The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, May 15, 1904, Page 6

THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. YLBERT SOVNICIHSEN. approval Com- en Duck was quite an chap. That official part of with sort of about what he who was post object- If the major, San Ildefonso, iloquies outside b window during the midday siesta, jifference to Duck. the tree, just outside on mango big ellow head to 's silence, n let loose that X s, which £ Then the x row d lose his ¢ at Duck and Duck W | up a few more mbs, ¢ £ f the major’s mis- to the major for heavy penalties in the can’t But you green par- big, ugly y yellow and partly from some could s t with all t was equally abit from the » bought him from , Manila and brought the is: d outpost where was stationed. The re- and died of horrors t made a will Duck . d been kept confined chain attached by one d by the other to a th of Duck’s master :d the bird’s release, take to the jungle. d white man’s k to the boys, roosting at » a bamboo pole in the barrack m. The boys supplied him ts of desirable food, and he, in d them with choice com- ments on current events of garrison life. As a conversationist, although somewhat profane at times, Duck's en hard to find. return, reg equal would ha “Tell ye what,” remarked Corporal Hill, as the men were lounging about on their cots one hot afternoon, “this yere Duck's a pretty smart bird. Durned if he t pick up Tagalog and Spanish quicker'n you humans, = There was Jose, as used to be usin’ words to didn't understand and never could remember long enough to ask somebody what knowed what they meant. What does Duck do but memo- rize them. Yesterday the priest comes in an’ Duck gets off Jose's little pet phrase. The priest looks at me, and says, “Who learned him that? ‘Jose, I reckon,’ says I. Wall, he called up Jose and gave him such & rakin’ over as he won't forget soon. What ye think? The le beast had been callin’ us something so bad that ye can't find words in English mean enough to ex- press it. Tell ye what, Duck’'s all right” us we “You bet he's all right,” agreed a big Dakotan. “You won’t let no cuss- ed goo-goo do us dirt, will you,. Duck?” He looked languidly up at character—he @ithe big green bird perched on his fa- vorite pole and cdnscientiously gnaw- ing the last shred of meat from a chick: He held it in one gnarled foot as a man would a club. The Dakotan’s words seemed to at- s leg bone. tract his attention He suspended operations on the bone and turned h low head to oné€ side That’s right,” responded the Da- admiringly. “Ye see, he's abe. Yer all right, Duck.” “You bet,” persisted Duck, in a louder tone. “Ye that's what I sa agreed the soldier. “Yer bet yer life. Yer all righ “You bet,” said the parrot. It was some days after that a ser- and fifteen men were detailed to convoy four carreton loads of com- missary supplies to the next post, San Quintin, twenty miles still farther into the heart of the mountains. The four ox-carts, with their four earabao stood waiting the order to start. The men were lined up and the sergeant stood at attention while the first lieutenant gave him his or- ders. “You must try to make it before dark, sergeant, and don’t let any of your men wander off into the brush. Keep them all together.” The sergeant saluted. By the lieutenant’s side stood a small, sallow-faced native, in white duck. A black band about his broad-brimmed that bore the insription, “Jefe de Po- licia,” which meant that he bossed the local native constabulary by consent of powers in office. You feel certain Tino isn’t about, do gean drivers, you, Ramirez?” the lleutenant asked. . “Most certain-lee,” assured the chief of police, complacently. “He is now in Cagay “What?” broke out a harsh, deep voice The native started. The line of sol- diers chuckled. “Damn_that parrot,” lieutenant, swinging carts. Duck was per on one of the loads. 