The San Francisco call. [volume], January 08, 1910, Page 3, Image 3

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

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"TJIK-SAN FRAXCTSCO CALL, SATURDAY, JANUARY 8, 1910.— TIT K JUNIOR CALD
THE TRAGEDY OF THE BOYS' PRANK
(TrnnalntM from the Krrnoh of J. N. Hmillly.)
IIV JO.sr.Pil DIMIAN FOR TIIM
JIIMOR CAM,
IN n vlllago near Paris thore was es
tablished for a long Jlnio aNpubllo
school directed by Mr. Gcrmont, a
niun of great merit, who combined
with his attachment for his pupils tho
prudence and the austerity necessary
to guide them' In, the paths of virtue
and who consequently enjoyed tho en
tire confidence of the people. In his
school were almost all the boys of the
town from 10 to 14 years of age.' He
combined so much art and patience in
developing tlie first impulses of their
Intelligence and In directing their
early tendencies, while imparting to
them the primitive ideas of religion,
moral and historic, that all the pupils
loved him dearly and respected him as
a father. The young men who had
been instructed at his school and were
established in business felt a sincere
gratitude and affection for him, of
which he every day received the most
llattering and touching proof. The
hearts of his pupils. In fact, were like
little, trees cultivated by an expert
horticulturist, which would soon cover
his white hairs*"' with a protecting
shade. £»",;. ,. .• ..
The pupils of the venerable Germont
formed, . so to speak; one large family,
Nothing unites children more intimate-,
ly • than the duties and sports incident
to the common work and progress of
a general domain . in which each one
takes his part. It was, like a flock of
lambs' grazing ' the' spring grassland
coming to caress- the hand of the old
shepherd who guided them.,,
Peace and. harmony reigned then in
the interior of \u25a0 Germont's institution,
I but as soon as the clock announced -the
end of the, study hours the movements
of the pupils quickened rapidly, their
eyes shone with the desire for liberty
so, long suppressed, and the prayer fin
ished, they poured out of the school
building like a torrent spreading over
si steep rock and abandoned themselves
to their play with all t:ie enthusiasm of
their age.
One hot July afternoon, while the
sun was' yet shedding its devouring
rays, they espied a young gird from 14
to If. years of age sleeping in the shade
of a wall near the church, her head
resting 'on a stone bench. Her clothes
bespoke poverty,, her head was pro
.tected by an old straw hat and her
face, which was covered with perspira-^
tion. had a.! remarkable expression for
one so young.
' "I recognize her," said one of the
boys named Kelix, the son of the car
riage maker. "It is Elisa Bernard, the
' daughter of a laborer who has a cow
and • from whom my father buys milk,
! and -which, -by the -way, is always ex
cellent—if we were to test it," lie
added, pointing to the big jar with two
iron handles which stood close to the .
t sleeping girl.
"I want to test it also," said an-"
plher~"miseh!cvous. youth, rolling his
tongue over, his, lips in: anticipation.
"That will. teach her not to go to sleep
when she should , be distributing . her
milk to her customers."
:Wlth: these words he went softly
toward the .sleeping girl on - tiptoes,
slpwly, uncovered . the J ; *- r and, taking
the tin.measure^attached.to the handle,
tilled it >\u25a0 with milk, which he gulped
down,' saying in a whisper, "Delicious,
upon my honor. • It ls / too bad that it
is so warm." .'";.", . . .
Felix drank in his turn, and, succes
sively, following .their example, the
dozen, children soon emptied the jar,
'while' the young, milkmaid still .lay in
v deep slumber. ,,
; "Let us go away a" little," said
Felix, "to enjoy, her surprise when she
awakes." . • , /
"Yes, yes," answered all his co'ih
rades in unison. "Oh! how we shall
Jaugh!" >,
They crept softly away, hiding in a
little alley which communicated with
the school , and from which they glanced
furtively at the. young girl, who very
soon awoke, and rising, took on her
arm the Jar of milk which she was to
distribute to her customers.
Surprised at Its lightness, she trem
blingly Removed tho , cover from the
jar and found It empty. At first she
feared that it had been cracked, but in
y that ,oase the spilled milk would be
shown in the soil, and of it thero ,was
no trace. While she. ' looked Vainly
around for the, cause 'oorf r this strange
occurrence the' children, laughed among
themselves at her,.erabarrassment and
uncertainty.. . Finally ..slio noticed some
milk in tho bottom of the tin meas
ure and, wjth % tears rushing to her
eyes, she exclaimed^
'.'...••Some one has drunk my milk!
