davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The San Francisco call., 1896-07-26

upon the bridge-tender to open the draw
bridge that he might sail through to an
anchorage The guardian of the bridge
refused to permit the sailing through fear
that the structure might be injured, but
ordered the Southern Pacific laid along
side the dolphin and warped through, an
operation that was performed after much
difficulty and many pious exclamations
on the part of Smith and much mild pro-
family on the part of the bridge-tender.
Once inside, the queer craft veered over
to the southern shore of the estuary and
went on the point in the high spring tide.
Smith made no effort TO get her off,
being content to lie there for the time
being and believing that the big tides of
the present month would take him off. In
this he was disappointed, for the highest
of the July tides failed to bulge the South
ern Pacific and she will be compelled to lie
quiet in her sandy bed until the June tides.
"She is in need of repairs" he says,
''and shall have plenty of time to prepare
for my next voyage, which may be to
China for all know. shall go wherever
the Lord steers my bark"
Smiths personal appearance is not out
of keeping with his vessel, for he might
easily be mistaken for the Ancient Mari
ner or Mohammed, by whose whiskers the
Moslem swears. An ample white beard
flows down over his chest. while keen
dark eyes COX from under eyebrows that
have been plentifully touched by the frosts
of time.
In stature he is powerful and of about
medium height, the sixty-five or seventy
winters that have passed over his head
not having bent his form to any noticeable
extent.
He seldom leaves his old craft except to
buy provisions, and early and late can be
see working about her, patching here.
tinkering there, getting ready. for that
coming voyage which from the appear
ance of the vessel might well be predicted
to be her last.
The San Francisco call., 1896-07-26

drinking in the words as they flow from
the lips of the prophet.
When a sufficient number has assem-
bled on Sunday morning he begins his
discourse, which often lasts for hours, ex-
horting his hearers to. believe in him and
be saved from the many dangers that
beset life.
Ii sufficient crowd assem- bles in the af-
ternoon, he holds second service for the
edification of the respectful and admiring
crowd, which. as general thing, is COM
posed almost entirely of women, mascu-
line face showing here and there
The service over. he requests an Offering.
and when the contri buttons have all been
handed up over the side of the boat.
aboard of which none are allowed to pass,
he pronounces a benedictlon and retires
with dignified mien to the seclusion of his
cabin.
The burden of Prophet Smiths song is
that he is delegated to save the lives of
thousands through his gift of prophecy
and the souls of all through his ability to
foretell the dangers that will beset their
paths. AT the same time he laws more
stress on his alleged ability as Iife-sayer
than his soul-saving powers.
'If people would only come to me-" he
said few days ago, as he stood on the
rail Of the Southern Pacific and gazsd with
reflective eyes at the sand that surrounds
her, "I could save them heap of trouble.
1 have foretold disasters that have oc.
CURED on land and watern-with a yaeue
wave OF the hand-"and everything has
come out just as l said. How do get the
knowledge2 Why, from the angels, of
course.
"They come right aboard this boat and
tell me many things that never reach
other human ears. Some of them are
black and know that they mean to tell
meof works of the evil one, such as sink
ing ships, train wrecks and the like, and
others are white and shinlng-messenge gers
| of good-and they tell me of pleasant
The San Francisco call., 1896-07-26
The New Prophet San Lorenzo Greek and His Crazy Graft the Mud Flat

Prophet Herbert Smith sailed into the
mouth of the San Lorenzo Greek, south of
Alameda, a few days ago and, like Noah
and the ark; landed on high ground and
was left there by the receding tide.
Smith is one of the queer characters of
the bay; the queerest, perhaps, that ever
sailed its waters, for he navigates a big
sloop without rudder and with tiny
rag of canvas for a sail and yet comes to
no harm and seems to live happy life
aboard his crazy vessel.
He was follower of the Oakland
spiritualistic medium who married Count
Fasujerna de Poulson, the erratic Swed-
ish nobleman of Peterhoff Castle and as
the Countess Poulson claimed his prop
erty. When her circle broke up after she
had acquired much of this worlds goods
Smith started out to preach her creed-a
combination of many isms.
He claimed to have received a divine
command to purchase vessel and preach
from her deck when the crowds that he
expected to congregate at the sound of
his voice pressed too closely about him..
With strange incongruity he bought a
craft called the Southern Pacific and per-
mits her to carry that cognomen on her
stern to this day. There are those who
think that Smith believes all he says about
the divine instigation for his eccentric life,
while others think he is just plain fakir,
but be that as It may Smith !claims to be a
prophet of the first water and finds no diff
hculty in gaining large audience when
ever he appoints an hour TO expound his
doctrines.
Since it has been noised about that
Smith has found resting-place the be-
levers in the teachings of the Countess
Poulson have focked to him as her sue
cessor. and his followers daily increase in
numbers. They come from Berkeley, Oak
land, San Leandro, Lorin, Alameda, and
even from the City, and congregate about
the boat, some sitting on the sand to lis
ten, while others stand about the sides
The San Francisco call., 1896-07-26

