The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, May 28, 1905, Page 4

THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. her Funeral she does not e / 741 A s ~~FY FLEONORE E:HOEF | S e * u%@'fl‘\&\"j.‘ 4 «s’.{/h\_\\ ! : ,g o We will soon take her out, Johnie, and reward her for being so kind you." ws and her expression tola shows n as she steps into being ne, there's a funeral iteh the came in Neaver of sits rgin sweetness and b e the figure of a tie stony ne of that ad prompted aspira nerati rom crib more of the good s rattied, than a ic never misses Sure,” § terésted but pproaching the two the funeral notice on post back of Mr. Benson #0 nicknamed, owing fulfill the require- as the fatal dis- his strength) steady partr poin - T d his checks, and the got done bottlin’ him, and Sal's alms."” Memory the sympathetic gentlem, James St “Isn’s, her husband BE SIPPURZD ZZE ZHIZLF BY CARF 27 D 74 her brother, Harold Selton, ne was : knew his to both and > he would ke and clear the resurrectt Stanton’s was seemis cted fo lay in a mi window, but for a few min- tes as if dazed and, throwing off ‘the condition temporarily entered the *=Lore llere she would serk relief from, the burden of her thoughts, Don't let me disturb you, Miss o cd out upon entering the I sit down heére a few mo- aven in here. ral” permitted the ey e 5100 ton. door ments? It looks like & all these beautiful flow ess ple s the angels here,’ apprentice of scarce seven- toen summers, her remark mot unheard v the keen ear of the visiior Then how @id you get in her u fiit'e devil?” pame the ready zad impulsive reply. The hearty lzughter provoked by her ready wit was dying In spasmodic gig- gles, “But heaven feeds thoughts too beautiful to make light of. My little John and James are there.” The joyful circle was calmed to speechless silence as the mellowing voice touched the hearts with “Though like = wanderer the sun gone” tear-dimmed eyes, in puresess of love's memories, told of ime farewell of t and gentle, a brother fond true, 4 kind and good father or a tov mother. ¢ tall stately figure of the gentleman ppeared at the door and stood as if ranced as he drank with his soul the erful notes. The proprietress stepped toward him and, in a low tone, he briefly and fully told his missfon. Mrs. Stanton arosé from her cheir and walked quietly, ioping to leave the room unnoticed, when Miss Horton, addressing her, adked “Do you remember Mr. John Beason of Kendall with the demeanor of intreduction. *“Kendall was my home, but I only know one by that name, little Johnnie Bencon. He told me he had an ‘Uncle John' far away. It was his father, Mr, Alfred Benson, who “Alfred Benson!" gasped the husky voice of the inquirer. “Yes; but they came from Colton. He took a job pushing cars m the Eiston mine rather than have his falks hear of his misfortune. Poor little John is not expected to live.” And she noured her eympathies through her deepest sorrow. “Taint right for God to taxe him from SOGNNIE EXAFES papers and is all the comlort she has for little Johunie is only: But 1 guess the doc! a paying business to wait on poor- folks it don’t make much They got up a collection bury poor Mr. Benson, but nobody WHI\Slcn\un opened a' door on the right of and some say he'll find her way tp the podrhouse all care a ‘piil’ The clear cut, frank face of the anxious listener showed a death-like pallor. doubi remained as to relationship. why did they keep thelr misfortune a he silently asked. he arose from the chalr into twhich he sank from the shock, and, ask- ing to be directed, Mrs. Stanton complied .. Sl N R ks s o ZE - - <= dewnward and anxious step quickening, they sped, till almost breathless they stood at the mourpers’ door. “Oh, Al- fred!” he murmured. No reply to the seconi knock.. He opened the door and ked into the grief-stricken home. Mra the hull and addressed Mrs. Behson, who s seat:d cn the Ged beside her glck child. The trall arms were locked about her neck. “Oh, Uncie John!” the faint lips uttered, and afféetions were sealed with the welcoming’ kiss. "I prayed for you- ts come. Sdl's brought you to com- fort us.. Ged bless you, Sal!” Mr. Benson tcok the delicate hands from.the moth- er's neck and