The San Francisco call. [volume], March 26, 1899, Page 19, Image 19

About The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913

Image provided by: University of California, Riverside; Riverside, CA

                
CALIFORNIA GIRL IS HEIRESS TO NEARLY TEW MILLION DOLLARS.
I HAVE had my wish. Tan mil
lion dollars In gold is mine. I
am rich: I am rich! Good-by to
nare and work.
Po epoke Elsie Tyson in the kitch
en of a Humboldt County farm a
few days apo.
In the livinpr room of the farmhouse pat
Thomas Wilson, a lawyer from Sydney,
Australia, who a few moments before had
told Elsie that she was her uncle's heir
ess and could draw on his lawyers for
any amount till the estate is finally set
tled.
When he. first told us Elsie was dum
founded, and I thought the young Eng
lishman -was Joking. But he wasn't. He
had traveled almost around the world
searching for Elsie, and once having
found her lost no time In telling her of
her good fortune.
"You see," he told me afterward. "1
had no doubt of the. ynunp woman's Iden
tity, for Elsie- Tyson resembles her uncle
so strongly that I could have picked her
out of a crowd."
Then I went into the kitchen, where
Elsie was. She had slipped from her
chair onto the floor and snt all doubled
up with her h^ad in her hand.
"Do you know, I almost fainted when
Mr. Wilson told m* of my good fortune."
phe said, ss I laid my hand on her tum
bied hair. "We all thought that T'nrle
Jamrs was dead years ago. We had
heard that he was wealthy— but $10,000,
--000! I had no idea that it was so much.
And now it Is all mine. Do you hear me,
Carrie? I am rich. I can buy the world.
Everj body will be happy. Oh, I am going
to do lots of Rood.
"No more suffering from poverty, be
ca'.iso 1 know what poverty is. It crushed
out my father's heart and took my moth
er's life. My brothers and sisters died
because of poverty. No, no, no. there will
more poverty, because I have $10,
--• and will stop all the heartaches in
the world."
And then Elsie Tyson forgot, tempor
arily, all that had made her life worth
the living. She had had her trials and
cares but she had also had her joys. Her
simple rural pleasures she now put be
hind her. Her chickens and ducks and
turkeys, the little Jersey calf, her pig
eons, her birds, her flowers and even the
neighbors she loved, all seemed to go out
of her mind. She must begin using that
$10,000,000.
I tried to get her to tell me the details
of how she came by her good fortune,
but she couldn't do it. Her mind was
on other things. I told her it was time
to teed the turkeys, but she told me to
do it. "You may have them all, Car
rie." she said. "I have $10,000,000 to spend
and have no time to look after poultry."
Attorney Wilson came prepared to take
away his heiress In proper style. "Here's
a little to start with," he said as he emp
tied a leather money belt on the rough
kitchen table.
Gold, silver and bank notes lay in a
glittering heap. It dazzled Elsie, even
though it -was all hers, and it dazzled all
th« rest of us. "Ten thousand dollars,"
said Mr. Wilson, counting over the treas
ure. "I guess that will last until you get
to San Francisco, where we can get con
nection with the Bank of England, so I
can identify you and arrange it so you
can write checks for almost any amount
you wish. You are indeed a fortunate
girl."
The next morning an aunt of Mr. "Wil
son's arrived at the Humboldt County
farmhouse, and that afternoon the three
left for Pan Francisco. It was arranged
that "Elsie should stay at the home of
Mr. Wil=nns relatives until the final
proofs were made and she would be sole
mistress over one of the largest estates
!n Australia. In the meantime she could
Bpend the (10,900 as she saw fit.
"And your credit will be good for many
times that amount." said Mr. Wilson,
"as soon as you are known at the
banks."
All day long on that last day at the
farm Elsie danced through the house. "I
am rich! I am rich:" she kept saying.
<a no never wont near the old treasures of
her ■art. They were as if they never
had been. "Let me get away quick. I
must see the world; I must know joy;
I must know greatness. I am so happy.
