The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, June 14, 1903, Page 14

14 THE SUNDAY CALL. T — 2 - WHTER 871_0/2 By SOTHERN WHEN /6 >EAkS OF AICE DEIINTED 17 SLPAIN = not nice to e up ™. painted when he was 18 ¥ ot age. One llke it there, fe by 1 V you but what else can eolitary palm rises in the distance. Near don’t 3 u know, but w the wheel stand a man and a beast. with it “When are you and ye “Did Mr. Friedman tell you that was . "0o0 S0 0. AN ? \d a donkey?” he asked, gazing pensively at = . on't Know: \“m}”]‘vl“n“ AN < the beast. “I've no doubt he did. He h|.u?r} la::-an;" We // u‘ Q \'\‘; o distresses me greatly by telling every- that gives us both good par s ants ] 3 SN body that that is a donkey. Now wouldn't & big part and I have to bavelone ¢o8 7 ’r e = ; you know it is & caow? Wouldn't any one You know, and it's right = - I// 8 n e’ know it is a caow? I ask him why he ;jf;:fs'"bxzurzhr'l;q %// & "‘////// = doesn’t call it & stag and be done with ¥ 4/,’ A //// =4 . it; that would be the most picturesque Chromos and Gorpees. 8 '/flluw \ = animal.” fu speaing of thd-Bupenits 4 ¢ 3 “Is there much of your painting hung .’ ticed on people who ha o some special line, in I % Cornelius Stévenson Tt pin s the following A\\\l'&“-’" s instances “A young woman of more refinement called upon me o1 for publication my opinior excellence of a floral ch as a bait to subseri Sunday paper. I bunch of vividly lilacs spread up ground, the whole cover somewhat smaller tha self. She had b that moioing to o the sare chromo from Judges of the Orpharns the court in session he the throne to await Honor, however. wh wishing to spare her a lox peret the artistio s NV - 2 -qllmmh\’ = to the bar during a pa = ceedings and courteously 3 =/ sould do for her. She de 1 and re / i 20 could ¢ ! X r / ) Z plied that she could wait iy o %// < pressed her. Whereupc tense Y 7 S embarrassment, she was obligéd to ) /%/- Ihat § en and there to state her absutd err 7, S > flush of mortifi t [ @\& N\ \ \ and we put them together, don't vofi know; that is the furnishings. Made rather a neat little place for us.” “But when it came to the and corating the new home—who de- signed Most of the rooms in green; 1 sort’of fancy green, Fbiinily rawing-room. for in- stance—you see the striped effect of the walls. They are a very pale green and the woodwork is white. The ecarpet is green. Bui a drawing-room is the hard- €t room i the world “to furnish it never seems to have any pe Ality or hospitality. Nobody .cver goes there un- less it is for the sake of the piano. Draw- ing-rooms are cold places. The crowd is always e libra When I fou the girls wrote at my desk 1 prettiest and the most femimne little desk that 1 could find in New York, and I fit- ted it up with all the silver trinkets that could be bought: and 1 mentioned the fact to the girls. >But it went in at one ear and out at the other. The silver tar- nizhes from disuse when the maid for- gets to rub it. It's no use. They won't ve me alone. spite of this terrible heart-to-heart story, Mr. Sothern has avoided that hunt- ed look. No doubt this is where the. ac- AN, THE T IFIR tor in him shows out. It is a Felief to 4 one’s sympathies to know that he was in & San Francisco for two restful weeks with father's triendshins, and there are few in your home her cheek as she told her story. and when American star is no man without a home. me was when he traveled. Now- ften as he (or she) gets play he'camps in New of the season permanent abiding place goes to his ‘theater by hbor goes to bis office by his play is not good he sighs for , he takes a trip and the bright their homes there. himself a dwelling on et—or perbaps he Perhaps it was as much hern, or Virginia willing to own that her pie about the house: n out of my library, even. the picture, sitting shere in omfort and the kingly solitude As a matter of d more than a cor- Wherever I go my yife 1 come home littered with feminine table strewn with fashion d of girls follow. plates.” It is the eternal cry of abused mankind. How much of it is a matter of furm—how much peace he really wants and how much he slyly enjoys being driven out and bulied about—that is for Mrs. Sothern to answer “But I've started out to write about your home.” said the patient questioner. “My home? I haven't any home. No married man has. A New York lawyer told me recently that he gave over all his