all of them are instinct with the perfect
yraisemblance of pure field naturalism, the
following from the 'tBrigs of Ayr" being abso-
lutely perfect:
Nae mair the grove with airy concert rings,
Except, perhaps, the robins whisking glee,
Proud o. the height o. some bit half lang tree;
Or this from the closing Anes of the "Epistle
of Robert Graham:
So when the storm the forest rends
The robin in the hedge descends
And sober chirps securely.
The thrush, or "mavis." as the bird is
euphoniously termed in Scotland, is referred
to many times; never in one jarring note of
inconsistency with its daily habits. Some
times it is
The mellow thrush
Hailing the setting Sun, sweet in the green thorn
bush;
Or this to the Missei-thfush, now a scarcer
bird in Ayrshire than when Burns penned the
famous sonnet "On Hearing Thrush Sing
in morning walk in January 25, 1793," the
birthday of the au thor:
Sing on, sweet thrush upon the leafiess bough;
Sing on. sweet bird, listen to thy strain;
See, aged winter, mid his surly reign
At thy blythe carol clears his furrow'd brow
Burns is never tempted into the realm of
myth and gloomy ominous superstition even
in his referen ces TO the raven-an his passages
are strictly on natural history lines and all
are Slngularly exact ana 1altltul 10 the verftiea
of raven nature. When John Anderson's
Bonnie brow was brent
His locks were like the raven
And the evil reputation of the bird as sea-
shore scourge (or shall we not, in preference
say the hbelous character of the bird, for as
matter of fact it is rather beneficial scaven-
ger of garbage than scourge) is referred to in
one couplet only of the poem "Caledonia":
The fell harpy raven took wing from the north,
The scourge of the and the dread the sh ore
The common bittern (Botaurus Stellaris) is,
believe quite extinct in Ayrshire as q breed
ing bird, but it was very different in Burns
day, and although considerable ignorance pre-
walls as to the natural habits of this bird,
Burns references to it are again those of an
observant naturalist. The whole of the
sElegy on Captain Matthew Henderson" is in
stinct with the inspiration of poetic sympathy
with natural phenomens in their relationship
to human feelings.
Forty odd years ago, when bitterns were not
so uncommon in the "Mosgiel country" of
(! Ayrshire, the bird was popularity termed "the
The San Francisco call., 1896-07-26

swept. scrubbed floors, prepared vege-
tables and washed countless dishes. In
answer to the usual question informed
the hostess that my '.front name was
"Lenore." It was whim of mine never
to tell the truth in. this matter, for the
name my mother had given me 1 held too
sacred to be banded about by strangers.
A new installmento of hungry youths had
just arrived for dinner, and the frustrated
landlady hustled into the kitchen with the
despairing announcement that the house
was being disgraced and that 'Abner
must get move on" and help her out.
"Abner" followed with an ice-pitcher and
his customary sneer.
"Hello. Lenl" he said, elbowing his way
to the sink beside me to draw some water.
1 hastily made room for him and forced
myself to utter civil 'good evening"
"Ain't got time to say such long name.
you know he added, with "a leer, as he
stroked his ragged mustache, and turn
ing his fishy gray eyes contemptuously
upon his impatient wife, he moved away
to do her bidding. l stood within three
feet of the broiling hot range for hours at
my work. The young heir of the house
passed me number of times, bowling
anathemas upon my defenseless head for
presuming to make myself so much at
home without having considered his dis
like of strangers, and once even kicked me
to enforce HIS unheeded observations. The
marked attention which his case then re-
ceived, however, caused him to stand, or
rather to sit, in profound awe of my dis
ciplinary powers and he thenceforth left
me undisturbed.
Boarders came and went; the indefatig-
able landlady hastened ceaselessly to and
fro. while her leisurely husband served up
icecream and cynical remarks, and was
now and then called from my dishes to
assist in waiting.
A partially demented widow who lodged
in the back bedroom came into the kitchen
and asked if 1 would comb her head'
when got through my work 1 declined
the honor, and the next day she asked the
landlady if she didn't think it was l who
had stolen her breastpin.
| The trundle.bed allotted to me was in a
garret at the head of the kitchen stairs,
with no door between, and the uncur-
tanned skylights added to the intolerable
heat. But 1 found that this was para
disc when com pared with the quarters as
signed to many servant girls. In small,
second-class hotel was given not room,
but a closet, with actually no openings
The San Francisco call., 1896-07-26

