The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 25, 1904, Page 9

THE .SAN FRANCISCO:.SUNDAY CALL. N OM the 014 log meeting-house arose a ha sweet echo of a music-history of Anglo-Saxo The preacher had not yet a beneath the trees sat the wise community, and when Old Lim Juck- dater ined and his wagon, conduc nis fe to the fellow weil train 2 s arase g chicken fighting oracle a seat. He sat his back against a tree, put his hat on round veside him, ident upon utt d the necessary com- ecting his friends, saw a g with iwo days, and then after t silence remarked 1 see that a Jedge over at gh in grantin’ a divorce says there don't appear doubt of the fact th: marriage is a failuve. me to time within the past few years I have methin’ about this here failure on the part of riage, but never put my mind down on {t till one of Jedges rendered his decision in the matter.” | re Brizintine spoke up. “And does it uel, that he has got anywhere close O of his hat the old man took his red bandana Z‘ dkerchief, wiped his brow and, spreading the ef across his knees, replied that it was a eeded somelittle investigat jon. "1 e g i he, * vs laughed and Sq th a loud snore, for it related to one way makes a feller feel sa pinion of the Jedge over way to find out wheth is to start an gggitation here are thousands of me ind keep it that stand forward and sw that human 1 1 failure anfl has beeq ever since old N ir: k too his own wine. There d make it a a success in much that way pots ain’t found it of marriage, but dgment d of woman e boys smiled, for well known that the with their 4 echoes of mar sat smoothing h B Well,” of marriage comes has jedgment enough to make We kr t at twenty a but we sxpect borhood it was s wife had the ques re she on age to be ri arge of a household. / t about sense enough to tak ut trap. Di to keep out of a t about virty f marriage ore to woman ¥ to make more ings appeal she am es. Common sense ought tc women pokin n don’t make best hus- s s where the trouble lies, the lack of sense. A cur] hangin’ low over a forehe { of tune to a laugh count more with the the multinlication table. - And thers may fires in the kitchen stove. Amy. feller hen he goes a co! . but the feller that g ity and at home is the t smiles some when he's at work. The hap- time of a girl's life is when she is engaged. for he has the dazzlin’ promise of somethin’ that ain: 0 be fulfilled. The hero that she is g to marry 1 titters like June water a bab E 'n over ered rocks, but if weighed and put np for o of common sense he wouldn’t feteh as a side of bacon. The trouble is she takee on looks, and he takes her the same way, ang . A = 3 ay, . Angel’s Y Victory ii BOOOIO0000000000008) 00 ILIL, hated her, chiefly because task w i ey ret ot (s Il Diton h.,('use as finished they returned to the = .g:ezrn;]e‘ z;f'tl;}‘:f | “We've *d the five-hundred gal- _Wheu e T " tank,” said Paton, coming up to of Co kno re Bill hal a steamer led to sa \ wgel, the chestaoe, Chair ‘on the '5. Bown b o rather middle-aged and not L1 J3m In ti t, but I hate to \ 4 g thing Morton had repre- ovelt porate in the sun, and .;4 ),l- < sn’t a horse to drag it up to the 74 I reove temper, soured by oy / E re of {ll treatment, was none . was nervous, too, 1e was only r 2 d ate. Ehe i f sh 74 l : and returned it ere sent J ¥ overseer, .y v 3 but kind the paddock 1 . 5. & 56" wis ad for Angel. She ) gentiene 1 work. L It believ S cried Hill. “I'm = or boss here, and when I say a thing is WA~ th be done, it's going to be done.” \ [ 7 { s Al Go aheaa d do ] / } 1 esporded Paton. The ove nager never did hit i 3 and the heat hadn’t im- proved their tempers. “But stay,” Pa- n added, a thought striking him. “I'll try what I can do first.” With that Paton went down to the piddock, caught Angel, harnessed her, put her in the cart, and then coaxed her to drag the load. By striving and straining, she dragged the cart a few steps through the heavy sand, then paused and turned her eyes on Paton entreatingly as though to say: “I'd do it for you, but I can Hill was watching the performance 3O~ ‘{ A\ by eheer brutality. There had been no rain for months. the men watehed the sky, LAR S 3 7 the parched earth, r a cloud to veil his face or tem- e he The water in the dam eting low, and when that was the station people would have to perish or get out, unless r were reached in the well Hill inking on the flat. Water was a = dity on that inland oY om rhat Inland yom the veranda, for the house was close day late in February Duilt on the top of the sand hill, the dam was in the creek at its foot, and no bushes intervened. When the man- ager saw the horse stop he got up and went quickly down, “What's the matter?” he asked. “It's just as I said,” answered Paton, “the mare hasn't the strength to haul such a load.” “Hasn't she? I'll see about that. e crisis of that awful summer. leaf stirred. The air at each ation burnt the lungs, and the of human endurance seemed to been reached. Yet it was this rnoon of all others that Hill or- aton and Maicolm to fill the ig iron tank. They worked hard for an hour, Mal- w +a y - Y a It's clm filling the buckets and handing her d—d ‘obstinacy, that's what it is. Z hem up to Paton, who poured the Angel? It's Devil she ought to be S, cotents into a tank When their called.” OPL RIAGE 44 e 1 READZ P A e A aa sl “Let me get the other tank, put half the water in it, and then she can easily