The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, May 8, 1904, Page 7

ALBERT SONNIC HSEN the memory e parts be open t who knew - wer are ¢ » & ose gqualities of howed himseilf then, it must be . When t raised Billy to &utocratic he—but let me begin my its proper chronelegical o General 1 advance against he norther ision of the insurgent ways be remem- red as pered 1 a firy usual in t of conque and keen sense of sonquered forev hesrts of the o fought him. This khas nothing in g rticular to do t Lawton hern an g k certain share of the t time Billy was such that the children solemn and bble bananas and tufts their little brown hands. commander might be mportant consultation , when sud- uld spy a group of the street, ‘and ampaign plans interrupted by 1self earried off crowd of juve- ace g & very his aids old Bill ren coming 1 the d the. generil fi into the approach niles. When General Lawton was recalled to Manila and Young continued the udvance, it was found inadvisable to take Billy back to the coast for two reason; First, the general must re- turn railway, and there were no which to carry Billy, and ¥’s period of active field work was nearly at an end. Already well on in years, the vigorous campaign through' tropical swamps and jungles had taken the remaining elasticity out of hie old limbs. So it was decided to Jet hirh go on with Young's Third Cay- y as a sort of camp follower. of by Lawton bade old Billy a £00d-by ailroad static good care of him sergeant last weo Thus Billy ambled along in the wake of the advancing ar sbling her the n, but alv g and evenir wa be- up when barley ra- ere by ed out. In this way he d v where Young estab- shed his permanent héadquarters as military G T of th northern provinces. Some months a news of Lawton’s de For days the and some of the this came the at San Matdo, half-masted t leaders even sent in notes of 1y There way genuine mour ov the land In Vigan esr ally the sorrow was deep, for the men there had fought under Lawton. Their thoughts turned toward old Billy, wjo had carriéd their dead leader thirough the worst cam- paign of the war. They untied him from the picket line d led him out into the plaz and there gave him an hoporable discharge from active ser- vice, to come and go as he might please about the town, on Government pen- sion. Billy looked a bit bewildered at first, but presently started off to ex- plore the streets, and as he passed the men took off their well-worn campaign hats. After that you could see hiin wan- dering in a day dream along the nar- row streets of Vigan or in the adjacent fields, sometimes stopping to browse in an abstracted sort of way; coming and going when and where he chose, like the sacred oxen of Benares At first Billy retained his simple, modest bearing. He rubbed noses with his old comrades In the ranks and vis- ited the picket lines dally. He stil greeted all comers in his old spirit of democratic good fellowship, from the general down to the latest recruit in the rear ranks, But there came-a change. Gradually it dawned on Billy's ponderous iptellect that he had become pretty much of a big gun, that he wasn't’an ordinary plug to be met with any day, and he decided to stand up for his social rank. He began by refusing to mess with the other horses. In this he gained hie point. The men made the mistake of submitting at once, and thus irre- vocably bound themselves down to the rulings of his tyrant will. They gave him a separate feed stall. 3 Then he insisted on green grass, mixed with oats, twice a day, and again the boys bowed to his will. Thence- forth a detail of men had to hustle feed for Billy daily. Thus he hdd them in his grip. After that they had to humor his every whim. v It was not long before Billy made himself obnoxious to Americans and natives alike. One morning he stalked «THE SAN FRA into Company néss quarters just at me i he bovs tried to per- suade him that he had got into the wrong place, but Billy obstinately re- fuged to take that point of view fact, he got indignant, espec when he ncse. about the big dron of hot soup, whi thereby =plit half the 5 the floor. lle ended up by flopping down on a cou of which plintered beneath his weight like matchboxes. Whan he finally depart- much disgusted. he left behind 1 week's fob of revairing. The natives made their first mistake in offering Billy bits of brown sugar and tufts of choice turnip leav Finally he grew to consider thes: dainties as his just dues, and when they were not forthcomir the mo- ment he wanted them he did not hesi- e to walk in‘o the stores and help agar and turnips, himself, not onl but to any other stock on hand that pleased his fancy. 