The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, April 8, 1906, Page 14

THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDA ALL FHE WERRS A SHEILELESS BAE OF K G TENT MRDE OF SOITE LOOSELY WOVEN I787ERIHL saw in Mun 2 Was suppos 8 ) or & bunch of mining siock is pocket. All that is changed anged. As we come up to the k in Plymouth you will notice just on a large triumphal arch s “Welcome. the band will not this morning, because it is Sunday the weather is threatening, but the pittee will be on hand. If ne before starting for Lon- a committee from the Com- > will haul us around in open it the public buildings an other points of inter- est. And you'll that your money is counterfeit out here. No use talkin’, we're all one people—just like brothers. ez RY GEORGE ADE ‘w==== you get to London. You'il think t back among your friends in too e he morning for the committee, but there was a ne solitary, water logged, sad raliing lonesomely on ender came alongside. He gangplank and scrutinized s we filed ashore. The man looked about for the trium- arch, but could find it. Mr. <plained that they had taken »n account of the rain le the passengers were kept herded into a rather gloomy walting room the trunks and larger baggage were brought ash nd sorted out according to the cal labels in an adjoining room - customs examination. When sened there was a rish some- pinutes the trunks were being: trun- cfal train Above voices and the rattle of > the sounds of lamentation and modified cuss Mr. Peasley could not find his was not th the baggage It was t in the boney ard, tever they c the heap of un- m: stuff piled up at one end of the T anywhere. ers, intent upon their pawed over their pos- d out shillings right and followed the line of trucks out to the “luggage vans,” and Mr. P 1¢ was left alone, . still demanding The station ageat and many hither and thither, looking of impossible places, while the locomotive bell rang warningly and begged Mr. Peasley to get he ‘wished to go to London. Peasley took off his hat and lcane: back and howled for his trunk. started and Mr. Peasley, after 7 indecision, made a running to our midst. There were six of a small padded cell, and five of the K ened for the mext fifteen minutes to a most picturesque and impassioned harangue on the subject of the general inefficiency of German steamships and English railways. “Evidently the trunk was not sent ashore,” some one suggested to Mr, Peas- ley “If the trunk did not come ashore you could not reasonably expect the sta- tion officials to find it and put it aboard the train.” But why didn't it me ashore?” demanded Mr. Peasley. very one on the boat knew that I was going to-get off at Plymouth. It was talked about all the way over. Other people got their trunks, didn’t they? Have you heard of any German being shy a trunk? Has anybody else lost anything? No; they went over the passenger list and said, ‘If we must hold out a trunk on any one, let's hold it out on Peas- ley—good thing Peasley.” Are you sure it was put on board at Hoboken?” he was asked. - LY § “Sure thing. 1 checked it myself, or. rather, I got a fellow that couldn’t speak English to check it for me. Then I saw It was lowered into the cel- lar, or the subway, or whatever you call it.” “Did you get a receipt for it?” “You bet 1 did, and right here she is. . He brought out a congested card case and fumbled over a lot of papers, and finally unfolded a receipt about the size of a one sheel poster. On top was a number and beneath it said in red Ictters at least two inches tall, “This Laggage has been checked to Ham- lled Mr. Peasl s attention to the reading matter, but he said it was a mistake, because he had been intend- ing all the time to get off at Plymouth. “Nevertlicless, your trunk has gone to Hamburg,” he was told. “Where is Hamburg?” “In Germany. The Teuton who checked your baggage could not by any effort of the imagination conceiv the possibility of a person starting for anywhere except Hamburg. In two days sar trunk will be lying on a dock in y , there's one consolation,” ob- served Mr. Peasley, “the clothes in that trunk won't fit any German.” When he arrived in London he began wiring for the trunk in several lan- guages. After two days came a mes- sage, couched in Volabuk or some other hybrid combination, which led him to believe that his property had been started for London. Mr. Peasley spent a week in the world's metropolis with no clothes except a knockabout traveling outfit and what he called his “Tuxedo,” “although over here they say “dinner jacket.”. In Chicago or Omaha Mr. Peasley could have got along for a week without any embarrassment to himself or others. Hven in New York the “Tuxedo” outfit would have carried him through, for it is regarded as a pass- able apology for evening dress, provided the wearer wishes to advertise himself as a lonesome “stag.” But in London there is no compromise. In every hotel lobby or dining-room, every restaurant, theater or music hall, after the coagulated fog of the daytime settles into the opaque gloom of night, there.is but one style of dress for any mortal who does not wish PASTUIC to publicly pose as a barbarian. The man who affccts a *“Tuxedo” might as well wear o sweater. In fact, it would be better for him if he did wear a sweater, for then people would understand that he was making no effort to dress: but when he puts on a bobtall he conveys the impression that he is trying to be correct and doesn’t understand the rules.. \ An Englishman begins to blossom about half-past 7 p. m. The men seen in the streets during the day seem & pretty dingy lot compared with a well-dressed stream along Fifth avenue. Many of the tall hats bear a falthful resemblance to fur caps, The trousers bag and the coat collars are bunched in the rear, and all the shoes seem about two sizes too large. Occaslorally you see a man on his way to a train and he wears a shapeless bag of a garment made of some loosely woven material that looks like gunnysack, with a cap that resembles nothing so much as a welsh ‘rabbit that has “spread.” To complete the picture, he carries a horse blanket. He thinks that it is a rug, but it isn’t; it is a horse blanker. . If the Englishman dressed for travel is the most sloppy of all civilized be- ings, so