davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The morning call., 1891-02-15
CHAPTER ".

When ! awoke the sun was streaming
brightly into the room. The place was
strange to me. People were coming and
going and there was q strong odor OF re-
stOrdtlyes in the air. could feel that nv
lips had been scorched by some strong or
hot liquid. For some time my brain was
not able to put my thoughts in their natural
order. All was confusion and shadow in
my mind, but gradually came fully to my
self and then | realized that | had been
rescued upon falling from the roof of the
church, and that the food had subsidized, for
| could see the. effects of the water in the
room where ! was lying.
Suddenly l became aware that an old man
with long white hair was seated by my bed
side. 1t was Father ROubeu. The relief
party had been in time to save him, too. As
our eyes met | was startled by the terribly
dull, vacant stare which he fixed upon me-
We'll, my son." he blurted out, they're
all gone; all gone. We're the only ones
saved their children, for have none to pro-
vide for now, and for me l shall soon
follow them. Till then any corner will do
for me to sit and wait in. Why should [
bother myself about clearing away the
ruins? Let them have the land. The only
living things which have come back to the
old farmhouse are the ducks and the geese
Everything else is gone, Gaspard, my poor
boy; everything, everything"
made an effort to speak few words of
comfort, but they died away in my throat
and only groan came forth.
Nay, nay. my son, said Father ROubieu
almost augrily. don't put your words to
such i'll use. Don't tell ME that heaven is
mercilul. Pll not listen TO such words
Where are my beautiful children and grand
children and great-grandchidren, and my
fair fields ripe with the harvest, and nv
grapes purple on the vines, and my cattle
sleek and fat In their stalls? Where is all
this joy of my old age. No, no; don't tell
IN hnz iS mo fY,lb
This picture of despair was awful to con-
template. i shuddered when | felt that this
hardness of heart would only serve to give
keener edge to Father Roubieu's suffering.
Oh, if he could only weep, if he could only
pray, if he only had an angel to lead him
out of darkness into light as my beloved
Marie had done for me.
A little food and drink brought back nv
strength again, and when the doctor made
his, rounds l begged that | might be per-
mltted TO walk forth. | wished to be alone
with Father Roubieu. / IOnged to tell him
what had happened after left the roof. AS
we stepped out into the open air, the sight
was appalling. The village, with the except
ton of a few of the stone houses, had been
swept out of existence. Groups of men
from adjoining towns were busy collectinn
the bodies. As the hour for vesppr seryicp
had arrived | asked Father Roubieu if he
would not walk to the church with me. He
gave low hollow laugh, then said with
sneer:
SAY as good place as any, but mark me
Gaspard, as my name is Louis Roubieu. mi
not mutteT any prayers"
The morning call., 1891-02-15
STORMS.

Hast thou not seen the storm clouds rear
Their fiery mass in fierce array,
To wrest old Ph9bes gladstone cheer
From out the stubborn grasp Of day:
Hast thou not heard the thunde peal,
And seen the liehtning's vivid lash
Its hatred to this earth reveal:
Hast thou not felt the hailstorm's lashe
Patience! though dark these terrors seem,
They soon win weary OF the fray.
After the gloom must come CLEAN,
Zen as night yields her palm to day.
When the last thunder peal has rolled
Far Ger the horizon. hast seen
The stars more brilliantly unfold
Through midnight In their silvery sheen,
When In the morn the sun arose,
Did not, by contrast, storm and gloom.
Far sweeter make this warmth repose
More fragrant make the landscape bloomr
Ali hast thou felt some fierce despair
CONFUSE thy soul with agony?
In fiery torture breathed thy prayer.
Trust God, and strength given thee.
Has dark temptation come TO thee
In answer to thine earnest prayer
Patience, thy watchword ever be-
Fate's life! Hopes death Ny mastery
1891. GEORGE MARTIN.
The morning call., 1891-02-15
ARCHITECTURE
In THE ARCTIC.
SGhWatka TELLS How The People Of The
North Build Homes.
1t Is Interesting to Those Out Of the Snow
Line and Instructive to Those Who
Are Within It.