1 hope you lose that beast on the way,” said the officer, testi * Haw — haw haw —< haw came Duck’s notcrious laugh. Then, with an angry rufile of feathers, he cocked his head > “Ye lie!” he shouted. “Go ahead, sergeant,”” ordered the lieutenant, ignoring the parrot’s insult- ing remarks. The carts creaked and rolled out on the road, the men formed ¢ either side. Duck stack to his perch, and as long as he remained within earshot of tHe lleutenant and the native official they could hear his dis- cordant reiteration of his last remark: “Ye lie—ye lie—ye lie!” All morning the cart \ aeels creaked, the carabaos groaned, the drivers swore, and fifteen men in khaki trous- ers and blue shirts tramped on under a hot, metallic sun, while Dnck alter- nately swore and cheered them with endearing names. “Come on, fellers,” said the sergeant, encouragingly, “let’s get a move on. On the other side of the pass is a barrio, where we can get some chow an’ drink. Then we'll have only six miles left.” exclaimed the around® to the d comfortably The road passed through a gap, on either side of which rose steep hills. thickly wooded. A small river shared the pass with the road. The drivers halted their oxen, unhitched them and allowed them their necessary wallow in the cool water. The men stretched along the bank, some drinking, some filling and cooling their hot canteens. Suddenly a gun report broke the quiet. There was a hot spat on the stone upon which the sergeant had been sitting. He sprang up with a yell; his commands were drowned in a sharp, crackling volley up the hillside, and three blue-shirted men fell among the bowlders. In an instant the sol- diers, springing behind carts and rocks, were firing into the jungle. The native drivers ran in panic. down the road; one fell squirming and shrieking in the dust. A avild chorus of yells and cheers burst out from the dense thickets; then a mob of small, brown, ragged men came swarming out down the road. The shots died out—the fight was hand to hand. There were yells, curses, blows, shrieks, then the uproar fell to a babel of excited words. The fighting was over—ten American soldiers stood disarmed among a band of excited Fil- ipinos. When the excitement cooled down the leader of the natives counted his fallen, and as they numbered only three he felt.in very good humor. Three Americans were dead, two seriously wounded. The dead were thrown into the river, whose currents were deep and swift enough to carry them beyond discovery. The carabaos were quickly harnessed to the carretons, and, escorted by the exultant natives, the ten prisoners fol- lowed the carts up a narrow byroaf, switching into the jungle and up the meuntain, When well away from the main road, the carts were again halted. Their contents’ were quickly unloaded and transferred to the backs .of na- tives. Then began the march upward by trail and through jungle. Finally a small plateau of the moun- tain was reached, where stood a dozen bamboo huts. Beyond a thick fringe of bambaps rose the old relic of Span- ish ecclesiastical -authority—a ' large stone church “and its adjoining' con- vent. ‘Toward this the prisoners were marched. Disconsolate, sullen, they stood in a row before the convent door, ten Americans and two natives, the latter carabao driyers, while the guer- rilla chief inspected them with trium- phant satisfaction. As the Tagalog striitted up and down befdre ‘his . prisoners, he was startled by a flap—a big green parrot alighted on the railing before tne convent gate. It was Duck. It was an even guess who looked most astonished, the Fili- pino chief, the prisoners or Duck him- self. His orange-rimmed eyes were wide open, his head was cocked first to one side then to the other, and there may have been some vague psy- chological association between. aston- ishment and the words he uttered: “Well, I'll be damned!” Even the pompous chief joined in the laugh which followed. Duck slid ' HOW TO SUCCEED, TH IS name was Andrew, but he didn’t seem to be able to con- nect for all that. Names are all very well in their way, but sometimes they are too much in the way. That was the case with Andrew. His middle name began with a C, but that is a subject into which it is not necessary to enter. There’s no use in rubbing it in. The whole sum and sub- stance of the matter was that he was constantly being reported among the also rans, if he was fortunate enough to get away from the post at all. He was designed originally for the busy world of business, but some one had blundered in the original designs and the result was that Andrew had abou: as much business ability as a four- months-old baby in the Congo Free State. His idea of the way modern business was conducted was that the captain of icdustry sat at a rolitop desk in the shadow of a pure Havana and sent out orders to buy steel and sell stock, oc- casionally reversing the process as oc- casion or the nearness of the Presi- dential election demanded. This theory contains & germ of truth to the extent that there are a few men whose par- ticipation in the manufacture of stee! end other necessaries of life is com- prised in one or the other of these two activities. What Andrew