The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, August 30, 1903, Page 6

er from & bee without getting stung. EAUTY is only skic deep, but that's deep enough 3o satisfy any bands during bours. and Zace business UTY means some- thing uovleasant b other fellow ought to do. reasonable man. LOTEES don’t make the man, but they make all of him except his THE SUNDAY CALL. — " APHORISMS FROM THE SILVER POPPY By Arthur Stringer. 5 OME people come out of a book like a spaniel out of water, scattering a shower of ideas over you.” “Society, my dear, is like salt water—good to swim in, but hard to swallow.” “To make your heart, you must first break your heart.” ? “Life is only a vaudeville, with hunger and love for topliners.” “Humor is the tail to the kite of affection.” “Womankind is the upholstery of life, wearing the soonest where it is the y Klondike of achievement has its Chilkoot of adversity.” “To wear love's brand you must stand love’s burn.” the ebb tide of love that shows the mud flats of the s dog of a life—mongrel of joy and misery that it is." “A song in the heart is worth two in the book.” * “Life without love, my child, is the axle of existence without grease.” ly what we have been.” he answered, ‘is a man who would stand up against the —for a woman's sake.’” can husbands, you know, usually show more wh velvet than claws.” N A great man? Impossible! He hasn’t a dozen enemies!” A woman's last love is always a rechauffe of her first.” hina of sentiment packed in the sawdust of sense.” b-nosed Helen of Troy, my child, there would never have been a Trojan war.” “A cynic, is he? alt.” e m.> are born businesslike, my dear, the same as they’re born omen’s hearts never break nowadays, but, oh, how often they Manhattans of the mind always have their Boweries of the blood.” The defeated heart,” sighed the woman in black, ‘has the habit of g its own dead!" " ¥ e souls of ours are like railway bridges—they can be reconstruct- ven when the trains of trial and temptation are creeping over them!” “It is the undercrust of motive that is the test of the moral pie!” “A Ij_andé jealousies, my dear, are the mushrooms on the beefsteak of our age genius has to be picked green, like watermelons, so as not 1 on the market!” 5 ood men,” she had once said, ‘are like good roads—made to walk liliputian temptations—they remind us that the threads which er down were very small threads, but there were " so many of t is a sorrowful day when the eyes of youth can gaze openly into the eyes of defeat!” 7 “Upward through illusion and onward through error—that is life!” “He fretted at idleness, oppressed by the gayeties of life when they chanced to fall before the hour of the dinner gong and the Tuxedo coat!” “With use there must be no divided love!” “What is more desolate than life’s moral Great Divide?” “We prefer our pessimists young and tender, like asparagus. older and what a bore even Hamlet might have been!” “To a good many Americans a life of hurry is the only life of ease.” “Great men are rugged and lonely, like lighthouses, and., like light- houses, they are very useful!” “Women accept the confusion of stalwart manhood as the profoundest tribute to their own power!” “Her flashing wit was a spade bayonet, with which, when not piercing her enemy, she intrenched herself.” Ten years ' THE ORACLE OF MULBERRY CENTER By S. E. Hiser. ‘ ULBERRY CENTER, Aug. 26.—Hurrah for an elastic currency. or. if we can't have an elastic currency, we want the next best thing. Them are the sentiments of the leadin’ financial experts of these parts, and it looks as though something was goin’ to be done by Congress, un- less Wall street changes its mind before winter sets in. Judge Miller and me had quite a long talk about it one day last week and I've come to the conclusion that something’s got to be done. [ didn’t much believe in disturbin’ things at first, bein’ one of the original stand-patters, but the judge told me Uncle Mark was for new finan- cial legislation, so we ought to have it. “How is it,” I says to the judge, before I'd got a good clear under- standin” of the question, “that there’s so much talk about currency legisla- tion now? It seems to me, if I don’t disremember, that these same people ¢ \X \‘e that are yellin’ for new laws on the money question now were tellin’ us a lewl years ago that it would be a crime to change our money system. They said the gold standard fixed everything in that line forever and the money ques- tion was a dead issue. What's the matter? Ain’t the gold standard keepin® things goin’ just right after all?” “Jeff,” says the judge, “in the circumambient correlation of the syn- thetic megarythm there is a2 sublunary quintessence of syllogistic dogmatism with which you seem to be deeply tinctured.” If he'd of been a stranger and said it at me I think I would of made him eat his words, but knowin’ the judge don't always mean more'n half he says I overlooked it. “Jefi,” he says, “you make the same mistake that most people who don't g0 deep