1f you kept tore built of light bamboo you ‘ould not like a big cavalry horse to come in and walk about the place, npling ypur goods The native shonkeeners objected, but Billy never ¢onsidersd their feelings. He did as he pleased, and if the door was too &mall he dida’t mind widen- ing it a bit with his big shoulders. It was no rare sight to see Billy's huge hindquarters protruding out of some shack, his body corking up the door, his head and shoulders lost In the in- terior, and his tail switching about contentedly as he helped himself in- side. You would know by the row within that the owner was objecting, but that made no difference. This sort of thing scon became so bad that whenever Billy was seen ap- proaching there would be a general scramble among the storekeepers to barricade their doors and business would be suspended until he had safe- ly passed. 5 Only the children regarded Billy at all favorably. Sometimes you could see the old chap stretched out under the shade of a spreading mango tree, with a dozen or more little brown tots scrambling over his scraggy flank. Oc- caslonally he would raise his head as though in protest. “Look here, you scamps,” you might fancy him saying, “don’t be too rough or I'll roll over on you. Hey, there, you little black imp, leave my tail alone; it wasn't built for you to pull. Here, get away from my mane. I want to sleep, and how can I with you walk- ing all over me?” o “Whereupon he would sport flercely, as though contemplating sanguinary vengeance, but it always ended in his sinking back with a helpless blink of his eyes. Thus Billy passed the time In Vigan, \ tyrannizing all.with whom he came in contact, until one day there occurred the crownfng event’ of his life.s Some are inclined, from a political point of view, to regard it as a lasting stain upon his honc They contend that as an American born, as a protege of the Government, Billy should have con- fined his most intimate friendships among his own people. At least, he should not have formed the attach- nient of his life with one of the people at war with his country But Billy wus toc broad iainded to allow wars to interfere witly his friendships. At any rate, he began by striking up an acquaintance with Perico de la Cruz the ten,year-old son of a lieutenant in active gervice in the enemy’s ranks. Perico’s mother lived alone in a small nipa hut in the outskirts of the town. Her hut was constantly ‘under the surveillance of Government spies, it being suspected that the insurgent officer was haying too frequent com- munication with Innocent of these dark su that hung over his home, Perico played in the adjacent fields of zacate. Now Billy was especially fond of zacate, and he sogn learned that the best of its kind grew about Perico’s house, so he paid the place frequent ts. Thus he first met Perico. Kvidently the two found each other congenial spirits, for after that they got to be seen together more and more, not only in the fields of zacate, but about the streets. As I have said, dark mutterings of disap- proval, perhaps not untainted by a spirit of jealousy, arose among the less liberal Americans. It didn't;look well, they said. But Billy was in the height of hig power, 8o he could afford to disregard these protests. This chanee acquaintance soon ripened into deep friendship. Thé twé became inseparable companions. When you saw Perico turn a street corner, you expected Billy, and sure enough he would follow, not far behind. Qr, if you saw Billy’'s head protruding over a fénce you knew where to find Perico. When Perico ate his meals on the steps of his mother's hut, Billy was there munching zacate. They went out for long tramps together, the puny brown boy usually seated on the veteran's broad shoulders and holding his mane. No one since Lawton had dared to do that. The two did pretty much as they pleased — walked through people's fences, over people's vegetable patches, stampeded people’ poultry, and even sauntered over the lawn i front of the general's head- quarters in spite of that great man's somewhat feeble protests. The colonel was the only one who ever rose in active rebellion, but he was ignobly: squelched. He was hold- ing a solemn review of his troops one evening on the parade grounds. All was quiet, and it would have been a most impressive review if old Billy, with Perico on his back, hadn't stalk- ed along just then, passing between the colonel and the line of men at company front. it Is recorded that the colonel swore NCISCO SUNDAY.”CALL. ¢ - ot a great oath. That may have attracted Eilly’s attentfon, for he seemed to 1ecognize the colonel.as an old friend. He went up to him, and the colonel, to ‘saye his dignity, had to retreat to the band stand. 