The San Francisco call. [volume], December 05, 1913, Image 13

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

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

                
Society Consists of Cake and Late Hours, and Doing One's Thinking Next Day With a Piece of Leather
The Call's Magazine and Fiction Pages
Their Married
Life
Helen's First Experience at a
Turkisji Bath Is Most
Illuminating
By MABEL HERBERT URNER
HELEN drew the sheet closer about
her as they entered the hot room,
the.air was stifling, and even the
floor felt hot to her bare feet.
A, number of women clad only ln
fcaeets were leaning back ln the deck
chairs, tkat lined the wall. They
ail Sipping water and holding
ice cletbs on their heads.
The., pretty attendant led Helen
and Mrs, Stevens to the chairs near
the end of the room and brought
thjem • each a cup of water and a
towel wrapped piece of ice.
, "Try. -to drink a lot of water while
you're in-here," advised Mrs. Stevens.
*Tt helps to make you perspire."
•As Helen rubbed her face with cold
cream to protect it from the hot air
she read the placarded signs which
heng around' the wall.
."•Turkish Baths Prolong Tour
, Youth.
5 Tickets for $6.00.
"Enhance Your Charms by
Weekly Visits to '
The Pompeian Baths."
"Well, we may look beautiful after
ward,, but- I shouldn't say any one
here looks particularly alluring now,"
glancing at the flushed, grease coated
faces around the room.
TRYING TO REDUCE
A stout woman, livid with the heat,
sat opposite. The Ice cloth lay on
her head at a rakish angle, and her
drenelied hair hung in straggling
loeksi.' Her bare arms and feet
showed creases of fat and the sheet
did.hot conceal the lines of her pudgy
figure/ ** •
".Sbe.'s reducing." whispered Mrs.
Ste.v'eh,s. .. "She's here every time I
■eprrie.' ' The time and money some of
ih'e"se';women spend trying to reduce!"
'/"^^len-glanced down at her own slim
; "foViaa.'-.'.-outlined under the clinging
jsiiee*', 'and adjusted her ijce cap with
i-a'-'srgh io'f content.
: ";.. : :"Haven.'t we been in here long
eivO-ugii"?" for she could hardly breathe
iii tile.-"heated air, and the chair seemed
b'drjirrfg hot "That sign says 10 min
utes;", "sodding toward a large placard.
„ '-. |.-?; it-Is Not Advisable to Stay in
.VflChfs Room Longer Than Ten or
•* Fifteen Minutes.- Consult Attend
an< * you're not used to it,
"vPe3j,"go in and be packed now."
Through, the swinging door Mrs.
6t,eyens\ led ihe way into a large, mir
ror' l,»ied room filled with cots. An
attendant ra*i forward with fresh
theets a-nd '-skillfully "packed" them
■with blankets up to their chins.
"How long do we stay here?" asked
Hel#n, turning her' head toward Mrs.
Stevens, who was in the cot to her
right.
"Oh; 15 minutes—until we
perspire thoroughly."
The heat had been somewhat ener-
Tating, and not feeling inclined to
talk rjeren lay there watching the
bathers as they trailed In and out.
She 'wondered how these women
Would look in their clothes. Probably
most of them, with the aid of corsets,
rouge, false hair and .modish gowns,
were "smart," stylish looking women.
But hfere is only a sheet, which did
not disguise their figures, and with
thef» scant hair twisted Into a tight
bun, they, were very much as nature
had made them.
"I wqnder if men look as unattrac
tive in a Turkish bath as women?"
roused Helen.
"They probably look worse,"
laughed Mrs. Stevens.
"Have you ladies any one for your
bath?" asked a passing attendant:
• "No, I want Nellie; and see If you
can get Ro*a for rhis lady."
The girl went out shrieking, "Nel
lie! Rosa'" and Mrs. Stevens turned
to Helen with a reassuring:
"Rosa's good and strong—she'll give
yod a good rub."