1 have had scores of inquiries from Ameri-
can boys as to the best methods of building
the snow houses used by the Esquimaux OF
the Arctic regions as result of my casual
writings about these curious abodes when
describing these strange people. so / deem
such subject would be interesting to most
OF these boys, as well as few others not
necessarily ambitious enough to attempt this
rather difficult Arctic architecture.
Nine inquiries out of ten at least humbly
confess that they have failed and that the
snow-b blocks have come tumbing in on their
heads before the structure was half done,
on an average.
There are many difficulties to overcome
of course. but they should be divided into
two classes. or those which the boy cannot
master in this country with any amount of
practice. as those due TO climate, ETC., and
those i'll which practice win perfect.
As to the former, the boy should remem-
Der that the very low great cold of high lat
itudes, combined with the fierce gales that
sweep. unmolested by timber tracts or other
wind breaks. across the level lands where
the snow houses are usually built. 'packs"
the snow into a peculiar texture which he
can never hone to obtain in our country,
and which will make the building of the
snow house much more difficult feat than
with the EsqumauX, even If all other things
were equal between them.
The morning call., 1891-02-15
CHAPTER I.

~ @Y name is Gaspard Ram
: !: !: :: !: !: !:
N\IC tention of those who saw
me at work in the fields during harvest
81. time, but | was good-natured, and
. neither at school nor after had grown up
could anyone say that had ever used my
wonderful strength TO injure human be-
ing. ] was very proud of it, however,
and nothing sounded sweeter in my
. ears than the cheers which greeted me
after performing some startling feat or over
:. Ginning in wrestling bout some rival who
was older and heavier than l. Nor was
this the only praise bestowed upon me. |
=. was courted and admired by the women at
every country fete, and the muthers took
great pains TO bring their beautiful 6augh-
tiers to my notice. All in vain, how
ever, for OF all things marriage
seemed to be NEST distant from
my thoughts. People said it was vanity
that kept me from liking anybody but N.Y.
self They wronged me. 1 tried to fall in
love, but no face l looked upon had the
power to faScinate me in the least. Then it
was whispered about that l was to ba sent
to Paris TO serve as q sculptor's model, and
malicious people predicted that that would
be the last of Gaspard Rambuteau.
:. When had just completed my nineteenth
year was invited one day to a country
feast Mt the village of Saint Jory on the
Garonne, and here | met Marie Rouhieu, the
granddaughter of a rich old farmer by that
name, Never had l gazed upon such a
beautiful girl She seemed ont of place
among the oihers-so gentle was she in man
ner, and such a celestial sweetness looked
out of her big brown eyes Even when She
smiled there was a tinge of sadness about
: her delicate, Madonna-like face, about which
clustered thick curls of golden-brown hair.
L heard her ask who l was and saw her
dark; eyes grow darker when some one an
swered;
. Take care, that's Gaspard Rambuteau
: Don't: fail in love with him. he fears
neither God nor manP
The morning call., 1891-02-15
IN THE FOREST.

After the German OF Xavier Seldl.I
Through forest shades a brooklet flows,
With murmurs soft it ripping goes
Past fairy haunts. where silence dwells
And naught the quiet peace dispels
Only the bright-eyed, tilnid deer
Approach to lap the water clear;
Only on gorgeous, painted wings
The butterfly across 1t swings
Two birds upon a blossoming spray
Look down and watch the wayelets play,
And see with won derlng little eyes
Their image from the waters rise.
The treacherouS waters seem TO say,
" Come. pretty birds, and with stayr'
F" God made us for the forest wide,
And there. o brookIst, will we hide.
" He covers all thy pleasant brink
With grass and rushes, and we think
That here In happiness well swing
And dream of sunshine and the spring"
Alameda, Cal, FEB. z 1897. ANELEH.
The morning call., 1891-02-15

