The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, January 30, 1906, Page 8

THE SAN FRANCISCOCALL .Proprietor D. SPRECEKELS....c0c0ce0e =+ ADDRESS ALL COMMUNICATIONS TO | “eesveesses. . Manager TTHJRD AND MARKET STREETS, SAN FRANCISCO ol JOEN FOHN McNAUGHT THE ,SAN FRANCISCO CALL, TUESDAY, JANUARY 30, THE FARMERS' POWER. AL \IA land is coming into its estate. C f our riculture and horticulture, remoteness from market and the difference in seed time and harvest between this State : esented obstacles that discouraged cultivation of the except to pply local needs, which were limited. In the flush here was a market in the camps, which encouraged ply it. When the gold output of the State in one year , the men that tilled land, and such were few, got product that made them rich, ion continued until the sharp decline of mining car- wn with it, and land became a burden. Then rail- touch with markets, and rural industry began nce. California land products began to share in the ade, and farming has risen steadily in importance, 1 methods and intensive farming are bringing our s the finest in the world. We are sharing in the s that is in progress all over the country, and are the average of that rise. iuct of the United States now exceeds that In the beginning ntry in the world. The hay crop of 1905 was valued SH02.000.00( cotton, $575,000,000; wheat, $525,000,000; -o0ats, $282,000,00¢ tatoes, $138,000,000; barley, $58,000,000; tobacco, | $500,000,- We s, $665,000,000; poultry products, cackled and laid 20,000,000,000 of eggs. farm products. last year furnished the capital to start 1/34 all for the service of rural communities. The strial prince and the California farmer is a 1ers are 35 per cent of our total popula- 1 by the members of any other vocation. A le of California are farmers. They have ion, to control any policy they may choose 1 the State or nation. We are accustomed to read ssmen and legislators passed by organizations These expressions are indulged in He is ignored entirely. No one asks interest or dgam\t it. Some day the h >s, wake up, organize and go into-th¢ business themselves and for themselves. They will stand | hey want at the polls, and the dealers in city resolutions will | ill be startling. | our cities being under the eye of the press is| The increase in our rural popu- settlement and cultivation of the land are | Crops of all kinds increase. The | t to manufacture cars fast enough to carrv to market. The distant consumer of the spe- inks of us and our land every time he eats an . P , pear or grape. In other days we all saw ow skin of an orange. When we sparingly partook | isins we had visions of the far Dehazas, and dreamed t of the sheep. The Moor and the Cid lived again xury. Now all of this uséful sentiment turns to Cali- We export our sunshine to the East in our fruits. When men good and sound, it is from California, and the libation is to France. | r that as a result of this silent mission of our | to come and be producers of the things | that they have consumed. California is| 1 every day by millions of people in the East, and they evidences of our ‘climate and soil with relish, and are ne and see, to admire and to stay. The advance of our onse to the rural advance and growth. California st inducements in the world to land buyers and 1, provided they buy so prudently that the land value increment from their labor. No prudent investor | raw land the price that it will bring when im- do, his margin is discounted in the first price. But perly 1ght and tilled, the land of California promises the quick- : and the greatest pleasure in earning it of any land dairy prod 1s last year ¢ 00,000 of 1ers banks, N o cities. with pride. in their results. > led DEMOCRACY IN RUSSIA. genius for local self-government is the reason given ~donostseff, ex-procurator of the Holy Synod, for its ght that Anglo-Saxon races should govern themselves, of that natural genius as sufficient cause for with- vic liberty from the Russians. A letter from him pub- 1 the Cosmopolitan, under the apt heading of “Delusions of " expresses the political faith of the man who for a long been the leading exponent of the extremest views of ex: )sence 1 be 1 to the ultimate triumph of universal liberty to autocrat’s plea that the right to freedom is-a- question heredity, and thus by a sort of begging of the question de- overnment to all races who have not yet obtained