* * * Think of it! A gelect dance as a moneyy he manager Vilson a of her class with him Among the patrons of the bar was Tom Young, and he took a great fancy to this picture. Young had been shut up in this country for ten yvears to him this particular chromo w velation in art. Tom was then married to or was living with a squaw, their home being a dingy little cabin across the Klondike in what was then an Indian village. But he wanted to take that picture home to his cabin and his squaw, and in exchange for it he offered Morrison the claim No. 39, Hunker. Not much was known of Hunker at that time. Although Discovery and some ad- joining claims away up had been turning out rich dirt, few claims lower down had been more than prospected. However, Dick Low, the man who discovered the riches of Skookum's benches, had just at that time paid $1000 for No. 40, and Mor- rison argued that if so wise or lucky a man might risk so much money he (Mor- rison) could afford to chance so little as a cheap chromo. The trade of the picture for the mine was made and Tom carried the garish thing away in great satisfaction, and Jim went out to look at his purchase. He let a couple of lays that same year. The layman found the pay streak. Jim {8 now his own foreman and Tom, the o QvUDoO0000O00000O0 0O # & & WHIMSIGAL THINGS THAT HAPPEN THERE, w & By Sam BLE wood and sharpening the axes at $1 an hour, Jim says Tom shall have a big share clean-u; there' sure to be for all and the picture of the nymph was hardly worth the gold mine. . Weary Trials of the First Piano in Gamp ptembe at once sat- at he had made no mistake, costly irchase probably w ; the tima hed him three days from the ) on the ped thing put 1 forma t it did not ¥ th ain become with great e silent. The saloon-keeper's wife hammered at it most, rerybody in the town took the chords he loved the 1g his collection of “comics and E and gave place to the next fmpresario on the keys. On the night of the third day the place filled with men of the rough miner athered In groups about the piano, and along the big stove, the faro bank the bar. A few women were in the crowd near the piano, which was doing its ne The group at the faro bank was quiet and absorbed, that at the bar was trying in drunken fashion to keep along with the song, the smoke-blue atmos- phere quivering under the influence of Just tell them that you saw me and they will know the rest; Just tell them that I'm looking well, you know. In the middle of thesong the planist was pulled off the stool, and the next man in the long line waiting to get a whack at the plano was pushed toward it. Though it was the night of the third day this stranger had not yet taken his turn, al- though he had been a constant and impa- tient attendant. This night he had taken a drink or two more than previously. He fell on the stool with a sigh of satisfac- tion and a hiccough. The stranger seated himself and struck the keys wi both hands. Suddenly his face changed, he forgot the ribald crowd about him and with only a few preliminary chords he be- gan to sing “The Holy Ci By eny single voice I have not heard it done better—a round, smooth, strong, cer- tain volce, that sang the song as it was intended it should be sung, with dignity and power, it seemed to me, before the slowly opening gates of the New Jerula- lem. The first verse was not finished before the faro dealer had stopped the game at the faro bank, the bartender lifted his finger to the man who had called for a drink as a sign that he must walt, the $0F @ 0 plonk (b par Jeld jhels CORPSE: “IX[AC, ©LD MNAN SSINGS ©0C0000000000000000000)00000000000° W. Wall. oN YOUR Se the smoke arose and o a blue circle over wound the heads of the hushed and attentive though half-drunken crowd. The singer ned wrapped in his song to its fin- ish, slurring not one note nor hurrying one interval. The light from the dirty and ill-smelling coal oil lamps that hung against and begrimed the walls even when the curtain of tobacco smoke had risen to- ward the rafters could to those at the T end of the room scarcely reveal the singer and his plano on the pedestal as he repeated the closing lines of the song. For the space of say one whole note In- terval the spell inued after the song was finished. Then the singer rose, step- ped down and became one of the crowd again. He was treated as a discovery. They had not known he could,sing, or at least that he could sing that way. The delighted crowd dragged him to the bar, of course, but all the expressions of appreciation were comparatively subdued and respectful, and there was nothing at all of the kind that followed the first ren- dering of “Isabella” and “The New Bully.” The crowd drank to him, and then they clamored for him to sing again. But he said he would not, and he did not; he had sung more than he intended to sing, and neither would he repeat this or sing anything else, and he joined the drinkers around the bar while another de- lighted miner pounded gleefully on the keys of the wéaried piano and roared out his song, “Oh, Tellum That You Saw Me."” The Uncertain Funeral of Jim McGlarty HEN making my tour of the mines last March I stopped at the cabin of James McClarty, a hearty old whiskered Scoteh- man, at No. 3 below Discovery on Hunker Creek. Cabining with him wera two extra gongenial mates as joint own- ers with him in the mine, Harry McDon- 4 AR89 Falo Kenpw led. > HEL?E, : OLy 5 C00C0C000000C0CO000C000000000000000000000000000000000000 1. Panic Created by a Vaudeville Actress Dropping in on a “Strictly Society” Ball. 2. The Difficult Burial of Jim McClarty. 3. Sold a $50,000 Mine for a Fifty-Gent Ghromo. 4. The Three Days' Hilarious Labor of the First Piano in Gamp and Other Whale-Oil Sidelights on Society “as Gonstrued” by Klondike M'ir\ir\g Llaws. 