For a few moments all went we'll. l had
about quarter of mile to swim in order
to reach the church, and it seemed mere
child's play for ME to make Roadway against
the torrent. l was beginning to be myself
again and the pride in my glorious strength
was coming back TO me. A strange and
utterly Undesirable happiness thrilled my
frame. In 4 few moments l should rea ch
the church ard be able to place my beloved
in perfect safety.
But suddenly dark object came drifting
down upon US. l made terrific efforts to
lurch ahead and drag Marie out of its way,
but too late. 1t came between us, and one
end of the object which seemed to be a
fragment of a roof. struck me fair and full
on the temple. | made superhuman efforts
to hold on TO my consciousness, but a terri
BILE roaring sounded in my ears, and |
swooned. My last recollection was a senSa =
ton of strangling as l went under the
water, and a prfcking against the balls of
my eyes as l struggled to keep them open
and look for Marie. Then life went out.
The morning call., 1891-02-15
COURAGE.

God-given courage that noby scorneth death.
T. love thee more than aught the world holds dear.
Courage sublime-the power to tell the truth,
Owning but falsehood as the only fear.
Courage to do the right, nor mind the world ,b,.
jeers
Courage to die, or harder still, to live;
Courage TO put forbidden love aside
inoug a II be sweeter bliss than Paradise can give.
Courage is noble, glorious. holy, grand, Sublime
heavenly flame of purest ray serene,
pillar leading through the desert sands
10 where the lamp of glory sheds Its beam.
reoFudry, f5sL Polly SrocKwELL.
The morning call., 1891-02-15
FOR KITTY ONLY.

The brindled COW had slipped her tether,
And early, while the grass was wet.
We sought her-you and together.
(That days sweet ghost, it haunts IN yeti
Again we Ioiter through the heather
And hearx en- to the brooks low frat.)
On the soft breath of summer weather,
Where all glad scents of meadows met,
Floated the thistles' downy feather,
Light Is our vows and our regret.
(Kitty, do you e'er wonder whether
We did most wisely to forget p
1881. MARION HILL
The morning call., 1891-02-15
CHAPTER III.

How deep was sucked down in the aw-
full swirl of the food | shall never know, but
when came to my senses l found myself
floating on the water, with my head upheld
by the edge of the fragment of roof 1t was
a moment or SO before | could realize what
had happened. Then the awful truth broke
upon me that Marie was gone.
'Mariel Marie! MarieY' l shrieked, as l
raised myself upon the floating debris. and
looked over the foaming and bubbling face
OF the waters in search of my beloved.
More and more distinctly the terrible fact
of my loss broke upon me. 1 clasped my
hands and, raising them toward heaven,
groaned, wept and prayed.
BE merciiul, o God" l monned, land
give ner back to me again! I'll offend thee
no more! I'll walk in humility till my
death; my foolish pride shall lead me no
more to despise thy help! Thy holy church
shall not open its door to me in yaip Hear
me, O heavenp'
But no answer came to my prayers, and
realized that heaven had abandoned me-
Then wild and tempestuous rage came
upon me. | shook my clenched fist at the
peaceful sky, which seemed to me to look
down so unpityingly upon this awful scene
of desolation. l ragged like a maniac sank
The morning call., 1891-02-15
"oUR MEETING"

A summers day, as bright and fair
As e'er man wished to see.
wandered forth its joys TO share
And taste its gayety.
How soft the air. how blue the skyi
Earth fragrant with the dew.
Impressed with natures deepest dye
My mem'ry holds it true.
Near shelt'ring oak village maid
Stood gazing on above,
monument in that lone glade
Raised by the hand of love.
The beauty Of her upturned face
Withheld my quickened breath,
AS If the pulse of life would race
Its victim to the death.
All. magic SPELL thy power l own
And passion that 1t brings;
My weary heart shall fearless roam
In loves unfathOmed springs.
Blest be that day, it meier shall fade
BY chilling hand of time;
Its sunny beam in my decade
Shall glad my heart in rhyme.
E. LEONARD JoNE:
Francisco. Jan. 20. 1891.
The morning call., 1891-02-15
REGRETS.

