The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, May 25, 1905, Page 8

THE SANFRANCISCO CALL HI§ ADVANTAGE THE TW0 MUSES HN D. JOHN McNAUGHT A suppl make eita T1t was a sad day when the delta of the Nile and the Assouan | dar§ entered American irrigation oratory and literature. conteyed the same error that has been propagated by the assump- | tion that irrigation everywhere in the arid region is to produce the | same practical man knows that this is not so. " fruitfu N FRANCISCO CALL, THURSDAY, MAY 25 1905. SPRECKELS. . .. ADDRESS ALL COMMUNICATIONS TO ATION OFFICE THIRD AND MARKET STREETS. SAN FRAN MAY 25, 1905 DEFILING THE WATERS. ion that a section of the California s relating to the purity of streams f Health and the Fish defilement of the rly derelict in this mat- ing conclusion, supposed to be a certain volume of water moving in a river innocuous a certain volume of sewage. ghest up stream takes its potable river 1 puts its sewage back. The next city same, and the stream goes on accumulating the people who use the water are happy in the disin- and wonder v have typhoid fever and other subject of congratul arge of questic 1 port the Board ¢ their | ninst that a render rivers lh'\‘ C \_\ why th that the n by water if discharged into stream y for a city is from a well-guarded known ¢ ves no sewage because the water im- f sewage-borne diseases. In the srope, from which Spain suffered disease was traced. It was found that rseilles and gone to his native town lalquiver. Immediately his 1 died. The town sewered into the appeared down the river wherever estic The volume of water in irely ineffective in its action upon upon use. of the septic action of water upon sewage It is disproved by the experience of Chicago. into the lake and took its potable > crept farther and farther out on sewage t beyond the crib which took the € res supply of water so bad that a principal the Board of Health is in preventing its use unless to disinfect sewage is not confined to fresh do something in that way, but it is far from i T'he harbor of Havana, receiving in spite of the action of the that port on this m of the coast and ter wi as a disinfec since the uilt, Sailors dislike ight indentat e ion of the near ocean, but it could by no means discharged into it. Havana has only ha Francisco, and yet its sewage waste has rm an of the purity of streams sec- similar case in the harbor of 24 south, which puts it below y of Florida is in 25 north y under more tropical conditions than for the different climatic conditions of the 1ciSCO, excep! sts. | g San Francisco Bay with sewage will finally iisance and then into a peril. Cities on the Atlantic 1 ncon le in the presence of the same ities generally woefully behindhand in waste, whether the material be dry, moist or make a proper and sanitary disposition of this waste government. It concerns the public health and wel= are the supreme law. Government in our cities has in this matter. This neglect is the odium iple of Before the o business, subjecting opean cities in municipal owner- American municipality ceases to elf to the law of cor- es S, WC not be well for it to first charge all of its Fra 0 is about to take out of the general fund and sipalizing the Geary-street road an unknown and be a million before the work is finished. the concentration and sanitary treatment would improve the public health, sweeten the arrest shoaling as far as the solids of sewage 1 would put San Francisco in line with the best ; it is now, this and nearly all American cities position of their waste are so little in advance of Asiatic they must, from the standpoint of sanitary science, be cl Yet the majority of American cities are to divert public funds to the acquisition of public ing sanitary treatment of waste on the Asiatic plane. be well for public bodies, clubs and organizations to forces and insist that cities shall first govern effi- I things within their jurisdiction, including the disposi- When municipal administration is proved capable 1 be tirhe to embark in busine mavy besought ss. WRITER in the Boston Globe breaks out in a smallpox of enthusiasm over the Federal irrigation district that is to be opened in Nevada on June 17. He says that the plant will a million acre feet of water and that it is to irrigate and “three hundred million acres of land, richer than the of the Nile.” They have variety and value of crops that it does in California. 