The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 20, 1903, Page 5

TATHRAY N JARBOE HE trown sun-baked eart> l;“vtr‘hec in every direction as ar &s the eye could see; the & brown sun-baked adobe mission s hardly discernible from the brown ®ege-covered hillocks save for its opén . re sepla rhadows lay, save T its belfry tower that held aloft a Faunt redwood crose. the nortk cloisters whe For many weeks wind had blown incessantly, .Y‘.'.H“': across and a fine, brown, mpalpable powder t rose and fell ‘n the sk ering heat waves. A group of hery pepper trees, drooping ebove an empty wa *hook their pender tank. languidly eaves, but had not foroe enough to free them from the brown dust that covered them. The scariet cactus nlants had showered their flaming petals upon the ground, their stark dust-begrimed arms throw- ing weird shadows on the mud walls A flock of pigeons were huddied in the Antonio’s door, thelr ir wings hanging beaks wide open oome. Above and over all brooded sul- enly a dun, copper-colored sunm, seem- ingly as loath to shine upon the land as was the land to recelve its rays. tched at full length on the belfry teps was Pedro, the padre's boy, half e shadow, half in the sunlight.® 8o he been there motionless that ard w #leeping on his ndf hat the hot flesh integral part of the hot ng hs ar sleep, neither was he lent, half open eyes ng for the shadow of the and de the belfr shadow appeared It e to ring the bell that of natives from their vels to worship on the » mission chancel. This - t r of the day that Pedro th ew nor cared that that it sent forth, JsarTing, tuneless ¥ that it was nolse, ermissible noise and this he loved, too, his own im- n the act. Was it not he that lagging worshipers? If the dell could even A nio, himself, call his congre- services in the mis- was not & ked valley, & 4 he = to hear t even while the Indolent, half- eyes watched for the shadow of cross they rested with indolent, half-awakened curiosity om a spot far out under the eaves. It was not a long lizard Pedro knew all the les about and mot one of was that color. It wes not & but- y caught in the leathern thongs beld the beams, not a blossom blown there by the wind, not & red- winged blackbird resting from its labor of mercy. Suddenly a long, red tongue flashed high into the air and Pedro knew that it was fire! Fire under the eaves! Fire bursting from the roof of the sacristyl Fire enveloping the wooden joists! Fire and not & drop of water! Fire and no one but Father Antonlo and him to fight 1it! Ah! But he, be could summon them, those others! Not slowly, languidly to worship, but hurriedly, quickly, In haste, to save the mission! The bell rope hung by his =ide and he pulled it, as the padre clashing and crimson zards for mi not slowly, methodical had taught him, but clanging the iron tongue agalnst the bronse sides of the bell. 1 In Bis ocall Padre Antonio had been knesling almost as motionless as Pedro on the belfry steps, almost as unmind- ful of the passing day. But his thoughts were Dot idie. He was waging & mad, wordless battle with Fate, reviewing the long resultiess years, rebelling aguinst the long empty years to come. In his comsecration to the church he bad &reamed of place and power, place among people, power in the world. And bhe had found *only isolagion and ob- livion, only & score of Indian worship- ers, with two score Indian boys. It was & one-sided battle, fought for the thousandth time, and Fate would win &s she always had The shadow of the belfry cross was creeping slowly down the belfry roof. Padre Antonio knew that he soon would bear the bell that would summon his ngregation. Even before he heard its und his nerves shivered in anticipa- tion of its cracked, harsh note, even before he saw the congregation his soul withdrew from the empty, sordid faces would find there. If he had made ut one step of progress! If he could see one glimmer of consciousness of aught else save gratitude for creat- ure comfort! Padre Antonio’s head was bowed low over his desk, when louder, harsher than ever before the bell clanged its discords. A deep groan from the padre’s lips was its echo. For this broken bell had grown to be the ex- pression in his mind of his own broken life. Agein and again in hurried meas- ure the bell clashed and clamored. A N FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL—CHRISTMAS NUMBER. S — AN .s\\). resentful anger burned for a moment in the padre’s heart. Pedro was the one ereature upon earth that the padre loved even as the padre was the only human being to hold all of Pedro's de- votion, And not Pedro, in spite of counsel, in spite of exhortation, in spite of commands, playing with the bell even as he would play with the love the padre had given him? S Blowly the priest rose from his knees, slowly he passed between the long line of empty cells that should have been filled with converts and ever as he walked the bell clashed and crashed. Not until he had entered the chapel itself did he hear the shouts and cries of the Indians as they ran toward the mission, not until he had thrown wide open the chapel doors did he realize + | G (Copyright, 1808, by T. C. MoClure) URANT lay in his chalr. The three seats next to him were vacant. They