A shadow falls across his face.
Across my heart it falIeth, too.
o DEATH TO him thou bringest peace,
To me thou bringest only rue.
wounded him in devious ways,
The dear, true heart whose tender care
Hath sheltered me through weary days
OF sickness and of dark despair.
He goeth forth know not where,
And am left behind. alone,
The future looks so bleak and bare,
Across the past bar is thrown.
Oh. bring me back to vanished years,
That may show him once again
My heart is all his own All. tears
And prayers are all in vain.
February, 1891. IDA LEE LAWRENCE
The morning call., 1891-02-15
INCONSISTENCY.

One breathes of love and sings his lay
%, flowers are faig when May dew giistens).
Until enthralled by PASSIONS sway,
The other looks and leans and listens.
One goes upon his careless way.
20, flowers are rare In chill December)I
The other to her dying day,
Will think and grieye and still remember.
LILLIAN PLUNRErr.
San Francisco, jan. 30, 1891
The morning call., 1891-02-15
BABY,s DREAMS.

On snow-white draper les
Baby lies.
Light all taken out from
Dreamful eyes.
Beams and shadows play
Around
His form divine, nor make one
Sound.
think that to the angels
Baby goes
In his dreams, or may be where
Ice foes
Chill our north. or maybe still
Where pearls lie sleeping.
Who can telle Who can think SO deepY
Only wish all the world
Were like baby In his sleep,
In his dreaming.
San francisco, February, 1891. ALMA ALDEN.
The morning call., 1891-02-15

and cover the whole structure one or two
feet in depth with loose snow, and you will
have a true Esauimaux igloo. into which
you can crawl and enjoy yourself to your
hearts content-if you are true Esquimau.
Stand from under it if it shows signs of fall
ing; although they are not dangerous
The morning call., 1891-02-15
POETIC THOUGHTS.
Written for THE SUNDAY CALL
DRIFTING.

. RIFTING. drifting. ever drifting,
"a While the sun, the cioud-banks rifting,
y Ger the waves his bright rays sitting,
Turns to gold the azure sea.
Ger the deep. now rising, falling,
With spell my soul enthralling,
Still hear a weird voice calling,
Ever calling unto me.
Drifting. drifting. ever drifting.
While the moonbeanls. changing, shifting.
Ger the dancing wavciets sitting,
All the sea with silver crown.
Like some strains of siren singing
That through ocean caves are wiusing.
Still that deep voice clear is ringing.
Nothing e'er its notes can drown.
Drifting while the deep is sleeping,
And Imprisoned yet is keeping
Those dark fiends that crashing. weeping,
Struggle wildly to be free.
Drifting when, from sleep awaking.
The storm king. his letters breaking,
Rises in his anger, shaking
All his terrors Ger the sea.
Midst the musical low grooming
OF the waves to silence swooning
To the winds song soft attuning.
Sweeps the mystic voice in signs.
Midst the roaring and the ciashins
OF the surf in fury dashing,
X
Louder still It doth uprise.
Drifting ever, without knowing
Whittier Is the dark tide flowing,
Whittier are the breezes blowing,
Where my anchor shall cast.
Seeing but the shadows shifting,
Watching for their final lifting,
Knowing but that am drifting
With the current rushing fast.
Hid the goal to which Pm tending,
Hid the doom that is impending;
Hid in dark the unknown ending
of this drifting DER the sea.
1 but hear the weird voice calling,
On the waves, now rising, falling.
With its spell my soul euthraliing,
AS its challenge floats TO me.
So, in silence onward gliding,
Knowing not what baud is guiding,
Or what secrets it is hiding,
Still the summons l obey;
The whole world is lost in seeming.
L fe itself is but vague dreaming,
Futile is all human scheming,
For the shadows screen the day.
Lo, the past the mists are shroudingl
And the fog banks closer crowding,
Seem the future overcIouding,
Yet the weird voice calls to me.
So, half doubling and half fearing,
At the cad of this wild steering,
AS the wind veers go veeriny
Ger the dim waste of the sea.
Oft my heart within me failing,
And my spirit weakly quailing,
Ask when Will this dreary sailing,
When this weary drifting cease?
But there comes Do voice replying,
To my doubts no satisfying;
Nothing save the winds low signing.
And no whisper yet of peace.
Drifting, drifting. ever drifting,
While the shadows denser shifting,
Show no signs of breaking. lifting,
And the current rushes strong;
Human weakness uuavailing,
Wind and tide and shades assailing,
Finds their power still prevailing,
And is borne their wake along
Like rhythmic cadence falling,
Still hear the unknown calling.
Though 1t mocks me with Its voice.
am worn with vigil keeping,
Weary Ger these drear waves sweeping;
Fam woaid be resting, sleep ing
But drift on-there's no choice.
San Francisco. Feb, 1891 SELMA SCHMIDT.
The morning call., 1891-02-15
value of a Penny.