1 ery Even in the same latitude it is useless to hope for such a result, for latitude has little to do with our climate. The Globe writer gets his inspiration from the vocal irrigators of the West, who make a fad of it for the sake of the spectacular exits and entrances they can make at irrigation congresses and other public meetings. They are the romancers and fictionists of the matter and are the laughing stock of practical vrnga(ors. As an antidote to the Globe writer’s extravagances it may be said that it is not expected that more than two million acres on the whole public domain can be subjected to Federal irrigation. As any land-owner within reach of a Federal plant may nse the water, provided the settlers on the public land can spare it, there will be a considerable extension of the service over private lands. The im- agination that can see this Nevada plant spreading water over three husdred million acres may be characterized as “a corker.” In the whole State of Nevada there are seventy million acres of land, end this writer must intend not only to irrigate it on both sides, but to slice it and irrigate both sides of the slices. To show the difference between such pipe dreams and the facts we refer our readers t9 the plain and reliable statement of Mr. Henry Thurtell, State Engineer of Nevada, in our Nevada edi- . He says: “When one considers that 500,000 acres is a liberal estimate of the total amount of land now under cultivation in Nevada, and that this (the same irrigation) project will probably reclaim 250,000 acres of new land, it will be seen how much these works mean to Nevada.” Mr. Thurtell understands the noble rhet- oric of understatement. The addition of 50 per cent to the pro- ducing lands of a State is sufficiently stupendous without clothing the project in the fieeting garlands of the imagination. . f Missouri has stamped “tainted” on the brewers' money in politics.—Kansas City Star. The receiver is & men who winds up a business after it h: — - as run down.: robes, or bacilli, of cholera and | Some people are almost fanatical in their| ORACE LARDWELL was i fat Hboy There was no disguising S nor modifying the fact. He had |not been a remarkably fat baby, his parents recalled with a sigh, but when some ten swift springs had flown over his head he began to swell like the frog in the fable. He grew tall as well, but his increase in height was as nothing to his increase in girth. | Mr. and Mrs. Lardwell almost de- | spaired. They were far from being rich—and the only clothing Horace could wear had to be made for him. Before he was five years older the exX- tra men’s sizes proved wanting. There never was a bigger hoy for his age who did not end in the circus sideshow or the dime museumn. All the boys called him Fatty—there was nothing else to express it. Even the girls—and Horace was fond of girls from infancy—could not call him anything else be- . hind his back and sometimes could not avoid using the ob- | noxious term to [} his very face. He was denied the us- ual privileges of running and jump- ing® with his fel- lows, for his mus- cle failed to devel- op when his adi- pose tissue was working overtime, and he had no play- mates except the girls, When the other boys went on long jaunts in the sum- mer weather, with a swim at the end of them, Horace waddled around the house or went to e some rare girl who could stand the subsequent laughter of her in- timates. No one could ever conceal the fact that Hor- ace Lardwell called on her. People used to turn about in the reet and try to watch him out of sight. But one girl out of all the lot— and a pretty girl, too, Minna Memory —never was when he went see her, and even go with him to § places as they grew older. Nedless to say, Horace could not dance. But he used sometimes to take § Minna to dances and watch her dance with others. He came to worship the very ground she walked on—or he would have done 5o if it had been worth g while. And he knew all the time that it was pity for hisZs loneliness rather § than any affection 3 for himself that § was at the bottom of her kindness. Horace was, an unhappy’ Dboy. ' He could not be called morose and he bore no grudge against anybody or any- thing exeept hisd————— own unnecessary|SAw HER STRUG- | flesh. Sometimes he GLING. spent a foolish mo — ment hating a great-grandmother of his, long gone to her rest, from whom his tendency to take on fat was supposed to come. He grew heavier and bulkier with every vear. And Minna was his one gleam of perpetual sunshine, hopeless as he felt his chances to be. Horace left school and went into business—after a long time, when he could find-nobody that could be made to believe that so stout a person as he would not be lazy. Once given his chance, he profited by it. He was no genius, but he was aware of the fact and devoted himself to his work with single-mindedness that won his slow | ana sure promotion. He used to call on | Minna often, until it became clear to {him that his attentlons were keeping 1mlwr men she was certain to like het- ter at a distance; then his visits al- most ceased. He was with her often in his thoughts, however—no one could stop that. One eveging when he "was giving himself the generally denied pleasure | of her society he heard her mother say |that the family was going to take a steamer to Milwaukee the next Sunday. Learning from the conversation that it |was to be a family party, he plucked up courage and asked if he might go !