Why do educated American girls object
to going out as .housemaids, and accept
instead more poorly paid employment
Being a teacher, have had leisure in
the summertime to investigate the matter.
and l have found so many why's that
thought would write them down Tor ref
erence.
Vacation had come, and buoyed up by
the freshness of a June morning and a
high and mighty resolve, 1 entered, for
the first time in my life, an employment
office.
What kind of girl do you wish,
madam"
A most enhancing thrill vibrated from
the tremendous aigrette in my fetching
little capote to the tips of my French kid
shoes. For the space of several seconds
my soul was translated. The being be-
fore me was Difference personified. What
depth of discernment, what true apprecia-
ton. He spat upon the floor and marked
the spot by a sweeping emphasis of his
boot heel over the faded oilcloth. My
spirit returned to earth. The being be-
fore me was stroking his dingy yellow
whiskers and had resumed the mastica-
ton of his quid of tobacco, while his weak
eyes were blinking at me in an Indifferent
expectant fashion. With an effort mightier
than my resolve had anticipated l forced
myself to reveal to him the truth.
"H'm, nursery -governess or second
work, etc. ? Teach French and music, and
understand sewin'? There amt many
calls for them governesses. Got some
places for second work; tony families,
too. can send you to one up on the
next street now. Five in the family.
washin' mostly put out. take care of the
children, wait on table, etc., Chinese
cook ="
"Would-would they expect me to eat
in the kitchen?" inquired family. ''I
reckon. Them aristocratic families gen.
er'ly do" IL think 1 would rather be
in smaller family" faltered.
pictured myself vis-a-vis with an al
mond-eyed Celestial manipulating his ma
tive chopsticks. and heard the tintinnabu-
lations of madame's bell in the dining
room and L marveled anew at our
American "lack of social distinctions.
well, in small families, you know, it's
mostly general housework girls that's
wanted -fo cookin'. specially. There
was lady here yesterday would take you
right in like one of the family. (Ah, he
perceived my weaknessD Several small
children; says she'll help about washin'
The San Francisco call., 1896-07-26

but the door, which led into q dark and
narrow side-entry off the main hail. No
breath of fresh air could reach it, and the
foul old kerosene lamp which illumined it
rendered the musty atmosphere absolutely
sickening.
To add to the horrors of the night which
pouring rain forced me to pass there
was inflicted with roommate, the Swed-
ish laundress, whose coarse talk and un-
cleanly person were repulsive in the ex-
treme. The mistress of the establishment,
who seemed well pleased with my first
days work. was much disconnected that
should drop off so suddint, before she
had time to secure another girl. For my
part / resolved never to accept another
engagement, however brief, without first
seeing my room.
Upon interviewing the proprietress of a
fashionable private boarding-house | re-
quested this privilege and was conducted
up devious back stairways to an entry
opening upon a covered porch, where
were ranged the toilet-rooms. Judging
from the foul odors sanitary plumbing
was regarded as superfluous luxury, and
it was in direct connection with these
apartments that the servants rooms had
been built.
Not even plastered walls intervened,
only thin board partitions, each room being
dimly lighted by an opening as high and
narrow as prison grating. As 1 entered
one OF these cells, slender girl with dark
circles under her eyes and paint on her
cheeks hastily rose. and gathering up the
hair combings from her dressing table,
resumed the task of packing her few pos
sessions in a valise.
Where was she going? The commonest
beer-haIl would afford more healthful ac-
commodations than were offered here, and
as she turned to leave so-called respect
ability behind, felt a strange sympathy
for her. If our laws regarding the mat
ter of sanitary inspection were as good as
those in some parts of Europe, and the
average mistress were a little less con-
scienceless, fewer American girls would
object to going out to- service.
! know, of course, that there is another
| side to this story. There are mistresses
and mistresses, as there are maids and
maids 1 have in mind a friend who is
servant in a family where the conditions
are ideal She is treated as one of the
family, and the family is cultured. But
really, the ideal is not often found. did
not find it. Miss PEDAGoGUE.
The San Francisco call., 1896-07-26
Educated American Girl Prefer Poverty to Domestic Service?

