Class F5^3 
 Rnok ./\A^1 
 
 Copyright N? 
 
 COKRlGtlT DEPOSIT. 
 
L. MORRILL 
 
THE ENTIRE WORLD LOVES MUSIC 
 
 CHEER THE HEART THE METROPOLITAN WAY 
 
 ^ VICTROLAS 
 
 THE WORLD'S LEADING 
 PHONOGRAPH 
 
 Special Model No. XIV. Price $115.00 
 
 The latest product of the Victor people. Made b 
 
 Mahogany or Oak; in Elnglish Brown Mahogany and 
 
 Fumed Oak Finish. Size 43 in. high, 20 m. wide, 
 
 23 H inches deep. Has every charackoistic d the 
 
 VICTOR. 
 
 This NEW MODEL bringi the VICTOR 
 within reach of all. 
 
 THE VERY LATEST 
 VICTOR RECORDS 
 
 We carry a complete assortment of all 
 
 late VICTOR Records both 
 
 popular and classical. Out supply 
 
 of old favorites is also "up'to-tke* 
 
 minute." i j 
 
 OUR Ifi^ 
 SHEET MUSIC 
 DEPARTMENT 
 
 We have all the latest 
 popular and dassica) 
 pieces on sale. 
 This departmeni 
 is the BUM com«- 
 plete of its kind 
 in the North- 
 west. 
 
 FOR GENERATIONS 
 
 The STEINWAY PIANO has been the 
 STANDARD of the World. Its 6ne tone 
 and quality appearance gives it the UN- 
 CHALLENGED CHOICE of fore- 
 roost musical authorities. 
 
 OTHER SPLENDID 
 PIANOS CARRIED 
 
 We carry a comprehensive line of 
 leading makes of ^anos. They 
 are thoroughly guaranteed for 
 tone, quality and appearance. 
 
 IVERS & POND PIANOS. 
 LUDWIG PIANOS. 
 KAZELTON BROS. PIANOS, 
 BEHR BROS. PIANOS. 
 DYER BROS. PIANOS 
 
 The right piano at 
 the right price, 
 new or used, 
 to suit every 
 pocket book 
 
 V 
 
 METROPOLITAN MUSIC CO. 
 
 
 The World's Best Pianos 
 41-43 South Sixth Street 
 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA 
 
 
.....^.■,<T^-S¥<?vS?JS^?SS?¥??!???W»K.y^ 
 
 G. L. MORRILL 
 
ON THE 
 WARPATH 
 
 BY 
 
 G. L. MORRILL 
 
 CGOLIGHTLY'*) 
 
 PASTOR OP PEOPLE'S CHURCH, 
 Minneapolis, Minn., U. S. A. 
 
 LOWELL L. MORRILL 
 
 PHOTOGRAPHER 
 
 7/y 
 
■MST 
 
 Copyright 1918 
 G. L. MORRILL 
 
 OCT -7 l^i'ri 
 €)CI.A506174 
 
Dedicated 
 
 To 
 
 Those lV]^o 
 
 Love the Truth — 
 
 If There Are Any 
 
BOOKS BY a L MORRILL 
 
 MUSINGS 
 
 DRIFTWOOD 
 
 UPPER CUTS 
 
 THE MORALIST 
 
 EASTER ECHOES 
 
 PEOPLE'S PULPIT 
 
 HERE AND THERE 
 
 FIRESIDE FANCIES 
 
 A MUSICAL MINISTER 
 
 PARSON'S PILGRIMAGE 
 
 THE DEVIL IN MEXICO 
 
 SOUTH SEA SILHOUETTES 
 
 TRACKS OF A TENDERFOOT 
 
 GOLIGHTLY 'ROUND THE GLOBE 
 
 TO HELL AND BACK— SOUTH AMERICA 
 
 ROTTEN REPUBLICS— CENTRAL AMERICA 
 
On the Warpath 
 
 Cain went on the warpath with a club, the Kaiser with 
 a sword. I use a pen — not to spill blood, but ink in attack- 
 ing human folly, stupidity, superstition, hsrpocrisy and in- 
 justice. 
 
 — GOLIGHTLY, 
 
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN : 
 David wrote the One-Hundred and Ninth Psalm in sweet 
 solicitude for his enemies. I "pan" mine with the same pane- 
 gyric : 
 
 For the mouth of the wicked and the mouth of the deceitful are opened 
 against me: they have spoken against me with a lying tongue. 
 They compassed me about also with words of hatred; and fought 
 against me without a cause. 
 
 For my love they are my adversaries: but I give myself unto prayer. 
 And they have rewarded me evil for good, and hatred for my love. 
 Set thou a wicked man over him: and let Satan stand at his right hand. 
 When he shall be judged, let him be condemned: and let his prayer be- 
 come sin. 
 
 Let his days be few; and let another take his office. 
 Let his children be fatherless, and his wife a widow. 
 Let his children be continually vagabonds, and beg; let them seek their 
 bread also out of their desolate places. 
 
 Let the extortioner catch all that he hath; and let the strangers spoil 
 his labour. 
 
 Let there be none to extend mercy unto him: neither let there be any to 
 favour his fatherless children. 
 
 Let his posterity be cut off; and in the generation following let their 
 name be blotted out. 
 
 Let the iniquity of his fathers be remembered with the Lord; and let 
 not the sin of his mother be blotted out. 
 
 Let them be before the Lord continually, that he may cut off the mem- 
 ory of them from the earth. 
 
 Because that he remembered not to shew mercy, but persecuted the poor 
 and needy man, that he might even slay the broken in heart. 
 
 As he loved cursing, so let it come unto him: as he delighted not in 
 blessing, so let it be far from him. 
 
 As he clothed himself with cursing like as with his garment, so let it 
 come into his bowels like water, and like oil into his bones. 
 Let it be unto him as the garment which covereth him, and for a girdle 
 wherewith he is girded continually. 
 
 Let this be the reward of mine adversaries from the Lord, and of them 
 that speak evil against my soul. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Fig-Leaf Fanatics 7 
 
 Arrested 10 
 
 New Year Resolutions 12 
 
 The Panama Limited .... 13 
 Passports Confiscated .... 14 
 
 Manuscript Stolen 17 
 
 Suppressing Truth 23 
 
 Postal Inquisitors 24 
 
 Official Fraud 25 
 
 Press Comment 30 
 
 Centaurs i 32 
 
 A Dethroned King 33 
 
 Moral Repairs 34 
 
 Masks 35 
 
 Jazz Jamboree 37 
 
 Grave Thoughts 38 
 
 Some Saint 40 
 
 A Cook's Tour 43 
 
 Evil Spirits 47 
 
 Echoes From Ecuador ... 49 
 
 Why Travel? 50 
 
 Old and New Orleans .... 53 
 
 Moss-Covered 56 
 
 Louisiana 58 
 
 Troubles 60 
 
 Lynching — A Fine Art 61 
 
 A Fiendish Film 63 
 
 Texas Towns 67 
 
 Smuggling 69 
 
 Mexican Atrocities 70 
 
 King Cotton 73 
 
 What to Tax? 74 
 
 New Mexico 75 
 
 Relics 76 
 
 Under Ground 78 
 
 Copper 79 
 
 Globe-Trotting 80 
 
 The Apache Trail 81 
 
 PAGE 
 
 High Livers 83 
 
 The Roosevelt Dam 85 
 
 Scouting ,. . . 86 
 
 On the Warpath 88 
 
 The Desert 91 
 
 Phoenixiana 96 
 
 The Death Penalty 99 
 
 Civilized Savages 100 
 
 A Savage Attack 103 
 
 Arizona's Fossil Forests.. 105 
 Hard Wood Questions. . . .109 
 The "Role" of the Drum. .112 
 
 Auto Stops . . ., 115 
 
 San Diego, Now and Then. 117 
 
 Theosophistry 119 
 
 Human Birds 120 
 
 Rich Man's Retreat 121 
 
 Soldiers* Morals 123 
 
 Capistrano 125 
 
 The Double Cross 126 
 
 A Happy Valley 129 
 
 Apples of Hesperides 129 
 
 Luther and Liberty 133 
 
 Movie Madness 135 
 
 Climate- Worshippers 139 
 
 In an Earthquake. 142 
 
 Catalina 145 
 
 Kelp 147 
 
 A French Countess 147 
 
 Island Views 148 
 
 Fine Points of the Cactus. 149 
 
 Aboard a Pirate Ship 150 
 
 Fish Tales 154 
 
 Human Sharks ,157 
 
 An Accomplished Archangel . 1 60 
 
 San Gabriel's Gold 161 
 
 The Mission Play 163 
 
 Trinity Grape Vine 164 
 
CONTENTS— Continued 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Lincoln's Birthday 172 
 
 A Lowe Mountain 174 
 
 The Angelus or Liberty 
 
 Bell? 165 
 
 Boycotts and Bigots 167 
 
 Freemasons and K. C.'s. . . . 169 
 
 Is Rome Pro-German? 171 
 
 George Washington 177 
 
 Washed Ashore 178 
 
 Art, Where Art Thou?... 179 
 
 Music and Books 180 
 
 Elysium 181 
 
 Et Cetera 182 
 
 A Chinese New Year 183 
 
 California's Yellow Streak. 185 
 
 Greaser Town 187 
 
 Waste 189 
 
 Haunch of Venison 192 
 
 Beach Debauchery 193 
 
 Summer Fools 197 
 
 Busy Beavers 200 
 
 Painted Women 201 
 
 'Frisco 202 
 
 Club Life 204 
 
 In Irons 205 
 
 PAGE 
 
 On the Ocean 206 
 
 Astoria's Story 212 
 
 Portland and Water 214 
 
 Salt Lake Saints . . ., 214 
 
 Street Scenes 217 
 
 Free Love Religion 219 
 
 The Mormon Bible 220 
 
 Old Brigham Young 222 
 
 Mountain Meadow Mas- 
 sacre 225 
 
 Bones 227 
 
 No Man's Land 230 
 
 Bill Nye's Territory 232 
 
 My Wild West Alphabet ... 232 
 
 Hot Air 233 
 
 Indicted 234 
 
 A Jaundiced Jury 234 
 
 Putrid Politics 236 
 
 ''Obscene" Classics ...... .237 
 
 Bigoted Censors 239 
 
 Gag-Law 242 
 
 Truth, Where Is She?.... 246 
 
 Infernal Persecution 249 
 
 In Jail 255 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 APACHE SQUAW. ARIZONA— FRONTISPIECE 
 
 G. L. MORRILL 
 
 CLIFF-DWELLING. ARIZONA 
 
 DESERT CACTUS. 
 
 CAMEL OF PLANTS. ARIZONA 
 
 PETRIFIED TREE BRIDGE. ARIZONA 
 
 A FRENCH COUNTESS 
 
 NING PO. PIRATE SLAVE SHIP. 
 
 CATALINA 
 
 LANDING A 480 POUND SEA BASS. 
 NEWPORT BEACH. CALIFORNIA 
 
 A "BONNY" BATHER. NEWPORT BEACH. 
 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
Be just, and fear not; 
 Let all the ends, thou aim'st at, he thy country's, 
 Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, Cromwell, 
 Thou fall'st a blessed martyr! 
 
 — Shakespeare, 
 
ON THE WARPATH 
 
 PIG-LEAP PANATICS 
 
 |KRESTED! Just as I was leaving Minneapolis for 
 Ecuador I was arrested by the arm of the law, al- 
 though armed with passports and a personal letter 
 of introduction from Secretary Lansing commending 
 me to the diplomatic representatives there. 
 
 Why held up? Had I committed murder, stolen an auto, 
 robbed a bank, run off with some one's household goods, gods 
 or goddess, forged a check, burned a house, written a con- 
 gratulatory letter to the Kaiser, preached seditious sermons? 
 No, for no such commonplace crimes, but for writing a sweet, 
 innocent, charming, little book, "The Devil in Mexico.'- The 
 offense was not in writing it and telling the truth of my Mexi- 
 can experiences, but in sending it through the post office. 
 
 Had I clothed this naked Truth in a lovely gown of lies 
 she would have been well received by the mails, but an im- 
 pure Puritan in Aurora, 111., who evidently had only seen Truth 
 in masquerade and didn't know her when he saw her, was 
 shocked. He insulted her by calling her filthy names and had 
 the post office swear out a warrant for her arrest. 
 
 To the impure all things are impure. 
 
 Those who say my book is obscene in any picture or para- 
 graph are themselves obscene and guilty of ignorant or mali- 
 cious falsehood. 
 
 My accusers belong to that class of whited sepulchres which 
 mistakes hysteria for holiness and prudery for piety. They 
 would put a corset on the statue of Venus de Milo; dress 
 Michael Angelo's "David" in B. V. D.'s; paint diapers on 
 Raphael's cherubs; and emasculate the Bible, Shakespeare 
 and all literature, from Aristophanes to Zola. If by any 
 mischance they ever enter heaven they will be sad and shocked 
 if the angels do not wear pantalettes. 
 
 "Evil to him who evil thinks." These miserable moral 
 mountebanks have innocency of word, not of thought; the 
 
8 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 morality of tongue, not of heart. They see suggestive insinu- 
 ation where none is implied, imagine the words ''nude'' and 
 **lewd" are synoymous, and place the suggestive fig-leaf on 
 decent nakedness. 
 
 God is in his heaven and prohibition is coming to his world, 
 yet I fear these critics will continue to grow grape-vines to 
 use the leaves for fig-leaves for statues. 
 
 Isn't it shocking that everything is naked but hypocrisy? 
 Truth is naked, lies are clothed. 
 
 Virtue may sit, stand or ride naked as Godiva clad in 
 purity, while prude and Puritanical objecting critics and 
 juries may wear a display window full of clothes and be 
 morally worse. 
 
 Some so-called "Christian" censors, who wear twice as 
 many clothes as their "heathen" brothers and sisters in the 
 South Sea Islands, have not half as much modesty or virtue, 
 I am sorry to say. 
 
 How ought one to write ? "Who is to be the boss? Do legal 
 and political positions bring infallible ethical and literary qual- 
 ifications with which to judge another? These literary police 
 try to follow you with club to silence you. No one can ven- 
 ture out from their narrow circle of criteria without incurring 
 their excommunicating curse. They would change the "Re- 
 public of Letters" into an oligarchy. liike Nebuchadnezzar, 
 they set up their image in the plain, a very plain image too, 
 and command us to bow down before it. 
 
 Like flies, such critics speck the whitest page in a book. 
 The immortal Heine at one time had all the political and cler- 
 ical powers of Europe against him. You may judge of a man 
 and his work by the number of his enemies, what they say 
 about him and do to him. 
 
 These pastmasters of mediocrity have a monopoly on igno- 
 rance. At one time, in Glasgow, the citizens petitioned Parlia- 
 ment to suppress the models of nude women in drawing. Re- 
 cently a statue was removed from the Chicago Museum be- 
 cause it offended some haloed humbug. The Chicago censors 
 must have been afflicted with moral lumbago. They would 
 put Apollo in a Prince Albert and garb all the Greek Gods. 
 
 Heaven save us, if these mental Mentors apply Ladies' 
 Boarding School rules to art and literature! A pig goes 
 
ON THE WARPATH 9 
 
 through a flower garden to root in the muck. Pig-headed 
 critics see nothing but dirt and spoil everything in their way 
 to get it — if there isn't any, they make it. Do these mud- 
 geysers want us to believe they are Castalian fountains ? Shall 
 we canonize critics who worship themselves ? Saintly Tartuft'es ! 
 they lack nothing but a holy haircut and a cleric's collar. 
 
 for a new Cervantes to hit off these Don Quixotes riding 
 their hobbies atilt at everything and everybody! for a 
 Siegfried to slaughter this dragon of hypocrisy! for a 
 Hercules club to smash these little bigots, and for the hun- 
 dred hands of Briareus to choke off these pious praters, with 
 hellish hearts, who so charitably damn us! 
 
 Mistaking asininity for divinity, these proud humans blush 
 at naked truth and clothe her in the tights of lies. As critic 
 costumers, they would rule the age and trick out law, politics 
 and literature in fancy dress. To tell the simple naked truth 
 is shockingly unpopular. Facts must be padded and corseted. 
 Today he is the successful man who hides the truth. 
 
 The profession of hypocrite is always crowded. 
 
 Apostles of stupidity always teach and preach loyalty to 
 their own creed. Weary of their own small ideas, they fall 
 into the sleep of dullness and only wake to perform acts of 
 greater idiocy. Their eccentricities are *'idiotsyncracies." 
 
 The bark of these Cerberus dogs is worse than their bite. 
 Let an author launch out a book on a sea of printer's ink, and 
 his cargo of ideas, if orignial, is at once made contraband 
 and held up in their literary custom-house. Beware of in- 
 quisitors who would burn books, and guillotiners who would 
 behead writers. How many books have been butchered on 
 block heads ! 
 
 The caste of these critics is castration. Their Pegasus is a 
 mule, their eagle a capon, their God an eunuch. 
 
 Censorious cads, who never travel, are the first to pro- 
 nounce judgment on books of travel. If they did travel, in- 
 stead of becoming broader, they would resemble a piece of 
 copper wire which gets narrower the farther it goes. 
 
 With Byron we ask: 
 
 **And shall we own such judgment? no — as soon 
 Seek roses in December — ice in June ; 
 Hope constancy in wind, or corn in chaff; 
 
10 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 Believe a woman or an epitaph, 
 
 Or any other thing that's false, before 
 
 You trust in critics/* 
 
 Their milk of human kindness, if they ever had any, has 
 turned into swill. Pharisaically they wear broad phylacteries 
 upon their narrow brows, and are the self -elected High Priests 
 in the Temple of Fame, permitting none but themselves to 
 enter its holy of holies. 
 
 God help us to forgive and forget these critical Pecksniffs 
 who sniff around with their lifted nose and curling lip; who 
 imagine they are pious when they're simply bilious; who think 
 their candle brains are arc lights. These black-leg saints who 
 cant and rant, seem to think this would have been a better 
 world if they had been present to give advice when it was 
 created. They act as if they were the confidential advisers of 
 the Almighty, and expect to be at heaven's Judgment gate 
 with a key to lock in or out any who did or did not belong to 
 their race, religion, trade, club or political party. 
 
 Excuse me from the society of long-eared oracles of letters, 
 the companionship of self-satisfied saints with Psalms on their 
 lips and perfidy in their life. Out upon these sanctimonious 
 sinners with the mummery of a monk and the morals of a 
 monkey — these sacred satyrs, reverend rascals, anointed knaves 
 and sewer-minded seraphs! 
 
 God is my judge and heaven is my court of appeal. When 
 I die I want a copy of my book, *'The Devil in Mexico," 
 placed in my coffin, so that if there is a literal resurrection 
 I may appear in judgment and receive final sentence of heaven 
 or hell according to what I have written. 
 
 ARRESTED ! 
 
 USUALLY when a man leaves his home town even his 
 friends are glad to get rid of him. No one objected 
 to my departure except the officers of the law, who 
 hated to see me go. Instead of being served with 
 candy, flowers, fruits and fond farewells, they served me with 
 a Federal warrant for which there was no warrant. 
 
ON THE WARPATH U 
 
 All this happened New Year's eve an hour before court 
 closed and about four hours before my train started. I wonder 
 why this action was not taken in the morning, or a day or 
 week before? "Was it a frame-up? Did the officials think I 
 would be unable to obtain bondsmen immediately, and so 
 spend New Year's eve and day behind the **bars," instead of 
 in front of them? Why did the Post Office Inspector, W. J. 
 Morles, come to my home in the morning of the day of my de- 
 parture in order to assure me, among other things, that there 
 would be no obstacle placed in my way to start that evening? 
 Why all these whys? You will learn as you read further. 
 
 I doubt if a crack crook ever made a faster get-away than 
 mine. Something had to be done quickly. I happened to see 
 my lawyer friend Ernest Carey crossing the street and told 
 him the situation. We jumped into his car, providentially 
 near, put her in high, and arrived at my home in time to 
 meet the U. S. deputy sheriff at the front door, extend my 
 hand in welcome and receive his with the warrant. In the 
 meantime my brother Frank heard of the trick and wanted 
 a hand in the game. He met us and we four sped to the 
 Federal Court. 
 
 I knew of the bondsmen in Egypt and had already bought 
 Liberty Bonds for the government, but now I wanted one for 
 myself to be at liberty. The old proverb was illustrated, *'A 
 friend in need is a friend indeed." I hurried to the Radisson 
 Hotel and saw Simon Kruse, to the New England and met 
 W. L. Harris. I gave a picture of my predicament and the 
 **frame-up," and they immediately went with me to the 
 Federal Building where they signed my bail bond of $3000. 
 The deputy sheriff had told me it was $2000, but the Court 
 Commissioner Howard Abbott placed it at $3000. I was 
 as much surprised as were my bondsmen, but they stood for 
 the raise. Looking towards them I quietly and thankfully 
 remarked, **Many are the afflictions of the righteous; but the 
 Lord delivereth him out of them all." Thereupon his Honor 
 turned gravely around, reprimanded me as if I were making 
 irrelevant and irreverent remarks in his presence, and said I 
 should apologize to the court. I did, T might have known 
 that Scripture was out of place in a Court Room. On the 
 charge of sending an '* immoral" book through the mail, I 
 
12 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 pleaded ''Not Guilty," and was set free to go when and where 
 I pleased, as a good American citizen, until April 2nd on which 
 date I must arrange with Time, Fate and Providence to appear 
 before the Federal Grand Jury in Minneapolis. 
 
 NEW YEAR RESOLUTIONS 
 
 WE made the train. I have watched the old year go 
 and new year come on tipsy reels but never before on 
 wheels. A train of thoughts whirled me through the 
 land of 1917 and I recalled the side stations of success 
 and failure, joy and sorrow. 
 
 Midnight found us sitting at a buffet table looking out of 
 the window to see the ghost of the dead year. Did I hear its 
 death-rattle or was it the rattle of the wheels? Instead of a 
 factory whistle, it was the ''toot-toot" of the train, instead of 
 a church bell it was an engine bell ringing out the old and 
 ringing in the new. In the delightful company of my '^reaP'ty 
 friend, C. W. Reynolds, and his wife, we drank to the health of 
 the new year in a cup of coffee, for we were in prohibition 
 Iowa where the only near approach to liquor is Oelwein. 
 
 Ours was an evening of revery, not revelry. The proverb 
 *'time flies" is especially true on a train when you are cross- 
 ing the border between the old and new year. At forty miles 
 an hour we were surely "speeding" the parting guest. The 
 C. & G. W. shook us up like ivories in a dice-box and our pack 
 of cares rolled away like Pilgrim's bundle of sin. 
 
 To make the New Year happy and prosperous I made some 
 new resolutions: Not to write another book; never to tell 
 the truth ; to believe all I read in the papers ; to drive my auto 
 with more Pure Oil and less profane thoughts; never to criti- 
 cize the Democratic party; to think everybody better than 
 myself ; to love my enemies ; never to travel with Trouble ; to 
 preach that the world is perfect ; to go to the movies ; to be a 
 gentleman and not pay my bills ; to learn how to smoke, drink, 
 play cards and gossip and so be eligible to high society; to be 
 a successful, tricky business man ; to cultivate a heavy head of 
 hair; never to look twice at one pretty girl. But you must re- 
 
ON THE WARPATH 13 
 
 member that New Year resolutions are made to be broken 
 and I have broken these every daj^ since. 
 
 Chicago on New Year's day at 10 A. M. looked like a ceme- 
 tery shrouded in snow. The inhabitants were dead asleep in 
 a Rip Van Winkle nap from 1917 to 1918. This city of soot 
 and sin in its robe of snow looked like a criminal in a surplice. 
 
 THE PANAMA LIMITED 
 
 THE Panama Limited took us, in 23 hours, to New 
 Orleans. It was the I. C. road but I didn't see much 
 scenery outside, though there was enough inside to 
 make up for it. This was travel de looks. There was 
 a barber shop on the train, but I just had had a *' close shave" 
 and was too bald to need a haircut ; and a shower-bath — not a 
 luxury but a necessity for people leaving Chicago. There was 
 a ladies' maid to manicure, but my wife had me in hand, and 
 the services of the gentle octoroon were not needed. A valet 
 service filled a pressing need and suited lovers who had jostled 
 each other on the observation platform. A telephone service 
 made it possible for the traveler to say ''Hello" to Central 
 and '* Good-bye" to his creditors. 
 
 The dining car was built architecturally high for observa- 
 tion. I observed the high prices on the menu, the "flat coun- 
 try and my flat pocketbook. The service was rather niggard, 
 yet you expect that from colored waiters. 
 
 There was a new wrinkle in the curtains of the sleeper. 
 They call them *' split-berth" curtains for when the berths are 
 made up the curtains completely cut off one berth from an- 
 other. A great blessing. No longer does the poor unfortunate, 
 doomed to an upper, make that embarrassing ascension by put- 
 ting his foot in your mouth or stomach, or are you, in a lower, 
 forced to watch the gymnastic and vaudeville performance of 
 the man or woman going up. 
 
 One takes the Panama Limited route for speed, not scenery. 
 It's a ''fast" train for fast people and almost wholly "limited" 
 to this class who fly South at this season of the year. The 
 scenery is limited because the road doesn't show you anj^thing 
 
14 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 except a straight line, the shortest distance between the two 
 points of Chicago and New Orleans. The line is a "clothes" 
 line as well, for there are many well dressed passengers on it. 
 The blizzard that had struck out from Chicago had given a 
 blow below the corn belt, but on the next day this foul bluster- 
 er was knocked out. Sleet and snow were exchanged for 
 swamps, Spanish moss, pine-woods, cotton fields and truck 
 gardens. Our train rounded Lake Pontchartrain and entered 
 New Orleans, the city of molasses and lassitude. 
 
 PASSPCHTS CONFISCATED 
 
 In this ''Paris of America" we taxied to the French 
 Hotel Monteleone. It was full, but in the spirit of 
 Lafayette, room was made for us as Allied Americans. 
 
 'On my return to the hotel from the boat office, where 
 I had shown tickets and passports and was making final pre- 
 parations for sailing, the phone rang and I was asked to come 
 down to the lobby to see some one. I wondered what friend 
 had come to bid me good-bye. He was a good Shriner, but 
 instead of saying, "Hello, Noble, let her go," he informed 
 me that he had just dropped in to confiscate my passport on 
 a wire from the Department of Justice at Washington. This 
 was no surprise after my arrest at Minneapolis, but it did 
 amaze him when he saw my letters of introduction and com- 
 mendation. 
 
 "On the square" at the Federal Building I told him what 
 had recently happened. He didn't see why the government 
 should stop me any more than I do now. I was ushered into 
 the office, and while he went out to confer with his superior 
 and show him my letters, a man entered followed by a Depart- 
 ment agent. The man sat opposite, looked nice and was social. 
 I imagined he was a government official, until our conversa- 
 tion was interrupted by the agent who stepped up to him, ran 
 his hands over his hip pockets to see whether he had a gun, 
 and like a true Artful Dodger, went through his pockets with 
 lightning speed, relieving them of papers, knife and money. 
 Wondering what I was in for and whether I had anything they 
 
ON THE WARPATH 15 
 
 wanted, for as a patriotic citizen I was willing to give outright 
 or make a Liberty Loan, the door opened and in walked Mr. 
 Schaumberg and his superior Mr. Pendleton. They returned 
 my letters but kept the passport. When I asked the reason 
 for this official act they showed the telegram from Mr. Bielaski 
 at Washington who said they were to take up the passport 
 of Julian L. Morrill. I said my name wasn't Julian but Gulian, 
 and that I was not related to the famous Christian apostate 
 of that name any more than he, Pendleton, was related to Dr. 
 Pendleton, the famous Baptist divine and writer on doctrine. 
 He said that was all he knew or could do about the case. It 
 was enough. When I learned I was free and not to be jailed 
 or have my baggage confiscated, I hied me to the Western 
 Union and for two days made the wires hot to AYashington 
 asking why my passport was taken up. The Department of 
 ^Mustice'' replied it was taken at the request of the Depart- 
 ment of State, but all my wires to that Department were un- 
 answered. An American citizen expects this treatment in 
 Mexico and Latin America, not in the U. S. A. 
 
 Before the war one could leave the country without a pass- 
 port, not now. How difficult it had been to get it even at the 
 cost of time, money, questions and delay, and when I did have 
 it, I wondered why it was issued if it was to be taken up so 
 soon. 
 
 The ship sailed away without us, though we hoped to be 
 able to make the next one. I wired again and again and re- 
 ceived no answer, offered to go to Washington if necessary to 
 fix up the matter, whatever it was, but it was useless — there 
 was no more reply than when I talked to the Sphinx in Egypt. 
 The government was as reticent as when it is questioned con- 
 cerning its Mexican policy. However, I found one citizen in 
 Washington — that city of demi-tasse, demi-gods, demimonde, 
 demagogues and Democrats, which shames the spirit of Wash- 
 ington and Lincoln — my friend Senator Knute Nelson, who 
 was not too busy, dignified or prejudiced to answer the ques- 
 tion of an American citizen in distress. He wired that he 
 could do nothing for me, that the passport had been confiscated 
 on account of my Mexico book. I was relieved to know it was 
 simply this and nothing more. But why this? Was it be- 
 
16 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 cause I criticized the Administration's dismal diplomacy in 
 Mexico in not protecting or avenging the theft, murder and 
 rape of Americans there, or because I exposed Carranza's Pro- 
 Germanism and told the truth about existing conditions? I 
 should have been awarded a medal of honor and vote of thanks 
 by the U. S. government, received a diplomatic mission with 
 expenses paid and a salary for revealing German plot and per- 
 fidy in Mexico against the United States. 
 
 "Who were favored with passports? Professional gamblers, 
 pleasure-seekers, sports, pimps and prostitutes to Havana; a 
 murderess to Honolulu ; priestly plotters to Panama ; and diplo- 
 matic intrigues of the " delindquent ' ' John Lind type all over 
 the world. You see, I was not in their class. Although no 
 one is allowed to enter Mexico without a passport, hundreds 
 of Americans without passports recently crossed over the 
 Mexican border to engage in a Pre-Lenten carnival carousal. 
 Our Department of State is very fastidious concerning the 
 reasons and motives of persons leaving the U. S. 
 
 The U. S. government, through the postal authorities, was 
 very glad and quick to arrest me on the lying charge of a 
 low-browed, shrivelled souled man in Aurora, 111., but has 
 been very slow to avenge obscene insults to our flag, ribald 
 attacks on Uncle Sam and vile outrage and murder to American 
 women and men in Mexico. 
 
 The day our boat sailed, word was received in New Orleans 
 to confiscate my son's passport. What had he done? Was 
 the government to take the divine prerogative and visit the 
 inquities of the fathers upon the children? 
 
 Here I was, not a man without a country, but without per- 
 mission to leave my country. What crimes, unwhipped of 
 justice, had I committed? It is true that I had volunteered 
 to enter the army or navy, but was rejected on account of my 
 age. Further, I had offered to go to France with my son, who 
 had been honorably discharged from Camp Dodge by reason 
 of defective vision, to secure material for lectures for the Red 
 Cross or any other war philanthropy. This offer was not ac- 
 cepted. 
 
 Since September 7, 1917, a regulation of the Federal Re- 
 serve Board was enforced permitting travelers leaving the 
 country to carry on their persons or in their baggage : U. S, 
 
ON THE WARPATH 17 
 
 notes, national bank notes and Federal Reserve notes, not to 
 exceed $5,000 for each adult; American silver dollars, sub- 
 sidiary silver coins and silver certificates not to exceed $200 
 for each adult; gold coin or gold certificates not to exceed 
 $200 for each adult. Punishment for violation of this regu- 
 lation was a fine of not more than $10,000, or iinprisonment 
 for not more than 2 years or both, and the confiscation of all 
 the money to the U. S. My friends know there was never any 
 danger of my violation of this rule. 
 
 The United Fruit Steamship Co. sadly refunded our money 
 on the steamer tickets, but not the $15 war tax on them. Yet 
 I was pleased to add this to the other amounts I had sub- 
 scribed to the war fund. 
 
 I was not hindered by further arrest or confiscation from 
 pious and patriotic pastimes. On the Pacific coast I lectured 
 for the Red Cross, wrote patriotic editorials and preached 
 Christian citizenship sermons. 
 
 Tired of little things and people, I spent three months in 
 mountain, desert and by the ocean. I found the Apache In- 
 dians, miners and fishers more civil, liberal, fair, patriotic, in- 
 teresting and companionable than many so-called Americans 
 further East. 
 
 The "West is in this war to fight the Kaiser to a finish and is 
 willing to make sacrifice of money and men, but is sane, be- 
 lieving that liberty and democracy are the safeguards of 
 America and should not all be exported to Europe. 
 
 MANUSCRIPT STOLEN 
 
 HETHER the reader has read my Mexico book or not, 
 he may find the following account of its production 
 and publication as interesting as any chapter in it. 
 Last fall a man telephoned my residence and asked 
 to see the manuscript of my book, ''The Devil in Mexico.'* 
 His name was Richard P. Esswein. On Oct. 17th he came to 
 my house, said he had heard me speak on Mexico, understood 
 I was publishing a book on my trip to that country, and asked 
 
Ih, ON THE WARPATH 
 
 the name of my publisher. I told him, M. A. Donohue of 
 Chicago. He declared that he and a certain Mr. *' Jones," 
 who had money, would like to publish the book on a big scale. 
 He asked if he might take the manuscript home, read it and 
 show it to Mr. ** Jones," and assured me he would return it 
 the next day. I told him to take it and his time reading it, 
 hoping he would like it well enough to publish it. 
 
 Days went hy and no manuscript was returned. On Oct. 
 30th, I think, I called him up but he was not at home. On 
 Oct. 31st he telephoned the house. Mrs. Morrill answered and 
 informed him I wanted the manuscript. He said his wife had 
 been sick, but that he had finished reading it and would bring 
 it to me at my house that afternoon. 
 
 Before he arrived I received a letter from my publisher, 
 M. A. Donohue, who stated that he did not wish to be in- 
 volved in any lawsuits, and enclosed a copy of the following 
 letter of Oct. 25th from John Lind : 
 
 Minnesota Commission of Public Safety 
 State Capitol, Saint Paul 
 
 M. A. Donohue Co., 
 Chicago. 
 
 Gentlemen : 
 
 My attention has been called to a manuscript by the Rev. 
 G. L. Morrill, now said to be in your hands for publication in 
 book form, the book to be called, **The Devil in Mexico." 
 Glancing over the copy of the manuscript, which has been 
 placed in my hands, I cannot escape the conviction that the 
 book, if published, will cause great injury to the relations 
 between our country and Mexico, and that it will materially 
 aid German propaganda in the latter country. 
 
 The publication, it seems to me, is not only ill-advised, but 
 libelous and scandalous. The chapters commenting on my 
 public work cannot be considered as written in fair criticism. 
 They are evidently dictated by a spirit of malice and are 
 criminally libelous, both in your state and in this state. I 
 thought it only fair to call your attention to my views in time, 
 and in advance of publication, so that you may fully consider 
 
ON THE WARPATH 19 
 
 the consequences of publication before any expense is incurred. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 (Signed) JOHN LIND. 
 
 On Oct. 31st, replying to a letter from Donohue, Mr. Lind 
 wrote : 
 
 Mr. J. W. Donohue, Vice-President, 
 M. A. Donohue & Co., 
 Chicago, Illinois. 
 
 Dear Sir: 
 
 Your favor of October 30th is at hand and noted. In para- 
 graph 2 of your letter you say ''Nor do we wish to publish 
 a book which will libel you or anyone else. If there be any- 
 thing in this book libelous we ask you to point out to us spe- 
 cifically the libelous matter and advise us wherein and for 
 what reason it is libelous,'^ etc. In answer I beg leave to sug- 
 gest that the entire chapter, or topic, devoted to the discus- 
 sion of myself and my services in public life is libelous. A 
 mere cursory reading makes this so apparent that it is idle 
 and unnecessary to particularize. 
 
 In paragraph 1 you say, **"We will not publish any book 
 which is likely to injure our Country, but we cannot take 
 your mere statement that the book will injure our Country 
 and we ask you to point out to us the specific portions of the 
 manuscript, a publication of which will produce such injury, 
 and on your failure to do so, we shall assume that you are 
 in error in the charge you make.*' In answer to this para- 
 graph permit me to state that reflection only confirms the view 
 I expressed to you that the publication of a book like ''The 
 Devil in Mexico" would be very embarrassing and injurious 
 to our relations with Mexico. In saying this, however, I do 
 not assume to speak for the Government. A portion of the 
 manuscript was transmitted to the Secretary of State, who, I 
 understand, has turned it over to the Attorney General. You 
 can probably obtain the information you desire by writing 
 the latter official. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 (Signed) JOHN LIND. 
 
20 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 After dark on the evening of Oct. 31st, Mr. Esswein came 
 to my home, handed me the manuscript, and innocently ex- 
 claimed, *'I wonder how any outside party discovered I had 
 this manuscript?" Then he told me that, although he had 
 shown it to no one except Mr. *' Jones" who had read it, locked 
 it in his safe and shown it to no one, a man, wearing some 
 sort of official star, came to Mr. ''Jones' " office and de- 
 manded the manuscript. But it was not given up, Esswein 
 said, because the man had no authority or warrant to take 
 it. Esswein then stated that during his absence, a man wear- 
 ing a star came to his (Esswein 's) home and commanded his 
 sister to give him the manuscript. She let him look for it, 
 but he couldn't find it, because he (Esswein) was carrying it 
 around town with him that day. Esswein then said that while 
 he was bringing the manuscript to me he looked about, again 
 and again, to see if he was shadowed, and that before entering 
 my house he glanced around to see if spies were following 
 him. I asked Esswein what he would suggest or advise if 
 any officers came to my house for the manuscript. He re- 
 plied, *'I don't know — it's yours now — I brought it to you 
 unharmed — why not burn it?" 
 
 On November 5th I received a letter from my publishers 
 saying that after careful consideration they regretted they 
 could not go on with the work because they did not ''wish to 
 get into any controversy with Mr. John Lind, who has 
 threatened to sue us for libel in case we print this book." 
 They enclosed a copy of a letter to Mr. Lind in which they 
 informed him they had concluded not to print the book be- 
 cause they did not wish to get into any controversy with 
 him. 
 
 On Wednesday evening, Nov. 7th, I was billed to lecture on 
 "Mexico" at the Odin Club. Although this announcement 
 had been posted for two weeks on the Club Bulletin Board, 
 and further had been noticed in the city press, the day before 
 the lecture the following notice was mailed to the members: 
 
 ODIN CLUB— NOTICE! 
 
 The Lecture by Rev. G. L. Morrill, Scheduled for Wednes- 
 day, November 7th, has been cancelled. 
 
 BOARD OF DIRECTORS. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 21 
 
 This action took place without the knowledge of the Presi- 
 dent of the Club, and, as I learned, through the insistent rec- 
 ommendation of Mr. Lind, who is a member of the Club. 
 
 If Mr. Esswein let no one see the manuscript, except Mr. 
 ** Jones" who hid it in his safe, how did Mr. Lind obtain 
 copies of it? Possibly the recent Luxburg incident in Argen- 
 tina, which showed how well the Germans and Swedes could 
 treacherously work together, although their **spurlos versenkt" 
 failed, might answer and explain the question. 
 
 "Why was Mr. Lind afraid of the publication of this book? 
 
 What right had he to make copies of a private manuscript? 
 Why did he use the Safety Commission for his own safety and 
 try to suppress the book without my knowledge ? Why did he 
 resort to such underhand methods? Why didn't he come to 
 me in the first place, and tell me what he thought? We live 
 in the same city — why did he discuss it with others in Chicago 
 and Washington? 
 
 Did he think that, because he could intimidate a publisher 
 with threats of lawsuits, it would stop a Christian minister 
 and American citizen from printing the book, or cause him to 
 censor the chapter on his "deLINDquent" diplomacy in Mex- 
 ico? Some people seem to think it's worse for the clergyman 
 to censure wrong than it is for them to commit it. The min- 
 ister is to pay no attention to the squatter claims of any politi- 
 cian who would muzzle him. Let clerical, autocratic Europe 
 and her mouthpieces in Latin America wear muzzles, but it is 
 the glory of American democracy to take orders direct from 
 God and His Word and express them in free thought and 
 speech according to the dictates of conscience. 
 
 Why did Mr. Lind prohibit my lecture on Mexico, and on 
 what authority? He should remember that he is in free Amer- 
 ica now, not Mexico, and that Machiavellian and Kaiseristic 
 methods are not calculated to make the world, and that part 
 of it known as Minneapolis, ''safe for democracy.'* 
 
 Who appointed Mr. Lind U. S. censor of books and lec- 
 tures? By what authority of God or man did he use his Safety 
 Board position as a club over the heads of respectable citizens? 
 
22 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 This is no time for the revival of the Roman proscription, the 
 gentle Inquisition, the Venetian Council of Ten or a Lettre 
 de Cachet regime. 
 
 This is the Twentieth Century, and not the Middle Ages. 
 His whole persecuting plot is a beautiful illustration of a 
 diplomacy I characterized in my book as one that ** pulls 
 wires, prevaricates, evades, suppresses truth and juggles jus- 
 tice.'' 
 
 If Mr. Lind wants his record brought up before the courts, 
 I am willing, although it would seem unnecessary, since every- 
 body in Mexico and the United States who knows anything 
 about the Mexican situation is already familiar with it. 
 
 In order to cover up the history of his diplomatic failure, 
 which I revealed in my book, Mr. Lind *' camouflages" about 
 the book being ** embarrassing and injurious to our relations 
 with Mexico," and maliciously libels and slanders it and its 
 author by sajdng it is *' ill-advised," ** libelous," *' scandalous," 
 and that it will *' materially aid the German propaganda" in 
 Mexico. These are the charges of a diplomut, cursed in Mexico 
 and laughed at in the United States — of a man whose mission 
 did more to injure friendly relations between the two coun- 
 tries than anyone I know of. 
 
 If it is ''ill-advised" for an American citizen to tell hov/ he 
 escaped with his life from a bandit-infested country; if it is 
 *' libelous" to tell the truth about Mexico's depravity, desti- 
 tution, hellish atrocities, despots, diplomatic duplicity, greaser 
 hatred of Americans and love to insult Old Glory; if it is 
 *' injurious to our relations with Mexico," and "materially aid- 
 ing pro-German propaganda," to expose German plotting and 
 perfidy in Mexico against our countrj^, and to stand by our 
 flag in this war of Democracy against imperial Kaiserism; if 
 it is "scandalous" to pay tribute to the memory of good 
 American women dishonored, children maltreated, and Amer- 
 ican citizens tortured, robbed and murdered in Mexico — then 
 my book on Mexico is infernal treason, I am a despicable 
 traitor and deserve to be imprisoned for life or to face the 
 firing squad. 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 23 
 
 SUPPRESSING TRUTH 
 
 HAVE traveled the world and found it had boun- 
 daries, but have discovered that human ignorance 
 and prejudice have no limits. Contrary to recent 
 press reports, my book is not being used in Mexico 
 to ''inflame'* the people. What has been quoted from me is 
 from the Associated Press and newspaper syndicate accounts 
 of my visit and opinions given on my return from Mexico last 
 year. 
 
 To say my book gives ''aid and comfort to the enemy" is 
 as funny as it is false. In my press articles and book chapters 
 I exposed German propaganda in Mexico against the United 
 States. Of course, the Devil can cite Scripture for his pur- 
 pose, and we know the Kaiser has distributed President "Wil- 
 son's speeches in a garbled and false-meaning manner to stir 
 up nations against America. My book, "The Devil in Mex- 
 ico," is patriotic from cover to cover, and is no more a prop- 
 aganda for the Kaiser's agents in Mexico than the Bible is a 
 guidebook for Satan. I would rather be pro-Hell than pro- 
 German. 
 
 The reason Carranza suppressed newspapers in Mexico 
 City was not because they were pro-German and using my 
 articles, but because the editors dared to criticize his rule- 
 and-ruin policy. The fact that Mexico is neutral today is evi- 
 dence that she is a German ally. Now one must be either for 
 or against autocracy or democracy, imperialism or individ- 
 ualism. 
 
 A Mr. Charles Petran, a Presbyterian missionary to Mex- 
 ico, was quoted recently in the Minneapolis Daily News as 
 saying: "We must not let the kindly spirit of mutual appre- 
 ciation between peoples be killed by such books as Mr. Mor- 
 rill proposes to publish, and which enmesh governments in a 
 net of deceit and distrust." 
 
 T know we are commanded to "love" our enemies, but the 
 Redeemer, who bade us not to cast our pearls before swine, 
 does not expect us to say "muchas gratias'* to the Mexican 
 who burns, butchers, robs and rapes Americans, though Mr. 
 
24 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 Petran and some diplomuts we have sent to Mexico say we 
 should. 
 
 As to ^* seeds of hate, deceit and distrust," they have been 
 sown, not by me, but by clerical and diplomatic duplicity 
 which has made Mexicans love to hate us so that the sight of 
 an American is the occasion for derision and profanity, our 
 government is execrated and Old Glory obscenely insulted. 
 
 I hope my book, like dynamite, will ''raise the Devil" in 
 Mexico, where he is so firmly entrenched, and that his Satanic 
 spirit and sway will be utterly ''razed." 
 
 As to "suppressing my book," I have told only the truth, 
 and truth cannot be suppressed. 
 