Robbed me of our only Income since
m,y father was hurt and can not. work!
What will ho say when I go back
home without his medicine, which he
needs ho much? He is 'so impeti'ouH
und so quick— and my poor mother,
wl^o is waiting for > the .bread for our
supper! Oh! Wliat.will'becotnu of me?
lf,l should go t<> the l.ukcr and tho
chemist and tellythem what has hup
peited and ask , them, to ..give, me the
bread and the medicine for my father?
Oh, uo, they would ; never believe that
t |..luvve let somebody „ take my. milk,
there so close to me; they would he
auspicious of my conduct, and then my
father would .blamy.. me , for havini;
taken anything on credit.. Hy is naor,
my father, but? 1 he has the pride of an
old soldier and he would never forgive
me. But what is he going' to eat for
Ills supper, lie who is so much in need
of strength? .What can I do? What
Is going, to become of me?"- \u25a0'\u25a0 . \u25a0
The deep despair of Elisa terminated
the saucy laughter of the children.
They would have been only too willing
to return to the poor girl the milk
they had drunk without thinking that
it was the only resource of an honest
and poor family. They looked at each
other in that silence and .confusion
which tells of the troubles of the soul.
If they had had with them even, some
small pieces of money they, would have
made, a collection among themselves
and given to the unfortunate Elisa the
price of the milk that they had stolen.
Most of them received . 2 cents every
Thursday from their parents, upon re
ceipt of. a satisfactory report from
their venerable teacher, but they ex
pended It the same evening for/sticks
of candy \u25a0 which they bought of. the
good Mother -Michel; who kept the gro
cery store.- . ' -.\u25a0\u25a0.\u25a0,.
In a few minutes the children., still
peeping . . from the little alley of the
school, saw Elisa, who seemed to have
A Hazardous Wager
, Making wagers is by. no means a sen
aible. way of settling differences and
it is rarely that, so much, ingenuity
as well as nerve is displayed In a
dispute of this character as in the fol
lowing adventure, which took place a
century ago, when all-Mexico was Un-.
der Spanish rule:
A wealthy gentleman of Basque de
scent lived in the City of Mexico. He
was a good dfal of a madcap, and noted
for his daring eccentricities.
The reignyig viceroy, a Spanish
nobleman, was especially; objectionable .
to him.-and one day, when the Basque
gentleman was among some lively and
congenial friends, talk fell on! the law
which provided that none other than
the viceroy might drive about with
spotted horses. This was a privilege
which the viceroys were very zealous
in maintaining. Asa result of the dis
cussion, the' Basque gentleman wagered
with a Mexican marquis that he' would
himself hitch four spotted horses into
his coach and drive through the prin
cipal streets of Mexico. Twenty thou
sand dollars was the amount of the
wager.
:. In a few days " a handsome - coach,
'with four spotted horses, was driven
up. the main avenue of the city past
the present Iturblde 1 hotel to the very
gates of the viceregal palace.. Tlie
coach was driven several tlme3 up and
down in front of the palace, while
sentries presented arms, thinking It to
be the viceregal coach, . . \u0084.* .
Some one. ran upstairs and Informed
the viceroy himself of the presence' in
.the street of a coach with spotted
horses, and' out went the pompous
Spanish, viceking to a balcony to, see
with 1 his own eyes the defiance of his
privilege and infraction of the law,
Tho Basque gentleman leaned out of
the window, saluted the viceroy most
graciously, and then ordered the coach
man to enter the main courtyard of
the palace.
On reaching the very heart of the
viceregal authority tlie Basque alight
ed, passed gravely up the staircase to
the viceregal apartments and to the
astonished and dazed functionary said:
•"Knowing how- fond you wore of
horses, y ha va corner to present you
with a coach and; four as an expression
of lny'aincere admiration." * >.\u25a0.\u25a0
, The., vleeruy perforce had to accept
t,he handsome gift und could buy noth
ing; •:\u25a0 ••.<; -; ' . \u25a0>\u25a0 -\u25a0\u25a0 \u0084•!..: i ,
The. • coach and. horses cost three
thousand dollars, and, the clever Basque
pocketed .seventeen, thousand, -dollar*
profit .when the .w»B«r was settled.
recovered her courage, take the empty
jar under her arm and turn, resign
edly toward her home. They watched
her with an interest which none of
them- could suppress, and immediately
formed a council on what action they
should take, t 1 • ' ",'\u25a0;;
"First,", said Felix, with the impulse
of repentance and pity, "we will, not
suffer a brave soldier, who is ill, to go
without supper. I am going to tell
the whole story to my mother/ and I
am sure that 'she' will- give me \u25a0 enough
money to replace the medicine."