*Why do they have 'Stolen from the
Po'mfjeian baths' on everything?"
aslced* Helen suddenly, for across the
center of every • sheet, towel and
blanket this phrase was worked irr
>arge red letters.
That's, the one thing I'don't like
abo»t this place—they're so distrust
ful.'Who would want their old sheets
and towels? It's.an insult to their
patrons to "have that 'Stolen from the
Potnpejan baths' on everything. Oh,
t.ere tomes Nellie now!"
':. . . >ELLIE ARRIVES
A_tafl. well built girl, her sheet
gl?d.ed around her waist and over her
shoulder in the manner of all the at
tendants, now came up to them.
.."Is -this- the lady who wants Rosa?"
giant ing, toward Helen as she un
wrapped Mrs. Stevens' blankets.
"She'll be here in a minute, she's just
givriig. an alcohol rub."
'inlen watched Mrs. Stevens go off
•wijh' Nellie, with a sudden nervous
rhsstf at being left alone. This was her
Ik sr. experience at a Turkish bath, and
she'.xlid not know just what was In
stare for her.
"You the lady with Mrs. Stevens?"
a pretty, round faced attendant.
x*Y!O now approached her cot. "What's
yd'ur number?" as she began unwrap
ping tne blanket.
answered Helen, glancing at
the key of her locker, suspended from
the rubber ring around her wrist.
Heleh's heart beat fast as she fol
lowed the girl out to the baths. The
various apparatuses and hurrying
white sheeted attendants were some
what terrifying.
"Just step ln there." Rosa pushed
open the door of the steam room. "I'll
calk you in a minute."
* Helen found herself In a cloud of
-dense white steam. She put out her
hand and took a groping step forward.
There were others in the room, for
she could hear their voices, and from
somewhere came the roar of machi
nery and the loud hissing of steam.
*A»Bhudderlng thought came to her
ot the engine room of the Titanic.
She* Imagined it was like this as the
thip went down, and she pictured the
wretched stokers trying to fight their
Way out through the blinding steam.
Theji she heard the door open and
Rosa's voice calling "156." When she
stepped out the clear air quickly dis
pelled her grewsome thoughts.
. Rosa now led her to one of the
many scrub rooms—a marble parti
tioned call with a stone bench and a
The Gold Witch
THE young men in her new home seem to be most courteous. Tom is not in favor, but he
still hovers around.
stone pillow. With a small hose she
turned a flood of water on the bench,
pillow and floor, dispelling Helen's
lurking fear that things might not
be "clean."
"Now, Just lie down there, ma'am.
Is this your first bath?" noticing
Helen's shrinking reluctance. "Oh,
you'll like it when you get used to it."
Helen closed her eyes and held her
breath. With astonishing vigor and
energy this young woman went at
her with a stiff brush that felt like
a currycomb.
THE ONSLAUGHT
"Oh, not so hard! My skin's too
tender!"
"It's good for you, ma'am," consol
ingly. "Now turn over, please."
Helen squirmed under the onslaught
of the bristle brush. Then a mo
ment's respite and she felt a sooth
ing flood of warm water from the
hose. Then more lathering with soap
and more vigorous scrubbing.
"There, now, ma'am," as Rose again
turned on the hose. "Would you like
a salt rub?"
Helen had no conception of what a
6alt rub meant, but she remembered
a sign: "Salt Rubs Make Pink Skin."
The bristle brush alone was tor
ture, but the bristle brush filled with
coarse salt brought visions of the
Spanish inquisition when they lashed
their victims and rubbed salt Into
their raw wounds.
"Oh, don't —please don't! I can't
stand It!"
"You'll feel fine afterward. You're
skin's a little tender, but a salt rub's
good for It. There now," as again
came the grateful flood of warm
water. "Now come out and 111 give
you the hose and the spray."
Outside Helen stood ln a marble
recess while Rosa from the corridor
about ten feet away turned on a
powerful hose. It was warm at first,
but gradually it grew jcolder. Like
most women, Helen shrank from cold
water, but Rosa was merciless and
kept the now Icy stream turned full
on her.
