The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 28, 1902, Page 5

1 GEORGE CO THE SUNDAY CALT,, S @ YPATRY Z PER PARDEE. | tally with the number of my If you nave once seen Lr. Pardee, scture of him, you know that other possible piace to find at hom built in the sixties by t-politician, E. H. Par- been aiowed to decay but no radical change It 1s suii the type of and prosperous citizen's It substantially prom- for of Par- _as you can see with . You can picture sons' 5" sons there for generations u couid 1f they were not all I went up the gravel walk of the es I passed the flock of them. They on croquet ground, their de- ful old-fashioned numbers augment- hboring flocks. The clicks of mallets and the patter of the'r ghe followed me merrily into the house i stole into the parlor where I waited. € front walk leads straight up to the steps, and the front steps lead ght up to the front door and the t door opens straight into the middie he hall, which divides the house into as all walks and doors and hails the substantial sixties before they d cranks of a The parlor and li- be seen to balance on either front hall and I would stake at the dining-room and kitch- ikewise in the rear, although see either of them. lor is unbending at a first belongs to the school of the set' and ss-framed d the gilt and onyx table. But For it stood sixt e old Pardee home e only place as If itably open a s and cordial. I there upon the music was “The Phrenologist Coon,” mod merry y nburdened with dignity. ) or into which ““The Phrenologist creeps is never unbending. e 6 o'clock hands made a straight line of themselves and they had reached a narrow angle before Dr. Pardee escaped to me. You forget all about that, though, when he comes. He has the kind of hand- that gr you thoroug and He does not leave out his thumb n he does it. I knew him for 'a busy man, so I did e words. evening, Dr. Pardee,” I hat kind of 2 man are you Dr. Pardee did not mince words, either. od evening,” said he. “I am a said. c fas typewriting a couldn't wait fo apher. 1 ing he work's time ne comes. So I break down instead. down ev- ery three or four yea n I get a vacation for a Ii “What do you vacation?" “Go_fishi onl ever get a chance to go ing down. I suppose it' a foolis but a man has to be w he was mad Dr. Pardee was evidently made far from a reposeful person, as he admits. Alertness is writ all nd it is a wiry sort of ale: lock of never sleeping, ev: given over to t quick motion: arrow of a lo : has the 1 in the hours it. It is in his words, his quick To top them all is his great blg forehead full of brains, enough to keep him busy twenty-four hours of the day. I have always had a suspicion of men who persistently wore beards, but me “Pardee,” buat erfluous and did not whether there was a I wovld risk shaving Dr. Pardee any day. I am certain that there is a chin behind the mask. “When I take these enforced vacations,” he went on, “I go off into the mountains just as far as I can go, and 1 take the family along. T have to get away from home to see all I want to see of them. I leave my frock coat behind and I have a good time. The thing I love is the coun- , open country—God’'s own coun- the rivers and the mountains and the trees that he made all in plain sight.” ““Phen you are less interested in men?" “Less interested in men? Why, there is nothing in the world so fascinating as the study of men.” “But you just said—"" “Yes, that's so. Well, the truth is, I like so many things. 1 suppose I don't like any one the best. Men are good and nature is good and I can enjoy them both is a time for all things, you —there is know “What is it you like about men?” “I like to wateh them, to study them." Nobody would ever doubt this after hav- ing one of those looks - shot _directly through him. They come from what I re- call as a blue—poseibly a gray—eve, and they come sharply from under the stra gat brow of the thinker. “I like to investigate why they do the things they do. You have a great chance for that in your profession. How do you like it?” Then he shot again, and I wondered for an instant whether I was interviewing or being interviewed. “Thie is a_time when I like it,” T said, “for 1 have had a large curiosity to know how a man can be physiclan with one- half of his brain and politician with the other. Now you are going to tell me.” “What is there to tell? I like to be both —my father was both before me, I have ays been both. What is there abow the two things that can't be reconciled?” “The lines are far, “I don’t see Wi far apart.” ‘What is there about decent man—"' 3 1y reason—-"" of the politiclan is that of the am one. life, d s one of the most worth w at there is.” It sounded very serious, but there was went with it. If occurred to me that he saw something in_men besides their social and v needs. He looked as if the great human family might be romething of a joke to him. Then there ashed through my head the story of I You see, he uses human nature in ways serious, if you recall that uch as three years ago. andsome young Council- and . v A ned to be afflicted with the same name as a car conductor. The conductor suddenly appeared before the public eye in the role of wife deserter and sweetheart murderer, murderer. or would-be There was some confusion He had deserted a wife in the identity of the two Frank Motts, and over the East and attempted the life of a newer Pardee, who was a good friend of tne love in the West. Councilman, twinkled his eye under the straight eyebrow. He spent his off-time for several days inviting mutual friends to call on Frank Mott, the Councilman, and express their sympathy, assuring him of thelr bellef that he would be able lodmaka satisfactory explapation in the end. “It_cost me dollars’ worth of time,” said Mott, “and I'd be willing to buy the other fellow a ticket East if he would get out and quiet the thing.” The Pardee who did this was the same man who found a pun so irresistible that he had to make it once upon a time at Berkeley, and he paid the penalty like a hero. He was an alumnus, visiting his ol8 varsity, when it happened. He sat in a gallery during some commencement doings. Suddenly a clamor arose from his_corner_of the place. ““George Pardee has made a pun!” the report, and quick i him pay the penalty Thereupon he was stood upon his head, as the law_demanded, There was no re- dress, so George Pardee took his punish- ment like a man. Pardee,was a strong anti-frat man dur- ing his career at Berkeley. He was there during the years when the battle was hot between the two elements. Some of his spare hours went to this battle and some —the Sunday afternoon hours in particu- lar—went to visiting ‘‘Nellie” Penniman, who lived in the old Penniman home in Brooklyn, now East C.kland. Their ro- mance dates all the way back to their boy and girl hood. It was a Jacod and Rachel affair. He waited for her wnu, he was going through the University o California and taking the degrees of A.M. and Ph.D. He waited for her while he was going through Cooper Medieal Cal= Jege and the Leipsic University, plod: away all the time at his specialties. was well into the year 1387 before she rg= warded him. “When is our photographer to snap you and all of yours?” I asked him as I came away. “I can't tell any rore than you cam | I leave Oakland on an early boat for t city. I stay over there all day. I don' | eat lunch at all. I'm one of those people who doesn’t believe in it. I get home | when I can.” “Let us have a shot at you befops breakfast?"” “You can try. I don’t promise any- thing."” And in the face of Lo gromise the phos tographer and 1 bestirred ourselves af half-past 5 the next morning. and when we reached the house on Eleventh street the household was already stirring. “Herd 'em up and snap 'em.” were the doctor’'s directions. ‘“There’'s Betsye she's the big onme. And there's Adeling, Caroline, fishline, clothesline—no, Made- | line, that's it. And there’s Trilby. the red-headed one’s Rellly. BA-:: ‘em up.” i The four dignities—Miss Florence and Madeline and Carol and Helen—four dignitles that range all the way fourteen to six years, were pro ly 3 fended. But the four were he > never theless. And you are herewith presented with . the result of the herding.