The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, July 27, 1905, Page 8

PRl L CCIDENTAL {T;il( D. sijd:ckr:x,si. . Proprietor | > ACCIDENTALS L | VT!:”,H!{féN(—)V:V‘;\V RKET FT;.E,,Eisi SAN ;R;\‘S('ISC(); By A. J. Waterhom 1905 THE GRAND JURY'S REPORT. | JURY'S W 1 Jury, after what was evidently a pai11<taki!1g exam- | whit by experts, has massed in a report the record the municipal administration. The report shows In several matters it leads up to the | And wherewever I may go, o'er unknown E stood together long ago and talked of what should be When all our ships went sailing forth upon the misty.sea; e ships of hope, or gray of doubt, or gilded barks of bliss— “Ah, we will sall them far,” 1 said, “’neath bluer skies than this, malad ion and worse. | seas %o gilde, . : 20 % (;nr\lf its in the personal conduct of mcn}bm of the rulx»ng | There shall you be, my bonnie one, still junta, where their official power protects the filthy and lucram'c“h ft':!thfuf S ell:ie-” e e i R g 1 = Ldas % i , time and tides have passed since purst of their favorites, who pay for protection b)‘ ballot-box then, yet still her whisper low stuffing and other crimes and offenses. Behind these closed doors, | Steals back to me through phantom years: “Where'er you go I go.” the imoral bu siness of a convict is kindly carried on by a city | officer, while his friend serves his time in the penitentiary. The rent | of another immoral resort is declared by the Grand Jury to be guar-| g, anteed by the Mayor himself. The report shows some of these things | that connect the politics of the city administration with the vices of the city This system is insepar I know “not well on what fair bark at first we safled away, sunny were our skies of hope and cheery was the day; And so we sailed straight on and on, hand clasped in loyal hand, | Through walls of mist to walls of mist, to find our Aidennland, evermore 'twas just ahead, and ever > 1 able from government by graft. Im- | | But moral politicians quickly learn the profit that is in the vices of | we would cry: large cities. When they gain control of municipal administration | “Toumorrow all the mists will fade and every rattle of the dice, every turn of a card and every sacrifice of | And st her white hand steered my | bark, by waves tossed to and fro, still 1 heard her promise “Where'er you go 1 go.” a poor soul in its degradation pays to them tribute. This system is in as full swing here as it ever was in New York under Tammany or in Philadelphia under Billy Mann's “Pilgrim Band.” N x- | flladelphi der Billy Mann’s “Pilgrim B "|i No one ex-| g antis my ship upon the sea through pects to purge large cities of their vices, but it is hoped that San mists of sullen gray, Francisco 1 ire a municipal government that is not an active | But she who sailed a time wjth me, she | : % i e 3 is away—away. partner in vice a business and a means of profit. A craft came sailing down the wind from And sweet. Where the activities of such a partnership are regarded as the | some vet hidden shore: incipal busin X and . : I‘- it . . ._g ‘The captain was both gaunt and grim, principal business and function of city officers, it is natural that | and cerements he wore. their legitimate duties should be regarded as a remote and incons quential side issue, deserving attention only when there is opportu- nity to make a little money on the side. So the report shows a | e i multitude of violations of the charter, amounting to i*npeachab)e!A"d (l;:; 5;2:‘,,’,'25?13:; ihi:fi;w' offenses. Moneys are not paid over, but are held out of the treasury | Sidce last 1 heard her whispered word, for personal benefit. The interests of the city are sacrificed to fa- | “Where'az JousH0 Liags vorites of the government in the matter of contracts. Rents due the city are permitted to run at the risk of loss, or when collected are held out. The duty of the Mayor to see that all the officers are faithful and that the taxpayers are protected from loss is left un-| done, and leaks, large and little, are dripping cash into dishonest | hands, throughout the whole city sytem. The reception given s report of the Grand Jury by the offi- cials concerned, and their organs, is as amazing as the facts it dis- | closes. The org: i the literary syndicate