fell down on was the fact that the way to the rolltop desk and the clear Havana lies over the top of the scrap heap. That was where Andrew stopped and where he was usually found the morning after. Then he decided to have a try at the law. It seemed easy, but he was des- tined to discover that it was the clients and not the profession that are easy. A lawyer is about the hardest proposi- tion that a poor man ever stacked up against. Andrew's idea was that the only equipment necessary for the noble pursuit of Blackstone was an imposing array of digests and reports bound in half calf and a habit of standing with one foot on the lower rung of the chair and looking at the ceiling whenever he ‘was talking to any one. At least that seemed to him to be about all that the majority of lawyers do business with. When he butted into the inner ring he found that he had been basely de- ceived. While it is true thgt a lawyer doesn’t need to know an Injurious amount of law he needs to be aware of a lot of things that are incidenta] to the law itself. For instance, he needs to know just how near the edge a man can go without being pushed over. For the performance of this feat it is nec- essary to know not so much what the law is as what it is not. Also, he must Gk ' — e but not to hold a dozen prisoners comfortably; and the Anglo-Saxon temperament does not chime in with prison walls. Corporal Hill especially took his misfortune to heart. While the others sat gloomily on the floor, with their backs against the brick walls and their eyes moodily regard- ing the sky beyond their barred win- dows, he paced® restlessly up and down.the earth floor, swearing. Not so Jose, one of the native drivers. He coiled himself by the door, closed his eyes and listened to the guards, who talked outside the door. They had believed him an Ilocano, but he wasn't. He understood Tagalog. Then one evening he whispered with his fellow captives. “You see,” he said, ‘“‘dees not ‘in- surrectos’—no—not by a good dead. Dees chumps ees ladrones—what you call—tief—robbers. Dees place, San Miguel, is high up an’ not easy to get off. Shut up!” “Yer loco, Hill,” repeated Duck, .gravely, from his perch on a window sill. One day Jose whispered again: “Ramirez—de jefe de policia, you sabe?—he put up job. Dese ladrone captain ees brother to Ramirez. Sabe? Ofeecially—what you call—he is Pres- ident of San Miguel. He get—what you call—tip—get put wise—from dees Ramirez—see? Some day Ra- mirez will come here wid police— have sham battle—we will be rescue— much noise, holler, much credit Ra- mirez—poor insurrectos get blame. Den RamireZ an’ his brother wink. Sabe 7" The day became weeks, still Jose's prophecy did not come true. The cap- tives grew lean and white and hag- gard, and Hill raved at times, with the vehemence of a madman. On day the presidente, or “chief of ort the rail to Corporal Hill's hand, and when the prisoners entered the big iron-barred cell in the convent Duck went with them. A room thirty feet by twelve may be large enough for, some purposes, at. Here dey lif—no can see.” Jose curled up by the door again. whiles Hill raved up and down. ladrone,” “Damn these ladrones! We're in hell, . all. right, corraled up.here on this blasted mountain. Hooray for hell an’ San Miguel!” “Shut up, Hill!"" growled the ser- geant. “Ye loco, Hill; ver noodle’s them a visit. with pompous complacency. Fable for the Foolish | be able to lay out a ‘contract in such a manner that no one can tell what it means and afterward to demonstrate that it means something entirely dif- ferent from what every one supposed. The only thing that Andrew was right on was the supposition that a lawyer's principal occupation is charging, but in ‘his active practice he never seemed to be able to get that far. In despair of ever {lluminating the' legal profession perceptibly, Andrew decided that he was cut out for the practice of medicine. That bore all the earmarks of an easy graft and that was what he was looking for. All that a disciple of Esculapius had to do, ac- cording to Andrew’s preconception, was to fit out a reception room with half a dozen chairs, which would give the patients Jumbago at the very least if they ever tried to sit in them, and a bunch of magazines three months old. His part was to sit in the cubby hole at the back and ask people what they liked to eat. Then he would tell them to give it up and take a little of the powder after each meal. The powder was to keep them from finding out that there wasn't anything the matter with them. There