The San Francisco call., 1898-07-10
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By HENRY JAMES.

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 Over the door of that Home of Peace and Veracity, where white dove with roll of the Hong green" in its claws and the Goddess of Truth wearing a crown of thorns would be fit embems of the reigning regime; the lair of the Lawrence, the haunt of intellect, the office of the Examiner, there is a pic i ture>of General Shafter. The nobility characteristic of Lawrence, who, through association with He arst, has learned to be truly good, is shown by the circumstance that the picture IS allowed to remain. A Vindict1Ye man would tear it down. If venomous as well as vindictive he would place the marks of heel upon it. Shafter Is the official who during Hull of the battle found time to send back word to this Government that a story wired py Hearst was a lie. Everybody knew this, and that for malign stupidity no recorded act since Judas kissed ms Master had been more dispicable than the sending of message which tenoeo to bring our arms into disrepute, to ex- pose our men to the danger of assas- sination and to disgrace newspapers by demonstrating that among them were sheets so low and vile as to print the drivel of a disloyal and dangerous citi- zen who even in exile could not resist the impulse to do his troubled country an ill., Shafter but emphasized the brand which common judgment had put on Hearst. Yet Lawrence does not fOrpiVP- ness is little less than grand. l do not see how it could be carried further un- less there be rainted and attached to the picture a legend something Ike this: This is the patriot-soldier who says we are rs, and we guo-; he is right"
 Almost every day a report comes that there is peace talk in remi- official cir cles. I would like to know what a semi official circle is.
 An Eastern paper laments that there Is no rhyme for Cuba. What. the mat ter with Tuba? And in every orchestra of full strength some musician blows rugged chunks of melody from tuba Evidently the mourning poet never heard of the rhythmic process known as batting Juba. The chap may have a faculty for construction of jingles, but he seems to lack information.
 It is meet that the humble citizen bow to the Supreme Court. Far be 1t from me to say that it does not on all occasions know it's business. Not long ago an attorney exacted confession from a murderer whom he had engaged to defend, and while in the murderer pay tried to sell the confession to the papers, haggling noisily about the price. Haymond is the attorney s name, and the effort made to disbar him received general sanction until 1t had progressed as far as the Supreme Court. While there is h. pauclty or contemptible people in the world and a fair proportion of these are admitted to the bar, 1t had never been my for tune to learn of a trick more shabby than that attempted Raymond, and I have known a tramp to steal crape from the door of the house of mourn ing. The Supreme Sourt declares, how ever, that Raymond has been guilty of no crime, and is free from the shadow of moral turpitude. Had the ruling come from a source less august some degree of doubt might have marked it's reception. I congratulate Raymond. He must have been surprised. PosSi- bly, there would be no crime and no turpitude in his sending a basket of wine to the distinguished gentlemen who have given him a certificate of character.
 No, Patron" will not answer your questions. In the first place I couldn't, and in the second place this paper maintains at great cost query editor who knows everything.
 
 It Is matter of regret to me that Hubbard T. Smith, e consul to Kobe, should have sailed so soon, as the re- marks about to follow are designed for his instruction and spiritual uplifting. Smith follows vice-consuling as a reg ular business, but makes excursions into literature as tide issue. Perhaps it might be more fitting to term these ''foraging expeditions" as I note with pain that one of the songs he modestly ascribes to his own rhyme factory had the honor of being the product of a greater than Smith. It is the familiar story of the green peach, Little John and his Sister Sue, the combination and the melancholy result. Smith took the Jingle, added to each verse the re- frain Listen to my tale of woe" and asserts authorship of the whole thing. He could as yell add an exclamation point to the songs of Solomon and en- nance his reputation by posing as the writer of them In their entirety. The poem does not represent much of an l achievement in letters, but such as 1t i is the credit for 1t must be given to Eugene Field. I do not like to see a 1 dead friend -obbed. "The Peach, which is the real name of the ditty, first appeared in a Missouri paper, whether at St. Joseph or Kansas City I am not now certain. Field told me I the only reason he gave it place among his poems published in book 1 form was that so many jays had ac- quired the habit of saying they had
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