Evening journal., 1913-01-14
CECiLE
MurieI BaIly.

est tragedies are confined to the
smallest zones,-not geographically
but comprehensively.- the lives
the least capable of greatness oftimes
create the greatest havoc.
| have in mind a certain San Fran
cisco mystery some years ago when
& courts and criminals and indeed the
& world itself was a novelty to me and
{ the touch of tragedy was as unreal as
& the lack of it would seem today l
remember that a murder was COM
4 mitted and our dngy, elevatorless
s. building echoed to the five flight
4 tramp of hurrying feet and to the
s shouted orders of the Editor who tore
< his hair over the swiftly passing
3 hours and slowness of news results
81 And all of us,-men and women,-
& we're sent again and again. steadily
T but timlessly, over the territory in
Il the vicinity of Telegraph Hill And
81 when, fog-soaked and weary. we sank
into our seats at the little restaurant
s on Davis street. where sawdust and
fried cream were the chief attrac-
tions, the deepest impression that re-
manned with me was that of a store
2 full of galy singing canaries that we
2 had passed. in the midst of which
stood a drab figure with a frightened
: and hopeless face.
so watched a few days later as they
led this same drab figure into the
dock TO be arraigned and | listened
as they charged her with murder.
And as her name came to my ears
something struck an answering chord
in my memory. IL was not her face,
that as it showed with it's stamp
q of present and past memory | had
hcfOrn Npss ufa
figure, - dropping slatternly,-sborn
of its woman curves.-its God-meant
attractiveness. Yet there was some
& thing,-perhaps an aimless fruitless
manner of clasping her hands,-a
& closing of the lips or a lift of the
eyelids,-I had known her before
eomewhere.-s
Very alone she was and sadly pa
thetic. When they asked her to
plead she could not speak but looked
about her as though scarce under
standing the import of her position
Murder is something which, however
one may sympathize. can hardly be
excused. Yet l could not keep my
thoughts on the knowledge of hei
guilt. Somewhere I hat
known her
So, afterward. when they had taker
htA away udth TO ntI CELL IOi
lowed. To the officials she was
criminal: TO the guards she wal
something to be placed behind the
bars and watched without relaxa
tion that she might not, in a momen
of frenzy, do away with the poor rem
nant of her existence. That. i
the judge and jury pleased, was L
be the extreme qualification of thu
law
She crept to the bars and clung t
them. looking at me with a listlesl
and rather resentfu expression.
think she wondered why | should in
terfere with the stupefaction that hel
supreme misery had laid upon her
For there comes a time when
woman can suffer no more That is a
God willed it since she must be chile
bearer,-must endure the creates
heart and soul and body pain tha
the world can know
knew you before. did I not?7
asked her. who were you?"
She shrank away from me and ye
a brief interest crept into her eyes
and in that second | knew. Hoy
changed she was the gods who forge
could only realize. but out of tn
chaos of her life. or its deadenin
aufering something was left
"Cecile,' I cried. "Cecile, it is you
Don't you know me?'
Yes she said 81 knew you whe
] saw you,-in there
"Cecile.n and in my voice trie
to express my sympathy, what is tn
trouble2"
"The canaries." she answered
DULY, they killed us ALL"
And then l remembered again tn
little musical store in the low lyin
street beneath the wonderful hil
from which one can gaze upon tn
bay and glory in the Golden Gate an
glimpse the great Pacific Ocean. HOY
often her tired eyes must have gon
from her narrow window to the bar
rier of the brown hillside the Will
the. little golden balls of Gods de
light warbled then. natural songs o
freedom, that hillside which shut he
out so surely from the beautiful
things of life.
But" | gasped, you could no
have done it."
"Oh yes she said, "I killed her.
Her voice was quite calm. For quit
a while she looked at me and
# CLEAN OF the old Cecile whom | ha
known came into her eyes <'You ha
a chance, didn't your she asked.
We had trotted around in shor
skirts and pigtails together and ha
eaten our basket lunches. on tn
same bench in the old school-yart
81 She had been poor. but the demoC
racy of childhood cares nothing 70
riches If the spirit is right She ha
been a good girl.--the Church pee
pie had said so when the State ha
81 locked up her father and put ava
SCI her grief demented mother and LEI
H her at sixteen to look out for fou
young children And Cecile, frail bl
brave had done her best, scrubbed an
III bathed and taught and saved and su
fered,-neither God nor humanit
f cared what And Mary. the youngt
& girl was blind and Mary had III
81 beauty that the rest of them lackel
Cecile told me the story in hits a
day after day. held by a fascination
81 could not resist I went to sit befo,
her cell and talk with her Their
81 came time when she loved He wa
not the man she should have care
M for, but he was the man that sf
81 wanted,-and that is usually woman
way. The rest of Cecile's charges ha
swept away into the more or les
H useful portions. of society and on
Mary was left to claim the considers
tion and protection Of Cecile and h,
husband. But the husband was not
financial expert and Mary loved mus
so Cecile tried the bird store.