thé Englishman in his night regalia is the most correct and irre- rroachable of mortals. He can wear cvening clothes without being conscious of the fact that he is “dressed up.” The trouble with the ordinary American who owns an open-faced sult Is that he wears it only about once a month. Mr. Peasley was greatly rejoiced to learn one day that.he could attend a football game without wearing a spe- cial uniform. So he went out to see a non-brutal game played according to the association rules. The gentle pas- time known as football in America is.a modification and overdevelopment of the Rugby game as played In Great Britain. The association, or “socker” game, which is now being Introduced in the United States as a counter-irri- tant for the old-fashioned form of man- slaughter, is by far the more popular in England. The Rugby association is waning in popularity, not because of any outcry against the character of the player or any talk of “brutality,” but because the British public has a more abiding fondness for - the - association game. In America we think we are football crazy because we have a few big college games during October and November of each year. In Great Britain the football habit is something that abldes, the same as the tea habit. We are hysterical for about a month and then we forget the game unless we belong to the minority that is trying to debrutalize it and reduce the death rate. Here it was, February in London, and on the first Saturday after our arrival forty-five assoclation games and thirty- eight Rughy games were reported in the London papers. At sixteen of the prin- cipal association games the total attend- ance was over 250,000, and the actual re- ceipts at these same games amounted to about $45,000. There were two games at each of which the attendance was over 730,000, with the receipts exceeding $5000. A very conservative estimate of the total attendance at the games played on this Saturday = would be 500,000. In other words, on one Saturday afternoon in February the attandance at football games was equal o the total attendance at all of the big college games during an enfire season In the United States. The 'gameg, to which Mr. Peasley con- ducted us s played in rather inclement weather—that 1s, inclement London weather—which means that it was the most terrible day that the magination can picture-a‘ dark, chiliy, drippy day, with frequent downpours of ice. This s a mistake. We obtained it by the hogs- head. Tn spite of the' fact that the weather was bad beyond description. 17,000 spec- tators attended ‘the game and saw it through to a watery finish. Mr. Pcasley looked on and was much disappointed. He' sald they used too many players and the number of fatai- itles was not at all in keeping with the advertised Importance of the game. It was a huge crowd, but tne prevalling spirit of wsolemnity worricd Mr. Peasley. e standing alongside “What's the matter with you folks over here? ' Don't you - know how to back up a team? Where are all of your flags and ribbons, your tally-hos and tin horns? Is this a foot- ball game or a funeral? “Why should one wear ribbons at & football'game?"’ asked the Englishman. “Might as well put a little ginger into ANV HOWLED For HIJ T7RUY 777> BOWLER FLAT CONE ; 7177 s S NEW W o - the exercises,” suggested Mr. Peasley. “Do you sing during the game?” “Heavens, no. Sing? Why should one sing during a football game? What is the connection between vocal music and an outdvor pastime of this character?™ “You ought to go to a game In lo" City. We sing till we're black in the face—all about ‘Eat "em up, boys’ ‘Kill ‘em in their tracks’ and ‘Buckin’ through the line.’ What's the use of coming to a game if you stand around all afternoon and don’t take part? Have you got any yells?"” ‘What are those? “Can you beat that?’ asked Mr. Peas- ley, turning to us. “A football game without any yells! The game started. By straining our eyes we could make cut through the deep gloom some thirty energetic young men, very lightly clad, splashing about in all direc- tions and kicking in all sorts of aimless directions. Mr. Peasley said it was & mighty poor excuse for football. No one was knocked out; there was no bucking the line; there didn’t even seem to be a doctor In evidence. We could not follow the fine points of the contest. Evidently some good plays were being made, for occasionally a low, growling sound—a concrete murmur—would arise from the multitude banked along the side lines. ““What is the meaning of that soun they are making' asked Mr. Peasley turning to the native standing alongside of him. “They are cheering,” was the reply. “They are what?" *“Cheering." “Great Scott! Do you call t ing? At home. when he want courage the boys we get up o legs and make a noise that pear in the next towns cracks in the azure d Why, a game of « house yard is eight tin as this thing. Look juggling the ball with tl doesn’t somebody pick i 1 through that crowd and start a littlo rough work?”" The native gave hopeless look and moved a Soon after that we saw a tion of the crowd moving ove: booth at one end of the gro Peasley hurried after them, thinking that possibly some one had started a fight on the side and that his love of excitement might be gratified after all Presently he returned in a state of deep disgust. “Do 1 Peasley « ou know why all those folks are flockim® over there?" he asked. “Go- in’ after their tea. Tea' Turnin' their backs on a football game to go and get a cup of tea! Why, that tea thing over there is worse than the oplum habit. Do you know, when the final judgment day comes and Gabriel blows his horn and all of humanity is bunched up, waitin’ for the sheep to be cut out from the goats and put into a separate cor- ral some Englishman will look at his watch and discgver that it's 5 o'clock and then the whole British nation will turn its back on the proceedings and go off lookin' for tea.” After we had stood in the rain for about an hour some one told Mr. Peas- ley that one team or the other had won by three goals to nothing. and we fol- lowed the moist throng out through the big gatee. “Come with me,” sald Mr. Peasley, “and I will take you to the only dry place in London.” So we descended to the “tuppenny tube.” (Copyright, 1%6, by George Ade.) -