The San Francisco call., 1899-03-26

Collector Jules Gamage of this city
recently drove over an old man ana
killed him. The victim was an 1not-
fensive old man, too, and so far as re-
corded did not owe Gamage cent. one
| of the pleasures of driving seems to
horsemen of a certain negative lntelll-
gence that of making pedestrians jump.
Probably the person at the relns does
not intend to kill anybody. He mere
| Iy garners joy from observing the mar
row escapes. When the pedestrian
| fails to jump quickly enough or far
| enough and dies in his tracks the
horseman is temporarily disconnected,
and this seems to be the measure OF
his discomfort. It is time for an eX-
ample to be made, and as raw material
for the manufacture of an example
Gamage is available and promising.
The owner of a horse, unable to con-
troll the animal, has no business to
essay his fatal, Intellectual attempts on
a crowded thoroughfare. Probably the
fact has never peered above his men
tai horizon that fOotmen have rights,
but they have. 1 would not have such
offenders hanged for the first homicide,
but to be sentenced to a boXstal for
ten years or so, there to be fed on
Whitehall McCarty ration of hay,
would not be too severe. There are BIZ
cycle riders, also, furtive, cunning and
treacherous violators of the laws Of de-
cency and common sense, unbelled, un-
lamped and unarrested, scorching
their way to a place where the scorch-
ing business is supposed to have no in
termission, apparently eager to add to
the mortality list. They have not yet
scored a Gamage triumph, but with
cripples, children and nervous women
exposed to their high-geared assaults
soon or late they will.
Several kindly disposed people have
written to this department under the
impression that they were addressing
the Henry James who writes beautiful
books, in which he says nothing, but
says it so charmingly; who breaks into
the magazines, portrait and all. and
tries TO be as English as his good IA
ther was Yankee The announcement
must be made, and perhaps should be
made with regret, that there is a dis
tinction so wide L can see it myself.
The James 1 allude to is a literary
flower blooming in the garden Of
phrase. When a breeze of sentiment
strikes him he let's 1utter a petal or
two. I never liked his work, save as
specimens of ffawless shading, but it
suits many discriminating readers both
here and in the country of the authors
adoption. Few of them could give a
reason for it. On the contrary, the
humble architect of this column never
broke into any magazine and proba-
bly, could more easily break into a safe.
His portrait was never printed, in all
likelihood never will be, and I am
mighty certain never with his consent.
He never wrote a book expects never
to, and couldn't get it printed if he did.
He is a plain newspaper man, writing
with only the merit of sincerity and
fully assured that nothing he pens will
be remembered a day, and that he him
self would be forgotten in a week were
he to abandon present pursuits and en-
ter upon some useful industry like the
digging of bitches. He understands,
furthermore, and so in modesty drops
the first person. that this is considera-
bic space to devote to a matter not of
general interest. He merely desires to
square himself with the other Henry
James and state that the occasional
confusion in Identities is without con-
nivance on the part of this office. The
local man has no desire for credit for
the books and magazine articles of the
Londoner, and he doesn't propose that
the Londoner shall have credit for
roasting rogues, and telling people out
this way how to be good Neverthe-
less, it is the only name he has, and
when the Londoner conceives the name
to be overworked, he can take another.
for there will be no change at this end
of the line.
Kitchener of Khartoum explains that
the wounded Dervishes were killed
with every consideration for humanity.
1 assume from this that no instrument
tality more violent than chloroform
was employed. Or possibly the Der
wishes were not reckoned as constitut-
ing part of humanity.
The pesthouse here is a tangible bru-
tality, shame and a disgrace. The
unfortunates confined there, many of
them with no prospect of leaving un-
til borne to more acceptable quarters
in the cemetery, have fewer comforts
and worse accommodations than the
vagrants and thieves in Jail. They
are treated as no humane person would
treat dog. The blight of leprosy,
often a curse bestowed upon the inno-
cent, leaves some of them no shadow of
hope, and to most of these death would
be so welcome that were they to seek
it none could rebuke the impulse. Yet
the very rain which the State regards
as a blessing and for which good peo-
pie prayed adds to the misery of their
lot. The poor creatures have not so
much as a whole roof to shelter them.
They sleep in beds which catch the
drip from many a leak. Every breeze
carries away shingles from a covering
that has long been Intellectual against
a shower. There is no spot in which
a bed can be placed so as to certainly
escape a deluge. The dining room is
f1oored with series of puddles. Could
anything be more scanda1ously heart
less? If this city were to have a visi-