may be elements of truth in the picture of the noble art of healing that Andrew drew in his mind, but he didn’t fill it in enough. The first day out of the medical college, where he had learned the names of most of the, component parts of the human frame divine and could take the said frame to pieces and put it together again without leaving out more than half ‘of the works, he ran up against a case that put him out of court without a chance for a rehearing. A portly dame with an enlarged appetite called him In to straighten out the kinks in her head after a simple little supper with fre- quent vinous appendages. The embry- onic doctor, being new to the business, advised bromo seltzer and cracked ice. The dame had called him because she had thought that she could count on a beginner being diplomatic. 0ld doctors sometimes tell the truth in moments of desperation, and, just to see If they have forgotten the formula, Andrew’s practice departed on a protracted jour- ney up the flume at that particular mo- ment. Then and there he learned the sad truth that the principal business of a doctor is to tell people they have one thing and treat them for something -+ else. Only millionaires and corporations can afford to tell the brutal truth to their customers. Andrew’s future was now obscured by a large and lowering cloud. He had tried everything in sight but Journalism, and that was out of the question, because he objected to working for a living. What he want- ed was a place where he could rest between meals and make out bills af- ter supper till he got sleepy. At this point some alleged friend told him that the ministry was just the place for him and pointed out the tremen- dous salaries that ministers receive for preaching once a week and drink- ing tea and reading poetry to the la- dles of the church between times. In sheer desperation Andrew butted in. By dint of unusual exertion he man- aged to drag himself through a theo- logical seminary. He could spell out a little Greek with the aid of a dic- tionary, and could even recognize a small amount of Hebrew if he ex- amined it closely, and what he didn’t know thought about the destructive effects of higher criticism wouldn't have made even a yhn} in a political plat- form. It’there is anything smaller about what somebody else . as Jose called him, paid He inspected the cell Finally he came to Duck, seated on a window sill and quietly arranging his wing feathers. The men saw.the presidents reach out his fat black hand, then they heard a yell. The commotion which ' followed boded no good to Duck. He had nipped the chief and the chief meant to have satisfaction for a bleed- ing hand. He struck the parrot with his bamboo cane and the bird fell fluttering to the floor, where he lay senseless. A guard picked him up by the tail feathers, rushed to the open door and hurled the body far into a bamboo thicket. Duffy and two others sprang up; next instant they were rolling on the floor with Hill “Lemme go—lemme get at him yelled the corporal. “I'll kill the black dog!™ But Duffy was not yet tired of life. & The major was composing himself for an afternoon nap. His haggard face showed that he had not had too many naps of late. It is no small thing to re- port sixteen men lost when there is offi- clally no war. He had scoured the country much of late—he was tired. His eyes closed drowsily—a famillar sound caused him to open them dream- 1ly. “There's — that — cussed — parrot — again!™ Suddenly he sprang to his feet. “My God!” he gasped, “what was that?” He listened. Outside his window he heard it again. “Haw—haw—haw—haw! there; ye bald-headed galoot! haw—haw!"” The major dashed to his' window and tore aside the shell blind. On the lower limb of the mango tree sat Duck. It is not to be wondered at that the captain and the two lHeutenants and the surgeon thought the major mad. His manner of calling them to his room gave them .ample grounds for such a belief. Then they saw Duck and un- derstood. It was soon noised about that Duck had come back, and the entire garri- son crowded about under the major's window. Duck, apparently bewildered at the excitement, cocked his head in characteristic manner. Then he plant< ed both feet on the limb, lowered his head and raised his outspread tail. ‘‘Hello, boys!"” he shouted. A few answered, but the held an awed silenc “Haw—haw—haw!" chuckled Duck, ruffling his feathers; then, in an angry tone: “Shut up, Hill; loco!