"Now, madam, the needle spray and
you're through!"
She turned off the hose and led
Helen to a diabolical looking arrange
ment of coi'ed pipes which sent out
fine sprays of water and steam.
Helen shrank back with a cry.
\
OXLY THE SPRAY
"That's scalding! You don't expect
me to stand in there?"
"Why, it's cold, ma'am! That ain't
steam —that's only the spray!"
When Helen reluctantly stepped In
side It was like a thousand electric
needles playing against her flesh. Yet
instead of feeling cold her skin began
to glow. To her amazement she really
enjoyed standing ln this shower of Icy
spray.
"There," and Rosa threw a warm
sheet alaiut her as she came out. "I
knew you'd like it. Now don't you
want to go in the pool for a while?"
leading her down the corridor to a
large marble bathing pool.
Mrs. Stevens was already there, and
Helen waded out toward her, shoul
der deep in the clear water.
Ten minutes in the pool, then a
brisk rubdown with coarse towels and
they made their way back to the
dressing room. There the bath at
tendant gave tnem a vigorous alcohol
rub.
When they finally came out on the
street Helente skin was aglow and
her blood tingled pleasantly through
her. She walked fast and took deep
breaths of the clear, frosty air. Her
sense of physical wellbeing amounted
almost to exhilaration.
But the buoyancy of her mood was
not wholly physical. For as she pic
tured the disfiguring obesity of some
of the women in the baths her mind
leaped joyously to the thought that
she was still young and slim and that
for her a Turkish bath was only a
luxury and not paat. oX a relentless
"reducing regimen." '
THE FAMILY CUPBOARD
A Story of High Society
Life in New York.
Sfou Can Begin This
Great Story Today by
Reading This First
Charles Nelson, a wealthy New
Yorker, on coming home on a certain
afternoon, discovers his eon, Ken
neth, drunk, and jn the scene that
follows. Kenneth accuses his father of
maintaining another establishment.
Nelson admits the truth of the charge.
H!s wife, a society leader, hears the
discussion, and it develops that tbe
estrangement In the family has come
through the woman's indifference to
her husband. Their daughter, Alice,
sides with the father, and Kenneth
takes his mother's part Mrs. Hard
ing, a mutual friend, tries to patch
the trouble, and contrives that the
Nelsons shall meet at the Alpine
apartments, where Nelson has gone
from his home. In the lobby of this
apartment house Mrs. Nelson acci
dentally meets Kitty May Claire, the
girl who had won her husband's af
fection. After his wife leaves, Nelson
has a talk with the girl. He tells her
they must "quit." The girl declares
she will have revenge. She takes it
by having the son, Kenneth, fall ln
love with her.
! Now Read On !j
(From Owen Davta' play now being presented
at the Playhouse by William A. Brady.—
Copyrighted, 1913, by International Neva
Service.)
Continued from Yesterday
THE TELL TALE GLOVES
Mary began calmly and ended ln
utter confusion and pain—pain that
she must not allow poor, harassed
Mrs. Nelson to share. She had seen
Kitty's long white gloves on the
couch where Kenneth had carelessly
thrown them. Quickly, quickly she
dashed them back of a heavy pillow
and stood patting it into place as if
the beautifying of an arrangement of
cushions were the most important
thing she knew.
Mrs. Nelson turned. She smiled to
see Mary so deeply Interested in that
pillow. Well, It was Ken's. In that
three weeks at Ashevllle she had
come to fathom some of the loyal
love of Mary Burk's generous nature.
To give and give! That was Mary's
Irish heritage.
"What is it?" she asked in some
amazement.
Those gloves! They haunted Mary
—she wanted to see them again.
They tortured her—but Mrs. Nelson
must not know.
"Nothing. I —l think you are right,
Mrs. Nelson. Kenneth would be bet
ter off ln some place he could call a
home."
And there was a deep meaning in
Mary's soft cadenced voice.