 POSTAL INQUISITORS 
 
 SHORTLY after the book was published, the post office 
 inspectors became inquisitors and asked me every 
 thing between my prenatal and postmortem existence. 
 I was summoned by phone to a Star-Chamber 
 session in the Minneapolis post office, presided over by Postal 
 Suspectors W. J. Morles and C. F. Egge. An Inquisition, 
 Ecumenical Council, Bar of Conscience or Future Judgment 
 could scarcely ask more questions than they asked me. Their 
 interrogations were absurd, impertinent, irrelevant, and ap- 
 parently asked to satisfy mere curiosity. Who was I? Why 
 was I? Where was I? How much money did I have in the 
 bank? How did I make it? Was it in my name? What was 
 my business and my belief? Why did I travel? Who accom- 
 panied me? Where had I ever been? How many years ago, 
 and when? How much did it cost? Did I write, preach and 
 lecture? How much did I make? Who printed my books? 
 How many? Did I write for the press and magazines? What 
 salary did I receive ? How large were their circulations ? What 
 were my motives? Who financed my books? Did I pay for 
 them in cash or check, and in my name or my wife's name? 
 How much did it cost to travel? Why did people read me 
 and hear me? Where did I preach? How long had I been at 
 it? Why did I talk and write as 1 did? Where did I live, 
 
ON THE WARPATH 25 
 
 and where had I lived? What pastorates had I had? What 
 property did I possess? So on and so forth, from A to Z, ad 
 nauseam. 
 
 This information, and much more, I laughingly volun- 
 teered, answering them patiently, politely, categorically, meta- 
 phorically, allegorically and paregorically, as a good little 
 boy should. As I remember now, there were two or three im- 
 portant things they forgot to ask, and I now answer for future 
 reference. Do I chew gum ? Infrequently. Who is my favor- 
 ite movie actress? Never had any. When do I retire? At 
 different times. Is my appetite good? Yes. Do I prefer 
 tailor or ready made clothing? Anything I can get. Do I 
 drive an auto? Something that looks like one. Did my an- 
 cestors read the Bible? Yes. Did my boys have the measles 
 when young? Sure. Who struck Billy Patterson? Ask 
 Dooley. Who has been the pastor for the longest time in 
 Minneapolis, traveled more miles, lectured about it and writ- 
 ten more books than all the other ministers put together? I 
 am too modest to tell. Reader, can you beat it? Whoever, 
 at any time, anywhere outside of a lunatic asylum, was for any 
 reason asked so many questions? 
 
 OFFICIAL FRAUD 
 
 SEVERAL months later, on my return from California, 
 some chapters were added to the volume of postal 
 persecution. 
 
 I have traveled in Russia, Germany and Mexico, 
 and in their attempts to suppress truth I never found any 
 more flagrant outrage on its justice and liberty than I have 
 unearthed in the Minneapolis post office. 
 
 For months it accepted my money for postage on my Mex- 
 ico books with one hand and with the other held them up 
 in the mail, without even notifying me or my purchasers. 
 
 What authority was there for this literary lettre de cachet 
 sent from Washington to our Department ? Was it on account 
 
 of malicious, lying, libelous charges that the book was pro- 
 
26 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 German and obscene — (no more moral and patriotic book 
 could be written) — or is it political persecution because I 
 criticized the Administration's woeful diplomacy in Mexico 
 in not protecting American citizens against murder, rape, theft, 
 and our flag from unspeakable insult? 
 
 The Department's conspiracy of silence and suppression 
 is mediaeval, monarchical, unfair and un-American, and con- 
 victs it of culpable misuse of the mail. 
 
 "Why didn't the Janus-faced officials of our post office tell 
 me on what pretext my books were held, my money accepted 
 and my honest reputation among book purchasers held in 
 question? 
 
 True, some of my books reached their destination in spite 
 of the order to hold them. Was this through compassion for 
 me, or just plain inefficiency? 
 
 Mercury was the messenger and mail-carrier for the Gods, 
 and he was also the God of thieves. May the God of Washing- 
 ton and Lincoln forbid that he become the patron saint of the 
 U. S. postal department. 
 
 Postmaster E. A. Purdy said that my indictment for send- 
 ing **The Devil in Mexico," an "obscene" book, through the 
 mail was sufficient cause for holding it up. I emphatically 
 deny that it is obscene ; but even if it were, that does not 
 explain why it was detained four and a half months before 
 the indictment. 
 
 The book was scarcely off the press before it was held. 
 This proves that all that the Washington officials knew about 
 it was from "portions" of the manuscript sent them by John 
 Lind. 
 
 When I complained to Postal Inspectors W. J. Morles and 
 C. F. Egge, shortly after the publication of the book, that 
 some of the copies were not reaching their destinations, they 
 professed surprise, although they doubtless knew then the 
 book was being held. Not once did these inspectors intimate 
 that the book was "obscene." 
 
 Mr. Purdy said the book was held because it was "ob- 
 scene," yet when I asked Mr. I. C. Crowley and John 
 Lucey why the book was detained they said they did not 
 know, but simply were acting on orders from Washington. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 27 
 
 However, the postmaster complacently informed the gen- 
 eral public that private inspectors had the right to bar any- 
 thing they deemed objectionable, and that my book was con- 
 sidered ''in this light." It would seem the ''light" my book 
 was viewed in was midnight by these wise owl inspectors. 
 As a Christian citizen, I object to being placed in this ''light." 
 
 If "The Devil in Mexico" is considered unmailable by 
 these infallible inspectors, I wonder why they let the Bible 
 pass. Is it possible they never read it? Shakespeare goes 
 through the Minneapolis post office — but then, he never crit- 
 icized John Lind, nor the Democratic maladministration's 
 diplomacy in Mexico. 
 
 It would appear the IT. S, Post Office stands for "Un 
 Speakable Political Organization." 
 
 The "D" in the U. S. Post Office Department stands for 
 Democratic politics, Delay, Despotism, Dishonesty and the 
 Dark Ages. The word FRAUD should be emblazoned in 
 capital letters over the entrance of the Minneapolis Post 
 Office. Though this structure is low architecturally, an in- 
 surmountable, impenetrable Chinese Wall of secrecy has been 
 erected around it. The P. 0. Department at Washington and 
 its branch office in Minneapolis on Washington avenue, con- 
 sidered in the light of truthfulness, honesty and patriotism, 
 are a disgrace to George Washington, Father of Our Country. 
 The "heads" of this institution beautifully illustrate the 
 dictionary definition of "post," as "a piece of timber or 
 any solid material." Politics is the "business" of the Post 
 "Office," although postal methods of investigation are those 
 of the Holy Office of the Inquisition. "Postpone," and not 
 "post haste," is the motto of these mail men, rigidly and reli- 
 giously observed. But the "mail" of these modern Knights 
 is not invulnerable, but open to the attack of Mediaevalism. 
 The Post Officious officials deserve life memberships in the 
 ancient order of the Knights of the Post, the initiatory degree 
 of which consisted in being "dubbed at the whipping-post." 
 Maeterlinck says that bees will not work except in darkness. 
 The product of the bee's labor is honey and wax — sweetness 
 and light, but the busy bees of the Burleson Hive produce the 
 dirt and poison of libel and lies. 
 
28 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 The Scripture says, ''Men loved darkness rather than light, 
 because their deeds were evil." This may explain why the 
 Postmaster of the Minneapolis Post Office asked me why I 
 wanted to turn the light of publicity on their department, and 
 why I didn't keep the matter quiet. Yet last December it 
 was the Postal Inspectors who held the threatening club of 
 pitiless newspaper publicity over my head if I did not tell 
 them how much money I had in the bank. I told them the 
 truth — a poor preacher can afford to tell nothing else — yet 
 what my small bank account had to do with the "obscenity" 
 the Department five months later alleged to be in my book, 
 *'The Devil in Mexico," only the defective or detective (which 
 is it?) brain of an inspector knows. 
 
 Col. Roosevelt declares the Department of Justice 
 worked hand in glove with the post office persecutors in their 
 attempt to boycott the Metropolitan Magazine. When my 
 book was scarcely off the press and was being held up in the 
 mail, one of Attorney-General Gregory's bloodhounds from 
 the Minneapolis Department of Justice was put on the scent. 
 To change the figure, after a recital of my life-history to this 
 recording angel, I was repeatedly asked who was the publisher 
 of the book. This was the question the Postal Suspectors in- 
 sisted on being answered. I did not see why they were so 
 anxious about it until I called on my publisher in Chicago 
 five months later, on my return from California, and found 
 he had been so mercilessly investigated and quizzed by a U. 
 S. agent that he was afraid to print any more editions of the 
 book. 
 
 In Minneapolis the book was barred out of some book- 
 stores and hotel news-stands, and hidden under the counters 
 in others. Why? Because the press stated that it had been 
 investigated by Federal Agents. To add insult to injury, my 
 passport was confiscated, with no reason given. Although 
 no more patriotic, pro-American, pro-Ally and moral book 
 could be written, the booksellers handled it as cautiously as 
 if it were a German infernal machine. 
 
 Alas! the book was on the Administration's political In- 
 dex Expurgatorius, and I was made the victim of Washing- 
 ton ''Capitol" punishment. Like Roosevelt, I believed that 
 
ON THE WARPATH 29 
 
 the first Article of the Constitution guarantees the right of 
 the people to criticize truthfully the conduct of their public 
 servants and that this right cannot be taken away by any law. 
 But the Administration can forgive everything except the 
 truth you tell about it. To quote further from Roosevelt: 
 ''During the past year, the action of the Administration, taken 
 largely through the post office department, has been such as to 
 render it a matter of some danger for any man and especially 
 any newspaper to speak the truth if that truth be unpleasant 
 to the governmental authorities at Washington." 
 
 The U. S. Government confiscated my passport without giv- 
 ing any reason. The effect of this was to make many of the 
 American people think of me as an undesirable citizen, a pro- 
 German, a plotter, or some dangerous criminal. The U. S. 
 Post Office Department' made me unwittingly a thief, fraud 
 and liar, in the eyes of my book purchasers, by holding up 
 my books without notification to them or me. It also held un- 
 lawfully other books of mine, for which it had no order from 
 Washington. Colonel Roosevelt says that the editor of the 
 Metropolitan Magazine asked the Postmaster-General what 
 steps would be taken to repair the damage done them by the 
 P. 0. Department, and that the editor received no reply. I 
 have asked the Democratic demagogues and Demi-gods of the 
 U. S. Government and U. S. Post Office for the reasons of the 
 postal suppression of my book and unjustifiable defamation 
 of my patriotic character and name, but it seems that my in- 
 quiries, like the appeals of American citizens in Mexico sub- 
 ject to rape, murder and robbery, might be directed more ef- 
 fectually to the Sphinx. 
 
 I believe in the American Trinity of the Constitution, the 
 Declaration of Independence and the Flag, but if the time 
 ever comes when the humblest citizen beneath Old Glory *s 
 folds is not heard in his cry for justice that flag will become 
 a rag despised of God and man. 
 
30 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 PRESS COMMENT 
 
 |N New Orleans my life was not that of a lonely, lowly 
 outcast. I received friendly visits from United 
 States officials and newspaper reporters, who fre- 
 quently came to view and interview me. They later 
 showed wires from Minneapolis papers which seemed to think 
 that the author was a devil in his own home town and might 
 possibly be worse when away from it. So they were anxious 
 to have hundreds of words describing my proposed sailing, 
 seizure of passports, the scene, the surprise of the strangers, 
 my embarrassment, and anything that would make a big head- 
 line story on the front page. Funny! The very paper that 
 refused to notice my book a month before was glad now to 
 print big headline ads for nothing. Strange! Two lines of 
 a church notice on the subject ** Heaven,'* in small type and 
 obscure place, will cost you a dollar and a half, but if, in the 
 language of the street, the newspapers want to ** raise hell" 
 they will give you two columns of lies on the front page for 
 nothing. As well look for virtue in a brothel as honor in 
 some newspapers. These press panderers, character-assassins, 
 political profiteers, jugglers of justice, bigoted boycotters and 
 destroyers of ideals, spread columns of slander and will not 
 print a paragraph of truth in refutation. I believe in the 
 tongue of the Liberty Bell, but not in that of Libel. What 
 Dean Swift said of *' Censure" applies to them — 
 
 **Bare innocence is no support 
 When you are tried in Scandal's court. 
 Stand high in honor, wealth or wit; 
 All others, who inferior sit. 
 Conceive themselves in conscience bound 
 To join, and drag you to the ground. 
 
 Nor can ten hundred thousand lies 
 Make you less virtuous, learned, or wise. 
 The most effectual way to balk 
 Their malice, is — to let them talk." 
 
ON THE WARPATH 31 
 
 Who are these almighty judges who in their daily columns 
 pass sentence on the human race? Syndicate owners who 
 own sin enough, provincial editors who haven't traveled far 
 outside of their own state or country, and reporters who 
 are unable to write, spell and correctly punctuate a column of 
 common English. 
 
 Listen to Theophile Gautier, the famous French novelist, 
 essayist and wit, who wrote for newspapers most of his life, 
 and surely knew what he was talking about when he described 
 them: 
 
 ''The people sacrifice their welfare to the poor pleasure of 
 reading every morning a few broad sheets of bad paper soiled 
 with bad ink and bad style. The reading of newspapers pre- 
 vents the existence of true scholars and true artists. The news- 
 paper kills the book, as the book has killed architecture, and 
 as artillery has killed courage and muscular strength. We are 
 not aware of what pleasures newspapers deprive us. They 
 rob everything of its virginity; owing to them, we can have 
 nothing of our own, and cannot possess a book all to our- 
 selves ; they rob you of surprise at the theatre and tell you all 
 of the catastrophes beforehand ; they take away from you the 
 pleasure of tattling, chattering, gossiping and slandering, of 
 composing a piece of news or hawking a true one for a week 
 through all the drawing-rooms of society. They intone their 
 ready-made judgments to us, whether we want them or not, 
 and prepossess us against things that we should like; it is 
 also owing to them that all day long, instead of artless ideas 
 or individual stupidity, we hear half-digested scraps of news- 
 paper which resemble omelets raw on one side and burnt on 
 the other, and that we are pitilessly surfeited with news two 
 or three hours old and already known to infants at the breast ; 
 they blunt our taste, and make us like those peppered-brandy 
 drinkers and file and rasp swallowers, who have ceased to find 
 any flavor in the most generous wines and cannot apprehend 
 their flowery and fragrant bouquet. Charles X alone really 
 understood this question. By ordering the suppression of the 
 newspapers he did a great service to the arts and to civiliza- 
 tion. These perpetual barkings deaden inspiration and fill 
 
32 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 heart and intellect with such distrust that we dare not have 
 faith even in a poet or government." 
 
 CENTAURS 
 
 THE human race and horse race are one in New Orleans, 
 for the people are centaurs. During the day hotel 
 foyers, street corners and curbstones were crowded 
 with bettors and worsers, aiding and abetting the 
 game which deteriorates the race of horses and degenerates the 
 race of men. Men stood everywhere with their hands full of 
 long green bills, boys were scattering handbills, and both were 
 talking horse till hoarse. Horse was in the air — not the poetic 
 flights of Pegasus, but of track-runners; not death's pale horse 
 in Europe, nor even the hobby-horse of any political party. 
 Street cars and autos were placarded with signs, *'To the 
 Races"; newsboys with neuralgic howl were racing up and 
 down with extras and race cards. At the race-track entrance 
 I read the sign, *' Business Men's Racing Association," and, 
 from the crowd, it seemed as though the business were to race. 
 Another sign read, ''Food Will Win," and I bet on that, for 
 it was a safe bet. 
 
 Fast horses and women were there. It was a free-for-all 
 for the ladies, who were admitted free with gentleman escort, 
 and so had pin money for ribbons or to wager on some favorite. 
 
 Betting was the main thing in the race. Some women I 
 spoke to said they just went to bet, and did bet, and one French 
 girl I met invited me to take her out to the races so she could 
 bet her money — but you bet I didn't. 
 
 Not only were the races the subject of conversation on the 
 street, but for sermons in the churches. 1 heard a minister tell 
 his congregation that a young man came begging to him to 
 take care of his family, since he had lost $500 on a race. He 
 had come here with his young wife from the East to start life, 
 but got a wrong start and lost out. 
 
 New Orleans is a cosmopolitan city and has all the races, 
 but the most flourishing is the horse race. Here I saw the 
 
ON THE WARPATH 33 
 
 theory of evolution reversed and how man had brought the 
 monkey down to his own level. We entered a building where 
 there was a miniature auto race track and cars driven by 
 trained monkeys. It was arranged as a real speed contest. 
 The manager said the cars jumped the track sometimes and the 
 monkeys were killed — but no matter, there were others, and 
 the race went on with unconfined joy. The moral is that men 
 or monkeys on mere pleasure bent get broke. 
 
 Alas ! to what low levels do horse and monkey descend 
 when they come in contact with the human animal, man! How 
 enraged one of Gulliver's horse Houyhnhnms would be to 
 see how these New Orleans Yahoo jockeys race and degrade 
 his noble race. "Were I a horse, I would kick. Job, more than 
 Rosa Bonheur, has given the world a picture of the horse. I 
 am sure Job would boil and get sore if he went to a modern 
 race-track. 
 
 A DETHRONED KING 
 
 ING Carnival was canned here this year because they 
 were cannonading kings in Europe. There were 
 wrecks enough there without a Rex here. Speaking 
 officially as a clergyman, T was not sorry that this 
 relic of Latin licentiousness and riot was omitted. In past 
 years Waterloo's "revelry by night" was outdone here. Streets 
 were a riot of rogues' revelry and ribaldry, a mad pageant of 
 music, masks and merriment, a mob of men and maidens. 
 Whatever the pageant seemed to be outside, it was plain the 
 devil spirit was inside. 
 
 The carnival floats have not represented subjects from 
 Biblical or secular history so much as from pagan mythology, 
 passions, Five Senses, Arabian Nights, Pursuit of Pleasure, 
 Demonology, devils, drink and dancing. 
 
 The carnival this year was not a big ballroom and garden, 
 but an army and camp. Instead of papier-mache floats, there 
 were khaki-clad soldiers ; Liberty Loan banners, and not silly 
 pennants.; booths of Red Cross, and not bars of red rum. The 
 
34 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 quadrille had given way to squad drill. The men are learning 
 to throw the confetti of hand-grenades. Instead of society paint 
 and powder, there is the soldier art of camouflage. In lieu of 
 red fire, there is the banner of Old Glory. Freak carnival 
 costumes have been exchanged for the garb of the Red Cross 
 nurse; the mask for the gas-mask; love-songs for the Star- 
 Spangled Banner. The Queen is not Venus, but Joan of Arc ; 
 the King is not Rex, but Uncle Sam. 
 
 MORAL EEPAIES 
 
 |OTHINGr but a world war could put the lid on New 
 Orleans' open garbage can of vice which had long 
 been an eyesore and stench to good citizens. The 
 faded beauties on the primrose path of dalliance have 
 been weeded out, and the crooked street with dark ways made 
 straight. This broad way to Baal, avenue to Avernus, Hell's 
 highway, and promenade to perdition, was closed for moral 
 repairs and sanitary improvements. Degradation slope was 
 graded and a curb set up for evil-doers. 
 
 The gambling doors I saw wide open two years ago were 
 closed and no chance now given. The soft pedal was put on 
 everything but the jazz band that still noisily is permitted 
 to assault and debauch the ear and soul of the rising genera- 
 tion. 
 
 Far be it from me, intentionally or ignorantly, to injure 
 the reputation New Orleans has already attained for wicked- 
 ness and frivolity. The fact that these places are for the pres- 
 ent officially closed need not deter those who journey here 
 for these simple pleasures and from easily finding them. No 
 war order can change the leopard spots of the city. The Epi- 
 curean motto, *'Let us eat, drink and be merry," prevails 
 here according to time-honored custom. 
 
 A theatre we visited offered a bill that would not be al- 
 lowed in any other city in the United States. We went to a 
 mask ball. The manager lamented the decadence of the good 
 old times when drinks were allowed to be sold and dancers 
 
ON THE WARPATH 35 
 
 got drunk. The ticket-taker told me how his real estate ven- 
 tures in private resorts were flourishing, but how difficult it 
 was for him if any soldiers were caught there. The dancers, 
 jumping to the accompaniment of the jazz, acted no more 
 like dancers than the blare, blow and crash of the jazz seemed 
 like music. They jerked about like automatons and marion- 
 ettes and ''hesitated" like victims of locomotor-ataxia; 
 hopped like grasshoppers, and moved with a stop, spring and 
 shuffle, a squirm, a swerve, a swirl, a slide and a slip. It was 
 enough to make Terpsichore sick. The players made hard 
 work and the dancers should have received good wages for 
 such hard labor, for it was simply a dance ''haul." Masking 
 was allowed in the hall, but not on the streets, I learned, for 
 fear of spies and pro-German plots. It would be well if hy- 
 pocrisy everywhere day and night were unmasked. 
 
 MASKS 
 
 A MASK is a disguise. The first was used in Eden 
 when the serpent appeared as an angel of light. The 
 ancient Greeks wore masks at the feast of Bacchus 
 and on the stage, and employed them to represent 
 different ages and types of character. Later, in the sixteenth 
 century, Italy used them for comedy. I have seen savages 
 wear masks to scare away their enemies and evil spirits. I 
 have also met some civilized females whose natural faces 
 needed no mask and were homely enough to frighten off their 
 friends and Satan himself. Perhaps this was the reason why 
 they were never tempted and fell. 
 
 The mask disguise took entertainment form, was intro- 
 duced from Italy to England, and was a favorite pastime 
 with the Court from the time of Henry VIII and Queen Eliz- 
 abeth. Of course, mummery and disguising would appeal to 
 kings and courts who did little more than hoodwink their peo- 
 ple. Milton gives us "Comus," "rare old Ben" Jonson wrote 
 many masques, serious Bacon in his essays refers to masque 
 
 entertainments as mere "toys" scarcely to be mentioned 
 
36 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 among serious subjects. Yet I wonder if he did not feel that 
 deep down all life was a mask, from youth's early love and 
 deceit to death's mask; from the prologue of the cradle to 
 the epilogue of the coffin. 
 
 - One sees masks in costumers* windows of dogs, cats, don- 
 keys, pigs, goats, devils, sheep, and asses, and feels they are 
 but reflections of the faces peering in the windows. 
 
 People wear masks without going to the shop to buy them. 
 The burglar wears one when robbing, but not the respectable 
 bank president, who may be a thief at heart. Animals do not 
 wear masks; we know them at first sight and are guarded 
 against them. It were well for society if men and women 
 appeared in their real nature and character so that inno- 
 cence, youth and virtue were not deceived and sacrificed. 
 
 Life's masks are various. Beauty disguises beastliness 
 of character. The fool wears a professor's cap, and the wise 
 man wears a cap and bells. Wolfish politicians wear a lamb- 
 skin of patriotism. Philandering Fausts wear masks of polite- 
 ness over hearts of pollution. The clergy often wears the livery 
 of heaven to serve the Devil in. The business thief masks under 
 the banner of honesty. War profiteers hide their greed under 
 the mask of loyalty. Tragic hearts wear comedy masks. 
 Error tricks herself out as truth. Death comes in the dis- 
 guises of pleasure, eating and drinking. Unjust law masks 
 itself in the guise of equity. Truth, simplicity and nudity are 
 so togged out as to be scarcely recognized. The Sunday saint 
 is found to be a Monday satyr whose God is a goat. Life is 
 death's masquerade, and all must perish. Death unmasks — 
 we can't carry our masks to the tomb. The white light of the 
 Judgment will reveal all. 
 
 ^sop tells how the fox came to the house of the actor 
 and found a beautiful mask. Placing his paw on the brow, 
 he said, '*What a handsome face we have here. Pity it is 
 that it should want brains." A mask is a hollow, painted, 
 grotesque mockery. Outer show is a poor substitute for inner 
 substance. Profligate Poppea invented the mask to hide the 
 beauty of her face to add to its charm to her lover. The 
 world is a stage, and the curtain is da'* mask," but it cannot 
 veil bad moral character. Children wear sport masks, only to 
 
ON THE WARPATH 37 
 
 take them off later in life and put on worse. Masks are al- 
 ways in style with the world's changing fashion. They are 
 social, commercial, official, religious, orthodox, and moral. 
 Life is a masked ball. At its close men throw off the disguise 
 of king or clown, and we see and are seen to be what we 
 really are. 
 
 JAZZ JAMBOBEE 
 
 |NE o'clock Sunday morning we gazed into a notorious 
 cabaret where the revelers jazzed, boozed, soaked, 
 stuffed and danced while a police officer looked on 
 to see that order was observed while drink orders 
 were served. 
 
 If music is the language of the angels in heaven, the jazz 
 suggests the grunts of the Inferno. It is music gone mad 
 — a big noise, a slambang, or, to quote Milton, ''Such music 
 (as 'tis said) before was never made.'' 
 
 Saul grew mad and threw a javelin at David when he 
 played the harp. If he had heard this band harp on their 
 string, bone, wood, brass, and skin instruments he would 
 have thrown some sticks of dynamite at the bass drum and 
 blown them all up with one bang. It was murderous music, 
 and we felt ''fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils." This 
 night's music was not like the "Twelfth Night," "Sweet 
 sound that breathes upon a bank of violets," but like a hur- 
 ricane blowing on an onion patch. The band was hired to in- 
 vite and promote eating and drinking, but jazz excess surely 
 sickens appetite with its crash, twang, strain and "dying 
 fall." The fiddling fiend of a leader who jumped around, 
 turned a somersault and held the bow in his teeth, proved him- 
 self to be, not a real virtuoso, but a ragtime "vicioso." As 
 he rasped the strings we felt like stringing him up. The slid- 
 ing trombone skated around, charged the air, stabbed empty 
 space and made a noise full of fury signifying nothing. The 
 pianist took a head dive through a wave of melody and played 
 a St. Vitus dance with sharp lightning, treble and thunder 
 
38 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 bass. The drummer was the whole thing behind his cheese- 
 shaped drum. He pelted the skin with savage blows. He 
 was no dub, this rub-a-dub fellow, this drummer traveling 
 across the borderland of sound from the jingle of the trian- 
 gle, smash of the cymbal, crow of the rooster, cry of the baby, 
 and whistle of the train to the final cataclysmic crash. The 
 cornetist blew himself red in the face, splitting his lips and 
 the ears of his hearers, and exploding air to the very crack of 
 Doom. A jazz band is madness set to music. 
 
 In far away lands I have seen savages jump, play and 
 shout. About the only difference between them and this 
 band was that these jazzers wore dress suits. I am sure if 
 they made a tour through the jungles of darkest Africa they 
 would make a hit with the wild animals and savages. Their 
 sheet music was torn into rag time and they tore a passion to 
 tatters. 
 
 GE,AVE THOUGHTS 
 
 AT the risk of pro-German suspicion we visited a Ger- 
 man colony, but the inhabitants were all underground 
 in the cemetery of St. Roch. Four angels (statues) 
 stood at the gate to welcome us. The ground swell 
 of the graves suggested' Flaubert's idea of a cemetery where 
 the tombs were the waves, and the crosses the masts of ship- 
 wrecked vessels. The graves were thick. The inmates of 
 death's hostelry were so crowded that they rested uncomfort- 
 ably, had turned over and pushed up the soil with their 
 shoulders and hips. Signs among the tombstones told one not 
 to loaf or loiter. Did this refer to haunting ghosts, or to 
 idlers like those in Constantinople who go out to the cemetery 
 to lunch and have a pleasant picnic time? It is a bad sign 
 when New Orleans citizens, who should pause in their mad 
 career to think of eternity and have some Browne study of 
 *'Urn Burial" thoughts, are told to move on and not linger. 
 This 'MCeep off the Grass" affair is no place for a Gray with 
 his elegy or poetic muse. 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 39 
 
 Among the tombs were little boxes bearing the word 
 ''Trash." They were for rubbish and waste paper, but might 
 just as well have been graves and epitaphs for the dead, for 
 at last it is all ''dust to dust" for all of us. Even Alexander 
 goes back to dust, and earth loam. "And why of that loam, 
 Avhereto he was converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel?" 
 
 I entered the chapel where wind and rain had come in 
 before me through broken glass and windows. The walls 
 shook as with ague, and the plaster peeled off as skin after 
 a fever. One v/ould think the patron saint of the St. Roch 
 chapel was a cockroach from the dirt and decay everywhere. 
 The irreverent breeze had blown out the sacred candles and 
 made the place seem very mortu"airy." Every morning the 
 mournful bell tells its story, according to Hungarian custom, 
 for the dead in the ravenous graves whose hungry cry of 
 "Give, give," is never satisfied. Votive gifts were to the 
 right and left of the altar, from devout souls who believed 
 their physical ills had been helped at this little miracle-work- 
 ing shrine said to be as efficacious as the larger ones in Eu- 
 rope. Sinbads, weighted with sickness, come to be freed of 
 their burdens. The old shrine itself is so decrepit that unless 
 it receives some sustaining grace it will not be able to stand 
 even with the votive crutches stacked under its walls. The 
 Gothic architecture of this ruined chapel is being destroyed, 
 alas, by the Goth and Vandal Time. The chapel seemed like 
 a mortuary vault for the only occupant was a life-size statue 
 of the crucified Christ placed in a case under the altar like 
 a corpse in a coffin. 
 
 Among the most devout worshippers are the young un- 
 married girls, who, strange as it may seem, come to the ceme- 
 tery to find a living husband. There is a tradition that if 
 a girl will come nine consecutive days to this shrine, walking 
 barefoot, carrying a lighted candle and making a prayer to 
 the patron saint of marriage, St. Joseph, she will get a hus- 
 band and a good one. There will always be a crowd of men 
 to watch this feminine show. I question whether the sight 
 of bare feet after nine day's pilgrimage tramp here, no mat- 
 ter how beautiful these bare feet might be, would have the 
 same attractive power as if they were encased in silk socks 
 
40 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 and high-heeled French shoes. I didn't see any of these man- 
 hunters. Perhaps the girls are all married or don't want to 
 be, or instead of praying for husbands, are praying to be rid 
 of them. 
 
 SOME SAINT 
 
 ABOVE the shrine is a statue of St. Roch and by his 
 side the faithful dog which fed him as miraculously 
 as the ravens did Elijah. Centuries ago he was sick 
 with the plague and left deserted in a forest near the 
 immortal city of Bingen, where lived the soldier of the legion 
 who lay dying in Algiers. 
 
 Years ago I visited La Belle France, stopping at Mont- 
 pellier where St. Roch was born in 1295. I used the town 
 home-made soap to wash; slept under its blankets; groped 
 around with its candles; and rambled through its old botan- 
 ical garden, library, cathedral, promenades and famous 
 University with which is associated the name of Petrarch the 
 poet and Rabelais the satirist. The city is now chiefly known 
 for wine and silk. The church fathers here must have drunk 
 much of the Montpellier wine when they wrote the history of 
 St. Roch, and swapped silk for yarn in the following story 
 they spun out. 
 
 St. Roch was born in 1295 in answer to the prayers of his 
 aged father and mother. He had a birthmark of a red cross 
 on his body which neighboring palmists, clairvoyants and 
 fortune-tellers solemnly declared to be a sign that he was 
 sent from above as a special friend of God for work below 
 to man. His parents died when he was twenty and left him 
 a good estate, but he left it to the poor, and disguised as a 
 pilgrim roamed to Rome. 
 
 The plague of Black Death was stalking rough shod 
 through Italy and St. Roch met him face to face at Aqua- 
 pendente in Tuscany. All he had to do was to show his birth- 
 mark or make the sign of the cross and the plague vanished. 
 At Cesna and Rome he did the same stunt. At Cesna his mere 
 
ON THE WARPATH 41 
 
 appearance made the Black Death turn white and skip out 
 with a ''plague take if At Rome his single prayer was 
 stronger than the pestilence. He spoke, and like the crow 
 of rooster at dawn that drives ghosts away, his prayer put 
 Disease to flight. At Piacenza the plague gave him a body 
 blow that laid him out. Instead of securing man's aid in the 
 city hospital, he dragged himself to a forest. Parched with 
 thirst, he called for water, and spring water sprang out of 
 a barren rock. Hungry and raving for food, with no Elijah 
 ravens near, he was fed by a nobleman's dog which came 
 daily and shared its biscuits with him. The dog seemed 
 hungry all the time and grew thin, to the wonder and worri- 
 ment of his master. One day the master followed Rover and 
 caught him carrying the biscuit to St. Roch, who lay sleep- 
 ing peacefully as the babes in the wood. The bark of the 
 dog, or bark falling from the trees, awakened him. History 
 does not record whether he thanked the Lord, the dog or the 
 master for his daily bread, but he immediately preached to 
 the nobleman, telling him he was vain, selfish and bad, and 
 so got by with it that the rich man hit the trail — to the 
 house — and with heaven-given denial and zeal gave up the 
 frivolities and frailties of life and like St. Roch became a 
 servant of all, an example of humble sacrifice. 
 
 St. Roch was cured. After seven years' absence he went 
 to his home town Montpellier, was arrested as a spy and 
 thrown in jail by his uncle who did not recognize him be- 
 cause of his disguise, poverty and emaciation. He was im- 
 prisoned five years. A word of ''who's who" would have 
 let him out, but he wasn't happy unless miserable. At last 
 the jailer Death was about to release him. He asked for the 
 last sacrament of his church, and as the priest entered his 
 cell a big burst of light flashed and lit up the prison and so 
 dazed the priest that he ran to the governor and told him 
 of the miracle. The governor was from Missouri with a 
 "show me," believing that it was either a magician's trick 
 or that he had switched on a Mazda globe of some spirit 
 circuit. 
 
 We are gravely told that just before St. Roch died he 
 made a bargain with heaven that whenever any plague- 
 
42 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 stricken man or metropolis invoked his saintly aid, healing 
 would follow. Though he died his influence lived. Miracles 
 at once followed. The body was taken to church St. Firmin 
 in Montpellier. Now the uncle heard the name St. Roch and 
 seeing a similarity to his own, made inquiry. The old grand- 
 mother suddenly happened to remember her grandson who 
 had gone away on a pilgrimage years ago. Especially clear 
 was her remembrance of the red cross birthmark. The poor 
 dead body was uncovered, the sacred cross observed and so 
 St. Roch's personal identity was established bej^ond all cavil 
 or sceptical doubt. All was well and ended well like the last 
 act of a melodrama or reel of movie. The old governor 
 was sorry for his shabby treatment of his sainted nephew and 
 following the example of the faithful, implored the dead 
 nephew 's intercession. 
 
 However like a fairy story this tale sounds, it was fact 
 enough to the credulous fanatics to invest St. Roch with 
 sainthood. In 1328 his uncle built him a memorial church 
 where the bones lay buried. Pilgrims came to venerate, 
 miracles were performed and a church day feast was fixed on 
 August 16th at the end of the sixteenth century. Later the 
 city council built a chapel in his honor, and when in 1640 the 
 plague broke out in the city, the city fathers vowed him a 
 chapel in St. Peter's, promising to visit it once a year. Dur- 
 ing the plague of 1414 the trusty aldermen of Constance 
 drummed up a procession, carried St. Roch's statue through 
 the streets imploring the saint to save them, and he did. 
 Then it was that some of the fathers, who should have been 
 shot, canonized him. 
 
 From then to now the fame of St. Roch, a chest protector 
 and game preserver, has spread like wildfire over the world. 
 Temples, statues and altars are built to his memory in Eu- 
 rope, and the reader may recall the St. Roch church of Paris 
 built in 1580. Many societies bear his name and are under 
 his patronage, and the writer couldn't print this book if he 
 were to enumerate all the miracles said to have followed his 
 life. I trust the reader will pardon my lengthy relation of 
 this legend. This shrine to a Mediaeval saint has its Twen- 
 tieth Century pilgrims here in New Orleans and puts its dev- 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 43 
 
 otees in the list of the ignorant, superstitions and grafting 
 classes of Italy, Spain, Mexico, Central and South America. 
 This is all out of place in the TJ. S. A. St. Roch's remains 
 were removed to Venice in 1385 where they remain today un- 
 less the Boche has bombed them. 
 
 New Orleans had the plague of yellow fever once upon a 
 time. Father Thevis invoked the aid of St. Roch, promising 
 that if his flock was spared he would build him a chapel. 
 The death angel passed by. Though thousands died from the 
 yellow plague from 1866 to 1868 in the vicinity, none of his 
 flock was touched. After returning from Europe he built 
 the chapel with niches on the wall for his faithful members, 
 located his own grave at the foot of the altar, hung up an 
 old bell in the belfry, and was ready to ring the changes on 
 the life, death and marvellously, miraculous influence of St. 
 Roch on plagues of all sorts. Here endeth the true history 
 of a false profit. Many you and I be mercifully forgiven for 
 the waste of time spent in writing and reading about it. 
 True religion suffers more from those who misunderstand 
 it than from those who oppose it. Superstition makes per- 
 verts, not converts. 
 
 In the cemetery there is a sun-dial which marks death, in 
 the midst of life, of many whose ''sun is gone down while it 
 was yet day." The town clock in this city of the dead is 
 fittingly a sun-dial. During the light of day may it realize 
 the motto of the old sun-dial near Venice, ''Horas non numero 
 nisi Serenas." — *'I count only the hours that ar« serene." 
 What sweeter sentiment for the sleepers beneath ! For them 
 time has given way to eternity, and for earth ^s darkness there 
 is no night there, 
 
 A COOK'S TOUR 
 
 EW Orleans is noted for its Epicurean haunts. Earth- 
 ly gastronomy and not heavenly astronomy is the 
 science most studied in its ''courses." Canal street 
 is the boundary line between the American and Eu- 
 ropean quarter. In the former are some of the finest and 
 
44 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 largest cafes I have eaten in in the U. S., and in the latter some 
 as quaint and toothsome as any found in the old world. You 
 should make a Cook's tour to the restaurants and cafes. 
 What is a cook here? Let Latin Horace and Petronius sing 
 the praises of Roman feasts and the glory of cooks and wealth 
 of vine and viands, but I will tell you of a real New Orleans 
 atmosphere dinner of today in the French quarter. It was 
 not Antoine's, Lausanne's or Kolb's, but an old *'Gem*' of a 
 place. 
 
 It had been an eating resort for many years, and the 
 building, balcony, stairs and rooms were worm and time- 
 eaten. There was a distinctive garlic atmosphere from the 
 kitchen. The celebrated French drip coffee had dripped all 
 over the ragged tablecloths. Soup looked as if it had been 
 seasoned by falling plaster. The oysters might have been 
 rolled in crackers on the floor. The woodwork had wine and 
 weather stains. The sawdust was an inch deep on the floor 
 like a circus cage, and here the wild animals were being fed. 
 Flies, smoke and expectoration urged us to climb the rickety 
 stairs to a room above. We were hungry for food, not art, 
 came to eat and not see, so we closed our eyes and opened 
 our mouths. Everything was delicious and inviting except 
 the sign on the wall which read that nothing was served for 
 less than $1.50 each. An old cat watched us from the balcony 
 and evidently belonged to the place. She kept some distance 
 from the table and watched us to learn whether we compli- 
 mented the food or called it ratty. The antique china and 
 silver service had served their day and long since should have 
 decorated the windows of a curio shop„ It was old with 
 cracks, nicks and dents. What jokes were cracked over 
 them? What sweet stories had the ears of the sugar-bowl lis- 
 tened to? With what wide astonishment had the mouth of the 
 pitcher gasped at off-color stories? What hands had caressed 
 the neck of vinegar and oil-bottle? What cutting remarks 
 and thrusts the knives and forks suggested! What spooning 
 of callow couples the spoons had witnessed! The old table 
 was superannuated and shaky on its pins, and the chairs had 
 felt so many rounds of pleasure that they were nearly all 
 in with broken backs, twisted feet and bow-legs. The old 
 
CLIFF-DWELLING 
 
 ARIZONA 
 
DESERT CACTUS, CAMEL OF PLANTS 
 
 ARIZONA 
 
ON THE WARPATH 45 
 
 lamps had looked down on eyes of beauty whose light had 
 been shut out by death, and the walls echoed to steps that 
 led down to the grave. 
 
 Yet one wearies of specialties, side-dishes, shrimps, oysters 
 and their endless waits. We were often glad to go to a place 
 of quick eats where there was everything and ready at once, 
 and one could just grab a tray and load it with goodies. The 
 average Northerner has less time and inclination than a 
 Southerner to sit around and spend two hours and two dollars 
 for a meal. 
 
 To the cooks of this Crescent city we may apply the words 
 of Ben Jonson's masque of '' Neptune's Triumph"; 
 
 '*A master-cook! why, he's the man of men, 
 For a professor! he designs, he draws. 
 He paints, he carves, he builds, he fortifies, 
 Makes citadels of curious fowl and fish, 
 Some he dry-ditches, some moats round with broths, 
 Mounts narrow-bones; cuts fifty-angled custards; 
 Rears bulwark pies; and, for his outer works, 
 He raiseth ramparts of immortal crust, 
 . And teacheth all the tactics of one dinner. 
 What ranks, what files, to put the dishes in, 
 The whole art military! Then he knows 
 The influence of the stars upon his meats; 
 And all their seasons, tempers, qualities. 
 And so to fit his relishes and sauces ! 
 He has Nature in a pot, 'bove all the chemists, 
 Or bare-breeched brethren of the Rosy-Cross! 
 He is an architect, an inginer, 
 A soldier, a physician, a philosopher, 
 A general mathematician ! ' ' 
 
 Yes, this is a great eating city, but too many of the peo- 
 ple become mere Lotus-eaters. 
 
 The streets in the French Quarter had all been dug up like 
 trenches to lay pipes for sewer and gas, and it made the car 
 passengers and pedestrians long for gas-masks. 
 
 The old St. Louis Cathedral looked inside and out as if 
 it had been bombarded by Germans. A sign outside the door 
 
46 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 read, ** Danger — Keep Out." This was the first time I had 
 seen a church so candid in its admonitions. However, I took 
 a chance and entered. The only procession was of negroes 
 wheeling barrels of dirt from excavations made to strengthen 
 the cypress wood supports which are dry-rotted with the 
 years. No rock foundation had ever been used. The back 
 chapel was open for a funeral and I watched the cortege. 
 The people were all in mourning — even their faces — for it 
 was a colored funeral. Their grief was as sincere as if their 
 skin had been white. 
 
 The French market is always an object of interest with 
 its dingy stalls, dogs, dirt, cobwebs, spiders and poverty. It 
 made a good study for an artist who stood on an opposite 
 street corner with an admiring mob of tattered urchins, old 
 men and women critics about him who almost wiped the paint 
 off his canvas with their inquisitive noses, as if to see whether 
 he had painted the odors of the place. This scene and the 
 artist's sketch of an old man selling fruit was as picturesque 
 as anything in the Paris Latin Quarter. 
 
 The city's schools were closed on account of lack of fuel, 
 yet the cafes ran full tilt — an example of how people make 
 sacrifices for what they like best. Here it was pleasure in- 
 stead of pedagogy. 
 
 Jack Frost was one of the winter visitors and had dropped 
 in and given his fingers a cold snap in the face of the city 
 that made its nose blue. On curbs and crossings there were 
 little bonfires where newsboys, motormen and workmen 
 huddled to keep warm. Pedestrians without overcoats, and 
 with hands in their pockets, shrunken and shrivelled, hustled 
 along on the sunny side of the street. In doors the people 
 hugged gas-stoves and grates, and vdth chattering teeth com- 
 plained of the cold. 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 47 
 
 EVIL SPIRITS 
 
 FTER a Sunday visit to a Jesuit, Roman Catholic and 
 Baptist church we felt the need of some real spirit- 
 ual comfort and visited the old Absinthe Plouse. It 
 was Sunday and closed. A little dog stood by the 
 partly opened back door. Instead of barking at us, he 
 beckoned us in with his friendly wagging tail. We followed. 
 The proprietor was surprised but pleased to accommodate 
 visitors and showed us around this refuge rendezvous of the 
 picturesque Bordeaux blacksmith, pirate, smuggler and slave 
 trader, Jean Lafitte, the bold, bad buccaneer who loved beau- 
 ty, booze and blood and had barrels of money to spend for 
 it. His history fills volumes. He was a moral misfit, threw 
 his enemies and friends into fits, and the most fitting resume 
 of his pitiful career are Byron's lines on the Corsair: 
 
 **He left a corsair's name to other times, 
 Linked with one virtue and a thousand crimes." 
 
 Standing at the little old marble bar we drank a befitting 
 toast to his memory in absinthe. 
 
 Absinthe is a compound of alcohol, wormwood, sugar and 
 chlorophyll ingredients which suggest the old pirate's make- 
 up. ''Look not upon the absinthe when it is green," yet I 
 have tasted it here and in Paris, though never sufficiently to 
 get the full benefit of excitation, hallucination, terrifying 
 dreams, delirium and idiocy. 
 