clasged the sick child to his hoart. “Let ‘us trust in God dear gled with joy, -slipped away and was gone. “It Is time to carry the milk,” thought she, and was, out of sight, while Béngon stepped out to call “Papa’s sone, soblied, and found relief only in pouring ‘1 dome all 1 rould, but T had 1t sepms poor mamma hasn't enough trouble without getfing me down. Papa and mamma dldn’t want you we were papa lost all his money in stocks after you warnin’ him." “Of, had 1 never spoken the word thought Mr. Bensen, “that perhaps L spurred the pride that bore my noble brother to his grave—pride that to get gick, too. e S SO N IS x w,('/‘w,“\ N < & ED THE W/SH THHD THE THBLE I BY BIS BIPILE. <~ o~ late to comfort you. You must get well now." “1 feel bettes already since you come, Uncle John,” the little fellow encour- aged. “We. will take care of mamma and Jennie, won't we?" “We will, Johnnie and T've come to help you,” he assuringly replied. “Where is poor Sal?” inquired the sick child. “She is awful good to me. When she heard ccmplaints that I couldn't get atound fast encugh she knew I was sick and was afrald I'd lose my job, se she went arpund to my eustomers and got a petition to do my work for me till I got well. Aln't she giod? She told wme she had a little boy like me, and if he was living she wouldn't be in the poorhouse. «But won't she be happy!” The pale face again lit up with joy as the true Christian soil was seeing a way clear in helping others, and everything looked bright to him once more. Mrs. Benson meanwhile was busy pre- frugal, meal, but pride he strong heart, she paring the prompted again by tI sald, as Mr. Benson appeared Im the kitchen: “We have scarcely anything in the house to eat since Johnuie has been unable to do the shopping. I'll leave you to keep house till I get back.” She felt the awful pain of destitution, but must hide it for her husband's sake. There was only one means to raise money —to pawn her wedding gng. She would make this sacrifice. Uncle John must not know all, she thought. Mr. Beason felt deeper and deeper the effect of the words he deemed a brother’s duty %o ex- press. “Jennie, let me take Johmni place in doing the errands,” he said. comifort and help my brother’s children is all the hope there remains in life for me and permit me, at least, my duty. I have hoped to spend the remainder of my bachelorhood Wwith you. Belleving you te be in Coiton, as Alfred did not mention the departure in his letter, I was on my way to visit you and stopped over here on business. Poor Mrs. Stanton had just returmed from the funeral, I be- lieve,:and I heard her sing. I had not forgotten the notes that once told me there was more in life than despair, and though instinetively convinced as to her identity, the complete change in her ap- pearance made it seem mest improbable 1 could see no traces of resemblance to the omce beautiful girl I beheld in the cholr in Grace Church. Jennfe, it is this poor, crazy woman who has again gulded me. else I had not found you.” “She hc- watched like a guardian angel over my Johnnie and,” she related, “loves him as her own, sinee he protected her from the insults of a crowd of roug boys and waded in to get her ball o knitting wool which they had thrown iu the mud, and with' which she was hop- ing to earn a few pennies for bread What a pity that her once beautiful life was made a sacrifice of,” she said, tak- ing up little Jennie, and the tears rolled down her pale cheeks. The 4an maiker Lastened, tiptoe, and asking John it he wisned anything, she leaned forward and kissed him. *I wiill return in a few minutes,” said Mr. Ber 1 on as he opened the door and was taking his best ocppor- tunity to do the act of love. “Hurry, Tncle John!" the child voice galled. The heart-broken relative gave vent, for the first time, to his own grief, but found strength in the responsibility of the be- reaved and heipless. The sensitiveness from his own refinement plapned the deli- cate means of bringing e necegsaries of life to the table of the poor. The little invalid showed such improvement that the mother, encouraged and hopeful, in turn, produced the marked effect upon his spirits. Johnnie's.expressed wish that the dining table be set by his bedside was being fuifillea when Mr. Benson returned with the provisions. Jennie's eyes grew large as the full-blown bluebell and bes gan to show Inclinations toward congeni- ality. Mrs. Benson was soon preparing the dinner while Uncle John interested the eager listeners with bright stories. A different spirit hovered over the sor- row-burdened family as they sat down to partake of the plain but plenteous feast while Joonnie was being served first. “God has sent you to us to cheer us, Uncle John! 1 wish poor Sal would come now, wouldn't she emjoy this?