enough into these subjects make. The trouble before was that the people who wanted a change in our currency system was a lot of greenhorns that hadn't any money themselves and consequentionally by the juxtaposi- tion of the fundamental principle of every platitudinal equation couldn’t know anything about the question. You wouldn’t go to a man that never had any children of his own to get pointers on how to bring up your boy, would you? Yit, Jeff, them’s the kind of chaps that's always tellin’ people with four or five husky boys in the fambly how to raise them so they will grow up to be leadin’ citizens. It’s poor old human nature, I guess, that makes most men always want to meddle with things they don’t know any- thing about. + Then take all he says with an ounce of civet and a x “PASTELS IN PORK.” . ONE of the most remarkable literary creations in years are the “Pastels in Pork” written by George Horace Lorimer, under the title of “Letters From a Self-Made Merchant to His Son,” which, as the name would indicate, are broadly American, shrewd, clever, witty and filled with a practical philosophy and business acumen that are real, vital and democratic. The book has been a tremendous sensa- tion, so much so that its pithiest sayings are quoted herewith by ar- rangement with Small, Maynard & Co., the publishers, Bos- ton, Mass. One of the most striking novelties is “Old John Gorgon Graham’s Alphabet,” reproduced as a border all around this page. There is truth as well as humor in every line of that alphabet. Next Sunday The Call readers will be treated to another novelty from the same book. FADS AND PHRASES. By Elizabeth Hyle. HERE was once a Bookworm who derived considerable amusement from tracing the origin of some of the fads and phrases that daily greet us. It is really interesting to note how many originated in some incident far back in the centuries. A few of the jottings in the notebook of this curio-hunter read like this: Hand-shaking—The habit of hand-shaking was, in its origin, simply a denial of murderous intent. When our pusillanimous forefathers had advanced within stabbing distance of each other they raised their hands above their heads to prove themselves wea- ponless. From which custom developed the grasp of friendship—and of hypocrisy. The modern mode of shaking hands at the level of one's eyes is in imi- tation of an English lady of rank, who, while mounting the stairs with her long court train over her arm, met an acquaintance and shook hands in this awkward position to avoid dropping those yards of satin and silk. Sandwiches—Our sandwich is another memento of English fadism. Lord Sandwich was one day so engrossed in high-stake baccarat that he would not leave the game though lunch time had come and gone, and even when the waiter brought him some slices of cold beef and bread, clapped three of them together and hurried them down t'he red lane. The whole club promptly developed appetites like my Lord's, and the world has fol- lowed suit. Blinders—It was another English nobleman with racing propensities and a wall-eyed prize-winner who introduced blinders. He adorned them with his monogram, the fashionable world went and did likewise, and to- day every American dray-horse feels the consequences. Ecru Lace—One of the Countesses of Flanders was responsible for ecru Jace. The story runs that the impetuous lady swore not to change her linen. no, nor the ball dress she then wore, till 2 certain siege on one of her husband’s castles should be raised. The siege lasted a year and the Coun- tess kept her vow. There was nothing for the poor court -dames to do but follow the Countess, so “ecru” became the color of fashion. Rhyme or Reason—We who so commonly use the phrase, “Without rhyme or reason,” seldom remember it was connected with so select a trio as Queen Elizabeth, Spencer and the Lord Chamberlain. The poet, aiter reading his “Faerie Queene” to [Elizabeth, to whom it was dedicated, hand- ed the manuscript to the Lord Chamberlain, as was customary; and await- ed his bounty. “How much shall I give him?” asked the keeper of the royal exchequer. “Give him in reason,” replied her Majefty. But evi- dently the Chamberlain held the poet in mean esteem, for no largess was given him nor was the verse returned. At last these gouplets appeared at court and, as we like to believe, opened the Chamberlain’s hand: “It was said, upon a time, I 4hould have ‘Reason’ for my Rhyme; From that hour unto this season I've had neither Rhyme nor Reason!” Baker's Dozen—In England there was so heavy a fine for short-weight in bakery goods that the shopkeepers bégan to throw in an extra biscuit or cake with every dozen sold to make up for any chance deficiency, which explains why we call thirteen “a baker's dozen.” Fashions in Footwear—Pictures of the court of Charles VIII of France show many a fop whose satin shoes are gathered in full pleats across his toes, giving his foot the shape of a duck’s. This was a tribute to the King's “royal superfluity of