The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 1, 1901, Page 15

THE SUNDAY CALL. 15 Y \ Y THE SCOTCH CELEBRATE ST. ANDREW'’S DAY AND SOME | OF THE CURIOUS CUSTOMS THEY OBSERVE. & = BET. ANDREW'S DAY SQNG. Andrew’s Soclety IY v § rew is to Scotland jwhat NS = s to Ireland. He is - ron saint. T Andrew’s r, is vorld ove: the pipers tish dances, occasfonal olds to the ancient wherever th i veneration for p s he leans back and listens ns or the tales of ago it used to be the custom they al drew’'s So Standrew’s 8" followed TO ST. ANDREW. Gude Andrew! patren maint o' Scots, ave In thy care hae wandered far frae hame e sea, ame, 'm under the Lucky for the S was not bl iscended ind guide T honors other on the ch wart piper marching piper pl to feel Andrew’s S y NE making & note of the private 4 galleries in America, regardless of where they may be, either in New x or San Francisco, will be forced to repeat the much worn and tiresome remark that home peopie are not appreciated, for the larlg of local representatives in private galleries is amazing. N orkers have among e emthosiol e Wi 4e with which the European prod are brought forth. San Franciscans show the pictures of clever New Yorkers, and place thelr vork #ide by side with that of forelgn masters but it will bs found that in either of th: two places mentioned, and they represent all the United States, the work of a local ertist is ly put in & corner and not noticed at all Now, considering that Americans should have our nation’s cheracteristic trait of independence, why not be original, why not branch out end love art for art's sake? If an unknown man in an obscure corner of the earth produces a master- plece, which is sometimes the case, why 1s not that work of equal value, and more, £3r he is our countryman, than a foreign ainting of only the same merit? True it s, that a catalogue with here and there the name of Van Dyke, of Rembrandt, of elasquez or of Rubens is a very satisfy- of paper to show one's friends, as sentation of the art in one’s col- ." but one must also consider that bse great masters wers once students 2nd that thelr earlier work, snatch draw- sketches and indifferent bits, i upon which they graduaily 4 to greatness, are not & whit bet- gome of our students can do. and decline to.show, ex- some of their earlier ef- se, upon the death of the gathered up from the dust- and studio corners, put on shrewd and world-wise gold for fabulous prices; of them coming to our country. ving a signature is ail right; only be stent and » “Here is 8o-and-so's ; but when one says, as I have remarked, that it i3 irreverent to the meritorious work of an un- / n tist, in comparison to an in- different sketch from an old master, which was only put on the market and - when the man who painted it 33 desd and could not help himself, is ponsénse. No artist ever turned out mas- terpieces from his infancy. No human be- ing is always at concert pitch, and, more- genius is not confined to any age, i ,‘ modern painters can sometimes profit - gone before. he experiences of those who have it i¢ & pleasure to note this fact, taken from the history of American art. Young 14 at al as our co supposed - New York men true patrons America wa tings, which were sent from all portior that one au stated F York during forty vears tim d er 1,000,000 pictures nglish dealers k desirable car 1 the sales, ( rare paintings in th and horn, =0 some that now tional Gallery, were bougt here to pur- appeared the h 18 in s wa This also accounts for the ¢ 1 rar old masterplece that now and crops up in this country. For although many of those large consignment were rub- bish, thers were some few that if put on sale to-day would net isands of dol- lars, These cloudy, mist: bad for stucdio work, for but it is haying time £ dny eff it is alm currence to e art favor the marshes on ra'n green beauty is enhanced two £oft atmosphere. G. Cadenasso is particularly fond of this weather, and he can often be seen sally- days are decidedly the light is poor, »r sketching gray t an everyday o7 , like duck hunters for their ld with a days ing forth armed with imm sketching umbr and painting paraphernalia io study his beloved ecucalyptus. l'nlh«r; this study from nature i the secret of the rapid strides this artist has made. C. P. Nellson, the water colorist, is udies of San Francisco as viewed from an elevation. He has chosen ‘elegraph Hill, and he says that the ef- fect