it. that this nation could not exist half free and half slave ght be extended by saying that the highest ]\1"(‘<\ of the world cannot exist while half the he other half serfs. It is wisely pointed out to that democrats do not think that happiness can be by the establishment of an elective assembly, but the es- g is to give men the liberty to think for themselves. s the whole secret of the recent temporary setback of e cause of democracy in-Russia is that the procurator of the Holy »d and the other autocrats of like mind have for centuries heen he people what they must think instead of allowing them to 1k for ghemselves. They have been denied the right of such ex- in freedom as would develop mental manhood, and out of that ess lct slip the recent opportunity for freedom and so fell back barative slavery. The imedy is the gradual exercise in fent thought which will i.e developed by the douma, if that is real freedom and not a formalit free and t ples are FRUIT TRANSPORTA;ION. HE licity given by The Call to the private car line system T has borne early fruit. The Armour lines and the Santa Fe have reduced the cost of refrigeration and carriage 15 per cent, which eans a saving to the fruit growers of $100,000 on the amount of t year’s shipment by the Santa I“¢. The two companies have also red into a compact to stop rebates. It is believed that these es have been given by the private car line, and its anomalous status made the practice difficult to stop without further legisla- But the line has felt the weight of public sentiment, and volun- fts from our producers the burden of unequal rates. The magnitude of the reduction from rates that once prevailed ay be seen when the new rate of $82 50 per car is compared with he pioneer rate of $175 per car, or the $140 per car rate that was id within five years for refrigeration to New York. * The policy direct shipments is also in sight. Fruit will be billed from the iginal station. That is to say, Fresno fruit in the statistics of pro- uction apd transportation will be credited to Fresno and not to Sacramento. If this is accomplished, the State Board of Trade will have again benefited the producing communities.* It publishes the only statistics of production, and as these are obtained from the transportation records they do not represent the individual commu- | dream which lasted—well, N i} ‘!L"lh\\ [ OW did the H rarebit fiend A happen? ‘What can I say about him? % Well, as theauthor of “Dreams of the Rarebit Fiend” I have been asked to tell about my work in connection with this “justly cele- brated” comic se- ries. How the rarebit fiend came into ex- istence is abolt as easily explained as it is to tell how a Patagonian field became full of Scotch thistles. I fear I cannot tell the whole story in the space that this paper will permit- unless it should decide to run it as a serfal for a couple of years. But it will not, and 1 don’t blame the editor—so I will be brief, merely hitting the high places in presenting the sad tale. In the first place, I am not a funny man, I am not a humorist. I am a plain, ordinary newspaper artist, and that is distinetly a sad affair. * = | HIS DREAM OF LONG AGO i e - + I woke up about ten years ago from a as long as I can rémember. It was a dream that I was to be a ‘master” whose work would hang on the lire a dozen centuries or so henca. My mother used to tell me I was a clown. She knew me better than 1 aid, I guess, for I have since discovered it to be only too true. I love the serious side and have done considerable work along that line. Nof No! Nothing worth mentioning, but just enough to acquaint myself with the fact t or never will be a “master.” 1 would rather picture a man falling in battie than one falling down stairs, They are both falling, but there is that funny something about the man falling down stairs that I can't keep out | of the battle scene. 1 once painted an oil of a man dying of lhlrsl in Death Valley, and almost every one that visited the exhibition turned away from my sad picture with a smile. 1 asked an old critic what caused the mer- riment, and he replied, “Because it's fun- ny; the dying man looks like he is kid- ding."” From that on I have bgen drawing a sal- ary as a comic artist. 