The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, May 7, 1899, Page 18

AMELIA DUNN, - Mrs. M [ RIZONA, April 3.—Several hun- dred women on the desert plains and among the mountains and | canyons in the Southwest Territo- | ries to be well up to- ward the top of the catalogue of those who have succeeded in fields of hu- for years occupied exclusiv While women in the citles more populous parts of the Union are vinning success In the professions, in <, and in trades, alongside of thelr deserve )ands and brothers, there are women ery part of the Territorles svho are | t o adapting themselves to crude | onments, but also win- | and fame in pursults that to be out of the question ears ago. The immi- | ories in the last two Sngland and the Mid- | es has developed many a heroine. of young women, carefully and rly reared in old-fashioned homes in ave come out here with hus bands and brothers, and when they have adapted themselves to their new situa- | and ed themselves to a brave a livellhood in a strange e from everything connected training, some pletur- | aordinary results have | 1t. i , there is the case of Mrs. Marion Phelps, who has become an ex- or instanc cellent gold mining prospector in the Chioride and White Hills region fn Mo- Cou ¥ Arizona. Ex-Governor | ¥ of Arizona is authority for the | ment that is as good judge ere is in t outhwest of the value of ledges of low grade gold ore. Her hus- | band was te of a New England scientific , and marrying when but 22 years of age, he came West with his | young wife. He soon sank all his little | fortune in a placer mine that had been | abundantly salted for his.benefit. His | | | | | wife tramped over the mountains, trav- eled across burning deserts, lived in lone- vons, camped on bleak and barren sides, slept in chaparral and dwelt among Indians for several years, while young Phelps searched for gold mines. Mrs. Phelps shared every hard- ship with her husband, and in time she developed into a correct and quick ob- server of pay rock, and becarhe as well versed as any ome in that region in all the formations of auriferous rocks, the slant, frangibflity and dip of ledges. When her husband fell from a cliff one day in Willlams Canyon and was killed, the young woman was left with two small | dren and a few During the 3 that s nd h band had be barely subsisting, while they prospected for mines, neither of them had ever writ- ten to a relative in the Enst about fhelr | condition and their struggle with p erty Not a word did she write now about her distress. Pride Is a powerful characteristic in the' new.woman of the West. With the help of several miner friends, Mrs. Phelps built a rude eabim, sufficient for comfopt in the semi-tropic latitudes of Arizona, and with her own hands culti- | vated an area of valley land about her cabin. She grew vegetables g market for all shecould rai $ng town of Kingman, a few.miles away. She never lost her: interest in ‘seeking | mines, and when her children were a year or two older and could be left with othere | she went forth to prospeet through Wil- | liams Canyon, where she and her husband had once found evidence of gold-bearing rock. She prospected there for several weeks at a time during the summer; going | back to her cabin home occasionally to look after her children and their Indian squaw nurse and to cultivate anew her | vegetable farm. Alofig in the fall she located two claims, sélling one for $2000. , | This gave her the capital she needed, and from the day in March, 1893, when the money was paid her, she has been an as- | sayer and an expert in low grade gold | quartz. Her -opinions are sought after from Yuma tg Albuquerque, and she | llars ros: Mrs. Marion PreLps, ] DROSPECTOR. Mars.McrorDanELs, CATTLE RASER. ( VAQUERQ. ARY NUGENT, APTURED IHBN | girl | tion and starvation. | study, § i LASS ) \\ & TWE APACHES PCAUGHT By MRS NUGENT.. DANIELS | west who are heroines not because they i OING have won success in new and extraordi- nary flelds of labor or have overcome tre- mendous odds in the struggle for finan- clal reward. The daily experiences of very many women in their frontier homes are good reason for putting them on the roll of honor. The people in the upper Gila Valley, in Pinal County, have never ceased telling of a deed of rare bravery done by Mrs. Victor Danfels some twenty-five miles southwest of Florence in the summer of 1883. The | Danielses came from New Jersey and set- tled on a cattle ranch, fifteen miles from | the nearest neighbor. Mrs. Daniels was born and reared in Brooklyn, and soon adapted herself in her new home to the strange environment. Her husband had| with great difficulty and constant | watchfulness got together a bunch of cows, about fifty in all, and was endeav- oring to start a little herd. Mrs. Daniels | had the herding