 "We left these spirits to call on those of the Haunted House 
 near by. It was nailed up, so I whistled up the front door 
 keyhole, looked in the windows, but couldn't see or hear 
 ghosts. It was afternoon and a little early — ^they were prob- 
 ably off haunting some other house. Hark to the blood-curdl- 
 ing tale of this haunted mansion! From the time when 
 Marquis de Lafayette and Napoleon's brother had been enter- 
 tained as guests, it fell to the hell of a chamber of horrors 
 such as the weird imagination of Poe loved to describe and 
 Cable has pictured in his stories. The house later caught 
 
48 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 fire and the neighbors broke in to extinguish it. They found 
 an upper room filled with tools of torture reminiscent of the 
 Inquisition and Niirnburg. Colored slaves were found muti- 
 lated, held in sharp-spiked iron bauds and chained to the 
 wall. The mad mob wrecked the house and the murderer's 
 merry widow, Mme, Lalaurie, skipped to France where she 
 expiated her sins in a life of charity which was ended by 
 death in a wild boar hunt. 
 
 If one has a good imagination or an ear attuned to ghost 
 stories, he may come here at some witching hour of the night 
 and hear steps, whispers, groans and the sound of clanking 
 chains. Alas, poor ghost ! Even though the ghost is poor 
 and ashamed to appear, it has been a rich ad for the house, 
 for tourists by thousands have come here and paid good 
 money to guides to see and feel the horrible. Unlike haunted 
 houses which people try to avoid, this draws the curious. 
 But no withered, hollow-eyed, wild-attired, rare or condensed 
 spook has yet been seen. Surely if there was one I would 
 have seen or heard him, or some kind of a one after the 
 absinthe I drank. The only clank was that of a fruit-cart, 
 the only shadow my own on the sidewalk, the only groan 
 the sigh of my disappointment. Lincoln killed slavery so 
 dead that, unlike Banquo's ghost, it will **down^' and never 
 have a ghost of a chance in New Orleans or on this continent 
 again. 
 
 During our stay in New Orleans the generous citizens 
 were sending relief ships to Guatemala, whose capital had 
 just been overturned by earthquake. Two years before I had 
 sailed from New Orleans for Guatemala and had spent two 
 weeks in the old capital that had been leveled to the ground. 
 I was sincerely sorry for the poor natives who lost their lives, 
 their houses and property. I was sorrier still that the quake 
 had not shaken down the despot ruler and dictator, Cabrera. 
 Let us believe with Dickens' Nell, *'It is not in this world that 
 heaven's justice ends," and that some time and somewhere 
 this crafty, cruel, Cabrera, famed and infamous for cruelty, 
 coercion, cupidity and carnality, will get his just deserts. 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 49 
 
 ECHOES FROM ECUADOR 
 
 |y passport to Ecuador was confiscated because of my 
 book on Mexico. Did the government think I would 
 tell the truth about Ecuador on my return? Was 
 there a skeleton in her political closet which Wash- 
 ington feared I might discover, drag out and rattle its bones? 
 Possibly the fact that I was going to a country that had been 
 written up by Baron von Humboldt was sufficient evidence to 
 the Administration that I was pro-German. I tremble when 
 I think of the close call I had at the Department of Justice 
 in New Orleans, for if I had been searched they would have 
 found a Faber pencil made in German}^ and a chunk of Ger- 
 man sweet chocolate. Undoubtedly the punishment for this 
 would have spirited me away or interned me till the close of 
 the war. 
 
 If the U. S. government dislikes, my observations on Latin- 
 America and frank criticism of the diplomuts she sent there, 
 it might easily have gotten rid of me by allowing me to go to 
 Ecuador, that bourne whence frequently no traveler returns. 
 If you are not done for with yellow fever, bubonic plague, lep- 
 rosy, typhoid, dysentery, the multude of dirt diseases which 
 Ecuador is heir to, or the asphyxiating natural odor of the na- 
 tives, an obliging earthquake is likely to topple a church roof 
 on your head, or one of the six punctual volcanoes will fume 
 and choke you. Should you live to enter the interior of the 
 country, Indians have a pleasant game of shooting you full of 
 poison arrows or chopping off your head. In addition there 
 are the usual revolutions, not of the earth around the sun, 
 but of bullets through the air daily from ten to two, and the 
 visitor may be the innocent target. If the traveler is a senti- 
 mental journeyer like Sterne, it is said to be as difficult for 
 him to break away from the seductive senoritas as it was for 
 Ulysses to get away from Calypso and the sirens. Then, too, 
 if you have a trifling difference of opinion in religious or 
 political matters, you are either put up against an adobe wall 
 for target practice, thrown in jail to die of vermin and star- 
 vation, or made to receive the most popular expression of dis- 
 
50 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 approval — which is to strip you, tie ropes to your ankles, 
 drag you for hours through the rough cobbled streets, hack 
 you to pieces with machetes and take your head home as a 
 souvenir to adorn the centre-table or mantlepiece. This 
 happened to an ex-president some years ago. Should you 
 be fortunate enough to escape all this, there remains official 
 robbery by the customs, or brigand assault on street. Of 
 course you may be drowned by the torrential rains or brushed 
 off a burro's back on some American precipice. Quien sabe? 
 
 In spite of the above inconveniences of travel in Ecuador, 
 I was willing to risk it in order to see the beautiful mountains 
 and tropical scenery of the Andes, to study the custom of the 
 native Indians and sail again on the Pacific. 
 
 WHY TRAVEL? 
 
 ^ 
 
 A SPECIAL agent of the U. S. government asked me 
 why I left my home town every year. To oblige 
 him and others who are self-centered and satisfied, 
 stuck in a rut, amazed and suspicious if a man 
 leaves his front yard for an hour or two, I will give a few 
 of my reasons. 
 
 This world was made to be seen. Often there is no place 
 like away from home. There are other main streets and ave- 
 nues, other parks and lakes, other libraries and galleries, 
 other social, Christian and patriotic people. One needs rest 
 and recreation, change of clothes, food, drink, climate and 
 ideas. A man grows tired of himself, of everyone and every- 
 thing else. A vacation of three or six months is absolutely 
 necessary for him to live with himself or with any one else 
 the rest of the year. 
 
 Maupassant grew so tired of seeing the Eiffel tower that 
 he packed up and left Paris. If he had lived in Minneapolis 
 I wonder how long our Court House tower would have held 
 him? 
 
 The stay-at-home has the same streets, stores, dress, faces, 
 food, drink, cars, offices, business, knavery, jokes, clubs, fur- 
 
ON THE WARPATH 51 
 
 niture, formality, books, sermons, thoughts, deeds, pleasures, 
 
 newspapers, extras and idiotorials. This monotony makes one 
 
 desperate. You are really a prisoner in a walled city; your 
 home walls are a jail in which you stumble and clank around 
 with the self-made chains of habit. One might as well be in 
 Stillwater prison. It would be a change of place and em- 
 ployment and of some real enjoyment to get away from 
 criminals at large on the street. 
 
 I travel to be a citizen of the world, not just of Minne- 
 apolis, want to get new views of life and see planes, not 
 mere points of truth. To sail on the sea or climb a mountain 
 and learn that God's sun does not rise or set just in your 
 back yard, is a needed lesson. Some people live like a horse 
 in a treadmill. Their city or state circuit is the limit of their 
 life. They travel no more than a mussel shell on an ocean 
 pier or a vine around a garden trellis. They stay and stand 
 in one place so long that I am surprised their feet have not 
 taken root and sprouted. 
 
 One wearies of the English language and the jargon of a 
 South Sea savage is a relief. The same style of dress and 
 architecture is tiresome. For a change let's have palms and 
 leaves instead of telephone poles and wires.; trudging oxen 
 and not terrifying autos — let's visit lands where men do up 
 their hair like women, or where men wear skirts and women 
 wear pants. What a delightful change if for one day our 
 women wore their hair loose and flowing down their shoulders, 
 and men walked about with their shirt tails outside. I would 
 rather know the four corners of the globe than the four cor- 
 ners of a prison room or office, or the seven corners of a city. 
 
 Travel broadens, deepens, widens and gives one exalted 
 ideas of God and sympathetic feelings towards man. You 
 can't know the world by simply reading a book in the morn- 
 ing and a paper or magazine at night. Travel has had var- 
 ious motives — discontent, curiosity, crusades, commerce, con- 
 quest, science, pleasure, exploration, adventure. It costs 
 money, time, patience and heroism. 
 
 If a man is economical he can travel and get much for 
 little. Man was made with legs to walk, eyes to see and ears 
 
52 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 to hear. There is no fool so foolish, no bigot so bigoted, as 
 the man who has never been anywhere, seen anything or any- 
 body except in his own town. 
 
 Emerson calls traveling a fool's paradise, yet that is pre- 
 ferable to the lunatic stay-at-home and stick-in-the-mud with 
 his egotism and exclusiveness. The man who carries a good 
 pair of eyes and ears as well as a valise and letter of credit, 
 doesn't go on a fool's errand. 
 
 In his *' Sentimental Journey" Sterne gives a list of 
 travelers — idle, inquisitive, lying, proud, vain, splenetic, delin- 
 quent and felonious ; travelers of necessity ; unfortunate, in- 
 nocent, simple and sentimental travelers. In addition, he 
 says some travel because of infirmit}^ of body, imbecility of 
 mind and inevitable necessity. On sober reflection I refuse 
 to classify myself, though the reader may already have 
 done it. 
 
 Climate is a good reason for leaving Minneapolis in Jan- 
 uary and February, especially if your coal-bin is low. Of 
 course, travel movies have their value, but too often there is 
 too much difference between the price of admission and what 
 you come away with. Alack the day when the cinema crowds 
 out travel as it has literature, drama and art. At best, it is 
 a poor substitute for them. 
 
 Go and see, hear and think, write and talk from what you 
 personally know. Be a voice and not an echo, an original 
 and not a copy, a pioneer and not a follower. Use your own 
 gray matter as the Creator intended when he gave it to you. 
 Be from Missouri, demand ocular proof; be your own kodak, 
 negative and graphophone record ; see for yourself and judge 
 apart from any dictated report of press agents of the Creel 
 stamp. 
 
 Secretary McAdoo seeks to discourage travel by raising 
 rates, regarding it as a luxury in war time. Travel is a 
 necessity. No man can thrill with true patriotism who does 
 not travel and contrast other countries with his own, and 
 compare and constructively criticize for its benefit. What 
 fair-minded man doubts that needed and helpful information 
 would have been given the government if, in the early part 
 of the war, Colonel Roosevelt and Major General Wood had 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 53 
 
 been officially permitted to go to France, remain there and 
 cable Washington the true state of affairs and what was 
 most imperatively needed to defeat the enemy in the best 
 and quickest manner. 
 
 Keep on the move, action is life, rest is death. Everything 
 that is anything moves. Earth, air, water and planets travel. 
 Get a move on you until Death stops you, and then be ready to 
 begin again and never stop. To spend money in travel is to be 
 rich in memory and ideas, and is far better than to put it in a 
 savings bank for some one to fight over when you are dead. 
 
 OLD AND NEW ORLEANS 
 
 NEW ORLEANS spells hospitality and a good time. 
 This suggests my entertaining friend, not Billy Rice of 
 minstrel fame, but William Tietjen, the rice man, 
 who knows oryza sativa (rice) from its native home 
 in Asia to Louisiana; recognizes the twenty species of this 
 grass family; is familiar with its growth in water and its 
 two centuries residence in South Carolina ; knows it as Paddy 
 in the husk, wine in Japan, cakes, soup and pudding in hotels, 
 and bridal rice showers in one of which he was not long ago 
 caught with the woman who understands how to please her 
 husband and his friends. Mr. Tietjen, with his jovial face and 
 Santa Clans shape, reminds me of the little image of the God 
 of Plenty I saw in Nikko, eTapan, carrying two sacks of rice 
 on his shoulders. He entertained us roj^ally at his office, 
 home, cafe and theatre. 
 
 The old time Southerners are gone. They did not have 
 five-reel thriller movies, horse races, prizefights and carnivals, 
 but they did have some simple pleasures with which their 
 simple natures were satisfied — pastimes that beguiled the 
 worn and weary hours. Public executions and hangings were 
 quite the rage then ; pirates were hung on the Square for deco- 
 ration; the heads of negroes were stuck on pikes at the city 
 gates. At the Calaboza there were whipping-posts and hot 
 irons with which the fleur de lis was burned on culprit's 
 
54 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 shoulders. The only hangings I saw in New Orleans were of 
 idlers on the corners. Then the old Plaza was the centre of 
 social and commercial life, military fete and the fate of 
 criminals who were shot, nailed alive in their coffins or slow- 
 ly sawn in half. The attractions were sometimes varied by 
 hanging women on the gallows and breaking men on the 
 wheel. 
 
 In those days there were no Sunday jazz bands or vaude- 
 ville circuits, but in Congo Square in the open air there were 
 dancing carnivals with half-naked girls and real Voudou 
 dances at Ponchartrain, of the old tom-tom fiddle and gourd 
 drum variet}^, where they danced themselves crazy and fell 
 into a frothy fit. 
 
 What modern social balls can compare with the Indian 
 balls where saffron sirens with sweet look and voice led the 
 dance through love's labyrinth of jealousy! Now there is 
 horse racing and private and polite gambling — then there was 
 wide open faro and roulette, and later the Louisiana lottery. 
 
 Women did not possess the beauty of face and figure char- 
 acteristic of modern New Orleans belles, but their society 
 was very select, in fact they were ''selected" from hospitals 
 and correction homes. Later came a shipment of "casket 
 girls," poor girls sent over from Paris by the king as wives. 
 They brought their trousseau in a chest of clothes. This 
 seems very primitive to us now, yet today men pick wives 
 no better than these, and some they choose do not wear clothes 
 enough for a shroud in a coffin. 
 
 The city was once a sink or swamp filled with deported 
 galley slaves, trappers, miners, gold-hunters and soldiers 
 whose profession was dice, duelling, idleness and gambling. 
 Today it is the big, beautiful, commercial centre of the South. 
 Once there w^as fever, filth and filibusters, but these things 
 are no longer in fashion. New Orleans now bm^s white rice, 
 cotton and sugar — in early days she bought black slaves from 
 San Domingo and Guinea. 
 
 Charles Lamb liked old things— he would have enjoyed the 
 old part of town with its bizarre balconies, mountain-peaked 
 roofs, hill-shaped sheds, begrimed, battered stairways, open 
 flowery courts, shady portieres, quaint doorways and ram- 
 
ON THE WARPATH 55 
 
 shackle and rickety rows of houses marshalled on both sides 
 of the streets like awkward squads of soldiers. In the quiet 
 streets one looks in doorways where the natives are dozing 
 away life's afternoon and day. The names of the streets are 
 called by saints and sinners after the Madonna, a mother or 
 mistress. The visitor often calls them hard names because he 
 cannot pronounce them. 
 
 It is significant that my passport was taken up here on ac- 
 count of my book. What more could one expect in New 
 Orlenas when he recalls that here, in a public square, long 
 ago, a writer's books were brought in by negroes and burned 
 for containing the following wicked and treasonable philoso- 
 phy, '' Liberty is the mother of commerce and population. 
 Without liberty there are but few virtues." 
 
 This city was founded in 1718 by Bienville. In 1724 the 
 governor published a Black Code one of whose first provi- 
 sions drove out the Jews from Louisiana and denied any be- 
 lief that was not Roman Catholic. Any negro whose master 
 was not a member of this church could be confiscated. Thus 
 chains were put on the blacks while spiritual fetters were 
 fastened on the mind. However, the city is very free and 
 easy after such strict rules in the beginning. The natives are 
 listless, lazy lovers of pleasure. In these streets are found 
 beautiful and bewitching beauties, coquettish Creole girls 
 whose baby years were cuddled and cradled in sentimental 
 songs such as, ''I love you as a little pig loves the mud." 
 
 History repeats itself. Germany today is striving to enslave 
 the world. The eternal fight still goes on for physical, mental 
 and religious freedom. Here in 1789 came Father Antonio 
 from murderous Madrid, as commissary of the Holy Inquisi- 
 tion, demanding that troops should be placed at his disposal 
 whenever he wanted them to arrest the heretics; that is, those 
 who dared to think for themselves. One night when the Rev- 
 erend Sir had not sent for them, they appeared, grabbed him, 
 hustled him to the levee, put him aboard a vessel sailing for 
 Spain, as an undesirable citizen, and bade him '^bon voyage." 
 
56 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 MOSS-COVERED 
 
 LL ABOARD for tlie Sunset Route to the land of the 
 sunset in the spirit of Odysseus. 
 
 ''My purpose holds 
 To sail beyond the sunset and the baths 
 Of all the western stars," 
 
 "We rattled through Evangeline's land, a good location for 
 the heroine of a Longfellow poem. Evangeline is a sad poem 
 until you hear a husky American schoolboy attempting to de- 
 claim it, parse its sentences and understand its tender senti- 
 ment. Across this Acadian land we bowled by Evangeline 
 oaks, fields of sugar-cane, cotton and rice, and by miles of 
 swamps full of old cypress trees covered with moss. 
 
 Dickens writes, ''A dainty plant is the ivy green." What 
 would he say of the Spanish moss, gray and graceful, airy and 
 fairy, like low trailing clouds caught in the treetops? The 
 trees look like hooded nuns, bearded pirates, or ]ike bushes 
 covered with grass of a subsiding stream. The moss resembles 
 the tatters of a robe of fog or mist. It garlands and drapes 
 the bare limbs of native and live oak trees. These moss-covered 
 forests would make an excellent setting for Dante's "gloomy 
 wood." Here one would not be surprised to meet Monsieur 
 Melancholy Jacques. What a good place in which to read the 
 story of Young Goodman Brown in Hawthorne's ''Mosses 
 from an Old Manse." I hardly think Queen Mab would hold 
 her revels here. It is more fitting for some witch with her 
 hobgoblin band. 
 
 Moss is creepy and crepey. It gathers on barns, buckets 
 and brains, looking well everywhere except on the last with 
 its moss-covered theories of education, politics and religion. 
 Moss drifts like the clouds on the cypress treetops ; it festoons 
 ash, elm and sweet gum with gray drapery; climbs from 
 the swamp and marsh to the bank and highland; gropes 
 in the gloom of cypress groves ; swings in the wind like a 
 fairy, and shades you like a big umbrella. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 57 
 
 Living moss is of a green gray color. One of its tender 
 threads blown to another tree will multiply into tangled skeins 
 on which grow pink little flowers. Like the wind, it seems to 
 come and go of its own sweet will. Big bunches of wasp-net 
 colored moss can grow to feathery length of thirty feet, and I 
 have heard of live oak trees that carried in the arms of their 
 ponderous branches as much as twenty-five tons of green 
 moss. The trees appear to grow long mossy whiskers, and 
 their limbs are twisted and shrunken as if they had contracted 
 malaria and rheumatism from standing in the water. 
 
 Spanish moss has been compared to the waving plumes of 
 a hundred hearses, and it produces a most lugubrious land- 
 scape. When the tree dies the moss dies and drapes itself in 
 black. Science tells us that moss is a sign of life ; that it does 
 not feed as a parasite on the tree but on the air, taking up the 
 poisons of the dying vegetation, purifying the air of malaria 
 and making it salubrious and healthful.. It thus becomes a 
 banner of health and salvation to the poor swamp inhabitant. 
 
 Moss is in the proverb of the rolling stone, and in the song 
 of the bucket in the well. We have it in our mattresses and 
 pillows by night and in our puddings by day. Why is it called 
 Spanish moss? Probably after some Castilian discoverer who 
 had a long gray beard, or because some stuffing fell out of 
 a sky-mattress and landed on top of a castle in Spain. 
 
 Science wanders through a volume to inform us in a volum- 
 inous but not luminous manner of the Moss family. It is 
 called "Tillandesia Neneoides" and is said to be a veritable 
 ''arcanum naturae." Arcanum is right. Its real nature is 
 hidden. To me, it looks like a fantastic festoon or dismal 
 drapery of Nature for the fete of some dancing dwarf. Poe's 
 ''ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir" must border these Span- 
 ish moss forests. 
 
58 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 LOUISIANA 
 
 E had a royal time in Louisiana, for the state is named 
 after Louis XIV. It is naturally proud and Parisian 
 in many ways. Mississippi is its reigning mistress 
 for 600 miles. She favors the Greek, having a large 
 Delta below New Orleans, and believes in the culture of agri- 
 culture, for the soil is rich in rice, sugar and cotton. The state 
 is thinly timbered. There is plenty of iron ore, sulphur and 
 rock salt. The chief industries are easily known from walking 
 delegates on the streets who represent the tobacco warehouses 
 and distilleries. 
 
 The state is wet with swamps and liquor. The topography 
 is mostly on the level, whether the gamblers are or not. Lou- 
 isiana basks in the smile of the sun o'erhead and the Democratic 
 administration at Washington. The soil is black and rich, 
 judged from what one sees on many colored faces. There is 
 sulphur sufficient for all sorts of U. S. matches ; clay for pipes, 
 pots and progeny; petroleum to burn, rock salt in abundance, 
 but not much pepper. The forests contain, pine, cypress, live 
 oak, willow, cottonwood, ash, sweet gum, black walnut, hickory, 
 locust and wood enough for a fleet of aeroplanes and ships. 
 
 Louisiana is next to Florida, not geographically but ichthy- 
 ologically speaking, in shrimp, oysters, trout, catfish, and alliga- 
 tors. In agriculture the sun, soil and showers urge produc- 
 tion. The manufactures are refining sugar and molasses, cot- 
 ton-seed oil and cake, and cleaning and polishing rice. Educa- 
 tion is secular and sacred, and the color line separates the 
 schools for blacks and whites. In fact, the state runs to color, 
 for it has the Eed river, Vermilion county and Baton Rouge. 
 There are charitable institutions for deaf, blind and dumb, 
 and penal ones whose convicts are employed on public works. 
 The early French population has many descendants, and a sixth 
 part of the inhabitants are Negroes. The government has but 
 one variety — Democratic. The history is a long and interesting 
 story of Spanish and French days, the War of 1812, the Or- 
 dinance of Secession, Capture of the Union Forces, Recon- 
 struction, lottery and yellow fever. To get into Louisiana his- 
 tory is like getting lost in a cypress swamp. 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 59 
 
 I made a Louisiana purchase of food and drink along the 
 route, but the one that will interest you most is the ** Louisi- 
 ana Purchase'* of a million square miles. That was a good 
 sum in addition when we added the Purchase to the original 
 thirteen colonies, north to British America, all of the United 
 States west of the Mississippi river except Texas and Cali- 
 fornia, and what we obtained from Mexico by treaty and pur- 
 chase. We bought this in 1803 from France for about $15,000,- 
 000 and assumed the French spoliation claims, which, I think, 
 were never paid. Louisiana was admitted to the LTnion in 
 1812. At New Orleans General Jackson won a big naval vic- 
 tory over the British forces in 1815. In the Civil War more 
 than 100 battles were fought on her soil. Louis and Clark 
 were sent out by President Jefferson in 1804 and 1806 to make 
 their famous exploring expedition through the Louisiana 
 Purchase, with its sandbars, its haunts of romance and alli- 
 gators. 
 
 Like a fly, our train buzzed through the ** Sugar BowP' of 
 the state. Sugar has flies, so here white sugar had many blacks 
 around it. After crossing the ferry, we rode on a part of the 
 rim of this sugar bowl for a hundred miles. We dipped into 
 it. Looking up to the skyline, we saw many sugar mills with 
 tall, smoking chimneys, and here and there rich Southern 
 planters' mansions, white, inviting, shaded by magnolia trees, 
 vines and flowers, and built so as to see the bayous. The coun- 
 try was flat as a negro's foot. There were small towns with 
 one street and store, and rows of black people and white- 
 washed houses ; all the villages were taking an afternoon nap. 
 Along the road was seen an occasional auto, old wagon, and 
 postoffice store where citizens came for groceries and war news. 
 Cotton was piled up at the stations, and men stood around 
 with hands in their pockets watching the train go by. They 
 were too lazy to wave to us. There were little farms, with 
 chickens and pigs. Everything appeared more comical than 
 commercial. 
 
60 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 TROUBLES 
 
 T""""^ STANDS for Texas and trouble. We entered the big 
 state where they raise mules, murder Mexicans, and 
 select drivers for the Democratic donkey. The word 
 ''Texas" means ''friends," and was the name given to 
 the Indians by the Spaniards, but nothing but fighting has hap- 
 pened ever since. It is a state of grazing cattle and grazing 
 bullets, Indian riots, rebellions and massacres. The rape of 
 the Sabines occurs in Roman history — here there was a row be- 
 tween the United States and Spain concerning a land named 
 Sabine and the Rio Grande river. However, we dropped clubs 
 and shook hands. In 1830 Mexico invited Americans to settle, 
 and 20,000 came. Texas was a part of Coahuila, Mexico, and 
 naturally objected to Mexico's high-handed outrages of mili- 
 tary rule, closing of ports, and anti-slavery and anti-coloniza- 
 tion laws. Texas was fighting mad, and we sent General 
 Austin with the request that Texas be made one of the states 
 of the Mexican Union. Mexico's reply was to throAV our 
 general into jail, whereupon we sent troops. In 1835 Texas 
 uprose, drove out the Mexicans and proclaimed a republic. 
 
 Mexico's president, Santa Ana, cruelly murdered the gar- 
 rison of the Alamo at San Antonio and he was followed up and 
 defeated by General Houston at San Jacinto. We acknowl- 
 edged Texan independence in 1839, and annexed Texas to 
 the Union in 1845. A row resulted over the southern bounda- 
 ries, we claiming the Rio Grande and Mexico to the Nueces. 
 We fought and fixed it in our own favor, and then gave ten 
 million dollars to determine the north and west boundaries. 
 Texas joined the secession in 1861, but was received again 
 into the Union in 1870. Dogfights and scraps are perennial 
 along the border, and have been so from the beginning, espe- 
 cially during the last ten years. 
 
PETRIFIED TREE BRIDGE 
 
 ARIZONA 
 
1 — ^ ■ II 
 
 
 ~ 
 
 
 
 •'* 
 
 ,•""" 
 
 
 .,..^***'**^ 
 
 
 
 
 *o 
 
 
 
 
 ,^f^' 
 
 1 
 
 Mfi^M. 
 
 C 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 m 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 A FRENCH COUNTESS 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 61' 
 
 LYNCHING— A FINE ART 
 
 HAEITY begins at home. To make the world safe for 
 democracy, we must inscribe a circle whose center 
 shall be the United States. Recently Americans were 
 deeply stirred by the story of a Canadian soldier who 
 pictured the crucifixion of three Canadians by German fiends. 
 How would the Administration like a brave Negro soldier to 
 make a ''four-minute" speech between the acts in our national 
 theatres, and tell of some of the Hunnish, hellish treatment of 
 his countrymen in the South for which they have no redress 
 and for which Washington has no rebuke? This year, at 
 Estill Springs, Tenn., a Negro was burned at the stake after 
 he had been tortured into a confession of murder "by applica- 
 tion of red-hot irons." More recently, another Negro was 
 burned in the South after his eyeballs had been seared by red- 
 hot irons. At Valdosta, Ga., a colored woman was hanged by 
 a mob, with no legal evidence of her guilt. She was hanged 
 without one of her sex present, without a clergyman to offer 
 a prayer — hanged without any proof of her guilt — hanged in 
 defiance of law and justice. 
 
 These incidents are in the class of the East St. Louis infamy, 
 still unavenged, where Abel's innocent blood cries red-lipped 
 to the white throne of eternal justice. In traveling through 
 Texas and the Southern states I saw and heard things that 
 made me blush as an American citizen — things blacker than the 
 skins of the Negroes en route to fight in Europe that every 
 bondman's chain may be broken. Negro soldiers walked to 
 railroad stations and were herded in stuffy, separate, dirty wait- 
 ing rooms ; they were packed into Jim Crow cars ; in public 
 parks they met the sign "Negroes Not Allowed." In a New. 
 York George Washington parade the Negroes were first ruled 
 out, and finally only 600 were allowed in line, with the under- 
 standing that their colored friends should furnish the food for 
 them on that day. 
 
 What did we fight for in the South ? What are we fighting 
 for abroad? Is it to make the world safe for democracy? 
 Then let us have a safe kind of democracy for the world. All 
 
62 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 these men ask is a square deal, and the Bible and our Consti- 
 tution guarantee it. "Why this insult to God and man? Why 
 this color line of race segregation and un-American discrim- 
 ination? Some of the best and bravest soldiers in our wars 
 have been black, and their white heat of patriotism has flashed 
 on the battlefield and burned in the trenches of France. **He 
 gave a magnificent example of courage and energy" was the 
 compliment given by a French general of a division to Private 
 Henry Johnson, U. S. A., colored. Of Needham Roberts, col- 
 ored, it was said publicly, *'He was a good and brave soldier.''' 
 In his official communique. General Pershing affirmed, ''Both 
 men fought bravely. ' ' Though they were both severely wound- 
 ed, they beat off an attack by twenty Germans in a listening 
 post, forcing them to retire. The Croix de Guerre was award- 
 ed them for their splendid initiative, valor and determination. 
 
 It is right that we should refer to what the Negro has done 
 and that he may be depended upon in the future as one who will 
 rise patriotically equal to the emergency. What the Negro 
 wants today, and deserves, is not words, but deeds, not jingo 
 compliments, but considerations of justice. It is said that 
 alien Austrian enemies have received more privileges than 
 Negro soldiers in uniform. No price is too great for our gov- 
 ernment, in men or money, *'to make the world a decent place 
 to live in," where all creeds, colors and conditions may have 
 the life and liberty they are entitled to. At the same time, it is 
 well to remember that in our own resplendent land, where we 
 abolished slavery, we have withheld justice in many ways to 
 a patriotic people who have not received what liincoln gave 
 them. We have put the word *'mock" in democracy and made 
 a mockery of our boasted justice. 
 
 Three Negroes recently were lynched in Tennessee on the 
 mere charge that they were stealing hogs. This sounds like 
 Prussia, and the so-called Americans who are so Hun-hearted 
 as to commit these crimes should be shipped over to Germany, 
 for there is no room for them here. Southern governors have 
 been grossly delinquent in punishing these murderous mobs. 
 
 Would that the President took as much interest to prevent 
 the lynchings and burning of Negroes as his Attorney-General 
 Gregory did to indict the murderers of Albert Praeger, the 
 
ON THE WARPATH 63 
 
 loyal German-American lynched in Illinois. But lie plays pol- 
 itics with the South, which he always favors, and by silent 
 indifference cruelly condones the un-Christian, un-American 
 wrongs against citizens who are worthy Americans, if their 
 skin is black. 
 
 A FIENDISH FILM 
 
 URING this trip I saw billboards and posters adver- 
 tising **The Birth of a Nation" film, which only adds 
 fuel to the fire of race hatred. 
 
 Thomas Dixon, who furnishes the plot of the film 
 in his novel, ''The Clansman," is a Southern minister who talks 
 love with the accent of hate. He tries to make us believe God 
 made the world just for white folks, Christ died for white 
 folks only, and Heaven is the white man's eternal home, to 
 which no black man need apply. Mr. Dixon believes he was 
 born with spurs on his heels, that the black man was born 
 with a saddle on his back, and that it is Dixon's ministerial 
 mission to ride the colored man to the grave here and hell 
 hereafter. 
 
 Mr. Dixon is an ''unregenerate rebel" who is trying to re- 
 write history and make us believe that slavery was right and 
 freedom wrong; the North an enemy and the South a friend 
 to the Negro ; that the black man was better physically, men- 
 tally and morally in the cotton fields than now in college or 
 professional life ; that the colored man should be disfranchised, 
 the fourteenth and fifteenth amendments abrogated, and the 
 Negro deported to Africa. 
 
 Fact, not fiction, tells us slavery was a moral and industrial 
 sin in the body politic, and God sent the sword to cut it out and 
 save our national life. In opposition to Dixon's film story is 
 God's battlefield canvas from Bull Run to Vicksburg, a thou- 
 sand miles long, a million men in arms, and with the words 
 ''Liberty and Union" painted in letters of blood. 
 
 Dixon's "Clansman" and film are not only a lie to history, 
 but a libel on the colored race as a whole, who were among the 
 
64 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 bravest before the cannon's mouth at Wagner, and elsewhere, 
 and among the most faithful in the South, protecting property 
 and safeguarding the happiness and honor of the Southern 
 women while their husbands and brothers were off to the war. 
 
 "We are asked to believe that all the colored man lived and 
 labored for was to love some white woman and seek to steal, 
 seduce or force her to marry him. The Negro is not a moral 
 pervert. The Seventh Commandment has more often been vio- 
 lated by the white men and boys against black women and 
 girls than by Negroes against whites. Anyone v/ho knows 
 the meaning of the word '' mulatto," and what relations were 
 in war times between white master and black slave, will feel 
 there is little chance for a white man ''without sin" to throw 
 stones at a sinful black man. My father was a Union soldier ; 
 I have talked to many veterans ; lived in the South ; read 
 and studied history, and talked with colored women in Min- 
 neapolis who have made me believe that when it comes to 
 passional crime the white man 's sin is a burning sun compared 
 to the black man's tallow candle. 
 
 Mason and Dixon's line was supposed to have been burned 
 out, together with all the barriers between North and South, 
 but Mr. Thomas Dixon would redraw and rebuild them. His 
 angel children, the Ku Klux Klan, are imps that would have 
 disgraced Hell in its palmiest days. Like some other secret 
 ** regulation" societies in the South after the war, they had a 
 single virtue linked to a thousand crimes. They were not the 
 pious Purity Squad of moral police, such as Dixon would have 
 us believe, but a band of hell-hearted assaulters and assassins 
 for whom Nero would have been a fit leader. They stood for 
 killing, kindling and kidnaping. The white men who were bad 
 in Rebellion times were worse in Reconstruction times, and the 
 North had to go South and put them out of bloody business. 
 The Ku Klux Klan wore white robes over black hearts, blessed 
 their damned hate v/ith sacred texts, and began their mur- 
 derous marauding with the sign of the cross, like the Inquisi- 
 tors who used to lead heretics to the stake. History is ma- 
 liciously misinterpreted and perverted, facts distorted, events 
 put in wrong light, half-truths told that are worse than whole 
 lies, outlawry condoned, and lies, looting, lechery and lynching 
 
ON THE WARPATH 65 
 
 glorified by a man who prefixes the title ^'Reverend'' to his 
 name. If one were to read his ''Clansman," or see its film 
 illustration as a matter of pleasure or fiction ,that would be one 
 thing ; but to put them forward as sober historic fact and mis- 
 inform people who are ignorant of the periods of the Rebellion 
 and Reconstruction is a very different and very serious matter. 
 
 ''The Birth of a Nation" was not at the close of the Civil 
 War in 1864, but in 1787, when the Constitution of the United 
 States was adopted; when the colonists, finding their state gov- 
 ernment weak and about to fall in thirteen pieces, decided to 
 merge their colonial institutions into one national one. Five 
 years after the close of the Revolutionary War a convention 
 was called to meet in Philadelphia; George Washington was 
 made its president, and a new Constitution was made that 
 bound all the states together into one country, under the rule 
 of a President and Congress. That Constitution embodied the 
 basic principles of free government for which Saxon sires and 
 sons had long contended. Upon the precious stones of free 
 speech, trial by jurj^, habeas corpus, equity before law, right 
 of petition and representation, rests the imposing structure of 
 our national union. 
 
 Dixon's book and film are un-Christian, unkind, unfair, un- 
 just, untrue, and un-American in their insidious attack on ten 
 million colored people, who are not given credit for their mar- 
 velous industrial, intellectual and religious progress since the 
 close of the war. The black man was what the white man made 
 him, a slave to labor, passion and superstition. The black man 
 today has made infinitely more and better progress than his 
 white detractors of the Dixon stamp. Were I a colored man, I 
 would feel complimented and cheered at what my race was 
 and is in its march toward the sky, in spite of what the white 
 man has done to drag it down to perdition. Personally, I have 
 much more respect for Booker T. Washington, with his black 
 skin, gray matter in his brain, and white heart, than for the 
 "Reverend" Thomas Dixon, with his white skin, black heart 
 and mud geyser which he calls a brain. The white man was 
 the black man's teacher, by precept and example of the "scal- 
 lawag" of the South and the vicious white "Carpet-Bagger" 
 from the North, who, after the war, led the recently freed 
 
(^ ON THE WARPATH 
 
 Negroes into lawless acts and corruption. It was the whites, 
 and not the blacks, who even then got the big booze and booty 
 end of it. During the Reconstruction period there were some 
 blacks guilty of lawless conduct and who assaulted and disfran- 
 chised the white men and sought to marry or assault some 
 white women. It w^as the exception, rather than the rule, and 
 what they did they learned from their masters, and did it by 
 way of retaliation. Like priest, like people — like white master, 
 like black slave. 
 
 Lincoln drew a black-and-white picture that Minister Dixon 
 should hang up in his study — ''There will be some blacks who 
 can remember that, with silent tongue, and clenched teeth, 
 and steady eye, and well poised bayonet, they have helped man- 
 kind on to this srreat consummation ; while I fear there will be 
 some white ones unable to forget that, with malignant heart 
 and deceitful speech, they strove against it." 
 
 It was ''with charity for all and malice toward none" that 
 Lincoln fought and gave his life for the freedom of the slave 
 and the maintenance of the Union, declaring, "This country, 
 with its inhabitants, belongs to the people who inhabit it." 
 The night Lee surrendered, Lincoln said to the cheering thou- 
 sands that crowded in front of the "White House, "Now let us 
 sing 'Dixie,' for henceforth 'Dixie' belongs to the North just 
 as the Stars and Stripes belong to the South, for we are one, 
 and brothers." 
 
 I have lived in the South, and am prepared to say that the 
 rank and file of their brave men and beautiful women known 
 no rivalry but that of loving duty. As Nature has wiped out 
 the stains of bloody battlefields, so love has made us of one 
 brotherhood. The war freed and unified the South, and today 
 a common enemy would make a common cause. They are loyal 
 to the flag that triumphed. 
 
 In the company of Abraham Lincoln, and of Jesus Christ, 
 who came to "set the captive free," "Reverend" Thomas 
 Dixon would feel very lonesome. But let us have no fear. 
 Heaven is a place of love, and a minister of hate will be sent 
 on a mission to another place. In the meantime, for all such 
 race-haters, slanderers, falsifiers, scatterers of firebrands, grave- 
 diggers of the skeleton past, and men who do not venerate the 
 
^ 
 
 ONTHEWARPATH 67 
 
 principles for which the Northern soldiers died, may the Gold- 
 en Gate of San Francisco swing shut on its hinges, and the 
 Goddess of Liberty in New York thrust out her right hand to 
 smite. 
 
 TEXAS TOWNS 
 
 |UR next stop was Houston. This city is named after 
 General Sam Houston, who defeated the Mexicans, 
 won Texas independence, was elected its first presi- 
 dent, was governor when Texas became a state of the 
 
 United States, and when he opposed secession was defeated. 
 
 The city is an important cotton and lumber center, exporting 
 
 cotton-seed oil and sugar. There are newly discovered oil 
 
 fields near by. 
 
 Texas is called the ''Lone Star State, '^ deriving its nick- 
 name from a flag with an azure star on a white background. 
 It is equal in size to half a dozen New Yorks, and contains 
 nearly 270,000 square miles. The coast is crescent shaped, has 
 islands of white sand, the indentation of the Gulf of Mexico, 
 and deep lagoons that reach up into the plantations. In the 
 southwest is situated Laguna de Madre, with water so salt 
 that it kills the fish that enter it. The salt deposit on its shore 
 is sufficient for home use and export. 
 
 The state is a countr}^ all in itself. The density of popula- 
 tion is small — whether this refers to the head or not I refer 
 the reader to Texas representatives at Washington. The state 
 produces cotton, corn and cattle. The Comanches roamed here, 
 and were not subjugated until 1874, when placed in reserva- 
 tions. They were fierce savages, were great hunters and fight- 
 ers, carried their skin lodges with them as they roamed, had 
 medical men, and Niatpol, ''my father," was their God. 
 
 San Antonio is the largest and most interesting city. It 
 is a health resort for consumptives. There are artesian springs, 
 manufactures, a horse, hide and mule market. Like Phila- 
 delphia, it boasts a cradle of liberty — its Alamo, where, for 
 
68 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 eleven days, 180 men resisted Santa Ana's army, with its many 
 thousands. Between 1776 and 1836 eight battles were fought 
 for independence under Spanish, French, Mexican and Texan 
 flags. 
 
 The Rio Grande river is the boundary, below El Paso, of 
 Texas and Mexico. It is 1,800 miles long, drains 160,000 square 
 miles, and is mostly shallow, though boats can ascend five 
 miles. The river Pecos is its chief tributary, which we crossed 
 over a famous viaduct 320 feet high and 2,184 feet long. The 
 river rises in the San Juan mountains of Colorado, has a length 
 of 800 miles, and carries little water — who would carrv much 
 for such a distance? Game is plentiful on both sides of the 
 river, especially snipe and '^sniping." The bad lands, of 
 course, are on the Mexican side. Leaving this serpentine river, 
 we reached Marathon, 4,034 feet high. To the south are the 
 Horse Head Hills and the spurs on the north are Sierra Muerte, 
 an Apache range. I wonder where the saddlebacks are ? The 
 climate here is said to *' approach perfection." Does it ever 
 reach it? 
 
 At Marathon the Athenians, under Miltiades, defeated the 
 Persians. In this Marathon there was no fight, though there 
 was the spirit of fight, as told me by some of the U. S. soldiers 
 stationed here. They said they had recently gone out to avenge 
 the murder of Americans by Mexican raiders. A cavalryman 
 swore he liked nothing better than going after the greasy, loot- 
 ing, robbing, raping desparado Mexican neighbors. Texans 
 I met along the border were hot, not simply from the sun above 
 but from anger within. They were anxious to cross over and 
 make Mexico safe for Americans. They boasted that Texas 
 itself could do it, would be glad to do it, and would have done 
 it long ago if the Administration had permitted. The truck- 
 growing region is at Alpine, thirty miles distant, but the truck 
 at Marathon is the U. S. auto truck to the soldiers on the bor- 
 der, and no car is large enough to carry the truculent feelings 
 our boys have toward the Greasers. 
 
 Paisano, over 5,000 feet, was the highest point on this route. 
 Here we saw the sun set on the summit of this Sunset Route. 
 
 El Paso is the northwest gateway to Mexico on the Rio 
 Grande, and is the * ' chief pass ' ' between the United States and 
 
ON THE WARPATH 69 
 
 Mexico. It has an elevation of over 3,700 feet. There are salt 
 deposits and minerals, mining and smelters. The dry climate 
 makes it a famous health resort. It is a live stock center, and 
 the valley produces fruits and vegetables. As a health resort 
 investors and tourists are most welcome. The arms of hospital- 
 ity are extended by a hospitable climate to overworked million- 
 aires, government profiteers, overtrained sports, mentally tired 
 ministers and lawyers, stoop-shouldered writers who need a 
 bracing atmosphere, lovelorn wrecks with heart lesions, and all 
 others who may have catarrh, phthisis, bronchitis or asthma. 
 The Pullmans bring many passengers with pulmonary diseases. 
 Years ago I crossed over to Juarez and saw a bull-fight. 
 That sport is now somewhat blase and has given way to killing 
 Americans, a pastime enjoyed very much by the Greaser, and 
 not seriously objected to by our government. If you are reli- 
 gious, you may visit the shrine of Guadaloupe; if irreligious, 
 attend a bull-fight ; and if historical, go to the ruins of the cap- 
 ital where Benito Juarez had his headquarters during the 
 French occupation. 
 
 SMUGGLING 
 
 MUGGLING is a high art and profitable profession at 
 El Paso. We were not allowed to cross the border 
 line, but others did and do. It is common for sweet 
 ■I senoritas to smuggle sugar. They have a device like an 
 oblong life-preserver with bulging ridges or ribs. These ribs 
 are filled with sugar and the girls wear it as a corset or old- 
 style bustle. How sweet the dear things must look in it! 
 Women, it is said, do most of the smuggling, because the men 
 inspectors are too modest to examine them. How ungallant ! 
 
 The men follow suit and smuggle sugar in their under- 
 drawers. Rubber bands hold them close up to the legs, just 
 above the knees, and the sugar is poured into this shapely bag. 
 This should make your coffee taste better. One Mexican was 
 caught smuggling 75 pounds of steak to the American side. 
 He plastered the steak around his waist under his shirt. Onions 
 may have been scarce, but steak smothered this way would be 
 equally odorous and palatable. 
 
70 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 MEXICAN ATROCITIES 
 
 WHILE we were here survivors were straggling into 
 Arizona and Texas and telling of an attack by Yaquis 
 on their Southern Pacific Mexican train south of 
 Guaymas. It was just one of many similar cases 
 that I had related in my book, ''The Devil in Mexico." This 
 deviltry seems as incredible as the fact that the Administration 
 cares and does so little about it. Here are a few details to 
 show that it is a fact and not fancy, truth and not a Carranza 
 subsidized press report. 
 
 All those who escaped did so by feigning death. Carlos 
 Estrella, one of the passengers, said that when the train pulled 
 out of Guaymas in the morning it consisted of sixteen coaches. 
 Two coaches, just behind the tender, carried the military 
 escort of about seventy soldiers. Then came the baggage and 
 express cars, seven freight cars and the five well filled passen- 
 ger coaches. As there had been no train south from Guaymas, 
 the coaches were carrying more than their usual quota of pas- 
 sengers, but it is impossible to approximate their number, for 
 many were traveling on military passes, no count of which had 
 been made. About 9:10 o'clock, when opposite kilometer 46, 
 the train was brought to a halt by the derailing of several of 
 the freight cars, the first few coaches having passed over the 
 spreading rails in safety. 
 