which the admin‘s(ra»; tion maintai ely denounced the channel through which | the report be as irregular. They discovered that the| | He beckored to my bonnie lass: “Come, | sail away with me, | Ana you shall reach your Aidennland be- | nd this restless sea, Ah me! My bark drifts in, my bark drifts out; it lacks her watehful care. |1 sail o'er seas of gloom and doubt, nor land is anywhere. Yet =till I trust that captain grim who bore my lass away, sotnd her Atdennland be- | mist of gray. | 8o drift, my craft, and lift, my craft, on billows mistward tossed: that now I miss, nor ut is forever lost, Ana some bright day—I know not when— T'll hear her whisper low: “Dear lov: we stand in Aldennland— | where'er you go I go.” | ———— | report w authorized. They were frantic because the particu- 1 ; Judge Saberior ot havente s licti § h1 4 ! ROUBLE with life es I've ffound it ar Judge of serior Court having jurisdiction of the Grand is thet the hull drammer’s in one act, | Jury 1 not issue permit for the publication of the report. When D“"" 11‘3 “}‘1‘0 ter know what's goin' | P 2 v : 5 il I ? .| ter be on In the next act. They needn't | all of their co ts were put in a_composite it appeared as their | ring down the curtain on my ’'count| opinion that t 1 Jury was guilty of a heinous offense by the i:hrmgh»-l ain’t that anxious. o PR 1 £ s i - : 7. .| The man that'll kill himself fer a wom- allege cg n of its report. The organs did not take | an is es big a fool es any ‘cept one. That | the trou it was irregular, nor to answer any of | one is the woman that'll kill herself fer | a man. Some folks b'lieves in ‘finitles in love, | but I take more stock in proximities in | it. I've noticed that the 'finity gen'ly | lives purty nigh nex’ door to the feller | | thet finds her. | Course I'm 'bleeged to the doctors fer | findin’ vaceine virus fer smallpox an’ in- sisun’ thet a feller hes ter take it wheth- er he wants to er not, but I 'low they'd | do more good ef they'd d'scover a virus | fer laziness an' dishonesty. Them dis- cases Is more gen'ral. | A feller Kin_fall in love at firs’ sight, | an' he kin fall in-a river at firs’ sight, | but he won't do either ef he don’s want They were noisy about the regularity of o divert public attention from facts to ’ the no difference whether that report came vised ior Judge, or whether it was blown out of a vagrant breeze. Interest in it goes to its sub- 1 d not to the channel through which it became inquiry made by the people is, are the sixty in that report true? If true, it is no to palter and jackdaw ‘about the body that made larity. In these matters the truth is always The Supe spec tions answer t the ter take some dum long chances. thet says miscellanyus charity is per- org ipal administration have not disproved a single i serobr, ot erge Bl > i 3 P Riles s thet ain n' an charge not- tried to disprove any count in the indict- },,i,:.:’;r‘s T i mer oved to quash only because it di ach | It Ao g e amovel 10 Qrae o e ek did ‘not" reach 0, sala the Sweet Young Kitty the p 11‘“ y the sacred seal of the Superior Court. If under | Cat, with a look of determina- | the seal of the truth it needs no other. Are the sixty specific charges | -~ tlon. *1 e o e s i 4 aorainat ¢ M o me a1 § b S iar LA H | Thomas.” - against the Mayor and members of the city government true? If not | " “why not?" the other Sweet Young all true, w are true¢ and which false? Let the organs or the | Kitty Cat inguired. “He is a cat of avor's b ok v £ e 2 SE | excellent character and is held in the Mayor’s Cabinet pick out any that are not true, and prove them | ery nighest esteem in the community. false }\\ hy. only nizht before last he was The primar Jectic is >s o2 & ¥ | presented with a bootjack, a clothes- A The primary electi n is near. It will fi.ucrmmc the clyaracu‘r | brush, a paper weight and two hair of the city government for the next term. The charges against the | brushes by some of the most prominent yresent government are publish the s ~ | citizens of this city.” present government are published on the authority of the Grand | “UI“CR S0 10 hut T shail never marry Jury. Do the people of San Francisco want to indorse an adminis- | him, My mind is made up.” tration that is | of the offenses charged? If they snub the | R ik e b skt primary and fail to do their duty, the administration and its red-|on our back fence and called me ‘Ma- handed offenses will be indorsed by default. What that will mean | Tier at the top of his volce for fully may be judged by looking at Philadelphia, New York, Chicago and | ha-‘-{v‘;“,h::_‘;z of 1t?" other large cities where graft has become fixed as a part of the duties | _“Why, he kiiows perfectly well,” sald of administration. What is revealed by the Grand Jury has hap- | i e Tl N o w;t:da::;: pened in the green stick. If it is overlooked what will happen in the ; is | ter sob, “that I both soell | nounce my name, ‘Marya.’” So it is all off with Thomas. dry? GIRL who signed her name ‘Alyce” N C Was haughty and as cold as yce. EW YORK’S HOT WAVE. ey il & ek faery i . x | Was sweet and gae, ANTHEISM, if it were a true philosophy, could convict July | Which shows that Mae was twyce as weather in the East of such horrible crimes that the spirit - of the hot wave would appear one of the greatest@monsters of | There is one man, and but one, who oes not necd to fear a fall. But nobody iniquity. The history of one hot day in New York, namely July 19; i¢ something at once for shuddering sympathy toward the peo- ple of the metropolis, and for strong gratitude that we pe that | i horror. It would be a most happy consummation if these two feel- | WHAT T ASK. § ings i mbi 3 b Aaaratte , & | ¢ T doesn’t take much for happiness: ing: nirm]u combine to stlfllulgle the invention of a remedy. | T A tittte bit more or a littie bit less; Even to briefly summarize the awfulness of the heat’s effect | A dollar or two for a ttme of need— . 1 fully awalk g 11 1 would ask, indeed RPN silv sl - T : | A very small sum I would ask, indeed— enoug| to fully waken sy mpathy. It takés a column of space t0 | torner somewhere with a welcome for give name and address of the dead and prostrated. A woman goes | e, mad under the torment of the weather. is ; the inning | A2 Wehin or Lua i ek At Sy Ane 2 der ; That is only the beginning | 1,16t Tor splendor that othars may of horrors in that ope house, for the crazed woman stabs her nine- teen-month-old baby with a carving knife. Another woman car- > e = 4 * x g v No more would I ask, save, to sweeten ries her baby, Helen, fi_\e months old, to the hospital to be treated | my lot. for prostration; the child had been dead two hours before she|A little bit more than my neighbor has started, but in the madness of her mother grief she refused to realize | o h it and took the corpse to the doctors to beg them to help it. A |No lordly ambition is mine. it is true. woman, finding the close air of her apartment intolerable, goes out |* **§ 2t F i G R e to Sl_ecp on a fi_rg escape. She falls thirty feet and sustains serious, A plain little home, and a plain, little possibly fatal injuries. Another, with mind affected by the heat, need envy him for his fortune very much, He is the man who is at the bottom and | expects to stay there. view; 1 ask not for gold—silver dollars will do. spouse (Of course, not too plain) to brighten the commits suicide by turning on the gas. house, Much of help has been given. The parks are thrown open to |* “‘;ngfl‘.hh' wiifione, Sow Mmnym the privilege of sleeping under guard of special police there. The |That is, if the thousands are mine quan- people seek the travel of the subways for the sake of just four de- |45 8 h'“l“' p SR » E relicf . B o | No more do I ask; no more have I wi..ed; grees of relief. T ancy that! A heat so oppressive that four degrees | My humble ambition is easily Stilled, of release from it is accounted a mercy and the sufferers hunt the | The glamour of riches entices me not— underground tubes to obtain it. The bathhouses are allowed to ij'n:& fmf've‘more Shan-sex telelier be used longer hours. As for the horses, the ever ready firemen turn the hose on the overcome ones. Thus also is helped the Si- berian tiger at the Zoo. He is one of the greatest sufferers in New York; never experienced such weather before, and wishes he was at home. The thought that comes to overtop all this is that such suffer- ing should not be beyond the remedy of modern science, Li ing in Ah, better, far better, contentment and peace Than promptings of avarice never to cease, And