of them, as well as the earns a gond compesence every year in fees from Eastern people, who have con- fidence that what she tells them about gold mines is trustworthy. In some she gets as high as $100 for a few days’ time. Her children are in school at Phoenix. Then there is Miss Amelia Dunn, who is regarded in the region of Holbrook, Navajo County cowboy In the Southwe the Territories knows and_her success among a fortnight passes t about Miss "Melie’s broncos and not started on the rounds of pre: in Arizona and New Mexico. Dunns came from the vicinity of Elmira, N. Y. Mr. Dunn, the father, was an in- valld with consumption, and he settled at Deming and bought cattle, because caring for them would earn him money and keep him out of doors at the same time. That was was a little tot of a girl. After a long and hard experience with marauding Navajoes, who, at different times, stole three-fourths of the little herd of cattle on the Dunn ranch and in- timidated the family so that they died a thousand deaths while barricaded for a week at a time in the dug-out cellar under the rude ranch home, Mr. Dunn rounded up some 30 cattle. When Amelia was 17 years old her father died. She had been with him almost daily for sev- eral years in his rides across the mesas, among the foothills and through arroyos, so she was as well informed about the cattle business as her father. It was nat- ural that when he died she became his successor. It took several years f to develop good business sense—to know beef values, when to sell her stock, when to ship and how to graze her herd most economically. She was apt, and before she was 21 years old her opinion was authority among the cattlemen In that region. She knows every detall of the ranch work and has performed some part of all phases of the career of a cow- boy of the Southwest. From 1589 to 1897 the years were gener- ally sorry ones for even experienced cat- tle ranchmen In the drought-stricken regions of the Southwest, but Melie Dunn had the foresight to drive her beeves to valleys, where the herd fattened while thousands of other cattle died of exhaus- The young woman' dutles as viquero and proprietor of some 4600 cattle often take her 150 and 200 miles or more from home across sandy wastes and among the foothills and mountains, as the cattle must be kept moving to feed ases t. Every bout 'Melie Dunn tle, and hardly some new story attle is { well. Frequently during the rainy sea- son some of the cattle hécomé mired in the mud along creeks where t graze or where they wade-in to drink. Then | { comes the hardest part-of the work. With true ecowboy skill she throws the lariat over the slender branching horns, while the other end of the long phenomenallly strong rawhide rope is fastened to the saddle. ‘Then a steady pull on the part of the pony draws. the imprisoned animal to a place of safety on Ary ground. She has a large herd for one person to handle, but with the assistance of two well-trained dogs she does it: While on the range“Miss Dunn dresses in cowboy fashilon;” with wide-brimmed white ‘felt hat, long" gauntlet gloves, a lariat colled about the saddlehorn and a revolver at her belt, and she rides the wildest brorco with thorough ease. When off duty she is a quiet, unassuming youn lady, the ‘last one that would. be sus- pected of such masculine accomplish- ments,” ' “I only regret,”. she said recently to a newspaper man, ‘‘that I have never had an opportunity ito, gain any of ‘the wo- | manly accomplishments in the way of literature and music.. I fear I would be laughed at by the young wo- men in the East if I should go among them. But I have made good money and some day I may have some of the longed- for femininer accomplishments.” There are many women in the South- n 1877, when Miss 'Melie | the | care of the house. One day, when her | husband had gone twenty miles to the | store, she was compelled to leave the | cattle grazing, while she looked after a sick baby at home. two men ride from behind the foothills and start the cattle off full canter, ab- ducting the whole bunch. She wasted not a minute, but, mounting Suddenly she saw | her bronco, was 2, i z P RSVICTOR DANIELS. after them. The men probably thought themselves undiscov- ered, and in the bustle of hurrying on the stock did not hear the pattering hoofs of the pursuer’s pony as she came cantering | 0000000000000 00CC00000000000000000000O0000000000000CO WHAT IT MEANS TO BE AN ACTRESS as the most capable girl | one n | the le: | | | Florence. | O be perfectly frank at the be- ginning, it should be stated that an actress—a true actress, I | mean—is born, not made. Why? | Because the chief qualities which she must possess are born with her; she must have health, strength, a good physique, brains, aptitude, imagi- nation, memory and judgment. These