1 feel so flustered and fidgety about re- ceiving the great honor of telling how I came to draw “Dreams of the Rarebit Fiend” that 1 hardly know how to start. I can now realize how other “great” au- thors and artists felt when ecalled upon to tell their troubles, too. However, about a year 2go, when nothing disturbed the calm morning air except the noise in the street, the machinery in the pullding and the yells of the other employes going to and fro in the halls, my brain gave birth to a tiny idea. I blew in its face and it opened its little eyes, and it blinked at me. Swathed in flannels, I tucked it away and began a system of coddling and ca- resses that threatened my health. After one week's nursing he was able to go and see the editor. If that gentleman had used that word which causes so much pain in this world, and which has givem~ me so many pains, that cruel word “unavafl- able,” this great universe would have never known of this great rarebit fiend. Although on wobbly legs and covered with pin feathers, he made quite a showing, and the next day the paper’s readers knew that he had been born. At first his bed was in my card case, then in a stamp drawer. He soon grew so that from a shoe box filled with cotton he required a soap box filled with sawdust under my desk. I fed him regularly, groomed and petted him fondly and exhibited him semi-weekly, while he kept on growing until to-day he reaches from coast to coast both ways. I have partaken of Welsh rarebit (I know the preferred spelling is rabbit, but artists never could spell any more | than great men can write, so let it go as it happened to begin) on several occasions with hospitable friends, but not often enough, fortunately, to be- come addioted to the habit. It was not thelr magnanimity that jnspired the birth of this monster now. prowling throughout the land, but the tales my friends told of the dreams they had had after retiring that made him a possible quantity. 5 H oy I ‘I’]llnm “u !Ih Mn iuff BY “SILAS"” (Winsor McKap). _1. Author of the “Dream of the Rarebit Fiend.” About the time that my pet was shedding his baby teeth apd his mouth looked like an unfinished subway en- trance, I inserted a note inviting the public to send in their dreams. In tell- ing this I not only modestly confess my utter inability to furnish food to him, but also/ulat the public assisted me by sending’in thousands of good ideas in nourishing my child up to the propor- tions he has now assumed. or which I am so thankful that to express it would require pages. — While I prefer to stick to facts, in this case, for the old lady’s sake, I treated the subject tamely compared to what my correspondent reported. The real situation was the old lady had twelve married daughters and their twelve husbands formed a lynch- ing bee and—well, it was cruel to draw. But do you know, I have had that “dream”! pronounced at least twenty- five times by married men—who, how- €ver, were particularly confidential in their manner of expressing their ap- B - 3 | DREAMS FROM EVERYWHERE | B - . — As 1 said before, T am an illustrator. One newspaper artist is sent to a big fire, another to a banquet, another to a railroad wreck or murder. I am as- signed to illustrate the rarebit dream of some poor unfortunate in Hobolken, N. J.; Kokomo, Ind., or San Francisco. | If the dream is funny, that is not my affair. It is the public who is respons- ible for those awful dreams over my cignature and not L. I merely tell the story, like any other newsgatherer or reporter. Some people take these dreams seri- ously. They all should. A dream is no joke. It is a condition {n the mind of a sleep- - b - = 3 ing man which, if it existed when he was awake, would land him in the psy- chopathic. ward. The most dignified person will, while innocently slumber- ing, pass through an apparent and life- like experience that he awakes weep- ing, perhaps; perhaps shrieking or laughing over some Incident of his dream. A man comes home early from church, perhaps, and without malice aforethought partakes of a luscious rarebit and retires for the night. Three or four hours later he is fighting like a demon with hundreds of hungry Igor- rotes who seek him for the succulent rib roasts, steaks, chops and broilers which comprise his generazl makeup. Not until he bumps his head or barks his shins on some near-by furniture does he awake and breathe a sigh of relief. Then I come along looking for an item for my paper. ko ST 3 'XL HURTS THE RAREB.T BUSINESS | . 