And to think that T am to make every
body else happy. Oh. this is joy. This i 3
happiness. This Is life."
Bofor^ leaving the old HumboMt Coun
ty farm Elsie gave liberally to everybody.
The friends who had given her a home
after her mother's death were well pro
vided for. Bui Elsie went away without
a regret. As she climbed onto the. stage
Phe waved her hand as gayly as if she
•wore only going to a picnic. Instead of
leaving her best friends forever.
"She's as heartless as a stone," I
thought as I saw the stags roll over the
distant hill, and went into the farmyard
to look after the flocks that a few days
before had been such a pleasure to her.
A few days later I saw Elsie in San
Francisco, domiciled in an elegant home,
Burrounded by every luxury, with every
want supplied.
'•Oh, T am so unhappy," were her first
words a = she came forward to greet me.
'N"f>w that I ran have everything T want,
I don't know what I want. Everything
is arranged, and I am going to start for
Bydney, Australia, by way of Scotland,
next week. You know, all my people
•were Scotch."
"But you will enjoy the trip." I paid.
'"No. no." Phe answered, "I will not.
How Is my dear old white hen? Did she
hatch any chickens? You know they
Should have come out last Thursday.
And the big gobbler? I>o my ducks quack
as loudly aa they used to? Sometime* I
used to think they made too mu"h noise,
law I would give worlds to hear
them. The <lp;!r things, they used to give
m» so much pleasure."
"But you have money now, Elsie."
Bald, "and can have all th« ducks and
chickens and things that you want."
The heiress to $10,000,000 grave me a look
I shal! never forget.
"Money!" she said scornfully. "Money
will not buy true friends; it will not huy
a home; it will not buy my dear old
white hen; it will nnt buy living beings
that love you. I would just like to hold
the old white her in my hand .and prrr-s
rt down against my cheek. No,
money will not buy that feeling.
"Aii this money has only brought me
loneliness. If father and mother and
•rs and sisters were only alive. It
would be different. I could use it to
make them happy. But I can only spend
it on myself, and when T fee! that I ■■mi
have anything I wish there is ho satis
far 1 ion in having It. 1 went into a big
jewelry store last week ar.d saw dia
monds by the handful. They were beau
tiful and worth thousands and thousands
of dollars, bui I saw :io object in hay-
Ing them. They were no more out of my
reach than a hand/ul of pebbles would
have been a few weeks ago.
•'Then I went over to the big: hotel
across the way. T had, when I once saw
it long r:g n . thought that I would like
to live there. But the charm had Bed.
They showed me through the gilded
room? fgmlshed In silk and velvet. They
showed me works of art and bric-a-brac.
But it was cold, cheerless, empty and
lonesome xnd made me long for my cozy
room In the Humboldt County forest.
There was love and affection up there.
"I have been everywhere; to the opera,
the theaters, concerts and have seen all
the Interesting points of San Francisco.
I have bought a wardrobe of fine clothes,
but they don't give me the pleasure that
my 'best dress" used to, even though It
cost only a few dollars.
"Wherever I turn is poverty that I can
not relieve. T gave a beggar a large sum
the other day. expecting that he would
at once rush home and bring joy to his
Ing family. But ho didn't even
seem thankful. Tie put the money In his
; 1 ket Just ss a banker would and kept
right on begging for more.
"Just how all this money can bring me
joy is more than I can* see. It la nice to
have it and know that poverty 1? no
more, but I wish— l don't know what I
wish, except that I am unhappy. Per
haps if the money had never oome to
me I might never have known the pain
of having: it. but now it almost drives
me frantic with the fear that I may
lose it.
"And then to think of how T come hy
it. Poor old Vnolc James died all alone
in a rough cabin away out in the wilds
of Australia. I don't suppose ho over
hoard of me, and now all his wealth is
mine.
