The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 18, 1904, Page 14

THE - SAN-- FRANCISCO - SUNDAY CALL. W g e HF MEETS THE RIDDLE A WOMANS HEART AND ENGAGES A POLITICAL MANAGER. D: am disposed to the opinion that ven over hopelessly to futile gentleman who has a proper 1c and effort should bestow. the i i During ace I resolved to- concern ing community. ic activities for which I feel ! shall not conceal that a selfish became evident to me that Miss ately insensible to my superior merits, to her—to any one who has had op- It is of no importance to me, of ul of my worth, for I can in no . as a matter of pride, I felt the exceptional mental quali- he oratorical prize at the Sacchrine Academy. f ned what may be termed a negli- or otherwise—became apparent; me; and it was on that-account I spoke er in a wholly impersonal way. . Lacquerre, “has it ever occurred to in intuitive faculty?” ?” inquired Mrs. Lacquerre. , for, as you are acquainted with rprised to hear her reported as using , which, 1 confess, amazed me, coming from i exalted social circle. I explained, “has proved her lack of keen mental no act, but rather through an attitude.” quoth Mrs. Lacquerre with much spirit, spoke in little old New York. Has Frances icy eye or sentenced you to the forest? Out with it, acities. her favorably 1 been doing nov la lang her precise t be k's m d, Reuben! as she is “Pardon me, What I Why, for v of her high breeding fail to recognize nces has done nothing to me. e is than what she does. fhigures o1 speec e on is rather what mple, should a young lady ng the young gentlemen about her those who plainly possess rior meri surely it would be more becoming in her to pay trit of recognition, at least, to unassuming worth rather 1d the vacant victory of him who can drive a golf ball two hundred and twenty-five yards and putt it—if my terminology is ac- putt it—fifteen Of what avail is it that one man s and studious nights grappling with problems if he is, in the company of a Fr es, to be ig- r a youth who has just won a tennis tournament, and whose 1 and apj curate, yards. rious da of psychic import v extends but slightly beyond the words ‘suve’ ‘peach? When 1 I bec finished speaking Mrs. Lacquerre laughed so hear- and even then she only gasped, “Oh, Reu- > alarmed . if you must ask me the riddle of a woman’s heart try v Yorkese. Gee, your language counts me out!” at a loss to interpret her merriment or her words, y assistance. as equ but she came ) “I suppose, Reuben,” she resumed when she had become more composed, “you are quizzing Frances’ mamma to find out why you are not strong with Frances. Well, you are stronger with her than I mean that she sees something in you that 1'll be She thinks you've a temper and a will of your own, To be honest with you, I can’t sec through your uncle’s chin, and he’s a pretty good party at that. for goodness’ sake, Reuben, if all you want is adoration—or what ves around at some of the other gals. Your in you, as a fact, but that’s enough to make them goo-goo like a flock of adoring sheep. Now, of course, I'rances being the only girl in the bunch who happens not to care for your money, she is the very one you want to care for you.” “Pardon me again, madam,” I replied with dignity, “you as- sume more than my utterances warrant. I did not make a per- sonal application of the lack of a certain appreciative faculty in Frances.” “Oh, all right,” Mrs. Lacquerre responded merrily, “we’ll make it impersonal. Frances is like every other woman, in that she cares for men who do something. She is unlike the other girls down here at the house parties in not caring for money. Well, there you are; you, or the impersonal chap you’re preaching about, have done noth- mg. The other boys here have. Athletics are the fashion, and they are up in G right there. I suppose if it were the fashion for gen- tlemen to go to war, or paint pictures, or press wild flowers, or ham- ner wrought iron they’d be doing the proper thing. Now, you and I can be on the level about Frances. I'd like to have you marry her, because I know your people and because your Uncle Si is mighty strong with me—and that’s no joke—and because you've money enough to take care of Frances without my having to beggar myself Now, that’s what your Uncle Si would call a black sand talk, but it won’t do you a bit of harm to hear it. If you want to win my kid run away and do something. Did you ever hear your Uncle Silas tell the difference between hunters? He says one kind bring back the stories and the others bring back the coon skins. Frances is mighty fond of coon skins. Sure!” I was as dazed as amazed when I left the lady. Dazed, for, of course, I could understand but a little of her jargon; amazed, be- cause what little I understand seemed to indicate that I belonged to the class of men who boast of their merit rather than prove it by action. I gradually became calmer, for I find it a simple matter to dis- miss any