3 All is not rosy, though, with me. I have been unmercifully condemned by some for, as they declare, driving peo- ple away from rarebit emporiums. Others say, “Rarebits do not make one dream.” My only reply is that I am in the hands of the public. Mrs. — surely would not deliber- ately lie to me when she writes that after eating a rarebit she dreamed that her husband used her biscuits for pa- perweights down at his office, and that he had a trained wart hog to do his shorthand work. The dream of the young man who could not keep from laughing, try as he might, when his mother-in-law was being hanged, brought down on me the wrath of one Mr. - to whom I can only say, “I did the best I could with that dream.” An Ealy Maniage Is a Man's Best Insurance Policy. 'BY DOROTHY FENIMORE. : preciation—as being -the best dream I ever drew. I could say volumes about the odd letters. I get. The queer dreams and commetits on dreams that come in daily have convinced me that the people like i and look for the “Rarebit Fiend." It is | & very reliable news section of the pa- per. I try to put the facts just as I receive them. I shall stick to the truth, The “Dream of the Rarebit Fiend” is !no joke, satire or burlesque: it is a plain, ordinary every night occurrence in our daily life illustrated and pub- lished for the public goed. v = o 11 HAIR-RAISING DREAMS i 5 | | I g0 at my work as serlously as my co-worker down the hall who is writ- ing the obituary notice of some great political organization. I might occa- slonally be deceived: some one might send in a dream—a hair raiser—who, instead of eating a rarebit the night before, had caten sauerkraut dump- lings. In that case I innocently do the rarebit a wrong. I have enough letters stacked away to pad a carpet for the State of Texas telling me I spell the word wrong; that it should be “rabbit.” 1 wish people would be a little more considerate of my young life. Poor spelling is an ar- tist's prerogative. I may as well say a few words as to how I feel during-the time I am at work on a dream. I first am over- come with a strange bearing down on my shoulders. A something seems to push me to my desk. I may be gazing out of the window, but my mind is far away. I resist gently at first as the de- sire to gaze possesses me, but presently 1 find myself struggling with this something with no small effort, when my boss will appear on the scene and say, “Get busy.” I then sink into my chair with a somewhat pained expres- sion and mechanically reach for 'my pencil and go to work. Yes, I do feel my work. I put my heart into my drawings and act them in imagination as an actor might. Thus when I am illustrating a man having his skeleton pulled out through his mouth by a dentist you can imagine the terrible sufferings I endure. ‘When I draw a man frantically dodg- ing some monster green baboon every muscle of my body is in full tension. If I am making a man laugh I grin like a pet fox; If he scowls, I scowl also. The result is I am as busy as a man with eczema counting money. My face looks as though I had St. Vitus' Gance, my hands working like a shuttle-cock and my feet doing a sand ilg. Yes, occasionally I laugh at my own work, but it'’s more hysteria than mirth., When I have finished I am blue in the face. I am then taken in charge by my trainer, who, with a bottle and sponge, quickly revives me. I am dlaced in the sun to bleach out. My book, “Dreams of the Rarebit Fiend,"” which is now on the market, promises to add to my millions consid- erably, as I expect every man, woman and child to buy one if they have the price handy. I am almost tempted to believe u man would steal enough money to purchase one of these books. Libraries throughout the country will do well if they send in their orders early, thereby avolding any panic which might occur at their doors. Mr. Car- negie, I am told, expects to throw in a carload with every new library. I hope so. In conclusiop I will say for the rare- bit it is a great game. The lady who can make a good rarebit might have to chain her husband down when sleep comes to him, but, like glue, he will stick to her through thick and thin. b e e HAVE been asked many times wheth- I er I am an advocate of ea.rly mar- riages. I am. Nine-tenths of my readers probably expect me to present arguments to prove what a boon early marriages are to our young girls. It {s the usual thing among us women whenever the subject of mar- riage is brought up to look at only one side of it—to talk about the advantages or