} with them. The answer did not come with any marked heartiness, but it came—and he was thankful for the smallest favor. Looking forward to it as the happiest day of his life, Horace found that etanding beside the dearést girl in the | world even for half an hour more than | fulfilled his expectations. That a storm should be coming up over the lake was mnot of the slightest conse- guence, Minna liked storms, and the two went up on the hurricane deck of the steamer, the better to see its ap- proach. There they were quite alone, the motion of the boat sending the rest WOULD NEED ’EM. She—Oh, Mrs. Wise is all right! He—How do you know? She—She gave Mr. Wise a thou- w collar buttons on. his birth- 'To list the gods and haply hear some By C. D. Stew'art. Colloquy between an average poet and Finerty of “The Fugitive Blacksmith.” | Aeschylus, the “father of Greek trag- ‘edy,” who died in 456 B. C. aged 69, is said to have been killed while sun- ning himself in a field, from having his bald head mistaken for a rock by an eagle soaring with a turtle, which was dropped on the supposed rock in order | to shatter its shell. It had been fore- told (according to legend) that the poet was not to die until a house should fall on him. i POET. ~ Old Aeschylus, with cloak and staff be- neath the waning star, Engaged with themes of gods and men, | Went. out upon the desert fen | Where self and silence are— FINERTY. Now let me catch yer m'anin’. dtherstand yer talk, Ye're tellin’ me that Aeschylus wint out ! to take a walk. POET. —To meet his soul in privacy. a votive tour To court the Muse and let his mind o’erlord" the manless moor, If T un- It was chorus of the whole. Accord response antiphonal unto his listening soul. FINERTY. I think I have yer m’anin’; whin I don't I'll tip th’ wink. He wint out on a vacant place “an’ thought he'd take a think POET. His tragedies threescore and ten, A noble theme he still would pen Of gods and men, the march of Fate, The cause of Freedom and the state; And so he sate him in the fen To meditate. FINERTY. Just wait now an’ be seein’ if J catch on what ye say: This Aeschylus, ye're tellin’, bye that wrote a play. I saw a thragedy mesilf, an’ bate it if ye will; They had a felly nearly kilt inside a rollin’ mill. POET. An eagle winging buoyantly abreast the burning dawn Soared 'mid the heights of matin fire ‘With turtle plucked from out the mire, And scanned the moor in deep desire Of rock to break it on. FINERTY. Hould on now. Have I got it like ye're thryin’ f'r to tell? Th’ eagle was a-lookin' f'r some way t' crack th' shell; An’' s0 he'd drop it half a mile an’ break it all apart. Bedad, who'd think an eagle was a bird that is shmart? POET. The poet's head, all bald and bare, bright in the morning shone; Unto the eagle high in air it seemed a rounded stone. With fateful poise and plummet aim, like discus featly sped, The turtle hurtling downward came, and smote the poet dead. FINERTY. That was too bad. We little know Th' ind we'll come to here below. POET. And so the end—more tragic end Than Aeschylus had ever penned. FINERTY. turtle Kilt, d' ye know? —Century. was th' An’ was th’ DON'T FORGET. There was a time when tallow candles cost. ten cents each and gave less than one-twentieth of the illumination for a dollar that gas gives. There was a time, and very recently, when gas, per unit of illumination (ean- dle power), cost the public double what it now does. There was a time (still more recently) when there was no electric light turning night into day. There was a time when we were satis- fied to travel four miles an hour in an omnibus or horse car without light or heat or transfers and pay six to ten cents for what we now get for five cents, with light and heat, and with speed doubled. There was a time when we thought it was a great thing to be able to telephone to a friend for fifteen cents, and vet we are not satisfied.—American Grocer. +- -+ below—and Horace was never happieér. For all their observation, the storm was upon them before they were aware. They had gone to the leeward side of the boat for a moment to watch a patch { of sunlight falling between the driv- ing clouds upon the water and turned | their backs to the gale. When it struck the ship its violence was enough to heel it over. This and the actual pressure | FOLLOWING THE BRETELLE MODE. Anything and everything that can possibly emphasize the long lne from shoulder to belt is in the height of the vogue, and the so- called bretelle styles lead all the rest. The model shows ' ' a clever comhbination of the vest and the strapped lines, and is developed in a smart silk-warp henrietta, of which material the skirt. Is likewise composed. But the vest and the edging that borders the bretelle-like pleats are of the henrietta embroidered by hand in the popular broderie anglaise. Three