mental irritation resulting from the discovery of a slighting opinion of me. Those who, like me, have acquired merit by pro- ou deserve. larned if T sce. which ought to make you arrive. oks like it— t your e miliions are all they se to do it. \DVENTURES OF REUBE OE | THE BIGGEST THINGS MUST HAVE B SMALZ BEGINNING foundly considering all important matters atfecting the reai things of life have but to call upon our philosophy to cure the slight ill of beinggmndervalued. Surely, we say, wisdom is known of her chil- dren, and if the wise at times are unknown, it is because they have been in the company of the unwise. This reflection readily assuaged any slight regret I may have felt at the lack of appreciation I encountered in Mrs. Lacquerre, but to my surprise it did not work a cure in the case of my disappoint- ment concerning Frances. p It was then I resolved to prove that the intellectual force I had accumulated could be directedsinto a current of active energy as pal- pable as that physical energy so futile yet so much in vogue in this foolish day and generation, Naturally I turned to polifics. Having equipped myself to en- ter the arena wherein giants contest for upremacy in statesmanship it seemed expedient that I should utilize my strength not alone for the good of ‘my beloved country, but to prove to one woman—one woman—that the capacity to use a niblick to negotiate a bad lie in a bunker is not the ultimate of consummate achievement. I had, on one of my evenings of lighter entertainment, met a singularly self- possessed young gentleman, who, I was informed, was of consid- erable importance in local political circles. I sought this young gen- tleman, Mr. Con Hogan, and disclosed to him my resolve to enter politics, and informed him that I was aware of the necessity a be- ginner had for a practical manager. Mr. Hogan approved my de- cision, but hesitated about accepting the management of my canvass. “My job,” he remarked, “my special graft is preparing candidates for big office. I suppose you want to run for Alderman, for the Leg- islature or, at best, for the House of Representatives in Congress. To t{:e woods with them! Now if you were a top liner, a mug out for the real goods, a white haired lad who had a hand and heart out for a United States Senatorship or the Vice Presidency, why, Con Hogan would bring you to the starter fit to run for a life. A young fellow like you, with your upper story bulging with statesmanship and T BY EDWARD W. TOWNSEND. things, ought not to go to the Alderman’s chair; better the electric chair! You're the kind that butts into the White House, you are. Sayia Senatorship first, then the Vice Presidency, and having got your age and weight, to the White House for yours! I'm sofry you insist upon remaining an Alderman; that's only a starter. I'd like to help you, but I won't take Presidential timber and whittle it into a hitching post. Don’t ask me. Forget it!” He was so .indignant that I hastened to assure him that I had no small aspirations—that even a Senatorship would be scarcely worth waiting for until I was of proper age. Yet, as it would prob- ably lead to the White House in my case, I would put myself in his hands, leave the practical work to him and myself undertake the congenial task of firing the popular heart and rousing the public enthusiasm. Mr. Hogan was delighted. He so assured me. “I was afraid,” said he, “that you might be satisfied with nothing more than the Governorship. But your looks give me hope. If wou're ready to start at once we'll lay out a programme—Alderman, Assemblyman, State Senator, Vice President, President. What New York City— snug little old Manhattan—has been yearning for is a statesman. Since my old friends Tilden and Conkling died we’ve been short on statesmen. You're it. But the biggest things must have a small beginning. We’ll begin with the Reuben Larkmead Social and Qut- ing Club, with politics on the side. “I’ll have the club started to-morrow. We’ll have a banner rais- ing the next night, a dance the next week, a barge picnic the week after, then a political night. Then the convention will have to give us what we ask or we’ll knife the ticket. That’s Con Hogan's way.” My emthusiastic manager juraped up and was hurriedly depart- ing, but stopped to say: - “There’ll be a trifle preliminary expense— a thousand or so. Shall I advance it for you, or” I interrupted the generous fellow to hand him a check for a thousand, and he departed. I am now at work on my political speech, to be delivered to the Reuben Larkmead Social and Outing Club, and when the columns of the press ring with my utterances on the vital questions of the day perhaps one woman may admit that all glory does not halo the brow of him who excels only in the trifling tricks of the tennis court. Assuring you of prompt advisement of my political advancement, | remain, affectionately REUBEN. NS Y~ @ FEERGIT DI s L S0 RN o ANBBRR. 1 NS IS o N\ g (N & —\\i