disadvantages to the girl. The aver- age woman is selfish, and women as a class are selfish; hence perspective is apt to lead only to the woman in the case. So, although I maintain that early mar- riage is a good thing for the girls, I ad- vocate it for the sake the men. An early is a man’s best insurance policy, and an early start on the road to prosperity and comparative contentment are its accruing dividends. But the pros- perity part savors of a sordid money view of the case, and is not what I am get- ting at. £ e This country Is suffering !rom too much bachelor. And the cause is the fact that the man over 30 is treated too well by the women. A man that is not caught before he is 30 is hard to tame, and from the way he Is used it is & wonder the rule | paj once a bachelor always a mhlm- does mnot prevail. It must be heavenly to be a I‘dulor. is welcome everywhere. He 1s a sort of “immune.” He can linger on the border- land of love and carry flirtations with ties where the fruit is produced, but the central station from which it is billed. In responding to the demand of Fresno for better treat- nent the board cleared its skirts and showed that direct shipment would remedy the evil, and set sheut securing that policy, a score of women and fi’ He is Jooked upon as an object of awe, @ thing to be adored—way beyond his deserts—because he is supposed to have _successfully battled the storms and con- quered the calms of sentimental seas. He is an idol on a pedestal that women seem to think they can worship unseemly without fear of its coming to life. He is an idol that can convincingly feign emotion without feeling it; he is clever enough to forestall seriousness, yet blase enough to stimulate effort. ' He comes near (when not too old) hav- ing his own Way with the women. In short, he s too well used. And right here is where I wish to make my w“‘ and show that the young man approach- ing bachelorhood should be saved from himself by being led to the altar._ For why should such a man as I have described, one who has passed over the border into the land of general a be expected to tle himself to one when that would mean denying stony, narrow path of matrimony, devot ing himself to one who h ‘more than hllf the time in the ~curls in 1Y j number of households presided over by gracious hostesses are open to him when- ever he chooses to enter. N Fortunate man, the bachelor; and on the face of it he would seem to have Iit- tle need of a wife. But he has. The modern bachelor is superfluous. He has no utility in the scheme of life, and to rid soclety of this man who is too well used is one of the main reasons why I advocate early marriages. PADEREWSKI—A. R. T. C, Pinole, Cal. Ignace J. Paderewskl, the planist, was born in Poland in 1860. SNORING—P. F., City. If a sleeper ;'v.hoku .ign to u::rlng will on retir- 8 kee e mout vhled there not be n’ny ln*hm s H.ARBOR 1m waer. Cfly The jurisdiction of the State Board of Harbor Commissioners in San ;:umlm’.ta from the cast line of the itary r-mum nfl, 4—.--..._.. and southerly along SAMOA AND HAWAII—W. G. Petaluma, Cal. - This A ‘hances there are in the &mm Islands or the Hawailan Isl- States E o | wdentals BY Al WATERHOUSE [ —_— WHEN ROGERS TOOK THE STAND. And he laughed “Haw, haw!” as he HEN H. H. Rogers took the stand, I And highly amused was he, said, “This law Is a thing that tickleth me.” And they asked him questions one, two, three, And they also asked him four, And they asked him questions five and six, And they asked him several more. Then Rogers he winked his right, right eye, And his left, left eye winked he, As gayly and blithely he made reply In manner extremely free: “Which your questions tire, And the same I fire Back to the legal shelf, And T'll not reply S To a one, not I, For I am the Law mysglf.” Then the Judge hfl looked at the law- yer man, And the lawyer ‘man eyed the Judge. And they said, “Ah, me! Can these things be Ju the game of Judicial Fudge?” Then they heaved a sigh as they wiped an eye, And they muttered, “Al And they queried more than done before, To hear what His Nibs would say. Then Rogers he chortled a blithesome chort, And he laughed in his golden glee, And we guffawed twice, and he gave a snort, Ere merrily answered he: “To the deuce with law! 