™" “We will invite her when she comes, Johnnie,” said Mr. Benson, sanctioning the open-hearted invitation to his heip- mate. A little later was heard a knock at the door and Johnnie's prayers were an- swered, for there stood Sal. The happy expression on the drawn, sallow face came like the morning sun- light into the sickroom and told her extreme joy at the sudden and fortu- nate tide of affairs. Ob, you've come, Sal!" said Johmnnie, with the fulluess of delight; while the unanimous and cor- dlal invitation showed Im “sit right down and join us!" Sal first stepped to John's bedside and placed in the littie white hand the month's salary in full. To the young mind it was like striking a bonanza. “Sal, we will buy our own cows some day, won't we? You take some of this,” he said, offer- ing generously; but her scrawny, claw- like hand closed filled hand of the receiver. Then she moved to sit down to the table. Sal seemed the happiest woman in the world. What a feast, she thought. “My! this tastes awful good. because I can eat with you. Jehnnie. You must stay, Sal; we want you here always,” sald John “3 = take the best care of you. Johmnie, she re- turrded, looking sympathetically at him. e eéver had a husband,” DI# poor mother now, when there are lots by accompanying him, saying, “I can't ones. We mu: > st Bear up for one anpther.” the ties of confidence and makes me the Why did God take him. [ wonder, when .y, - eill be ded t ol now swaying fgure, ©f Worthisss boys wouldn't be missed. He tell you exactly, but I'll show yo . T o W ; My B Py Silence reigned, made boller by the wretched penitent.” he is so kind and helps everybody all on Johmnte, Mre. Stanton,” enjoined Mr. her simultaneously and Supported the family and bought the “Ho!” shouted a demoniacal voice, like words, deep from the mefher's hearts “I The little invalid saw the affecting sor- she can? I hope 1 will earn emough to son SIE - Nis vesal Selel . @l ally corrected: *“It was Jim Medicine for }11. sick fatner out of what a thupderbolt upon his ear. “Sai's caught have faith.” ot row by the hcaving bosom and cuddiéd take her out of the poorhouse some day. fiz:: ;'mulmnew,ly Pladning for h:‘_ Stanton. he earned by carrying milk and news-.on, sure.” Wordless, with eyese cast Mrs. Stanton, sobbing i sorrow min- his’ hepd closer. “Datling, 1'm rot too It seems ncbody carcs for her because . y5e for the remainder of hew life. s the ,iffil}}f’;,bf,r B:?:::‘us - . b A~ VBt © liave o Feport” she said, and to the ide 3 e W . p: A E 2 as he left the m,o,muuns RS. RRY 8. NEW, wife of ness. Belng a woman of superb their elegance, hdwever. .- Her man- east aside, however, for domestic life, book oublished about eight years ago :":““'s sz"e""d,dl !Pe _'_'“m',“ e vas lost In the crowd. the acting chairman of the physique, the work does not make any ners are charmingly gracious and she which has proved so happy that there under the title, “A Woman ‘Reigge.” ( fiection o 4 poorholise. T will at- James nton had wooed the fair Republican National Commit- . Special demands on her and ‘& day on is an acquisition to thuse parties at has mever been any thought of return- ~ “I have mo plans whatever.” sald tend te that. Mrs. Stanton,” intercepted Graee Sel lured her from home and tee. is one of the champion the links is merely an invigorating ex- which she is induced fo assigt the mi:o the stage. Mrs. New the other day. “I have been ) Mr. Benson modestly, yet proudest at to ruin her lfé through EON Blaemit Soseien IR ercuhre; New is a firfa beilever in the ho;ltess. ial t and grace i find; s‘hN“{ LS T“!