 Conductor Parades and many of the passengers alighted 
 to ascertain the cause of the stop, and were confronted by 
 the Indians who immediately opened a murderous fire. 
 Parades ran to the caboose, followed by several Indians who 
 bayoneted him as he tried to mount the steps. 
 
 A party of Indians then went through the passenger 
 coaches killing and robbing. It was then that Poe was killed. 
 Calling to the Indians and asking if they wanted money, he 
 reached for his pocket-book, but the Yaquis evidently mis- 
 took the move as hostile for they shot him down. 
 
 Mrs. Rene then threw herself across the body. Two other 
 gangs of savages passed through the coaches robbing and 
 killing. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 71 
 
 An old man, Ignacio Benedivil of Alamosa, pleaded for 
 the life of his two daughters, whereupon an Indian laughing- 
 ly shot him dead and carried the two girls away. 
 
 Estrella says that to make his own concealment more se- 
 cure, he drew over him the body of a man who had been 
 killed. 
 
 The third party of Indians who went through the coaches 
 seemed to be filled with rage because nothing valuable was 
 left, so they fired into the bodies of the dead and wounded, 
 cursing them. This lasted for almost two hours, when the 
 Yaquis took the women and girls, as captives, to the num- 
 ber of about thirty according to the survivors, and fled to the 
 mountains. 
 
 In the meantime the engineer and fireman had taken the 
 engine and tender on to Lencho where the news was wired 
 back to Empalme where reinforcements, under command of 
 General Juan Torres, were hastily gathered. Returning, Gen- 
 eral Torres stopped for the garrison at Oroz station and at 
 Potam, where a volunteer had joined the command. As the 
 reinforcement arrived at the scene of the massacre, the re- 
 maining Indians fled, but not until they had massacred every 
 living person in the coaches as they thought, and had rifled 
 every trunk and package in the express and baggage car. The 
 company's safe, however, proved too hard for them to crack. 
 
 A relief train that had responded to the hurried call of the 
 engineer, arrived from Guaymas in charge of General Monte, 
 who had hurriedly gathered together his medical staff and a 
 few soldiers, and rushed to the rescue. Naked bodies of the 
 dead and wounded and the few living lay everywhere. Women 
 and children were still screaming and pleading for life as they 
 died. 
 
 Immediately the medical staff began to dress the wounds 
 of the living and the remaining soldiers to clear the track and 
 make it possible for the train to proceed South. General 
 Torres took with him on the train the wounded and the few 
 living, as well as the dead who belonged in the south. Many 
 of the dead were buried on the spot. The identified dead and 
 wounded who belonged to the North, were carried back to 
 
72 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 Empalme and Guaymas on the relief train. The bodies of 
 Mr. Poe and Alonzo Suarez were buried at Empalme, accord- 
 ing to the story of the passengers. Albert Joffroy, the Ameri- 
 can boy who survived, was wounded three times. 
 
 Ralph Spovel, the American railroad auditor, was brought 
 back to Empalme where he died and was buried. Carlos 
 Jarilla, who till recently was employed by A. Carpens of 
 Nogales, suffered the same fate and was also buried at 
 Empalme. Among the unidentified dead there may have been 
 other Americans, for it is known that many are unaccounted 
 for. 
 
 The passengers reported that Mrs. Juan Rene, an Ameri- 
 can woman and wife of a Mazatlan physician, is recovering 
 at Guaymas after her clothing had been stripped off by one 
 of the bandits in an effort to obtain her jewels. That Mrs. 
 Rene is alive is due to her presence of mind in throwing her- 
 self across the body of H. J. Poe, the Los Angeles traveling 
 man who was killed. One of the Yaquis tore every garment 
 from her body, then threw her back on the floor among the 
 dead and wounded. Mrs. Rene feigned death and did not 
 move an eyelash during the whole ordeal. 
 
 Such is the survivors' account. This is the fate my son 
 and I just escaped 10 months before when our train was held 
 up by bandits in Mexico between Esperanza and Vera Cruz. 
 These butcheries are of common occurrence^ yet the U. S. 
 Administration seems to be more anxious to punish those who 
 write and tell the facts than the Mexican fiends who commit 
 them. 
 
 Yet today Mexico is the only place in the world I know 
 of where our American missionaries are not permitted to 
 preach, the one place in the world that needs them more than 
 any other. The old Mexican constitution which guaranteed 
 this right has been succeeded by the Carranza constitution 
 which annuls it, and our state department, preoccupied and 
 pressed with the struggle in Europe, allows its rights in Mexico 
 to be utterly ignored without a word of active practical pro- 
 test. But what can you expect from Venustiano Carranza 
 who rewards our friendship to him by sending the following 
 birthday telegram to the Kaiser, our worst enemy? ''To 
 
ON THE WARPATH 73 
 
 your Majesty wlio celebrates his anniversary today with just 
 
 cause for rejoicing : I have the honor to send your majesty my 
 most cordial congratulations and am pleased to express to you 
 my best wishes for your personal happiness and that of your 
 august family." 
 
 f> 
 
 KING COTTON 
 
 HE S. P. means slow progress, though our train may 
 have been late on account of the undu' bating" coun- 
 tr}'-. The boll weevil came into Texas from Mexico, 
 where most troublesome things come from in this 
 region, and annually does millions of dollars damage to the 
 cotton crop. Cotton is king and the only king the state will 
 stand for. Mr. Boll Weevil does not believe in kings and tries 
 to kill him. All our botanical and agricultural detectives are 
 alert to meet and destroy this assassin. 
 
 It is a question with some people North, East and West 
 whether this war is to make the world safe for democracy or 
 the South safe and prosperous for the Democratic party. 
 Not long ago I was in the South when the people tearfully 
 begged me to buy a bale of cotton. Now it has doubled and 
 trebled in price until common people, who have never worn 
 silks and satins, may pay as much for cotton aprons and 
 calico dresses. Congress knocked off 80 cents a bushel from 
 the farmer's wheat and fixed the minimum price of his hogs 
 so that it didn't pay to feed them. It looked like a case of 
 robbing Peter to pay Paul for in the meantime the untaxed 
 and increased value of cotton went sky high. The govern- 
 ment controls the price of wool, but hasn't pulled the wool 
 over the eyes of some people who ask, ''Why exempt cotton 
 from the proportionate war tax?" It is estimated now that 
 the South pays ten per cent of the Federal taxes and the rest 
 of the country ninety. It has been figured that from half to 
 three quarters of a billion dollars could be raised by a war 
 profit tax on cotton alone, yet the political party's policy is 
 apparently, ''How not to do it." To the question why this 
 
74 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 gross and glaring injustice has been shown the Southern 
 farmer, at the expense of the Western farmer and the manu- 
 facturers and middlemen, there is the usual answer. Mr. 
 McAdoo, a Southerner, is in the saddle. The Southerners 
 head all the important committees and the South controls 
 legislation. This is rank injustice. There is no equity in the 
 Administration's attitude. The offense is foul and smells to 
 heaven. Democracy means equal rule and rights of all the 
 people and not only of the Democratic party in power. 
 
 WHAT TO TAX? 
 
 CAESAR AUGUSTUS decreed that all the Roman world 
 should be taxed, and Joseph and Mary went to 
 Bethlehem. In later years Jesus paid the capitation 
 tax at Capernaum, telling Peter, ''Go thou to the 
 sea, and cast a hook, and take up the fish that first cometh up ; 
 and when thou hast opened his mouth, thou shalt find a piece 
 of money; that take, and give unto them for me and thee." 
 
 A tax is a levy on propertj^ and persons for the support of 
 the government. From the beginning nations have been 
 taxed and will be to the end, and death itself is simply a tax 
 on life. 
 
 The Jews gave taxes on fruits and flocks ; Greeks, on mines 
 and imports ; Rome, on spoils, grain and citizenship ; Europe 
 had taxes on land and import duties ; in Asia the office of tax- 
 gatherer was sold to the highest bidder, who proceeded at once 
 to rob the people. Unjust taxation means hate and revolu- 
 tion. Fair taxation means patriotism and prosperity. 
 
 Our colonies' motto was, ''No taxation without represen- 
 tation" when England tried to tax stamps and tea. Today in 
 a government of, by and for the people we have federal, state 
 and city taxes. 
 
 What now should be taxed? Ltixuries and not necessi- 
 ties; bachelors and old maids; churches as well as theatres. 
 If the idleness, pride and folly of Americans were taxed there 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 75 
 
 would be no need of war loans, and we would have money to 
 burn in powder for war, fuel for the freezing and light for 
 darkened homes. 
 
 Next to love of mother is love of country. 
 
 The liberty we enjoy today was born of suffering, cradled 
 in sacrifice, educated and defended by pious patriotism. 
 
 No sacrifice is too much for mother — none should be too 
 great for our country. We are debtors to both, let us gladly 
 pay our debts. 
 
 A good citizen does not object to city taxes for streets 
 and lights — if he is a good American citizen he will not resist 
 a national taxation that makes for the paths of future peace 
 and prosperity and the lights of law and liberty. 
 
 America's ideal of freedom at home and abroad can only 
 be maintained by an army and navy. This armed force must 
 be paid for. The money must come by Liberty Loan, and the 
 just and intelligent taxation of rich and poor whether they 
 live in the South, or North, East and West. Uncle Sam ex- 
 pects every man to do his duty, and the way he spells it is 
 ''due"ty. 
 
 NEW MEXICO 
 
 E crossed the Rio Grande from El Paso into New 
 Mexico whose early inhabitants were cliff-dwellers, 
 Pueblo Indians and Spaniards. Here the mountains 
 rise twelve thousand feet and the rivers run down 
 south into the Gulf and west into the Pacific. The soil is 
 fertile and produces Lidians, cattle, gold, silver, zinc, copper, 
 iron and coal. As to education, the people think more of gold 
 than grammar and of mines than mind. The mountains are 
 high but education is low. In 1900, 33 per cent of the popu- 
 lation of ten years of age was illiterate, making the worst 
 showing of any of our states. Yet this is no surprise when we 
 learn there are so many Spanish customs and Mexican peo- 
 ple who have not learned that wisdom is wealth. Pedagogic- 
 ally speaking, New Mexico is punk, geologically it is great. 
 
76 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 Around Deming we saw a fine cattle-raising country and 
 at the nearby Camp Cody Uncle Sam, in his national train- 
 ing camp, is raising his boys to be soldiers. 
 
 RELICS 
 
 GAUL was divided into three parts and Arizona est 
 divisa into plains, mountains and canyons. The 
 name *' Arizona" is from the Indian ''Arizonak,'* 
 meaning natural features of land and water. From 
 its looks it appears to be derived from ''arid" and ''zone," 
 in spite of the big Colorado and Gila rivers. The state raises 
 mules, cattle, sheep, wheat and hay, and mines gold, copper, 
 coal and wolframite from which we procure tungsten. 
 
 We made our bow to Bowie, a place that suggests a heavy 
 sheath knife and not a city, though it was the centre of early 
 western cowboy and camp life. Colonel James Bowie of 
 Texas has the honor of inventing the bowie knife. He is said 
 to have made the blade out of the back of a wornout file with 
 which he had already killed his man. In this vicinity the 
 tooth of a mastodon was discovered and a skull of an ele- 
 phant, showing that long before our party reached here some 
 Pleistocene tourists had been over the ground and died, 
 whether of tooth ache or brain fever is not known. Perhaps 
 it may have been the result of the war-food menu on the west- 
 ern diners. I feared I might leave one of my teeth broken 
 on the rocky bill of fares. The dining company was inclined 
 to camouflage. Flags and patriotic mottoes were conspicuous 
 to divert attention from the business of eating. The amounts 
 were divided and the prices doubled. Magnifying glasses 
 were needed to find the food and rock crushers to break it. 
 The cattle out of the window looked good, but on my plate 
 bad. Menus were miserable. They would have turned the 
 stomach of a statue. Out here I expected a game dinner. 
 Instead of that some of the hotels offered a poker game. 
 
 Bowie is known for nearby prehistoric ruins and an old his- 
 toric fort. From here we journeyed north to Globe on an 
 Arizona-Eastern road. The sun rose as usual, but to us it was 
 
ON THE WARPATH 11 
 
 an unusual sunrise. Its glory leaped from peak to peak, turn- 
 ing the plain into a field of gold and making the hills look 
 like piles of solid gold. Along the tracks were ''wickiups" 
 and their Apache occupants were up and wrapped up in 
 blankets from which protruded shocks of black hair. Their 
 dull mahogany faces were very tame from what I had ex- 
 pected from Dime novel descriptions. They are very* re- 
 served on this San Carlos reservation where 5000 Apaches, 
 devoid of war paint and arms, stand like wooden Indians 
 looking at the train. What were their thoughts? No mat- 
 ter. We passed through safely. These •'Injuns" did not 
 lasso the engine, rob the express or murder and scalp us. 
 My great expectations were disappointed. 
 
 The Apache tents, or wickups, are rounded on top 
 resembling half of a gigantic grape fruit, or a toadstool or 
 wagon umbrella. From the looks of the tents, wraps and 
 robes, all patched, they were well named Apache. 
 
 This tribe had the reputation of being fierce, predatory 
 and ranging. They are now held in check by the government 
 so that the proverb has lost its point, "The only good Indian 
 is a dead Indian." 
 
 It began to sprinkle and I asked the conductor if it often 
 rained in the desert. He looked astonished and replied, "This 
 is no desert, but the most fertile part of Arizona." I ad- 
 mitted there was an excellent crop of rocks, sage brush and 
 wickiups. Yet this soil, when irrigated, blossoms and bears 
 fruit, I was told. 
 
 The engine had a hard time climbing the grade and wet 
 rails because of the grade of coal, or because the big fellows 
 had been drafted by Uncle Sam to Eastern service, and the 
 little engines with little draft had too much to carry. 
 
78 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 UNDER GROUND 
 
 HUR train was too slow to resemble Puck and '*put 
 a girdle round the Globe in forty minutes/' We 
 finally made the Globe town. Naturally we stopped 
 off since we were globe-trotters, though all that 
 
 was of value and worth seeing here was a thousand feet under 
 foot. 
 
 Globe is a reformed mining camp and near the city are 
 large copper mines that turn out 4,000,000 pounds of ore 
 monthly. Copper is king and he had a retinue of U. S. sol- 
 diers guarding his dominion from I. W. Ws. At the Old 
 Dominion smelter I was stopped by a U. S. guard, but allowed 
 to proceed when I showed a letter to the superintendent. The 
 guard told me that I. W. Ws. had stormed the place last year 
 for two days and kept the employes as prisoners so they could 
 not get food. Passing some government troops we entered 
 the office and received permits to enter the mine. 
 
 Our guide took us to the entrance, gave a signal and up 
 came the cage with a man looking like an Imp from the in- 
 ferno. We entered, he signalled and down, down, 1800 feet 
 we went. Gallery after gallery was passed, it grew warmer 
 and felt as though we were headed for Hades. We went 1800 
 feet although I know many people who for copper or gold 
 have kept on going down till they landed in a literal hell. I 
 wanted some copper souvenirs and unintentionally received 
 some in the form of wet and yellow mud on my coat. Ulysses, 
 Aeneas and Dante started afoot into the lower regions — I had 
 the advantage of an elevator in my descent. The sensation 
 was depressing. It was a facilis descensus. We exchanged 
 the sleet and snow air above for the hot furnace breath be- 
 neath. It was like falling down a chimney. The sensation 
 of jumping off the edge of the world into Night would be 
 the same. 
 
 hike Dives, I was thirsty down here and longed for a few 
 drops of the cold rain I had left above. I had been in salt, 
 coal and copper mines before, but never so far below. I in- 
 formed the elevator man that I wasn't permitted to leave the 
 country and that he had better stop before he landed in 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 79 
 
 China, since I had no passport. Finally we climbed out of 
 the cage, walked through long illuminated tunnels and dis- 
 covered an underground river, a regular Phlegethon or Styx. 
 I have been over the top of the world, but never explored 
 its viscera. Globe was busy above yet busier below. Monster 
 engines on this low level were pumping out millions of gal- 
 lons of water to keep the men and mine from flood. There 
 was a spider work of track over which small cars of ore moved 
 about like flies. 
 
 Miners with lights on their caps groped about like gnomes 
 and dwarfs. These were the true mountain kings, fit inspira- 
 tion for some Grieg to paint with sound. What a buried city 
 this was with its forests of timber supports and miles of tun- 
 nels. I listened to all the mine facts and philosophy of cop- 
 per metallurgy, viewed the sections at work and the various 
 appliances, but was thinking of getting out alive, that many 
 never do, and no grave-digger is ever necessary. One has 
 different thoughts under the crust of the earth than those 
 under the sky's canopy. 
 
 COPPER 
 
 COPPER has many uses which have existed from earli- 
 est times. ** Copper" means policeman, and like the 
 officers, it is often very hard to find. In Egypt or 
 elsewhere copper means to place chips in faro and bet 
 against. A copperhead is the nomenclature of a red-headed, 
 brown, triangular marked snake, with no rattles, four feet 
 long, that loves rocky and dry places and is sluggish but 
 poisonous. The term ''copperhead" was applied by Union- 
 ists to Democrats who opposed war measures, believing we 
 could not conquer the South. The Knights of the Golden 
 Circle came under this head of copperhead and its chief 
 apostle was C. L. Vallandigham. 
 
 Copper is obtained by "wet" and "dry" process, and 
 thefts of junkmen. It is a bright red metal, ductile, malle- 
 able and tenacious. It is the chief constituent of brass, bronze 
 and gun metal, a compound for paints, preserving timber, and 
 
80 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 its sulphate is used in dyeing, printing and for insecticide. 
 As a conductor of heat and electricity it beats Dan Cupid, and 
 is used for coins, ships, arts, stills, domestic utensils, tubular 
 boilers, electrotyping and electrocuting. 
 
 After circumnavigating this lower portion of the Globe, 
 we came up and out from the mine, glad to see the sky again 
 and breathe the Arizona ozone. On arrival at earth's crust I 
 made this reflection — animals bore in the ground but man is 
 the biggest bore on earth or in it. Man thinks he is the self- 
 elected monarch of the animal, vegetable and mineral world, 
 of bird of sky and fish of sea, of the heavens above and the 
 earth beneath. 
 
 GLOBE-TROTTING 
 
 \N a city window we saw original specimens of as- 
 bestos taken from adjacent mountains. "When 
 needed, I have arranged to secure some of it for pages 
 of my next book, since paper is scarce and inflam- 
 mable. This asbestos belongs to the hornblende family. It 
 is of fine fibre, like flax and wool, incombustible, soft to touch 
 and in color runs to gray, green, brown, red and black. Cloth 
 is made of it. The old Komans wrapped their dead in it 
 when placed on the funeral pyre, and the ashes were retained, 
 unlike the custom of the Hindus who throw them away. This 
 fibre is used for pipes, safes, fireproof paint, and theatre cur 
 tains which frequently prevent the audience from *' firing 
 unordered menu of antique eggs and vegetables at the actors. 
 
 Globe once had a reputation that circled 'round the globe, 
 but those dear mining times are ''ore." Did we tourist pros- 
 pectors find hold ups on corners, exchange of shots across the 
 streets, lynchings on street corners, dead men cut up in alleys, 
 gambling, faro and roulette dens thick as sin, brothels and 
 concert dives full day and night, saloons pouring money in 
 tills as the drinkers tilted their heads and poured booze down 
 their throats, jails jammed, and coppers in the copper town? 
 No, gentle reader, these things are not, and at eight p. m., 
 
 if 
 
ON THE WARPATH 81 
 
 the town is as dead as the most pious New England village. 
 Now the saloons sell pop and buttermilk, the scarlet woman 
 has received a blue ticket, the evening's most exciting amuse- 
 ment is the movies. We peered into lighted rooms filled with 
 men playing innocent Y. M. C. A. games. Instead of spots 
 on character there were dirt splashes on suits, for the mud 
 was soft and plentiful. The Globe citizens were no Wild West 
 desperadoes, but people who looked kindly, answered ques- 
 tions in a friendly way and politely gave you more than the 
 right of way. When my wife and I started across the street 
 the one auto there, instead of splashing mud on us or run- 
 ning over us, as is the custom in the cultured East, slowed, 
 stopped and signalled to cross at leisure. 
 
 In every part of the globe visited I found John Chinaman, 
 so I was not surprised to find him here in this part of the 
 Globe. As usual he was waiting and willing to wash your 
 clothes outside or fill your hunger inside. The meal John 
 served was for miners and Majors and its quality, quantity 
 and price put to shame all the ''win the war'* food fakes his 
 white Christian brother had served us. Another tempting 
 and exciting pleasure in this woolly town was the purchase 
 of some apples and postcards from some rosy cheeked girls. 
 My good time was interrupted by the breaking of my watch 
 main spring. Leaving it in the care of a trusty jeweler, I 
 returned after this dissipation to the Old Dominion hotel and 
 lay down to dream that the cage broke its mine shaft moorings 
 and fell like Lucifer never to get up. When I awoke I was 
 in a feather bed and not down to bed rock. 
 
 THE APACHE TRAIL 
 
 |EXT morning at eight we hit the Apache Trail. It 
 was Thursday, not Sunday, not a sawdust trail, but 
 a trail on which we saw dust that trailed "clouds of 
 glory" when the sun struck it. Our party rode in 
 Wes Hill's Packard auto stage. Hill is a good name for a 
 mountain stage and Packard for a big pack load. On the 
 first stage of the trip the thing we most noticed was the cold. 
 
82 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 The first inspiration was the Inspiration Copper Smelter at 
 Miami, a Florida name for a frosty place. For thirteen miles 
 we ran by Pinal Creek. David killed the giant Goliath and 
 we snap shot the giant cactus Sahauro. Alone or in groups, 
 this cactus ranges from 30 to 50 feet high. The trunk is 
 fluted and full of sharp spines, one or more of the branches 
 being as large as the trunk. It bears a pretty red flower 
 which is the state flower of Arizona. It is the camel of plants 
 and desert reservoir, having a sponge interior cistern to ab- 
 sorb and hold water. 
 
 Our desert ship with Fred at the wheel sailed up 3700 feet. 
 For a time it seemed the trail was laid out, not by Indians 
 but by snakes, it was so winding. We turned, twisted and 
 met ourselves coming and going. In the distance was dis- 
 covered an asbestos mine high up on the range, resembling 
 a bank of snow. I was hunting for pleasure, but in the near 
 forests, where they obtained the big timbers for the dam, there 
 is a region for such game as deer, cougar and bear, which 
 you may hunt if you are not afraid to be hunted. A snow 
 storm threatened us but we outran it. Four peaks we saw 
 in the distance are over 7000 feet high and land marks for the 
 surrounding country. At the summit we caught a glimpse 
 of Roosevelt Lake 27 miles away. We needed no glass to see 
 it, for the clear air of Arizona is a good binocular. Across 
 this lake, and rising 5000 feet, was the "Dutch Woman" butte. 
 Her red face was wrinkled with age and she was far from be- 
 ing a "beaut." Next we passed a peak where the Tonto Apaches 
 once had signal fires. It was called Smoke Signal Peak. 
 The wood and the hands that lighted them are ashes, and 
 the only signals now are when the rising and setting sun 
 flashes red. The monument of the famous Apache Kid is a 
 mountain bearing his name. Here this outlaw red-skin, red- 
 handed, slaughtering savage, made his hunt and haunt. 
 
 After the May rains, this region is carpeted with brilliant 
 flowers, asters, acacia, cat's claw and Palo Verde. This time 
 of the year we saw no such carpet, but did find a *'rug"ged 
 landscape. 
 
 There are said to be 28 varieties of cactus — I didn't count 
 them, because I leave that to some scientific Knight "prick- 
 
ON THE WARPATH 83 
 
 ing" o^er the plain. "We were in a fast car but plainly saw 
 varieties of cactus commonly called Spanish bayonet, Coach 
 Whip and Barrel. My memory of the cactus is limited to some I 
 later fell in and was stuck with, and to a sort of ''sticky" 
 cactus candy sold at Phoenix that makes a fine desert dessert. 
 It is related that tourists, travelers and miners who were lost 
 in the desert had lived on cactus alone. Did they get stuck 
 on it and so couldn't get away like a Simon Stylites? 
 
 HIGH LIVERS 
 
 |IGH above us on a mountain side, like a limpet on a 
 rock washed up by some old flood, stood a castle 
 in the air, but substantial as stone. I drew a bead 
 on it with my glasses — it was a cliff-dwelling. What 
 a pity that a dwelling with such a fine location and view 
 should be unoccupied. Who was the first contractor, and was 
 he honest? Was it the house of a hermit or the man- 
 sion of some antediluvian aristocrat? Did people come 
 her for the summer months' vacation or was it a sort of half- 
 way resort hotel? Did the Toltec tourists stop here on their 
 trip to Mexico, and were the rates at this Cliff House as high 
 and steep as the path to it? It taxes one strength to climb up 
 — I wonder what the taxes were. 
 
 The dwelling was first discovered in 1540 by Coronado's 
 scouts and then as now was vacant, having a '*For Rent" 
 sign on it. Not even the Apaches in their legends tell of the 
 race which inhabited it. Did the Spanish sightseers, globe- 
 trotters, gold-hunters and conquistadores of Coronado sleep 
 her over night on their way and dream of castles in Spain, 
 those ''Seven Cities of Cibola" with their fabled wealth of 
 turquoise and gold ? Did a hermit crab stop here ? I wonder 
 why the Jesuit and Franciscan fathers, gloomy in thought and 
 garb, did not make this a site for some miracle-shrine. Was 
 it built by a misanthrope to get away from the world, as a 
 place of defense or an observatory? Were these cave-men 
 related to those of far-away date and place who courted with 
 
84 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 a club? How far did the lover fall when the father kicked 
 him off the front steps? Did the grocer, in absence of rear 
 delivery, hoist the stuff with rope and pulley as in Holland? 
 Perchance this cliff-dwelling was a military prison and place 
 of banishment. The man was some goat who could get up 
 here. The gray walls were crumbled as if Earthquake had 
 made a visit, and were guarded by cactus and sage, and oc- 
 cupied by birds, lizards and snakes. 
 
 This cliff-dwelling was easy of access, however, compared 
 with some in the surrounding country and Colorado Canyon 
 that are 800 feet sheer up and above the base of the cliff. How 
 would you like to be the iceman or tax collector there ? They 
 are admirable for fresh air sanitariums, but not for people 
 with weak hearts, and the burglars in those days had to be 
 acrobats. It is thought that the inhabitants of these high 
 dwellings were ancestors of the Pueblos. 
 
 The structures are built in ledges of rock and put in, it 
 would seem, by legerdemain. They are built of stone and 
 lime from two to three stories high and with square doors 
 and windows. They were hard to build and the work must 
 have been as dizzy and dangerous as sky-scraper building now. 
 To reach them one climbed up ladders of rope or wood or by 
 niches cut into the face of the rocks. These dwellings were 
 often overhung by rocks so as to be invisible to the enemy 
 above. The paths were only a foot wide and doubled to de- 
 ceive. 
 
 These lodges of masonry were made of black stone and 
 adobe mortar — their rites are still a mystery. In the villages 
 there were walls, gates, towers, small look-out windows, and 
 doors so low that one stoops to conquer entrance. I query 
 whether the cliff cities were up in the air at elections, if the 
 candidates made platforms, and if the reformers held up high 
 ideals. This style of architecture has been shelved and is 
 now a thing of the past. Its rocks are of interest to the geo- 
 logists, and its strata of society to the archeologists. 
 
 The general cliff-dwelling was on a level. The Cavate 
 houses were natural openings or excavated recesses. The 
 antiquity of the dwellers is shrouded in much myth. Noth- 
 ing definite or final has been settled. There is no authority 
 
ON THE WARPATH 
 
 85 
 
 for supposing that these people were a primitive race or that 
 they go farther back than ancestors of the Pueblo Indians. 
 "We met some Apaches on the road, not with tomahawks 
 but shovels. They were working for the government. 
 
 ROOSEVELT DAM 
 
 NATURE is not the only thing that can do big things 
 out here. Man, not to be outdone, has made a lake 
 30 miles long and 4 miles across. It is impounded 
 by the waters of the Salt River and Tonto Creek. 
 Its surface serves as a pocket-mirror for the star-eyed heaven, 
 the puffed out cheeks of the clouds, and the rough red faces 
 of the mountains. Beneath this lake lies an ancient cliff- 
 dwelling city buried in a watery grave. This artificial lake 
 contains such fish as salmon and black bass swimming over 
 these castle and cliff cave ruins like gold-fish around the toy 
 castles in a glass globe. The fish are the only gamey war- 
 riors now on this submerged battlefield. It is estimated that 
 if there were a five year drought and not a drop of rain, there 
 is enough water in this inland sea to irrigate 230,000 acres. 
 
 The site of the Roosevelt Lake and dam site is beautiful, 
 big and strong like the man it is named after. Theodore 
 Roosevelt is a national hero down here and any one who says 
 a word against him has to lick or be licked. While the T. R. 
 dam is here there will be no one to damn T. R. The dimen- 
 sions of the dam are 284 feet high with a crest length of 1125 
 feet. We autoed on its splendid boulevard top, looked over 
 its great stone precipice of man-made masonry, which looked 
 small compared with the enclosing cliffs. It is one of the 
 world's modern wonders. By it one million acres of soil will 
 be redeemed and that should lead to grateful soul redemp- 
 tion. Colored, fantastic, craggy cliffs rise on either side of 
 the dam for seven hundred feet. Round and above fly the 
 swallows with endless chants to slake their thirst, vultures 
 
86 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 wheel above to swoop on them, and on each side is a splash- 
 ing spillway falling into silent foam, a big spill of water, from 
 a reservoir bowl, falling from a height 60 feet greater than 
 Niagara and making a plunge of over 200 feet. 
 
 Abraham's or Ruth's lodge had no such surroundings as 
 the one here. Ruth embraced Naomi when she wanted to 
 lodge with her. This lodge is embraced by the two arms of the 
 Roosevelt Lake. The view is sublime and you may feed your 
 soul on scenery or your stomach with food. There is a collec- 
 tion of Indian curios for the curious, such as arrows, baskets, 
 feathers, pottery, blankets and beads. We wanted to see the 
 living relics of departed Indian worth on the hill side. 
 
 SCOUTING 
 
 |NEAKING out, we scrambled like goats up the hill 
 to look for Indians. But their scouts had seen our 
 approach, and instead of giving the signal to attack, 
 passed the word that drove them into the hiding of 
 their wickiup. W^hat is a wickiup? It is an Indian tepee or 
 tent with pole frames bent over and so covered as to resemble 
 a huge trap or a shock of hay. The ribs are covered with 
 rags, long grass and tin. Never before w^as I in so wild an 
 encampment of biscuit boxes, lard pails and tin cans. We 
 skirted some bushes that were hung with the brightest skirts 
 and duds of Indian women and children. The scenery was 
 wild, so were our exclamations, but the Apaches were very 
 tame. 
 
 Our expedition was to get pictures, so we stealthily crept 
 along the rocks, by bushes and cans, but could not take them 
 by surprise. Don't try to entice civilized Apaches by chromos, 
 glass beads and a stick of gum. This may do for their simple 
 brothers and sisters in the Andes — the only thing to make 
 these savages come out of their tents and be civil enough to 
 stand or sit for a picture, is to give them mazuma, to scatter 
 coin as you do corn for chickens. There were some kids by the 
 lake and from the strata of dirt on the ledges of their faces, 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 87 
 
 the tide of this lake's high water mark had never reached 
 their feet or foreheads. I suppose a sun bath and their hair 
 combed by the wind is sufficient toilet. I bribed some little 
 Apache kids, whose hair was in shocks and their clothes in 
 a shocking condition, to permit me to stand them against 
 the wall and shoot them. An old squaw appeared with two 
 dogs at her heels which did not lose the scent any more than 
 she did the nickels we tossed her. 
 
 Attention from this witch was withdrawn to a bewitching 
 Pocahontas with long braids of black hair flowing down her 
 back. She was dressed in a red skirt and shawl and held a 
 woozy, papoosy baby in her arms. We tried to bag this game 
 but she escaped and hid in her wickiup. We followed to the 
 canvas entrance but were stopped by the spiney ribs of the 
 cactus supports that upheld the tent and were good protec- 
 tors. In the tent sat the contented mother with babe at her 
 breast, and a squatting old squaw preparing dinner for the 
 bucks who were working for the government on the road at 
 $5 a day. 
 
 I motioned to the baby and kodak and offered one dollar 
 
 for a picture. My banker friend Hechtman, of Osseo, Minn., 
 
 who was enroute to Honolulu with his wife, offered another 
 
 but she scornfully smiled. Then we put up three and she shut 
 
 us up by raising her hand, extending five fingers and saying, 
 
 ''Five dollars, five dollars." That was enough to go around 
 
 for all the Apaches round there. She should have offered 
 
 me the whole establishment for that price. The tourist had 
 
 humored and spoiled her until she put on more airs than 
 
 Pocahontas or Minnehaha. 
 
 A Liberty Loan poster was tacked on a shack. If these 
 Apaches get as much from the travelers as the}'' did from us, 
 I think their quota should be set high up in the New York 
 and Chicago class. 
 
88 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 SALT RIVER canyon shoots a stream of fresh water 
 for seven miles and our auto ran along until it 
 stopped at Fish Creek station. We had thrown the 
 Old Woman Shoe mountain behind our shoulder and 
 left the mountain menagerie with its group of Eagle and Lion 
 head rocks. This twenty mile drive gave us an Arizona ap- 
 petite, and we felt as empty as a canyon or the tin cans along 
 the route. The definition of man as a biped who lives on 
 canned goods was doubtless made by some one who Jived in 
 Arizona. Our journey here was through a procession of gap- 
 ing cans and canyons. We had come by gorges but our meal 
 was the biggest gorge of all. There were no fish at Fish 
 Creek, only canned stuff. 
 
 In the distance rose Lion Head rock, and in the front yard 
 of our pilgrim's rest crouched a real live mountain lion with 
 a screen wire fence around her. She had been caught as a 
 cub and trained to be as gentle and playful as a kitten. A 
 chauffeur entered and pussy hissed at him from her box seat. 
 He quickly left the stage of action. Then her owner went 
 in. Instead of feeding her chunks of meat, he courted her 
 favor by breaking nice fresh eggs and allowing her to suck 
 them from the shells in his hands. The boss was thin and 
 when I was asked to enter I feared my fat might be too tempt- 
 ing and she might be inclined to change her egg diet. I 
 politely refused to be introduced to her and remained outside 
 the wire. 
 
 Off again, not with black care, but with Comfort, Pleasure 
 and Wonder. *'Nil admirari" would not have been Horace's 
 motto if he had been one of our party. Canyons to right of 
 us, left, in front and behind our auto volleyed and thundered 
 with gasoline explosion. Climbing through these mountain 
 fastnesses we were compelled to drive slow. At Horseshoe 
 bend we slipped across the bridge of Fish Creek and began 
 to crawl like a fly up the face of the cliff. The car made a 
 short curve and nearly collided with a four-horse truck team 
 on the narrow trail. Fred killed the ear instead of killing us, 
 put on the emergency brake, allowed it to pass, and then 
 
ON THE WARPATH 89 
 
 had a hard time to start up. He had to slide back before he 
 could start ahead, and all this time we were balancing on the 
 brink of a 900 foot chasm. It was not encouraging or com- 
 forting to see the remains of auto wrecks that had gone over 
 the side here. The danger is not savages but smash ups. 
 
 From now on wrecked autos were the mile posts and as fam- 
 iliar as the cactus and canyons. On this literal high way 
 Death was the bandit to rob one of life. This was some 
 scenery and sensation. One is glad his soul is saved and his 
 life insurance premium paid. These chasms were like yawn- 
 ing graves and suggested grave thoughts. 
 
 Lookout Point was at the right. We had to look out 
 suddenly and nervously and felt easier when we could de- 
 liberately and delightfully look out at the mighty and mag- 
 nificent picture of cavernous chasms, grotesque gorges and 
 colored cliifs. Nature is beautiful in deformity and the 
 panorama was as weird as the mountains of the moon through 
 a telescope. Standing here at mid-day and gazing at Arrow- 
 head mountain, we were targets shot through and through 
 by the burning arrows of Phoebus, not Geronimo. 
 
 The Summit view shows Mazatazal range and Four Peaks. 
 One finds the Satanic name of Diablo but the Creator is su- 
 preme. This is a real No Man's Land — it belongs to God. 
 My eyes were red, either from the dust of the ride, or be- 
 cause they were drunk with the scenery. Our eyes galloped 
 around the mesa over many miles of winding .road, roads fine 
 for autos and horses and especially so for a Pegasus with 
 poetic inspiration. At school I was averse to scanning verse, 
 but not here when it comes to scanning this rugged natural 
 poetry of Arizona scenery. This was not the Grand Canyofl, 
 only a baby grand canyon where the golden and silver fingers 
 of day and night played symphonies and nocturnes in most 
 harmonious colors. 
 
 Along this warpath the mountain formations are like bat- 
 tlements, turrets and parapets. The colored canyons looked 
 like sunset clouds. They were most brilliant sermons in stone, 
 and just as dry and barren as the sermons of some high-salar- 
 ied ministers. 
 
90 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 Along the mountain paths of Europe and South America 
 are many man-made shrines for the image of the Madonna. 
 Here on the face of a very high cliff is the likeness of a full 
 length statue of the Virgin Mary chiselled out by sun, frost 
 and shower. As on Sunday in church there come week-day 
 and wicked distracting thoughts, so in this stony cathedral, 
 whose silence is the audience chamber of God, we found this 
 Virgin figure placed between the Canyon Diablo on the left 
 and the * ' One-Eyed Giant ' ' on the right. 
 
 In Creation's morning when the fire was hot, Mother Na- 
 ture poured out her red and gray rock into many curious 
 forms. The Bull Frog looks natural enough to croak and 
 what a croak would echo if he did. The Gila monster, climb- 
 ing to get over the top of a cliff, is a giant lizard and looks 
 like the petrified remains of some prehistoric plesiosaurus 
 tossed up and left high and dry when the wave of Oblivion 
 engulfed this region. 
 
 Tortilla Flat creek is a station to pause at if hungry or 
 thirsty. The first dam was located here. The creek is 
 spanned by a very creaky, loose, wobbly bridge which swung 
 with the weight of an Indian girl walking towards us. She 
 shot an inviting arrowy glance and we all regretted there was 
 no time to pause and have her make some flat tortillas. 
 
 There are no blood-thirsty people on the trail but there 
 are very many booze-thirsty ones. Arizona is naturally dry 
 and needs irrigation — so are the people, not for natural water 
 from the dam, but from imported fire-water. Bootleggers get 
 it from neighboring states and smuggle it in by autos. Your 
 Uncle Sam is on their trail and makes it hot for these moral 
 outlaws. 
 
 Swirling by whirlpool rock to right of us, making obser- 
 vation of Little Alps to the left, and bouncing down Boulder 
 Canyon, we reached Mormon Flat where a party of early 
 Mormon emigrant campers were massacred by the Apaches. 
 These Indians, first in alphabet, cunning and cruelty, swooped 
 down like vultures on the defenseless pilgrims. 
 
 Here the Salt River gets up from its gorgeous bed, goes 
 across the flat and for change explores another rock-walled 
 
ON THE WARPATH 91 
 
 canyon. To left yawns sleepy Black Canyon and then Apache 
 Gap meets us. This is the historic place where in 1886 the 
 Apaches were made to hit the trail of defeat by Lieutenant 
 Lawton, 7th U. S. Cavalry. 
 
 Looping, lassoing, curving and corkscrewing, we chugged 
 down to the floor level of the Salt River valley. It was a 
 puzzle, labyrinth, maze and tangle of trail and we finally came 
 safely through — thanks to Providence, who with temptations 
 as mountains, always has a way of escape. Then we sigh re- 
 lief, rested ourselves and gave the auto a drink at the oasis 
 of the Government "Well. 
 
 Goldfield Mine was a wealth of golden glitter in the sun- 
 shine; "Weaver's Needle of sharp rock was knitting up the 
 ravelled edges of the clouds; Superstitious Mountain loomed 
 with its shadow suggestive of many mountains of superstition 
 still on the map of the mind that can only be removed by 
 some awful blast or quake of intelligence. There is a legend 
 that nine Indians climbed Mt. Superstition and all myster- 
 iously disappeared. Like Moses on Nebo, they never came 
 down. Their ghosts haunt the place and all but Apaches 
 give it the go-by. I have seen an Apache dance in Paris tough 
 quarters, and wish I could have seen the old annual sacred 
 devil dance in front of this mountain. They peopled it with 
 Satanic spirits, cried to them, were answered by them, and, 
 filled with revival spirit, went out to desperate marauding 
 and murder, ten fold more the children of the devil than be- 
 fore. This mountain is the last sentinel we passed on the 
 mountain trail before entering the desert. 
 
 THE DESERT 
 
 THE desert is a dry subject poets love to describe from 
 a distance. Omar, Byron and a bunch of bards have 
 pretended to love it and have written about it, but 
 they never stayed in it any longer than necessary. 
 Of course, every summer Harold Bell Wright lives in a tent 
 out in the Arizona desert and writes novels, yet who dares 
 
92 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 call him a great writer except to the amount of the check he 
 is able to write. People who dwell in deserts may be pictur- 
 esque and poetic to write about, but just think what the words 
 Bedouin, Indian, Fakir and Brigand suggest. 
 
 The desert may be defined as a place of dust, cactus and 
 centipedes ; a wilderness, a solitude, a vast stony sandy stretch 
 void of vegetation and moisture ; an uninhabited tract of land ; 
 a place where people attempt to run away from the world; 
 a resort for fools and wise men, savages and sages. 
 
 The desert is a place of bare rocks, white sand and crevices. 
 Instead of snow there is scorching sand ; in lieu of birds there 
 are serpents ; you hear the hiss of snake and hot wind. Dur- 
 ing the day the traveler sees shapes of ships, spires, walls 
 and towers in the mountain crags and listens in vain for a 
 word from stone lips petrified with silence. At sunset he 
 journeys through the clouds in thought and sails rivers of 
 gold. What is this world but a desert, and humanity a cloud 
 of dust that passes away ! Time has written Arizona history 
 on its rocky leaves — its drifting sands are the hour-glass for 
 those who have gone from time to eternity. What wonder- 
 ful pictures one sees in the desert where the brushes of the 
 air paint from the palette of the golden sun and silver moon. 
 The desert is a land of passion and repose, of dreams and end- 
 less calm. 
 
 How many men, sick in stomach and soul, are glad to be 
 self-sentenced exiles to the desert, anxious to get awaj^ from 
 life's dreary turmoil of fears and frowns, meanness and 
 malice, folly and falseness. 
 
 To some the desert is an empire of emptiness only in- 
 habited by the spirits of Famine and Fire. There is no river, 
 brook nor fountain — 'tis an endless horizon of burning sky and 
 barren earth. 
 
 To the desert come thugs, thieves and brutes. Others 
 come thirsting for gold and adventure only to die of thirst. 
 No matter how much you gush about the scenery, you long 
 for a gush of water. The saint loves the sighing night winds 
 and burning, bright stars. Like Elijah at Horeb, God is in 
 the still small voice, saying to his child, ^'Man is distant but 
 God is near." 
 
ON THE WARPATH 93 
 
 Most of earth's surface is sea and sand. The traveler 
 learns how many deserted places this world has and each 
 has a charm and beauty all its own. One sometimes asks the 
 question why was the desert put here, or anywhere, and what 's 
 its use? I don't know except to get out of. If Bacon were 
 living he could give the final cause reason. Perhaps the desert 
 is just a sun-burn tan or fever blister on the body of Mother 
 Earth. 
 
 Some flee to the desert with the words on their lips, "Any- 
 where, anywhere, out of the world." They are always bet- 
 ter off away than at home. They hate home and love travel, 
 they prefer solitude to the multitude, and sick of their sur- 
 roundings, like souls, they enter other lives. 
 
 The desert is the Elysium of the outlaw, tramp, poet, as- 
 cetic, nomad, Indian, hermit, anchorite, invalid, miner, as well 
 as of the scorpion, lizard, vulture, snake, jackall, camel and 
 lion. 
 
 I have seen deserts, that like steel mirrors, reflected the 
 light of sky and earth on fire. Some seemed like winding 
 sheets of sand for a dead world. It is a domain of Death 
 where dwell Fear, Famine, Thirst and Terror. It is the 
 majestic throne of Silence and Immensity — a stage with set- 
 ting of mirage where pageants of colored clouds march on 
 forever. 
 
 In the desert your shadow is your only companion. Here 
 you wish for nothing, aspire to nothing and regret nothing. 
 You are the slave of circumstance as the desert is the slave of 
 the sun. The souvenirs one carries away from this land of 
 Death are whitened bones. Desert silence is broken by the 
 tinkle of the camel-bell and screech of the vulture. Far 
 from the madding crowd, the desert encroaches on your 
 thought until color becomes deified. 
 