1t is worth noting. as the exemplication of
the value Of small things, that it is not Gus
tomary 10 pay fractions of penny on divi-
dends on Government stocks, and that some
few years since these accumulated fractions
amounted to el43,0 900. This nice little nest
egg was handed over to the Chancellor of
the Northumberland Journal.
The morning call., 1891-02-15
A Rrinx oonundrum.

Miss Captain. what is the DIFF
ference between dog-watch at sea and ca
nine vigilance ashorep
Captain-0ne is four hours and the other
is all night.-N. Y. Ledger.
The morning call., 1891-02-15
CHAPTER II.


Was the Ginning Of the midnight hour the
signal from heaven for the flood to stay its
angry tide, for the walters to check their
murderous advance? Alas, no! | could see
that our place uf refuge was being gradually
submerged and l hesitated no longer. l re-
solved to take my beloved Marie from the
roof and swim with her to the church.
As L began TO take off my shoes and to
make my preparations, Father Roubieu di-
vined my intent and burst out with:
" Nay, nay, Gaspard, it would be mad
ness to make the attempt The fury of the
flood is still on the increase. Listen, my
son, to its distant roar. The worst is yet to
come. Give up your wild scheme. I know
that you would willingly face death to save
our beautiful Marie. your betrothed; but it
were better for us to stay here all together,
then at least we shall have the satisfaction
of perishing in each others arms"
But was not to be turned aside. l raised
my two mighty arms, barred to the sh on der,
and stretched them aloft in the moonlight,
so that both Father Roubieu and Marie
might look upon their terrific strength.
Marie smiled and said softly:
Yes, dear Gaspard, God hath given you
the strength Of a giant, but can mans
strength stay the flood? Doth not the proud
oak go down before the whirlwind9"
Aye, true, beloved Marie" said I, 81
may not stay the flood, but | may bend its
fury to my purpose, even as | might ride an
untamed steed though might not guide him
arignt. GU VIII trust me, Will you not,
Marie?"
Yes, Gaspard," she replied. laying her
hand in mine. God hath given me to you
take me, for l am yours
Until this moment her glorious hair had
hung down loose upon her shoulders. but
now, standing there with the moonlight full
upon her angelic countenance which glowed
with radiance that made her seem un-
earthly beautiful to me. she began to gather
| her scattered and disheveled tresses and to
twist them into strands aud Irvine them
around her head, chanting the while from
the Psalms in a voice so calm, so tender and
so sweet that my limbs trembled as listened
20 her:
The Lord is my shepherd, l shall not
want. Yea, though / walk through the
valley of the shadow of death, shall fear
no evil Tor thou art with me, thy rod and thy
staff they comfort me-"
Daughter daughter" murmured old Rou-
bien, sit is the toilet of death which thou art
makiupB' -
The morning call., 1891-02-15
FICKLETS.

