The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 21, 1900, Page 3

‘V me from? Tl looked as !f it wouldn't be ever should come. » months of this*sort of thing godfath. his appear- a. He and ¢ H‘n tington de- f Mrs. Prentice, marriage of the s been around cle had growr he missed her i had the it home for to re when she was keg s so lonesome complat the ntington had a private n to discuss sease to a sud- affection as it suddenly But the dawned upon answered all req ents. Not only beauty and of the sort of Huntingtons wished, but she was 2 years old, big moneymaker’ s she a 1 family whi she had, e . = ngs; not that he was an acknowl- 3 d big moneymaker In those days. The v ” d was scarcely more shan a project Ut t the need of it had been realized 1 . e year before, when the civil war a < 1ght Its need before the public. But » s a prosperous man, who estab- et f well In the hardware busi- ) nes i there were excellent prospects d and he cculd make a home tor the whose mother did not know prov ner a day longer. The that Clara went to live ome while she was form memo that e grew up. ide for v been learned. Clara onger a Prentice, but a Mrs. Prentice was to be ‘dward, the brother, who had ooflet DRI NN ) SEN '.cck tC Help Them O-’: of Trolble. cunt of an incident which brought us er and gave me a passing glance felecierd & to v - ne me one day, as many fir ys did, with his discharge, re- that I write something on it 4 a ‘character.’ ould appreclate it, colonel, he 1, ‘and it might be of use to me some I took the discharge and wrote on er t ack of it: " is to certify that James Wilkins r, sober and trustworthy.’ 2 colonel,’ he said, folding er carefully and putting it away in ‘ el & pocket. ‘I'm much obliged to you. is will undoubtedly be of great use to some day. You see, colonel, my name ain’'t Wilkins at all, but Chambers. I had 2 little trouble in my tewn with the Sher- iff. Fact is, I shot a man, an’ 1f I ever meet that Sheriff this will prove I'm not Chambers, but Wilkins. I'm much obliged to you, colonel.” “Some of the letters the boys write me are gems. They seem to think I am able of the con- a peculiar the cowboys of the e of them, 2 tall, hollow-eye# fellow, by name, was &s good & soldier es I bave ever scen. I remember him on / nce Groe \ Huntington THE SUNDAY CALL. — '\ e stolen her rattie a. was to be “cousin.” papa, a new mamma, changed Everybody promise th fed ner pepperraints, There was a new and it was all was warned and made to at not a word of Clara's birth should be breathed in her presence. Ser- vants kept still, children kep: still, no- body told. The little girl saw her “‘auntie” from time to time and liked her véry but, of course, “mamma’” was— The Huntington home was hers. zrowing up as a part of it. provided for the mother by g her a bome In Sacramento. There she lived and looked forward to the visits of the little girl. and felt lonely in her ab- Her foster-father had given her , it was said, that he would and she clung that existed seeing her often, even barrier lay between moth- much, mamma She wa sence. mfort the though at raflroad succeeded, people’s surprise, and much to man the raii- road man's inte sts took him eastward for trips, which grew more and more f; juent. Everything seemed tending even then in the direction of his finally from California. Clara was fourteen final break came for her. she had led ‘the ofdinary little-girl ex- Istence without much event to break its happy monotony. Now and then she fafled to have a French lesson respectably learned and her gov made violent Temarks removing ars'old when the Up to that time ™ and the young lady made the same kind back again. She never was known for mildness. She was as im- perious a litt] man as she Is now a big one. Tall always for her age, she had a way of pulling herself up to what ppeared a good deal taller and looking at until she usually succeeded in making you feel the size of a very small you shrimp—very small indeed. It is supposed that in the end she usually got the better of the governess, When she was fourteen years old some- thing strange happened. A man called at the house one day and the whole famiiy were present during his cail. He let the cat out of the bag. It was all an acei. dent—the accident that e body might have known would happen sooner or later ~it was only’a question of time. Witn to get them out of all sorts of serapes. A few weeks ago I received a letter, pain- fully written and woefully Dear cole I am In jall for bigamy. My mothe put me {n. Colonel, will you quick as you can, as I want to dig my potatoes?” “From Oklahoma this commummuon reached me recently ‘“Colonel: I am In deep trouble, and also jail, for shooting of & man. I am fnnocent, upon my word, and am unable to get bail. Wil you get me out?" “When 1 was in Oklahoma City, at the Rough Rider reunicn, one of my men came to me, “‘I'm mights glad to see vou, colonel,” he sald, ‘and I come in to tell you the whole story, and ask you to not belleve the tales they pass arcund.’ “I told him I hadn't heard anything about him, and he =ald: * ‘Well, you see, I shot a man the other day, but, on my honor, colonel, he shot first. They don’t think I'm guflty, though, because I'm out on $500 bond."” —————— The Electrical Engineer of London 1s authority for the statement that the Ger- man Government has just paid $500,000 to a Chicago concern ‘“for the patents and rights to manufacture and use the auto- matic telephone switch” owned by the company. The deal was made on the basis of the results obtained with a 200- instrument exchange test by the Govern- ment for six months, which were entirely satisfactory. \ eryman’s NOW Prmcas:s *‘ feldt-weildenbet blotted. which | 3 at ease with all her relatives; she could not adjust her pojnt of view to the new knowledge. She would hurry to Mrs. Prentice sometimes with bursts of affec- tion, and then just as quick a chill would rise—something very like resentment at the thought, perhaps, that this woman had let her own child be taken from her to another’s home. There was no content for any one. Clara ‘was growing more morbid every day and was dragging both families along with her as far as one l4-year-old girl could do. Bomething had to be done, the Hunting- tons realized at last, and it was decided to take the girl Bast, put her at school and let her have an entire change of en- vironment. Thus the final break was made. She was kept in the East untll her debut into so- clety. ~ After that she made pecasional visits to this coast, but they were fail- ures. She had grown away from her own 50 many people knowing who Clara’s par. e really were it must come to pass that the word would slip and the only wonder was it had not been long before. Clara was very quiet during the re- mainder of the call and showed no feei- ing. But after the guest had gone, runs the story. she calmly and determinedls ordered Collis to a privatefinterview. He knew what was coming. He said he had an engagement downtown at 5, but she sald there would be twenty minutes left to meet it after she was through with him. He thought' he heard Mrs, Huntington calling him from upstairs and he must be excused just a minute, but Clara sald that she—'Mrs. Huntington’ was what she sald and not “mamma’— was on the veranda and what he had heard was a door squeaking. He must give the man an order—“back In a min- ute, my dear,” but she sald the order could wait. By this time she had got him to the stu door and he found himself entering. Then it all came out. She questioned, she cross-questioned, she was very firm and she would have the truth. Hunting- ton saw that It was useless: to try to hide it any longer. He told her the whole story and it took so long that he forgot about his engagement at 5. When the interview was over and there was noth- ing left unasked, nothing untold, she said not a word, but went to her room. L \ IN NEw YORK AND ABROAD MISS CLARA HUNTINGTON WAS A FULL FLEDGE > SOCIETY WOMAN." GROCER Y The days that followed were Clara sank into a state of depression that more lcy. | nothing could lift her out of. She was ill Huntington was a full-fledged soclety woman. She lived through season after season of gayety, and at last came the winter in Paris that settled her as a Princess for all time to come. The story of Prince Hatzfeldt's wooing and swinning traveled over two continents and brought a curious multitude to peer at the outside of Brompton Chapel while the ceremeny was being performed within. The Prince, whose $3,000,000 of debts wers the most splendid debts ever contmgacted and had ruined more than one family besides os- tracizing him from Berlin and Vienna, came to terms at last with Collis Hunt- ington and accepted his daughter with the following arrangement: Clara, Princess of Hatzfeldt-Wilden- berg, was allowed $3,000,000, which was deposited in three American banks, with annual interest payable at any time the year on her check. Her husl should have no power to touch It. ithin nd If she "IT IS SUPPOSED THAT IN THE END SHE USUALLY GOT THE BETTER GOVERNESS.” By the time the marriage took place the devil-may-care young Prince had con- trived to get his debts scaled down $0 a half million dollars and his k was rosy. There was one skelston at the wedding breakfast which rattled a bone or two and then lay still. An En lawyer hinted at the Inw ity of the marriage. “In case she was not legally adopted ¢ ¢ ¢ an old English law,” bhe mured. But other lawyers buzzed otherwise and the skeleton did not dare stir again. Now that the millionaire has died peo- ple ure talking again about legality and adoption papers. e m age Is all right, they say, but how about Clara's claim to a bigger share of the great es- tate? If she be d an adopted daugh- ter, why has she only $1.000,000 when the nephew, only a nephew, has $15,000,0007 It is all very puzziing. One thing, how- QF . THE. { gloomy. family and the meetings grew more and should have a child that should reach 21 ever, is sure; it takes a Huntington to she would then be at liberty to encroach maks a millionalrs Princess out of a In New York and abroad Miss Clara in some degree upon the principal. grocer’s lttle girl