"And I," said another, confused' and
touched by, the sorrow of the young
girl, "pledge myself to provide the
supper ,of those, poor people. '\u25a0 -I am
going to ask my uncle, the baker, 'for
a four pound loaf of bread, and tell him
that it is for a charitable act." , . ,
"Aly friends," exclaimed <a ti>ird, "let
us* do better, and repair by ourselves
the wrong that we have done, and for
Svhich I suffer as much' as you. The
jar of milk which we emptied, if T am
not mistaken, -held 20 measures which
would have brought 2 cents each. Then
let us frankly, confess our fault to our
parents and beg them to. advance us our
week's allowance, and then we will go
The Undiscovered Country
Could; we but know
The land that ends our dark, uncer
tain travel.
Where lie those happier rills and mead-
ows, low-—/ x
; Ah. if beyond the spirit's inmost cavil
Aught of that country could wesurely
know,"
Who would not go?
/-.'\u25a0\u25a0.. \u25a0 "\u25a0\u25a0.' \u25a0\u25a0.\u25a0•".
Might we but hear
The ..hovering; angels' high Imagined
chorus*
Or catch, betimes, with wakeful eyes
and clear,'
One radiant vista of the realm before
Ah, who would'fear?
\u25a0To find the peerless friend who left
us" lonely,
Or, there by some celestial stream as
pure, \u25a0 \u25a0
To gaze in . eyes that here were
: lovelit only, . ; : . \u25a0
This weary, mortal coil, were we quite
sure.
Who would endure?
— Edmund Clarence Stedman.
Tree Doctor
Tree surgery is the. latest develop
ment, for centuries men have studied
the problem of saving trees, but tlie
first tree doctor is W. E. Davey of New
York, who has experimented and made
a scientific study of the subject. He
Is now instructing over -10 students in
this unique profession, so that before
long tree doctors promise to , become
fairly numerous. It has been noted
that many trees die from lack of prop
er nourishment; also from an Insuffi
ciency of air and water. Frequently the
roots need- treatment. Sometimes cer
tain parts die l from various causes.
"Doctor" Davey has made a careful
research Into these things, and collected
tho results Into scientific form.
Not long ago a much prised historic
tree at Winthrop, Mass., showed signs
of decay. ; It is over' 2so years old and
stands about 120 feet high." Tho citi
zens were bo loth to lose it that they
culled ,ln,u tree, doctor. -The soil wus
explored about the. roots » for :t radius
of 2Q feet; and! It was discovered -that,
the 'earth had become so exhausted of
the chemical materials required that
the tree was starving to death. Now
noil- ami plenty of moisture' seems' to
be giving v; lease of ;ilf«> to- 1 the old
veteran.
together and give to Ellsa's father tho
40 rents of which we have robbed him.
Thnt will be better than offering him a
four pound loaf. and. a bottle of modl
rlno, which would look like making
bint an object of charity."
That proposition was unanimously
adopted. Each pupil hurried to his
parents, from whom he" received In
advance the 2 rents of tlie coming
lluir.sday'.s allowance, riot without sonio
scoldings for the naughty act he had
committed,, and all gathering at the
same spot where the wrong had been
done, they started toward the residence
of iOllsa .Bernard/;
In, the, meantime, what had happened
to Elisa? -•
.When she. reached the door of her
house she hn«J scarcely strength enough
to go In. How, could she present her
self to her father and mother without
the usual provisions? Finally, trem
bling and hardly breathing, she went
forward with empty hands* and told
them frankly and truthfully of , the
strange and cruefMced of which she
was the innocent victim.
"Innocent!" cried' her father with
gr*>at anger and the excitement of an
old soldier. "And— why did you go to
sleep?"
"I was so tired, my father, and the
heat was so great." ,
"Do you know that they condemn to
death the sentry who goes to sleep?