were labeled, in or- der, “Mrs. Gabelle,” “M {88 Gabelle” “Miss Busan Ga- Beyond the three chairs came belle.” the chair of an Itallan lady who had & baby. Durant looked across the va- cant seats and saw the baby and blessed the intervening space. The Italian lady thought that he wanted to admire the baby and held it up high on purpose for him to see. But his gaze fled out upon the wide ocean beyond, and he did not recall it until he was ready to open his book and read. In the middle of the afternoon a pretty girl in a red Tam O’'Shanter came up and stood by the rail. Du- rant found himself looking at her over the top of his book and wishing that she might be Miss Gabelle. After a while he had his wish, for she came across and sat down under her name. The Itallan lady was delighted: her baby had cried so hard that a kind- hearted somebody had taken it to walk and left the mother free to en- joy society. Durant had been three chairs away, but Miss Gabelle was only half that distance removed. Mme Italla leaned over and addressed her at once. “She ees sso gooood, mill baybee! Iii neffaarrre haff annny troooble weeez her. All zee laydees looff mii baybeee—all szeee laydees tend mii baybeee!"” Miss Gabelle looked 8o disgusted that the Itallan was disconcerted, and seized the trivial pretext of seeking her Infant to rise from her seat and view life from the lee side. The instant that she was out of sight the young girl sprang from her chair and, hailing & passing steward, “Take these three chairs and oarry them down to the other end of the deck,” she sald, pressing his hand te some purpose,” and de it right off, will you pleass?” She went inside directly she maw him bearing off the first chair, and Durant lost not a minute in detaching himself from his rugs to the end that when the steward returned he might say, with an imitation of the initia- tive proceeding: “Take mine, too” The steward grinned and took his chair, toe. When Miss Gabelle reappeared she looked prettier than ever, and as she at once opened a book and became wholly absorbed in it, Durant decided that the best thing for him to do was to go to sleep with his face turned in her direction, and so be able to look at her all that he wanted to. After & while he decided that she was the prettiest girl that he ever had seen, and that he must know her somehow. Presently she closed her eyes and soon after her fingers relaxed their hold of the book and that slipped onto the deck. He vaulted over Mrs. Gabelle's chair, and, picking the book up, smoothed the leaves carefully and lald it back on her lap. But she did not thank him or pay the slightest atten- tion to his polite action. There are naps on deck and naps on deck, and Miss Gabelle had not gone to sleep with her face turned in Durant’s di- rection. ‘When the first gong for dinner sounded she woke up with a start and flew below so quickly that he only had —==) 11 [} \«,»,\\%\\% {THE PADRE FELL ON HIS KNEES AND IN THE INCENSE OF HIS OWN BURNING ALTAR HIS PRAYERS FLOATED UPWARDS' that there was unusual commetion. ‘With the draft of the opening doors rushed a cloud of smoke, downpouring from the eaves. Following close upon the smoke came licking, greedy flames. One hurried glance at the burning thatch of the roof told the padre that the mission was doomed, for not a drop of water was there in the mission tanks. Turning back into the chapel, T By Anna Warner T +* time to realise that she was going ‘when she was gone. The next morning he found her chaired and booked when he got up there himself. The wind had changed and was coming around the corner by the smoking-room in & very trying manner, but he hardly noticed that in his tangled ‘emotions over her prox- imity and distance. Bhe noticed it, though, and strove ia vain to adjust a bit of embroidered coat collar so as to shut off a growing gale. Her efforts proving futile, she summoned & sailor who was busy lash- ing something to something else, and, opening her purse: ‘Please carry these three chairs out of the wind,” she sald, smiling on him, and then she went inside. The sallor grabbed two chairs and ‘clumped away at & gait demanded by the exigencies of the situation. Durant meanwhile extricated himself from his rugs with a sprightliness to be envied by the rheumatic and para- lyzed, and was up and waiting when the emissary of fate returned. “Here, take my chalr, too,” he said to the man, smiling on him in the stupid way that men reserve for other men. The saiflor grinned the omnis- clent grin' that deckhands acquire, pocketed his fee, and the last two chairs went away together in as friend- ly a manner as the first two had done. After lunch Miss Gabelle occupled her chair and, for the first time, did Durant the honor of noticing his existence by becoming slightly pink when she ob- served him there in his chair the same as ever., Later Miss Susan Gabells, ne hurrfed toward the altar. Perhaps it might be vouchsafed him to save some of the holy emblems there! Per- haps it might be vouchsafed him to die at the foot of the cross. Only half way to the altar had he gone when the roof of the sacristy fell. An overwhelming, dense mass of smoke filled the chapel. The padre fell on his knes and in the incense of his own