 In the desert one may be alone but not lonely. The lover of 
 crowds, banquets and balls stays but a short time, unless like 
 Cain he is a fugitive. To me, the man is empty-minded who 
 says the desert is empty. One may not have all human com- 
 forts, yet he may receive divine consolation. There is no 
 room or flat except all outdoors ; no decorated ceiling and 
 electric lights, just God's sky, sun, moon and stars; no gra- 
 
94 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 phophone, but the music of wind and sand; no easy chairs 
 and beds, but Jacob's pillow with divine dreams; no movies 
 and stage, but an amphitheatre of shifting scenes; no oil 
 paintings, but sunrise, sunset and cloud; the architecture is 
 rocks, the library, geology. The mental horizon is bigger 
 just as the physical one is. The desert has its blessings — no 
 alarm clock, or bath, or shave, or newspaper, or cook, or 
 trolley, or office, or business, or club, or golf, or banquet, or 
 concert, or lecture, or theatre, or sermon, or war-movie, or 
 problem play, or visits. Man should be thankful for an oc- 
 casional Robinson Crusoe existence. Desert change is bene- 
 ficial. It is well to leave man's hand-made hell of crowded, 
 smelly, grimy cities for God's open, large, clean desert. 
 
 The desert is an oven by day and an ice-box by night. 
 The wells one is sure to find are the wells of perspiration. 
 As we crossed the desert our auto was a motor-boat and on 
 this sandy sea we were covered with dusty spray. We brushed 
 along the road and the brush most needed was the clothes 
 brush. In the desert one finds cactus, carcasses and rattle- 
 snakes, the last being a poor toy for a child. 
 
 Artists love nude models — is this the reason why the naked 
 and bare desert furnishes them with so many paintings? I 
 have seen the desert sand yellow as butter and on my lips it 
 tasted bitter as death. The dust fires your eyes, fills your ears 
 and makes your nose bleed. After the sun has traveled across 
 the desert all day I have noticed he goes to bed red-eyed from 
 the dust. 
 
 Desert music is diversified, whether it comes from the 
 Oriental howling dervish, the yell of the tiger, the melody of 
 Egypt's Memnon statues, the jingle of the camel-bell, or the 
 wind harping on an animal or human skeleton. 
 
 Solitude and desert are synonymous. Landor called soli- 
 tude the audience chamber of God. It is the meeting place of 
 living and dead. In calm rather than crash, we rightly meas- 
 ure the real value of the things we strive for. John went to 
 the desert to see God face to face and leave the city buried 
 under ritual form and creed. We should open the eyes and 
 ears of our heart to the sights and sounds of nature that 
 speaks of the Creator to the soul as no teacher of books can. 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 95 
 
 John went from the slavery of the city to the freedom of the 
 desert. Silent day here echoes the airy voices of the dead; 
 silvery night bathes the soul in holy quiet, in the desert where 
 the living visit and the dead abide. 
 
 One cannot make a solitude and call it peace, or quiet his 
 restless soul by fleeing to the desert. Sand, rock and cave were 
 no shelter to the ascetic hermit, Rufinus, who fled the surging, 
 sinful society of city life for spiritual safety. He could not 
 get away from himself or the thought of the fair face and 
 form which had fired his dreams and thrilled every nerve of 
 passion. So he left the desert and rushed back again to the city. 
 In Eber's ''Homo Sum," pious Paulus and saintly Stephanus 
 exiled themselves from the charm of the wicked city to the 
 desert sand and silence of solitude. But fastings, prayers and 
 scourgings could not drive out evil desires. Temptation within 
 was stronger than outward ascetic vow. Paulus, betrayed into 
 wrong, traces with dying fingers a request for prayer. Ste- 
 phanus, suddenly meeting an old enemy, forgets forgiveness, 
 clutches him by the throat and goes down over the precipice 
 with him, crying, ''He shall be damned ! He shall be damned !" 
 Flaubert paints a picture of St. Anthony in the desert and his 
 many temptations in dreams to wealth, pleasure and death. 
 
 As we passed Superstition mountain, I seemed to see in 
 the lengthening shadows of the setting sun spectre forms of 
 dusky Apaches galloping along the horizon on their ponies, 
 while the wind echoed their blood-curdling warcry as they 
 swooped down on some warlike tribe or peaceful emigrant to 
 lay them low. 
 
 I have crossed deserts by dromedaries in Africa, bullock- 
 carts in India, but here your packhorse is a Packard. The only 
 camel seen is Camel-Back mountain, and it was at this point 
 that our well behaved car acted strangely. It breathed hard, 
 and moved irregularly and slowly. So near our journey's end, 
 this should have been the last place for it to cut up. Neverthe- 
 less, it did, Fred grew anxious, and found that its life-blood, 
 gasoline, had nearly ebbed away. A camel may do without 
 water in the desert, but an auto must have its gasoline. It was 
 a close call, but the car managed to last until we crossed the 
 sands and reached a relief station in the shape of a farmhouse. 
 
96 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 We hailed a boy, who went to a field where a man was driving 
 a tractor. He returned with a pitcher full of gas, which lasted 
 till we reached Mesa, a filling station, where Fred tanked up. 
 The thirsty machine gassed, he hit her up to 40 miles an 
 hour, to enable some of our passengers to make a train at 
 Phoenix. We rushed madly by Mesa, and then Tempe, dark, 
 dusty, flat and prosaic — not the one of poetic temperament in 
 classic Greece that looked up to Mt. Ossa and Pelion, and 
 through whose vale the river Peneus flowed into the sea. We 
 flew across the state highway bridge over the Salt river, down 
 avenues, outdistancing other autos and speed-cops, and pulled 
 up at the Phoenix depot five minutes before the train left. The 
 ride was wilder than Tam O'Shanter's. So ended this *' day- 
 tour" through the heart of the Apache country, which throbs 
 with beauty, mystery, romance and history — a land not only 
 rich in minerals but in legendary lore. 
 
 The Highland canal, twenty-five miles from Phoenix, showed 
 us what water could do for the desert. The Big water we had 
 seen in the morning was here in the evening, making the desert 
 a rose garden of beauty. There was life, green freshness and 
 productivity, acres of alfalfa, fields of corn, orchards of fruit, 
 plums, peaches, pears, dates and figs, and tall, clean, strong, 
 white balls of cotton from Egyptian seed. It looked like the 
 Nile valley — all it lacked was the pyramids silhouetted in the 
 distance. W^e saw cotton gins, the only kind of gin allowed in 
 dry Arizona j Arizona, the oldest America, but our newest state. 
 
 PHOENIXIANA 
 
 THAT ancient globe-trotter and truthful tale-teller, 
 Herodotus, was the first to write about Phoenix. 
 'Twas a bird of a story, and his flight of fancy 
 has given it in classic winged words. He 
 lays the legend in Heliopolis, the city of the sun 
 — but when I was there I found no light on it. Herodo- 
 tus calmly informs us that once every five hundred years a 
 bird came to Eg>T)t and buried its father in a sanctuary there. 
 
 in an egg made of myrrh. This bird belonged to the order of 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 97 
 
 eagles, a game bird and a high flier, and was covered with red 
 and gold feathers. It grieves me greatly to say that, while I 
 have visited Heliopolis twice, I have missed it both times. 
 
 Mythology, as truthful an historian as Herodotus, says there 
 was only one Phoenix at a time, and when he was ready to die 
 he made a nest out of which a new^ Phoenix grew, the bird com- 
 ing to life in Arabia. There is one other account of Phoenix 
 so abundantly proved by historical eye-witnesses and editors 
 that it is indisputable. It is known that when the Phoenix was 
 dying it threw itself into the flames, and from its burned 
 feathers and bones a new bird arose, stronger and more beauti- 
 ful than the other. 
 
 There are many Phoenixes. The fruit Phoenix, a genus of 
 tropical palm under v/hose fruitful shade we have not time 
 to linger; Phoenix, the southern constellation which Bayer 
 located between Grus and Eridanus, whose brightest star per- 
 formers form a curved line. In the theatre of space these stars 
 sing as they shine up to the listening Gods in the boxes. 
 Then I have sailed by a group of islands called Phoenix, over a 
 thousand miles northeast of cannibal Fiji. I must not forget 
 repeated visits to Phoenix park, Dublin. Here one sees a 
 palatial sward of nearly 2,000 acres. I covered it with a side- 
 open jaunting car whose good-natured jarvey pointed out the 
 zoological garden, Wellington testimonial and Viceregal lodge 
 whose green was blood-stained in 1882 by the foul assassination 
 of Lord Frederick Cavendish, chief secretary of Ireland, and 
 Thomas H. Burke, the under secretary. 
 
 The reason for this digression on Phoenix is because the city 
 of Phoenix, Arizona, which I started to write about, has noth- 
 ing more interesting, to me at least, than the aforesaid enumer- 
 ated things and places suggested by its name. How could one 
 write a classic description of Phoenix without mentioning He- 
 rodotus, the Father of History? The other added digressions 
 are a side-dish to the city's regular menu. 
 
 Phoenix, Arizona, was first established in 1867, near some 
 prehistoric ruins, and moved to its present location in 1870. 
 The old city hall looks as it were one of the ruins brought 
 with them. The town was settled in 1875, but the dust has 
 never been settled. It is an in" dust "rious town. 
 
98 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 The climate is mild, and is a tonic that makes you feel poet- 
 ically Mil-tonic. Phoenix is noted for its South African and 
 Nubian ostriches and American octogenarians. The products 
 are mines, live stock, hay, grain, honey, wine, oranges, cattle 
 ranges, sheep runs and ostrich farms. A commodious and com- 
 fortable insane asylum has been erected here for those who 
 come to Phoenix believeing all the railroads, real estate and 
 mining sharks have told them. 
 
 One remembers Tempe as the haunt of beauty and the gods 
 — but, ye gods ! how he is shocked when he comes here, to find 
 that Tempe, Arizona, has a Grovernment Agricultural Experi- 
 ment Station devoted to the culture of a variety of Morocco 
 dates. 
 
 Here are some bald facts and thoughts about Phoenix — 
 the kind to be expected from a bald-headed writer. The State 
 Capitol is the big show-place of the city. It stands at the end 
 of the palm-shaded Washington street leading to it, like an- 
 other Taj Mahal. Travelers who have seen both will note the 
 great dissimilarity. No doubt it was located so far from town 
 that it might discourage the daily visits of peripatetic politi- 
 cians and office-seekers. It stands in a beautiful grass-green 
 park with trees, flowers, foliage and walks that make it a verita- 
 ble oasis in the desert. Within the domed building are the 
 official offices of the governor and staff, a waiting place for 
 hungry politicians, and a nice lunch-counter within easy reach. 
 Here the ever self-sacrificing patriots may get a hand-me-down 
 sandwich, cup of coffee, cut of pie or cheese without going way 
 home for it and thus wasting much valuable time and car- 
 fare which they are consecrating to their dear country's needs. 
 
 The Water Users Building is just what one expects in a pro- 
 hibition town. It is the headquarters of the U. S. Reclamation 
 service, irrigation system and Roosevelt dam. The Phoenixians 
 have a unique way of sprinkling the streets. All day long men 
 stand on the leading corners, line up along the curbs and ex- 
 pectorate as gentlemen by laying the dust with tobacco juice. 
 This is their respite and Nepenthe. 
 
 Sunday morning I was moved by a sermon given by an old- 
 time Methodist exhorter, but the wildest amusement is the 
 the movies. The Wild West here is now found on the picture 
 
ON THE WARPATH 99 
 
 screen, not on the street. In front of one house there was a 
 poster of Indians holding up a stage-coach. Standing before 
 the poster was a group of Apaches in civilized suits, shoes, felt 
 hats, white shirts and ties. They looked at the colored ad 
 as if wondering whether it were true, or as if they admired 
 their brave ancestors and sadly lamented the quiet civilized 
 state to which they themselves had fallen. 
 
 Buildings such as hotels, banks, theatres, schools, churches 
 are found, but the main building and the most important is 
 the garage. Gasoline is the life-blood of the town. The cow- 
 boy, horse and Apache pony have given way to the auto and 
 chauffeur in the streets. To enter this brightly lighted city 
 from the desert is as great a surprise as the camel-rider in the 
 Sahara feels when he comes to an oasis. Phoenix is a modem 
 caravansary where autos load up on gas, oil, tires, air, elec- 
 tricity and many other necessities. Everywhere you see desert 
 dust-covered Bedouin cars snorting smelly gas, breathing hard, 
 rushing down the streets. On corner lots one finds scores of 
 second-hand and junk autos for sale. They are wrecks from the 
 awful wear and tear of the rough trail desert trips. Sanitari- 
 ums and hospitals have made Phoenix famous, but the auto 
 hospital is the leading institution for tubercular tubes, tired 
 tires, broken bodies, worn-out frames, one-lunged cylinders, 
 battered batteries, degenerate generators, stripped gears, asth- 
 matic horns and motors with loco-motor ataxia. 
 
 Vice-President Marshall, third-term shouter, has a winter 
 home near Phoenix, a good corral for the sub-driver of the 
 Democratic Donkey that brayed so loud in Wisconsin that it 
 scared away its followers and made them rush for Lenroot. 
 
 THE DEATH PENALTY 
 
 AIRIZONA always had Cain descendants, and the fore- 
 I warned traveler was forearmed. Today the red stream 
 of blood flows over its red rocks. It is said that since 
 the abolition of the death penalty for murder homi- 
 cide has increased 100 per cent, and this in spite of the fact 
 
100 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 that prohibition is in effect, save for some lawless bottleggers. 
 Crime is increasing at a big ratio, and the many murders since 
 prohibition went into effect prove that lax law against murder 
 is responsible and that men will run amuck when they know 
 they are not to be punished by the death penalty. 
 
 Sentimental governors, political misrepresentatives and 
 their constituents who vote to abolish capital punishment are 
 particeps criminis to lawless murder. No government is possi- 
 ble without law, law without penalty is nil, and the penalty that 
 does not fit the crime multiplies crime. Fools who profess to 
 be wiser than God, and some knaves pretending to be more 
 tender-hearted than the Redeemer, have ignored the Bible mur- 
 der penalty, of substance in the Old Testament and of spirit 
 in the New Testament, until today in the United States about 
 one murderer out of seventy-four receives the death penalty, 
 and the average life sentence of the murderer is reduced to 
 seven years. 
 
 CIVILIZED SAVAGES 
 
 IN the Phoenix Indian School Uncle Sam has collected, 
 from forty different tribes, members of his original 
 and aboriginal family. Boys and girls, aged 14 to 20, 
 come here for a term of three to five years. It costs 
 the Federal Government over $135,000 annually, but it is a 
 fine investment, and the students are willing to work half the 
 time at books and the other half at practical employment. 
 Time is not frittered away with vacations, but spent in avoca- 
 tions tending to self-support, honor and efficiency in later years. 
 Students must know the three R's, plus a public school course, 
 and, since most of them will not occupy government salaried 
 positions in town, but are destined to live in rural homes in 
 villages, the knowledge of industrial and domestic values is 
 imperative. The boys become farmers and mechanics, the girls 
 housewives. 
 
 Riding out three miles from the city over a flat country, 
 we came to the Indian school, with sky-line mountains in 
 
ON THE WARPATH 101 
 
 the background. It is said that there is no royal road to learn- 
 ing, yet the big double rows of palms made it seem so as they 
 extended their open palms of welcome. 
 
 I met a nut-brown Indian maid who introduced me to Dr. 
 John B. Brown, the superintendent, who gave me information 
 about the institution and a guide to take me about the school 
 grounds and buildings. I saw my first Indian fight in a class- 
 room, where an Apache was murdering the king's English. 
 Some were killing time. The instructor's idea was to teach the 
 pupils how to shoot ideas, and not arrows. From the number 
 of classes round about, I was sure the Redman would be well 
 read. One brave was making a brave attempt to lead a column 
 of figures across the blackboard. 
 
 On the way to the Vocational School, we saw several girls 
 illustrating a lesson on cleanliness by sweeping steps and 
 walks. It is not too sweeping a statement to say that 
 what they were doing was as important as studying 
 Greek. Their dresses were deep blue and matched the 
 sky above them. Their suits were not as scenic as 
 blankets, but much more sanitary, and they made a 
 good picture for some blue prints as the wind blew their 
 hair. In another room girls were sewing, doing millinery 
 and needle work and making hats and dresses. In the audi- 
 torium they learn to make addresses, sing and play, and give 
 their college yell, something far different from a carnage yell. 
 
 Boys in the printshop were setting up type, printing pro- 
 grams, folders and pamphlets. They issue a magazine entitled 
 ^'The Native American." It appeared in attractive type that 
 proves there is a new type of Indian today. They showed me 
 a cut of printer's ''pi." These Indian boys deserve feathers in 
 their caps. The tailor shop was interesting. The boys may 
 not have read Carlyle's ''Sartor Resartus," "Tailor Retail- 
 ored," though some of their brothers may have at the Carlisle 
 Indian School. The suits they made were suitable for school 
 work. 
 
 Apache mental capacity is great, yet their food capacity is 
 greater. Their study course is primary pre-vocational and 
 vocational. Of course, like us, they like the dinner course. 
 When the whistle blew at 12, two separate streams of hungry 
 
1 /\ 
 
 02 ONTHE WARPATH 
 
 humanity poured into the immense dining-room. Students were 
 segregated, boys on one side and girls on the other. They stood 
 at their tables, sang a prayer of thanks in sweet unison, then 
 sat down and fell to keeping time with knives and forks to the 
 music of a graphophone. At the end of the dinig hall there 
 was a large painted motto, ''No Excellence Without Labor," 
 and the pupils illustrated it when they fell to work and gave an 
 excellent performance of eating. The meal was plain, no reason 
 to complain, and there was plenty of wholesome food. There was 
 no vacant seat, or I certainly would have filled it. We went out 
 to the kitchen and spoke to the Indian cooks and butchers. 
 The chef had a class of boys, and his chef d'oeuvre was a large 
 chart of a beef, with its choice cuts named and numbered, a 
 sort of a map with lines to make it go as far as possible. 
 
 An item in one of their magazines stated that an Apache 
 had found a five-dollar bill on the school campus and turned it 
 over to the owner. It would seem that his education is not yet 
 complete or equal to that of his white brothers. 
 
 These Indian students were patriotic in buying Liberty 
 Bonds to help the Great White Father. They were enlisting and 
 investing in the R-ed Cross service. The widow, Azul Geronimo, 
 and son of the old crafty and cruel Geronimo who for so long 
 was an unholy terror to Uncle Sam, have bought Liberty Bonds 
 at the government reservation near Tularosa, N. M. 
 
 A study of the Indian problem shows that some of the old 
 primitive savages are left ; that two-thirds have given up old 
 customs for modern dress, making a loss to the artist but a 
 gain to the tailor; and that one-third attend church. There are 
 over 300,000 Indians in the United States, included in 217 tribes 
 and bands. Oklahoma is the big Indian state, with more than 
 100,000 Indians. Arizona coming next with 42,000. 
 
 The word ''Apache" meant "enemy," according to Zuni. 
 They were warlike and powerful and always in war with the 
 whites. They surrendered in 1886 and were deported to Flor- 
 ida and Alabama, where they underwent military imprison- 
 ment. The Apaches are of Athabascan stock, and there is a 
 mixture with Spanish blood, due to captives. They were thieves 
 and murderers from the middle of the sixteenth century. Be- 
 tween 1870 and 1886 there were violent outbreaks under such 
 
ONTHE WARPATH 103 
 
 braves as Cachise, Victorio, Geronimo, Nana and Nakaidoklini, 
 when several hundred whites in Mexico and New Mexico 
 were killed and their property stolen. As late as 1900 the 
 Apaches made a murderous raid on the Mormon settlers in 
 Chihuahua. 
 
 Apache blood was good in Geronimo — it was better in Dr. 
 Carlos Montaguina, who was full-blooded and an educated 
 doctor at several government Indian agencies, later a doctor in 
 Chicago, and a professor in the College of Physicians and Sur- 
 geons. His career was scientific, and instead of the tomahawk 
 he wielded the scalpel. The doctor believed in education. It 
 was high time to teach his tribe English, when the word for 
 stove polish in the Indian tongue is ''Deyeknonhsedehrihadas- 
 terasterahetakwa. ' ' 
 
 Apache Geronimo was too wily for General Crook, and led 
 him a wild warpath chase. Finally General Nelson A. Miles 
 was appointed. Day and night he chased the Apaches through 
 desert and mountain, till at last he cornered and captured them. 
 Geronimo and his chiefs were taken to Port Sill as military 
 prisoners. This was the end of the Apache warpath. 
 
 A SAVAGE ATTACK 
 
 IHARLES DICKENS raises the dickens in his ''Noble 
 Savage" when he tells what he thinks about the In- 
 dian, though what he satirically said of the Redman 
 then may be applied to his civilized white brother 
 now. This diatribe on the savage tribe is a flattering picture 
 of the human race. He declares the Indian is savage, cruel, 
 false, thievish, murderous ; addicted to beastly customs ; a wild 
 animal with the questionable gift of boasting; a conceited, 
 tiresome, bloodthirsty, monotonous humbug, squatting, sitting, 
 spitting, and dancing miserable jigs ; no pleasure in anything 
 but a war of extermination ; diabolical, with no moral feelings 
 of any kind, sort or description; lazy and makes his women 
 work. The novelist concludes, ''His virtues are a fable, his 
 happiness a delusion, his nobility nonsense ; he passes away 
 
104 ON THE V7ARPATH 
 
 before an immeasurably higher and better power than ever 
 ran wild in any earthly woods, and the world will be all the 
 better when his place knows him no more.'' 
 
 The Indian believes that after death his faithful dog will 
 keep him company in the Happy Hunting Ground. I am savage 
 brute enough to declare that I would much rather spend enter- 
 nity with my faithful, little, white, obedient and affectionate 
 dog that died two years ago than with some human cynics I 
 know who run on our streets unmuzzled, snarling, barking and 
 biting everyone they meet. 
 
 In dress, the Indian loves to wear feathers and paint, ex- 
 pose his breast, arms and legs. There are others. 
 
 His chief delight is to smoke, sit around and spit. Are 
 there no signs of this high art in clubs, corner curbs, grocery 
 stores and streetcar platforms? Then, too, he has devil dances 
 to harsh music, but not half so devilish as some modern society 
 rags to jazz accompaniments. His dances are usually religious, 
 which cannot be said of any of ours. 
 
 He believes in a Great Spirit ; worships the sun, symbolizing 
 force and power. This is better than those who worship the 
 trinity of pelf, power and pleasure. He believes in the medi- 
 cine man — so do city folks — there is nothing strange about that. 
 There is a place for Totemism in his creed, for he believes in 
 the family and individual guardian spirits; so do many other 
 little society folks, who always "tote" in the spirits of their 
 famous ancestors. 
 
 The word "pow-wow" to the Indian meant to heal with 
 noise and dancing. We ridicule the idea, but what of our 
 noisy political pow-wows, when, instead of burying the hatchet, 
 we get out our knives and tomahawks ? 
 
 In art, he is decorative and symbolic, his decorations show- 
 ing geometric designs on textiles, baskets, pottery and em- 
 broidery. Mentally and socially considered, his characteristics 
 are sullen, tacit, weary and impassive. The old Indian's idea 
 of education never included an institution of learning where 
 man scientifically learned to kill, torture, deceive and destroy. 
 The Redman is a believer in home, and his social and political 
 body is based on the family idea. The social unit was the head 
 man or chief. These units made a tribe and were governed by 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 105 
 
 a council where each tribe was represented. The man and 
 woman each has property, the mother's inherited by the chil- 
 dren, the father's going back to the tribe. 
 
 The Indian's vices were primitive and coarse. He learned 
 his refined vices from the white man, such as cheating, drink- 
 ing and gambling. Of course, it is a sad affliction that the In- 
 dian lives out in the open where he can breathe, run, and see the 
 the stars and mountains, instead of cooping himself up in a 
 sooty, stuffy city and jailing himself in a flat. But then, he is 
 only a savage, thank the Lord! 
 
 ARIZONA'S FOSSIL FORESTS 
 
 ARIZONA is A-No. 1 in scenery. The Petrified Forest 
 is in Apache county, where Nature has gone on the 
 warpath and leveled her giant trees. I had seen all 
 kinds of human fossils and was anxious to view the 
 more interesting vegetable ones of a petrified forest. 
 
 We left Phoenix at sunset and saw the sun rise on a desert 
 wrapped in a blanket of snow. The Painted Desert was done 
 in white, and the cactus was blossoming with snowballs. While 
 our train stopped at a wayside station, an Indian entered our 
 car with an armful of earthenware pottery. As a souvenir col- 
 lector, I was ready to buy one for my wife. As I was about to 
 ask for one, he began to unload and distribute them one under 
 each seat. To my chagrin, I found they were nothing but cus- 
 pidors. Since I was not a consumptive, it was unnecessary to 
 purchase one. 
 
 We got off at Adamana, a Lonelyville-looking place, and the 
 only sign I saw of a petrified forest was a large painted one on 
 a shed roof reading, *' Petrified Forest Six Miles." The train 
 pulled out, no one got off except our party, and we stood lone- 
 some and forlorn until a tall blonde man with cowboy hat and 
 boots approached. He picked up our bags and, like Anna Held, 
 said, ''Follow Me." This we gladly did until we came to a long, 
 low building resembling a Scotch manse, built by Mr. C. B. 
 Campbell with no hump on it. The logs were burning in the 
 
106 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 grate and great petrified logs were on the porch, as well as in 
 the rooms arrayed with Indian curios and souvenirs. We had 
 a savage appetite, and it was appeased by an Apache belle, a 
 ringer of a cook who had the wild Indian name "Josephine." 
 She stealthily moved in and out, serving us with oatmeal, bacon, 
 eggs, pancakes, bread and coffee. Ye gods and ghosts of this 
 mysterious region, this Indian descendant of thine was worthy 
 of thee ! 
 
 I asked the name of my host proprietor, and he answered 
 that when he was a cowpuncher it was ' ' Rawhide Bill. ' ' I later 
 learned that he was a professor, artist, astronomer, geologist 
 and traveler, and that his name was Nelson, a common name 
 of a most uncommon man. He confessed he came to the desert 
 to escape the aristocratic society in his own country. He pre- 
 ferred to herd cattle here rather than to live with human cattle 
 over there ; the stars in the sky to those on the stage, and the 
 barren desert to the empty brain. 
 
 The petrified forests were not standing up, but lying down, 
 and we couldn't see where they were or how to get there. So 
 our scientific expedition started out with an auto, gun, broom, 
 shovel, two kodaks, and plenty of enthusiasm. For rugs and 
 robes we had Navajo blankets. Their red color was warm, 
 though the sharp wind shot arrows through them. We pulled 
 out in the snow, by shrubs and bushes wearing white snow 
 blankets, then passed across the mesa, level as Minnesota, to- 
 ward a table-land. Suddenly the car slid down toward a little 
 gulley, and I yelled, "Stop! the bridge is out!"- — for I could 
 only see two small parallel boards across it and all was open 
 between. The professor said this was the way they built 
 bridges here, so the cattle could not cross, though an auto 
 might. It was a slippery and shaky trip, yet we got over. He 
 said that was easy. Then we came to a big river bed, and this 
 time we didn't hit the wood rails right, and slipped through, 
 but stopped before we went over the bank. We shoveled snow 
 and sand, the wheels stuck and we made a non-skid chain of 
 ropes. Finally extraction followed suppressed execration ; 
 we got on the wood track, and were soon over — but not over 
 our trouble, for there appeared the annoying difficulty of a 
 hill looking like a young iceberg. Here we indulged in the 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 107 
 
 Norway sport of chugging up and sliding back, something that 
 would have made a good hit in a comedy film. It was far from 
 funny to us, who felt we would be hit hard if thrown out. Up 
 at last, and the only spectator who saw us cross this Alps was 
 a cowardly coyote, who slunk away as we came over the top. 
 Alas ! we had arrived too late ! This desert dog, carrion scav- 
 enger, whose ancestors would eat anything the Indians left, had 
 committed foul murder. There on the white snow lay a dead, 
 pudgy porcupine, his warm blood staining the snow as it oozed 
 from his throat where the razor teeth of the coyote had bitten 
 through. He had put up a good fight, judged by the number 
 of quills scattered around. I hope Mr. Coyote's nose resem- 
 bled a pincushion. Rawhide Bill said, ** Alas, poor Porcupine, 
 I knew him well, for he lived down in the ravine spanned by a 
 bridge formed of a monarch petrified tree, and was always 
 around when visitors came to see the sights." Bill's gun was 
 loaded, and he would gladly have avenged the murder of his 
 quondam quill friend. 
 
 This natural petrified log bridge is one of the most inter- 
 esting things here. It spans a chasm 60 feet wide, a precious 
 stone bridge of agate and jasper that the Revelator John 
 would have admired. Time v/as the contractor who built it, and 
 it required centuries. I think our Third Avenue bridge in Min- 
 neapolis was built under the same contract. The years and sea- 
 sons have passed over this log bridge, and the only repairs 
 necessary have been an undercoating of cement to keep the 
 portions of cracked trunk from falling down and in. I have 
 walked over wet river logs, but this was as slippery, and the 
 fall would have been worse, for there was an ice pool beneath. 
 
 In this First Forest are the deposit remains of petrified 
 wood, from an agate chip of an inch in size to trunks and 
 branches 200 feet long. These forests are over 5,000 feet above 
 sea level, and are famous for their color. Scattered about 
 through the desert, they look as though the arch of a rainbow 
 had fallen down and smashed to bits. 
 
 The weather was bad, we breathed hard, the auto took a 
 bad cold and coughed all the way for two and a half miles to 
 the next forest. Leaving Eagle's Nest, Snow Lady and Dew- 
 ey's Canyon, we saw the table-lands where Nature has spread 
 
108 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 a variety of colors for the eye to devour. The Second Forest 
 contains about 2,000 acres. Hundreds of broken trees, scat- 
 tered in the snow, resembled giant clinkers of coal dropped 
 out of the fiery furnace of the sun. The Twin Sisters here are 
 very old girls, stony-hearted and very interesting. "We trudged 
 our way through the snow to the hilltop where stands a pavil- 
 ion, a four-square wooden building with open sides and roof. 
 What a place for a picnic ! The tables had a coverlet of snow, 
 on which were appetizingly placed chunks of petrified rock 
 nearly as hard as some of the biscuits I have eaten at Sunday 
 school picnics. After looking at an empty green bottle and 
 other refreshments, we strolled out to interview the remains of 
 the fossil forest. 
 
 One large, crimson-colored rock looked like a butcher-block 
 where Time had been killed. Another slab resembled a slice 
 of tough steak. I climbed a huge pulpit rock, where, instead 
 of making remarks, my only eloquence was silence. Stump 
 speeches should be fluent, but on this stump I was stumped for 
 words. The snow was a blessing in 'disguise. Usually the rock 
 colors are dusty and gray, but the sun melted the snow on the 
 face of the rock, making it flush wdth clean red beauty. This 
 was the flrst time I ever saw a wet log glow with hidden fire. 
 The colors of the Fall are brilliant, but those of these fallen 
 trees are indescribable. With a broom as a brush, I smeared the 
 snow over the stones, securing greater color effects than any 
 brush wielded hy Turner or Titian. The rock became a petri- 
 fied pallette of yellow, blue and green stone. In the heart of 
 one stone trunk was the perfect form of a red cross, proving 
 that long ago this sister tree was a Red Cross member in good 
 standing. Scores of trunks were packed with stones precious 
 to the scientist. 
 
"NING PO," PIRATE SLAVE SHIP 
 
 CATALINA 
 
LANDING A 480-POUND SEA BASS 
 
 NEWPORT BEACH, CALIFORNIA 
 
ONTHE WARPATH 109 
 
 HARDWOOD QUESTIONS 
 
 jS a boy, I often had to saw wood, and it was hard 
 work. I saw this, the hardest wood I ever saw, and 
 I wondered who cut these trees, and how. 
 
 This is the only forest primeval coeval ^ith crea- 
 tion. Maybe these trees grew in the Garden of Eden. Were 
 Adam and Eve here as caretakers? Did the serpent beguile 
 them here? Were monkeys at home in the higher branches? 
 Did ancestral apes swing in these treetops? Were they used as 
 hitching posts for dinosaurs ? Did any ancient Rosalind carve 
 her name upon the bark? These trees are older than history. 
 No sign is necessary here of "Woodman, spare that tree," for 
 they are tree-mendously hard and would turn any edge. 
 
 The sacred Bo of Ceylon is one of the world's oldest trees. 
 I have seen the olives of Gethsemane, cedars of Lebanon, red- 
 woods in the Yosemite, but these trees are earth's oldest set- 
 tlers. Royalty and wealth collect antiques of jewelry, paint- 
 ing, statuary, furniture, and lace, but these petrified trees are 
 the true antiquities. 
 
 Mythology speaks of trees that talk — if only these trees 
 had tongues to tell of perished centuries and generations spent 
 and dead. Who courted under them? Did the extinct dodo 
 bird perch in their branches? What ancient Warner made 
 them a back-log study? I pity the tramp who had to cut this 
 wood to earn his breakfast. 
 
 Babes were lost in the woods and though these trees are 
 down, without your guide you would be lost in the desert. 
 We were already lost in wonder and speculation. 
 
 In the Third Forest there are hundreds of trees more than 
 200 feet long and of rainbow colored agate. Some of these 
 logs would make lovely fireplace ornaments. The Blue Forest, 
 with its blue tint of trees, was discovered by Professor Muir. 
 This region has been a government preserve, or national mon- 
 ument, since 1906 and is protected against spoliation or theft. 
 You are allowed a few souvenirs for yourself and by special 
 permission, may secure larger ones for museums and institu- 
 tions. 
 
no ON THE WARPATH 
 
 These trees are a log-jam whicli has floated down the 
 stream of time — the only one they could float on. It is a shade- 
 less forest, a poor place for a picnic. The only shade is one of 
 color and the past. Birds do not nest or sing in these stone 
 trees ; no winds murmur through their boughs. There is no fuel 
 in the trunks — they are fossil and petrified like some heads of 
 the Fuel Administration. 
 
 What fury felled this forest? These monoliths look like 
 columns that some fabulous Samson had pulled down. The 
 only will-o'-the-wisp that hovers over these *'putrified" logs 
 (as my Pullman porter called them) is the fire of Fancy. "What 
 nomadic Nimrod hunted here, and what? What prehistoric 
 bugologist or botanist took specimens from the trees? A blast 
 of wind once might have knocked over these trees ; only dyna- 
 mite can do it now. Time's tooth, which devours all, will get 
 an ache or break if it tackles these trunks. Hercules had some 
 hard tasks, and it would have been a difficult one to have 
 built a log-cabin from these materials. There are hard woods 
 like hickory, oak, iron and lignite, but, with the exception of 
 some wood in the Washington Administration Cabinet, these 
 trees are the hardest I ever saw. A woodpecker would frac- 
 ture his beak on them at the first peck. Why not use these 
 forests for our new stone warships? 
 
 The Gorgon was a fabled monster of antiquity. Did it 
 make this forest its home and, with the hard glance of its goo- 
 goo eyes, turn these trees to stone? These stonj^ scenes recall 
 the fable of the enchanted palace of Arabia where everything 
 was stricken with a marble paralysis. 
 
 The forest has been excavated and its dead brought to light 
 by the tireless diggers of sun, whirling sand, wind and rain. 
 Lying in the basin bed of a once old sea, these chips, blocks and 
 trunks that sparkle like jewels are from the earliest genealog- 
 ical tree — it is a knotty question how old they are. Sterne said 
 he could love a tree in the desert — ^how would he feel here 
 where there are acres of them, quarries of onyx and marble? 
 Against this tree bark scientists have barked their shins. Some 
 say they always grew here and then settled down half a mile. 
 Once they were about 240 feet high, and may have been laid low 
 by cyclone, freshet and submergence. Then they were covered 
 
ON THE WARPATH 111 
 
 by a volcanic sea. Pressure changed the firewood to flint. The 
 fall of the trees was orderly, not as if by wind or water, but 
 thrown by an earthquake moving south from the crest of the 
 continent. Later there was a cross-cut by frosts and shocks, 
 then they became fossilized and afterward broken. To be plain, 
 ''Some time during the stupendous subsidences of the Jurassic 
 Period, this prone Mesozoic forest sank to where the vast later 
 sediments of the Cretaceon Era could wash down upon it a 
 mile deep." Into this tree fibre pressure pumped solutions of 
 silica, paste of chalcedony, springs of salt, copper, iron and sul- 
 phur. Some pressure, suggesting what is brought to bear on 
 newspapers to distort, politics to deceive, business to sv/indle, 
 lovers to court on park benches, or church committees to steal 
 a pastor from one church and then throw him out to none. 
 
 Science then points us to the Tertiary Age when this forest, 
 dead asleep in its rocky bed, was called up like Lazarus, with 
 its sand shrouds upon it, which in later eons were removed by 
 hands of erosion and corrosion, those twin brothers of de- 
 struction. 
 
 So, today, after an age mathematics cannot number, on a 
 mile plain so high that geologists stumble, surrounded by cliffs 
 150 feet high, with cut ravines and sloping mesas painted with 
 sandstone, clay and shale, the forest has come up to look at 
 the light and listen to the breeze as it had so long ago that 
 only the eternal Creator knows when. Father Time, now bent 
 and wearing a long beard, must have been a small, smooth- 
 faced kid when these trees lived. Serene thev were, and are, 
 and will be when you and I are dust, and the memories of prs- 
 ent nations, with their wealth, war, power and learning, are a 
 mere myth or a child's fairy tale. 
 
 Leaving this Stonehenge and Stone Age, we chugged back 
 to the hotel with pockets full of specimens and a mind full of 
 memories. The sun had turned the snow-covered bushes into 
 fountains of running jewels colored like the agate and quartz 
 we had just left. After a successful attack on the dinner, we 
 started on a scouting tour to see the many warpath curios 
 collected in the hotel and museum by Mr. Campbell and Nelson. 
 
 There were bows, arrows, knives, blankets, rugs, dolls, belts, 
 tomahawks, eagles, beads, wampum, flint, arrow-heads, feathers, 
 
112 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 moccasins, baskets, pottery, and many other things that ap- 
 pealed to the Apache's heart and the tourist pocketbook. We 
 mused in this museum, regarding it as an illustrated history 
 of the Apache tribes. Here a single doll or arrow summed up 
 a tribe's love or hate, all widely written on by savants and 
 sages whose dust-covered books lie unread in the libraries. 
 Yet, how small and ephemeral all these relics seemed compared 
 with the relics of the departed world we had just left. Why, 
 even this earth clod of ours is but a child's toy in the museum 
 of space filled with millions of worlds. 
 
 THE ''ROLE" OP THE DRUM 
 
 THE most interesting and valuable relic we saw was 
 an ancient Indian war drum, made from a sheepskin 
 stretched over a hollowed out log, the original bark 
 covering the sides. It had been in the possession of 
 an illustrious Indian, who, when dying, gave it to a white 
 trader who had helped him. The tribe later tried to get it 
 back, but in vain; and no man's money has yet tempted it 
 away from Adamana. I looked at it, thumped it and listened 
 to the echo of its beating heart, a heart with a language all 
 its own. 
 
 When a small boy, I remember how Johnny came marching 
 home and we all felt gay. The soldiers came in freight cars 
 from Washington. I used to run by the side of the railroad 
 tracks and give them sugar and cake from the pantry in ex- 
 change for hardtack and canteen souvenirs. But it was their 
 drums that fired my heart. On several occasions I was per- 
 mitted to play them, and when they went away I wanted one 
 for myself. The family naturally and wisely objected, for I 
 was already too strenuous, and a drum would be unendurable. 
 Feeling that life had little enjoyment, I recorded my disap- 
 pointment by scratching my name on the piai_o legs. Later I 
 found the legs of an old baby chair which I improvised into 
 drumsticks. We neighbor boys made a procession, and from 
 morning to night it was *' rub-a-dub-dub" on barrels, kettles, 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 113 
 
 fences, stoops and doors. We received all kinds of expressions 
 from the public in the shape of water, ashes, oaths and watch- 
 dogs, but took our chances and, like Macduff, laid on, with no 
 profane '* enough" until under the head of a public nuisance 
 we were all threatened with arrest. If the officer on this beat 
 had not been a member of my father's church he would have 
 clubbed us into silence or tempered our ardor in the cooler. 
 
 These were my earliest impressions of a drum. Later in 
 world-wide travel I have seen and heard all the drums big 
 and little, round, cylindrical, high and low, loud and soft, 
 queer and weird, played by head, hand and foot, played fast 
 and slow in life and death, peace and war, played by savage 
 and by civilized man in the desert or orchestra hall. 
 
 Savages, whose natural argument was a blow on the head 
 to beat out their enemies* brains, naturally fell into a per- 
 cussion style of music and invented the drum, often the sole 
 as well as the chief musical instrument. The drum figures 
 in this world from religion to ragtime — from the Salvation 
 Army to the jazz band. The history of the drum is not hum- 
 drum. 
 
 Music is a universal language and the despised, unmusical 
 drum has a polyglot tongue. All other musical instruments 
 have their speech of sentiment, love and emotion, but the 
 voice of the drum knows the eloquent language of liberty 
 and can get more volunteers for God, home and native land 
 than all the orators. The roll of the drum, like that of the 
 sea, fills the soul's shore-line and its every bay and gulf. 
 Heine says that the history of the storming of the Bastile 
 cannot be correctly understood until we know how the drum- 
 ming was done. The French Le Grand taught him on a drum 
 all French and modern history. 
 
 The reveille of the drum means that it is time to get up, 
 and there is a fable of its resurrection meaning in the old 
 legend of soldiers, fallen in battle, who by night rose from 
 the grave in the battle field, and with drummer at their head, 
 marched back to their native home. 
 
 There is a pathetic story in French history of Napoleon's 
 nameless drummer-boy being swept from the ranks, by the 
 sudden dash of an avalanche, into an Alpine valley. He was 
 
114 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 uninjured and the drum still hung suspended from his neck. 
 He waved his hands to the soldiers 200 feet above him and 
 began to drum, playing the tattoo, the reveille, the advance 
 and the charge. But there was no time to rescue him, the 
 soldiers passed on and the last thing they heard in the clear 
 cold air was the beat of a funeral march. Then the little 
 drummer boy lay on the snow bank to die with the snow 
 for his shroud and the falling night for his pall. For years 
 the veterans of the Italian campaign hushed their voices at 
 the campfire, as they told the story of Napoleon's drummer- 
 boy whose slender body lay frozen beside his drum in the 
 silent solitudes of the snowy Alps. 
 
 Deborah's timbrel was a sort of drum. The old tom-tom 
 I have heard at an Indian snake-charming, doubtless had its 
 counterpart in Egypt in 1600 B. C, and I have listened to that 
 same noise in modern Cairo. The dull sound that waked my 
 dreams in the Alhambra was from a drum the Moors had 
 brought from the East after a crusade. 
 
 The ear-drum recognizes the sound of a drum whether 
 the instrument is side, snare, bass or kettle. In patriotic art 
 we have the spirit of '76. Germany has used the drum as a 
 favorite means to raise recruits — we have done it against her 
 and by God's grace, will give her a drum-head court martial 
 before long. The drum now thrills and throbs with the 
 words ** enlist, enlist," though the world is waiting for the 
 time Tennyson speaks of, ''When the war-drum throbs no 
 longer." 
 
 The drum is the heart-beat of a liberty-loving humanity. 
 The Fourth of July drum recalls the spirit of 1917 when 
 Uncle Sam started to make the world habitable and we prayed 
 that the drum-sticks of the American eagle might beat out 
 the brains of Germany's two-headed vulture; recalls the spirit 
 of the Spanish War to give Cuba and the Philippines human 
 rights; recalls the War of the Rebellion for the union of all 
 creeds, colors and conditions; recalls the war of Mexico for a 
 square deal for Americans which they are not receiving to- 
 day; recalls the war of 1812 for free commerce of our ships 
 upon the high seas ; recalls the war of 1776 for liberty by the 
 noble colonists whom our present pacifist Secretary of War 
 
ON THE WARPATH 115 
 
 paid tribute to as tramps and thieves. I believe in the drum. 
 Can you beat it? Hurrah, for Uncle Sam, the drum-major 
 of the world in the march for freedom of body, mind and 
 soul, always and everj^where. 
 
 AUTO STOPS 
 
 |F only the roads to learning in California were as 
 royal and smooth as the auto one from Los Angeles 
 to San Diego ! Leaving Santa Ana, we passed 
 through overturned walnut orchards. Was it the re- 
 sult of an earthquake or had a storm blown them over? No. 
 They had been torn up to make room for lima and navy beans 
 for the army and navy. The orchards and vinej^ards I looked 
 for in the valleys along the route, were not there — everything 
 was beans, just beans. Why? Because there was more money 
 in it. Uncle Sam was willing to pay the price and his slogan 
 was ** Beans will win the war." Then, too, prohibition on 
 economical as well as ethical grounds, had changed the point 
 of view. Future poets of California will revise their verses, 
 and instead of singing praises to Bacchus, the god of the 
 grape, and Pomona, the presiding goddess of the fruit trees, 
 they will fall to celebrating the plebeian bean which the wise 
 Greek philosopher Pythagoras urged this followers to abstain 
 from. His admonition was later expressed in the Latin ''Nota 
 Bene," translated **not a bean." 
 