is enchanting and somewhat Vene- tian-like from that point of view. Maren Frolich has turned from the Bhasta country, and has brought with her a number of good sketches. '] opular ballet girls, from Miss F hrush, are chic in posc, beautiful in co'- oring and good sellers, too; but a ‘wood interior, Nill of poetry and feeling, makes one wish she would do more in landscape. One of the best canvases scen this season is a large figure of a Japanese singing girl, by Ada Romer 8hawhan. This plet- ure is attractive in the particularly easy pose and alry grace 2f the subject, who stands with chin tiited, smiling deliclous - ly, apparently pleared with the melody which she draws from the mandolin he'd high in her arms. The picture Is excep- tionally good in drawing and pleasing in color. A canvas that is attracting the atten- tion of the local artists and critics is a picture In W. Morris’ gallery on Sutter street, a marine by Manuel Valencia. The subject is taken from Monterey. In the foreground, to the left, rises high in all its iridescent beauty a sandbank, upon which cling one or two scraggly trees, making some cenmas sw LREMMER CELPE TAD y opolitan commontwealth. One must i to belong to the St. Andrew's ocd. A wise provisicn of . however. makes eligible membership the immediate descendan £ Seotehmr It tickles the national van- f the St. Andrewites to find 8o many t ert toe stral n- i thev'a been the lared he lon There were the Du . the Mec- wer oked rames on his book energetic members ey ootie i d nd 8o to of an ept mar and in Th 1 t ot men of t felt swarming ws n thelr ain 1ang they would s whether upen ve assurance that camp or remarked fore kissing a of gliv- sojourning ndividuality 1 bond wa 1 crack before it vy brought to the notice of wose wind tos The ed branches turn toward water, unmarked by boat or landward, the swell rising in parency hower of - slo ing 8 verhead. It a masterly and as one prominent artist full of snap. The tech- nigue is excellent, the movement of the water wonderful, ‘and altogether it iz a picture likely to bring this comparatively inknown artist { fmmediate promi- misty spray. A y here are a couple of canvases in the ame gallery by H. W. Hansen, the cele- srated portrayer of frontler life. “The are water colors, but are strong enough for oil. One noticeably fine is a canvas vith a single figure well to the fore ground, that of a mounted cowboy just in the act of hurling the lasso # splendid. The horse comes tearing down the slope, almost out of the canvas, nos- trils dilafed, every muscle quivering with excitement and exercise; the foreshorten- g here is noticeably good. The rider has hiz sombrero pulled well over his face, which fs ruddy from sunburn but set with xpression of determination. The dyst rises In a cloud, the atmosphere is that a hot day on the Arizona desert. Fan- en's work in frontier life has made him big name in New York. There is always a new picture of merit in the gallery of 8. Gump, on Geary street. A large canvas from H. Timmér- man has just been received from Ant- werp. It is entitled “A Drawn Discu: sfon.” Two old men, with characteristic student faces, sit on either side of a table littered with empty bottles and over- rned The spectacles of one have fallen over his nose, the other smiles in his snatch of eleep. He evidently was the victor in the war of opinions. A top Ses light. from an old Flemish window, falls across the faces and streaks the rug. Timmerman s certainly a colorist for gorgeous color run in harmonious riot, 1f that expression 1s permissible. It I# an especially finished plece of work in every detail. The pattern and texture of the tapesiry, of the rug, the carving of t chairs, is all brought out minutely. Mr. Gump has also a recent canvas from George Laugee, who was this year made a member of the Legion of Honor and knighted by the French Government. This is a brother-in-law and an occupant of the same studio_ of the well-known landscape painter, Jullan Dupre. A plc- ture, a wood interlor, by A. Jacomin, is one of the best things shown. There is a freshness of nature, the poetry and mys- tery of the virgin wood. Perhaps the high- est compliment that can be pald to this work is that all the local artists take oc- casfonal pllfr!muge» to this gallery to see and study It i8 exceptionally fine in color, for it has that . Mch, wonderful green of nature which is so difficult to ob- ain. The finlshing touches