The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1901-11-17

TIE case. lnSTe is nOLIlnS more us
treSSing than to see pretty girl at a
party trying to interest a languid, bored
young man, who feebly responds to her
advances. with the same air, If slightly
yelled, of having "a stick to keep the
girls away" which prevails in less ele-
waited circles.
Then again, the hurry and scurry are
SO terrible. Society is enormous and fed
to rcpletion. The area in which calls
have to be paid is appalling, and the ia
tigue of this particular duty such that L
feel sure our successors will dispense with
1t altogether or adopt some more conven-
lent form of conveying the fact that they
are in town or wish to be on visiting terms
with some one.
the worlds progress in science, has said:
The nineteenth century received from it's
predecessors the horse; we bequeath the
locomotive, the bicycle and the automo-
bile. We received the sailing ship; we be-
queath the steamship We received the
beacon signal fire; we bequeath the tele
phone and wireless biography All these
discoveries have had a deep and lasting
influence on society, but whether for good
or i'll. who shall say?
Saturday Monday Jaunts.
In any case, if the aim and object of
society is to enable persons of wealth
and leisure to spend their lives agreeably
laws and self-imposed restrictions, L
doubt whether that result has been at
tanned as matters stand.
Formerly the great dining days for the
London world were Wednesdays and Sat-
urGayS, these days being free from House
of Commons duties, but now the former
only remains to the giver or eater of
dinners Saturday is devoted to a hop,
skip and jump visit into the country till
the following Monday. These flying visits
are no rest to the overtaxed wording
or to the tired official or litterateur, and
the amount of fresh air each is able to
imbibe must be considerably counterbal
anced in it's tonic properties by the ener-
waiting effects of overgood cheer the reac-
tion which follows. the airy stimulus of
champagne and the deteriorating effects
on what our doctors are pleased to call the
nerves by a rapid railway journey
down to the country and up again to
town within a limited number of hours.
Add to this that we are nearly all of us
trying to drive four horses while we
stand precariously balanced on the backs
cial pleasures" duties to match, phn-
anthropy, education, literary, artistic or
athletic avocations, to which we may add
various forms of serious gambling either
on the Stock Exchange Or in the drawing
room, we can scarcely pause to enjoy
what we have most desired, labOred to
acquire and at length obtained. Such, for
instance, | may say, in the unfortunate
case OF certain persons with Old-faSh-
Toned views of the family tie. is the re-
suit of the stress of modern life that we
hardly ever see those most dear to us
our husbands or our children: they are
all swallowed up, the former in meeting
the terrific competition which confronts
them in every career, our sons in passing
competitive examinations until they are
well on into the thirties, our daughters in
tearing from one house to another, from
one dinner dance to the next, or in TAX
ing up what they fondly believe to be
some serious study, which occupies their
time If not their minds, and deceives the
empty heart with artificial food just as
starving men devour the most innutri-
tious substances.
Bachelor" Girls Not Happy.
This special development of our social
cdihce rests on the gradually acquired
bachelor" habits of our girls. partly ow-
ing to the greater safety and rapidity
with which they can move about the
world; their wider knowledge of life so
acquired, which fits them in a measure to
protect themselves, and lastly. on their
more extensive education.
Are they happier? l shrewdly suspect
not. The charmed veil Of mystery which
made Of their mothers and .grandmothers
longed for prizes, whose society could
scarcely be enjoyed in fullness, has
dropped from our lovely, athletic, accom-
plished, but prosaic young women, whom
ambulance classes and lectures on physi-