The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, August 14, 1904, Page 7

THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. years ago, that I fell by chanee into this M right, by reasons that I need not 2 troubled o Tired of the hot bed rose and « self, crept down Kperiencing ns of a burglar ted the great door of the hotel and city,” bathed in a mysterious . sweet city of the dawn has ay be in London, in Paris again, in 1ave gone to sleep, but if per- tide of human life has dimmed s of the noisy day, I know that city, as I saw it first so many tears, no sorrow, through y of quiet vistas, fading into whispering peace; this, city of s me to talk with it awhile be- e them, and with a sigh it > great city's one hour of purity, groping with her filthy hand, in- noves from door. to door an accus- her bent body, her scarred face, , an eloquent indictment of nd its deaf shutters. Yet even into ace that fills fog this brief hour the s end, my sigl Men and women the husks thatt ill'he pails outside the a little longer, you and yours. Your £ your thin locks once soft and wavy, straight. Maybe, as they- tell you in bulging sack shall be lifted from youdr nisshapen limbs be straight again. Be sure, ss not unheeded through these empty streets. the universe are slecping. The little seamst work! A little later she will be one of : 1ents e g in the foolish laughter, in the coarse jcs:ls_uf o t the hot day has not claimed her. The \J pvaY home of mean cares and sordid strug- D=4 " er also in this moment are the sweet thoug! 1 cak : puts down her bag, rests herself upon a seat. h: e were 1, this city of the morning always with us! xhboring clocl forth the hour. She starts up from » the noisy workroom with air of lovers cross the k, holding each tarn this same way later in the day, its coarse Now the purity of the morning is aged clerk comes puffing into view; He stops to take off his hat kerchief; even to him the face changes almost as one jad, with his .vague hopes, his of Aphrodite in one of the smaller eek, without particularly mear v in the morning standing in front of the , as one does when in dream 1 to go, | encountered the same 1 He was an un same of me. F mood he ave been a well minor Goy or | a rs later I paid me hour. Thi 1 him by sc and then he did urious th e pedestal, which may have t. he drew himself up tili his lips itly, almost reverentially, the 1 t was with the city’s dirt. Had i student of the Latin Quarter one would d. But he was such a very commonplace man. Afterward he drew a pipe from his lighted it, took his umbrella from the and walked away. Had it been their Had he been wont to tell her, gazing at she was to the statue? The French Irs. Grundy. Maybe the lady, rais- sed, perhaps for a moment angry— € one supposes. ' In France the meet her lover unattended. but the vagrant fancy of a agination the romance that ving his love-dream round this change- bitter comedies the lovers agree to to see each other in the ch will bear away the image of the with the glory of youth and love; each f who shall be beautiful al- h wild nonsense as it > married in the wyer. ing. like 't to con s, had been cc lliner or Or was | /) 4 ress should be. They i ‘m( »_!/ | s o, when every R | 1an ing with fine iith, y enter. What 1| T : F rears h if \! I id t? Fifteen years | passed awa fifteen years P of with the grim rea He is growing bald. have to be provided for. Hi »otmaker. To exist you have to fig apons. And the sweet girl heroine, ! One rings the curtain y; will not even n ends with d mother of ts! amid satanic laughter. That for one reason among so many, I love this mystic morning It has strange pov of revealing the beauty that is hidden from by the coarse beams of the full day. Th s¢ worn men and women, gre so foolish looki so unromantic—these artisans d pretty clerks plod their monotonous day’s work; these ed women of the people on their way to* market to haggle over sous, to argue and contend over paltry handfuls of food. In agic morning light the disguising body becomes transparent. have growr beautiful, not ugly, with the years of toil and ip; these lives lived so patiently are consecrated to the ice of the world. Joy, hope, pleasure—they have done with all such; life for them is over, yet they labor, ceaselessly, uncom- ngly. Tt is for the children. It is curious the attraction that a church has always possessed for the marketing classes. Christ drove them from the Femple, but stiil in every Continental city they cluster round its walls. It the worr N LIE STO0D FOR HALF A LIINUTE 25 TARING AT HER makes a charming picture on a sur dral with its massive shadow formin about its feet, like a parterre of 1 some old tree, the wcmen, young tumes, sitting before their piled up brilliant fruit. In Brussels the chicf mark place; the great gilded houses have same scene every morning these four time it commen about half-ps ; by 5 o'clock it is a roaring hive, the great city round about still slceping. Here comes the thrifty housewife of the poor, to whom the difference of the tenth of a penny in the price of a cabbage is all important, the much harassed Leeper of the petty pension. There are houses in Brussels where they will fecd you, light you, sleep you, wait on you, for two francs a day. Withered old ladies, ancient governess who will teach you for forty centimes an hour, gather round these rickety tables, wolf up the thin s rumble at the watery cof- fee, help themselves with unladylike greediness to the potato pie. It needs careful housckeeping to keep these poor creatures on two francs a day and make a profit for yourself. So “Madame,” the much-grumbled-at, who has gone to bed about iz, rises a little be- fore 5, makes her way down with her basket. Thus a few sous may be saved upon the day's economies. They are Babel of bargaining, these markets. The purchaser selects a cauli- flower—fortunately the caulifiower has no feelings, or probably it would burst into tears at the expression with which it is regarded. It is impossible that any lady should desire such a caulifiower; still, out of curiosity, she would know the price—that is, if the owner of the cauliflower is not too much ashamed of it to name a price. The owner of the cauliflower suggests six sous. The thing is too ridiculous for argument; the other lady breaks into a laugh. splashed 1l the trunk of many colored cos- of green vegetables, of t is held on the Grand looked down upontmuch the hundred years. In summer- S, The owner of the caulifiower is stung; that caulifiower. Apparently it is the cauliffower out « stock that she loves best; a better caulifiower never lived ; were more caulifiowers things might be different. She sketch of the caulifiower’s career from its youth upward. cnough it will be for her when the hour for parting f If the other lady has not sufficient knowledge of cauliflowers to ap- preciate it will she kindly not paw it about, but put it do d g0 away and never let the owner of the cauliffower see her ag The other lady, more as a friend than a purchaser, points out the cauliflower’s defects. She wishes well to the owner of the cauli- flower and would like to teach her something about her busi A lady who thinks such a caulifiower worth six sous can r hope to succeed as a cauliffower vendor. Has she really taken the trouble to examine the cauliffiower for herself or has love made her blind to its shortcomings? The owner of the cauliffiower is too indignant to reply. She snatches it away, appears to be comfort- ing it, replaces it in the basket. The other lady is grieved at hu- man obstinacy’ and stupidity in general. If the owner of the cauli- flower had had any sense she would have asked four sous. Even- tually business is done at five. It is the custom everywhere abroad —asking the price of a thing is simply opening the conversation. A lady told me that the fifst day she began housekeeping in Flor- ence she handed over to a poulterer for a chicken the price he had _ demanded with protestations that he was losing by the transaction but wanted for family reasons apparently to get rid of the chicken. He stood for half a minute staring at her and then, being an honest sort of man, threw in a pigeon. Foreign housekeepers starting business in London appear hurt when our tradesmen decline to ac- cept half a crown for articles marked three and six. Then why mark it only three and sixpence? is their argument. i she points the beauties of II her if tl gives a Hard ym it comes. er