"They say ho lonkod like father, and I
can almost sop him now as )u lay groan
ing in jiain on his rough bod all alone,
just as T am now."
Thon Elsie Tyson burst into trars and
I kn<-w that her heart was not as hard
us it had seemed to mo on that day when
she drove away from the Humboldt
County farm. U-aving poverty and hap
piness behind her and going out into the
world to take her place in the ranks of
wealth.
Thon Elsie told mo the story of h<--r
father's family and the chain of strange
Incidents that led up to hor fortune. It
is a long story and goes back m the bo
ginning of the century. At that time
thoro lived in a little town in Scotland,
on the ostato of tho Puke of Argylc, a
farmer namod Thomas Tyson. There was
a groat graystone old-fashioned house
with parlors furnished with -precise
squarely sot furniture, always darkened
and lockod except on very state occa
sions. Little less than a wedding or fun
eral ever saw tho front of the house in
use. All tho lifo centered around the
grent brick-flOored kitchen, whero the
big joints turned on the spits before the
kitohon fro.
Then there were already five little sons
playing about the farmyard among the
calvea and poultry. The eldest, a boy
of only 11 years, knew that he would
have to make his own way in the world
and leave the old place to take care of
the others. His father, a hard-hearted
Scotchman, said "Very well," but the
mother's heart ached as. she put into the
new tin trunk the clothing she had made
for her son. his only earnest of the for
tune he was to find In far-off Australia.
So the boy left home. It was months
before they heard from him, but at last
a letter, like the first chapter from ' Rob
inson Crusoe," came to the quiet old
"home, farm." Many letters passed be
tween the mother and her boy. When
the mother had been dead 40 years and
her boy was an old man of 70 these old
letters were found in the iron box where
James Tyson kept his deeds and the re
ceipts of'alt his great wealth. When he
was dead these letters were used to
trace his birth back to Scotland. The
old church register told Mr. Wilson, the
attorney, that three of tho sons and four
daughters born after James went to Aus
tralia lay buried with their parents out
side in the churchyard. The name of
one son only. Thomns. appeared beside
James on the !>irth record and not among
the deaths.
Where was Thomas? He had married
"FMz-i Coates,. spin.=ter." 4S years brfore
and sailed for America. Twenty years
later, at hi* father's denrh. he had re
turned and settled up his father's estate
and gone back to America.
Attorney Wilson followed the trail of
Thomas to America and to the only ad
dress he had— that given In a letter from
a little hoy. ".Jimmle," who wrote to hl3
uncle In Australia 32 yrars ago.
It took the lawyer to Orange, N. Y.
There he found the record of little Jlm
mie's death as "eldest son" of Thomas
and Eliza Tyson.
"Of course," said Mr. Wilson, "T rea-
Foned if Jinimie were the 'eldest son'
there must be younger ones. T could find
r.o trace of the family and every one
had forgotten them. Almost despairing
of the lost heirs. I started into the ceme
tery where Jimmie was burled. I was
surprised to se<» that the little grave was
in mv."h better condition than any of the
other gra\ es. There was some attempt
at flowers and the little marble cross had
evidently been placed on the gray« much
■ Inter than the grave Itself had been
made. It gave me an idea. I hunted up
the old verger, or caretaker, as you call
him. He was as decrepit as the graves
he kept. But lie had a bright little
grandchild. While I was asking about
the grave she exclaimed:
"■<>h, grandpa. T know. That In the
grave the lady used to write about, and
she sent some money. No. don't you re
member? I had some of the money be
cause I kept the weeds pulled up. Oh, I
remember.'
" 'Can't you find me one of those old
letters?' I asked.
"The little girl ran up stairs and pretty
soon cam" down all dusty, with her
checks red with excitement. She had a
bundle of letters, and I found jnveral
written by Eliza Coates and giving ncr
address.