™ More than one man turned white about the mouth. The major leaned Liven up, Haw— majority yer loco—yer loco— than that it isn’t perceptible to the naked eye. Having made the seminary without serious damage to himself, he began to look for one of those warm-heart- ed city charges that his friend had told him about. He had no trouble in finding charges, but they were all headed the wrong way. Added to this was the fact that none of the city pulpits seemed to be yearning for a fresh, untutored yo: ° to beat the dust out of the cushions. The Preachers’ Union is opposed to letting any man In for full membership who hasn’t served a long apprenticeship in a country parish, where he is paid in produce and worn-out clothes. An- drew tried the country for six months and concluded that was a cHoice be- tween continuing to preach and con- tinuing to live. ~:ing naturally of a narrow, bigoted disposition, he pre- ferred to live, and therefore resigned his charge. By all the laws of the universe he should now have retired into an alms- house and spent the rest of his days in criticlzsing the Government and telling how cold the winters were in the early seventies. . At the psychological mo- ment, however, some one presented him with a broken down typewriter. Having a large quantity of blank paper in the house Andrew forthwith against the window sill and wiped the moisture from h's forehead. “Get him in here,” he gasped. The second lieutenant coaxed Duck in with a banana. The old bird re- garded him suspiciously at first, but the fruit was a tempting bite. He side stepped along the limb to the lieu- tenant’s arm, and was dr n in. Then the major closed Ris blind. Duck found the banana good and was pleased. “This is hell, boys—this is hell, boys.” he crooned, cheerfully. Then, resent- fully, as he came to a hard lump in the banana, “That cuss Ramirez—Ra- mirez—Ramirez—he did it.” The officers started. “Ramirez—Ramirez—Ramires,” re- yeated the major, softly. “Ramirez—he be damned!” growled Duck. “We're here—we’re here—in hell —in San Miguel—Ramirez did it.” “Captain,” whispered the major, “go out and nail him yourself. Then bring him here, and we'll make him drink fresh water until we know something.” Next evening the entire company marched out of,San Ildefonso, and the major was in command. Beside him walked a very sick looking Filipino, but he no longer wore the broad-brimmed hat with the official band. All night the soldiers tramped; when morning dawned they were on a high plateau, In the center of which rose an old gray church. A shot broke the morning stillness, then a fusillade. The fight was short. Seventeen ladrones rolled over into the dew-covered grass. A big iron door swung open and ten hysterical men were dancing about on the level ground. One threw his arms upward and whooped like a red Indian. “It's HI!" shouted some ome, “and he’s loco!™ “Not loco, boys; not locol™ he yelledg “only feelin’ good—hooray!™ “Three cheers for Buck!™ shouted the second lieutenant. “Where is he?” gasped Hill, petrified. “The major's got him.” It was, in fact, Duck on the majer's shoulder, and as tough and garrulous as ever. “Shut up, HIIL” he shouted, “yer loco!™ “Three cheers for Duck!™ yelled HNI; and they were given, and they even say that Duck joined In. (Copyright, 1904, by Albert Sonnichsen.) OUGH A LAMENTABLE FAILURE jumped at the conclusion that the lit- erary life was the life for him. That was flve years ago. At the present mo- ment he is sitting in his study smok- ing a thick-waisted Havana and wait- ing for the footman and the butler to bring in the morning’s installment of checks in a clothes basket. Later in the day he will dictate a couple of chapters of his new book on “How to Get the Most Out of Life; or Publish- ers Made Easy.” He already has four novels in the half-million class-and is interviewed at léast once a week, be- sides contributing a column of Help- ful Talks With Young Men to the ‘Weekly Step-Ladder. His first novel was an illuminating exposition of the character -and career of a successful merchant prince. He followed this up with a legal novel, a romance of med- icine and a story of the pulpit that put the late “Robert Elsmere” clear out of the renning. It isn’t fair to Andrew to give away the formula, but we cannot refrain from offering a bit of worldly advice to the young man of the country in a few and mercifully brief words. If at first you don't succeed get out of the business and buy a typewriter. Then you can write a book and tell all about it. The people who have succeeded will fall over themshelves to buy the booik, Copyright, 1904, by Albert Britt,