 We looked in the direction of Modjeska's majestic home. 
 It had an excellent stage setting of Saddle Back, Canyon and 
 ocean. One looks for tropical climate in this Southern Cali- 
 fornia, but in an auto going forty miles an hour and an ocean 
 wind as many more, it was not difficult to imagine we were 
 members of the Peary party in search of the North Pole. 
 Travellers who come to California to see beautiful, and at 
 times sublime scenery of the ocean shore and surf-beaten rock, 
 the curve of hill and dent of vale from Los Angeles to San 
 Diego, may get an occasional glimpse of it through the small 
 isin-glass window of the flapping auto-curtain. It was only by 
 
116 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 begging and bribing that we could see what we had come so 
 far for. The chauffeur explained it was customary to keep 
 the auto battened up like a ship in a storm. On other rides 
 to beaches the drivers were not so obliging and refused to lift 
 the stage curtain hiding the superb views. 
 
 Of course, if you don't like this, you may go by boat, train 
 or private auto, but not owning any of these we went by 
 stage. The cars are large and strong and the chauffeurs skill- 
 ful, all of which is evidenced by the large number of passen- 
 gers they pack in one car, piling up the bags and bundles 
 around them. There is some pleasure in a front seat even if 
 three are crowded into it, one occupying half of yours and the 
 driver's lap. When you are in the back seat, however, and 
 five adults and three children are sardined around you, one's 
 mind is necessarily diverted from the scenery. 
 
 This Camino Eeal auto road was first laid out by the padres 
 as a way to their missions. It is far from being a pious path 
 now. Autos rush up and down like Satanic Jehus, in 
 spite of warning signs to go slow. "We had a close call on a 
 steep grade curve and passed many evidences of auto wrecks 
 due to auto-intoxication, that subjective state of mind induced 
 by the mania of speed, spirits and recklessness. There are 
 houses and hotel resorts along the route, high and low like the 
 ocean tide, in front of them. 
 
 The Torrey pines, the last of their race in exile on the 
 cliffs, sadly waved their five-spine fingers to us as we passed. 
 They are literally pining away as they gaze out sorrowfully 
 to the sea. 
 
 La JoUa is well known for its ocean caves which are in- 
 viting to a picnicker, or to Polyphemus, that old Cyclops that 
 devoured some of Ulysses' (not Grant's) companions on their 
 return from Troy (not New York.) Don't you remember 
 how Poly was thirsty as well as hungry, and drank some 
 very strong wine (not California) and when drunk was in 
 good shape to have Ulysses punch out his eye with a burning 
 pole? Delightful pleasantries, these. Out from the shore- 
 there is a large rock that suggests the big stone Cyclops hurled 
 at Ulysses who gave him the laugh when sailing from the 
 
ON THE WARPATH 117 
 
 shore. According to a literal Greek translation of Homer's 
 classic, he said, "This is what you get for your dirty work — 
 I'm the guy who closed your lamp." 
 
 Along the route we met many interesting people, among 
 them the son of Ulysses S. Grant who gave the Cyclops of 
 slavery a black eye ; and the queen of a Gypsy camp who 
 hailed us with bright smile and dress and was anxious to tell 
 our fortunes. 
 
 SAN DIEGO, NOW AND THEN 
 
 Ian DIEGO dates from 1835. It is the oldest munici- 
 pality in California. Its mild and equable climate 
 makes it a national resort. The land-locked harbor 
 of 20 square miles makes it second only to 'Frisco. 
 We found the Exposition Park of 14,000 acres had been given 
 over to the sailors. The soldiers were at Fort Rosecrans. San 
 Diego exports fruit, olive oil and citric acid. Gold and gems 
 are found nearby. 
 
 Tia Juana, Mexico, is just across the line, and it was for- 
 bidden to step across without a passport. Nevertheless dif- 
 ferent auto men said they could get us across and I met some 
 people who had just been over. But our government had for- 
 bidden it and that was enough for me, since I never was a law- 
 breaker. Besides, the year before I had seen all of Mexico 
 I cared to. Years ago I found Tia Juana a city of chance, 
 drink, fist, cock and bull fights, and other Mexican virtues. 
 
 Next morning we visited a sort of municipal museum of 
 some of the good things of the surrounding country. The 
 big world's exposition park had been captured by the sailors, 
 but the exposition of them drilling was the best exhibit the 
 big beautiful park had ever witnessed. Mission Cliff Gar- 
 dens are very attractive and the valley below unrolls a splen- 
 did panorama. At the ostrich farm the keeper put some of 
 the birds into a race to show us they could do something more 
 than grow *'fine feathers." 
 
118 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 There is a beautiful palm park and fountain in the Plaza 
 opposite the Grant Hotel. It is a place to bake and loaf and be 
 comfortable if one has a bun on. Ploboes filled the outlying 
 benches, but kept as far away as possible from the fountain 
 in the Plaza centre. Later the city gave warning that unless 
 they found work it would give them a free auto ride out of 
 town. 
 
 Old Town, San Diego, has many first editions of many in- 
 teresting things — the first olive press, the first brick house, 
 the first jail and the first cross planted by the brown-robed 
 Franciscan, Junipero Serra. In 1769 he established the first 
 chain of 21 Mission links, a chain of spiritual slavery among 
 the Indians that has since been broken, and is now viewed 
 as a relic by the tourist, and ony interesting as such. The 
 palm tree here was planted 147 years ago, but the best thing 
 ever raised here was the American flag by General Fremont 
 in 1846. 
 
 The old mission church bells still ring of the Castilian belle, 
 Eamona Gonzoga, the simple sweet girl whom Helen Hunt 
 Jackson has made the heroine of her historical and hyster- 
 ical novel. We visited Ramona's Marriage Place. If all the 
 world loves a lover, that part of it which comes to San Diego 
 is anxious to come here. As in Latin America the church has 
 built up shrines on the baseless fabric of some holy fairy 
 tale to get the money from the poor peon, so here this Place 
 has been built around Ramona's marriage until it has become 
 a museum and exhibition by the church of halos and prayer 
 sticks; paintings of the Holy Trinity, Father Joseph and the 
 Christ Child, the Soul of the Virgin, the Virgin of Guada- 
 lupe ; bead work, Santa Maria, an old crucifix, the treasures 
 of old Father Horton and religious pictures and histories. 
 Among this pious deposit is much profane stuff of Indian 
 curios — carettas, Spanish ovens, a crystal gazing ball, and an 
 arbor rest of green grape vine from Napoleon's tomb at St. 
 Helena. In superstitious keeping with all this is the "Wishing 
 Well where you drop a coin and drink a drop with the good 
 luck wish to come here again. Trees, fruits and flowers were 
 an interesting and refreshing diversion. The Old Plaza was 
 
ON THE WARPATH 119 
 
 an ancient bull-ring and the tourists are bulled here now. 
 At Old Town Californian civilization was born, though now 
 it has escaped the ecclesiastical danger of its childhood. 
 
 < ( 
 
 THEOSOPHISTRY" 
 
 |N auto whirled us to Point Loma, where is situated 
 the Theosophical Homestead. The Government now 
 occupies the point,and this is as near the point of 
 Theosophy as I ever reached. I was no nearer in 
 Benares at Annie Besant's Hindu college v/here the students 
 were expected to combine athletic with mental and moral 
 culture. According to report the ''moral" phase had been 
 exchanged for a post-graduate course in corrupting practices 
 that lead the British government to censure her and withdraw 
 her boy pupils. 
 
 This doctrine of theosophy, ''wisdom concerning God," 
 has had a long journey from India to Point Loma and a tough 
 time to reach us poor ignorant mortals. The dictionary de- 
 fines it as a god-knowledge, a system of religion that comes 
 by ecstasy or direct intuition ; an intercourse with God and 
 superior spirits and consequent attainment of superhuman 
 knowledge, by physical processes, as by the theurgic opera- 
 tions of some ancient Platonists, or by the chemical processes 
 of the German fire philosophers. This should be clear to all 
 those who are willing to accept every book but the Bible, and 
 every Saviour but Mary's blessed Son, on the ground that 
 there is so much "mystery." 
 
 Madam Blavatsky brought this ethereal doctrine from 
 Thibet to New York desiring to accomplish three things, "To 
 unite humanity in a universal brotherhood ; to show the essen- 
 tial union of religions; to develop the latent spiritual powers 
 of mankind." She professed to be in on the "occult" secrets 
 of Eastern devotees and in her "Isis Unveiled" lifts the lid 
 off ancient science and theology. Believing it to be a good 
 thing that should be passed along, she and Colonel Olcott car- 
 ried it over to India for a propaganda. It later found soil 
 in Europe. Then she died and her Elijah mantle fell on 
 Annie Besant. 
 
120 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 So far from having divine wisdom from God, the leaders 
 did not know enough to get along together with man and 
 woman. Breaches were made in the various branches of the 
 society that claimed to be in touch with some unknown respon- 
 sible master. Finally Mrs. Tingley laid her hands on the 
 American society's branch, the organization withered, and is 
 thought by many to be more private than national, earthly 
 than heavenly and financial than spiritual. 
 
 The Point Loma lighthouse was put down below from point 
 above on account of the fog that obscured it, making it im- 
 possible for vessels to enter the harbor. Even so there is 
 so much psychometric phenomena fog about this astral light 
 theosophy — it is so high up in its soul and secret science, so 
 mixed up w^ith Buddhism, Brahmanism, Pythagoreanism, 
 Greek mysteries, Isis worship of the Eoman Empire, Gnostic 
 and Neoplatonic philosophies, to say nothing of the Cabbala 
 of mediaeval Judaism — that Theosophy will have to get off 
 its perch and come down from speculative philosophy to brass 
 tacks before people with ordinary bodies, minds and souls 
 can see it. A bas this Blavatsky bunk, Egotism hiding under 
 a cloak of deity! 
 
 HUMAN BIRDS 
 
 HE American war-eagles have made an aviation nest 
 at San Diego. I saw some eaglets learning to fly, but 
 I wished they were as many as the birds off Guano 
 Island, Peru, that covered our boat like a cloud, so 
 
 that our aviators abroad might bomb-drop the Kaiser out of 
 
 business. 
 
 Man has always wanted to fly. He had feet and longed 
 for wings. Rather than miss the chance of flying after he is 
 dead, he invented the aeroplane. In spite of the failures of 
 Icarus and Darius Green, he has experimented right and left 
 till he now rises and soars, skims over water and flies overland 
 like a big bird of prey looking for some enemy to pounce on 
 and kill. This flying is a high art practiced to bring low. 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 121 
 
 Years ago I was offered a ride in a Zeppelin at Frankfort, 
 but was as distrustful as the Greeks of the Trojan horse, and 
 I remained on terra firma. At the beginning of the war we 
 were handicapped, failing to get a ** flying" start in our aero- 
 plane race. The only air plane we had the first few months 
 of the war was plain hot air. 
 
 The flying of our eagle-eyed birdmen makes the bare-back 
 riding of Bellerophon on Pegasus and Ariosto's Rogero on 
 a hippogriff tame in comparison. Hail the day when we can 
 flutter from country to country here, from planet to planet 
 in the hereafter. 
 
 RICH MAN'S RETREAT 
 
 L CORONADO was named after Mr. F. V. Coronado, 
 a gentleman from Spain, who came to Mexico and 
 America in the middle of the sixteenth century to 
 increase his bank account. 'Tis said he was lured on 
 by a big tale of some new gold and silver mine discovery. 
 Perhaps. The tale would sound no more fabulous than the 
 prospect stories of some modern mines here which are just so 
 many holes in the ground to bury your money. Had Mr. C. 
 found it all, it would doubtless have been little more than a 
 month's board bill at the hotel here bearing his name. If his 
 bill was too high, he could go to the aviation school conven- 
 iently nearby, get an aeroplane and reach it. 
 
 Hotel Coronado is half an hour from San Diego by ferry 
 and trolley. The only bather we saw was old Sol taking his 
 daily plunge in the Pacific. The sunset effect was a picture, 
 in fact a whole gallery of them, and by the time we reached 
 the hotel, with its palms and beach surroundings, it was dusk 
 and Hesperus had pulled down the shades of night. 
 
 Though the castle-like hotel, pleasure-lovers' palace, winked 
 and blinked its many electric eyes, the season was dull. We 
 rambled through this rambling structure, admiring the large 
 lobby, the corridors, and paintings and antiques not half as 
 painted and antique as some of the human specimens sitting 
 
122 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 around. We slid over the slippery floor of the bell-shaped 
 ball room at imminent danger of breaking our necks, and 
 then sat down and watched a fancy dance rehearsal on the 
 part of two professionals, an athletic young man and agile 
 young lady, who gave all the latest wrinkles, twists and con- 
 tortions of the season. The swell society people were writ- 
 ing, reading or promenading. However, the real dancers and 
 swells were the waves on the beach, and I never tire looking 
 at them. 
 
 There are many pleasures for many people. You may ride, 
 golf, play polo, swim, ride in a hydroplane, fish for yellow- 
 tail, barracuda and tuna in nearby waters, or launch over to 
 the Coronado Islands and visit the wild birds, pelicans and 
 seals. 
 
 Coronado is a Lotus island. Clear blue sky, gorgeous flower 
 gardens, splendid palm and pine trees, colored birds, (not 
 black birds) musical breezes, shouting waves, fresh air, a big 
 appetite and good night's sleep are all advertised to give 
 pleasure to the weary business man and society-fagged woman 
 at so much per day. Do you like to bask? This is a great 
 place for baskers, under the palms, on the beach or porch, in 
 the sunlight on the sand, or in the reflected light of gold, 
 wealth and diamonds. 
 
 Rabelais ' Abbey of the Thelemites, built by Gargantua, was 
 a free and easy Inn where the strictest rule of the order was, 
 **Do what thou wilt." Coronado is built on this plan. Get 
 up in the morning when you want to; go to bed when you 
 want to; and between these two divisions of the day do just 
 what you want to. Human nature enjoys what is not allow^ed, 
 and since everything is permitted, time doubtless weighs heavy 
 on many hands. But over the great gate of the Thelemites' 
 abbey was written that which, if placed over this modern 
 hostelry, would soon require another sign, **For Rent.'* The 
 old inscription read: ''Here enter not hypocrites, attorneys, 
 pinching usurers, pelf-lickers, coin-grippers, deformed sots, 
 jealous curs, drunkards, liars, cowards, cheaters, thieves and 
 the covetous.'' The inscription included many other classes, 
 yet this enumeration is sufficient to exclude the patrons of all 
 big hotels today. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 123 
 
 I left this millionaire's playground and social swim with 
 
 the feeling that it was a modern Aladdin's palace for beauty 
 
 of surroundings, and that one could be entertained for more 
 
 than one thousand and one Arabian nights if he cared to. 
 
 Still, he might prefer solitude in a South Sea isle, in a thatched 
 
 hut with a palm tree for a sun shade, cocoanut for a drink, 
 
 bread fruit for food, and a tapa cloth and grass skirt society 
 that often wears more clothes than ball room beauties. There 
 gold disturbs no dreams, the hour-glass is the sea sand, the 
 music the bird in the tree and the wave on the beach. There 
 is **not seen Dissimulation's reign, the prayers of Abel linked 
 to deeds of Cain/' 
 
 SOLDIERS' MORALS 
 
 |HE San Diego police told me night-life was perfectly 
 dead. Being a clergyman, I walked around think- 
 ing I might be able to render some funereal service. 
 But the city was a lively corpse. Two squares from 
 the Plaza there were big open bars filled with drinking men 
 and women, a miniature Munich affair. Further on I saw 
 a U. S. sailor with club in hand standing at the door of a 
 cabaret. He told me he had orders to keep all the sailors 
 away from the tender damsels who were sitting at the tables 
 drinking hard drinks, and with siren speech and looks were 
 attempting to make moral shipwrecks of the boys. Two blocks 
 further on I was invited into a cabaret. I looked in. It was 
 a dark brunette affair. Colored men made up the orchestra, 
 the manager was a negro, the waitresses were dusky. Some 
 of our white army and navy boys were present and between 
 the soft drinks served them they arose and waltzed these dark 
 dames around. A black girl stood outside and invited us to 
 enter. This was a low grade affair. 
 
 Nothing is too good for our soldier boys, but so long as 
 fastidious and indifferent families give the cold shoulder to 
 them while away from home, and are unwilling to permit them 
 
124 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 to visit their homes and associate with their boys and girls, 
 so long will the government morals commission have a big 
 problem on its hands. 
 
 "We have thousands of soldiers to protect our country but 
 our soldiers need protection. 
 
 Something good must be done for our boys or they will 
 be shot to pieces by the enemy of drunkenness, disease and 
 debauchery before they ever reach the front. 
 
 Let civic and church organizations unite to give our sol- 
 dier boys the best books, magazines, pictures, music and 
 athletics to offset temptations that lay siege to their body, 
 mind and soul. 
 
 Uncle Sam is at war. If he is going to be victorious he 
 must have strong soldiers. Strong soldiers have passions 
 which must be regenerated or regulated. The mere closing 
 of cafes where liquor is served will not safeguard the soldier's 
 morals. Uncle Sam should do here what I have seen him do 
 in Panama and Honolulu — substitute a military and medical- 
 ly supervised segregated district for lawless, scattered resorts 
 of virulent vice. 
 
 Returning to the hotel we passed a small hotel entrance. 
 At the head of this lighted stairway, and over the registry 
 desk, appeared a sign with letters six inches tall and large 
 enough to be read from the street below. It was as follows: 
 ''HAVE WE ANY GIRLS HERE? NO.'' It is well to have 
 this bit of information before love's labor is lost and climbs 
 the stairs in vain. I have been in hotels around and across 
 the world, but never before read such a notice. When hotels 
 advertise in this manner, one is in little doubt as to the state 
 of morals. 
 
 A hot tamale restaurant looked inviting, and entering we 
 were greeted with the sign, ''No profanity or vulgar talk al- 
 lowed." Imagine our surprise when the demure little waitress 
 remarked to the chef, as she handed me my order, "I'll be 
 
 before I let any man alive be my boss and tell me 
 
 where to get off and on." In this early evening tour of an 
 hour we were shocked to find this city so naughty and acting 
 so like her big sister up the coast. 
 
A "BONNY" BATHER 
 
 NEWPORT BEACH, CALIFORNIA 
 
ON THE WARPATH 125 
 
 After leaving San Diego we had not gone far when three 
 men rushed out on the road, stopped our auto, ordered the 
 passengers to alight, seized our grips and searched them. 
 "Hold up !" I cried and told them I was a minister. That only- 
 made them more suspicious. These highway men were U. S. 
 custom officials in search of opium, which like many other 
 bad things was being smuggled over the line from Mexico. I 
 asked them what they wanted to do with it. I knew that a 
 dope fiend would resort to anything to get it, yet never before 
 had I seen any one resort to such high handed means to secure 
 it. 
 
 CAPISTRANO 
 
 APISTRANO lies between San Diego and Los Angeles 
 and one can't help seeing it whether he wishes to 
 or not and whether he goes by auto or train. The 
 auto road, Camino de Real, is not lined with palms 
 but with majectic bill boards advertising the Palm Cafe. Ar- 
 riving at Capistrano you can scarcely see the Mission on ac- 
 count of the many cafes and garages. The air is not one of 
 godliness but gasoline, grease and Spanish cookery. The in- 
 stant I stepped out of the auto I was grabbed by a restau- 
 rateur, who seized kodaks, umbrellas and bags and hustled 
 them into the dining room. I told him we had just finished 
 a good breakfast and had come to see the Mission, not the 
 menu, but my words were of no avail. The only way I shook 
 him was to promise to return and dine at his place after my 
 visit to the chapel. 
 
 Here, as in the other missions, the main mission is the 
 admission fee. This is a sad admission, but the paying invest- 
 ment continues. As the Mission grew rich from the enforced 
 labor of the poor Indian, so now it is a mint of money collected 
 from the traveling saint and sinner who must put up or be 
 shut out. This keeps the missions in an excellent state of 
 preservation — very necessary lest they kill the goose that lays 
 the golden egg. 
 
126 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 Ruins to be picturesque should be ruins — ^here they are 
 ruining the only good feature it ever had, its ruins, by dolling 
 it up with new stone and cement. It would seem nature cared 
 no more for this style of ecclesiastical architecture than that 
 of Central and South America which she has overturned and 
 buried hy quake. Why not respect her wishes? The quake 
 in Capistrano was in 1812, when the world was quaking under 
 the foot of Bonaparte. The Mission fell in a mass during the 
 celebration of its first mass, December 8th. The upper nave 
 was shaken down and some of the knaves under it were shaken 
 up and killed. The two bell-ringers perished, yet enough of 
 their race remains in Latin countries to make the traveler long 
 for other quakes. I saw the four bells of various sizes whose 
 inscriptions do not ring with the inscribed praises of the 
 world's gracious Redeemer, but of his mother. A sign read, 
 **Don*t ring the bell.'* I needed no word vocal or printed to 
 keep me from Maryolatry. 
 
 THE DOUBLE CROSS 
 
 WITHIN the entrance stood a statue to Father Serra. 
 A cross rises from a pedestal and just beneath its 
 cross beam the Father stands with one hand pointing 
 up to the cross, while with the other he hugs a young 
 Indian boy to his breast in a kind of strangle hold. Presumably 
 he is telling him what the cross stands for. What it really 
 means is painfully plain to the student of church history in 
 Latin America, where under the sign of the cross the church 
 gave the poor Indian the double cross by enslaving, robbing, 
 torturing and crucifying him. 
 
 At Capistrano the fathers instituted some religious amuse- 
 ments for the savage Indians whose feelings they were trying 
 to refine. One was the bull fight. The holy fathers carefully 
 distinguished between torturing and killing the bull. It was 
 pagan to kill him in the bull ring in the patio — that must be 
 done outside — yet it was proper and pious to tease, torture 
 and twist his tail in the Mission enclosure. The spectators sat 
 on the roof of the Mission, laughing, applauding and yelling 
 
ON THE WARPATH 127 
 
 ** bully** for the buUfigliter when he threw the bull, inwardly 
 thanking God for sending the padres who gave them such 
 heavenly sport. 
 
 The useful industries taught the Indians long ago in the 
 patio shops were making soap (did they make them use it?) ; 
 candles, to lighten the church or their dark hours; blankets, 
 to roll up in and dream of happy bygone days. Then, too, 
 they made hats, either for style or to doff when bowing before 
 their superiors ; shoes, to save their dirty soles or to sell to the 
 Spaniards ; and harness for longer hauls and shorter rests. 
 
 Whether the building of the Mission comes under the head 
 of '* useful industries" is a question, but no doubt remains that 
 men, women and children, (there were no child labor laws in 
 those days) had to walk from the quarries bearing stones on 
 their head or in their hands. In the construction of the Mission 
 rawhide was used — which was the rawer, the human or animal ? 
 Tiles were burned in the kilns which may still be seen, the 
 product of killing labor. Iron was used in bars, locks and 
 bolts as though for a jail. Too frequently churches are prison 
 houses of thought. It may be right to make people penitent, 
 but it is wrong to make any church a penitentiary of a place. 
 The Indians were called ^'neophytes" by the church, that is, 
 converted heathen. The only "fight'* they had after they 
 joined the church was in the name it gave them. 
 
 The history of the California Indians dates from Father 
 Junipero Serra in 1769 when he founded San Diego, and con- 
 tinues to the end of San Francisco Solano in 1823. There were 
 23 missions among the Indians that flourished until withered 
 by civilization and enlightenment. In 1834 the Mexican gov- 
 ernment expelled the friars and took over the establishment to 
 themselves. The fathers had over 30,000 Indian subjects and 
 abjects, hundreds of thousands of cattle, horses, mules, sheep, 
 hogs, goats and granaries of wheat and corn. There were 
 buildings of brick and stone for churches, chapels and schools, 
 also for work shops where Lo was taught the arts and indus- 
 tries to be useful and ornamental, a very unpleasant task for a 
 dirty, lazy Indian. There were farms, orchards and vineyards 
 which were thoroughly worked and utilized by the good fathers 
 who waxed so fat that the Indians kicked. Contact with civili- 
 
128 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 zation and religion hurt them. Clerical colonies might do in 
 South America, but not in North America. Devotion, dirt and 
 disease thinned their ranks. The American occupation of 
 California finished the matter. The good Indians were dead 
 and 70 years of love's labor was lost. In 1908 only 3,000 
 mission Indians were left. 
 
 In our journey through the Capistrano Mission we saw 
 many evidences of priestcraft and graft. There were faded 
 pictures — where the brush most needed to retouch them was 
 a dust brush ; wooden-headed statues ; dusty confessionals ; 
 musty religious furniture; eobwebbed candlesticks; mildewed 
 Madonnas ; plastered saints with peeling faces, and rich invest- 
 ments in old vestments. We meandered through corroded 
 corridors; saw the broken arches made by Time's foot, the 
 dumps of adobe where lizards lounged in the long grass, and 
 crumbling courts where Decay sits enthroned. 
 
 Like some of the people who saw it, there was a one-lunged 
 cabinet organ here. I played a few chords and found that by 
 moving a lever, the key of a set piece of music could be 
 transposed high or low. Our guide was reverent as he led our 
 procession and talked with unctuous accent. He tiptoed softly 
 as a ghost, bowing and scraping all the time as he told ludi- 
 crous legends in a sepulchral voice. Finally we entered the 
 holy of holies — the sacred souvenir salesroom. We had pre- 
 viously been hurried, but now he gave us all the time and 
 liberty we wanted. I had enough of this and sailed right 
 through to keep my promise with the cafe proprietor. The 
 food was Spanish in taste, and the seiioritas who served it 
 were tastefully dressed. 
 
 Next to the dinner, the thing that pleased us most was the 
 astounding, stupefying discovery made in an adjacent Mexican 
 hut. What do you think it was ? A wash tub and a washboard. 
 This is the true mission furniture, of more moral worth than 
 all the chapel possessed. Its mission is cleanliness outside 
 which is next to godliness inside. I shall remember this when 
 I forget everything else. This fact was worth all the pious 
 fiction with which the guide had flooded our ears for an hour. 
 We pulled out from Capistrano in high spirits and high gear 
 for Los Angeles, stopping en route at Santa Ana. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 
 
 129 
 
 THE HAPPY VALLEY 
 
 SANTA ANA is the name of a famous general, a beau- 
 tiful valley, a disagreeable dirt wind and a thriving 
 town. It is the home of an all around good fellow, 
 Dr. Ball, who left his dying patients in the care of 
 the undertaker while he whisked us in his touring car to a 
 heaven-kissing hill where he showed us all the glories of valley, 
 mountain and sea. One of the real devils in California is the 
 real estate dealer who makes tempting offers for the tourist 
 to fall down before. Dr. Ball is not in this class. Familiar 
 with this region's history, mines, values and fruits, he pictured 
 it as a veritable Happy Valley of Rasselas with little discon- 
 tent other than labor troubles. In the distance we saw the 
 airships that were able to fly and make no such failures as Dr. 
 Johnson tells us happened to the flying machine of the artist 
 on which Rasselas wanted to escape. 
 
 APPLES OF HESPERIDES 
 
 POUND it as difficult to buy an orange in California 
 as it was to get a cup of tea in Ceylon or cup of 
 coffee in Java. I saw oranges on train folders and 
 in orchards from: train windows — oranges everywhere 
 but not one to buy or eat. They were as hard to get as the 
 golden apples (oranges) of Hesperides which Hercules found 
 to be the toughest of his labors. In the city the prices were 
 prohibitive and on the beaches there were none. Visiting the 
 town of Orange in Orange County, I entered a store and asked 
 for some oranges. The clerk eyed me as if I were an escaped 
 lunatic or German spy and replied he had no oranges to sell. 
 I managed to buy a few tangerines and several things in the 
 shape of oranges — apples. Across the street I saw the sign 
 "Orange Supply Co.," and with lips drawn up like a navel 
 orange, at the thought of its sweetness, I hurried over to sadly 
 find it was nothing but a gasoline station. From what you 
 read and hear I expected to get as big and juicy oranges as I 
 
130 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 had in Joppa, Florida, China, Brazil, Italy and Spain. I 
 thought the Californian children played ball with them, that 
 one could walk along and pick them up or off. Did I not come 
 here to see their green-leaved beauty, breathe their blossomed 
 fragrance, press their sun-kissed faces to my lips, and eat a 
 fruit and drink a seedless nectar that made the ambrosia of 
 the Gods taste like stale buttermilk in comparison? Woe is 
 me, I didn't even glimpse an orange sunset. 
 
 When the Eighth Annual Orange Carnival was advertised 
 to be held at San Bernardino, I went as a last chance. The 
 Sunday trolley ride from Los Angeles was a scenic fiesta of 
 hill, valley, orchard and mountain. The streets of San Berdo, 
 that mountain-guarded town, were gay with fluttering banners 
 and thronged with auto tourists. The first golden fruit I saw 
 was beyond my reach — in a jeweler's window. It was behind 
 bars, protected along with silver and precious stones to keep it 
 from the theft of the covetous traveler. Really, oranges here 
 were as priceless as black diamond coal in the East. 
 
 The Citrus Circus had a Pike or Amusement Alley with the 
 usual gambling, fake girl clairvoyants and red hot attractions. 
 There were some side-show navel orange dancers. Two young 
 girls beckoned "L" and me to coms in their tent and learn 
 our physical and spiritual contents, according to the inviting 
 sign over the door, ''Know Thyself." A word to the wise 
 was sufficient and we kept out, knowing enough of ourselves, 
 for back of them was another sign, with the magic words, "I 
 Love You." 
 
 Then we strolled into the big show tent, where 90,000 
 visitors had flocked during the week. We saw thousands of 
 lemons and grape fruit in designs and displays representing 
 hanging gardens, flowing fountains, ships, etc. There was a 
 Court of the Allies advertised to be made up of the most 
 beautiful girls of Southern California — but they were not in 
 evidence and I don't know whether they were lost, strayed or 
 stolen. Their absence was compensated for by many other 
 wonderful and thrilling features — such as crowds of city and 
 country fair folk, stands of ice-cream and lemonade, lunch 
 counters, bands of music, a tent full of autos for sale, exhibits 
 of produce and machinery, and a lovely display of lemons and 
 
ON THE WARPATH 131 
 
 grapefruit. We missed tlie ''peaches," California's prettiest 
 girls, advertised as the state's finest fruit. But of the thing 
 which gave the Carnival its name, there wasn't much. The 
 small select number of orange booths was outclassed by 24 
 boxes of classy lemons that for size, color and acidity won the 
 prize. I had been given many lemons in life before, but none 
 so fine as these. Yet I didn't make a sour face, for I'm like 
 the optimist who made lemonade of the lemons that were 
 handed him. 
 
 In fable the orange is known as the Apple of Hesperides; 
 in history we read of William of Orange; in politics and 
 religion, Ulster suggests the Orange men; in geography the 
 word recalls the Orange River Colony of South Africa, and 
 East Orange, N. J., where I used to visit and spend my boy- 
 hood Saturdays ; in friendly soda philanthropy we have orange 
 ade. In botany we learn the orange was transplanted from 
 Asia to Europe ; that the trees grow 350 years old ; that they 
 are large and shady, or dwarfed as potplants ; that one tree is 
 a gold mine bearing as many as ten or twelve thousand fruit 
 a year ; and that the fruit is fragrant and juicy, whether round 
 or flattened, seedy or seedless, or tangerine, kumquat, or navel. 
 
 The orange is a little world in itself. Its glassy green 
 leaves decorate the graves of the dead and its white fragrant 
 blossoms deck the brow of the bride. In the South Seas some 
 oranges are ripe when green. Who can forget my lady's kid- 
 glove orange ? What middy will not fight for a navel orange ? 
 Among the tragic events of the world war, and one of the 
 awful sacrifices our English cousins have nobly made, is the 
 enforced absence of orange marmalade from their breakfast 
 table. The color of the orange is cheerful and optimistic. It 
 is pleasant to the eye, lip and nose. Who cares a fig for other 
 fruits if he has an orange ! 
 
 In poetry it is the favorite of the bards, and in Lalla Rookh 
 Moore sings, 
 
 * 'Beneath some orange trees. 
 Whose fruit and blossoms in the breeze 
 Were wantoning together free, 
 Like age aplay with infancy, ' ' 
 
132 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 The orange tree is of middle size, lias green leaves and 
 brown bark. The fruit is round and yellow divided into eight 
 or ten compartments, and is anything but flat with its pulpy, 
 sugary juice. Fragrant oil is made from the leaves, rind and 
 flowers. Its fine-grained compact wood takes polish and is 
 used in the arts. 
 
 Know ye the land of the citrus fruit, Myrtle? The China 
 orange is sweet, the Seville bitter, the Maltese is red-pulped, 
 the Mandarin has the flavor of a clove, and the Tangerine and 
 St. Michaels are distinct. 
 
 The word orange in verbal combination is used to apply 
 to a butterfly, thorn, root, ship, apple, tea, peel, pear and oil. 
 The orange is always in danger and requires as much care as 
 a child. Its beauty is ravaged by a scaly insect called the 
 ''Mitilapsis Citricola" which has to be sprayed. When the 
 fruit is attacked by Jack Frost the gardeners hustle to smoke 
 him out. 
 
 I remember the Orangery at San Souci, Potsdam, that Prus- 
 sian Versailles of Frederick the Great. I viewed its fountains 
 and climbed the staircase with the orange trees on either side ; 
 entered the music room and struck a chord on the old spinet 
 that had thrilled and throbbed under the master fingers of 
 Bach; and visited the royal study Voltaire had frequented, 
 that great French wit and poet whom the young Frederick 
 had sent for to come and tutor him. That friendship was 
 short-lived. Frederick wanted Voltaire to criticize his verses 
 and Voltaire replied, ^'The king sends me his soiled linen to 
 wash." Voltaire incidentally said that the Prussian language 
 made up for the scarcity of their ideas by the length of their 
 words and the superfluity of their consonants. Frederick 
 called Voltaire a *' blackguard" and ** vagabond," but Voltaire 
 flashed back a verbal volt shock, '' Coquettes, kings and poets 
 are accustomed to flattery. Frederick combines these three 
 characters. It is not possible that Truth can pierce this triple 
 wall of self-esteem." 
 
 Jaffa is famous for its oranges. One afternoon I walked 
 out to its cemetery and while resting refreshed myself by 
 eating a dozen. What better place for a grave than the orange 
 grove in the vicinity with its ornament of orange blossoms 
 
ON THE WARPATH 133 
 
 and the murmuring' requiem of the Mediterranean? If I die 
 in California, or some tropic far-off land, instead of having a 
 cow, goat or sheep visit my grave to nibble the grass, I believe 
 my bones would rest easier in my coffin if I knew an orange 
 tree was growing above me. Then the weary, thirsty traveler 
 could sit on my grave, lean his back against the foot of my 
 tombstone, and while looking at my head stone initials G. L. M., 
 refresh himself with oranges and pray that my soul might find 
 rest under the boughs of the tree of life in the paradise above. 
 Better this than any stone urn or gloomy cypress. Let some 
 Anacreon have a tombstone as a trellis for a grape-vine — but 
 give me the orange tree. 
 
 LUTHER AND LIBERTY 
 
 lURING our stay in Los Angeles there was a Luther 
 celebration in press, pulpit and lecture hall and I 
 recalled my visit to his home. 
 
 In the market place at Eisleben, you stand before 
 the statue of Martin Luther, one of the world's greatest char- 
 acters in history. Here Charles V., Frederick the Great, Peter 
 of Russia, Napoleon, Kaiser Wilhelm, and many others have 
 stood with respect and reverence — but their influence of mili- 
 tary might has been as nothing compared with the moral 
 power of Martin Luther, who wielded the sword of the Spirit, 
 and lives today in the memory and heart of the world. 
 
 Though dead, Luther speaks in religion, education, litera- 
 ture, music and government. His name is a synonym of 
 physical, mental and moral liberty — ^the liberty, fraternity and 
 equality the world struggles for today. 
 
 No life story is more interesting than his. "We see him 
 studying and singing at school in Eisenach ; later reading Law 
 at Erfurt ; studying theology in the Augustinian Convent and 
 preaching and lecturing to the people and students; at Rome 
 climbing to heaven on no Scala Sancta but on the Bible ladder 
 of, ''The Just shall live by Faith;'' at Juterbok hurling an- 
 athemas on Tetzel selling indulgences and promising freedom 
 from purgatorial punishment; at Worms, boldly meeting his 
 
134 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 political and clerical accusers, saying, **Here I stand; I cannot 
 otherwise; God help me;" held safe by his friends in the 
 Wartburg castle from his enemies; marrying Katharine Von 
 Bora and setting up a home of happy usefulness ; translating 
 the Bible into German, and making songs which echoed in mil- 
 lions of hearts, and after a life of strength, study, sensibility, 
 and spirituality, closing his eyes in death, whispering, ''Into 
 Thy hands, Christ, I commit my spirit; for Thou hast re- 
 deemed me.*' 
 
 Ignoring pomp, pretense, parade and prelatical power, 
 Luther stood for what Protestantism stands today — freedom 
 of conscience, an open Bible, and the doctrine of justification 
 by faith. 
 
 He believed that Christ was the foundation, corner-stone 
 and super-structure of the Church, with no Saint intercessor 
 or confessor between Him and the worshipper; that the Bible 
 was the revealed Will and Word of God to Man as a perfect 
 rule of human conduct, and free for every man to read and 
 follow for his soul's salvation and sanctification ; and that 
 freedom meant individual life and a personal responsibility 
 that went straight to God for orders without any ecclesiastical 
 interference from any Church. 
 
 The map of the Christian world today was drawn by Martin 
 Luther, and it is bounded North, South, East and West by 
 Protestant nations. 
 
 The creed of Protestantism is : Heaven is the Eternal city ; 
 Christ is the Supreme Pontiff ; the Bible is final ; the hierarchy 
 is a procession of Christian workers ; the cathedral is conse- 
 crated lives; the music, ''Thy sins are forgiven thee;" the 
 litany, "Save us from Slavery of Mind and Soul;" its gloria, 
 "Jesus Only." 
 
 L stands for Luther and Liberty; that Church and State 
 exist for the people and not the people for state or Church ; 
 that Republican government means self-government: that 
 Democracy is a government of and by the people as well as for 
 the people ; that Absolutism is opposed to Individualism and 
 Vaticanism is as un-American as Imperialism. 
 
 Were Luther living today in America, he would oppose the 
 union of Church and State; demand freedom of speech and 
 
ON THE WARPATH 135 
 
 press; defend the public scliool, and send his children to it; 
 insist on the right of everyone to religious liberty against all 
 clerical intolerance; protest by voice and pen against the 
 supreme sovereignty of any king or minister which, in tem- 
 poral or spiritual affairs, set up its commands against the 
 Constitution of the United States, and from its throne in Europe 
 demanded American allegiance. 
 
 America is against Prussian militarism and opposes Kaiser 
 William in the spirit of German Martin Luther, who in his 
 day led the march of freedom, liberated the mind and soul 
 Germany once possessed and, please God, she and all the world 
 and made possible the mental, moral, and material prosperity 
 shall have once more and forever. 
 
 MOVIE— MADNESS 
 
 IhAKESPEARE 'S ^'All the world's a stage,*' is 
 changed to "All the world's a movie screen and 
 scream." In Los Angeles one dodges movie actors 
 and operators. Picture houses are as numerous as 
 saloons along the squares. At the beaches people imitate 
 Theda Bara, very bare, and everj^where you meet boys with 
 a Charley Chaplin smile and shufile and girls wearing 
 Mary Pickford hats and curls. You flee this picture plague 
 to the mountain, yet you no sooner leave this angel city than 
 you come to movie studios at every point of the compass, with 
 all their papier mache palaces and cities. I fled fifty miles to 
 an ocean beach only to find scenic barges, boats and floats, 
 and what I hoped to be a lovely cave, rock or shore, with no 
 man Friday to mar my solicitude, turned out to be the haunt 
 of the ubiquitous movie operator with a bevy of vampire and 
 sea nymph performers. 
 
 Many of the studios were closed on account of the war, 
 and others because of the practise of spies going around to 
 steal plots. Visitors were not welcome. I managed to 
 get into Fox's, who has been called the Hearst of the movies. 
 It was almost as difficult to gain admittance as for those who 
 
136 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 wish to be stars. "We made it because the manager learned we 
 had been with his company at Kingston, Jamaica. In addition, 
 my card as chaplain of the Actor's Alliance served as an open 
 Sesame. 
 
 Fox is a magician who can put up everything from the fall 
 of the Bastile to the Barbary coast. Abroad I had seen ancient 
 ruins, but here within easy kodak shooting distance I viewed 
 everything from the streets of Paris in the seventeenth century 
 to old Cairo. These canvas cities and streets looked as though 
 Kaiser Bill's heavenly hosts had been directing the movie 
 operations with big guns, or as if they had been swept up by a 
 Kansas cyclone or California earthquake. 
 
 There stood poor old Liberty alone, bruised and battered 
 and significantly sitting on a board scaffolding. She was 
 thrown out and forgotten, symbolic of much of our boasted 
 liberty today which has been junked. The movie builders 
 were busy erecting an Oriental city and surroundings for sen- 
 suous * 'Salome." Instead of the Bible story and its lesson of 
 Herod's sin, John's rebuke, and the wanton wife who in angry 
 retaliation used her daughter Herodias to dance off John's 
 head, the theme is the sensual infatuation of the profligate 
 girl for the pious prophet, based on the version and perversion 
 of Oscar Wilde's poetry and Strauss' seductive music. A 
 guard followed us as faithfully as though we were in Mexico 
 or Moscow. He showed me store-rooms, settings, parapher- 
 nalia and machinery enough to produce any time, place or 
 girl in history. 
 
 Lastly, we entered a studio where they were making real 
 movie pictures. Here were all quarters and classes — gentle- 
 men of leisure in luxurious rooms, with ghastly powdered 
 visage ; convicts in striped suits ; parlors furnished in the style 
 of Louis XIV, where villainy pursues virtue, which threatens 
 to fly away. It was the most interesting movie I ever saw. 
 Great calcium lights flashed on the scene, the operator turned 
 a crank, the manager sat with the manuscript, chewing cigar 
 stubs and giving directions. The girl rushed across the room, 
 the villain pursued and tried to grab her, both of them saying 
 little with their lips but much with the moving expression of 
 their eyes, mouths and hands. The heroine sprang onto a 
 
ON THE WARPATH 137 
 
 window-sill, made a few faces at her pursuer, doubly crossed 
 herself, and then made a mad, wild leap into the darkness, 
 just six inches below on the other side. Then the manager 
 yelled "Cut it!" to the operator, and tried it over and over 
 again. It was better than a London Punch and Judy show, 
 and was surely worth the admission, which we had obtained 
 for nothing. I fear this film will bring a film of tears to the 
 eyes of movie maidens all over the land, yet to us it was 
 laughable. 
 
 When ''Cleopatra'' landed in Los Angeles there were more 
 than 100,000 admirers who paid high prices to see this wily 
 sorceress of the Nile. To show the value of advertising here, 
 they give the people what they want. An ocean of printer's 
 ink flowed over every billboard with a sickening, sensational 
 slush and gush. This is the way they do it : * * See the produc- 
 tion in which red blood and brute strength make their laws"; 
 ''A photo-play showing man as God made him"; ''The most 
 sensational picture ever produced"; "A story of primitive 
 passions and the freedom of natural instincts"; "The most 
 thrilling spectacle ever shown on a moving picture screen"; 
 "A dream of uncurbed impulses.** 
 
 Rousseau wrote his "Confessions," and I must now write 
 mine. After all these years of innocent travel, I followed the 
 crowd and fell in line to see some of the stars in this movie 
 firmament, and for the first time beheld Mary Pickford, Theda 
 Bara, Douglas Fairbanks, etc., in all their flickering glory. 
 If kind heaven will forgive this waste of time and money, I 
 will never do it again. 
 
 A travel, scientific or educational film has a certain value, 
 but it is ridiculous to think one can know the literary value 
 of Shakespeare and the classics through a film version. An- 
 cient history is so antique that if Cleopatra's sacred bones 
 had not already been weighted down with Sahara sand they 
 would have risen, got together and come over here to protest 
 against this ludicrous and time-out-of-joint portrayal. I have 
 been to Egypt often enough to know what the Nile boats, 
 palms, pyramids, Sphinx and natives look like. Cleopatra, 
 according to ancient writers, is pictured as of Egyptian and 
 Macedonian descent, swarthy, plastic, profligate, daring, dev- 
 
138 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 ilish, alluring, adulterous, familiar, sly and sensuous. In all 
 her posing this modern Theda fell far short of this Oriental 
 ideal. In perfect keeping with the California beach Egyptian 
 scenery, the orchestra played the Lucia Sextette for an over- 
 ture, probably because it was a sex film. The pasteboard 
 pyramid, jack-in-the-box Sphinx, Balboa Actium battle and 
 sea beach chariot race would make a Pharaoh mummy smile. 
 But in the audience the gray-haired old ladies and bald-headed 
 veterans, who formed the greater part, thought it was won- 
 derful. The old Cleopatra siren, ambitious, able, brave, bad, 
 is with great difficulty portrayed by angel-food and malted- 
 milk fed actresses of today. This screen star was not the kind 
 to conquer a Caesar, Antony or Augustus with heart-sighs, 
 and, failing in this, to place a poisonous asp on her bosom 
 and die. No, modern screen stars are pleasant society girls 
 who spend plenty of money for clothes, flirt, knit and perhaps 
 teach a Sunday school class, but for the old serpent of the 
 Nile they are nil. 
 
 I met the scenario writer of one film that held the mirror 
 up to Nature. It was put on by the fighting parson of 'Frisco 
 who cleared out the notorious tenderloin district, after which 
 the women of the underworld marched in a body to his church 
 and demanded that he give them some decent way of making 
 a living. It v/as a strong sermon, and if what does good is 
 good, it is a good film. There was fact as a basis, a reason for 
 its existence. It was not the mere empty amusement kind 
 of film, or one in which under-garlanded beauty seduces and 
 makes destruction please. 
 