"I went to Illinois. The house was gone
whose number Mrs. Tyson had given. I
went to the records again and the ceme
tery. There were, five little Tyson graves,
nand with them the grave of father Thor
THE SAN FKANCISCO CALL,, SUNDAY, MAECH 26, 1899.
as Tyson. But I found a woman who
had known the family, and she told me
about them. After hor husband's death
Mr?. Kliza Tysnn sold what property they
had, and with Elsie, the only child left of
her family of seven children, she came
out to California."
"Yes," interjected Miss Tyson, telling
her part of the story. "Mother's health
was very poor. I think it was trouble
which broke her down. When Jimmie
died she could not bear to stay in
(•r;u:ge, so father sold the place and we
went to Illinois. Then the first winter
my sister Nellie was born, and Tommie
and Mollie died. Then Jack died:
he was 8 years old and the only boy, and
father never got over the shock of hi a
death. Little Jack fell off the barn,
where he was helping father shingle, and
father blamed himself for lotting him go
up with him. Then Nellie died.. I was
tho oldest in the family, and I have
closed the eyes of every one of my broth
ers and sisters, except only Jimmie, and
his death, and being carried to his bod in
the night to say good>by to him. while
my father held me in his arms and some
one else stood near holding two candles,
is the first of my life that I remember.
It has all been like that night.
"Mother and I came to Southern Cali
fornia. Wo had only about $7'Yi and no
way of earning much more. We rented
a little placeand I raised chickens. Mother
had everything she needed, but she was
always worrying about me. I did not
• I only wanted her to live. She
died, though, and then I could not bear
to stay in th" house alono. I felt all the
time as if she must come back, and every
time a door opened I looked up, expecting
to sop her.
"Then some neighbors were going t/>
move up here. They came up to take up
a homestead and raise sheep. They a.-ked
me to come with them, and I did. Every
thing I had in the world till last week
was my stock of turkeys and chickens
and ducks. It seems strange. Just as I
had got used to the life, and I love the
mountains; they are good company when
all your folks are dead."
Miss Tyson is quite at home In her lux
urious surroundings, for Attorney Wilson
has placed her where she can want for
nothing more. No one would imagine
that tho quiet little woman, going and
coming in her shopping, had Just fallen
heir to so much property. She is getting
some "clothes as are clothes." She Is a
country bred woman with simple man
ners, which belong with a genuine
straightforward character.
•'I keep finding myself economizing; it
is second nature." she said. "But money
is nice. It is nice to think It is there.
I really rather like It all. But It Isn't
what you would think it would be. I am
not different a bit. You might think it
would be like an earthquake, with me, and
that I WOUld feel different. I don't. I
only feel that I am alone, and keep think
ing if mother and .Nellie and Jack and
father and all the rest were, only here.
"I was <*o interested tn every r.hicken
and turkey, and whi>n a coyote got five
of my chirks I believe I thought more
about it than T do about this money. I
had no time to think of anything elite,
and I did not often feel lonesome. Rut,
now? Why, I only have to think of what
I want, and T know I can't have what I
really want, and so I don't want what
I have.
"I never was bo sad. so unhappy In
all my life. I o you know I don t even
know whom I can help, m love- to give.
things to thi.se. who need as motier and
] used to, but I don't know anybody and
everything is so strange.- I'm homesick
already, and I have no home now, only
a ;ot of money. Even the old home in
Humboldt will be different, for I, of
course, shall give them just as much
money as they can use. All this money
is liko the ocean, and T don't believe I'll
ever grow a tall and fins so I can swim
in it."
"She Is not unlike old Tyson," Mr. Wil
son said. "She has very much the same
disposition— Scotch and square-cut, which
nothing can make any different. His
history is almost a history of the pas
toral industry of Australia. He went to
the 'bush' so young that he became a
perfect example of the bushmen who
have made Australia what It Is. They
are moztiy all dead. He was queer, ac
cording *o our notions, but he considered
us and our ways much more 'queer. He
began fi'-st as Rheep herder on a big sta
tion. His ambition was to own a sta
tion. When only a boy he had save.i a
few hundred pounds and went down to
Sydney to buy cattle to stock a range.