burning altar his HIS VICTORY AT SEA ‘who appeared to be the other's malden great-aunt, hove on deck and reciined beside her niecs for nearly seven whole minutes. At the end of that time a sudden roll of the steamer did her up with great abruptness; she became viv- {dly green, howled pitifully, and the deck steward rushed to the rescue and bore her hastily away. Durant, who was burning to be of some use to the family to the end that he might merit gratitude and an introduction, sprang to the deck steward's assistance and started to bear up the tralling extrem- ities of his load, but Miss Susan Ga- belle yelled, “Don’t turn me upside down for pity’s sake!” and he had to drop her feet as if they scorched his hands. But he was richly rewarded for his effort, for the niece became freshly pink, smiled and remarked something about the weather, a specles of conver- sational opening through which, on shipboard, men fall frequently and lose themselves forever. It came on to blow ‘worse soon, and one terrific gust turned their plaids into distress signals and caused the deck steward, who was whirling about just then distributing cakes and tea as If he was a new spe- cles of revolving dumb-waiter, to sug- gest that they would be much more comfortable upon the other side. “I think so, too,” said Miss Gabelle. “After you are through with the tea won't you take our three chalirs around there?” “Gewiss!” said the man, and spun away. Miss Gabelle drank her tea with great breeziness, so to speak, and then went below to see how her aunt was surviving. Bhe smiled on Durant as she passed and hope foamed high on the surf of his heart waves. When the prayers floated upward. 1L Tt was days, weeks, before he came to Rimeelf, before he could hear the stotry of his rescue. Then Pedro told him glowly, a little at a time, how the In- dians gathered together in front of the chapel, had seen him turn back into the church; how they had massed them- selves, fought their way to the spot where the beloved father lay and car- ried him out. * Days later, when the bandanges were removed from the padre’s eyes, the first thing he saw was a Madonna that had hung above the altar. Blackened and marred, the frame no longer held the picture, but the holy Mother’s steadfast eyes looked down upon him as calmly and serenely from the walls of the Indian hovel as ever thuy had trom the altar of his chapel. Unaer the ~fcture on a rough shelf stood & golden halice. The padre’s eyes filled, and Pedro, panding near the cot on which the priest lay, saw the tears, and softly wiped them away before he spoke. “It was all that I could save, mie padre. You had told me that you loved the plcture, no? The cross is but this bit of metal.”” He held out a dark mass of melted lead and gold. “But the ple- ture will make a new altar. We can. build a new altar for the blessed moth- er and her child.” Padre Antonio did not answer, and Pedro went on. “The bell I might have saved, but I rang it and rang it until I could stay in the belfry no longer. It has fallen under all the tower. They may dig it out,. though. It may still ring.” Antonio groaned aloud, and Pedre wondered if the father's love for the bell was even greater than his lova for the golden altar cross. He had not groaned when he saw that the cross was destroyed. V. The ruins lay just as the flames had left them until Padre Antonio was strong enough to superintend their re- moval, to build again from the very beginning a new chapel, & new sac- risty, new cloisters, new dormitories. All had been destroyed, utterly and ab- solutely. But the reconstruction of the mission was not the first work to which Father Antonio turned. He devoted days to & letter to his superior in Spain, begging for rellef, begging for release. And not untfl & courier had been dispatched down the coast with this appeal could Antonlo give his attention to a new mission. With every beam that was raised, with every brick that was lald, a prayer was raised, a prayer was hid that he might be bullding for his sue- cessor, not for himself. Impatiently he waited for his answer, so impatiently that all his duties were only irksome detalls of the day; and as the time came near when hé might confidently expect his letter the days themselves were mere fragments of time piled one upon another. V. Christmas came that year born In & dawn of silver and blue, a silver fog lying low under a lmpid azure sky. steward came for the chairs it was in a voios of the utmost assurance that he was bidden: “Take mine, too.” ‘When Miss Gabelle came back she seemed not at all surprised at seeing him still one of their party. She even smiled again when he sprang up to in- stall her among her wraps. And then ‘when she was Intrenched in her castle of pillow and plaid he boldly occupied the neighboring territory and as the powers in her case were otherwise en- saged no one entered a protest. And then they talked. How they did talk! Only a seafarer knows how far into & heart-to-heart conversation two may progress by the third day out! To make matters more agreeable, the wind freshened so that even upon the shel- tered side a pretty girl required contin- uous and solicitous retucking. Toward night it began to rain. “I think that we must move