have been put on the pictures of the Bohemian Club exhi- bition and most of the artists are happy, for as each man was warned that &o weeding out this time would be unusually eevere, only that which was almost sure to pass muster was submitted, conse- quently almost everything sent was mc- cepted and the committee say that the exhibition is unusually fine, HARRIET QUIMBY. The action | and breaking into a | | have An hietorie trait of character was mani- fested when discussing what name should be given to the socle! Saint Andrew was not by any means “cock o' the walk.” ber browed Presbyterians scowled at the mentfon of him. lationship to Scotland vailed but Mttie conferred upon A His traditlonary re- s its patron saint mundane power ts” by the pay t It was an quaint, considering time and place—of that spirit and humor which found vent In the “Gude and Godlie Ballates” of the sixteenth century: The Palp, that pagan full of pryde, He hes ve blindit lang hatr the blind the blind dole gyde Na wonder thay ga wrang. ke prince and king he ied the riag ¢ all infcuite. trix, tryme go trix, r the grene wod-thes. The connection of 8t otland is largely mythical. Tradition says that his remalns were brought from Achala to Scotiand by Regulus and de posited in the cathedial which has since borne his name. Another tradition says that the .cross of St. Andrew (the crux decissata) ap- peared In the Leavens 10 the King of tha Scots on the eve of battle, when he was praying for victory. The King of the Picts says it also appeared to him on th: ne occasion. The next day they joineqd v their fo and fought with such confi- dence and might that Athelstone was forced to retreal. Ther the Kings of the Ecots and the Picts waiked barefooted to the kirk of St. Andrew. Here they vowe:l to adopt the cross of St. Andrew as the = national emblem. “W's a far to San Francisco; but here’s tae ye.” This congratulatory tele. gram was received at the banquet from » mother country. Poems wr’ ten for the occaslon wero read and a St. Andrew’s day ®ong sung to the accompaniment of the bagpipes. The 8t. Andrew’s So~lety is like a little patch of Scotland In our midst. The icots are among the greatest wanderers on carth, and yet they are the most clan- nish A library of Scolch hiterature and pict- ures of brawny members of the race who risen to distinction in the world's work give a Highland atmosphere to Scottigh Hall. en tho old janitor speake | with o “bonnte broguc | | Robert Louls Stevenson says: “The hap- plest lct on earth Is (o be born a Scotch- man. You may pay for it in many ways, as for all other advantuges on earth. You have to learn the paraphrases and tne shorter catechlsm: you generally take to drink; your youth, so far as I can find out, is a time of loudcr war against so- clety, of more outcry and tears and tur- moll than iIf you had been born, for in- stance, in England. Sul somehow life is warmer and closer, the nearth burns more redly and the lights of home shine softer on the rainy street.” Scotch tralts are the same the world over. An anclent chronicler of the St. Andrew’s Soclety shows his knowledge of the poor thus: ““Our poor, like those of other folks, | trom themselves naturally ‘into three di- visions—God's poor, the devil's poor and ‘poor deevils.’ The first class comprises the aged, the halt, the blind and the in- firm: also that ever-varying number who are temporarily sore beset in life's strug- gles, but who 'bate nelther heart nor hope. They take our alms with much of the relish that they take physic and not a moment longer than they can do without it. It would be a pleasure to minister to them, but for one drawbackXhaving to witness the perfect agony which some manifest in accepting ‘the first bread they have not wrought for in a' thelr days.’ We remember a young married couple who came along with the stream of {m- migration the other year, calling upon us seeking employment. They wanted work and did not even hintatany other need. On the third day that they called, however, nature spoke out for herself, the young wife fainted on the doorstep. Bravely had they struggled with honest pride to conceal thelr urgent poverty and had nearly succeeded. For forty-eight hours they had not broken their f “Our second division ranks those who have sown to the wind and are now reap- ing the whirlwind; the lazy, the viclous and the demoralized. In working with themt we find Burns' words amply veri- fled: Ye'll find mankind an unco' squad, And metkle they will grieve you. “The ‘old residenters’ in California are by far the worst to manage. It {s amus- ing how they get rid of the idea of men- dicancy. They express themselves as be- ing ‘strapped,’ ‘played out,’ ‘flat broke,’ ‘euchred for the present’ and ‘jist in want of & Mft' etc. They are quite the antipodes of the old Gaberlunzie, who would willingly Andrew with: = fle into the barn, Or yet into the byre, Or in ahint the ha” door, Or doon before the fire. When they apply the question {is not simply how much you are disposed to give, but what are they willing to accept. ‘We have found them turning away, with an alr of contempt becoming an anclent Hidalgo, from the equivalent for a bright half crown. With the ne'er-do-weel, we are more prone to enter into judgment than to extend to him sympathy. Prob- bly the more our lives are ‘like a weel- gaum mill' we are the less disposed to make due allowance for human frality and error. How to deal with this stratum of soclety has been a problem testing the ablest minds in all countries, The sump- tuary laws in the time of Henry VIII gave the bummer or vagrant but short shrift. First indictment, whipping at the carttail; second, ears slit; third and last, death. In this age we esteem pre- vention better than cure and cure prefer- able to killing. Whether an eating of the husks, with its swinish accessories, will restore a man to industry and self-re- apect or precipitate him into a felon's R TRR SONG3 THREY SING. — l | | ll prison depends ugon an Influence affect- ing the motivities of human action alto- &ether distinct from that exerted by the stern natural law under which he suf- fers. That which qualifies the almsgiving of national, moral and religious socleties and distinguishes It from parochial aid or city relief is the degree in which it is made a means rather than an end. The baneful isolation created by social dis- franchisement, which binds the wretch to his destiny, is sometimes happily bridged over by a loaf of bread graced with the outcome of a leal, kind heart. ““The third class, the ‘poor deevils,’ are constitutionally the world's poor rela- tions. Under no possible arrangement of circumstances can their condition be im- proved. If placed in paradise in the even- ing we would expect to meet the out- side in the morning, for no other reason than their irrepressible tendency to roll out of luck. The only tenacity they ex- hibit is to life—if that amount of vitality can be called life which simply insures them an appetite and wards off the under- taker. They eke out a lengthened, whim- pering existence, ‘makin’ a pulr mooth frae the cradle to the grave.' “The difficulty which beset the man- agement was the auld family bother to decide when:‘to spend and when to spare.’ Any one that has had much practice in, charitable distribution must have been struck with that which is its bane—its tendency to multiply applicant It is perfectly astonishing how soon needy’ o Ry e wil and It literally trie that ‘the poor ¥ have always with you.' Now it 'mn this pressure that stimulated debate and occasionaly created disaffection. Cases were continually turning up exciting sym- pathy. The fleshpots of “the relief com- mittee could not always meet the de- mand, but there stood the steck ox fat tening In the stall-why not kill him? To which canny Aberdeen wisely replied, ‘Jist bide a wee, ye'll maybe no get an- ither.' If its fate were ever imperiled at all it was only during momentary impulse excited by the urgent wants or our coun- trymen.”* This canny Scotchman goes on to say that the dramatic interest conterred upon calamity by the incidental setting of cir« cumstances frequently excites more sym- pathy than the actual degree of suffering. By means of his dramatic pictures he has been able to send many a poor woman home with “stller enow to buy a cow.” The soclety does not feel at all kith to the man that begrudges the rain thad falls into the sea. They do not conmstrvs the widow's portion to be an exact coun- terpart of the widow's mite. They make it “twopence.” There {s one more duty the St. Andrew’s perform to thelr indigent countrymen and that' is the last—they bury the dead. He that careth not for the dead is but a hailf friend to the lving. These men come from a land where graves are hallowed. They ' hold that the end of the race dee cides for the runners and their friends.