toes,” his Majesty being blessed with twelve. Enter Trousers—It was one of his successors, Louis XII, who banished the old knee-breeches and introduced the présent atrocities to conceal his own exceeding deficiency as to calf, 1y ippon—The Japanese flag recalls the celestial folk-lore history of Tui Sen, Governor of one of the Chinese provinces about 300 B. C., who might- ily offended the Emperor and fled across the seas with his little band of faithful retainers in search of a new home and country. Each morning Tui Sen's first supplication was, “The gods give the sun to shine on us this day!” The prayer was answered all the days of the voyage, in recognition of which grace the adventurers emblazoned the sun in their flag and named their land Nippon, or the Sunshine Land. The less romantic historian says that Nippon means “the origin of the sun” and signifies Japan's extreme easterly position. The Wedding ‘Flower—The orange flower derives its claim to preced- ence among wedding flowers from over two thousand years ago, when the Greek girls adorned themselves on their bridal day with the sweetest flower displaying the color of Hymen—saffron. “So it was only natural for the people to turn against the ones that wanted to disturb financial conditions a few years ago, and so we snowed Mr. Bryan under -so deep that he could never be heard from' again. except wherever two or three Democrats were gathered together. We didn't want a crowd of amateurs that didn’t hardly know what a hundred-doMar bill looked like comin’ along and givin’ us a new financial standard. You can see for -yourself-how -dangerous- it would of ‘been. “Now it's different. The people that have the money seem to want * financial legislation, and if they think a change would be a good thing there can't be much doubt that we ought to have it. Take a grand old financial expert like Mark Hanna. that's made a study of momey all his life; and when he says something ought to be done to our currency, we can make up our minds it would be wrong not to listen to the voice of the prophet. When the men that are doin’ business on Wall street say the time has arrove for new currency laws, we can put away the fears we had when a lot of Popu- lists oue West that had no bizness to think of anything besides ogettin’ ready for the regular payments on morgidges wanted to pull down the bull- works of our Goverpment by changin’ the financial system that had brought us prosperity and was the work of wise and noble statesmen.” “I can't just see,” says I to the judge, “why it is that if our currency system was perfect then it’s got to be such a biamed poor thing now.” “Well, T'll tell you,” says he. “There's been changes in conditions. It used to be when Wall street got pinched the whole country felt it If money was scarce in Wall street the people all over our broad land had to go DELIGHTS FOR THE VACATIONLESS By the Parson. army of them is much larger than commonly supposed. When we say “everybody is out of town” we don’t mean exactly what we say. There is never an hour in the sum- mer when as many of the inhabitants of a given commu- nity are out of town as remain at home. In the first place there is the big contingent of laborers by the day, most of whom cannot afford to take a vacation because even a short absence means a lessened income. Then there are those detained by the care of infants, invalids, the infirm and the aged. It is hard, for instance, for the average mother of young children to get a vacation. Moreover, the work done day after day by certain persons.is so related to a network of activities that if they lay down their special tasks the machinery of the gn- tire concern halts or goes slowly. It is sometimes easier for the office boy o get a holiday than for the head of the business, It takes considerable grace, I confess, to see the summer slipping away without bringing you any let-up. Out-going trains and steamers are packed with people loaded down with golf sticks, tednis rackets and hammocks. You read of the merrymakings at the different resorts. Your friend comes back ruddy and vigorous after his month or fortnight in camp. And still you plod away and the green fields and dancing brooks and restful moun- tains seem very far off. You call it hard luck and wonder if your turn will ever come. But is it such terrible hard luck after all? Think of the time spent in hunting up places and in studying timetables, of the disappointments that often befall the pleasure seeker, of the possible hard beds and the fly-infested tables and the mosquito-frequented piazzas and the long waits at the railway junctions and the noisy children in the next room and your own cramped quarters. When you are at home you may not live samptuously, but at least you know what you are to encounter whem you return at night and you have learned go adjust yourself to it. And even when vacation conditions are satisfactory, oh, how quickly the days speed by, and before you know it the long-anticipated season is