and cookin' herself. Just wants somebody
that don't go gallivantin' round OF an
evenin'; to take care o. the young ones.
Husbands away most always-very quiet
place"
And with this covert slap at his own
sex and an ignoring of madame's evident
propensity for ''gallivanting round" her
self of an evening, to the neglect Of her
offspring, he opened large and dirty
register to find her address.
Never mind." 1 said hastily. "I'll call
again when there are more to choose
from" But 1 never did. mo followers
allowed was too insulting an insinuation
to be countenanced by staid school
ma'am.
A few days later, when 1 had recovered
somewhat from the shock of this first en-
counter, betook myself to q suburban
village, in response to a call for IAN in
teligent girl to assist with housework and
make herself one of the family" I'm
fortunately it was the easy-going pater-
familias who had undertaken to make the
arrangements, and his information was OF
very indefinite character. He beguiled
the brief railway journey with assurances
VI d pIcdodHt lllC DCutdJH HIS IOOI. his
wife was great worker, most attractive
woman; he knew would like her. His
son was model boy, carried off all the
prizes at school, and ''the others"-well,
they made no trouble.
/ found madame to be small wiry per-
son with sallow complexion, cold, grey
eyes and short locks, which curled up
ward about her collar like a series OF
fishhooks. She was possessed of fair in
telligence, penurious disposition and a
passion for art, and while her grammar
was deplorable she made point of quot
ing Voltaire and otherwise displaying her
culture. Among the '1ight duties had
to perform were cooking, sweeping, scrub
bing floors and washing.
Milady's artistic sensibilities were ever
uppermost, and the way in which hung
the clothes upon the line panied her so
much thatsh changed them all about.
placing the sheets so as to occupy all the
room possible, pinring the stockings other
end up. and arranging the underwear in
esthetic groups, whose inspiring effect
was, l confess, quite lost upon me. Her
two old bachelor brothers boarded with
her-remarkably stupid fellows both, who
ate with their knives and rarely spoke at
table. One was deaf and very crusty.
while the other was oppressively obIiging,
coming into the kitchen of an evening to
The San Francisco call., 1896-07-26
PROPHET SMITH ADDRESSING I
The Poet Burns as a Mystic Of the Fields

The centenary of the death OF Robert Burns
on July 81 last evoked even more enthusiasm
than the centenary OF his birthday, thirty
seven years ago.
Any attempt to recon slider Burns character,
even in the light of many new facts bearing
on his career and influencing his actions, must
be left to others, and mere rechauffee of the
vast volume of critical estimates" would be-,
even were we equal to the task, a work of
supererogation. Our aim is the more humble
one of reviewing his works from an almost
totally neglected standpoint and, approxi-
mately at least. fixing his position in the
hierarchy of that beautiful cult, poetry, in its
relationship to the phenomena of animal life,
and more particularly the life-habits of fami-
liar birds
From that standpoint Burns holds a unique
position. He was the very first of our great
field-naturalist poets, and he holds that posi-
tion by virtue of the simplicity and fidelity of
all his illusions, while his most passionate
lines and verses are deeply inspired by that
strange and mysterious spirit of pure esoteric
totemism, for the origin and deeper meaning
of which we have to go very deep down in the
history OF human evolution. His genius was
wholly uninluenced by the charms of "animal
myth and symbolism embalmed in the writ
ings of nearly all our great poets, and more
particularly in the works of the great dramat-
lists of the Elizabethan and post-Elizabethan
ages ne uuneQ Win varying aspects OF
natural life and inanimate nature, and these
reacted on his emotions and found expression
in many incomparably touching verses. As a
poet OF nature Burns, therefore, stands In his
solitary glory midway between the refined and
cultured embodiment of far-off totemism and
mere elemental mysticism and the sublime
characterization of the nature cult ofWords-
worth.
There are few Of Burns more passionate and
familiar lyrics devoid OF the spirit of inter-
communal sympathy with natural phenom-
ena in various aspects and in their relation
ship TO various moods. In 'To Mary in
Heaven" we find:
The fragrant birch and hawthorn hoar
Twin'd am'rous round the raptur'd scene.
A very beautiful and appropriate image ex-
quisitely expressed, and the idea is heightened
and gracefully amplified in the lines that fol-
| low:
The flowers sprang'wanton to be prest,
The birds sang love on ev'ry spray.
By way of contrast what could be more i'm
pressive than the images that literally crowd
upon each other in every line OF "The Au-
The San Francisco call., 1896-07-26