It is you, alone, who are guilty!" And,
not intending to strike his daughter,
the old man in his excitement swung
his crutch, hitting her on the forehead
and inflicting, a wound from which, the
blood flowed rapidly.
Elisa fell to tho floor, and her mother,
terrified, 'picked her up .in her arms,
exclaiming: . . \u25a0 . . •
"My. daughter! My poor child! She
is dead.. she is dead!" • . ••
\u0084 ','No, no!" said Bernard, now- pale with'
fright. Wildly, accusing himself for
his excess of brutality he endeavored to
check the -blood; which was covering
the face and dress;of his daughter. ,
• It was at that'moment that the chil- 1
,dren appeared toreturn the price of the
milk they had drunk. Oh!' what was
their sensation and their surprise » at
• the^sight which, met their, eyes! ' Th»
young girl .was lying motionless fin the .
arms of her mother, who was "praying
for the mercy of God,. while the miser
able father tore his hair inj remorse and
despair.. They all threw themselves on
their, knees, praying, "Save , her, save
her! ,\u25a0 We alone are guilty." • V
Their penitent cries, soon brought
Elisaout. of -her, stupor.. Recovering
her senses, her first thought was to'
comfort her father and* mother. \u25a0 \u25a0
"Calm yourselves,", she implored, "it
is nothing.? ; ... . ( .
; . The'old soldier, tried to express to his
daughter hls ; contrition, and iwlth v his
eyes, full , of .'. tears 'begged her : pardon,
but hardly, was "the .word on his lips"
when.;Elisa: covered "themVwith hers.
And then.-turnlng to thechildren who
were greatly V agitated \u25a0 by A . the trying
scene, she said: , : . :k: k
• "I accept the price of the miiic that
you took from me, and I, believe that
you will always remember what has
happened under .s your eyes, ; the conse
quences; of jyour act.":
'"Oh," said : Felix, more affected -than
\u25a0 11ls s comrades, -; "i f Is I who am the most <
guilty, for. I first conceived the horrfd
thought of drinking your lmilk without
thinking of the results that could, fol
low. ;The blood that yet runs on; your
face will never, fade from my memory."
Then.iseeing that the day was com
ing, to an end and; that • nothing was as
yet prepared for, the supper, of the poor
family, j Felix "; proposed,.' to the other
children' that'; each one jgo to his par
ents and brlng'something for themeal.
VI will run to my, mother,", he 'added,
"and in a quarterof un hour I shall re
turn 1 , with some good; soup." * \u25a0\u25a0 '-\u25a0\u25a0"\u25a0:
"And ;I; I . with a: roasted goose/ ,ex
clalmed- v tha son- of the, hotel keeper of
'. tho village." \u0084 . !\u25a0\u25a0;'"\u25a0; •
'"And . I with three . big loaves of
bread,", added the baker's nephew.
Andfinally. there- was not one, of the
accomplices .who did ; not : offer, 'each ac
cording' to his means,, to: make repara
tion* for guilty blunder.
\u25a0 -\u0084"Well, I accept.; your..; ofterß," an
swered. Bernard, "but it. i is on the con
dition that you will all', return, and
take with us. the supper of, reconcllla-.
tlon. Everything will bo forgotten ex
cept the blow that I gave Elisa," and
again clasping her In hla arms ho
pressed his trembling lips to the'wound
that he had made, crying,' "To shed. the
blood of ' the enemy, very good— but
the blood of one's own child! OhJ I
'shall never forgive myself."
He foretold the truth, tho old soldier,
for never' again, as long au he lived,
: could ! he 'look at Ins daughter without
feeling; tho keenest, sorrow .and regret.
.The children, for their: part, wore ex
posed to tho humiliating ridicule of
tho villagers and their, schoolmates, by
whom they were dubbed "rallk drink
ers," and whenever '.they, '"met Kllsu
liernard, 'who became onu of the most
beautiful girls in tlie county, they
dropped their eyes before her, the big
near* over- her left "eye giving Uhem a
secret pain, that the kind ffirl endeu-v
(..reil u< u.oothe.by a smile ,and a hand
nliai(ti, which only, humiliated them the
"more."
V And thus it Is that no mutter, how
mil Clf one desires to expiate n grave
fault, it remains like an 'impure stain
on a white cloth, ineffaceable:/.
3