manage it in two trips,” suggested Pa- ton, controlling his rising anger. “No! She'll haul the tank as it is!” “Then I'll wash my handg of the whole business.” Paton walked up the slope. As he stepped on the veranda, Mrg. Hill, who was standing at the door, looked back into the house and called to her young cousin: “‘Muriel, come out and see this brute! She won’t pull the tank up the hill, but Horace will soon make her. He knows how to manage horses.”” And ghe shot a scornful glance in Paton's direction, Muriel Everton came out. She was a all, slender girl, dressed in white. Her delicate throat was bare and her cheeks” blanched by the heat, but her beautiful brown eyes were clear and deep and tender, She and Paton exchanged quick glances, then she looked down at the man and the horse, shuddered and turned away. Hill, by thrashing the chestnut, had forced her to haul the cart a few steps, then Angel stopped. With kindness she might have made a further effort, but Hill had aroused he? obstinate spirit and she would not budge an inch. This infuriated the man and he beat her over the head with the butt of the stock whip he carried. Still she did not move. Then, as he continued to beat her, in her agony she stepped back- ward, plunged and reared, the cart tipped back, the mare was drawn up and in her struggles broke the shafts, the tank fell out, the cover rolled off and the whole of the flve hundred gal- lons of precious water was swallowed up by the burning sand. Hill took the horse from the cart, and, insane with rage, commenced to thrash her again. Then there was a sudden rush of something white, as though a cloud were flylng down the hill, and Murie! threw herself between Hill and Angel, ‘tlasping the mare's head in her arms, and the heavv whip descended on the delicate shoulders, which showed pink and then scarlet through the thin mus- Iin of her gown. Before Hill's raised arm could fall again it yas grasped by a strong hand and a flerce volce hissed: “Madman! Would you strike a woman?" For a moment Hill's glance met the stern eyes of the overseer, then it wa- vered and fell on the girl. “Muriel, are you there? Did I hit 4 /( '} s B s ey PR A A s A A S taand you? I didn’t mean to,” he said weak- Jy., Did it hurt?” “Hurt!” cried Paton, his eyes fairly blazing. “Do you know that you might have killed her?” “She shouldn't have interfered,” sald Hill sullenly. “Not another word, or by heaven I'll kill you,” sald Paton. Hill shrank from the fury in the other man's eyes, and slunk away to the house. “My darling,” said Paton in a voice so fraught with love that the girl's heart quivered with a joy that was al- most pain, “did he hurt you very much?"’ And his lips tenderly pressed the bruised shoulder. “It does hurt most awfully, but I think that he did not know I ere,” answered Muriel, glancing up through her tears. “But, oh, look at poor Angel" The chestnut, lying huddled in the sand, was truly a pitiable sight. She had won out, indeed, but at what a cost! r head was'cut and bleeding, her eyes swollen and closed, and she panted and groaned with pain. “Oh, do you think she will die, Wil fred?” asked Muriel. “No. But you'll get sunstruck here. Go back to the house, dear, and get Mrs. Hill to bathe, your shoulder. I'll tend to the mare. And, Muriel, I can't stay at Cowara now. I've been repeat- edly offered the management of Murta, but—I—I could not leave until I kriew if you cared. I'm not worthy, I know; I've such a vile temper—" Muriel shook her head. “But now—now—yonu'll let me come for you when 1 get straightened out over there, won't you?" Again Muriel looked up, and his eyes drank deep from the radiance of hers. “And, Angel?”’ she whispered. “Oh, 'l buy her from Hill. He won't refuse to sell her for the price I'll offer, I know."” > . . . . . . Three months later Angel was one of the leaders in the four-in-hand behind which Paton drove his bride to hér new home, It was a new world through which they traveled, for the rain had come and green grass covered the once arid earth, flowers bloomed on every side and birds sang in the trees. And it was a new ‘Angel, who with arched neck led the team, proudly conscious of the precious burden she carried and of the confidence reposed in her by her new owner. (Copyright. 1904, by F. E. Hawson.) are totzl strangers.’ L 3 ference with natur’. Y it is still alive in th part of the human reckon it was intend: were intended failure now than ever to get married. “but on marriage and enemies livin’® hearts, “I knew of a high till they fell out. she never uttered a tr ‘If you were a man I I'm your man.’ sons why there are so have gone out of f: responsibility of a fa acter. I have seen & never saw .one that wa had no children at all. The up in a church. woman that tells furriners than anybod. be admired as a d summer a woman came pullin’ of her skirts ba bull pup I 'lowed to myself I'd some things can’t be helped. an old detective in Chicage to him that 80 per cent of say nothin’ the good old time boys.” (Copy The claim put forward for an original treatment be regarded as concerni rather. than its substance. lower turbinated bone is condition is normal. Atlantic seaboard few noses invite consumption. In such ca: simply by enlarging the nasal cavi e, if that exists, or a portion of the turt often undertaken, as in the case of Mr. no danger whatever of consumption, health. Yet in theconsideration of no