The door, opened, and with boyish
impulsiveness Kenneth Nelson dashed
into the room.
"Hello, mother! I thought I should
find you here. Just as anxious for me
as I was for you. Eh, what?"
He seized her in a very earnest em
braca and kissed his mother with all
The Adventures of a Golden-Haired Heiress
No. 2. — No One Can Sit on Both Sides of a Fence
his pent up longing for love. She held
her boy off and looked at him.
"Kenneth! You are pale!"
"Aw, I'm all right."
The old masculine desire not to have
i a "fuss made over a chap."
"Hello, Mary! Have a good time at
Ashevllle?"
That casual greeting! It hurt. Mary
crossed over to the window—there was
sunshine outside. Here in the room
were indifference—and "the other
woman's" white gloves. To twp sad
hearts Kitty Claire was now "the
other woman."
"No!" said Mary.
"It was stupid. I knew it would
be. But I thought It would prevent
gossip, my leaving town for a while,
you know," said Mrs. Nelson.
"There hasn't been much talk," said
Ken.
Mrs. Nelson hesitated, then spoke
anxiously.
"Ken—have—have you—seen HIM?"
"No," said Ken. Indifferently .
Mrs. Nelson leaned anxiously across
the table between the chairs.
"He has made no effort to see me?"
"Yes, he has, but I couldn't see him.
Alice came around once or twice, and
she keeps calling me on the phone.
But I won't go there. I can't."
Tim- boy took his mother's band ln
his with a gentle caress. The young
prodigal who was laying up for her
the bitterest pain of all—the pain of
love for her first born. Instead of sel
fish self-love—adored his beautiful
mother.
"I can't see them," he said gently.
"He Is your father."
In an hour soon to come Emily
Nelson would prove just what that
meant—"he is your father!"
"I know, dear. Are—are you—is
there to be —a divorce?"
"I am not sure,"
The foundations of Emily's worla
had been shaken. She was no longer
sure of anything!
"Before you went away you Bald
that you were to start in at once?"
The hoy spoke with a sort of slow
SHOP EARLY
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C HE wonders why the girls are so hard to get acquainted with, when all the young men
are so friendly.
Adapted from the Broadway J
Success by Owen Davis, j
Impatience. Would she forgive his
father? How much could a woman
forgive? Later the great question of
all his life would be: HOW MUCH
CAN A MAN FORGIVE? And on the
answer would depend sanity—ana
more.
"I had Intended to —but"—
Emily Nelson could not quite ex
plain herself—her growing feeling of
helplessness at the outcome of It all.
Was she beginning to realize that
each of us has a debt to life? Was
she beginning to know that she had
owed everything for long years to
Charles Nelson —that she had cheated
—and that life was now inexorably
demanding toll?
That beautiful exotic creature —thu
bird of paradise society woman—ac
cepts homage, tribute, worship from
the man to whom she' owes all —and
pays no more than a gossamer smile.
And one day the grim auditor, Hu
man Nature, comes along and says,
"Dear me! —these books don't balance
at all. Why, everything is on one
side—the debit side. I'll have to see
what I can collect for the creditor.'
Whereupon the bird of paradise pays
ln terms of love for her tribute of
glory and gems—or watches some
clever purchaser buying away from
her what she thought hers "by right
of eminent domain."
The law recognizes the right of
possession—It counts nine points.
And In love, possession is all the
points.
"I want to know where we stand.
Are you going back to him? Kenneth
asked with youth's desire to have
things settled and arranged—at once.
OWE MOTHER'S ANSWER
Thus brought practically to bay,
with all the sentimental longrVigs of
home coming put to war with her
feeling of martyrdom, Emily Nelson
remembered that she was a woman
deeply wronged—and forgot that she
had brought it all on herself.
"No! lam not! Do you know—
have you heard—if he is with that
woman?"
STELLA FLORES
Copyright, 1913. International News Service.
j "I don't know anything about it,
|and I don't want to. But Alice is
with him, and I am sure she wouldn't
stand for it. Gee! It is tough on
Alice! Tom Harding tells me that
the engagement is off."