aside from a generous share of instinct- ive talent and a goodly quantity of that indescribable and indefinable something which we call magnetism. Some of these essentials any girl will at once perceive are not to be cultivat- | ed. Therefore is the true actress born and not made. I have not placed per- sonal beauty in the category of essen- tlals, because it is not an essential, but | an indisputed aid. I say this because | one need only to go over the list of the greatest actresses to see at once that they were not and are not all beautiful women. Genius always rises above per- ‘sunul beauty, .but it must be true | genius. And as there is so little of ab- | solute genius in the world, an attract- ive face becomes an assistance to the | actress. { In an educational way an actress can | scarcely have too thorough, too broad or too complete a training. An intel- ligent actress, one who loves her art, is never through studying and developing. Therefore she must have a good mental basis to begin with, and with it a de- sire to learn and constantly learn as she progresses. To be more explicit, the very least she can do with is the | best of common school educations, and | with this a knowledge of languages— | French at least. She must have an aptness for musie, as she is liable at |any time to be ealled- upon in some part to play or sing. Fencing and dancing |add to her grace, but these may be ac- quired and used as demanded. And, not least of all, the voice of the girl who aspires to become an actress must not only be carefully trained, but its use must be understood. A volce that is naturally soft, full and sym- | pathetic has & 'charm all its own, but much can be-accomplished. by a knowl- edge of its use, and very little, -even with the sweetest voice, if there is no knowledge used in {ts handling. Like- wise must there be this knowledge to lavold an abuse- of the voice. There- | fore, the mere " possession of a good voice is not by any means all and the chief requisite. But granted all the necessary quali- fications and some to.spare, it is grow- ing more and more difficult for a young woman to get upon the legitimate stage —almost fmpossible to obtain a small | part at the very beginnirg. The dra- | matic schools are frequently a great help. They teach declamation, dramat- ic deportment and many necessary ! things, and oftén-are able to place their | graduates in small parts in companies. | Performances are given by the students | during the: school year to which dra- matic. managers are invited. To a | young woman who cannot afford the time or money to attend the school a | letter of introduction from some prom- | inent person known to the manager of ‘means constant hotel bills. By Viola Allen. Miss Allen's experiences on the stage make her singularly well fitted to write intelligently of the life of an actress ading lady member of two ‘‘stock” companies: those of the Boston Museum and the Empire Theater of New York supported the leading actors of the time—the elder Salvini, Jos:ph Jefferson, Lawrence Barrgtt, John McCullough and William J. This year she made her success’ul debut as a “'star”’ in Hall Caine's dramatization of *‘The Christian.” a dramatic company may obtain the presentor a grain more consideration. But such a girl should remember that a manager has many such applications and comparatively few parts. She will probably be engaged as an ‘“‘extra.” Now the hard struggle has fairly be- gun. H next step or hope is that of “understudy.” This means that she must be always ready to play the part she understudies in case of the absence or illness of the principal, usually at short notice. When this event trans- pires her opportunity has arrived. She must gather together her forces, subdue all nervousness—so much easier said than done—and acquit herself as cred- itably as she can. After the perform- ance she will not need to be told wheth- er it was good or bad. She will in- stinctively feel the effect her words and actions have upon if the audience, and he produced the im- If she has played sfully, or even with £ se, the management will sooner or recognize it. By recognition I mean the offer of some small part, perhaps not as good as the one she understudied, but at least it is a beginning, and her name makes its first appearance on the programme. Now her failure or success depends largely—very largely indeed—upon her- self. The public seems to be interested in the question of salary paid to a woman on the stage. It is a subject that has been greatly exaggerated, and one about which it is really difficult to make any fixed statement. It is vari- able—according to a girl’s talents, the demand she has created for her ser- vices and her business ability. The average salary does not exceed from $50 to $75 a week. There are a great num- ber