92000000000000000 2000000000000 00 K PN -~ g ~ [eReBuB-FogoReReFaReFeReoFeFaFaFeiy.] Tom Young, an old miner who had been shutinon the Yukon for years, had aclaim staked on Hunkers Creek. One day he wandered intoa saloon where a bathing nymph chromo was tacked to the wall. He was greatly struck with the colors, and as he had no money he offered his claim for the picture. Jim Morrison, the bartender, was working for wages and he accepted the offer. He has just refused $50,000, and Young is now working on the claim for bim. He still has the chromo and calls It his “$50,000 beauty.” fuReBagagegagagaguRaRegagaFaRaaRagei the hard miner's life for years from cholce, because of its comparative inde- pendence, but it had afforded him only an existence heretofore. Now he had struck it rich and modestly enough, as we lay together on a convenient bunk that fag=gegageRugaguguFogegogaReFuFaFagegaFogeayeya] f=R==RuFuFoReFeFuFePegaFugeRuFoFeFaFaPaTagat o] =2 Curioadties or G veryday Life on e Klondike. 306 308 X0¥ O£ 308 30¢ 30 10 3CF X0f XOF 30F 30t 30 ¥ Xt able?” demanded audience so. [eReReeRegeRegaogeReRoRegegegageyel opinlon over the *‘strictly @ “strictly respectable ball of the season” was organized on the Klondike, and all went sweetly till shortly after midnight, when Cad Wilson and several actresses suddenly appeared. “strictly respectable set” fled, and the others in- dignantly demanded of the manager of the affalr that “‘those actresses must be removed.” plexed and nervous manager approached Cad Wil- son and explained the situation. Miss replied the abject manager, “but, but—" “Then get right up on that stage and tell the I won't go till you do.” And the perspiring manager had to do it. Next day the Klondike was bitterly divided in 06 306306 308 306 306 X0F 30 30F 308 306 0% XOF ¢ 3008 Part of the The per- “Ain’t | respect- Wilson. ““Of course,” X G 106 108 106 XK 108 108 06 30 108 X0¢ K08 X 0% X% K% X% respectable ball.”” 106 306 306 30 0% 308 X0 SOF 30 08 306 30 08 00 306 30F 308 308 30K 308 306 308 306 306 306 306 06 X0 X0 X evening watching his partners and a patr of the nefghbors In a bolsterous game of pedro, expressed the confidence that this gtrike would yield him all he needed. I went my v up the creek next morn- ing, but was back at Dawson again in June. McClarty had been taken with the fever, died and was buried so long before that those who loved him most could smile while they told the story of f{t. ‘When he realized that he would not get well he made his will, put everything in shape and, the time arriving, quite con- tent, bade the boys good-by. There re- mained his body in the grimy little cabin. From up and down the creek those who had known him, hearing of his death, gathered about it in great sorrow. The death occurred in the evening and the next morning the partners and two of the men, who had been almost as close to “the old man.” started away for town, carrying the body for burfal in the city cemetery. They had first dressed it as neatly as the old man's “war sack” ad- mitted and then sewed it up In a white plece of tenting, which they let extend out beyond the head and feet, the surplus serving as handles by which they could swing the weight between them over their ghoulders. Only two of them could carry the burden at one time, for the trail was narrow, following the side hill through the trees and underbrush. Down the Klondike in the spring of the year, just after the overflow, the banks along which the trafl runs are wet and muddy and the labor of traveling over it increases. All that afternoon the four men struggled down toward town over the terrible trafl, climbing up and down the muddy banks, constantly shifting the burden from the shoulders of one to the other, and as often drawing help from the bottle, until it became a helpless bot- tle. Then they threw it into the river and stumbled on toward town. THE STRING ©OF T™EN ALeNG THE BAR HELD THEIR GLASSES SUSPEND- -ED . » ‘v It was evening when they arrived there very tired and very thirsty. They turned in at the first saloon, set their burden on the floor and had a long drink of old Scotch. This was very reviving and they had another. There were four in the VL, ¥ party and each must buy the liquor se very tired were they and so glad to be near the end of their journey. Then they picked up the long bag, the contents of which none in the saloon suspected, and went into the street. At the verynext door stood the big sign of a liquor saloon and very cheerily one of the party ordered the others in. Here they called for five glasses and, lifting from the floor the long sack, now covered and soaked with mud and slime, stood it against the bar, one of them crying, *Mac, old man, here's ten thousand blessings ‘on your soul.’” The sack slid along the bar to the floor, and the four in an effort to save it stum- bled and fell with it. Slowly they climbed to their feet one by one and then united in lifting the heavy lump, “It's the first time I ever knew you to turn away from old Scotch, Mac,” said one, “but you're off your liquor now, and it’s not we that are blaming you.” Slowly and unsteadily they swung the sack between them again and lumbered out of the door, the welght swinging with their uncertain steps, striking heav- {ly against the door posts and causing the passers-by to glve them a wide way to avoid contact with its mud and slime. They turned naturally into the next sa- loon, and from it went into the next and the next, all down the Front-street line, the handling of their Burden and the treatment of their dead guest becoming in each more free and reckless. The ghastly jest soon attracted a following, and a crowd surrounded the four and thelr queer charge, and went with them from saloon to saloon, buying drinks in their turn to heighten the effects, until at last a squad of policemen broke through the party, who, glasses in hand, were at the time dancing a cancan about the dirty bag as it was made to sit in & chair at a stud poker table. The police took chargs of the body (which was afterward properly and with buried), and having been advised of all the circumstances and the close relationship between McClarty when living and the dead, they merely, put the quartet to bed.