The San Francisco call., 1896-05-03

1t would not be a new experience. He
had been in iails in every part OF the world
| for speaking his mind" as he put it.
| Once, during the Fenian uprising, he was
| lodged in jail in London and commune
cation had reached him to the effect that,
If he would. give the word of assent, the
place would be stormed that night. He
said, 'No, but as an evidence of your dis
pleasure tear down Hyde Park fence
That night it was torn down.
But the world had grown older. He had
been watching the lines deepen in her face
while he himself stood by, smiling, and
treasured up his youth. Within the week,
now, he might give nod that would shake
the world.
He did not say good-by. The children
! and the birds came to the bench in the
park in the morning and waited and
waited. Some of them fell asleep there.
What had become of their playmate?
He had received the pledge of the an
archists in the mornings mail and was al
ready on the train going away to overturn
the Government. He wore his white
duck suit, and the famous boutonniere
and the red fez of Murat. He was back
in the world again. He did not have to
take new lessons of its ways. He was at
once the tiger of old, the courtier of old,
the prince of the present. There was the
tall, erect figure, the broad shoulders,
that carriage of the head, that quick, con-
fident stride, that placing of the foot that
was sign of his born rig ht to be dictator.
He did come very near getting into Jail
in Chicago. He held public meetings and
the police formed large part of the audi
ence. After fourteen years of silence he
was on the platform again. Had he for
gotten the art OF the orator? The police
! men did not think so. He arraigned the
courts for passing judgment of death upon
mon for exercising the right OF free speech.
he dehed the policemen to arrest him and
| they were screly tempted.
You have never heard Train? Then for
me you are impossible. The Southern Pa
cific transcontinental rates are high, TO be
sure, but go and hear him.
He visited the Mayor and the Chief of
Police and challenged them to do to him
| what they had done to the anarchists, for
i he, too, was expressing his mind. But
they would not The anarchists were
hanged. They sang the "Marseillaise."
A few other anarchists gathered in the
streets and muttered. Other men jostled
each other in the street, sold wheat, ran
! for streetcars, forgot to order the coal,
were late for dinner, played with their ba-
bies-very like any other Friday in Chi
cago. The sun went down. The great
coup did not so much as deserve line in
the eager evening newspapers.
For this the silence of fourteen years
had been bro ken. Train, out of the dis
| u,
country went to Canada. He quickly
tired of that, however, and returned to
| Boston. There he did succeed in getting
into Jail for something or other, and they
had quite time getting him out, for he
was well pleased in his grim-gay way and
| bought a suit of striped clothes to further
signify what the groundlings may do un-
willingly to their chief. But they expelled
| him from Jail on a habeas corpus or some
| thing, and then he was at loss again
what to 90.
He had returned to the world; he did
not think of going back to silence; the
| Government as yet seemed secure on its
footing, and so, with his activities all
awake again, it became question of how
he could be kept busy enough to employ
them. 1t was then he undertook to ac-
complish tour of the world in sixty days,
] and / was sent with him, representing
| newspaper.
! Can you imagine prettier bit of dra-
matte action than that of a public man
who has sat in silence for such time that
! the world has forgotten him, rising
up from his seat to make a tour of the
/ world against time? Train had been over
! this track no less than three times before
! and in every port found some old-time
! friends. He was in his element and en-
! loved all that he saw with the pleasure of
a child. The constant change and excite
ment fitted into his temper for the time.
| The only anxiety he ever expressed to me
was. "What shall l do when the journey
is over? 1t is necessary to me that |
! shall be kept very busy now; otherwise /
must return to silence and my children in
Madison Square"
1 answered, why not keep moving;
| keep travelling round the world ? You have
been playing the hermit in New York. Go
to the other extreme; become the wander
ing American. 1t would be great play"
'You have answered my question" he
| said.
He has made one tour of the world since
then. He has travelled over great part
| of the United States. He was the dis
tinguished guest of the Worlds Far at
Chicago, and many who were there during
the lonesome months OF the opening and
who saw the rapid increase of attendance
after his arrival and the exercise of his
tremendous advertising powers gave him
credit for having practically saved the
| fair" He is in New York again with the
4 chi1dran in tho nark hut kaapinQ 6nsv