paid less than this, and many are paid more. In first-class companies the salarles may run from $256 to $126 a week, exclusive of leading roles. I am not speaking of the ‘‘extras,” who have to content themselves with $8 and $10 a week, but of those playing the “speak- ing” parts. Of course, with progress the salary increases. A leadihg woman'’s salary may range from $75 to-$300, ac- cording to the management and class of attraction in which she appears, and in certain cases it may reach a still higher figure. At the first glance it seems as if the young woman on the. stage- receives a very liberal remuneration. She does, but her expenses . ave- .censiderably larger than they would be in almost any other vocation. She will undoubt- edly have to travel much, and that In large cities this: will probably amount to $21 a week—at $3 & day—while in smaller towns the.hotels are usually cheaper. Then her laundry and other petty but necessary expenses mount up to at least $25 a week. Let us consider a young woman in a first-class company—one who has had several seasons’ experience and who re- ceives $60 a week—a very good salary as the average goes. Deducting her weekly expenses of $25, she has $35 left. But she has to make up her outlay spent on gowns and hats at the be- ginning of the season. If her part calls for playing & poor girl who wears shabby clothes she probably -has old home dresses that shle uses for the pur- pose, and of course this is clear gain. But more often she- requires three or she will know pression she d | glance. Za=——. il up behind. Suddenly one of the men gave a yell and tumbled backward off his sad- | dle, with the noose of a lariat tight | around his throat. Frightened, the othar | turned to see a furious woman facing him “What are you doing?”’ she demanded. Who are you?” he responded grufly. | “I own these cattle, and you have got | to help me drive them back where you | got them.” As she held a cocked revolver at his head he decided to submit, and, with her following closely, rode around the scat- tered herd and turned their heads home- ward. For three miles the stock was driven, and then, with a warning not to look backward, the depredator was dis- | missed. He fled without a backward His companion, choked to death | and with neck broken, was found among | the chaparral, but there was never any | inquiry as to the manner of his taking off. It was enough to know that he had | been engaged in cattle stealing and that | summary justice had been visited upon him. The Danielses became in time well- | to-do, and are residents of San Bernar- | dino, Cal. The women who have gone with their husbands or brothers to make homes down in the famous gold mining region of | Tombstone, in Southern Arizona, are ac- counted among the most daring of any in the Territories in the last ten years | The Apache Indians, when Geronimo was She has been She has | four smart gowns and the many acces- sories that accompany them. Two hundred and fifty dollar: a small al- | lowance for these, particularly in New | York, where dressmakers’ and mil- liners’ bills are ruinously high. Then it must be remembered that the aver- age theatrical season is of only thirty weeks’ duration, so there are apt to be twenty-two weeks of inactivity in the year. By a little mental arithmetic | it will be seen that, although the young | woman may actually receive $1800 dur- | ing a season, her running expenses | amount to just $1000, and allowing $200 | for her private wardrobe, she only | saves $600. This is not saved after all | if she is entirely dependent upon her own efforts, as it must tide her over the summer. Then the stage dresses may need replacing during the season. There is much wear in the hurried fas- tening and unfastening of a gown eight times a week, and perhaps trailing it up and down uncarpeted stairs. The actress has little time for social life. The more successful she is the less leisure she has and the greater in- roads her work makes upon her time and strength. It is often a genuine re- gret to have to decline much of the | delightful hospitality extended to her, | but this is a denial she must urge upon herself, according to her own good judgment, whether it must always be | work first and play afterward. She has | no right to come to her evening's work fagged and tired from & round of teas and calls. She injures herself and her art, and she is not dealing fairly with her audience. She is up late every night, and although I do not believe in wasting a whole morning in bed, she cannot have more than sufficient sleep if she breakfasts at 10, and if she is wise she will take a res. before her early diner. She must remember that her health and strength mean every- thing to her. | During the “run” of a play her days | are her own for study, exercise