Written by Charles ". Foster for Smith Smith,
Good News.
Mrs. de Flatte-Boy, did you see stray
| pug dog around here anywhere?
Smart Boy-Yes'm. l just saw one bein'
chewed up by big bull dog, an saw an.
| other ben' tied to tin can an kerosene
poured all over 'im, an | saw another beini
chopped up fer sausage, an
Mrs de Flatte {elutchin.g at railing fo1
my little Fido safely back.
Smart Boy-All right, mum. You wal
here half minute.
NOTHING VERY NEW.
Mrs. de ViSite-Good afternoon, Mist
Blank! Is your mother at home?
Miss Blank-No. She has gone to Mrs. de
| Mugg's Progressive Conversation Party. BY
| the way, what sort of a party is that, Mrs.
de Vislte?
Mrs. de VIsite-It is one at which the con-
verSatlon begins with art, science and litera-
turp, and progresses very rapidly to fash
ions, gossip and servants.
A PAINFUL CASE.
Mrs Gotham-Dr. Brownston says he has
a patient whose heart is on the right side,
ana all the digestive organs are wrong side
to, and, in fact. his whole internal organism
is tapsy turvy.
Mr.. Gotham-Is it Mr.. Bullion?
Mrs. Gotham-The doctor did not men,
ton any names. Why do you think it is Mr.
Bullion?
MIR. Gotham-He always rides in cab?
AN USHEARD-oF REQUEST
Male Passenger-I want to get off at the
next corner?
Couductor-All right. I'll slow up so you
kin jump.
Passenger want you to stop the car?
Conductor-Stop tn car? Great snakesI
Mebby y'd like me to stop tn world gon'
round, too, so you'd have sure fOotin'.
a WESTERN POsToFFIcE.
Tenderfoot Gn new Kansas town)-Where
Is the Postofice?
Resident-Oyer there.
"Where?"
Dye see that man saving wood? He's
The Postmaster
Yes. bnt don't see the Postoffiee."
"Ot course you don't. It's in his hat"
A GENUINE FAUNTLERoY.
Little Son-I let two poor little bows ride
with me on my sled all the afternoon. We
beat every one on the hill.
Fond Mammal am delighted to learn
| that my little son is so generous.
Little Son-The more there is on the sled
the faster it goes.
PAYING THE PIPER.
Inquiring Boy Cooking up from book
What does paying the piper" mean?
Worried Father (aosently)- Tell him to
| call next week.
- / said the piper pa
Well, If it's plumber he needn't call for
month";"
NEWSPAPER TITLES.
Little Boy-Pop, whats the difference be-
tween an editor-in-chief and a managing
editor?
Pop IAN old reporter)-The eiitor-in-ehief
is the man who attends banquets and gets
all the glory; the managing editor is the
man who does the work
MEASURING BY THE EYE
Young LADY, want a pair Of shoes, large
and comfortable. Two willdo.
New Boy (glancing at her FOOT = Mr.
Leather, the lady wants two shoes. large and
comfortable. Where's that box of skies?
The morning call., 1891-02-15
An Even Trade.


You'll have hard work to find a Maine
father who values his boy at less than his
weight in gold. Allowing, therefore, for the
discount made to The trade. it would SEEM
as though quotations were running a little
low when young uns" are snapped for
t wo-year- old hefers.
Two years ago a Maine family found the
wolf of want climbing in at the back window
and therefore fed to the warmth the Oldest
boy; in other words, bound the youngSter
out to neighboring farmer. Circumstances
improved, and last summer the father ap-
preached the farmer with an appeal for his
son. but no.
suthin'," said the farmer.
His mother wants him.
80 do l."
wal. tell yer what I'll do" at last said
the anxious parent. 1--WE got a handsome
two,yearr,,old heifer and Eli swap even for
the boy"
The farmer evidently saw an opportunity
Tor profit, for he closed the bargain.-Lewis
ton journal.
The morning call., 1891-02-15
THE MONARCH AND THE OAK.

A royal oak high raised its head
Above the violets lowIy bed
And spreading its branches tall
Gave cCol and pleasant shade to all.
So should a monarch spread his hand
Far DER his broad and mighty land,
And wen protect from his lofty seat
Those who stand beneath his feet.
Feb 5, 1891 LEIGH LINDEN.