better, far better, with comfort your guest Y Than ave by the specter of envy pos- The man Who toils on till his millions are the age of Hertzian waves, of artificial ice, of electricity vastl | VR, - , of 3 y gen- |\ erated and easily brought from afar, of rapid transit, and of great e |‘:‘£:u:‘t“ PRENST Wha Mo apine general mastery of mind over physical conditions, it would seem |80 1 say, and I mean, that it's little I | crave, ' that inventive thought should be responsive enough to bring forth Y A little to spend and a little to save, the remedy from where it hid Aud having this much I'll contentedly ‘trot— 5 That 15, If I've more than iy nelghbor has got. 6 5 “It is always cool in the Boston subway,” superflously boasts a Hub contemporary, as if it could be anything else in- Boston over or under ground —New Haven Palladium. ———— News item says that Sag Harbor is seeing warships these days. 1In the good old whaling days, when rum flowed freely, it used to see snakes.— New York Herald ytovs eid's Cale cuccxp"m‘lu. in ar- c . oxes. ew SLOT S s ek ——————— % ~Special Information supplied dally to | appreciated her It's a middlin’ safe bet thet the feller |. fornia street. Telephone ose | | RURAL FRANCE HOME OF LOVE || By Dorot]fienimore. would be difficult to flnd a more suitable background for love mak- ing than the rural landscape of central France affords. Barth and rustic paradise. a lovely princess who is crowned with flowers and goes her way carelessly yet nobly veiled softly in a rosy mist. ‘Whether you follow the high road or the meadow path, presently you find yourself lost in a veritable tanglewood of sound and sense. Above the other bird notes .which thrill the air the cuckoo's call sounds clear, the cricket | chirps a home song at your feet, and in the neighboring clump of trees a woodpecker whistles for rain. To the right the river, at this point in its course no more than a creek, winds gracefully between sweet mead- ows, or under willow branches; farther . down, where it widens out, just beyond the small arched bridge, there is an old mill and a washhouse standing in the stream. To the right, at a dis- tance, the hill tops are outlined against a summer sky, and ahead are uplands ! which séem to touch the lightly float- ing clouds. Yet youth is absent from every cor- ! 1 | : Celeaiiiie s 1 PARIS, July 10. | +___________________..._——-————_'l' | THE MAKING OF A BENEDICT | IVERS is one of those fortunate R tellows who knows the Mortons well enough to run out for a visit to their country home without a spe- éal invitation on the pccasfon of each call. When he boarded the train across the bay last Sunday morning he ex- perienced never a fear lest the Mortons should by a chance be away from home. A dreamy Sunday In the country, filled with brilliant sunshine and perfumed sky combine their beauties to form &, .. 4)) the fragrance of the summer on the table before aim. In June nature wan- | po O ders down the fertilo river valleys ltke | was sufficient attraction to keep any one at home, if that home was an ideal one of shaded verandas, cool rooms and magnificent vistas of country. It was a long walk from the station up to the Mortons' home, but Rivers took it leisurely, surprise he was planning on| the Morton a hand In the game, taking from Rivers. He wondered idly wh there was no one on the verandas| h cided, as he tered up the walk He tried the scree door and found locked. Then rang the bell. ner of the scene, and without youth you cannot have romance. In the wide | fields where popplies flame in the wav- . ing grass, and where bluets nod lightly | mid the ripening grain, you see only old people working, bending their backs wearily beneath a double weight of toll and years. For all the young men are serving in the army. | And the girls have gone to Parls, or to some lesser city nearer by, not to earn a living merely, hut also, if pos- sible, to earn a dot. You cannot help feeling . that it sl a pity that strangers only, who are rarely in. a pleturesquely sentimental mood, have a chance to enjoy the at- tractive lovers' nooks that m ths neighborhood abound, the while the rightful owners are far away, plodding through the prose of life. ! In the village customs hereabout, however, a trace of the poety of the country