The San Francisco call., 1899-05-07
EDITORIAL VARIATIONS.
BY JOHN McNAUGHT.
80 20 *H*@*a#@*o

uHly OF CTlIlC is TO diligently 7t-h
out the best things that have been said
or done in the world and earnestly
strive to make them known to others.
Few writer's, however, are willing 10
accept the responsibility Of such a duty
as that. 1t is pleasanter TO sit idly by
the highway of life in the shade Of
self-indulgence and wait until some one
comes along blowing a little bubble Of
endeavor; and then arise languidly and
jab pen into it to see it burst.
Criticism of that kind imposes no dill
igence of search, for in this great van
ity fair the bubble blowers are num"r
ous and, let the critic rest where he
will, the game comes TO him Fre-
quently, indeed, ii comes in such shape
that to let it pass unjabbed would seem
like sheer good nature, and any exhibit
ton of that quality on the part of a
critic would be as justly subjected to
reprimand as candor in the speech of
a naval officer.
Occasionally, however, there comes
down the ways of the world something
good; and when it comes unasked, IN
sought, as freely as the bubbles, he
would be indeed a villain writer and fit
who would turn away from it without
word Of glad recognition of its merit.
After ALL there is as much real service
done to the world In setting forth de-
lightful things as in making a clean
sweep" Of those that are not delight
full. 1t may be conceded that a cook
whose labor consists in dishing up
dainty things is not moral reformer;
but after all, such person is as useful
to humanity as another who makes it
his business to handle the garbage.
Among the books coming to the of
fee during the past week is one so
small that were it not for the binding
ii would be called a pamphlet; so full
of poetic suggestion that were it not
for the form Of the expression it would
be called poetry. 1t bears the title,
Sugar Pine Murmurings. 1t comes
from the gold veined pine clad noun
tains of Amador, and exhales from
every page the spirit of the land 1t is
the work of a brother and of sister
Mrs. Elizabeth Sargent Wilson and J.
L. Sargent.
Within a space of little more than
hundred duodecimo pages it contains
nine stOries-if stories they may be
called, for after all they are little more
than sketches. Their charm is in what
they suggest rather than in what they
tell, and therefore they are rightly
named. for out OF each story, simple as
it is, there comes something like that
which affects one who listens to the
sounds that never cease in a forest Of
pines-sounds half mournful. half wild
which seem TO have in them something
Of sympathy with the human. and yet
which continually torment with reit-
Grated intimations of unintelligible
mystery.
Small as the volume is, and sketchy
as the stories are, the range of its
themes is wide. Pathos and humor.
tragedy and comedy, satire and sym
pathy are in it. Each story presents a
character drawn as if it We're copied
from flesh and blood One can hardly
doubt that these people did live in the
mountains and among the mines of
Amador, and that we have in this lit
tie volume a series Of genuine pictures
Of Californian life
From the quiet pathos of the story
Of the German miner who worked on
patiently for years and attained for
tune only when it was too late. to the
fierce tragedy Of the American miner
who in the wild justice of revenge en-
tombed his wife and her paramour in
the depths of an abandoned tunnel;
from the sad love story of the Indian
maiden Majel. to the broad comedy of
the tribulatiOns brought upon genial
John White by his aggressive goats,
there is surely wide sweep; but the
skill Of the authors has never once
failed them-every one of the varied
chords has been rightly touched.
There is much virtue in an If"
Sugar Pine Murmurings'' would have
been a valuable and in all likelihood
permanent contribution to the litera-
ture of California, if In this case
the if" means many things It's virtue
is pushed almost to the limit In the
main, however. it signifies, IF the
writer's had seriously tried to make it
so. The book appears more like
souvenir of tales told in the loiterings
Of leisure hours among the pines than
like an earnest and resolute effort to
accomplish something in the nature of
enduring literature. The stories reveal
enough to show the writer's have in a
high degree the faculty of depicting
the manners and the hearts of the va
rious types of men and women who
make up the community Of mining
district in our mountains, but they also
reveal a preference for listening TO the
murmurings of the pines on the hills
rather than digging for the gold be-
meath the surface. Nevertheless the
promise is great despite the smallness
in the quantity of the performance
The pan they have exhibited to the
public shows color of rich ore, and since
that much has been obtained at ease
among the pines, the yield will certain
ly be notable when the authors set
about digging in earnest.
The pangs, the pains and the passions
of poetry are with us always. and the
passions are of many kinds. The furry
over THE Man With the Hoe" has not
yet subsded, and now new agitation
comes to US from the East caused by
an impressionist poem breathed into
lyric life by Senator Thurston The
point of contention is curious. 1t is not