The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, March 11, 1900, Page 9

THE SUNDAY CALL. ¢ Loving V¥ THE V.59 M CVLLOS K PRESENTED TO HEY have some wonderful things out there on the revenue cuttcr Me; Culloch, which is now lying in thé bay. Some things they have taken from the conquered Spaniard and s that made things_bsm at 54N FRANCI DANCQING Contl d from Page One. not at her. 1 got angry at her, too, for she brought eggs fiiled with cologne to the schoo night and broke them upon gentlemen ads. That wa an old Mexican custom, and 1 was trying to teach them proper ways, but she never wanted ™m ‘Your rench dai are stiff said. ‘They are meant for old men and women whose legs are full of rheu: 1 want to be alive.” , man from a ranch und dead one night— people said that 1 if she wanted to. aited to ses had promised him—1I would show him which dan ave by put- a red ros and the whole ong he waited and she never the white rose, which was the gnal to his rival. She married the rival Olga Nethersole, &ho Was Arrested for Playing Japho, THE WV ST Manlla, ‘cross the way, on the never-to- be-forgotten first of May, 1898. There are charts, flags, cannons and cats, all of which were mixed up to a great extent in our late trcuble with Spain. There is very little necd to tell any one that the McCulloch was Dewey's dispatch + boat at the time the Spanish fleet was set a-sinking at Manila; that she stuck her little, white, inquisitive nose right into everybody's business and didn’'t give a rap whether school kept or hot: that she simply turned her guns loose and threw a S.9. M=CVLLOCH DD §CO’S FIRST MASTER- Hw next week after that shooting. “The Pacheco seporitas were graceful and more easily taught than most. And there < a Senorita Coria who was a great beauty. She was known as far as Santa Barbara for her beauty 1 thiy the reason she was o fameus was partly becausé her father was rich. scatter silver at every wedding he to, whether it for the little Indians to scramble for. lle s an old man and he had to have his as old men always do. He camc to visit my clags one night and saw some boys peeking under the edge of the tent, and he threw silver—handfuls of it—right in the midst of“ore of my kat figuses. But he didn’t know any better.” The pipe fire went out for lack of pufiug and old Charlie Wilson did not light It again, for there were no more pictures 1o went his house or nct. way call up. “What did you do for music?’ oceurred to me. “I hired McMullen. He had played the but i But bass drum in a traveling circus, lost his job because he drank whisky, he was a good musician all the same. He used to play the fiddle and the guitar, and after I made my piano he playel that. It was like the piano I have here, only that it-was larger—seventy-five strings.” He moved toward what T had bel! i to be a part of the board wall. Rever- ently he removed one board. and benesth it appeared ancther, standing upright, which was the basis of the piano. Upon it were strung fifteen wires, tened at the upper end to wooden regs and at the lower to n making an in- strument somewhat after the nature of a zither. He struck the wires with two lt- tle wooden mallets. “It's out of tune,” he mutte forget- ting us. ‘nts_kommt heraus A He turned a peg and struck again. “Bad,” he said. He tr zain and was satisfied at last. Then he took a form 1 position with the left foot out at an exact forty-five degre dife suddenly died oy few pounds of lead at the Spaniards, which pounds were, by the way, part of the first charge fired at the Spaniards by the Americans in this great battle. The man who fired the shot is aboard, too, and he doesn’t look like a man who would start an argument either, but more like a man who could end one on short notice, his arguments being more in the line of action than in words. His name is Lieutenant M. Atlee and he fired the first shot from a six-pounder on the starboard side. There is nothing very surprising It was in the midst of his playing that he cried out, “This is the latest mazourka,” and dropped his show us the step for the tur of the dan sat down and I recallad (I » words of Bordi's black- eyed wifs “ill old Charlie Wilson up with wine, had id, “and let him smoke his @ried leaves if he's sober and he's all right ne he prays and until “somebody enough to light his pipe But if he can't get W sings hymns and cries gives it to him. And if th ture in my ad been a temperance lec- throat when . went to the cabin, ¥ would have choked me and lodgad there at the sorry sight of him. “In his cups most of the time,” said one repor and his shoulders braced to the dig s a5 Tore (e weeka at . thil the performance. The sound that came ga1q mnothcr. But he s old and hungry from the Jangling old wires might have been the music of Chinatown. As he play- ed, he hummed a nasal accompaniment and his head swayed from side to side in time with the music. P TSV TSSOSO W. D. Howells® Vi kife, D Howells is the subject of an in- tercsting study by Theodore Dreiser in Ainslee’s for March. The writer relate: a serious conversation held with the nov- elist. “How the talk came around to specula- tlon concerning life and death is almost beyond recall. Andrew Lang had newly t reissued his translations of Greek od 1 They deal with the passions and pains of individuals dead thousands of years ago, & and 1 expressed wonder at the long, Inex- plicable procession of “Mr. Howells folded hls hands calmly ¢ and sat quite silent. Then he said, ‘Yes, r we never know wherefrom or whereto. It seems as if all these ruddy crowds of people are little more than plants waken- ed by the sun and rain.’ *“ ‘Do you find,’ ‘I said, ‘that it is pain- ful to feel life wearing on, slipping away t and change overtaking us all?’ o “ It is, truly. Life is fine. The morning air is good. When I stroll out of a sunny e W. D. and alone. E«n and endure. s overtakes u because from it minent death, The great city surprises me. much a world. bleak a great many months of the year. Nothing is grown here. When you come to he followed us. ' “Allow best path, ladies,” er of manner: COMSTOCK. ~0 When we left me to show you th said the one-time m: SAR AH R o o > S gws on ea‘hh and Sugcess. seems too much that it should not that “From the flight of time ahd ever Im- the conversation drifted to he crush of modern life and the struggie or existence. “ ‘It is my belief,’ he said, ‘that the truggle really does grow more bitter. It seems so to-do over v little—millions rowding Into to obtain subsistence in a eglon where subsistence is least.” “ ‘Where would you have them go? “ “There are more fertiie parts of the This little island is so cold and hink, there is no reason why the people f the world should not live In the tropics. The means of subsistence there are great- r. Yet here they are scheming and plan- about the six-pounder. It is just like any other Hotchkiss six-poundef and has a long blue barrel and some mechanism at one end that would puzzie a landlubber. There are two interesting revolver can- nons aboard, made in France, mind you, but engraved and marked with Spanish lettering. They came from a Spanish ship and were used in a vain attempt on May 1 two years ago by the Spaniards. But the Spanish lettering on the guns was in- tricate and the gunners got mixed in their figures; as a consequence these two guns now occupy first-class positions in TUncle Sam’s navy, and the men aboard the McCulloch do not need an Interpreter to understand them. Down in the captain's cabln—apart- ments would be better, for the rooms ri- val those of a swell hotel—there are many things of interest. The pl: is all ‘shelved with fine crockery and silver. Leading from the main room there are two cozy little bedrooms. The glass work glistens and everything is as spick and span as In a new flat. When this littie vessel showed the stuff she was made of and the kind of men she carried aboard the children of Hugh McCuiloch, after whom the cutter was named, got their heads together and in- cidentally their purses and presented the ship with a loving cup, a great big silver affair with three handles and a capacity sufficient to inspire brotherly enthusiasm for an entire ocean of sea dogs. The pedestal is made of wood taken from a gun pedestal on the island of Corregidor, from which the first hot was fired. There is another cup somewhat smailer than this one, but equally historical. Tt ed by the United States Life to Captain W. C. Coulson, ng officer of the McCulloch, was preser Saving Se the comman rvice and lis vedestal is made of wood taken from the fife rail of the Spanish batt ship Don Antonio de Ulloa before she into old ir was turned Once upon a time before Aguinaldo declared himself kingpin and developed sprinting ability, he and a number of his trainers and pacemakers enjoved the hos- pitality of the McCulloch for several days. With the little man came many generals and other things. They filled ~—— 3 BY ATVINALDO ning. and sometimes dying or starvation.’ ‘“‘You have had no direct experience of this great misery." “‘No; but I have observed it. All my experiences have been literary, yet In this field I have seen enough.’ *“‘Is it so hard to rise in the literary world? ‘“*‘About as difficult as in any other fleld. There seems to be almost invariably a perfod of neglect and suffering. Every beginnér feels or really finds that the doors are more or less closed against him.’ s Your view is rather dispiriting.’ Life seems at times a hopeless tangle. CABIN ONCE OCTQUPIED oard Dewey's Dispateh Boat, the [T\eCulloeh the cabin to overflowing and several of the lesser dignitaries slept upon the decks. A few tons of ballast, it is said, were thrown overboard to balance the additional welght of gold braid and the fleld day medals worn by this band cf commanders. With due courtesy Caprain Couison assigned Aguinaldo a bedroom all to himself, and here he slept several {ghts under the hospitable deck of U'n- cle Sam, dreaming, thinking and schem- ing on the time when he would give that same hospitable Uncle Sam a wee bit of trouble. .