 California is one big, beautiful movie studio. The only 
 way to avoid it is to leave the state. As we boarded the ship 
 at San Pedro, we were blocked at the gangway by a crowd 
 gazing at a distinguished looking Jap with the airs of the em- 
 peror and a Russian princess who appeared to be running 
 away. I imagined there had been some quick change in his- 
 tory, that these royal people were to be our passengers, and 
 I hoped to be introduced and so obtain some state or stateroom 
 news that would edify and electrify the world. Pshaw! ^ It 
 was a movie scene, a sham, a show, only this, and nothing 
 more. 
 
ON THE V/ARPATH 139 
 
 Billboard cinema figures disfigure and often disgust as 
 much as board-bill duns. People pack the movies. No artist, 
 musician or orator is such a good money-getter as the movie 
 man. 
 
 Arthur Brisbane, world-famed writer, pays the movies 
 this compliment: 
 
 '* Moving pictures is only a money-making proposition. 
 Its success is based upon the stupidity and lack of intellectual 
 development of the human race. We are a race of animals 
 who have been standing on our hind legs only 500,000 years, 
 using speech about 100,000 years, and really using the written 
 word generally only about 50 years. The success of the moving 
 picture of today can be readily understood when all of that 
 is taken into account. The moving picture saves the humans 
 the intellectual effort of making their own pictures as they 
 must when reading or listening to the spoken drama. A man 
 who will not read Shakespeare now sits an hour and a half 
 in front of a screen ruining his eyes. In an industry where 
 hundreds of millions have been invested, if you cannot list six 
 or even sixty great works you haven't gone veiy far.'* 
 
 CLIMATE WORSHIPPERS 
 
 ALIFORNIA climate is excellent for consumptives, 
 cinemas and autos. If the people were as good a? 
 their climate, one wouldn't have to die to go to 
 heaven. Should the local boosters perchance enter 
 Paradise, they might object to the atmosphere, complain that 
 the scenery was less beautiful, the fruits not so luscious, and 
 the golden streets less suitable for touring than their own 
 boulevards. People die to see California, and die seeing it. 
 Invalids, in the eve of life when Death's shadow is lengthen- 
 ing, go to this land of the sunset and say *^ good-night" and, 
 in some brighter clime, bid ** good-morning." Never before 
 have I seen so many people hopping about with one foot in 
 the grave. 
 
140 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 California is long on climate, movies and cafeterias, but 
 short on culture. **C" is the first letter in California and be- 
 gins her creed, which is, ''There is but one California, and 
 climate is its profit." Sing it, ye poets; print it, ye papers; 
 advertise it, ye folders; declare it, ye waters; preach it, ye 
 ministers; boost it, ye real estate dealers; flash it, ye sun, 
 moon and stars ; howl it, ye winds ; roar it, ye oceans ; and let 
 the birds trill it, and the autos honk it, and the bells ring it, 
 and the flowers and trees breathe it, and let earth quake it, 
 and let everything that hath breath declare it. Californians 
 deify their climate. Sunday, instead of reading a Psalm in the 
 sanctuary, they auto and sing and say, ''Let everything that 
 hath breath praise the climate — praise ye the climate. *' If 
 you do not fall down and worship the climate, some of the 
 natives would scarcely hesitate to cast you into a literal fiery 
 furnace. California's coat of arms should be a thermometer, 
 her patriotic national air "Hail California," and her doxology, 
 "Praise climate, from which all blessings flow." 
 
 Much of California's hot air comes from boosters. People 
 with weak lungs are strong for climate. Climate is the multum 
 in parvo, the sine qua non, the in hoc signo vinces, the sum- 
 mum bonum, the e pluribus unum, in fine, the beginning, mid- 
 dle and end of all things. Here was Eden's Paradise, Utopia, 
 Arcadia, Elysium and New Atlantis. 
 
 Thunder storms and tornadoes are unknown — ^but occa- 
 sionally earthquakes make deep impressions. Cool trade-winds 
 and the modifying influence of warm westerly winds fan the 
 native's brow. To a weather statistician and invalid it may 
 be interesting to know that the thermometer has only gone 
 below 32 degrees a few times in forty years, that the rainfall 
 about Los Angeles for the past twenty-five years has averaged 
 14.36 inches, the lowest 4.83, the highest 29.9, and that for 
 an average of 309 days the sun is but partly obscured, while 
 the ocean has a temperature of 61 degrees in January. 
 
 All that Californians say about their climate may be true, 
 but a good press agent from Alaska could do as much to boost 
 his climate. Here everything grows big and easily — the 
 redwood trees of the Yosemite, and the beets and lettuce the 
 year round. Like these are the tall stories of the acclimated 
 
ON THE WARPATH 141 
 
 falsifier who makes Munchausen a comparative seeker after 
 truth. And, strange, they tell it over so often they come 
 to believe it, and look you in the eye without a blink, swear- 
 ing on their mother's Bible that all they say is Gospel truth. 
 Is it strange that the good old farmer from Iowa and Kansas 
 swallows this line of talk, hook, sinker and all? However, the 
 world globe-trotter is from Missouri, and California will have 
 to show him mountains equal to the Andes or Himalayas and 
 tropical fruits, flowers and foliage finer than those of Ceylon 
 and Java, the South Seas, Hawaii, or the East and West Indies. 
 
 California has flowers the year round, but the rain this 
 year was late and most of the flowers I saw were growing on 
 the curbs and cement sidewalks at Los Angeles. Violets, car- 
 nations, roses and freesias were few as angel visits, because 
 you can't grow anything useful or beautiful in California 
 without water from the heavens above or from the irrigation 
 ditches beneath. 
 
 Cold figures give California a warm climate. Southern 
 California is a great sanitarium ; but how many great men has 
 she produced? Cloudless suns and trade-winds are enervat- 
 ing and lack the intellectual stimulus of a colder clime with 
 its bracing atmosphere. Climate means zones, and according 
 to the old geography there were thirty, fifteen each way from 
 the equator to the poles. California has a monopoly of them, 
 and under the baton of the year they all rehearse and play. 
 Free love is not a stranger here according to the proverb — 
 Cold climate, cold lovers; warm climate, warm lovers. "We 
 may occasionally overlook the naughty winter that lingers 
 in the lap of Spring, but the season is a big harem. All months 
 talk about the same language and wear the same fine flower- 
 decked garb. Summer doesn't come, like the tourist, for a 
 three-months camp, but lives here the year round. Winter and 
 autumn are lost. Here it is bud and fruit, flower and blossom, 
 red and yellow, green and brown, with Thompson's Seasons 
 multiplied by three. The air stimulates like wine, but the 
 pulse is physical more than mental and moral, spurring to 
 passion and urging more to eating and drinking than study- 
 ing. Boys and girls are lovers, fathers and mothers at an 
 early age. 
 
142 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 In spite of all that is said of the climate, I think I 
 should be willing to spend only a part of eternity here. 
 The surt is icewater, compared with the South Seas, and at 
 night, instead of being lapped in Lydian airs, you need a good 
 wool blanket. The climate rains, pours, frosts, freezes, fogs, 
 snows, blows, and does all the climatic stunts the weather man 
 performs over the world. It is often just cold enough to be 
 disagreeable and not balmy enough to be delightful. 
 
 The pongee and white duck suits I had started with to 
 Ecuador remained in the bottom of my trunk, and my scarf, 
 overcoat, raincoat and steamer rug were my celestial wardrobe 
 in the City of the Angels. In saying this I speak in no spirit 
 of criticism or witticism, but of cold fact, doubtless owing to 
 the fact that I live in the state of frigidity, Minnesota, a sort 
 of icebox the greater part of the year, and so am qualified 
 to note every disagreeable variation of temperature. Really 
 and truly, I enjoyed every hour of California climate — and 
 was glad it was no worse. Yet my spirits were never so de- 
 pressed as those of the Bacchus bunch, whose feelings were 
 low, as indicated by the liquor **bar"ometer, which had gone 
 way down at the storm of disapproval and prohibition tidal 
 wave sweeping over the state. John Barleycorn was going out 
 of business, shutting up shop and urging his friends to come 
 in and see him with a friendly final call. 
 
 IN AN EARTHQUAKE 
 
 MONG the shocks I received at some California 
 beaches was a short, sharp earthquake, one which 
 seemed disposed to topple my seaside hotel into the 
 breakers. Fortunately, it was quite harmless. The 
 damage was limited to the breaking of dishes, fewer than a 
 good strong servant girl smashes the first day in her new 
 place. 
 
 An earthquake is the motion of the earth's solid crust by 
 active forces beneath. It is usually found near active vol- 
 canoes, though quake-shaken vibrations have been felt in 
 nearly every part of the globe. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 143 
 
 I had visited the cities of Lisbon, Callao, Caracas, Valpa- 
 raiso and Kingston, where quake, fire and tidal wave had sent 
 hundreds of thousands to their death. Recentlj'' in Central 
 America I saw what destruction had been wrought at Anti- 
 gua and Cartago, and learned how the superstitious natives 
 had cried, prayed, made pilgrimages, given offerings and even 
 baptized the volcanoes, but all in vain. Some of the ''shaky" 
 experiences I had heard and read of I practically experienced 
 in an earthquake at Colon, Panama. It lasted one minute and 
 twenty seconds, and it felt as if the earth had been picked up 
 
 by a giant hand and shaken like a naughty child. My bed 
 was rocked and let down with a thump. Terra firma became 
 terra mota, a terrible sensation, unlike anything experienced 
 on sea or land before, and I was in a position to appreciate 
 the meaning of Addison's lines, ''The war of the elements, 
 the crush of matter and the wreck of worlds." 
 
 Philippi was the Macedonian city which King Philip had 
 repaired and beautified; Augustus made a Roman colony; 
 where the great battle was fought B. C. 42, when Brutus and 
 Cassius were overthrown by Octavius and Anthony and 
 Rome's republic was ended; where Paul was led in vision 
 from Troas to preach the gospel ; where Lydia was converted, 
 and a model Christian church sprang up. 
 
 Paul and Silas were scourged and cast into prison because 
 they had cast out the devil of divination from a young girl 
 who had "brought her masters much gain by soothsaying." 
 Touch a man's pocketbook, put a crimp in his bank account 
 and interfere with his dirty money-making schemes, and you 
 may expect to be persecuted, punched and put in prison if he 
 can land you there. 
 
 Jails in the Far East were filthy, crowded and inhuman. 
 Law, not love, ruled, and the object was to break the prison- 
 er's spirit and his back. Today we seek to remedy, and not 
 revenge; to help, not hurt, and so influence character that the 
 criminal may go and "sin no more." Yet it is a question 
 whether we do not often coddle the criminal, excuse his sin, 
 blame others, make him feel he is wronged, apologize for him, 
 
144 ON THE WARPATK 
 
 try and shorten his manslaughter sentence and give more of 
 a good time with music, flowers, games and movies than he is 
 entitled to, in the light of his crime. 
 
 The jailer was responsible for his prisoners, and as he saw 
 them freed by the earthquake he was about to commit suicide, 
 when Paul said, ''Do thyself no harm." Terrified and repent- 
 ant, he replied, ''Sirs, what must I do to be saved?" 
 
 He called the Apostles "Sirs," not tramps, anarchists, 
 firebrands or trouble-makers. 
 
 He asked what he should "do," not imagine, think or 
 dream. 
 
 He said "I," not my wife, mother-in-law or neighbor. 
 
 He asked to be "saved," instead of begging for comfort, 
 quiet, clothes, food or money. 
 
 The question was born of his trouble, the earthquake, the 
 flight of the prisoners, and his fear of punishment. Thus men 
 wait for age, sickness, poverty and calamity and ask for what 
 should have been settled in the peace and prosperity of earlier 
 days. Life's leading question is not food, drink, money, posi- 
 tion, pleasure, the tariff, the war in Europe, or who will be 
 President, but "Am I saved?" In fifty years what will it 
 matter whether we walked or rode in an auto or street car; 
 wore a hand-me-down or a tailor-made suit ; ate a fifteen-cent 
 lunch or a dollar dinner? 
 
 Men are lost to health, mind, money, position, friends, 
 reputation, character and their souls. 
 
 To be saved is to be free from the power and penalty of sin, 
 and to receive the gift of eternal life and happiness. 
 
 We are "bought with a price." Things are valued, whether 
 a home, picture or statue, according to their cost. The price of 
 our forgiveness was Christ's humble birth. His awful tempta- 
 tion. His mock trial and His infamuos crucifixion. 
 
 Saving faith includes the assent of the intellect and the 
 consent of the will. It is historic, and accepts the birth, life 
 and death of Christ; theologic, believing the divinity of His 
 mission and teaching; poetic, feeling the Christ influence in 
 literature, art and music; and evangelic, believing that Christ 
 "died the just for the unjust" to make atonment for human 
 transgression. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 145 
 
 Greater than shake of mountain, splash of sea or ruin of 
 buildings will be the hour of our death, when earth, home and 
 friends are passing. Now is the accepted time to ask the 
 question, "What must I do to be saved?" There are many 
 roads to hell, but the saddest is that which runs by the Bible, 
 past the cross and through the warning of daily life. 
 
 CATALINA 
 
 CATALINA was discovered by the Spanish navigator, 
 Cabrillo, in 1542, who found many native Indians on 
 the island. Today the wild things are goats, which 
 smell much as the Indians did. Later, Viscaino came 
 in 1602. In the early days, the island was the haunt of free- 
 booters, adventurers and pirates, who sailed out and robbed 
 the rich galleons engaged in the Philippine trade. These 
 pirates have present descendants who are on the lookout 
 for the money of the idle rich. The high spots of the island 
 are Mounts Orizaba and Black Jack that rise 2,000 feet. 
 
 The city of Avalon, Catalina, is unlike the island valley 
 of Avalon in Tennyson's **Morte d 'Arthur," that paradise 
 where the good Celtic heroes went. The journey there formed 
 one of the sources of Dante's poem. If Dante could visit 
 Catalina 's Avalon in season, he might be able to add another 
 canto to his Inferno. I have never visited the Avalon of ro- 
 mance and tradition, but have seen the one at Catalina, with 
 its prose reality and billboards advertising gum, food, drink, 
 kodaks, billiards, ice-cream and dry goods. A sign I distinctly 
 remember was one that pointed a moral, **Our Soda Is as Cold 
 as Charity." This sign is understood and unquestioned by 
 the tight-wad travelers who come here. Classic Avalon had 
 magic apples — what I found here were prickly pears which 
 Mephisto's magic had created to torment. 
 
 Avalon is situated on the landward side of the island, 
 thus protected from the winds and also absolutely shut off 
 from sunset and surf. It makes up for loss of ocean wind by 
 Boreal breaths that keep travelers huddled around a log fire 
 
146 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 or steam radiator. Our visit found it truthfully advertised 
 as a ''winter" resort. The city is made up of cafes, restau- 
 rants, apartments, markets, delicatessens, bath-houses, hotels 
 and tiers of cottages on the mountain-side that bring tears to 
 the eyes of the beauty-lover. 
 
 Catalina lies beautiful in the 27-mile distance, and is a 
 charming little sail from San Pedro — if the weather is good. 
 On near approach one finds the island is bare of foliage, for 
 goats and globe-trotters have worn it off by scampering over 
 its hills. 
 
 Tourists come here to fish and flirt, to bathe and bum. 
 You may live in a hotel, or camp in tents, sit in the open-air 
 Greek theatre, listen to music, go to the movies, tramp or 
 auto to the Summit, the Ranch and Isthmus. Of course, we 
 sailed out in the glass-bottom boats to see the submarine gar- 
 dens of shell, plant and fish. They are very pretty, but like a 
 cabbage to a rose compared with Nassau or Fiji. The Seal 
 Rocks suggest 'Frisco. These seals and the pelican on the 
 wharf were the most interesting inhabitants we met. The seals 
 bask, flap, flop, wink, make a baby cry and vie in style with 
 the rich in the beauty of their sealskins. 
 
 Uncle Sam has a ''submarine'' garden at Long Beach, 
 where we saw one of its specimens floating in the water and 
 diving like a fish. Catalina has its submarine gardens that 
 grow in the green-blue water and raise a crop of kelp and 
 abalone shells. Here dart fish, green, gold and red, in a natural 
 aquarium. They flash through waving forests and foliage. 
 For the benefit of the tourist, who thinks the abalone shell 
 naturally smooth and found in the shape of souvenir spoons, 
 cuff-links and stickpins ,the boat managers employ a diver to 
 stealthily drop over the side of the boat rough abalone shells 
 with the meat cut out. The diver then swims down and brings 
 them up for 25 cents each. He is a good swimmer, but expert 
 fish, the efficient swimmers, give him a glass-eye glance, flip 
 their tails and swish off in disgust. The abalone clings to the 
 rocks as close as a miser to his pocketbook. The Japs go out 
 at low tide and pry them off. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 
 
 147 
 
 KELP 
 
 HE California kelp beds are where the fish and crabs 
 rest at night. As you look through the glassy 
 window of the waves the kelp makes you feel 
 envious of the fish, and you wish you were a 
 mermaid. Kelp is the festoon decoration for Neptune's 
 court, the grass skirt or head-dress crown of the mermaids 
 when they go to deep sea balls or fish balls. 
 
 One of the water sprites in Scottish legend is the * 'Kelpie.'' 
 It is said that when one approaches his drowning fate the 
 Kelpie rises from the wave and pronounces his death sentence. 
 This kelp impresses itself in the sand most beauti- 
 fully. For mural decoration design there is nothing prettier. 
 As it rises and falls with the tide, it is the picture of the 
 Three Graces. Clouds of gnats rise like incense from its bowl- 
 shaped roots when they lie on the shore. At times it resembles 
 a ball and chain some sea monster has slipped off from his 
 hands and feet. 
 
 Chemically, kelp has use as well as beauty, being valuable 
 for sodium carbonate, potash and iodine contents. It is also 
 used as a fertilizer. Seaweed now takes the place of oats for 
 horses in France. "We watched the kelp government ** cutters" 
 between San Pedro and San Diego sailing the kelp beds with 
 their mowing machine knives, lawn mowers of the sea, to 
 cut, collect and carry the weed to the government plants. 
 This kelp, when transformed into potash, is necessary to put 
 Perlmutter Wilhelm out of business. 
 
 Many curious curios are made from kelp — ^bells, bags, 
 baskets, trays, bowls, smoking sets, dishes, vases, little men and 
 women, canoes, pots, pitchers, and gondolas. The kelp leaves 
 are the color and substance of glue. 
 
 A FRENCH COUNTESS 
 
 T Catalina we met a genuine French countess and her 
 sister, who had done Red Cross work in France. The 
 portrait of the elder was in the Luxembourg Gallery 
 in France, and she had acted for some movies on the 
 coast. Hollywood was her temporary home, where **L" 
 
148 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 and I called and were regaled with tea, fresh cakes and a 
 veritable Madame de Stael (not stale) vivacious conversation 
 on travel, music, art, literature, patriotism, and religion. Al- 
 though she was French, I fully understood her good English 
 accent and gesture, as I did the meaning of her young sister, 
 who went to the piano and sang *'I Love You. 
 
 ISLAND VIEWS 
 
 77 
 
 THE guide points out the beauty spots as you sail 
 around the island. One prominent point that attract- 
 ed the nose as well as the eye was Garbage Point. 
 A chapter should be added to the guidebook folder 
 to describe how the tin cans flash in the sun, and to expatiate 
 on the fragrance of the decaying vegetables that are scat- 
 tered in picturesque profusion down the hillside to the wa- 
 ter's edge. 
 
 The views from the 2,000-foot peaks of this island, along 
 the winding mountain roads, are superb. This auto ride made 
 me feel like writing a postscript to De Quincey's *' Glory of 
 Motion.'' The only wild and woolly thing we saw was a sheep 
 standing in the middle of the road disputing our right to the 
 mountain pass. Since it was no Leonidas, we got by. We 
 passed close enough to an eagle aery to see an eagle and his 
 eagle eye. He was as immovable as if mounted on the rock 
 by a taxidermist. "We saw and heard a herd of 100 wild 
 goats. The chauffeur took a shot at them. He missed, and I 
 was glad, for he aimed at a poor, frightened little kid that 
 could scarcely keep up with its ** ma-ma." These goats browse 
 on the brows of the hills. 
 
 A French shepherd lives at the Ranch. He cares fo]M:he 
 sheep and the goats, and more tenderly and intelligently than 
 some parents for their children. He showed us a red fox he 
 had shot, and said he would get enough money for the pelt 
 to buy his wife an afternoon fox-trot dancing dress. He told 
 us how the crows and eagles picked out the little lambs' eyes 
 while asleep, unless the mother sheep watched. He related 
 that some sheep mothers were as refractory as some society 
 
ON THE WARPATH ' 149 
 
 ones. He placed the mothers in a pen and let the lambs nurse 
 through the fence, thus forcing them to take care of their 
 young. After this treatment they were better than the usual 
 lamb mothers. Forcible detainment in the nursery might be 
 tried by some Child's Betterment Society on many inhuman 
 human mothers who run away, neglect their children and 
 leave them to the tender care of a foreign maid and a big 
 milk bottle. 
 
 This keeper had a dog that understood French and sheep. 
 He would make a good dog of war to slip our boys over there. 
 His doggerel was ''paries vous," and if you didn't he couldn't. 
 
 PINE POINTS OF CACTUS 
 
 CFOR Catalina and cactus. Along the route we no- 
 ticed some prickly pears and determined to taste 
 them. This fruit belongs to the vegetable porcupine 
 family. I had never studied this sort of botany, and 
 in my eagerness to taste this mountain fruit I handled it in- 
 discreetly. Trying to get the prickles out of my hand, I slip- 
 ped on the rocky hillside, falling flat into the cactus bush. 
 Now I know how Gulliver felt when the Lilliputians stuck 
 him full of arrows. I was a human pincushion. A paper of 
 needles is as dull as a handful of nails in comparison. Do 
 you get the point? Possession is nine points of the law, but, 
 though I had all on my side, I felt lawless, for ninety-nine 
 points pierced my gloves, shoes and anatomy. For days I 
 spent my vacation in extracting the needle briars. I was 
 worse than nettled — it put me in a prickly heat of anger. 
 There was one good compensation — my wife got a sticker in 
 her tongue, and for weeks she was able to talk only half as 
 much as usual. 
 
 Cactus is used for fruit and confection. One who gathers 
 it should be clad in a suit of armor, wear gauntlets and take 
 hold of it with discretion and sand-paper. Never again! To 
 me, it is a forbidden fruit. I wonder whether Adam would 
 have fallen for a prickly pear instead of an apple. 
 
150 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 ABOARD A PIRATE SHIP 
 
 N 1912 I was in China and sailed up tlie Pearl river 
 from Hongkong to Canton on a steamer that had 
 been fired on by Chinese pirates the night before. 
 We stopped off at the old opium-making town of 
 Macao, where 500 Chinese passengers, huddled in the hold of 
 our ship, were thoroughly searched for smuggled goods before 
 they were allowed to disembark. The day we spent in Canton 
 500 rebel revolutionists were killed. We visited the execution 
 grounds, saw the chief executioner, and, to get a photo, I 
 bared my neck to his knife, which in thirty years had be- 
 headed about 300,000 victims. 
 
 These Chinese memories came to mind when I crossed the 
 Catalina Isthmus and looked down at the old, historic junk, 
 Ning Po, pirate ship, slaver and opium-smuggler. Although 
 she was stuck in the mud, she carried me back to China, and 
 I saw again the Yellow man and Sea, pirate caves, mountains, 
 towns and sampans. 
 
 Like an old sea-dog, I enjoyed the bark, and, after wading 
 through a Yellow Sea of mud, climbed the ladder and crawled 
 over the side of the vessel as nimbly as any pirate. It was a 
 wood ship made in 1753 of camphor and ironwood that didn't 
 rust. The only rust was on the old chains and cannon on her 
 deck. The odor of camphor had been smothered by the scent 
 of blood that had washed her deck. Though built crudely and 
 long ago, its deck boards were held together, not by oakum, 
 but bv a sort of cement that now is one of the lost arts. This 
 Old Ironsides may not be proof against a submarine torpedo, 
 but is against the toredo, that bore of a little worm that augurs 
 ill for modern wooden ships. A sign on the deck said it was 
 *' extremely dangerous'' to walk around the decks, on account 
 of the broken timbers, open hatches and debris. Ning Po 
 means *' Peaceful Wave," yet I thought of its blood-red record, 
 how it had been literally launched on a wave of crime, and 
 how her big, rough camphor ribs had shaken with diabolical 
 glee at the torture of slaves and outlaws. 
 
 Our party (for I was afraid to be alone) went down into 
 an officer's room and brought up some old square bamboo 
 
ON THE WARPATH 151 
 
 stools. The table board was a board of the deck, and on it we 
 piled enough food for a crew. Here we sat and ate our fill. 
 Our meal was not composed of chop suey, rice, fish, chicken, 
 tea, birds' nests, nuts and ginger, but of coffee, pickles, eggs, 
 sandwiches, cakes, cookies, cheese, crackers, etc. Zest was 
 given to our appetites because we sat stuffing by the side of the 
 **Kee Long," or Starvation Cage, where poor victims had been 
 imprisoned like a chicken in a coop with its head fastened 
 outside. They were denied food and drink until enforced fast 
 led to slow death. 
 
 The stern of this junk was very gay with colored fantastic 
 figures resembling a Chinese puzzle. The most striking orna- 
 ment was a huge yellow-painted dragon with twisted tail. 
 What a fitting mascot for a pirate ship, never deserting the 
 ship as it sank and rose, and looking like a sea-serpent on the 
 surface of the wave. The artist who painted it must have been 
 inspired with some of the smuggled opium the ship carried. 
 There were some ropes dangling over the stern, and at a dis- 
 tance it looked as though some sailors had caught the dragon, 
 but were unable to land him on deck. The immense coils of 
 rattan and bamboo ropes on the deck seemed like other sea- 
 serpents coiled and ready to strike. 
 
 The Ning Po was a real sea dragon in shape according to 
 her builder's plans. The open bow was the mouth, the big, 
 bulging eyes outlined the head, the sails and masts were the 
 fins, the fantastically carved high stern was the big tail, 
 while the wake of the sea appeared to be a slimy trail. 
 
 Down, down we groped into a dark, damp, dungeon hold 
 where prisoners had been thrown, branded and kept hungry 
 like wild beasts in a cage. Here, cabined and confined, with 
 clank of chain and oath, these Chinese devils were held. T 
 flashed my lantern over bunks and holes dark as the deeds 
 that had been committed. Not a sound or sight of life, not 
 even a rat in this old human trap. Parts of the ship were as 
 dry as a remainder biscuit after a sea voyage, others were 
 damp. From deck to keel we discovered some nine water 
 compartments said to be the first models in ship-building. 
 
 A derelict craft for derelicts! What water and blood- 
 soaked mats, what opium-dreams, what a hell-craft manned 
 
152 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 by fiends! From this living death dungeon men were glad 
 to be brought up on deck and pay the extreme penalty, to wear 
 the **Kang" board collars around their necks, to be hung up 
 in the "Kee Long" starvation cage, to have confessions torn 
 out of them by thumb-screws, to be whipped with iron flails, 
 to have their limbs crushed with bone-breakers, to be made a 
 target for spears, or be beheaded with ugly big knives. If 
 ghosts return to favored haunts, I am certain they give this 
 ship a wide berth. 
 
 I picked up a small Chinese sandal lying in a cob-webbed 
 corner of the boat. Whose was it and why there, on what 
 errand of smuggled mercy or murder had it come? I kept it 
 as a cheerful souvenir. 
 
 What a pleasure yacht this was with its dance of death 
 and music of torment. The Ning Po was sister ship to that 
 other floating hell, the ''Success." There was a joss-house 
 at the stern hatch entrance to the lower deck dungeon. It 
 was built like a dog-house. I suppose the pious executioner 
 prayed here for a skilful strong arm to hack off the heads of 
 the prisoners. The crudest savages always have the most 
 striking creed. Not all the Gods of the Chinese heaven could 
 condone the crimes committed on this boat by these smug 
 smugglers who offered prayers for success in new deviltry. 
 
 The poor Ning Po is now idle as a painted ship upon a 
 painted ocean. When she was launched in 1753 she was 
 called **Kin Tai Fong.'^ She was very fleet and used as a 
 Chinese merchant ship. She was so fast as to elude all other 
 ships and easily became a smuggler, slaver and pirate ship, 
 attacking whatever she found afloat and even warring against 
 unprotected coast villages. She was the best armed craft of 
 her time and landed on everything big and small, afloat or 
 on shore. Rebellious outbreaks were frequent, and being 
 speedy, she became a warship and interferred with the opium 
 trade of the British East Indies that up to 1834 had a monop- 
 oly of the opium trade. Pious England wanted all, pirate 
 Ning Po wanted some, so Lord Napier came over to arbitrate 
 the matter and at once demanded the seizure of the pirate 
 Ning Po. The Lord died in 1835 and six years later the Ning 
 Po launched into a new sea of crime, making the green and 
 
ON THE WARPATH 153 
 
 yellow one red. Then the Chinese government went after this 
 wanton pirate mistress of the sea, captured her and made her 
 a prison-ship for smugglers and pirates at the mouth of the 
 Tetsieh river. But there were so many aboard, the cost of 
 living so high, that the Hooverizing captain cut down the food 
 by cutting off the heads of the 158 pirate and smuggler pris- 
 oners. What a bloody business — what gruesome deck sports — 
 what a shuffle-board game as Death took these pigtail celebri- 
 ties and shuffled off their mortal coil! 
 
 During the Taiping rebellion in 1861 the rebels seized old 
 Ning Po, and because of her size and speed, converted her into 
 a transport. Still it was a losing game. Colonel *' Chinese" 
 Gordon, in command of the imperial forces against the Tai- 
 ping rebels, disliked the heathen name ''Kin Tai Fong," 
 changing it to Ning Po after the city of that name. 
 
 The name of the ship was changed, but not her nature. 
 From 1864 to 1910 the N. P. was N. G. and by turns a smuggler 
 and pirate. Her decks were cleared for military service in 
 the rebellion against the Manchus, when she brought her old 
 guns and shot up the Republicans. Her flag at the mainmast 
 was called, "Pah Kwa," which I suppose is equal to ''Skull 
 and crossbones." It was designed by Fuh-Hi some few years 
 before (3222 B. C). As the Ancient Mariner was punished 
 for his crime against the albatross, so this ship was punished 
 for her sins against men. 
 
 June 6, 1912, she sailed from Shanghai and six days later 
 was wrecked in a typhoon, losing two of her white crew. 
 Forced to put back to Shanghai for repairs, she set out again 
 September 16th with a crew of Chinese. Nine days later she 
 was wrecked in another typhoon during which time the crew 
 mutinied and left her a mere floating hulk without rudder or 
 sails. Then her mate and three Chinese rowed three hundred 
 and twenty miles to Shimidzu and hailed a cruiser to tow the 
 old girl into port. Her deserting mutinous crew was put in 
 irons and sent back to Qhina. Then came the grand finale. A 
 white crew was signed and once more she headed out, Decem- 
 ber 22nd, 1912, reaching San Pedro February, 19th, 1913, 
 after sailing 7,000 miles in 58 days. The Americans bought 
 her, made her a show boat and an object lesson. 
 
154 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 Poor Ning Po, still in the mud, thy old hulk reflected in 
 the rising tide and with no thrill of life along thy keel ! What 
 dost thou think of thy tempest-tossed career, thy ups and 
 downs, thy stirring scenes and visits to f ar-aw^ay climes ? Dost 
 thou long for further venture quest, or hast thou confessed 
 and forsaken thy sins of warship and art now in they peaceful 
 haven of worship? Chinese pirate-junk! thou Junker-spirited 
 craft, can all the waters of thy oft-sailed Pacific cleanse thee 
 from thy blood-stained past? Yet as a Chinese sea monster 
 thou art outclassed and out-cursed forever by the infernal 
 German submarine that sent the Lusitania to her Atlantic 
 grave. 
 
 PISH TALES 
 
 HE ban should be placed on the Banning Steamship 
 Co. which owns Catalina. Not satisfied with disfig- 
 uring the beauty of the bay and surrounding hills 
 with ugly hostelries, the company dynamited Sugar 
 Loaf, one of the characteristic formations the island is known 
 by in photo and art at home and abroad. They tore it down 
 to build a hotel in its place, but Nature resented it and refused 
 to give them a strong foundation for the projected hotel site. 
 So now the beauty of the point is lost, as well as the site, the 
 money and the work. Yet one of the horns remains. It re- 
 sembles a rhino's. The Banning 's attacked one horn of the 
 dilemma, and I am confident they will let this one alone. 
 
 The long pier that appears to be just a boat dock, is a fish 
 pier whose fishermen are the peers of any Isaac Waltons. The 
 wharf is loaded with fishermen, who are not fishing for any- 
 thing except the tourist. They guarantee you poles, bait, 
 launch, grounds, and everything but fish, for $10.00 a day. 
 
 We went out with ''Yellowtail John" in his Dragon 
 Launch, starting in the morning at seven and returning at 
 twelve. He is called Yellowtail, not from the color of his 
 shirt, but because he has the record for catching the most 
 yellowtail. Asked what a yellowtail was, he replied, **Any 
 
ON THE WARPATH 155 
 
 carangoid fish of the genus seriola/* He further informed us 
 that the Seriola Dorsalis and Sebastichthys flavidus were 
 native to the Californian coast and valuable for food. 
 
 Early in the cold and rough sea morning the Dragon took 
 us out five miles. 'Tis said a dolphin took Arion and his lyre 
 on his back to the shore — the Dragon took us back to the 
 shore with the liar who said he was sure we would get some 
 fish. The only fish we had were those we took for bait. "We 
 had the best of everything, a modern expensive launch, forty- 
 dollar fishpole and eighteen-dollar reel and line. Our yellow- 
 tail fisherman chugged by kelp beds and threw over enticing 
 fish-bait, but it was a little too early for the big fellows to get 
 up from their ocean bed for breakfast. They had evidently 
 attended a fish function the night before. 
 
 The boat rolled, we trolled, grew cold and felt sold. About 
 lunch time when the sun came out and made me sleepy, I got 
 a bite. Zing — went the reel, singing, **yellowtail, barracuda, 
 bonita, tarpon, Jew, swordfish." The line went out about 
 300 feet. I braced my two feet to pull him in and Yellowtail 
 John hurried over to me, after stopping the boat. He said, *'0, 
 you got a bigga one." Then he placed a leather belt and. 
 socket around my waist. I thought he was about to put a 
 flag pole in it on which to run up a signal of distress for fear 
 we might be carried out to sea by this monster of the deep. 
 Instead, he put my fish pole in the socket and then showed me 
 how to play fast and loose with the fish, reeling in as I lowered 
 the pole. "When I had him within 100 feet and John was 
 reaching for the gaff to land him, my line went plumb down 
 300 feet. From the strength of the pull my guide said it was 
 a 50-pound fish at least. My, how I wanted him! I grew hot, 
 *'L" dropped his pole, leaning over the side of the boat with 
 his kodak to snap the fish as I landed him. Then, sad to relate, 
 the fish made off with my bait, line and hook, and John con- 
 soled me by saying that a shark had gobbled up my 50-pound 
 catch. This all happened very quickly and recalled Shakes- 
 peare's lines: 
 
 'Master, I marvel how the fishes live in the sea. 
 
 Why, as men do a-land ; the great ones eat up the little ones. 
 
156 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 Thus ends my yellow fish tale. Returning, we saw another 
 fisherman who had the same bad luck of losing fish. He felt 
 bad. I am sorry to say I felt a little better, for in this lonely 
 world of ours misery loves company. This was my Jonah day, 
 though it was the Dragon and no "whale" that took me 
 ashore. 
 
 These Catalina waters sport a leaping tuna that weighs 
 from 80 to 250 pounds and can make record jumps. There 
 is the sword fish, a good fighter who weighs from 100 to 350 
 pounds. The albicore, a small tuna, is from 15 to 60 pounds 
 and like him in weight is the yellowtail. Then there is the 
 white sea bass from 30 to 70 pounds, and the black sea bass 
 who tips the scales from 100 to 450 pounds. Take your choice 
 of barracuda, bonita, rock bass, sheepshead, whitefish and 
 others and you may tackle them all with light tackle. While 
 here at Avalon I saw these varieties of fish — dried and stuffed 
 for ornament by taxidermists, or pictured on postal cards. 
 
 There are many big fish in this Pacific fish pond. At New- 
 port Beach one morning I watched two boat crews harpooning 
 a whale. It was great sport and all the beach people were 
 there to see it. I lacked just one thing to make it complete, 
 a case of Massolt's famous "Whale Brand Ginger Ale.'' But 
 that whale, like my big fish, got away and perhaps the two 
 are giving us the laugh and comparing hooks and nooks. At 
 one time I saw 17 Jap fish boats draw in 30 tons of smelt. 
 These were the Jap-baiters I liked — I detest the other Cali- 
 fornia kind. Many a time the Newport Beach boys went out 
 and brought in nets of fish that netted them big money. 
 
 There is some Jew-baiting here but of a peaceful nature — 
 baiting hooks for Jew-fish. I saw one tip the scales at 250 
 pounds, and the day before I left California I helped haul a 
 480 pounder through the breakers. When he was first towed 
 into the breakers he made a break for liberty, but once drawn 
 up on shore he was killed and carved. His stomach was 
 filled with young sharks, stingarees, mackerel and many other 
 kinds of fish. He was a whole fish market in himself. He is 
 called "Jew-fish," perhaps, from his prominent nose, the 
 golden color of his scales and the jewelry he wears. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 157 
 
 Here is a true fish story. Listen! This is the fishing 
 ground of the world. I was skeptical after my failure at 
 Catalina, but became converted later when I caught fish with- 
 out going out to sea. I caught them all cleaned, boiled, spiced 
 in oil and put up in cans. These fish came in schools down 
 by a school house on the beach. I am not surprised because 
 it was a beautiful building, the teachers are very attractive, 
 the course efficient, and the scholars well-behaved and recep- 
 tive. All I had to do was to walk out on the beach and catch 
 these fish, in oblong cans such as I had often paid 15 to 30 
 cents for. I gathered such a pile of them that I went back 
 for a fisherman's net bag, packed up several dozen and could 
 have had more. This is a flight of fact not fancy. If you belong 
 to the family of doubting Thomases you may talk to any fish- 
 erman between San Pedro and Laguna who will grind his bare 
 brown heel upon the sand and say, '*Sure.'^ 
 
 I brought my catch to the wharf and by chance met the 
 official fish inspector. He explained the catch by saying that 
 when the fish were not satisfactory in size and weight to the 
 factory canners, they were *' canned," that is, taken out into 
 a boat, dumped into the sea, and so eventually washed ashore. 
 Fishermen along these beaches can foretell the run of canned 
 fish. This isn't ptomaine stuff, for they eat them and sell 
 their fresh catch. The cannery waste of fish is a shining 
 example of much food conservation along the coast. In order 
 to conserve food I went down to the big pier which has more 
 legs than a centipede. It sounds paradoxical, but its weak 
 legs and supports have well developed *^ mussels" of which 
 they make excellent soup. 
 
 HUMAN SHARKS 
 
 HE traveler finds many sharks in sea and on land. 
 The man-eating fish destroys the body but the land- 
 shark destroys the soul. 
 
 The name ''shark" refers to sharp teeth which 
 can cut and kill. There are over 150 species of sharks, the 
 fierce man-eaters being the white shark 25 feet long and the 
 
158 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 blue shark from 15 to 20 feet. One of the best known is the 
 ''basking shark" that grows to the length of 35 and 40 feet, 
 though he is less voracious and vicious than some of the other 
 members of his family. 
 
 While the home of the shark is generally in warm seas 
 he occasionally visits our Atlantic sea-board for a vacation 
 and amuses himself in the surf by eating up the bathers. 
 However, the biter is sometimes bitten and when caught and 
 killed is put to good use. His rough skin is used for sand- 
 paper, his fins for gelatin, liver for oil, teeth for ornaments and 
 spine for canes. 
 
 In the South Seas I found he had been worshiped as a 
 god, books of legends have been written about him, and tem- 
 ples were built in his honor where sacred keepers protected 
 him as a patron deity. The natives' belief in transmigration 
 led them to feed the dead bodies of the worshipers to their 
 favorite shark gods. 
 
 Like the sea gulls, the ** white wings'* of the air, he is the 
 scavenger of the deep and follows the ship for the refuse food 
 cast overboard. We dread his murderous sharkship, but the 
 natives of the South Seas have no fear and will jump from 
 their canoes and do him battle. In Rarotonga they have shark 
 hunts and visit some deep sea cavern where the shark is taking 
 his noon nap, tickle him on his sides, put a rope around his 
 tail and pull him up. 
 
 Of the human ''shark" nothing nice or serviceable can be 
 said. He is defined as a swindler and a trickster and the 
 mention of his name generally suggests the usurer who loans 
 money at a high rate of interest. 
 
 As the water sharks are variously called "hammerheads," 
 "dog-fish," "sand," "mackerel" and "thresher," so the hu- 
 man shark is known by different names. In the legend the 
 shark god can take any shape he chooses, even human form. 
 So sin takes attractive form and seems most a saint when most 
 a devil. If a man is what he does, the following are some of 
 the sharks that prey on society always and everywhere : 
 
 BAD BOOKS that laugh at old age, mock at sin, scorn 
 the Bible and its Saviour, scoff at marriage and encourage 
 infidelity, anarchy, impurity and dishonesty. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 159 
 
 BOOZE that men drink without reason and abuse and so 
 are led by degenerating steps from mild pleasure to murderous 
 passion. Mixed drinks taken in summer to cool and in winter 
 to warm are also taken for insomnia, appetite, life's wedding 
 or death's funeral. 
 
 GAMBLING — Men who can't afford the time or money, try 
 to get something for nothing, or much for little, and are often 
 urged to the desperation of stealing and suicide. 
 
 GIRLS — The most dangerous girl at the seaside resort is 
 not a mere maid, but a merry mermaid and sharky siren who 
 makes destruction please with an impurity that touches man's 
 body, mind and soul. 
 
 POLITICS — Politicians with party and no principle, with 
 penitentiary convictions and no convictions of patriotism, 
 shout for peace or war, God or Devil, as it suits them, and lie 
 in wait for the ignorant voter. 
 
 PLEASURES — Joy-rides, beach familiarities, ballroom un- 
 draperies, sex-thrill dancing are dangers as deadly as those of 
 the sharky deep. 
 
 COMMERCE — Business is the shark that takes a man for 
 a sucker or client, sells him city lots under water, loans him 
 money at compound interest, mortgages the little farm or 
 home, and in a hundred different ways tries to catch his victim 
 and pull him under. 
 
 CHURCH — No monster of the deep is so horrible and mur- 
 derous as anything under the guise of religion and salvation 
 that damns the human family's body to slavery, mind to 
 ignorance and soul to superstition. 
 
 Avoid the shark on land and sea — don't court danger and 
 death — don't wade into the deep and dangerous waters for 
 pleasure, when you may stay nearer the shore with satisfac- 
 tion and safety. 
 
160 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 AN ACCOMPLISHED ARCHANGEL 
 
 
 AN GABRIEL MISSION is dedicated to the archangel 
 Gabriel. According to Scripture, Gabriel was the 
 chief angel sent to the prophet Daniel to explain his 
 vision; to Zacharias, to announce the birth of John 
 the Baptist ; and six months later, to announce to the A^irgin 
 Mary the birth of the world's Saviour. Gabriel is heaven's 
 official announcer, but I am sure he would be the denouncer 
 and renouncer of much that is done here under his name. The 
 Targums make him the destroyer of Sennacherib's army — it 
 would be well for him to come here and destroy a few of the 
 Mission money-traffickers. The Mohammedans make Gabriel 
 the dictator and revealer of the Koran. There are some things 
 more marvellous at San Gabriel than any Arabians dreamed 
 of by day or night. 
 
 The word Gabriel means *'Man of God." He was a good 
 linguist and is veraciously said to have taught Joseph the 
 seventy languages of the world — the Babel at the Mission 
 would keep him busy. He is said to have been sent on special 
 missions to the servants of God and against their enemies — 
 it wouldn't take him long to decide what to do here. Next to 
 Satan, Gabriel was the chief angel in Milton's Paradise Lost 
 and is also put in charge of one of the gates in Paradise. In 
 the Pseudo-graphic books he is glorified as one of the four 
 great angels who stand at the four sides of God's throne 
 acting as the guardians of the four parts of the globe. As 
 musician, he is celestial trumpeter. Many players put their 
 hearers to sleep or kill them, but Gabriel can raise the dead. 
 In California Gabriel's mission is to raise money, and its 
 silver tone bells always play the one tune, *^Dig Up." 
 
 St. Michael is a little higher than Gabriel in the heavenly 
 hierarchy. Byron, in his ** Vision of Judgment," says that 
 Michael changed colors: 
 
 **When Michael saw his host, he first grew pale 
 As angels can; next, like Italian twilight, 
 He turn'd all colours — as a peacock's tail, 
 
 Or sunset swimming through a Gothic skylight 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 161 
 
 In some old abbey, or a trout not stale, 
 
 Or distant lightning on the horizon by night, 
 Or a fresh rainbow, or a grand review 
 Or thirty regiments in red, green and blue." 
 
