The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 22, 1903, Page 7

to “Biglé Riley’s address of welcoma. task. Under a frowning limestons cliff “Big”’ Pfley was Mayor of the camp and only a few feet away the court of Judgs Lynch was still in sesston. his raucous volce faitered when he look- “If I only had one more chance,” the A ntig e tate maverick muttered. “There is & chance “that on this spot we should greet our and I'll take it,” he finally sald aloud. gt uished fellow citizen and his beau- pers give much space to religious in- h were many bad men in the -early days, but the represented by the *° put themselves and ecord as against un- ries and present struggles lead us to expect good results. The noble example of our victorious predecessors has, ‘without doubt, lessened cowardice and sloth in our land and so to-day in- spires us with a sure hope that brings not & ‘squealer. S looked upward. A few inches Its bark th n e. As Slocum gazed at bride, her eyes whispered: “Dear, victories with it. THANKS WE DON'T GIVE By the Parson. em puddin’s and them ples om and the water to my eyes lass Thanksgiving dinr o the Thanksg: not long ago, contained s day for his goodness w unty of the Crea or this day only.” more than 225 years ago acceptances we smother up the same. returned glory, e Plymouth Colony, accounting f f appreciation and gratitude felt 365 thought it wo et ready for next Thursday and weil 2 moment on what you al- but you are Id like more, at least say as much as the converted t by the missionary to ask a pressure he bowed his head grub even if we don’t get 1 trace back our bl essings to their sources and recognize how rsons have had a share in sprea ding our table and filling our he get his coal his bread. his sugar, aged in the production, transporta- se absolute necessaries of existence. giving for others is the fatrer used always on Thanksgiving morn- 1 in the barn a double portion of provender. I know refinement who last year declined several invitations n order to make a glad Thanksgiving feast for half a upon to do that, but you ¢ a place at your own board for some needy, lonely one. ake 2 h#nnv Thanks best kind of 1 You may not be called might perhaps m: these heroes were e offer our thanks- and our God. If m is justified, it rest upon these same And it is true that good- is the harbinger of success, n our land. Our last two this tendency. 's dying reference mn, “Nearer, My God, to ted those words with deep- ficance to multitudes, and every 1 all parts of our country, this bly sacred hymn is turning men's rts toward God. President Roose- aching—yes, preaching—of T s has had a great influence national life, and the good- ess A ess and the manliness of g E ecognized and honored r before. Read careful- of the Thanksgiving proc- )ation and note the strong religious I quote a part of this message the people: “It falls upon the Pres- to appoint a day of praise and nksgiving to God. During the last year the Lord has dealt bountifully with us. ¢ ¢ © “Therefore, in thanking God for the mercies extended to us in the past, we beseech him that he may not with- id them in the future, and that our may be roused to war steadfast- for good and against all the forces of evil, public and private. We pray for strength and light, so that in the com- rs we may with cleanliness, ssness and wisdom do our allotted on the earth in such manner as to show that we are not altogether un- worthy of the blessings we have re- ceived.” Such lives and words are in- For the old and for their very station of thanksgiving. This wedge-shaped letter V has in its very form the promise of progress that we feel when we see the sharp prow of a swift vessel. Vision and virility point to victory. Victory is a strong, glad word—strong, for without struggle there is no victory; glad, for the joy of overcoming is the suprem- est happiness. The struggle for existence has been flerce, and some forms of animal life have ceased to exist, but the better and more use- ful have been multiplied. Millions of sheep replace the numerous wolves of former days. However little we like this process of elimination, we are obliged to admit that the results are geod. Man, from the beginning, has been forced to prove his right of exis tence. He has won the victory over an- imals, though less in muscular power than they. Man has fought against man; at first from the very lowest mo- tives, such as desire for revenge or for booty. But if you study the wars of history you will notice that more and more a righteous motive, on at least one side, has been the impulse that led to battle. The great wars of our coun- try have been struggies involving the very highest moral issues. victo- strong, good men of worthy successors in life we render our We each one of us have a war to wage with the lower self and victory is plainly possible, and further, we may help others in their conflict to victory. There are many men whose lives are helping others. One of these Is Jacob Riis, the suc- cessful warrior in the battle of the slums in New York City. Another is Booker Washington, the champion who is leading hosts of colored people to larger and higher Ii And Theo- dore Roosevelt, the ate friend of these two great men, e spirit, as he urges )n to the strenuous life of righ thich means victory. Let us thank the god of battles for the heroes of terday and of to-day and of rrow. I am aware of the fact that I have depart- ed from the usual custom of counting at this season the blessings of the last twelve months. I have felt that the past, present. and fu e are so inti- mately interwoven that our thanksgiv- ing must reach out from the glorious present in both directions. The roots of the “big trees” of our State reach down deep underground and their branches wave hundreds of feet above the earth. Every year these trees add one circle of new wood to the hundreds telling the story of past years and each circle is larger than the preceding one. Our State is growing in ltke manner: reaching down into the dead past and drawing life therefrom and reaching high into the realm of ideals and drink- ing in health and gladness. This year California has added another circle to her growth, and this year’s circle is the largest yet and tells of vast in- crease in wealth, in population, in rep- utation and, best of all, increase in character and righteousness. REvery one of us may catalogue our mercies, national and personal. The list will be long for each of us; therefore we can all unite on this glad day in joyful thanksgiving to God for his wonderful goodness toward us. Gifts received with true gratitude open up the way for more and larger blessings. Let us therefore with heartiest accord “praise God, from whom all blessings flow."” — He Was No Squealer EFORE Harshaw was 24 hours old the thirty men who constituted its population