« e rce aboard the McCulloch— not because there is not enough to eat nor because they do not like the appoint- ments of the vessel, but simply because sea rats are wise and know that self- preservuticn is necessary to the dignity as well as the life of an intelligent, Rats are rope- eating rodent. The direct cause of the scarcity is Tom—whe more nor less than a big white a cat—the pet ‘of everybod captain to the stokers. On warm days basks in the sun on deck, and when It is cold he nestles next a steam pipe down below. This cat has a history and it would bs just about as Interesting as history could be if all of it were known. Where he hailed from originally no one knows, but after the battle of Santlago an American sailor took him off one of the disabled Spanish ships and carried him aboard the Texas. From the Téxas he was sent around the Horn In a colller and left ac Mare Island. Tom then swore allegiance and took out papers as n able-bodled cat of the first class in the navy and was transported to the MeCul- loch. B —— "“In the twinkling of an eye” is a phrase for brevity, but M. Garten, in the “Arch- ives de Pfluger,” has found the average time of a wink is about 0.40 of a sec The eyelid descends in about &80 of a se ond, stays down about 0.13 of a second to 0.17 and rises again in about 0.17 of a Jec- ond. Winking varies much in differey persons and rarely occurs when the a tention is concentrated, but this omiss is followed by a series of winks to make up. either by resting the eye or by clea. ing it. You can only face the conditions bra: and take what befalls. “Other things were talked of, but this struck me at the time as peculiarly char- aeteristic of the- man. His sympathies are right, but he is not primarily a deep reasoner. He would not, for instance, choose to follow up his speculations con- cerning life and attempt to offer som> modest theory of improvement. He watches the changeful scene. rejoi or laments over the various and separate In- stances. but goes no further. He has reached the conclusion that lfe Is Aiffi- cult and inexplicable without real tracing the various theories by which ic is synthetically proved. He is inclined to let the great analysis of ihings o by ths board, sure that it is a mystery and not caring much for the proof.” BT T T T T T T T T T A AT o A A AT A A A A A T s . @ Some of the Lings Tn ““Sapho™ Which Have Qalsed so Much Talk. HE curtain rises in “S8apho” with a s ball, given by Dechelette, in full swing—a ball of the demi-monde so far as the ladies are concerned. cl Uncle Cesard—I would like to lay my heart at the feet of each one of them. Dechelette—You would do better to lay your purse. Uncle C.—But my purse is empty. Jean (smiling)—So is your heart, Uncle Cesard. Uncle C.—No, no, my boy! It's an omni- bus, .overcrowded, but always room for one more. (As girl pirouettes.) Now she's pretty! I Jean—Who is that girl with the red - hair? Uncle C.—That is the famous dancer Toto. Dech.—No, it's Margol Roque.. a Uncle C.—Really! I've read of her In our papers at home. Ehe sings the worst a Gi and her worst songs. _ ongs in all Paris. What wouldn't I give if she'd only sing! Caondal—She will later, won't she, De- helette? Dech.—Yes; she always sings for me— D Uncle C.—Er—tell me—are—or—all these ladies ladies?—or—er—ladies? Deeh. (smiling)—They have all been at ome time or other my confidential friends. You mustn’t ask me w betray the trust! Jean—Who is this? Caondal—It is Toto, the Spanish dancer 'rom the Folies Bergeres. Her mother was a streef sweeper In Madrid. Uncle C.—Extraordinary! And who was er father? Dech.—I believe that has never been eflnltel) decided. quu M thcu‘ht Toto clalmed it was Dech.—Yes, but her mother gave-the preference to a 'bus conductor, and the Duke proved an alibi! PR e el e R Jean—Fanny, Fanny! Fanny—And you, don’t you love me? Jean—With your halr against my cheek, your arms about my neck, your lips so close—you ask me? (Kisses her.) Fanny (murmurs in his arms)—You love me— Jean—When T am with you I can't re- sist you, and yet—TI'll be honest with you, Fanny (pushes her away), I'm not sure it's love. s s s e s s s s s . In the third act Jean discovers that Fanny has had @ child by a former lover— a child that she has brought to their home under the pretense of adoption. He upbraids and threatens to leave her. She kneels beside him. I Knew you. Fanny—It fsn't as if I'd fallen In love with Flamant to-day. I don’t love him and you ought to know that. When you're calm you will know it. And then we can go on just the same as before. Look up! Look at me! Reason about it. This is -the only secret that I kept from you, and it belongs to the old days—the old days that you forgave and promised to forget. Ah, if T could but have had a child of yours, I would not have asked for, this reminder of the past—and then— the' boy came into the world long before The sting of this, like all the rest, was burnt te ashes m our little fireplace in Parls. Jean—No, this you decelved me about. Fanny—Den’t think of that: think only of the happy days we have speat together, for we have been happy, haven't wi up we've been happy. Jean—TYes.