"In those days any one could take land,
for they were all 'squatters.' But Tyson
did not get his cattle. The man who
was his partner went further than Syd
ney and never came back. When Tyson
got to Sydney he found he had no money
bo he -went back. He followed the Murray
River, walking and living on fish and
game. When he Btruck across country
he was lost and nearly starved to death.
Then when he arrived at his employer's
they were having station trouble with
the natives. No one who Is not an Aus
tralian can quite comprehend what the
black fellows are. They are worse than
She Is an Orphan and Was Feeding Her Chickens on a .Moun
tain Farm When the Lawyer Searching for Her Brought
the .News From Jlustralia.
Bayß tfoe Big Fortune .Has Brought Jiep Un happiness, Because She <Nevep Felt So "Lonely" Before.
snakes. They are the meanest, lowest,
most indecent animal in existence. They
have not one good trait.
"Tyson was a leader In the 'round-up,'
which is called the blackest spot in the
history of Australia. To his dying day
Tyson believed heartily that those dozen
squatters did a service for which they
should have been publicly honored by
their countrymen. Tn ridinj? over his
raiiße the son of a cattleman was killed
by natives. Hla murder was but one of
dozens, unprovoked and without cause.
The squatters decided to take matters
into their own hands. They formed a
cordon and drove all the black fellows,
men, women and children, into a pad
dock, just as they rounded up cattle,.
Then they phot every living; one of them.
It ended the troubles with the natives
for a time even more effectually than the
poisoning had done a few years before.
Mr. Tyson'P first year? In Australia were
filled with reverses which would have
overcome ;t weaker man. but he held on.
His dream in early years was to own a
cattle station of his own. Once he had
enough money saved from five years of
hard labor to set up for himself on the
Blllytong River. He had purchased part
of his bullocks, when the bank where his
money was deposited failed. He lost ev
ery penny and had to go back to work.
Three times misfortune took every -cent
from him. Then came the discovery of
gold in the Bendigo mines. Tyson started
at once for 'the diggings, but not with a
shovel. He bought all the bullocks he
could and drove them toward the mines.
There he sold them at an Immense profit,
and then bought more and sold them. He
bought cattle wherever he could and
drove them to the mines, and that was
the beginning of his fortune. Then he
bought land and droves of sheep and cat
tle, and everything he touched prospered.
He had no idea of his wealth. When he
pnld his beeves he sent the money to his
agents in Sydney and they bought la.ml
and built blocks for him. He would go to
Sydney only when he was obliged to
do so.
"I tried to get him to do the town once,"
Mr. Wilson said, "but he would not. To
ward night he got on his Horse as usual
and rode outside the town. He foiind
an open place and under a tree lay down
on the ground with his saddle for a pil
low. On questions of religion his creed
was as pimple as the rest of his life, and
he cared nothing of what people said of
him. It ain't my business,' he used to
say. 'I do what I think in seriously right.
I stand to tnke my chance, and I am not
afraid.' I once asked him if he were
happy in his lonely life, for he lived
alone in his cabin, owning the land for
scores of miles in every direction. His
repiv W&8: 'You see. the fun is In the little
gamp. Every man who chooses has vis
little game, with a fair chance of winning
if he keeps straight. Tt ir, better worth
his while to do what he thinks is seri
ously right. If ho does not he is bound
to lose. Yes, T have had my little game
and enjoyed it, and I am as happy as
most people.'
"Mr. Tyson never married, and never
Haw but one woman he wanted to marry.
He had not the nerve to even suggest it
to her. He saw her only twice, and yet
all bis life he kept her image with him—
his idenh
Mr. Wilson, who knew the old man.