life of former days remains in the crowning of the Rosiere, which takes place in early June. This is the occasion when - the most virtuous maiden of the parish receives a rose in acknowledgment of her goodness. and receives likewise a dowry, which has been provided either by the cure or by some kindhearted aristocrat of the countryside. E The crowning of the Rosiere is alway a charming festival, even though the rustic queen of virtue who has been chosen is homely, and utterly without grace of manner—which is usually true, of course, else she would not be so sur- passingly good. Dressed all in white, she g8es through the streets on the Mayor's arm, followed by a procession of white-robed maidens bearing gar- lands of flowers. With appropriate ceremony, the Mayor presents to her the crown of roses, the dowry which has been pro- vided, and possibly a little gift of his own, as a souvenir of the occasion. Sometimes the festival ends in a wed- ding, and the Roslere becomes the happy bride of some rustic suitor, who virtues even before they won her a dot. i * ' one was a 1éng time be-| answer. ensconced in one of the easy chairs - when the| butler opened th door. ) ‘The Mortans havej a regular story- book butler, on¢ who assumes alll the dignity that thi family put aside when they leave town. The comical expression of dis tenance Rivers. “Girls home?” asked. “No, sir,” said the| butler, “they have gone Into town. A sister of Mr. Mor-| ton is going to New York and the entire family has ganel over to the city and will dine at one of| the hotels.” “And there is no) at home?" ed Rivers. No one, sir.” “When does next train go?"” “Not until sir.” Rivers whistled. The butler hurrieq| on to say, “I know! that they will be very sorry that you——— —————f¢ hef ask the have found them all | He was lonely.. | | away. And I must; ask you if you will® not consent to stay here for luncheon. ! We will arrange it for you. Mr. Morten would not allow anything else, I am sure. Riy to luncheon,” “I certainly shall stay “And let ers laughed. he announced. I've saved me tell you that I am hungry. yesterday this country appetite since noon.” { When the butler had departed, Rivers | lolled back in mirthful enjoyment of the | situation. For the time being he was monarch of all that he sbrveyed. And here he was trespassing on the property ! of another, the recipient of hospitality a | 1tttle out of the ordinary. He found.the * pleasure of his own reflections more de- lightful than the novels and magazines | “Luncheon is served,” annmounced the | butler, as if a score of people were await- | ing his summons. Rivers took the place at the head of. the table. As he peopled | in his fancy the three Morton girls seat- ‘ed around the table, he decided that he ieyefl and black-haired, the artist of the family; there was Marcia, the langhter leving, a Jjolly good fellow: and there was demure Polly, of the flutfy organdies and coquettish glances. The butler won- dered why Rivers, the loquacious, had grown so silent. “Will you bring me a pencil. some pa- per and an envelope?” the young man | asked him as he poured out a glass of i wine. “And I am going in on the 3:4 When Rivers had gone thebutier stared quizzically at the envelope that was in- scribed “To the Girls.” He delivered it to the Morton girls that evening, and as he left the veranda he heard the shricks of laughter with which they read it. But | when they finished they were as puz- i had written: HE MAKING OF A BENEDICT. “Preamble. that it has been his money and not him- self that was being sought. of reverie has converted hi cynicism of his previous opinion.) “In the hotels, in the clubs, taurants, it has been my lot to eat alone. I have never seemed to, miss companionship at those times or in those places. But here it is different. Something is lacking here—a face, a voice to make the setting complete. must be the domestic atmosphere. “Whose face, whose voice should it 2 Whom would I rather see across Tom me twice a day every day of the sear, year in and year out? I shall con- yre up pictures of every girl I have #ked—there have been several of them. What a collection it is! “No, 1 shall not name them. -ould satisfy your curiosity, and, be- sides, I can keep a secret. Each and overy one of them has been