greater than in consumption. supersede the function of fresh air and New York World. . @ | 5seChaplain’s Wit ; By C. B. Lewis [C NE day at the Third National Bank in the city of Cornopolis, a stranger walked through the president’'s room and past the bookkeeper’s and took from the pile of money stacked at the paying- teller's right hand four packages of $10,000 each. He was coolly walking out again when stopped by the presi- dent and a gun. The man was known to the police as “Slick Charlie,” and to tell of all his adventures would fill a book. It was for his attempted theft of the $40,000 that he was sent to the. Woonson Peni- tentiary for five years. The officer who delivered him behind the doors of that institution said to the Warden: “Here is a man you want to keep an eye on. Don't lose sight of him day or night. He is bold and nervy on the one hand, and slick and sly on the other. Don’t trust him for an hour or he’ll beat the game.” If a prison chaplain were to be ques- tioned about religion in a prison, he would answer that scores of prisoners lived' up to it and were earnest and de- vout. If an experienced Warden were to be questioned, he would answer that just when a prisoner began to “get good"” he should be watched the closest. The chaplain was a man 45 years old, while No. 870 was only 30. The chap- lain was four inches the taller, had , stoop shoulders and shambled as he walked, He also had a peculiar intona- ticn. The slick convict gave up his original idea of digging for liberty to study the chaplain. At the end of five months he was one of the teachers in the evening school. It was the habit of the chaplain to visit the prison every afternoon from 3 to 5. A part of the time was spent with prisoners in their cells—men who were undergoing light punishment— and a part in the library, and he al- ways left pretty promptly at 5. In going out he passed three guards at locked gates and went through the Warden's office and oyt of the main door, No. 870 had held the position of librarian for three months, and it was midwinter, One afternoon the chaplain had been visiting in the pris- on and returned to the library at a quarter of five. As he entered the after they have been married “But how would you remedy A “I can't remedy it—and In m to be failures. The more folk: and a woman do the best they out bad it can’t be helped. is true, but to live with somebod a blight on the mind and the !} many lives to live, of that we one, and when that one i black bear said to the t of a ix. All the wisdom now called high morality to do show a loose state of together ‘God bless our home,’ & don’t bless ain’t a comfortable seat strung woman over the hills She called him of the fact that she ta somethin’ at _him, a butcher 'd kno lenge you to fight a duel”’ a woman stand in your w k shot as you are, and if you w So they agre shot - him in the shoulder. and she ‘lowed that she ‘d Then she yoked up the nursed him till he got well as happy as two doves. sre deplored than a childless old age. I' More men h than by all the moral lessons h of so myself that she must be powerful neat and has been goin’ faster and fas town wa’'n’t made up mostly o ight, 1904, by daring surgeon who would v The trouble is the nasal passages,/so that mouth bre: even habitual, and this crippling of the T It has no single cat Nose treatment is a quick, easy and valuable aid in its bef Divoree wou -spirited fel ed a good W He ¢ It se man ru Man st o tol mer e com Opie Read.) are normal iti cu! Depew some for the disease i proper diet u It was 6 o’ In the c had done some ful things. knocking down chaplain he stripped oft the lat and clothed h had secured h locked the door emerged. Sha to ‘the first g “James, 1 ca only a dime in my poc ket. loan me a dollar until to-morrow?” “With the greatest of pleasure, chap- lain,” and the mx over. The same game had be the two otherg, and th the lain” had entered thq Warden He could have passed right as the official was busy, but ins that he took a chair and walted ten minutes. When the Warden was at liberty he was asked for a loan of $10, and the “chaplain™ reported to him on the welfare of three or four different prisoners before saying good-night. Fifteen minutes after leaving the prison the disguised prisoner entered the larg store in the town and borrowed §20 of the merchant and then dis- appeared. ‘When the library door was broken open at 6 o’clock and the real chaplain found there was a great commotion. Three gatemen were ready to swear that the clersyman had passed out, taking a dollar from each as he did s0. The Warden had‘'seen and talked and loaned money to the same man. Two guards had also seen him. Here were six prison officials who could swear to a thing, and yet that thing was not a fact. No. §70 had simply imitated the chaplain down to a line— his voice, gait, speech and general look. At 11 o'clock the next forenoon the president of the Third National Bank of Cornopolis was called out of his room for a moment. During his ab- sence a man dressed like one of the clerks in the bank entered the room | and bore away a package of bonds the face value of $18,000. “Slick r- [ lle” wanted to be revenged upon the { bank, and he wanted money with which | to leave the country, and he tarried | in the town to get both. The president of the bank is sure of this because g | note left on his desk told him so. (Copyright, 1904, by C. B. Lewis.)