James Tyson, as well as any one could
know him. says his niece is not unlike
him in appearance and character. Going
to Australia so young. Mr. Tyson grew up
to be a typical Australian of the class
that is almost extinct. Simple, frugal,
honest, he had no use for the money he
amassed. Tie was a man more than six
fpet in height, he had never been sick in
his life, and was wont to boast that he
had never slept In a city, never worn a
white shirt, never washed with soap-he
used sand— never been inside a church, a
theater, a school or a public house. He
considered a church just as bad as a pub
lic house, if not worse. A clergyman was
to him an unfathomable mystery. As New
South "Wales increased in population a
church was nepded on one corner of Mr.
Tysons land where a village had grown,
up. After a great deal of discussion, it
was decided to fisW Mr. Tyson to help the
church, though he had never been known
to give away money.
"Yes, I'll help you," he replieJ. "Send
me the bill for the whole thing. I'll pay
it, but don't come to me again." He wrote
out a check forthwith not only fir the
cost of the church and furnishing but also
for a year's salary for the rector. The
next year the trustees of the church asked
Mr. Tyson's assistance again. The old
man was very angry. "I gave the Al
mighty a house. ' If he can't take care of
it he is not worth helping." he said, and
not another cent would he give.
"Mr. Tyson had no idea of the value or
the .power of his wealth. He cared not
a bit what was done with the money
which his fortune earned.
" 'You know about handling the stuff,'
he would say to his lawyers 'just you
buy whatever wnl pay best.'
"lie never questioned the investment. He
wore to the end shabby, ready-made
clothes— the cheapest in the market. His
cabin he cared for himself, and never,
unless under the most urgent circum
stances, would he sleep away from home.
"We often tried to get him to make his
will, but he would put us off with a
chuckling laugh.
" 'You lawyers know everything. You'll
miss mr> and want sompthing to do when
I'm dead. You can find some one who
wll! take the money and things off your
hands.'
"It was only after his deßth that we
found that he had come from Argyle.
He never spoke about his antecedents."
"Now he is dead and gone, and the only
living relative he has In the world will
go out to inherit his millions.
"I do not know what I'm going to do
yet," she said. "I shall Rive everything
they can use to the friends who have been
kind to me.
"Mr. Wilson says that will scarcely be
one day's Income. T suppose T shall get
used to having so much money. Some
times I like to think how rich I am or
shall be. but I never" felt so lonely in my
life. I am going to travel, and I shall
study and have masters and all that— l
do not know what else.
"There is so much— it is more than T
can understand. Now that T can have
everything 1 do not know what I want."
If you cannot understand why your
toothache grows as the sun sinks below
the horizon, and why, when you are lying
in your bed, tearing pains in your ears,
head and eyes are added to your miseries,
read what Dr. Goldschelder has to say in
the Journal of Nursing.
"Light." says the professor, "has a
quieting' effect on the nerves; hence it
heals more and quicker than do medi
cines. It plays a very important part in
the pathology of pain. This is especially
noticeable by persons addicted to worry,
or those who are in any way oppressed.
Their seemingly jolly disposition during
the day is completely transformed as
night draws on; while in bed they become
greatly distressed, and insomnia is the
result. Such persons usually find tempo
rary relief by lighting the gas or by sit
ting up till the gray light of the morn
begins to appear.
"There are any number of persons who
cannot sleep without the sun's rays beam
ing directly down upon them. These per
sons have acquired this as a habit from
■ heir youth.
"But it is a poor rule that does no*
work both ways. The darkest night hal
its Rood qualities, for there are headaches
which Will not disappear until all tht
light is excluded from the room the pa
tient is in. Nervous, excitable persona
when their state of excitement becomes
unendurable, will find wonderful relief if
they sit for only a quarter of an hour ir
a room completely darkened. Therefore,
in such cases, a total relaxation from
work several times during the day is es
pecially to be recommended."
There Is no plant which animals so de
test as the castor-oil plant. A goat will
starve rather than eat it, and those de
stroyers of everything green, the locust
and army worm, will not feed upon It.
\ blind bat avoids wires and obstruc
tions as easily as if it could see per
fectly.
19