5 . Protest was of no avail. If you spoke to them Perico simply shrugged his shoulders and said “No sabe,” ahnd Billy twirled an ear or winked an eye. There was little satisfaction in that. Then you feit that they chuckled to- gether after you were gone. But tyrants are only mortal. two were no exceptions. One Jay a yellow flag appeared be- fore the house in Vigan in which Peri- These co lived. It was the beginning of the fearful epidemic of smallpox, when half of the fufnilies of the town and province were affected; when the saf- fron rag hung in listless folds before many a hut and house. They said that the insurgent officer had brought the disease in from his camp, where it raged unchecked, on one of his secret visite, The boy Perico tossed deliriously on o bamboo cot while his sad-faced mother nd a faced aunt nursed him. A sentry was siationed to warn people away from the quarantined family. Billy calmly ignored him, and walked to the open window, but it was too high for him to look in. How Billy felt, just how much he missed his little comrade, we never knew, for Billy's long face wore an expression of sorrow habitually, any- how. But there was an atmosphere of painful abstraction about him when he munched his evening allowance of oats. After a few days he cecased to haunt the little hut on the outskirts of the town, and then we thought he had forgotten. He even took up more with other children Iin a gencral sort of way, but not with any one in particu- lar. For a whole week Perico had been gone. Even the American soldiers missed the tiny figure, and when it was reported that Lieutenant de la Cruz had been seen coming into town one evening nobody troubled to re- port the matter to headquarters. It was the eighth day of Perico’s illness. The sentry in front of the hut paced sleepily to and fro, or ‘ thoughtfully contemplated the shade of the near-by mango trees. Sudden- 1y he was startled by a scream inside the house, and the next moment the form of a child shot by him down the street. » i “Stop him! Stop him! Stop him! Senor Americano!” wailed the dis- tracted mother from the door of the hut. But it was too late. With frantic screams and wild gesticulations the delirious Perico ran down the road, naked as he had come into the world, down into the Calle de Santa Ignacla, into the Escolta, the main street, and ‘turned up toward the plaza. Women screamed from win and the sidewalks, men Shouted, but none dared to seize the afflicted boy. Suddenly there was a commotion farther down the Hscolta. The crowd scattered, and through its center old Billy came pelting, answering the boy’s wild shouts with a succession of hoarse whinnies. At the cormer of the Calle del Obispo Perico turned down toward the market, where the street ends, with Billy pounding along not fifty yards behind. Into the mar- ket gates the boy disappeared, causing the wlldest . confusion among the throng of buyers and sellers. The market is a square walled In by stone, with a door on each side of the quad- rangle. The crazed child shot into one gate and out of another, and fell in a fit in the street beyond. Billy burst into the crowded market too late to see where his little com- panion had gone. For a moment he 8tood in Its center under the tiled roof, among the baskets and tables loaded with wares, while the people, American soldiers and Filipino men and women alike, poured out of the four' gates. o Just what passed through Billy's equine intellect at that moment will never be known, but evidently he hastily concluded that they were hid- ing Perico from him behind some of the baskets or stalls. He began a systematic search, overturning and crushing earthenware jars, baskets of eggs and fruits, bamboo joints of milk and racks of dry goods. The venders had sense enough to get out and leave their possessions to fate. Billy had the entire market to himself; frantic- ally he pounded around and flound- ered about among the obstacles. Suddenly he paused. Above the roar of the crowd outside he heard the de- lirious cries of the child he loved. He stood still, his ears pricked up, his nostrils dilated, quivering. Then he made a swift turn toward the eastern gate, whence came the cries. In doing s0 he upset and burst a large earthen- ware jar of cocoanut oil, which spread over the brick pavement. Billy's hoofs £lid, he slipped, fought desperately to recover his footing, but fell, rolling heavily against a big stone pillar. With frantic screams he tried to rise, but again he fell helplessly back. There remains little more to be told. THE LORE The sergeant or Squadron A was de- tailed to put