‘:eme:uc turghan‘d e ;n‘filr 3 :t:;xx‘lws‘ilsm:g:r mrne- e e S o S bt ') w - i n v er rare social tact ani ce is no ds her pleasure in her e. e is year ard will res 3 - “Now, B B his debauchery and finally showed mer- m‘;:"_‘“:l'; Z'z‘ferf&ii“a'éii.i“':i‘ifi ©on- beneficial effects of golf from the doubt due in pmv;o Her sthge traln’ fond of study and at ohe time 1§ known yone that I have no plans. No, I have c,u::,w g 2o ::“;:";:n‘::.s;',‘i s cy, comparatively, in committing her( .. = gy - and she has health view point. That she belleves ing. Although short it gave promise to have cherished literary ambitions of no social campaign in mind.” 5 2ok and bl tha »e up o5 tho tassnd ssylum And Ber twe fiitle k‘:“ht" { ,'?03 ed in champlonship it to be a noble game has been proven of developing into a brilliant ¢areer. her own. During'the fime that Mr. Mr. and Mrs. New recently returned( ™7 and Mt the Benen shililiren th the orphmmhad ‘ANENWALY) . Mie Beber. o ; i ; oy 1o their Indisnupolls Home after enjoy-) “Oh, Sal. you've brought.our Uncle ¢ X ge. e Many handsome chempionship tro- POODN OLELOGOLON G L LT TN SOLLBLGOGE ing the outdoor life of oyr Callfernia jJohn to us!” again enraptured John. Fate passed judgment, for he was kjil- | phies have been won by Mrs. New, s 2 2 winter. Fart of their summers afe(-wWell, he ran after me first,” sh ed in a fray by one of his own class. and have found place in her home. spent at = Ashing lodge in an isolated r-“_led- - 5 _m“ Est.” she cor- Her prayers were answered when( ¥er athletios " “ve been for several . p 4 ‘ pluce, whers Mra. New lives an fdeal ) ot°S With @ mischievous twinkle in her little omes were restored to her( ) ShrS Of more absorbing interest to 3 : 1if6 for a few weeks in commupion ( NeT €¥e. “But isn't it good that he's arms and the chariteble. of the com. )il Than sotisty sfflry. Alost praty ; - A = > with nature and fishing a ltttle by way { come! He's got money, too. I thought m- ) day, when the weather is favorable, A N N N PP 500 PISS505505 A OGSO of recreation. about you saying you had am uncle and maybe you was teo" proud and that's why you got separated.” A little later Mr. Bemson returned with a new valise filled with as many other pieces of Sal's wardrobe as he could carry. 3 “We'll get the rest to-morraw. won't we, Johnnie?' he said as he laid then on_the foot of the sick bed: munity bullt for them & cabin in which ) Mrs. New may be found at the Coun- : g3 v % - S L < 4, . ¥ summer, during the Presidential the little family lived, and Mrs. Stan- \try Club golf links, where she i{s one from her own keen enjoyment. _ Her marriage to Mr. New put an end New was actively connected with news- m;.i‘ktn. when Mr. New's dutles kept ton supported it by taking in washing, ( Of the most persistent and indefatig- ‘WhHile Mrs. New is one of the prom- to all ambitions in that direction. paper work his wife was a frequent him in Chicago, mi:s wife spent the time John and James were shortly after(Able plavers. She has established ifiunt social leaders of the Hoasier Her professional life was of one sea- contributor of verse. Her work be- in a hotel of that city. She afterwasd stricken *with diphtherla and let the ) CSOFdS among the women golfers of capital, she Is not a devotee of the so- son's duration only. She possessed a came vefy well known. It was con- confessed that it had beem a trving Sother of & Sty il M I ; Indianapolis. Every summer she clety life. She Is interested in more fine voice, and after a period of study fined to short poems that found ready time. as she Is tog much interested In - 8 O] sea of ( mnkes frequent trips away from home ‘serious its, and of late ‘has not in New York decided to adopt the light acceptance. She was also the agthor the management of her beautiful home humanity. The report of Mrs. Stanton’s ) to take part in teurnaments. , opened home for frequent entér- opera stage. Before the geason, was of some cleve:%or‘ stories. A dum- to care for hotel life, and begrudges the death was copfiicting with the sight| Mrs. New’s work is noted for bold- tainments, Her affairs are noted for over the allurements of the stage were ber of the latter were gathered intc a time spent away from it. bLefore Mr. Benson’s owd eyes. With < 3 A £y = o