pleats occupy the shoulder seam, the fastening be- ing effected invisibly on the left side of the vest, and each pleat has a frill of embroidery to emphasize it. A smart little cravat of em- broidered crepe de chine is tied around the collar and laced through the strappings that cross the bust. The sleeve is a moderate gigot pattern, the fullness ceasing below the elbow, and a cuff effect attained in the strappings of embroidery that are spaced from wrist to elbow. MIRROR. OF DAME FASHION. |THE SMART SET. I 3 . ? —_—p A deep feather-boned girdle of coral panne makes a very smart touch of color contrast. e —— L — HAVE a letter from a mother who | after, a life of complete self-sacrifice in the interests of her children finds herself at the age of §0 years utterly without the care and devotion she has a right to expect from them. They do not purposely neglect her, she tells me, but somehow they cannot man- age to give her the help and the atten- tion she needs. Her husband has never and can contribute but little to her sup- port, so she is Ipractically dependent upon her children, financially. The bitter part of this is that they make her feel her dependence, seeming to be utterly oblivious of their dedt to her. After all her years of seif-denial and suffering for their sakes she is now compelled to feel that whatever they do for her is & strain upon them—a drain upon their resources. These children are all in a position to help her, but have so many obligations to meet that by the time mother's wants very little left to supply those wants. It against Minna's slight frame were quite enough to send her overboard and she flew through the air with an agonized cry. Horace could not swim a stroke. but| he leaped after her without a thought. | He struck the water feet first by al | lucky cance and went down, down. down, until he thought he would never rise again. But when he did comé up to the surface he saw her struggling desperately not a great way off. To his surprise he found himself floating with ease and able by moving his hands to approach her. In a moment he had caught her long hair and was holding her head above the waves, fors all their fierceness. . . There is no happier couple in the is simply a matter of ‘‘mother” taking what {8 left. “I cannot understand it,” she writes, “for 1 have always been willing to do everything for them. I have put my own needs and wishes last—have demanded you explain their now?” With all sympathy for this mother and with full appreciation of her right to feel bitterly hurt and deeply grieved over the gross ingratitude of her chil- dren, T am nevertheless compelled to tell her that she herself primarily is respon- sible for that thgratitude. This verdlct may sound brutal to her, but 1 am sure it is & truthful answer she wishes I shall give her what seems world. Even fat, says Horace, has its lem. The key to your unhappy situation, THE TOO UNSELFISH MOTHER. | She Has Only Herself to Blame When Her Children Neglect Her. ; By ANGELA MORGAN. been able to make a success in business | have been reached on the list there is | absolutely nothing for myself. How can indifference to me | to me to be a just solution of the prob- | | my dear woman, lies in your own con- fession that all your life you have saeri- ficed yourself for your children, demand- ing “absolutely nothing” in return. By your own attitude you have taught your children to neglect you and to dis- regard your rights. By your own actions ! you have fostered this tendency in them. | You have planted selfishness in theit na- jture, and then have persistently en- | couraged its growth. Of course you have not intended to do this. Your motive was right—your im- pulse was beautiful and noble—the true longing of mother love and devotion. But in your anxiety to fulfill that ideal you have gone far beyond the requirements. You have turned unselfishness into a fault instead of a virtue. The world is full of mothers like you— mothers who follow the traditional idea | that service means servitude and neglect | of self. God gave you yourself to cherish and, develop. Why should you ignore the charge? When you neglect yourself you do, in a sense, ignoré the command of your Creator. A certain wholesome selfishness is ab- solutely essential in the makeup of a well- rounded character. Every mother who does not possess this selfishness owes it :o herself and to her children to cultivate t. No one will grant you any more than you claim for yourself. If you slight yourself, put your needs last, subordinate your wishes forever to the wishes of others, you simply prescribe the treat- | ment others are bound to accord you. Even persons who really mean to do the {right thing by vou fail, for they will follow your lead and bestow upon you no more than you demand. If you slight yourself others will fall in line with your meager concept of your own rights. If your ruling