and re- creation, e cepting matinee afternoons | and an occasional rehearsal, but before | the production of a new play she is probabl-- called to rehearsal at 11 and may not leave the theater until 5 in the afternoon—a hard day’s work, and | such will be the order of her days dur- | ing the three to flve weeks of prepara- | tion which a play requires before pre- | sentation. | When traveling she is not so much the mistress of her time, as a great deal of it is spent on the cars. Travel be- comes the bane of an actress’ life. At first the girl who has never been a hun- dred miles from home will enjoy the new cities and new sights. But after | a season or two living in a couple of trunks grows decidedly monotonous, and she hails with delight the “stand” | of a couple of weeks when she can | really shake out her skirts and settle | herself for a little sojourn. The actual | traveling is made as easy as possible | in first-class companies. It will be, I am sure, easily seen from the foregoing that there is no royal road to honest and genuine success on | the stage”other than'that traveled by | all who have achieved distinction in any fleld—hard work. And the recom- pense is the honor and fame which her art brings her. and the satisfaction of having accomplished somethine for her- selfyanu for others In this big, busy worl@ —Ladies’ Home Journal, | | | | | | their chief, made frequent incursions into | that part of the country and the outrages ttlers and ranch- committed in homes of men among the mountains and foothills | are among the most at and hor- | rible deeds ever done bs E: With | conquering of the aches some rs ago by General Miles the fearful slaughter of settlers’ families and cattle men came to an end, but the| women who still live in that region de- serve credit for frequent acts of bravery and coolness in their daily life. An in- stance of this is as follow Mrs. Mary Nugent, her husband and | three little children came from a little town in Pennsylvania several years ago. They made their home seventeen miles south of Tombstone, where they took up one of Uncle Sam's land claims and opened a little merchandise store for the cowboys and Mexicans. Both husband and wife became accustomed to seeing Apache Indians about, and they often | gave the savages cast-off clothing. One day in June, 1885, while Mr. Nu- | gent had gone some twenty-five miles | across country to a ranch house, two strapping strange Apaches, armed with | knives, suddenly appeared in the set- | tler's home. Mrs. Nugent was there with a 12-year-old son and a smaller daughter. There had been reports for weeks among the settlers that Apache Kid and his gang | of murderous thieves were marauding the region. Mrs. Nugent was sure she had to | deal with the most cruel and most inhu- | man Indians in the country. That the | men had watched her husband ride away from the house she knew full well. It would be uselss to try to deceive the red- skins. The woman Instantly decided on a | course of actlon. Speaking as best she could in a jargon of English and Apache she boldly said that her husband would be | away all day and that she was glad the Indians had come, because she wanted | them to help her at some work. That gave the savages a feeling that they need not hurry about whatever sinister plans they had in regard to the Nugent househould. In less than half an hour the woman, with a smiling face and apparent deliber- ation, while her heart was beating as never before, and her mind was in a state of deepest alarm, had cooked a fine breakfast for the Apaches, who sat never uttering so much as a grunt and all the time watching her' every movement. ‘When the meal was over and the Indians had received a quantity of tobacco, Mr: Nugent asked if they would help in mov- ing provisions into the store at the front ot the house. Now there was a sort of cold storage cellar at the back of the house. It was built of adobe bricks with a heavy wood door with big iron hinges and a hasp for a padlock on the outside. It was without windows and the walls were three feet thick. It was a storage place for the mer- chandise sold 4n_.the little Nugent store. Bustling about the house with forced en- ergy, but not for g moment forgetting that the two great haif-naked savages who stood in her doorway were there for a settled purpose, she carried numer- ous hams and pails of lard from the store- hous if the greatest expedition were nece Then, suddenly caliing the | Apaches to the storehouse, she praiged their strong arms and backs and askeqd if | they would not carry a big barrel of lard | out of the adobe cellar to the store. The savages were caught off their guard and bending low began to slowly raise the barrel. At that very second Mrs. Nugent | snatched hold of the heavy wood door | and in a flash drew