The San Francisco call., 1910-10-23

She couldn't understand it-"Jaek'
Arnold. who knew all the great people
In the world, and had seen all the
beautiful women. most surely! All,
well, he had asked her TO marry him,
and here she was after go miles OF
mountain trails to the railroad. then to
Eureka. and then by the Corona to San
Francisco. where he met her at the
wharf and brought her up through the
brawling streets. the Eplendor OF the
night, on cable car that changed and
clamored along q mighty hfil and shot
them forth on wet, north slope OF
the bewildering city. One didn't need
to know-ope could just trust when
one had lover like this-so sure, so
strong. so superior that even down
town., in the jeering hubbub under
an avalanche OF lights rocked In a sea
OF hurrying faces, he could pause to be
gentle, to be kind and merry, asking
OF her comfort and buying her bunch
Of violets- Now, standing before the
mirror in his room, she crushed the
violets against her beating heart and
stif1ed her pride in him, her joy to be
alive, her gratefulness to God.
The ways of her life had slipped, the
huge world had engulfed her; she could
only cling to him, believe in him, love
him. She stared at the misty eyes of
the girl in the mirror, finding now that
her lips were moving in prayer: 20
God, make me good, very good, and
help him to be good-but know he's
goodl" she broke IN with a sturdy little
defiance of some of the doubts the
Ladies' Aid bad held concerning a man
who had been in the show business,
soldier across seas and a wanderer at
home.
She fiuffed the last girlishly wayward
bit OF hair, and Strengthened the little
1-,a % bof lyQr in
Eureka had evolved from a whole pink
sheetful of Partisan creations. Beneath
the jacket pinned to the bodice was a
needlecase that contained ten thousand
dollars in new bills.
You'd Better have Mr.. Arnold deposit
the money at once, dearie,' said the
wife Of the president of the South Fork
lumber company, after Sylvia had
signed the papers which gave half her
redwoods to the mills. What bank
does he deal through in the city?"
Sylvia did not know. John Hamilton
Arnold, himself, would have been puZ-
zled by the question. Just now, in the
rainy dark of the balcony, as he waited
for HIS bride to be. he was absently
tearing up a pasteboard.
''Bluebell at 6 to L. murmured Mr..
Arnold. 'T wonder If the mare has
got home YETI"
He was thinking it rather pity that
his country sweetheart had come this
uniucky afternoon, when the book max
ers had happened to break" him. When
he met Sylvia at the wharf he had %
cents, 10 for carfare, Is for her violets.
And then tonight was the lightweight
fight at Woodward's gardens for the
championship of the world, and though
he had no money he and Louis Ferreri,
the slot machine agent, could get box
seats from Supervisor McDermott or
Deputy Sheriff Jack Holman or any of
the city hall push" through whose Ia
vor the sport f1ourished; or even from
Jimmie Kaufman himself. clerl0of cne
superior court and impresario for the
pugilists who was always amenabfe
for passes when approached by. one
who had political backing. And Ham
my Arnold was "close up" at the city
hall, it was said; closer than any man
to Police Commissioner Stillman, who
dominated the night life Of the town
Upon his reverie, as he watched a
cable car rising along the hill above
the humming slot, with a fitting aura
of yellow light showing the grass tufts
between the cobbles, to vanish in the
cloudy heights above, came Sylvia with
a pleasing suggestion of violets and
women's scented stuff. The little blue
hat. matching the jacket, was roguishly
atilt over her hair. which still held a
rain sparkle here and there.
MY picture girl" he cried again and
bowed with that grand raillery which
puzzled her, but at which she always
laughed; then kissed her hand with the
curious humility that puzzled her still
more. Now we'll dine. You mustn't
mind the crowd downstairs If they
stare They're queer but you'll like
some of theIn-Sweet Melody and
Sammy, the fat, freckled poet who can
write anything, under the sun, but can't
get it published"
IF they're your friends. Mr.. Arnold"
Miss Spring said adorably. they're all
right, I known
Mary Melody is lame and she's a
shop girl at Solinskys, but IL Sammy
ever gets a few epics and things on the
market he's going to marry Sweet Mel
lody because she's not strong enough
TO work. We laid that out to Sammy
long agor'
Sylvia laughed as they went down
the rickety steps A single gas light
at the corner Of Happy alley showed the
front of the Family liquor store, In the
window of which was Unc' Pop Radke's
fyspecked pyramid Of paper whisky
cartons. Arnold opened side door,
lifted his bride to be down a step. and
she was fn--a ealooni
From among gray casks uprose Unc'
Pop, a dripping measure of red wine
from many apoplectic pulls at the 81
phon with which he coaxed the raw
claret from the bungs. The bar Of the
Family liquor store was no bigger than
a bedroom; the green topped card ia
BILE, the lunch shelf with its cheese
cubes, bloodwurst, crackers and mus
tard pot, the vast wine tuns and steam
beer barrels took up most of the space.
The back bar mirror was draped in
pink net with gay butterfly calendars
pinned to the voluminous folds, while
below was Uncle Pops solemn array
of case goods-vermouths and char
treuses and picons which no patron Of
the Family liquor store ever drank, not
even Louis Ferreri, the slot machine
man, who had a diamond In his watch
fob and two in his cuff links, to say
nothing of his scarf pins. and there
fore should know what was in bottles
formidabIy inscribed and warranted.
On this back bar were Uncle
Pops glasses, graduated like a decent
family out for an airing, the big alder
manic biers leading the way, the lady
like punch and clarets. with graceful
stems. following. the ports and sherries,
like schoolgirls. less full bosomed;
while behind toddled the waistiess
whisky ponies" and the stubby legged
liQueurs and cordials, an infantile crew
with shining faces striving to keep pace
with their elders.