over. Then you are on a level again with the man who has stayed at home all the time. But to speak in a little more serious vein—is any man entirely vacation- less? I was talking the other day with the executive head of an important establishment, who not only frankly admitted that he never took a vacation, but absolutely gloried in the fact. “I found,” said he, “that I had to work extra hard before going and extra hard after coming back, and so I con- cluded the easier thing would be to stay at my post right along. But I have my Sundays, and they make fifty-two days in a year, which is quite a vaca- tion in itself, and I have my nights, and there are 365 of them in a year, and so I manage to get along nicely.” Pretty good philosophy that for the members of “The-Can’t-Get-Away- Club!” We must not forget that the Creator has made careful provision for the needs of even the hardest worked man. Of course, if he misuses these God-given opportunities of relaxation, if he works steadily seven days in the week, or if he'employs the Sabbath hours in such a way that they de- plete his physical and nervous energy, if he carouses night after night, he is burning the candle at both ends and the outcome will be speedy collapse. But if he gets in his eight hours’ sleep at night and rests and worships on Sunday he can go a long while without the conventional vacation. Much depends on the way the vacationless man uses the margins of his time. They tell us that one can master many books eventually if he will only improve the odd moments. One may get through Motley’s “Dutch Republic,” for example, while waiting for the meals to be put on the table. It'1s-not otherwise with this matter of recreation. Learn to utilize the chinks of time, to slip away for half a day. Cherish, too, the inward mood that lends itself to imaginary flights away from the beaten routine, the sordid set- ting of ‘our daily life. A man who thus keeps his mind open to higher things can get physical as well as intellectual profit from dipping in#® a_book like Henry Van Dyke’s “Little Rivers,” while David's quieting xxiii Psalm will be like a draught of cold water in a thirsty land. Vacations are splendid things if you can get them. But when you can’t, make the best of the situation. THE PARSON. IMPARTS SOME NEW WIT AND WISDOM Alias Jefferson Dobbs. hungry. That showed that the financial condition was all right. But now it's got so that sometimes Wall street can have a flurry and get all run down and the outside people keep right on doin’ bizness, hardly noticin’ that any- thing's wrong. That shows there ought to be a change. Things can’t be right when the grocery keepers at Sheboygan, Wis., and farmers in Ohio can keep right on without noticin’ any difference when. Wall street’s all tore up and the millionaires down there are so short of cash that some of them even have to git along with their last year’s steam vots. When things come to that kind of a pass it’s time to put our pride away,and come right out brave and reckanize the fact that ther’s something the matter with our finan- cial system.” “How are we goin’ to fix it, judge?”’ I asked him. “What we need,” says he, “is an elastic currency.” I've heard a good deal lately about an elastic currency, but before talk- in’ with the judge about it I'd never seemed to understand just what it meant. [ hated to let him find out about my igncrancy, but as the poet says: The man who never.asks What anything’s about, Stands mighty little chance Of ever finding’out. So I come right out and asked him what an elastic currency was. He looked kind of surprised that an enlightened man like me could ask such a fool question, but he couldn’t help seein’ that 1 was honest about it, anyway. “Well,” he says, “I'll tell you. An elastic currency is something like one of these toy balloons. You know how them things shrink up when you let the air out of them. They don't seem 'to amount to much for looks or anything else when they’re empty, but the more you blow in and stretch them the better they look. What we need is a currency that'll stretch good when things are filled up with water. If it was'nt that the experts down in New York want something done I would be in favor of lettin’ well enough alone, but when the millionaires begin to see that they ain’t gittin’ anywhere near all of it, [ say it's time to act. Out in Iowa, some of the people seem to think it would be a good thing to cut down the tariff, but it would be dan- gerous to disturb things. We can’t run the risk of doin’ any experimentin’, and a lower tariff wouldn’t help anvbody but the people that have to buy things, anyway, so what's the use talkin' foclish? Let's stand pat.” 1 felt some worried about what might happen before the judge explained, but my confadunce has been restored since I've got so I understand the situation, B Yours for the spread of reason, JEFFERSON DOBBS. % —_— ULUS, explained the deacon, are de- rived of twenty- ve helpful little tracts every time {rfl smoke & two- it cigar.