again.” Durant suggested, with a heavy accent on the “we.” “Dear me, so we must,” she an- swered, bezinning to prepare to rise. He sprang to her ald: he extricated her from her rugs: he halled a deck- hand and he pointed out his work to him. “Take those four chairs out of the wet,” he told him in such a tone as Nelson used at Trafalgar. “He'll have them all ready when we come up after dinner,” he added to Miss Gabelle. She smiled sweetly. “I'm so glad to have met you,” she sald as they went Inside (together this time). “I've been dreading such a long, lonely voyage.” Durant looked down at her and she looked up at him. They both smiled and she blushed. Is it necessary to say more? Try and guess the outcome. But there was no Christmas jov In Padre Antonlo's heart. His superior's letter lay before him and it offered no release—no return to the world of place and power. _ “That you have my sympathy, be- lleve me, my dear son,” the latter ran, “but I know that in refusing you your request I am granting you your desire. You tell me that you have won no souls to your church. Have you won them to yourself? Have you thought of the limitations of the people you are work- ing for} Have you thought of their lives and opportunities? Win them to you through love. Then win them to the church through the same love. For love is supreme. Love is all powerful. Love reigns over all human life and passion.” There were pages of close, fine writing—pages that seemed to An- tonio like senseless platitudes, and the letter ended with the words: am not writing to you as your superior. I have not placed your application with the church authorities. I am writing to you as if you.were my own son, to shield you from a lifetime of regret for & duty shirked.” The letter lay on the padre’s knees as he sat In the door of his hut looking down toward the new mission buflding. It was nearly finished; already its soft, creamy walls rose high and straight; already the arches were supporting patches of thatched roof. Here and there on the ground squatted groups of brown figures, all looking more or less indolently at the result of their labors. But of what use was any of 1t? What did any of them gain from 1t? What daid It mean to any of them except easy flour, easy warmth, easy existence? As these bitter thoughts were passing through the padre's mind he saw that the groups of figures were rising to thelr feet—that they were gathering to- gether In one mass, that they were coming toward him. He glanced at the shadows to see if it was already time for the morning service, but it was not, and a faint wonder crossed his mind. Had they some request to make of him? Extra fruit, extra flour, extra wine? Pedro led them, but he did not speak until all were gathered about the pa- dre. Then, acting as Interpreter and spokesman for the others, he ex- plained. The padre had told them that In some places, on Christmas day, friends gave presents to each other; the padre had told them that when the Christ- child was born all brought presents to him. Now, that the new chapel was 50 nearly finished, was it not right that they should bring gifts to the chapel? But because they loved the padre they wanted first to give gifts to him that he might give them to the church. Blowly, one by one, the Indlans brought their offerings and laid them at the padre’s feet; a rough cross, carved from a madrone tree; & prayer desk, cut from the same wood; & foot- stool and candlesticks, all shaped with infinite patience; white cloths for the altar, coarse and rough, but woven and interwoven with love. Something each one brought, each one save Pedro, and Pedro himself had disappearsd from the group. For Pedro had found the bell not only uninjured, but made perfect and whole in the flerce flames that had an- nealed the crack In its bronze side, and Pedro’s gift to the padre, Pedro’s gift to the chapel was the bell that, quite unknown to the padre, had been hung in the belfry tower. Overcome by his own emotion, Padre Antonfo stood sflent for a moment. Had not love won? Was not love tri- umphant? Was it not their love for him that made them rescue him from the burning church? Was it not their love for him that made them bring their offerings to the new mission? Would it be hard to bring them, through this love, to the loving heart of the church? He raised his hand to give them the blessing of the church before he spoke his own personal words when sudden- ly, floating down from the new beifry tower came a note clear, pure, sweet and true. Tenderly, softly it called, again and again, symbolizing the love that had answered the padre's prayers not in his own way, but in the way of the Father whom he served. e P —— . Various Kinds of Grafters. Phonografter—A grafter who tells everybody the same thing and Reeps all the money. Telegraftar—A grafter who depends upon his knowledge of the wires, and rarely takes anything “collect.” Paragrafter—A grafter who confines himself to two or ghree lines, Cinematografter — A grafter who works with a screen and gives you a poor explanation of the things he shows you. Autografter—A grafter who thinks you ought to come to the center as soon as you hear his name. Aerografter—A grafter who uses lots of air—hot alr.