The morning call., 1892-06-26

see, was sort OF walking Noyemagian Club.
But such man as Mr.. pickwick never was,
either in England or elsewhere. He is as
impossible as the Count Of Monte Cristo.
And yet he is fact. as the Count of Monte
Cristo is fact They are each the flower,
the blossom of time; an idea an ideal.
They are not tree, plant-possibly not
even the flower of plant-only the perfume
of IL. Bat perfume or odor which could
not exist without a tree or plant OF some
like kind having first taken root in the land,
grown up, borne its flowers aud SO sent
forth its perfume on the air
The perfume, the flower, is the poetry of
it all. The tree with its roots in the soil is
the fact. The tree l never saw in ali the
years spent IN and about London. And so
when / assure you that 1 never saw John
Oakhurst. gambler, in California or else
wheTe-please understand / mean no more
to dispute or disrespect Bret Harte than to
contradict Dickens or Dumas. But for the
benefit Of the young John 0akhursts that
are sprOuting up IN he little 'eities" along
the Sierra foothills want to say fatty there
never was such man except in the match
less story of the 0utcasts of Poker Flat, and
there never will be. And yet he is a fact as
Mr.. Piekwick is fact
But If you could have taken off those
pretty boots which he so carefully busted
with bis Observation-Disclosures and in which,
let Us hope, he died, you would have found
holes In his socks and his feet very dirty.
For the good of the rosy, rural girl who is
disposed to love her embryo 0akhurst who
haunts the saloons Of the little town Of the
foothills, want TO say positively that any,
thing that is on him or about him, except
the boots and outer shirt, is as dirty and
ragged as his character; and that is saying
that he Is flthy, TeDulsive from top to toe
coward. liar and sneak, who would no
more think of taking his own scalp, as John
Oakhurst did, than he would Of paying
board bill.
And please remember that even perfect
ana pathetic as this ideal Oakhurst is, he
became an outcRst and died miserably by
has own hand to escape the rope. Cherokee
Sal. Mother Shipton, all such in fact
persisted most wretchedly And here is
where the work Of the perfect artist Is ap-
parent He could not IL he would forget
the eternal equities. They all and each
went to the dogs, in the great roundup"
Only the work Is so perfectly done and The
shadows so compact with pathos that we
are all lost in sympathy, and don't see the
dismal end, or the dirty feet in the polished
boots.
And now let me announce q fact, not
without delibeTation and observation-one
which 1 shall stand at all times ready to
maintaln-the California gambler, who has
always been heralded as a most generous,
liberal and opeD-handed fellow, is, was and
always will be the meanest, stingiest man
in the State
In Europe, where men have nothing to DO
but spend money, things are not as here.
TENT up IN cities, or at best crowded
together by millions on continent not
much bigger than our back yard, they often
turn to cards for diversion. They do
nothing but spend money. We do nothing
but make money. In Europe If q man is
even suspected Of playing cards merely for
the money there's In It he IS promptly 'cut."
But here II your Mr.. Oakhursl should be
found playing cards for the fun there is in
1t be would be thought fool.
Inc fact IL, my dear children Of the Cali
lorna foothills, your Mr. Oakhurst does
not want TO work, but lie does want those
pretty. polished boots, little matter whether
he has anything else on his feet or not; and
be is going TO fleece some drunken old man
or some idiotic boy to get them. And that
Is the John Oakhurst OF the mountains. He
is a grade or two higher down In Oakland,
where he hangs around the cigar-sh0ps and
the poolr0oms; but he is the same cunning,
mean, misery clout-dOing it all for the
money there Is in IL. In San Francisco, of
course, there is higher grade. somewhat rs
in Europe, where diversion is sought; but
my work is with the Oakhursts Of the inte-
rlor. where the rank crop of young would
be gamb ers is growing mp.
l was once keeping a nght-school for
miners near Shasta when one of those
X,
got after me. Now j was not yet IS. was
not able to work, having been badly hurt a
few months before at Castle Rock. but some
kind miners had fitted up an old log cabin
where L could read 70 them at night and
teach them to write on Sundays. 1t
seems Incredible that lots Of young men
there then could not even write their
names. But such was the fact, and these
big fellows from the border learned
fast md paid well. 1t would make long
story; 1T would take book to tell how
hard some Shasta gamblers tried to get me
to play With them. And under these circum-
stancesl Finally one OF them borrowed
what little money | had, and then they let
me alone. Oh, they were low. all alike
low; and in all the towns up and down the
coast / have always found them alike
eager to wear polished boots and alike IN
willing TO work for them.
There, was one man at Shasta basin In
those old DAYS who could and would both
work and play cards. That was james r.
keene. / think he has always been called
Jim keene," though the long, kindly and
brilliant letters | have had from this man
have always been signed James X. Keene.
He was editing paper at that time, poor
prosecuted man, and I at las forced him TO
tell me. rs many an honest man has since,
that could not write poetry. But he had
and still has great big heart in him for
any one who Is willing 10 work ana try to
get Oh, whether in Wall street or elsewhere
No. L never played cards with Jim Keene.
/ never saw him turn card in my life.
though the boys up there used to say that
when the young editor sat down at game
he generally got up with all the dust IN
sight. But bear this distinctly in mind ::
he was an Englisbman, with an English
mans ideas Of play; besides that he had
both hands full OF other employment. And
bear in mind. furthermore. that / don't say,
except as have heard. that he ever tossed
a card at all In that stout-hear tied style