'Tis the gloomy maw For losers in games of pelf. Let your questions rot; I will answer not, For I am the Law myself.” ackaday!” they'd Now I do not know how the game will run, For the cards are hidden from me, And many a curious trick is done As they're dealt, we often see; But I know that the Right is always Right, And Justice is Justice still; She has just one coat for the poorest wight and the man of the laden till; And I know, though the mills of jus- tice grind An H. H, Rogers fine Or prove to his blunt defiance blind, As they would not yours or mine, There will come the day, And it's on the way, When never shall Justice hide, And she will not sleep, - But_her pledge shall keep, ‘While none shall the Law o'er- ride. FABLE OF THE LITTLE BOY. Once upon a time, déar children, there was a little boy whose excellent parents wished him to be a very good little boy, indeed. So they taught him to regard their One Day (which was not the same day as Neighbor Jones’ One Day) as glcomily flncred and to go to church twice and Sabbath-school once on that day, and to visit the cemetery if his vouthful spirits demanded recreation then; and not to attend the theater, for it was carnal; nor to play cards, for they were sinful; nor to dance, for theé feet of thase who danced trod upon hades. Oh, you bet that, with- the best intentions in the world, they made his life one long, glad holiday of snuffles and regenefation —1 don't think. Now, it so happened that this little boy had in his veins red blood, which he prob- ably had inherited from some unregener- ate and shameless ancestor. And so it chanced that as he grew up he discovered that the very things he most desired to do were those which his excellent parents had told him not to do, and I would bet a week's salary against a little red wagon that he did them all, too. Yes, he cer- tainly did! In the first place, some bad little boys whose parents were sinful taught him how to play cards out In the haymow; then a very pretty little girl of wicked parentage taught him how to dance, and if he hugged her harder and longer than he would if they had not been alone—well, is not that the way of the world, my children? I have heard so, although otherwise I do not know. Then, as he graw older, this little boy sneaked away and went to the theaters, and when he returned home he told his exemplary parents that he had been at a meeting of the Young Men's Christian Association. Of course, this was a wicked lie, but re- member that you do not know his parents. So this little boy journeyed on to young manhood, and after he had got there he sald to himself: “Well, I have busted righteousness wide open. I have played cards and danced and visited theaters, ‘and mine is a lost soul anyway, so I may as well have the benefit of all the fun there is going along the Primrose Path.” And you bet he had it! Oh, you may be sure it was shocking, the way he had it! But wisdomecomes with years—to a few people—and so after a while this little boy, now a man, realized that there might be a distinction between the good of God and that of man, between morals manu- factured in heaven and those ground out on earth. He recognized this distinction, I say, and, I hope that he has profited and will corltinue to profit by the recogni- tion. But, whether he does or not, there remains the— ~ Moral—If we pile too heavy and glhomy a load on the shoulders of the boy we should not be surprised if he shakes it oft when he is big enough and strong enough to do so. “Snifkins says that he has been born again.” “Well, considering the job he made of it the first time, I don’t blame him." “I don’t know what our housés of worship are coming to.” “What makes you say so?” “Why, a -miserable fellow in clothes sat right behind me in church last Sunday.” “Yes,” sald Life, “Senator Depew is a very fine man, but I find it difficult to teach him one thing which I think he should learn.” “What is that?" Death inquired. “Resignation.” “You will have to leave that to me,” Dnu: responded: “I am the only fel- low who can attain that end.” lkn they chuckled mcn-n(, and parted. : Here we are, and there we are. and here we are again, 2 And if we're going up or down is never very plain, But there's one thin, know, while hill— That, though we go or up or down, we are not standing still. . “I feel that her awakened. She app agitated during the g that we should g oer lite's conscience is red to be deeply ces last Sun- da; “1 noticed it, too; M—“m think about the fleas?" plutseut S MMV BY SALLY SHARP. — Mrs. Joseph Anderson Chanslor