house except the study to his tamily, and that study he announced as reserved for himself. But the crowd always pursued him there. So he gave up the study and fled to bis own bedroom. The crowd fol- lowed. At last he sought a small cup- board and locked himself in. ‘You can’t come in here,’ he cried triumphantly. ‘Oh, it’s no trouble to break the door,’ was the cheerful response. You see it's all the same—it doesn’t matter whether you're a lawyer or what you are—you've no place of your own.” ““Traitor to her sex, the interviewer told him of a husband who flees to an attic accessible only by a trap door, slams the trap door and pulls a couch over it. Mr, Sothern was thoughtful. “I'll remember that,” he said. 8o if Miss Harned searches for her spouse in vain she may look for a trap door in her ceiling and shake her fist at SOTHERN 10 415 SRV TE RN Lo 4 San Franclsco newspaper woman for the deadly suggestion that divided a house against itgelf, “Is the house large?"’ small house. don’t you know. we were married years ago we each had a flat of our own little place. without seeing it. a coolie driver., a hote! svite all his own. The overcrowded library 1s the kind of a room that people naturally seck. When he made it so cozy he signed the death warrant of his own solitude. It is & mag- netic room. It warms to you. It is a thorough going good fellow. The walls are a warm deep tone of green where they are given a chance to show them- selves. OtherWise they are covered with cabinets, book cases, pictures and hang- ings. A cheery fire welcomes you from one end of the room. Above it is a high carved mantel showing some of Mr. Soth- ern’s dearest treasures. Twd™ fine pic tures of Edwin Baoth are among these. His entire collection of theatrical por- traits is a valuable one, for it is the offspring of his own and his famous O e e s R WOMAN WHO SLEPT IN KING'S TOMB. RITING in the March House- keeper of some of the many places in which she has slept during her travels around the world, Jessie Ackermann says: “While traveling in that most interest- ing section of India, Cashmere, I heard of a wonderful tomb of some ancient king and was urged not to leave the country It was about a day’s journey from where I was stopping and 1 started on the trip one morning in a Government cart (British) with a native guide, who also acted as interpreter, and Expecting to return that night, 1 took neither bedding nor bag- Winter was just setting in and men looked wise as we started that morn- predicting all The road was abandoned dur- ing the winter because it led over a great waste, and no provision was made for travelers. - “Fifteen miles from our destination an accident befell our horse. Darkness was fast gathering. The only possible refuge was the king’s tomb, which we had start- ed to see, so we decided that the only thing te do was to walk the distance. 1 have always been fond of walking, but 1 cannot truthfully say that I enjoyed that fifteen-tuile tramp through the cold and darkness. “Reaching the tomb at last, we decided that it would be best for me to take up my cuarters within the tomb, the guide remaining with me, while the coolie walked to a village some miles farther on in search of another horse. “It was dark beyond description inside the tomb, and when the footsteps of the coolie could no longer be heard every sound, save one, died away on the still- ness of the night. I made my way cau- tiously to the farthest corner, groping along against the wall of the tomb, think- great actors of any recent period that 'No indeed. That is the only thing my I burst into an uncontrollabie fit of laug! cannot be found among them. Keene is uhe of the list. A number of good pictures of the elder Sothern are on the wall below the long book cabi- net. Ope shows him in his famous part of Lord Dundreary. Some of the pre- cious pld programmes of those yesteryears are framed and hung. Black oak is the woodwork of this room. One fine specimen is an immense carved chair of the wood. The upholstery is of a dark, warmly tinted tapestry. Turkish rugs almost cover the floor, save where a_ glistening eyed tiger sprawls before the fire and glimpses of the polished hard- wood show near the walls. Near the mantel hangs a picture very dear to Mr, Sothern’s heart. It is a scene in Spain, an old water wheel which he il [wiiinieiit @ irg to take what comfort could be had ftom so miserable