passion is to i help evervbody except yourself you wiil discover that people will cheerfully per- mit you to do it. Unselfishness is a beautiful trait when | tempered with due consideration for one’s Johnnie (aged § into things. Johnnie—Then my dog must be microbe, 'cause every time I leave By Sally Sharp. The wedding last evening of Miss Flor- | ence Turner and Simeen T. Price Jr. was T4 notable event, both families being of | prominent standing in the East and well | conneeted on this coast. The Empire room in_the Palace Hotel was converted into a floral bower, t arrangement of American Beauty roses forming a series of arches, through which the bridal party approached the altar. The bride, in an exquisite importation of white satin and duchesde lace, was one of the fairest ever seem, her beauty, of the regal brunette type, being empha- sized by all hér lovely surroundings. Miss Mozelle Price, attending the bride, is a sister of the groom. She was also | gowned in white—embroidered . India mull, fashioned most becomingly. The bridesmaid, Miss Grace Jones of Buffalo, | wore duchesse silk and lace. The three | were enchanting in their daintiness and beauty. Rev. Dr. Clampett of Trinity Church read the service at $ o'clock in the presence of the relatives and a few friends, the ceremony being followed im mediately by a reception, which brought |a large number of guests to extend | greetings and congratulation. Mr. and Mrs. Price will make their home at St. Louis, where a beautiful residence has been given them by Mr. and Mrs. Simeon Price Sr. $ad e The engagement was formally an- nounced yesterday of Miss Leslie | Thaler Green of Berkeley and Howard Huntington of this city and Los An- geles. Miss Green is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Adam T. Green and a sister of Mrs. Frederick Bixby of Los Angeles, with whom she has been visiting for the last few weks. Mr. Huntington is the only sen of Mr, and Mrs. H. B. Huntington and is associated closely with his father in business. The news was made public yesterday in the home of Mrs. Ralph Phelps in Berkeley. Mead Hamilton was host at a bachelor dinner last evening. entartain- ing several guests. His marriage with Miss Mabel Dodge will take place this evening. Lake Tahoe will attract several San Franciscans this year. Among others are Mr. and Mrs. George A. Moore and Miss Carol Moors, who will leave the first of June. Mr. and Mrs. Adolphus Graupner have been in the beautiful region for several weeks. RN R Mrs. Fife and Miss Beatrice Fife have gone to Palo Alto for the summer. Their cosy home will include many visitors ring the outdoor months and Miss ‘Fife will entertaln a large number of her friends frequently. MERELY A VIRGINIAN. Two men in a yellow car on Penn- sylvania avenue were disputing about the proper method to find the eube root of a certain number, says the Wash- | ington correspondent of the New York ‘World. One held to one pian and one to another, and they became earnest. Senator Daniel of Virginia sat across the aisle cngrossed in his own thoughts. He was staring straight out of the window when one of the disputants leaned over and touched the Senator on the knee, saying, “Excuse me, sir, but are you a mathematician?” °* The Senator came out of his reverie with a start. “No, sir,” he replied with dignity; “I am not. I ama Vi i SHOES THAT COST $1000. Probably the most remarkable shoes ever produced within recent times were these worn at a function in Lendon the other day by a lady well known in society. In keeping with a gorgeous gown, which is said to have cost a fabulous sum, she wore a pair of shoes that were literally covered with flash- ing jewels—diamonds, rubies and pearls. The style of decoration was of a remarkably striking character. Five hundred dollars was the price of each shoe. Such decoration of shoes is a re- turn to the fashion of the middle ages, when extravagance and gaudy display were the chief characteristics pertain- ing to footwear, in common with oth- er things.—London Mail AT THE CLUB. “This magazine, ‘What to Eat,’ recom- mends eating fruit as a cure for the drink ‘habit.” “Nothing to it. I've tried it.* “What di@ you eat?” “Cocktail cherries. IN NASHUA. A sprightly young fellow in Nashua, Determined to throw all his cashua, Cried loudly: ha! Bring me pate de foie gras.” And disdainfully metioned the hashua. —Puck. claims as an individual. Every mother should keep this claim In mind. Her children will be the better for it. ————— Townsend's Cala. Glace Frufts, in ar tistie fire-etched boxes. 10 Kearny n:d new store now open, 767 Market “s Speeial information supplied daily to Press Clipping Bureau (Allen's), 30 Call- fornia street. Telephone Main 1042. * Puck. : i THIS IS WHERE YOU WILL FORGET YOUR TROUBLES FOR THE NONCE. Q ed, mamma?, 3 gollamma—Yot that I know of. Willile—Well, he always sits 8o close to sister when they're in the parlor. r