Here was work for the woman who
had learned leadership—in society.
"Only for the present, I am sure.
Alice has a mistaken idea of her
duty toward her father. I shall send
for her today. Matters must be ar
ranged so that her prospects are not
affected. Are you all right for money,
dear?"
"For a day or two—that's all. You
know, this Is a confoundedly expen
sive way to live," said Ken, with no
idea at all of living any other way.
"And scarcely suitable. But we
will talk of that tonight. You will
dine with me, won't you, dear?"
The boy stood with quick courtesy
as his mother rose. He came to her
side, and she took him into her arms.
"Yes, thanks. I'll love dining with
you again, mother. But you must let
me off early. I have an engagement
that won't hear breaking."
• Mary turned juickly—and Mrs. Nel
son spoke with anxious premonition:
"You are not doing anything silly,
are you, dearf"
The boy straightened a bit. with
the conscious power of manhood. He
loved—and he thought he could win
the love he wanted.
"I'm all right! I'm going to be a
hustler after this. I've got 'some
thing worth working for!"
"Kenneth!" exclaimed Emily Nelson.
Many turned, startled out of self
repression.
"What is it, Ken?" asked the girl
breathlessly.
Both women were anxious. In the
eyes of each was the light of pro
tecting longing—that maternal glow
a good woman feels when she senses
danger for her beloved.
"You silly women! Why shouldn't
I work? Don't stand popping your
eyes out at me!"
The boy laughed with easy mascu
line superiority.
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"I'm all right!" he boasted.
He kissed his mother. And this
time he did not see how softly glow
ing was the pink of sweet Marx's
cheek!
"You are all I have now, Ken!"
Emily Nelson spoke with a sad ten
derness. She could not know how
dangerously near she was to losing
that "all she had"—once and for
ever!
"We are going to be happy—all of
us! You'll see! Goodby. mother."
Kenneth spoke with the'easy boast
fulness of one who sees his own joy
Just within reach. Mary Burk could
not quite see how they were all to
be happy! As Mrs. Nelson swept
ahead down the corridor, she stepped
back Into the room, and with a deep,
feeling voiced her unselfish plea to
Ken.
"Your father, Ken! He loves you!"
Ken had taken her hand -with the
friendly glow of long years of
friendship and affection. He dropped
It now with harsh suddenness.
"Goodby, Mary.
Fine feeling and beauty of purpose
flooded Mary's eyes and turned her
voice to the liquid music of her own
Celtic poets.
"Ken! Her heart Is just breaking
for him!"
"Come, Mary," called Mrs. Nelson.
And' Fate and Nature must again bide
their time.
"I will see you tonight. The front
elevator is most convenient, mother.
I'll take you to your car."
"Car!" cried that lady of luxury a
little bitterly. "It is only a taxi."
"Oh, I say! There is no need of
that. You should have the things
that belong to your prosition, you
know."
Ken's assured voice trailed off down
the hall.
Potter came out to the phone to
order that "luncheon for a lady."
Continued Tomorrow
Not So Clever
"Look here," said a gentleman to
a railway station master, "don't you
think that thing is rather dangerous
where—"
"Why!" interrupted the official ad
dressed, who had just been promoted,
"you've noticed that barrow, have
you, sir? You're going to make aft
suggestion about the place where it
ought to stand, I suppose? Might I
question, sir, and ask your opinion
about the the position of the ticket
office. Do you think that the signal
box is in the right place? Shouldn't
the station master's house be shifted
a few yards further west? Any opin
ion you would like to express, slr\
shall have immediate attention."
The traveler went away, and the
station master turned around triumph
antly to the guard of a train waiting
In the siding.
"Ha, ha!" he laughed. "Did you see
the sport I had with, that old nui
sance? I soon shut him up."
"I'm not so sure of that," replied
the guard. "I'm afraid you'll hear
more about it, for, you see, he's the
traffic manager."
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