The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 23, 1900, Page 1

1dea « the pur e aracteristics of and seeing the stand figured out the eir Adam and trolled behind a party ge and caught wore bathing suits and two of them had bathing the time of The tall girl = least fortunate in probab at galned, as s liberal supply of seif-esteem wiedge that it is absolutely swell” bath- gure's lmita- qa her long, thin, aris- and now and then ende 14 discourse with her in & sharp voice that indl- character, whatever else. exclaim e, what o you suppose Ethel sald e yesterday morning when we were g our dlp? Bhe asked i I would jerdon e suggestion merely for my own 20 ARE BATHING S ' MEANT T© Now it was mamma's turn to vindicate her looks “Annice, I am not fat? Don't let me hear that vulgar word again. I may be a little but I'm sure it becomes my years and gives me dignity. You ought to be able to think of some nicer word to apply to my weight, with all the chance you've had for schooling. What was that word 1 heard Mrs. 8. use yesterday in regard to stout, me? 1 meant to write it down. It was elbow, or enbow-something.” “Embonpoint, of - course. Al right, mamma; if It makes you feel any better, you're embonpoint,” chimed in the short- est girl of the party, who must have been memma's own daughter, for her figure was like the earth once was, according to the Bcripture, “without form and void.™ EAR IN This girl seemed endowed with as much £o00d nature as avoirdupois, for she was neither withered nor dangerous when mamma sald: “Now, for heaven's sake, Fannle, if we meet Reginald on our way home, do try and say something swell instead of stand- ing there in that dumpy way of yours, looking as blank as a Loulsiana lottery ticket and pulling away at your wet bath- ing sult, as you did yesterday.” They walked on toward the beach, where doz- ens of others had aiready assembled for ¢y THE WATER ¢ bathing or promenading purposes, sccord- ing to their individual endowments. I strolled back to the business street, thinking of the unaccountable points of view people seem capable of possessing, when I was confronted by a somewhat startling {llustration of this fact. It was a dripping bathing suit ap- proaching on a bleycle. The sult—or trunks—appeared to contain an Intelligent young man of many errands and ac- quainted with haste. He dismounted ana dripped into the little postoffice near by, A moment later he dripped out again, mounted his modern steed and sped away toward the cottages, apparently unaware 3 ///7,;47(\% \/" ?ORDON v —— CL==4 that he was attracting any sttention. I decided that this particular individual dressed and undressed at his cottage for his daily plunge in order to save the ex- pense of renting a room in the bathhouse on the beach. He probably figured that “money saved was money earned.” I be- lleved, too, that time was another Impor- tant factor taken into account by his saving propensities. Hence the bicycle. Three dry bathing “sults seated on a veranda, apparently before the morning dip, Interested me and T lingered as long as I could without attracting attention. Two stunning girls chatted in two of the suits, not at all daunted by the fact that a stout gentleman reposed in the other. They were saying small nothings very sweetly. One of the young ladies com- plained of a lame Yoot. whereupon the other solicitously inquired: “Why, perhaps it's—excuse me, dear for mentioning it, I know it's a delicate mat- ter to speak of, even to you, and any one would be sensitive about It, but had It not eceurred to you that it may be gout™ Oh. woman! Lovely woman! I could not catch the rep!y because of the clatter of the chalrs as they rose. The thres, came down the walk together and strolled toward the beach “Isn’t it a perfeot shame,” gushed the blonde belle, “that the residents here are making such cattish remarks because we walk about In our bathing-suits? It's a reflection upon themselves and shows their poor taste. ‘To the pure all things are pure.’” We must simply ignore them.” The solicitous girl added: “Why, they even threaten to arrest u “That<would be Jolly hard wouldn't 1t?” sald the masculine center of attraction. "I hope they den't get me. I'm having the time of my life this sum. mer: What do we care?™ That is just it. The bathers do not care, iines, nor will they care untfl they encounter something more substantlal than threats. Arrests themselves are so much more im- pressive than Imitations and would be de- cldeaty effective In jogging memories and preventing future indignit! Several ar- rests among the bat at Santa Monics last summer secured a proper conditfom of affairs throughout season and started the citizens of Long Beach discussing such a need at home. Yes, Long Beach, you have a grievanea, I don’t exactly know how much time had to elapse before this dawned upom you. There have been murmurings from time to time, but not until Santa Monica took a stand did you assert yourseif. Indig- nant protests have been fhe extent of your uprisings, while bathing suits con~ tinued to abound In the streets and noth- ing prevented them from walking' inte Los Angeles when the wearers feit so in- clined. 8o the present bathing season is coming to a close without any definite ac- tion. Never mind, Long Beach—perhape by another year you will get around to do something. We will await results with much interest, and in the meantime we wish you well. Nothing succeeds like suo- cess. the present .Mmmtotmncfiqwmw*smcw Sousa Tells of a Fortune in Music That He Sold for Seventy Dollars. * *The first plece I ever had published I pald for,’ said Mr. Sousa. ‘It cost me $25, and that $25 was a great deal of money to me, an awful Jot. Of course, the piece did not sqil. Some friends of mine with a great big gob of kindness in their hearts bought copies. I talnk about $4 worth. But the rest of the world, though it was hunting new tunes, pald no attention to the publication of my plece. It had not found me yet. and the fact that I was dis- appeinted In the sale of my music did not disatrange its machinery in the least. The next time T thought I would try Phila- delphia. I went up to the publishing house of Lee & Walker and showed my two compositions to the editor, with whom [ struck up a friendship that has lasted ever since that day, and that was in 1572, when I was 18 years old. He played over my pleces and they sounded beautiful. He was a good planist, and I never have been. He made some kind of a cabalistic mark on them; I suppose it meant O K., and sent me down to see Mr. Lee. "Mr. Lee Itked the pleces, but I was a young man, an absolutely unknown young man, and all that—you know what they all say. Still the pleces were very nice, and they ‘would publish them, giving me—I held my breath—one hundred coples of each pleoe My rallroad fare from Washington to Philadelphia and return and my hotel bill amounted to about § d for that I was to get one hundred coplies of each of my two pleces, which would cost the publisher perhaps §1. I thought that was pretty hard. But I accepted. I supposed that the music would be printed off right away. It wasn't. After about a dozen letters from me during a period of six or seven months I finally got word that they might get the plece out the following quarter.’ * “Now that you have made a hit, dom't “those pleces sell™ ™ “Mr. Sousa shook head and pressed his lips together. “T d does not turn back and look for what it has once passed by. It wants something new.” “‘After a while I sold my compositions for what [ could get, anvthing from I8 up to $25. -The *“Washington Post March™ and the “High School Cadet Mareh™ I sold for $35 each. They made an indee pendent fortune for the publisher, Cole= man of Philadelphia.’ **‘And all you got out of them was 0" “Mr. Sousa nodded. He did not seem to feel bad about it. He seemed to think it was a kind of a joke on him. of course, but a good joke for all that. Probably he believes fhat there are more marches just as good where they came from. Probably he has got over grieving about it In the last ten years.'—Alnsice’s