it shut, put the hasp | in place and fastened the padlock on thel : {4 A outside. Then, while all manner ot In- dian oaths reached her ears she brought out the two family Winchester rifles and stood guard over the storehouse. She dispatched her boy with all possi- ble speed on the bare back of a bronco to the Alling ranch, seven miles away, for help from the cow-punchers. Rifle in hand she walked around and around the exterior of the storehouse, watching for the first evidence of an attempt by the imprisoned Apaches to dig out through the adobe walls. Several times she fired her | rifle in order to let them know there was some one about with firearms. In two hours more several cowhoys came to the Nugent house and the Indians were easily taken and were sent back to the reser- vation, where they have since been in prison. The Indians were not in the Apache Kid band, but years ago they Were the murderers of whites, and are very intractable savages. Not the least doubt remains that they meant to kill Mrs. Nugent and her children and rob the store. The women of the Western plains as quick as their Fastern sisters to put into practice modern reform ideas. How Whitelaw Reid, who spent several win- ters In Phoenix, has said In writing that he has been most surprised to observe how much more readily the new woman of the West—even on the edge of the des- ert—becomes interested in new industrial and soclalistic ideas than the woman in the conservative Eastern States. At the old Spanish town of San Miguel, among the cattle ranches in Graham, a Bellamy co-operative cooking club has just com- pleted its fourth vear with remarkable success. The seventeen families on its list include those prominent allke for wealth and brains in the community. Weary of the drudgery of cooking and tired of wrestling with the long line of re- fractory hired girls, the Bellamy Club was organized. A centrally located house was rented and turned over to a matron, with a corps of assistants who were to have full charge of preparing meals for the club members and do nothing else. The executive committee of three does all the purchasing of supplies and meets every Saturday morning to hold a consultation and audit bills. Everything is paid for on Monday morning, assessments being paid a week in advance on Saturdays by the club members. This prevents any debts or bills from being found due at the end of the week, and any surplus or acci- dental deficit is easily carried to the end of the next week. The executive com- mittee is all powerful, and club members are bound to report grievances only to it and not to one another. The club Is run on the family plan, as pos- sible all bickering nding are shut out. Any one who is not satisfied can leave at any tin the club has lasted nuch for the good sense of the members. Fam- lltes have tables by themselves if they wish, and there is a table d’hote for the unmarried people if they wish to take ad- vantage of it. The expense has been found to be remarkably small, the mem- bers declaring that it is less than half what they could run a home for. The women are sole managers; their husbands only foot the bills. A monds and other precious stones, but the cost of manufacture has in each case proved so great that up to the pres- ent time no such diamonds have been placed on the market. This statement, of course, does not apply to the manufacture of artificial precious stones, which seems to be thriving at present, judging from a recent cable dispatch to the New York Herald, which told how artificial diamonds and rubies are being manufactured in Kurope. The point of interest just now is the fact that a method of manufacturing genuine pearls at a trifling cost has just been dis- covered. Manufacture, however, is hardly the. right word, for it is nature he 4 which does almost the whole busin natural pearl, we know, is formed through the intrusion of a foreign body into the shell of a m el. The sea m 1 is popularl, have a monopoly of this bu an error. A certain speci technically known margaritifera, also are 1ch Making Pearls. T varlous times attempts have been made to manufacture genuine dia- supposed to s , but t Marga produces b ttention of a French naturalist, M. E bonne, W and he a Boutan 0 recent this fact. conceived the idea of produ means of these river mussels. step was to prepare a sort of o for the propagation of the mu which he began to aid nature in her of making pearls. In each shell he small hole, and through it he i duced a -tiny bit of mother-of-pearl the body of the fish. His work was now complete, and al had to do was to wait until nature completed the process. That he w time reap a rich harvest seems to be general opinion among naturalists. way, this method of manufacturi is not new, as the Chinese are have practiced it for centuries,