were preparing to at- tend a funeral. A plains maverick, Jed Slocum by name, was also ar- ranging for the event. He had drifted into the gulch with the rush and a few hours later had been caught robbing the kit of a sleeping prospector. Then Slocum reviewed his past. Like a panorama his career passed befors his mental camera. His flight to the West was pictured and he saw himself skulking in the shadows of tempting fortune in the gambling hells of the mining camps, his only comfort whisky. He roused himself with difficulty. He peered about. There sat Bennett greasing the rope. The grave diggers were engaged in their grewsome and then his lips moved as If uttering & prayer. Two hours later Slocum was conducted to the hanging tree. He was as reckless as o war hero. He cursed his execution- ers and laughed in their solemn faces. Bennett placed the greased moose abou his neck and adjusted it skillfully. “Big” Riley, the self constituted head of the camp, looked on with amazement. “Damn him!” he growled. “Why don’t he squeal?” Slocum heard him. “Squeal! Me squeal!” he exclaimed. *“Why, this is what I came West for. Life has been a faflure. Why, partners, I want to die! I'm ready to quit. You're the best friends I've struck in the Territory. Do the job right and I'll be satisfied Riley was stumped. The maverick “Big’ ' appreciated the situation “Don’t you worry, Riley,” he said, kindly. “Get hold of that rope and pull hard.’ “I'll see you blasted first,” yelled the leader. “YowTe too easy, and you'rs too damned mean to dle. I'll not help you. Boys, let's call this thing off. Let's give him a chance.” The “boys” were willing. Bennett re- possessed himself of the rope and then tarmed to the maverick. “You'd better skip,” he said. A ; “No skip for me,” replied Slocum. “I like ‘white men’ too well to leave them.” The camp tolerated Slocum. He did his share of the preliminary work inci- dental to the organization of the camp. He was elected recorder and his conduct was so exemplar¥ that he was appointed agent of the express company that es- tablished an office there in the early days of the boom. In time he became the cus- todian of the funds of the men who had voted to hang him. When the time was ripe for the establishment of a church he headed the subscription list. He presided at public meetings and was sent to the Territorial convention as the representa- tive of the political views of the camp. He was a steadfast advocate of law and order. Cards never tempted him and liquor rarely passed his lips. From the despised maverick he was transformed into a leading citizen. He was elected to the Legislature, and his crowning glory was his selection as a delegate from Ari- sona to the national convention of his party. When he returned from the East- ern city in which the convention was heid he was accompanied by a bright-faced and cheery young woman—his wife. The news of his marriage had preceded him. When the stage, in which he and his bride were traveling from the rail- road to the camp, appeared at the head of the gulch it was greeted with a volley of lusty cheers. Anvils in which pow- der had been tamped roared a salute. The camp’s silver cornet band played “See the Conquering Hero Comes.” The horses were taken from the stage and a rope was attached to the vehicle. The hands of & hundred enthusiastic admirers of the former maverick seized the rope and at a galliop hauled the stage to the hanging tree. Beneath its foliage, on an impro- vised platform Siocum stood and listened itul bride. endeared himself to the members of that hardy little band by proving that he was It was here that he founded camp and it was here that he first cum answered softly, “is & man who is afraid to play his baad when the cards are stacked agalnst him.” 'THIRSTFOR NOVELTIES + By H. A. Bridgeman. ide is that of constant yearning for the novel. The special joys and in- terests of the summer are hardly over before they begin to reach after the round of autumnal sports and amuse- These in turn lose their edge of delight before it is really time to plunge into the peculiar gayeties and di- versions of winter. So on through the year these people gallop from one fountain of pleasure to another, stopping hardly long enough to slake their thirst and always cr something a little more exciting. The mewest story, the latest sensation at the theaters, the most recent dictum of Dame Fa bulk largest in their thought. The question most frequently on their lips is not “What have I now, what may I enjoy this moment?” but “What's coming next?” This craving is getting to be a marked characteristic of American life. And with its emergence we are losing something of the old-time steadiness and power of concentration and much of the former simp of life. It has made itself felt in our most substantial institutions. even crept into the church and produced a demand for a new voice in the pulpit and for “modern methods.” which term, way, covers a great variety of new features, good, bad and in T om bright, at- tractive reading-rooms and gymnasiums to the so ments. dient of women ushers and a kind of vaudeville pariors on weekday evenings. As a nation we are straining We must beat yesterday’s record somehow or other. Our b e a little more more highly gorgeous, our homes a little more palatial, our di spiced to-day than yesterday. To condemn utterly this craving would be absurd long run progress and a better civilization. But for the should be what condiments are to a feast. I w a man whose thought when he sits down to his meals £ les. Now that is not a normal appetite. One ought to crav good bread and butter, meat and vegetables. Then let the pi other relishes come in as side dishes, not as the staple elements o nr One could not live without something to look not to live entirely upon his anticipations of the ing, the next excitement. The pleasures ahead are many for all of us—are designed to exercise but woe be to the man who finds his chief zest what he may have, not in what he is, but in what is doing, but in what he expects to be doing on some The external world, it is true. is continually renewir self. “Chance and change are busv ever.” Man's et thing different is recognized and provided for e su sons and in the differing glories of summer and vest. But the same skies bend over us that arc dering Abraham and his herdsmen. The fields ments from year to year, the trees take on the bri process goes on according to a fashion which ha to generation and the world is not more beau ing of creation. Let not then the thirst for the novel dominate vou is still something of value in the old ways, the old the old books, the old friendships. One who allow t to Euw upon him loses the ioy he might have in his present work looks the cup of blessing right at hand and misses the real prizes of orward to, but he ougt he next t ot in v