hull O. the bog" and sometimes the "mire
drum" owing to its nocturnal cries, which
Burns must have heard. Leyden, in his
.sScenes of Infancy" has a eouplet that has
quite Burnsiana ring about it:
No more the screaming bitterp, believing harsh,
To its dark bottom shakes the shuddering marsh
There is here, but not in Burns lines, con-
fusion of adjectives, the effect of inexact per-
sonal observation. the cry of the bittern being
undoubtedly of the "bellowing" kind-rairing,
as Burns correctly phrases it, but it is q con-
tradiction in terms to apply to il screaming"
and "harsh'' in the same line. Burns refer
ence to the eel-angling exploits of the common
The San Francisco call., 1896-07-26

thor's Farewell to his Native Country" begin
ming with
The gloomy night is gath'ring fast
Loud roars the wild inconstant blast;
ages and feelings in 'sMy Nannie's AVA" or
that still more perfect (for illustrative pur-
poses) "The Banks o. Doom"
Ye banks and braes o. bonnie Doom,
How can ye bloom sac fresh and fair?
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And sac weary fu' o. care?
Thou'lt break my heart thou warbling bird,
That wantons thro the Towering thorn
Thou minds me O. departed Joys
departed never 10 return.
OFT hae rov'd by bonnie Doom
TO see the rose and woodbine twine,
And ilka bird sang o. its love,
And fondly did o. mine
WI lightsome heart pu'd a rose
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree;
And my fause lover stole the rose,
But ah he left the thorn wi me.
We must turn, however, from that very
pleasing aspect of Burns poetry to view it in
Its more unique relationship to the familiar
aspects and even obscure phenomena of bird
life, and in this respect it makes an absolutely
new departure in the evolution of English
verse. Burns was thoroughly familiar with
the part played by myth and classicism in the
rustic poetry" of his predecessors, and IN the
references to particular birds in the works of
our greatest writer's. These he did not de-
spise, but they had no influence on his mind,
as expressed in his verse. He did for
birds. through his poems. what White OF
selborne did by his immortal letters to DANES
harrington and Thomas Pennant, and in
every one of his direct and mere casual refer
ences ne was quite as faithful to the absolute
yerities OF nature as the first of English field
naturaists. A very few examples must suffice.
l nave marked fifteen passages referring to
iarks I'D his poems, not one of which but bears
the stamp of observant fidelity, and in the
versesto the woodlark (Alauda arborea)-which
was more common in Ayrshire in the poets
day and for many years afterward than is gen.
orally supposed-there is very effective
blending OF the human emotions with the
purely physical charms of avian song:
Say, was thy little mate unknd
And heard thee as the careless wind?
Oh, nocht but love and sorrow join'd,
Sic notes o. wac could waulken.
The references to the no less familiar robin.
red breastare not many in Burns poems, but
The San Francisco call., 1896-07-26

heron tArdea Cinerca) is very remarkable, as
1t is only within the last few years trained
ornithologists have come to a right frame of
mind as to the exact feeding habits of this
bird, and good many popular writers and
literary anglers" are still in a condition of
utter darkness, and do not know that herans
are beneficial rather than hurtfuI in the
nelghoornoo OF trout streams. Burns, of
course, has many references to the habits of
many other species OF common birds; too
numerous to record even by the barest refer
ence, but these all go 10 confirm our original
contention that he was the first and most
gifted of field naturalist poets.
The San Francisco call., 1896-07-26

fashionable table boarders and supported a
sickly and disreputable-look husband.
His claims to gentility were evidenced by
lengthy English pedigree, carefully
framed and hung over the dining-room
mantel, and by rusty silk hat which he
nonchalantly cooked over one eye when he
was sent out to do the marketing.
''Missus'' did all the cooking and q
thousand other things as well, while