a situation. “No_sooner had I settled for the night than I heard the most wierd, un2arthly scund that ever pierced human ears. The uncanny place had suddenly takan on the atmosphere of life. There was a sound of rushing of wings that froze the blood in my veins. My heart seemed to have stop- ped beating. Suddenly I discovered what it was, o+ *“A horde of horrid bats had awakened from their lethargy and simultaneously starteu on a tour of investigation. Bais are ugly creatures. I would rather have sixteen active babies all clutch my hair at the same time than surrendcer my locks to one sportive bat, especially of the In- dian varie*y. Their wings and shricks became a rhytbm to which my tired sense kept time until blessed slumber came_ and the morning brought a pair of fresh horses and a coolie laden with breakfast for two.” i wife will allow hung. Sne thinks that scene is rather picturesque, but she doesn’t admire any of my other pictures. She ordered them taken down.” So there might be a gallery of Sothern paintings if only Mrs. Sothern did not interfere. Where she has had them rele- gated her husband did not explain. “You were a painter by profession at one time?” “Oh, yes! I thoght that was going to be my life work. My father wanted me to be a painter.” “Have you a music room In your house?” “Oh, no! Except as there is a piano in the drawing room. We are not es- pecially musical.” “A billlard room?” “Oh, no! We don't care for billiards. It is just a home—a mere ordinary house.” “What is your dining room like?” “It's green. I rather fancy green. I have it almost everywhere. The walls are covered with this leather stuff, what do you call it, raised figures, you know. The wood is black oak. There's a great deal of it” - “And your bedrooms, are those green, too?” “No, not those. Miss Harned's room is blue, you know, and mine's a sort of yellow. White wood work in both. My room is full of curios that I've picked up in traveling.” . “From all over the world?” “I haven't been all over the world. ‘Wherever I go I load my trunk with odd things, you know what I mean, the sort of stuff that all tourists pick up. It's all worthless. For irstance, to-mor- row I'm going to Chinatown and I shall buy a lot'of opium pipes and that sort of things that I don’t want. When [ take it home Miss Harned will say, ‘““What on eartth did you bring this stuff for?’ Shé doesn't like litter of that sort. She won't have it around. I have to take it all to my own bedroom. She won't allow it amywhere eilse. I don’t much ter at the Tidiculous situation, s reproachfully at me. To her grotesque scene seemed trag looked t then the “However convinced one may be of one’s obligation to others, however de- sirous to belp worthy enterprises, thers are lines which one must draw in self-defense. And when onme da sumably because of my interest in an- cient Egypt, I was re to address some undertakers on bject the preservation of corp: the limit ap- peared to me to have been reached.” —_———————— Superstition About Opals. Of all the vagaries of women, the worst are those little superstitions about opals and new moons, or the belief in fortunes, which leads them to spend that an ill-looking old lady m: 1 their future from cards, or to wor s sick because a girl who has been ng a book, on palmistry has told them that some great trouble is about to befall Nature IS too big to be bothered about whether you walk under a ladder or whether you have a wiggle instead of a waggle in your hand. And yet to allow one’s self to believe in signs may have a very definite effect. We are, all of us, very susceptible to suggestion; to sug gest an illness or 'a trouble is often to bring it about, or at least to make some- body miserable through worrying over it. We are that which we think we are, ane to lock for ills is to nnd them. We have troubles enough without adding to them imaginary ones. Have no patience with those who sim- ply court these ills by éonstantly looking for signs. 1I! fortunes come fast enough Make an honest use of the present, -and the future will take care of itself. et the new moon look at you as it likes: i¢ somebody gives you an opal, just be glaq that you are that much ahead: walk un- der a ladder if that is the dry part of the pavement; and as for the lines in youe hand, spend the money you would | to a fortune-teller for chocolate it is a tetter investment. d give Creams—