him out of his misery. The soldier's bare, brawny arm quive ered a trifle before he fired. All that afternoon the dead veteran lay in the market square while all Vigan—soldiers, merchants, officers and privates, women and children—passed by to take a last look at his familiar figure. That night the full moon's beams straggled through the broken tlles of the roof and flecked the old market place. Only the dark, vague heap in the center remained in shadow, and about it stood a circle of children— quiet, motionless, furtively clasping each other’s hands, Those who have been in the Philip- pines will never forget the chant of the sorrowful. The singer Improvises a line, which he half speaks, half sings, beginning low and rising until the last word is lost in a long drawn out wall. Then comes a pause of almost half & minute, and the next line begins. Thus did Bllly’s former playmates chant a dirge for him. A boy of 18 composed the lines and the rest jained in the wall. The lnes he improvised in the native Ilocano dlalect, when translafed, went something like this: “Good-by/) Billes, oh, good-by, oh, Blllee, oh 0-0-0-0-0h-0-0-0-0— In the spirit land the great General Americano oh-0-0-0-0-O-oh-0-0 0-0-0-0— Shall ride you again; oh, Billes, ah, 0-0-0-0-0-0h-0-0-0-0— And Perico shall give you sugar thers, oh, Billee, oh-0-0-0-0-O-0-0-0~ . 00— Perico has gone there, too, oh, Billes, 0h-0-0-0-0-0-0h~0-0-0-0— Good-by, Billee, oh, good-by, oh, 4 Billee, 0h-0-0-0-0-0-0h-0-0-0-0-0—* (Copyright, 1904, by Albert Sonnichsen.) OF SHOES | “Speaking of shoes,” said the man on the corner to the other man, whe had nothing much to do, as a demure little woman passed by, modestly a1§- playing a pair of feet.particularly well dressed, “In all my travels I have never seen so many pretty, well shod feet as in San Francisco. I am in- terested in shoes—have to be, as I have a corn or two—but I do wonder with all these hills and cobblestones how the women manage to ,"“ so apparently comfortably such’ dainty footgear. “I was greatly interested in the collection I saw at the Cluny Museum, left the French people by the famous French engraver, Jules Jacquemart, who had a curious passion for col- lecting boots and shoes of all coun- tries—in fact, made this collection a life work. The collection embraces no less than 310 specimens, represent- ing all races and climes. “In medieval times shoes were very criide and simple, consisting of mere- 1y soles fastened to the feet by thongs, a strap which passed between the toes and around the ankle. The ma- terial chiefly employed in the man- ufacture, of shoes from the earliest time to the present has been leather, though stuffs of various kinds and colors have entered into their compo- sition. The sandals worn by the priests of ancient Egypt were gener- ally made of palm and papyrus leaves fastened together. Such were the shoes probably worn by Rhodope, the Cinderella of the Nile, who was said to have had the loveliest foot in all Egypt. One day, while taking her bath, an eagle swooped down from the sky and carried off her sandal. She watched the eagle until he disappeared in the distance. After a time he let the sandal drop it fell at the feet of the King, who was so charmed with its beauty and daintiness that he commanded a search be made for its owner. Rhodope was soon discovered and shortly became the Queen of Egypt. “In Venice we find that the custom in olden times was to have the shoes of the women mounted very high, making walking as difficult as pos- sible. By this means jealous husbands thought to keep their wives at homsa, but the plan was not altogether suc- cessful, I understand. “To Persia is due the credit of in~ troducing sandals with heels. The men wore sandals which rested on blocks of wood. From these the idea was taken which led to the addition of the heel. From 1550 to 1750 the subject of footgear was very promi- nent, many, to the present sensible mind, foolish extravagances being in- dulged in. Cardinal Wolsey is said to have worn shoes worth £30,000, and John Spencer wore at his wedding a pair worth £4000. During the latter part of the seventeenth century shoes began to assume the shape and style of the present day. “About 1800 an Englishman con- ceived the idea of making rights apd lefts. Previous to this time shobs were made exactly alike, worn with ecual comfort or discomfort on either foot. “But, after all, what matters if the shoe be of wood or silk. satin or leather; it remains for the wearer, like the Wandering Jew, to leave his or her mark upon the century in which they live. So let us see to it that when departing we leave worthy footprints on the sands of time.”