sitting In the chair opposite since I wrote that ast sentence. And I have decided that ne of them is going to sit across from ne like that through all the years. Jang it, it's the only kind of a life for + chap. Those tales of the single life must have all originated with some fel- low who had been turned down proper- ly. Served him right, if he was such a grouch. “Not another year shall be gone be- fore I shall enjoy the dreams in real- ity. My Lady of the Dream, I drink to you! { “Well! said Elizabeth. | T " sald Marcia. said Polly. “Who is she?” asked Elizabeth. “Wonder if we know her?” soliloquized Marcia. { “Perhaps it's a proposal” suggested i Polly. | “But for whom?" asked all three. None can answer. W1l Rivers? Or | can you? T -+ ANSWERS TO QUERIES. BURROWS—J. .W. D, City. United' States Senuator J. C. Burrows of Michi- | gan, whose term ‘éxpired March of the | current year, was re-elected as a Sen~l ator from that State. SENATOR PERKINS—J. F. B, Santa Rosa, Cal. The home address of United States Senator George C. Perkins is Oak- land, Cal., and his Washington, D. C, address is Stoneleigh Court. BLEACHING—D., City. Yes, a per- son of rosy complexion can become bleachéd inside of two months by re- maining for that length of time in a room into which the sun does not pen- etrate. A PANAMA. “Ma, what is a_Panama man called?” 'Then what is a Panama woman?"’ “If she’s married and obeys President Rocsevelt she's just a plain Panama.'— Portland Oregonian. 3 : LE the lingerie style is the one. most frequently followed for the ex- lingerie materials. Such is the tion of French and English ide: ‘henrietta over the shoulders, and to puffy rows of shirring, the fitted lining of a sheer silk full folds of the material to the figure. The sleeve is " MIRROR OF DAME FASHION A PARISIAN PEIGNOIR, pelgnoir and other negligee gowns, there are others that while they press this style do not make use of the illustration, wherein a gown of SaXxe blue henrietta has a revere-shaped collar and a fanciful cuff in heavy white linen, dafhtily worked in a combina- There is a shallow yoke of the ' this the gown Is applied in somewhat ng to hold the a full and . loose puff caught into the cuff, an émbroidered frill being carried up the distance. back seam for rt dist tastening amfi» toward: the left The throat is cut in a V. side. shape, and the LIFE. (With Acknowledgments to George M. Cohan.) And have the measies and the croup, ‘We learn to whittle with a lttle knife Or play with dolis or roll the hoop: We play with tiny pistols, harmless toys, And eat green apples by the peck, And that is why so many little boys Are doomed to get it in the neck, For life's a funny proposition, after all. We hike to school and learn a lot, doubt, If we will study hard enough; And by and by our teachers turn us out | To face the world so hard add rough, And then we find how little that we know, How ,small the part we have to play, For we are not the whole thing in the show, But just a greenhorn and a jay, For life's a funny proposition, after all. no { And after while we fall in love, of course, And think the one we love divine; : We marry, then we ask for a divorce, | For that now seems to be in line; . Our dream of love is shattered and we H sigh ! And mope around a year or two, { And muybe wed_another by and by, | _The way a lot of others do, IFor life’s a funny propesition, after all. i Old age comes on and we are bent and gray, We totter sadly to the grave, i.\nd we are not so bright and blithe and gay | Nor yet so keen or quick or brave; ‘We have no teeth with which to chew the rag, Our legs are bent with rheumatiz; We have no breath with which to blow or brag, ‘We talk of was and not of is, And life’'s a funny proposition, after all. —Chicago Chronicle. THE TOUGH STEAK. Richard Harding Davis, when he was a reporter in Philadelphia, delighted to | disguise himself as a “tough” young man and to mingle with the odd char- acters of the Ninth street district of the Quaker city. Mr. Davis got to know this district with peculiar intimacy. Its prize fight- ers he knew especially well. Not sel- dom, in the gathering of some odd news item, he would accompany a third-rate pugilist to his cheap boarding-house and dine with him on the mest unpala- table fare. “I used to