will entertain to-day at one of the largest bridge parties of the season. Nearly forty guests have been bidden for the game, which continues to hold prece- dence over all other soctal attractions. { In her guest list Mrs. Chanslor has in- cluded Mrs. C. 0. G. Miller. Mrs. James Follis, Mrs. Latham McMullin, Mrs. George Martin, Mrs. George de Gella, Mrs. Charles B. Parcells, Mrs, Frank Parcells, Mrs. Frederic Wilson Kimble. Mrs, W. F. Porter, Mrs. Sfias fuiner, Mrs. Mortimer Fleishhacke:, 3 Hard Wayman, lirs. Jobn Grant Sutton, Mrs. Charles Youngberg, Mrs. Thomas Benton Darragh, Mrs. Gustavus Boyer, Mrs. La Boyteaux, Mrs. Mansfleld Lo- vell, Mra. William Watt, Mrs. Frank Moore, Mrs. George Moore, Mrs. Fred- erick Jacobs, Mrs. A. C. Luck. Mrs. Howard Morrow, Mrs. Gray, Miss Eliza- beth Gray, Miss Lovell, Miss Jane Wil- shire, Miss Lucretia Burnham, Miss Emma Mahoney, Miss Dyer and Miss Leola Allen. . - Miss Grace Baldwin and Russell J. Selfridge, whose engagement has been one of the recent announcements, wers the honored guests last evening at a dinner given by Mrs. Frank Deering. At the close of the affair the hostess | an@ guests attended the Skating Club, those In the party being Miss Christine Pomeroy, Miss Christine Roeosevelt, Miss Edith Berry, Miss Lucy Gwin Coleman, Lieutenant Thomas Selfridge, Carl Howard, Lloyd Baldwin and Stan- ley Hewlett. Mrs. Frederick Kohl will hostess a large dinner dapce in honor of Miss Genevieve Harvey, the affair to take place in the Van Ness-avenue home of the Kohls on February 6. CER e The Gayety Club will give its third daneing party for the season to-night in Century Hall. The maids in charge of the affair will undoubtedly achleva the usual success for which the club Is noted. Some new figures will be intro- duced in the cotillon. Miss Elsie Tal- lant is hostess for the evening. &9 e Mrs. Maurice Casey will be a bridge hostess to-day at her home on Pacific avenue. . . Mrs. Francis Sullivan and Miss Alice Sullivan entertained a large number of callers on Sunday at their Van Ness- avenue home in honor of Miss Alice Dunne of Boston. . Miss Sara Dean received a large num- ber of callers in her apartments at the Pleasanton yesterday afternoon, many old friends greeting their hostess for the first time since her return from Eu- rope. Recelving with Miss Dean were Mrs. Robert Armstrong Dean, Mrs. T. V. O'Brien, Dr. Millicent Cosgrave, Miss E. M. Eliot of Ottawa and Miss Kath- leen Kent. . . . Mrs. Charles Jackson will entertain at a series of bridge, the first gather- ing to be held on Thursday at her home on Vallejo street. . . Among yesterday's pleasant bridge affairs was one held by Mrs, Gerrit Livingston Lansing at St. Dunstan’s, twenty-four guests being entertained. . An informal luncheon followed by bridge ‘was given yesterday by Mrs. Henry Foster Dutton. . The Woman's Auxiliary of the Cali- fornia Ploneers are making elaborate preparations for theif large tea to be held next Saturday at Pioneers’ Hail A large invitation list has been issued and many prominent society women will be in the receiving party. 87 oo Mrs. Henry T. Scott will entertain at a luncheon at her home in Burlingame on Thursday. the guests of honbr to be some recent arrivals from the Orient. g Thursday’'s calendar will be flled with interesting events, among which are the luncheon to be given by Mrs. Thomad Benton Darragh and the large tea at the St. Francls, for which cards have been issued by Miss Bessle and Miss Bernice Wilson. s Miss Sue Burkhardt of Los Ankeles will be the guest of honor at a large tea on February 5. the affair to be given by Mrs. George Law Smith and Miss Maud Smith at their home on Jackson street. e The benefit for the Episcopal Mission at Ocean View to be given at the Cali- fornia Club on February § is daily gathering interest. The programme will be excellent and three very clever comedies will be given by amateur tal- ent, which has already demonstrated its ability to entertain. San Francisco's most prominent society women are pat- ronizing the affair. SNAKE DOES THE REST. Zoo Visitor—What an immense snake! Oh. he's a rattlesnake, fsn't he? Keeper—Ycs, mum. He has twelve rat- tles and a button. Visitor—How can you make him rattle? Keeper—Touch the button.—Cleveland Leader. T — NATURAL HISTORY. Teacher — What comes after man? Scholar—Woman. animal Townsend's &um glace frults 4 and cholcest candles i etched boxes. New