know one fighter,” said Mr. Davis recently, “who was a character, wit, a man of no mean intellect. “One day I dined with him at his boarding-house, a typical beoarding- house—one of those where the'land- lady sits at the head of the table and serves the dishes to the submissive pensioners ranged in two lines below T “My friend got a piece of steak that was full of gristle. Finding the steak intolerably tough, he began to amuse us all with burlesque attempts at carv- ing it. He turned back his cuffs and carved. Then he took off his coat. Then he held his knife like a chisel and pre- tended to hammer the handle with a bis- cuit. “The landlady, up to this moment, had been too busy serving to notice the pugilist's antics. Now she spoke up. g “‘Is there anything the matter with your steak? she said in a stern veice. 3 ‘1":: pugtlist smiled politely and an- swe) 5 “‘It is a trifle overtrained, m: madam; but really I never saw a muscle.’ "—San Antonio Express. Something New in Candy. Milk Chocolate was. lonely. There was Elizabeth, gray-, { zled as was he, for this-is what Rivers | in the res- | It | As squalling infants we start out in life | THE SMART SET By Saliy Sharp. — General and Mrs. Frederick Funston en- tertained a few guests at dinner last evening at their home in the Presidio. Yellow was the prevailing shade used in table decoration, flowers and candel- abra being used with tasteful effect General amd Mrs. Funston entertai Captain and Mrs. Perkins of the Pensa- | cola, Colonel R. K. Eva of Vancouver Barracks, Major Paxton, U. 8. A., and Mr. and Mrs. W. D. Culien. | | | | 1 | ! Perkins, who were guests last evening at a dinner given by General and Mrs. Frederick Funston, will to-day entertain aboard the captain’s ship the Pensucola. The affair, an elaborate luncheon honor of the officers of the Umbria, harbor. Captain and Mrs. s in m . | The wedding of Miss Ursula Stone Lieutenant T-zafel E. Shean will place in tne Philippines in the early Mrs. Charies B. Stone sailing from port with her daughter the last of Scp sember. and take s . Mr. and Mrs. Horatio F. Stell have | taken a tlat at 2414 Van Ness avenue near | Green street. Mr. and Mrs. Stoll have recently re- turned from Yosemite, where they spent a fortnight. .« e SR S Mr. and Mrs. Denis O'Sullivan arrived | in Boston Tuesday evening from London, land a very cordial reception awalted | them from many friends of the well- (The writer 1s a bachelor | o ol rer. of 34, who. It is sald, has refrained from |y apg Mrs, O'Sullivan left last eve- matrimony heretofore because of his fear | ning »r San Francisco, where a warm | welcome also will greet them, for, aside One hour | from the favor socially bestowed, the m from the | musical public is anxiously awaiting Mr. | O’'Sullivan’s appearance. R Lieutenant Joseph L. Topham, Thir- teenth Infantry, goes East to-day. He will take part in the divisién rifie and pistol competition to be held in Chicago in August. & g Miss Mitchell of lola, Kansas, is visit- ing her brother, Lieutemant Burton J. Mitcheil. Lieutenant Mitchell is still at Monterey in the home of Captain and Mrs. Bridg- | man, where he is convalescing from the injurfes recently received while driving with General Funston, their army vehi- cle colliding with a trolley car. o ‘9. @ Mrs. George Riddeil is entertaining her sister, Mrs. Orlando Bird Bidwell of Nor- folk, Virginia. Mrs. Bidwell was well known as Miss Leslie Tiiden in San Franeisco, and many old friends are welcoming her re- turn. - . Edward M. Greenway leaves this week for an outing at Lake Tahoe. -t Among the recent visitors at Hotel Rowardennan are Willlam Greer Har- ayer . Mr. and Mrs. J. Campbell Shorb spent the last week at Hotel Vendome. E. W. Runyon a visitor at the same | resort. rison and Samuel D. M: . s . Mr. and@ Mrs. Charles Fickert have re- turned from their outing in Central Call- | fornfa and are the guests of Mrs. Fick- ert's parents, Mr. and Mrs. John Herbert Wallace, on Gough street. | P e { Judge ama Mrs. Thomas J. Lennon of San Rafael are away on thelr summer | ¥acation. B — JUST SMILES He;Av. er; have you been in bathing? AND TAKES HIS NAME. Howell-That girl has made a big name for herself. Powell-How is that? Howell-She has married the Russian she has been afier so |ong. ’m(n“l’m 1