 Gabriel would blush all these colors if he knew all that 
 was going on at his Mission here. 
 
 SAN GABRIEL'S GOLD 
 
 THERE are special rates and routes to the San Gabriel 
 Mission and all roads are filled by autos and cars 
 leading to this Rome. The Mission was founded in 
 1771, had many converts and is one of the most 
 prosperous missions because situated in the San Gabriel valley. 
 Paying an admission we entered the old monastery building. 
 The first thing I saw was a picture of Mary Magdalene over 
 the doorway, with a notice under it, ''Mary Magdalene for 
 sale $200." We knew Mary's character was not as white as 
 the other classic Mary's lamb, and further that it was on the 
 market, but didn't know the price was $200. Gold is still the 
 "price of many a crime untold" and one need never be sur- 
 prised at what he finds in a monastery. This building has 
 been converted into a museum. 
 
 Within we saw silver and ivory statues, and votive offer- 
 ings, of gold, silver and other metals, and rich vestments. All 
 seemed out of harmony with the simple creed of the Franciscan 
 Order that founded this place, for you remember it was the 
 spirit of the great St. Francis Assissi who preached that dis- 
 ciples of Christ should not possess gold, silver, script, coats, 
 shoes and staff, but confine their time and energy to exhorting 
 sinners to repentance. 
 
 The visitor sees framed on the wall the handwriting of 
 San Junipero Serra, president and founder of the California 
 missions. Some read between the lines another ''handwriting 
 on the wall" — this does not refer to the scribbled scrawls of 
 traveling fools. 
 
 o 
 
162 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 Th^re is no lack of pictures in this Mission. This ascetic 
 
 shrine has many very spiritual paintings, calculated to lead 
 
 from earth to heaven, such as *' Salome," ''Bathsheba Leaving 
 
 the Bath, ' ' and the * ' Massacre of the Innocents. ' ' Of this last 
 
 picture the official church guide book innocently says it is 
 
 *' noted for its freshness and expression in harmony with the 
 
 delicacy of its execution." 
 
 Several of the canvasses are attributed to Murillo and his 
 School. He must have been in the kindergarten when he 
 daubed these. I have been to Murillo 's home, studio and gal- 
 lery, and have seen his collections in Seville, but these dub 
 daubs were never conceived in the brain or executed by the 
 hand of him who gave the world ^'The Immaculate Concep- 
 tion" and scores of pictures representing religious characters 
 and scenes, as well as humanity in its wild Gypsy and poverty- 
 stricken condition. 
 
 I saw the ''first confessional box." I must confess I wish 
 it were the last. There was an old arm chair in which these 
 fathers had an easy time. We climbed the dingy, dusty stair- 
 way to the attic and discovered a large assortment of wine 
 bottles — a strange place for bottles, and strangest of all that 
 they were empty. Crossing the flat roof we came to the bells 
 said to be "mellow" as wine. The one I touched with m^ 
 umbrella gave a hard metallic sound. The poet says the 
 ''tocsin of the soul" is the dinner bell, but the din in this beli 
 was a "toxin" poison to my soul. 
 
 In the old days the Father's care of their children was seen 
 in a number of ways, and one of them was the nunnery, or 
 Monjerio. An officer called a Majordomo took the little eleven 
 year old girls and the wives of absent husbands, and locked 
 them at night in a separate building, turning over the keys 
 to the padres who returned them next morning to an official, 
 who unlocked the door and let them out. Such care was equal 
 to that of a sultan for his harem. This is a skeptical age today 
 and this old practise has fallen into disuse. 
 
 The Fathers see that the Mission is well kept up and in 
 repair, but through an artist's eye it would look better if it 
 were left to the caretaker, Father Time. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 163 
 
 Tasso moaned his ** Lament'* over Jerusalem and C. W. 
 Stoddard sings his grief over San Gabriel, sighing that all 
 the beauty, glory and power of San Gabriel are gone — 
 
 **Gone to the wielders of power, 
 The misers and minters of money ; 
 Gone for the greed that is their creed. ' * 
 
 He takes on as though the church were bankrupt on ac- 
 count of its enemies. The simple fact is, that it is one of the 
 richest gold mines in California. His lines describe its clerics 
 to perfection. 
 
 In 1822 the Mission owned all the land in sight. It was a 
 big real estate and cattle ranch affair with the Indians working 
 for the price of food, clothing and shelter — a safe investment. 
 In 1817 the Indian population was the highest, reaching over 
 1,700, and in 1829 the church owned 15,000 sheep and 25,000 
 cattle. It was high time this ** corner" in California was 
 broken up and confiscated in 1832 by the Mexican government. 
 California is a fruitful country and this planted colony thrived 
 well. 
 
 THE MISSION PLAY 
 
 THE Mission Play's the thing to catch the coin of the 
 people. In its mercenary aspect it resembles the 
 Passion Play of Oberammergau. It is built along the 
 order of the old Miracle Play, and it is a miracle how 
 it has run from 1912 for a thousand performances which con- 
 tained so little dramatic unity and so small a demand on the 
 mind of the audience and actors. As an amateur performance 
 in a religious college, for a one night stand, it does very well. 
 From first to last curtain fall it is an account of a procession 
 of church fathers, with holy rivalry boast of what great things 
 they did for the Indians and how broken-heartedly sad it is 
 that a cross is no longer planted on every mountain top. 
 
164 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 The orchestra's playing was hard work and gave little 
 inspiration, which may account for the poor work of the 
 actors. The monotony of this religious propaganda was 
 broken with the high spots of an Indian and Spanish dance. 
 The intermissions between acts are long enough to afford the 
 audience no time to get a drink or sandwich, only to follow a 
 padre's advice to inspect and buy the religious curios and 
 booklets, and walk around to see the replicas of the 21 
 Missions. 
 
 After an obscure pantomimic prelude, when the Indians 
 came out and looked as if they were frightened at the audience 
 and then ran off the stage, there are three acts: First, the 
 founding of the missions; second, the missions in their glory; 
 third, the missions in ruins. To this might be added an epi- 
 logue of the missions' financial prosperity. The play is a sad, 
 sad story. The old men look thoughtful, the old ladies weep 
 and both prepare themselves to sacrifice their cash for curios 
 and contributions to the poor, rich church. 
 
 TRINITY GRAPE VINE 
 
 THE Trinity grape vine, a stone's throw from the 
 Mission, is said to be the largest in the world. It is 
 over 9 feet in circumference, covering 10,000 square 
 feet with roots extending more than 200 feet in every 
 direction. It is called Trinity because of the three branches 
 growing from one root. This would have made a fine lay out 
 for Noah, and as to Bacchus, though the fruit is small, there is 
 an abundance of it. We picked the grapes surreptitiously. 
 They were sweet, but not enough of them to get drunk on. 
 This biggest vine bears the smallest grapes. The leaves are 
 twelve inches across, and should you get a headache from too 
 much wine you could wrap your forehead up in a leaf 
 warranted to cure head ache and fever. This vine is in the 
 patio of Ramona 's house, but Ramona was out. I left my card 
 hoping to call again. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 165 
 
 THE ANGELUS OR LIBERTY BELL? 
 
 THE San Gabriel bells suggest the Angelus, rung in 
 honor of the archangel Gabriel's announcement to 
 the Virgin that she was to be the mother of the 
 world's Redeemer. The word Angelus recalls the 
 recent attempt of Congress to nationalize a Roman Catholic 
 prayer. 
 
 The Angelus is the name of a popular picture painted by 
 the celebrated French artist, Jean Francois Millet, who, weary 
 of being called ''one who paints nothing but nude women," 
 spent his later years in portraying the peasant life from which 
 he sprang. In 1859 he gave the world his ** Angelus," the 
 picture of a poor peasant man and woman, meanly dressed, 
 standing 'mid the brown clods, with a wheelbarrow, a big 
 fork, and potatoes in a basket nearby. Their heads are bowed 
 and their hands mutely clasped in prayer as they listen to the 
 sound of the Angelus bell from the little church in the. 
 distance. 
 
 The Angelus bell takes its name from angelus domini, 
 which, according to Luke, preceded the angel's salutation to 
 the Virgin Mary. In 1326 Pope John XXII ordered that in 
 Roman Catholic countries a bell should be rung thrice daily 
 at the sound of which the faithful were to repeat three *'aves." 
 Now this Ave Maria, or Angelica Salutatio, is a Roman Catho- 
 lic prayer addressed to the Virgin. To this there was added 
 in the fifteenth century, ''Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for 
 us sinners, now and in the hour of our death." 
 
 What St. Peter key was it that enabled some one high in 
 political office to get into the Senate, that sultry Saturday 
 afternoon, when only a few senators were present, and wake 
 their sleepy ears with the sound of the Angelus request that 
 President Wilson should command all United States citizens 
 to offer a daily Angelus prayer? Who were the cowardly 
 senators who endorsed this request of a Jesuitical minion of 
 the Roman Catholic church — corrupt in doctrine, worship and 
 practice — to force this Angelus on this Puritan, Protestant, 
 patriotic nation? Who was this clerical Kaiserite who would 
 have 100,000,000 inhabitants bow to the Angelus bell? The 
 
166 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 whole bigoted business was unfair and un-American. No mere 
 man or woman born, in or out of the president's chair, has a 
 right to put the imprimatur on a sectarian prayer for universal 
 observance. The move was damnably sectarian, and when we 
 remove the absolute separation of church and state, America 
 will remove the only thing that makes and maintains her 
 national peace, prosperity and position. 
 
 True American citizens will always resent everything that 
 savours of political or ecclesiastical autocracy. To sanction 
 such a sectional prayer would be to advertise to the world 
 that the national church of U. S. was Roman Catholic, which 
 God knows it is not and never will be, so long as our govern- 
 ment remembers that, ''Congress shall make no law respecting 
 religion nor prohibiting the free exercise thereof." Thank 
 God America has no such incestuous union of church and state 
 as exists in Europe. We protest this subtle move for the 
 Angelus because church and state are separate — because it is 
 a sectarian prayer only found in Roman Catholic prayer-books 
 — because it is a prayer to the Virgin Mary and not to God 
 — because it has no reference to our Allied war and does not 
 pray for our victory, the enemy's defeat and the peace of the 
 whole world. 
 
 This big fight is to make the world safe for democracy, 
 that is, to utterly destroy the one-man power in Europe, be 
 that power political or clerical. Vaticanism and Imperialism 
 are un-American in spirit and substance ; one enslaves the soul, 
 and the other the body; one has its head in Rome, the other 
 in Berlin. The Kaiser is the head of a militaristic Prussianism 
 guilty of hell-hearted atrocity. The Pope is the head of a 
 church which inculcated and practised the Inquisition, hell's 
 masterpiece for all time. I would as soon be the subject of 
 the Kaiser as an abject of the Pope. 
 
 The Philadelphia Liberty bell, and not the Roman Angelus 
 bell, is the only bell Uncle Sam can recognize and ring. Let 
 other bells ring on Saturday, Sunday, any or every day of 
 the week, so long as they are not a moral nuisance to the 
 neighborhood in which people want to sleep and rest. Let 
 the bell sound from church, chapel, Buddhist or Confucian 
 temple so long as it does not teach in spirit or substance dis- 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 167 
 
 loyalty to the laws of our land. Let each race and religion 
 have a bell and be its own bell-ringer when and where it 
 pleases, but let no one church with a political pull tell our 
 senators to favor a law sanctioning the ringing of any denomi- 
 national prayer-bell at the sound of which free-born citizens 
 shall pause, bend, bow and pray. Just because the President 
 has a Jesuit for a private secretary is no reason why the nation 
 should follow in his steps to St. Peter's. 
 
 America's ideal is the Liberty Bell with its Bible motto, 
 *' Proclaim liberty throughout the world and to all the inhabi- 
 tants thereof." May this bell never be exchanged for the 
 Angelus, with its ''Ave Maria", rung by Papal hands that have 
 burned the Bible, killed those who read it and who stood for 
 the freedom it taught, thrust it out from our public schools, 
 and today seek to strangle our American liberty-loving ideals, 
 aims and institutions. When we finish the war in Europe 
 there will be one here, the biggest and best of all, if political 
 Romanism tries to put a cross instead of a flag over our public 
 schools, and substitutes a prayer-book for the Declaration of 
 Independence, the catechism for the Constitution, an "Ave 
 Maria" for **My Country 'Tis of Thee," and an Angelus 
 prayer for a Liberty Bell's patriotic ring. 
 
 BOYCOTTS AND BIGOTS 
 
 MONG other un-American things this church practises 
 is the boycott, which should go back to Ireland 
 whence it came. The subtlest serpent, next to the 
 one in Eden, comes from the Tiber and seeks to 
 
 poison and strangle, with silence and suppression, those who 
 
 resist her attack. 
 
 Not long ago in Minnesota it was necessary for some of 
 my patriotic American friends to arm themselves and guard 
 the hall, where I was making a **good citizenship" speech, 
 against a cowardly clerical attack. In Minneapolis my books 
 were removed from certain stores on the threat of a religious 
 boycott. The different theatres, where I have held my People's 
 
168 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 Church services for all creeds, classes and conditions, were 
 threatened and boycotted by members of this same, un-Ameri- 
 can, un-scriptural church. 
 
 Recently in the local press I read of a man on trial who 
 was accused of threatening to shoot an ex- judge named John 
 McGee. Yet it was this same John McGee, an intolerant mem- 
 ber of the most intolerant church in the world, who told me 
 that he was sorry that he didn't have a gun to shoot me when 
 I was making a patriotic address, in the spirit of Washington 
 and Lincoln, on the same platform with General Nelson A. 
 Miles. This ex-judge uses his church's autocratic methods in 
 the Minnesota Safety Commission which over a year ago I 
 declared to be ''unsafe, unfair, untruthful, unnecessary, un- 
 authorized, unconstitutional, and unpatriotic," A commission 
 ought to be put out of commission that draws a mystic circle 
 about itself and in the spirit of Cardinal Richelieu says, ''If 
 you dare to step across this dead line we will hurl the curse 
 of our high political office upon your defenseless head.'* 
 
 We are told that England has an accredited minister to 
 the Vatican; that the Vatican has established a "Chinese 
 Alliance;" that after an eight year's break the Vatican has 
 resumed diplomatic relations with Portugal; and that these 
 are good examples for Japan and the United States to follow. 
 No true American will stand for this. Let the Pacific Golden 
 Gate and the Atlantic harbor gate be shut to any such dele- 
 gate — let the official representative of this mother of barbari- 
 ties and mistress of darkness be relegated to the gates of 
 Hades where the beacon fires of liberty are never kindled. 
 
 Why was the late lamented John Purroy Mitchel defeated 
 
 for re-election for mayor of New York? Because he stood for 
 
 the public school and justice for all creeds against a corrupt, 
 
 clerical clique which sought to overthrow the school and rob 
 the public tax-payer for its private purse and priestly propa- 
 ganda. 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 169 
 
 FREEMASONS AND K. O.'S 
 
 lECRETARY BAKER, whom the Administration's 
 press agent Mr. Creel would have us believe was the 
 equal or superior of War Secretary Stanton, first used 
 U his hands for the K. C.'s and his foot for the Free- 
 masons. His order was that no secret fraternity, except the 
 K. C.'s, could erect lodge rooms in the national army canton- 
 ments. But he was finally made to see the error of his ways, 
 and members of the society of which George Washington was 
 an honored member, demanded an equal privilege and got it. 
 Why not? Our Capitol's corner stone was laid with Masonic 
 celebration. Our very government is known to be the result 
 of the Revolution which was planned and opened by New 
 England Masons. It is a matter of record that every mem- 
 ber of the Committee of Safety, including Doctor Warren and 
 Paul Revere, who took part in hiding munitions at Concord 
 and later fought in the first battles of the Revolution, were 
 Masons. When Daniel Webster dedicated the Bunker Hill 
 monument, he declared that the grand lodge room of a Massa- 
 chusetts Grand Lodge of Masons, was the headquarters of the 
 Revolution. Masonic belief today is what it was then and 
 always will be — an unending opposition to any foreign com- 
 mand or control, whether it comes from an earthly emperor 
 or a spiritual ecclesiastic. 
 
 Masons believe in light, law, love and liberty. Their devo- 
 tion is to God and native land with no prelatical or political 
 power to intervene. The K. C.'s own their primal allegiance, 
 not to this government, but to the Pope, a foreign ruler who 
 lives the other side of the Atlantic. When we remember that 
 this Papal potentate is closely related with the arch enemy 
 of democracy, as his predecessors have been, and that the 
 Roman Catholic church itself is an ecclesiastical autocracv, 
 our Administration official recognition of the Knights of 
 Columbus and denial to the Freemasons of the U. S., was a 
 superlative example of Inquisitorial injustice, prelatical prefer- 
 ence, and bigoted bunk. 
 
170 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 "While I was in Los Angeles politicians, influenced by the 
 clergy, would not permit the Salvation Army to solicit money 
 with which to carry on their splendid war work, and yet both 
 special opportunity and aid were given to the K. C. 's. 
 
 Many of the people of this faith boast that this war has 
 been a godsend to their church and them, socially, politically, 
 financially and every way. They have told me that all they 
 had to do to get a fat job in Washington or war was to state 
 their religious belief. It wasn't so much whether they had 
 the ability to make seed as to say they came from Ireland 
 and were members of the Roman Catholic church. Any cor- 
 poration or church that seeks to make financial or religious 
 capital and gain out of this war, makes a mistake that will 
 be resented and punished when our boys come home from 
 *'over there." America is not ready yet to substitute K. C. 
 for U. S. This is a bad time for any church to advertise its 
 religious wares. The Y. M. C. A. was in the field and doing 
 all that was necessary for the Allied forces. The K. C. with 
 jealous religious rivalry tried to duplicate their work and 
 took public money that could have been more wisely and 
 better expended. 
 
 According to press account, we are led to imagine that 
 all the brave soldier and sailor boys are K. C. 's, that there 
 are few virtuous or valiant chaplains who are not priests, 
 that no agency is helping the needy abroad half so much 
 as the Knights of Columbus; that the Allies are fighting to 
 avenge the destruction of some Roman Catholic cathedrals; 
 that crosses and shrines should be mileposts over there and 
 over here; that the Angelus prayer to the Virgin should 
 be rung here daily in the U. S. A. ; that at the close of the 
 war all denominational lines will be erased, but one, a R. C. 
 one, which for 400 years the world has been trying to blot 
 out with sacrificial blood. All this is on a par with the recent 
 French papal proposal to place on the Tri-Color of La Belle 
 France the symbol of the "Sacred Heart of Jesus.'* 
 
 Honor to whom honor is due, and we are glad to commend 
 our Roman Catholic friends for the good they have done and 
 may do, but let us give the Jews and the Protestants and 
 every other religious cult credit for their patriotism and sac- 
 
ON THE WARPATH 171 
 
 rifice as well. Who on earth cares what religion it is so 
 long as its members send the Kaiser to hell with his war 
 plans 1 
 
 It is America for Americans and Americans for America. 
 Cut out the hyphen — there is no place for a *' German- Ameri- 
 can, an ** Irish-American," or a ** Swedish -American." We are 
 tired of seeing the words ''Catholic Liberty Loan," ** Catholic 
 soldiers." It looks as bad as to say "Masonic soldiers," ** Bap- 
 tist Liberty Loan." 
 
 IS ROME PRO-GERMAN? 
 
 THE prophet and priest in Jeremiah's day said, * 'Peace, 
 peace; when there is no peace," and Jeremiah hotly 
 
 denounced them. Have these ancients, who "healed 
 the daughter of my people slightly," no modern 
 descendants? What of the "Pope's peace" that weakened the 
 arm and strength of the Italian army and made possible the 
 Caporetto failure, overthrow and stampede? Heathen Homer 
 thought a River flowed around the world — so some modern 
 pagans believe the Tiber flows around the globe, that even 
 the Allies should have no peace thoughts that do not sail the 
 Holy "See." 
 
 The war has many sides. It has been cussed and discussed 
 from the military, the enconomical, the moral and the political 
 point of view to an exclusion of the religious side which, from 
 its very beginning, has been the most important side. Many 
 people are honestly asking the question today, "Is the Papacy 
 for the enemy and against the Allies?" Here are some facts 
 — give your own answer. One of Bernstorff 's aides was a priest 
 here, but is now a bishop in Ireland — Ireland that at times 
 seems to be almost as active an ally of Germany as Austria. 
 The hierarchy in Ireland engaged in active revolt against 
 conscription enforced by the British government. From the 
 church altar the priests commanded their followers to sign the 
 Maynooth pledge, equivalent to the Vatican pledge, and conse- 
 crated it by the elevation of the sacred Host. In Quebec, the 
 
172 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 Archbishop threatened a revolution if the Canadian Parlia- 
 ment passed the Conscription bill, and he did his best to carry 
 out his threat. Only a few French Canadians voluntarily 
 enlisted and many deserted before being transported to the 
 other side. The Roman Catholic clergy in Australia, led by 
 Archbishop Mannix, solemnly defied conscription so that the 
 victory of the anti-conscriptionists was laid at the door of the 
 priests against whom hateful feeling was aroused. In Italy, 
 the priesthood worked through the families of the soldiers and 
 thus contributed their influence towards the great German 
 victory last fall. In Spain, the Roman Catholics and Monarch- 
 ists are largely Germanophiles. It is well known that in Cuba 
 the Diario de la Marina has maintained the German cause 
 from the very beginning of the war. 
 
 People looking at this war, which combines all the infamies 
 of all previous wars, seriously ask, *'Is God dead, if not, why 
 does He permit this awful hell on earth ?'^ He is his own 
 interpreter and in his day and way will make it plain. In the 
 meantime, reverent hopeful humanity will believe that this 
 great sacrifice has not been in vain if military Prussianism 
 and political Romanism are forever wiped off the map of the 
 world. 
 
 LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY 
 
 IeBRUARY Twelfth I celebrated Lincoln's birthday 
 by throwing down the morning paper, filled with 
 the petty bickerings and sectional squabbles of our 
 little men at Washington, and picked up Lincoln's 
 God-inspired Gettysburg speech. 
 
 I journeyed in memory to Newark, N. J., to April 14, 1865, 
 when Lincoln was assassinated. Father knelt in prayer and 
 mother draped the parlor doors and windows with the black 
 material she had purchased for a dress. 
 
 The day after the funeral at Washington, the car with its 
 precious burden came through our city. It was draped with 
 flags and covered with flowers. I was too small to see over 
 the heads of the crowd and so climbed on a flat coal car. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 173 
 
 Years later, I visited Ford's theatre, where Lincoln was 
 shot, and entered the house across the street, where he breathed 
 his last. 
 
 Living in Illinois, I went to Springfield, where he lived 
 when elected president, and drove out to Oak Ridge cemetery, 
 where he lies buried, waiting the reveille of the resurrection. 
 
 Residing in Kentucky, I made a trip to Hardin county, 
 where he was born in 1809. With some friends who revered 
 his martyred memory, I crossed the Ohio river into Spencer 
 county, Indiana, where he moved with his parents in 1816. 
 
 Once I made a pilgrimage to Gettysburg, where it was 
 decided, ''The government could not be half slave, half free.'' 
 Nature's harvest had hid the horrors of war and instead of 
 shot was song of birds ; and smoke had given way to fragrance 
 of flowers. 
 
 A little later, sitting down to rest by the National Capitol, 
 with its dome and statue of liberty, I recalled his first inaugu- 
 ral address: ''The mystic hand of memory touched by the 
 angels of our better nature swell the chorus of the Union. ' ' 
 
 February twelfth — North, South, East and West, we lov- 
 ingly recall him who gave us the Union. 
 
 "The kindly, earnest, brave, foreseeing man. 
 Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame. 
 New birth of our new soil, the first American." 
 
 Every February 12th makes it more manifest that Lin 
 coin, not Caesar, was "the foremost man of all the world. 
 Washington represented the old aristocracy of gentlemen ; 
 Lincoln the new democracy of the people. Lincoln's humility, 
 poverty, love and energy were the preparation for his public 
 career. Given the arc, we can draw the circle. He knew the 
 Bible from Genesis to Revelation, and believed in prayer. 
 Like Franklin, he disliked creed and never joined the church ; 
 but his religion showed a conduct which God and men ap- 
 proved. He loved justice, sympathized with the suffering, 
 and united a radicalism and conservatism which held him fast 
 to the duty of the hour. 
 
 yy 
 
174 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 Lincoln's consecration to the cause of the right, as he 
 understood it, was the secret of his character and career. 
 
 God raised Lincoln up as He did Joshua; inspired him as 
 
 He did Beethoven ; and immortalized him with those righteous 
 
 whom He holds in *' everlasting remembrance.'* 
 
 Lincoln stands a lasting model to humble youth, tried 
 manhood, quibbling lawyers who establish points of law and 
 defeat justice, and perfidious politicians who trim their sails 
 to the breath of popular applause and private gain. 
 
 In the Pantheon of this world's heroes, Lincoln, the good 
 and great, and great because good, holds one of the highest 
 places ever known to man. 
 
 A LOWE MOUNTAIN 
 
 LOVE to climb mountains — in a street car, and enjoy 
 their beauty and sublimity — through a telescope. 
 
 Mount Lowe is a low mountain, like all others in 
 California. It was named after Professor Lowe, who, 
 weary of the earthly angels of Los Angeles, came up here to 
 communicate with Venus and the other heavenly constella- 
 tions. Leaving the P. E. ''perfectly elegant" station, we 
 trolleyed through the jobbing district of the celestial city, 
 brushed by the skirts of Lincoln Park, of Wild Animal Farm 
 and arrived at Pasadena, that paradise of American pluto- 
 crats. The scenery may suggest paradise, but the derivation 
 of the word ''plutocratic" suggests Pluto, god of hell, and 
 some of the infernal ways certain of these millionaires made 
 their wealth. I was a near millionaire myself as I rode "near" 
 palaces of these great Americans whose minds had been de- 
 voted to the world's ideals of beer, chewing gum and safety 
 razors. Towards the East stretched San Gabriel Valley, Na- 
 ture's fruit-basket of oranges, and Mecca of tourists, orange 
 and lemon packers. We passed Altadena, at times carpeted 
 with poppies, but Dame Nature had been doing her spring 
 housecleaning and hadn't put the flower carpet down again. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 175 
 
 Our rail track led over the shoulders of mountains, like a 
 pair of suspenders, and held us in suspense. We were inclined 
 to go still higher and took the incline car. The grade was 62 
 per cent and we ascended 1,300 feet to Echo Mt., that echoed 
 to our ejaculations of ''Ohs" and *'Ahs." Many decline this 
 incline, fearing accidents, dents and broken bones. I had 
 cogged the Alps, Victoria Peak at Hong Kong, Corcovado at 
 Rio, Pike's Peak, Colorado, and was pleased to add this cog 
 to my list. At Echo Mt. there is an Observatory. The only 
 observation I made was of thanks that we had safely climbed 
 so high. If anything should break loose at night, there is a 
 large searchlight to enable the motorneer to see what tree, 
 valley or hill his car will hit, and to aid the wrecking party's 
 careful search for the remains of any passengers. 
 
 Like Pilgrim, we climbed this Delectable Mountain, pass- 
 ing the Cape of Good Hope, Horseshoe-Curve, Circular Bridge, 
 Summit Point, Granite Gate and arrived at the Alpine Tavern. 
 Here you find pool, billiards, player-pianos, talking machines, 
 books, papers, groceries, kodak-shops, telephones, grapho- 
 phones, in short, all the disturbing things you came to forget. 
 It is called the Alpine Tavern and that's all the Alps there is 
 about it. It has a pine in front of it with this sign tacked on 
 it, ** 5,000 feet high." Undoubtedly this is the most tremen- 
 dous tree, the highest of the high ever grown. I suppose birds 
 of paradise roost in its boughs. It is over the top of Jack's 
 bean stalk. As I remember, it suggests Hood's lines: 
 
 * ' The fir trees dark and high ; 
 I used to think their slender tops 
 Were close against the sky." 
 
 "We stood under it, but couldn't see the top. Possibly this 5,000 
 feet was the altitude of the spot where we were standing. 
 
 Squirrels are numerous along these tavern paths, no doubt 
 on account of the visiting ''nuts." The Tavern boasts many 
 modem advantages not shared by other mountain resorts, yet 
 lacks the essential advantage a mountain-view house should 
 possess — an outlook or view of the surrounding country. All 
 one can see from the front porch is a thicket of trees, a croquet 
 ground and street car tracks. 
 
176 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 It is literally true when the tavern advertises many ''unap- 
 proachable'' views, for my eyes were unable to approach any 
 kind of a view, and that is surely a reproach. 
 
 To see something, we hit the trail. Proposal Arbor was 
 the first stop, with its tree blossoming with calling cards. The 
 proposal I made was that we go on farther, which met with 
 the party's hearty approval. Along this well-oiled mountain 
 path our eyes were ravished by the sight of rubbish holders 
 and beautiful green benches. Here the care-free tourist is al- 
 lowed to cast his eye upon the scenery and roll it from earth to 
 heaven, but he must not cast any cigaret butts about, for fear 
 of forest fires, or any stray orange or banana peels to litter 
 up the landscape. This is an excellent convention resort for 
 precise schoolma'ams, grandmas and New England house- 
 keepers. 
 
 By the time I reached Inspiration Point I decided to call it 
 Respiration and Perspiration Point. Here we had an unob- 
 structed and magnificent panorama of haze that blotted out 
 all views of valley and sea. There were many pine cone^ about, 
 but an ice-cream cone would have been more acceptable. Walk- 
 ing west to Easter Rock, we paused at a rock base surmounted 
 by a cross, where Easter services are annually held. 
 
 Here, as along the entire path from the Tavern, there was 
 a strange iron growth, a crop planted by man and resembling 
 telescopes. They were ''finders." We were asked to pause, 
 close an eye, squint through an iron tube and gaze at some 
 rock pile or bunch of bushes bearing some fantastical name. 
 Perhaps I overestimate, yet I counted 33,431 of these telescopes 
 in a ten-minute walk from the Tavern. 
 
 One thing that made my indignation rise higher than any 
 mountain round about was a metal U. S. flag hoisted on a pole, 
 and used as a target for bullet practice. The finders revealed 
 two mountains, one named Disappointment and the other Mt. 
 Wilson. They were not widely separated, and if a Republican 
 had been looking through a political telescope he might have 
 thought they were one and the same. But this Mt. Wilson 
 was named after a California professor, and not a New Jersey 
 politician, I was told. 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 177 
 
 If you are inclined to hunt, you can find deer and wild 
 barley. If you wish to remain here more than a day, you may 
 arrange with the guides to trail over a network of paths 
 through miniature mountains, all of which will require about 
 the same time as to do the Amazonian wilderness or parts of 
 Darkest Africa. 
 
 While the sun was tobogganing down the western sky into 
 the Pacific, we slid down the Sierras, feeling that 2,000 square 
 miles of scenery in sight was well worth the $2 fare. 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON 
 
 ANY country of any size I have ever visited had a 
 statue of our George Washington, and on February 
 22nd said or did something to his memory. But at a 
 beach where I happened to be on this day the munic- 
 ipal flagpole failed to blossom out with red, white and blue, 
 and there was no patriotic outburst from brass band or orator 
 lips. Yet the heavens into which his great soul had entered 
 did not forget him, and while it rained tears that we had, it 
 floated a sunset of red sun, white cloud and blue sky; wove a 
 streaming rainbow ribbon, and unfurled a firmament of stars 
 at night. The mountains stood as a monument of independence, 
 the waves of the Pacific gave a grand oration on freedom, and 
 it wasn't a dry one. For a fitting George Washington birthday 
 dinner Lawrence and I Forded the wet streets by car to the 
 French named town of ''Anaheim" whose bars were wet as the 
 streets. He ordered a big dinner for two that was enough for 
 four. The waiter informed us that Anaheim was not ''prohibi- 
 tion" and we could have the best drink of beer that California 
 furnished. Asked whether he had other drinks, he made a 
 German gesture and said, "All kinds." I thanked him and or- 
 dered a large stein of sweet milk and drank to the health of 
 the man foremost in the hearts of all liberty-lovers. 
 
 It seems as if God were weary of monarchies and sought 
 to establish a republic — so he sent us Washington to lead our 
 fathers out of the Egj^pt of British prerogative to the Canaan 
 of American liberty. 
 
178 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 On February 22nd it is our duty and delight to recall the 
 name and revere the memory of one of the greatest men in 
 ancient or modern history. George Washington is immortal 
 in history because he made a country of the colonies, secured 
 the power of peace, and bound country and freedom with a 
 constitutional government fashioned to make liberty and union 
 one and inseparable. 
 
 He was ''greatest of good men and the best of great men.'* 
 His private life gleams like a star ; his public career shines like 
 a sun. He had the heart of a boy, the will of a man, the spirit 
 of a hero, the wisdom of a philosopher, and the inspiration 
 of a prophet. As Mt. Washington, kissed by the sun and clad 
 by the snow, rises above the plains, so the private and public 
 character of George Washington towers aloft in our American 
 history. He was, is, and will be to every true American : 
 
 ''First in war; first in peace; and first in the hearts of his 
 countrymen. ' ' 
 
 WASHED ASHORE 
 
 AT Newport Beach we were the guests of L. S. Wilkin- 
 son, agent for the Southern Pacific Railroad. The 
 beach is now dry, but a few years ago it was wet, and 
 many bottles could be found there. Prohibitionists 
 thought money was thrown away on those bottles, but hark to 
 this story of money found in a bottle, though not as thrilling 
 as Poe's tale of a "MS. Found in a Bottle": 
 
 One day I went to the shore and photographed three boys 
 and a bottle. It was corked, had been washed up by the waves, 
 and there was a piece of paper in it. Breaking it, the boys 
 found a letter and a check for $12.50. The letter stated that 
 if they would return the check to its owner at Los Angeles, 
 who had thrown it overboard on a bet at Catalina, they would 
 receive a reward of $5. The Apostle Peter was no more pleased 
 at the piece of silver tax money he found in the fish's mouth 
 than these kids were at what this bottle contained. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 179 
 
 Newport Beach is one of the unspoiled beaches of the Cali- 
 fornia coast. For restful recreation and the limitless enjoy- 
 ment of sea and sky, beach and bay, mesa and mountain, fish- 
 ing and friendly citizens, it is a peninsular Paradise, where 
 everybody should be happy, and where the only ** croaker 
 is a Spot-Fin fish. 
 
 ART, WHERE ART THOU? 
 
 >» 
 
 CALIFORNIA has been called a painter's paradise. We 
 found it a sort of loafing limbo for artists of the Kip- 
 ling class lying down and resting ''for an eon or two." 
 At Laguna I saw an artist's name on a door-plate, 
 but that was all. There were subjects of sky, sea, rocks, caves 
 and trees, but they stood untransferred to paper or canvas. 
 It was as hard to find artists as fruits or flowers — perhaps it 
 was not the season. 
 
 Unable to find any art galleries in Los Angeles, I called up 
 the press and information bureau, and was directed to the 
 museum at Exposition Park. The paintings were few and far 
 between, and between them many odd curios. Again I in- 
 quired, and after an hour's search found a place where paints 
 and brushes were for sale. The paint most advertised was 
 cosmetics. The dearest paintings we noticed were those walk- 
 ing on the streets. Finally we met an art collector, who had a 
 few local cubist and splashy daubs. It was pitiful — nearly a 
 whole city full of buildings, but of art galleries there were 
 none. 
 
 Yet the Angelenos are expert painters of scenery and thea- 
 tre signs, of auto bodies, and of their own faces with liquor 
 and cosmetics. But why is art necessary at all? They have 
 climate, and that divides the honor with charity in covering a 
 multitude of sins. Nature has placed all California artists in 
 the shade by placing on her easel the matchless pieces of sea, 
 field and mountain. 
 
 Practical art is found in the * drawings" of gold ore from' 
 the soil and money from the pockets of the speculators. The 
 water color is irrigation that turns the brown earth green. 
 
180 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 The oil color is petroleum, from which modern mining masters 
 are making millions, compared with the price of the oils the 
 old masters bring. 
 
 Murder is one of the city's fine arts, promoted by autos, 
 which assume the pedestrian has no rights and deliberately 
 knock him right and left and leave him bruised and bleeding. 
 The trouble is not so much wine as auto-intoxication. There 
 is an auto to every thirteen inhabitants, which may account 
 for so many unlucky accidents. The auto roads in the state are 
 the finest in the world. They can't be called "rotten," even 
 though they are made from decomposed granite. 
 
 MUSIC AND BOOKS 
 
 
 OS ANGELES filled its warm nights with music and 
 drowned its care in the flowing bowl. There are splen- 
 did organ recitals in the churches and picture palaces, 
 bands at the parks and beaches, jazz and cabaret 
 stuff in the cafes, symphonies by the Minneapolis Symphony 
 Orchestra — but for all hours of the days, nights and weeks, 
 that which pleases the greatest number is the liquid music of 
 Meier beer. 
 
 My friend, Joe Sheehan, appeared in Verdi's Trovatore. 
 After this brilliant performance, "L" and I walked over to 
 Harlowe's Cafe, where bare-legged chorus girls and ''hooche- 
 cooche" Egyptian dancers were swaying to the cannikin clink 
 of the drink devotees at the tables. This motion before the 
 house was long and loudly applauded. This Meier beer of the 
 bar was 0. K. always and everywhere, but when someone tried 
 to play Von Weber's '* Invitation a la Valse" at Pasadena it 
 was hissed as having a German air and flavor about it. I have 
 visited Germany many times; sailed its rivers; climbed its 
 mountains; threaded its forests; pilgrimaged to its historic 
 cities ; studied its philosophy and church history ; have become 
 familiar with its language ; read Goethe, Schiller, Lessing and 
 Heine ; played the music of Bach and Beethoven ; looked at its 
 art treasures — but, when I think of the blind, militaristic, 
 would-be Samson who is trying to pull down this temple in a 
 
ON THE WARPATH 181 
 
 general ruin of the world's freedom and civilization, I repeat 
 what I said in my pulpit three days after war began in Europe : 
 **May God damn to an eternal hell the man responsible for 
 this Christless, causeless war." 
 
 Our Oberhoffer's Orchestra was thrice welcome at beach 
 or concert hall to play whatever it pleased. At Long Beach 
 we heard their harmony drown out the rythmic, melodic rhap- 
 sody of the sea. It comes here annually to serenade the Cal- 
 ifornia ear. This jolly bunch of boys from the best ** flower" 
 of our home garden gives Minneapolis her best ad. The organ- 
 ization is not simply loved at home, but is revered abroad. 
 
 I found the Public Library, though many people were igno- 
 rant that such an institution existed. It was hidden away in 
 the top of a business corner building. There were books many 
 and good, and it has branch stations over the town, yet this 
 does not excuse a city of more than half a million people from 
 locating a library in a garret over a store. Wake up, Los An- 
 geles! You can, and should, remedy this careless oversight. 
 Have a library building equal in size, location and looks to 
 your million-dollar movie houses, fine theatres and hotels. A 
 city is known by its libraries and art galleries — gasoline and 
 films are poor substitutes. You are out to please the Eastern 
 tourist, who has these things at home, wants them, and will not 
 come often or stay long anywhere without them. Right there 
 you fail and fall down in a matter mental as well as monied. 
 
 ELYSIUM 
 
 x\LIFORNIA is a great park, a fine place to park autos. 
 We found Central Park, Los Angeles, Sunday morn- 
 ing, full of bums, devoted to the Devil's Bible, the 
 Sunday newspaper. 
 My friend, Jay Kennicott, drove us through parks and by 
 golfing links, not green, but brown as sausages. This is a para- 
 dise, for the country has built booths, cut wood, made fire- 
 places and erected log tables for picknickers to play Old Nick 
 in an all-year-round holiday. 
 
182 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 Elysium Park was like the classic one in one respect. When 
 Aeneas went through the Elysian fields all the objects were 
 clothed in a purple light — here it was the haze from innumera- 
 ble autos, whose exhausts wrapped everything in smoky pall 
 and smell. The park is a good place to spend hours with the 
 Houris, and to keep it from being a Paradise Lost one is pro- 
 hibited from spending the night there. Elysium has a classic 
 name and many come to make it the stage for acting the ques- 
 tionable myths of the nymphs and satyrs. Holiday guests are 
 star-scattered on the grass acting out the Rubaiyat, that 
 Prosit poem. 
 
 We saw the Los Angeles aqueduct. It is not built on Ro- 
 man lines, and, though no Caesars have walked around it, it 
 is the largest in the world, bringing water 250 miles from snow- 
 covered Mt. Whitney. It has a daily capacity of 258,000,000 
 gallons and cost $25,000,000. Irrigation spells California. 
 
 ET CETERA 
 
 CALIFORNIA is an ideal nursery for flowers and chil- 
 dren. 
 
 The age most respected here is acreage. 
 There are preserves of game and fish, as well as of 
 fruit. 
 
 The California native lives on canned goods, tourists and 
 gasoline. 
 
 Love plays the game in tennis courts and law courts, and 
 both are full. 
 
 The water bill is longer than the liquor bill. 
 The If in Calif, is a big one. The state is great — if you have 
 invalid lungs or a healthy pocketbook; if you like movies, 
 autos, climate, ocean, mountains, fruits, flowers, sports, gold 
 and tennis. 
 
 Everyone finds the names *' missions,'* ** saint" and **ange- 
 lus," yet when you look at the people you wonder what's in 
 a name. I even saw an Angelus Fish Hatchery. 
 
 California is a wealthy state. Don't be disappointed if you 
 
 can't find gold. There are turquoise skies, sapphire seas, ame- 
 
ON THE WARPATH 183 
 
 thyst vistas, silver cataracts, golden sunrises, ruby sunsets, dia- 
 mond spray, and pearly shells. 
 
 California is a fine place to live and die in. 
 
 It is a vast pleasure-ground with scenic railways and autos 
 running around. 
 
 California is the modern El Dorado where sun, sand, hills, 
 poppies, fruit and metals win golden opinions from all travel- 
 ers. The yellow streak is in everything, including a few of its 
 people. 
 
 A CHINESE NEW YEAH 
 
 LOS ANGELES has a Chinese Quarter, and it's worth 
 half their Chink life to have a whole week's celebra- 
 tion. I had seen the heathen white man in the city 
 and on the beach, so I went here for a change. A walk 
 across a plaza took us into another country. It was their New 
 Year, and there were crackers under your feet and rockets over 
 your head, recalling the good old Fourth of July time before 
 the insane sane Fourth was heard of. I had seen crackers made 
 in Macao and shot off in Canton, but this was different. We 
 shoot the crackers for patriotism, the Chinese for piety, to scare 
 away the devil. Los Angeles was wide-open, with gambling, 
 booze, graft, auto accidents, and murder trials of white slavers 
 and sinners, so naturally the city fathers felt it was a great 
 crime for John to shoot off firecrackers in his own quarter. 
 The Public Safety Commission, that private dangerous clique, 
 tried to bar it with their usual meddling, narrow-minded inter- 
 ference, under the guise of patriotism and pro bono publico. 
 The attempt was unsuccessful. If John believes firecrackers 
 can drive the devil away, it is not so dangerous as the belief 
 of many of the half-baked religious societies on the coast, which 
 have full freedom to shout and shoot their fiery doctrines at the 
 public. If the Council wanted to hear a real danger, they 
 should have been with us one Sunday morning when the *' Rev- 
 erend Father," just before his sermon, read an official state- 
 ment on Roman Catholic education, in which he vilely, falsely 
 and traitorously attacked the Public School System of the 
 
184 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 United States as a godless, sinful institution. He declared it 
 was unfair for the government to compel them to pay taxes 
 for the public schools while they were maintaining their own 
 parochial ones. This was rank treason to American ideals, yet 
 only one of the frequent attacks on an institution admitted, 
 by all pious, and patriotic people, to be the basis and bul- 
 wark of all our American institutions. This hostile attitude 
 more than offset this church's boast of K. C. army and navy 
 loyalty in our present Allied war — which war is to give the 
 world a democracy which can never be safe so long as it has 
 affiliation with German Imperialism or Italian Vaticanism. 
 
 If firecrackers can scare the devil away, a continuous 
 Fourth of July would hardly make Los Angeles a safe and 
 good place to live in. John was in his element of best clothes, 
 and was eating and drinking. Every store had a Joss idol 
 and incense altar to keep the fruit, rice, nuts, sweetmeats and 
 delicacies tempting to God, at any rate to us who sampled 
 them. There was a guard at the entrance of every door, for 
 China Town was one great gambling den. Though our en- 
 trance was forbidden, we saw the f antan game. 
 
 We were invited to one club. It was bright with lights, the 
 altar was profusely decorated, the men were gambling and the 
 Chink orchestra jazz was superb. Undaunted, they twanged 
 and scraped and squeaked and screeched and massacred all 
 melody and harmony. But my long years of study of music 
 brought me to the position where I could appreciate it. The 
 Goddess of Discord presided. The scales were rheumatic and 
 chromatic, yet scaled to hitherto unattainable heights. My 
 soul was borne on this turbid sea of cacophony to the ceiling 
 with a fearful rush, then grew dizzy and with a sickening 
 crash fell to the floor. By their spoon and spade-shaped instru- 
 ments, the musicians built a chromatic Babel Tower. I am 
 positive Hogarth's *'Mad Musician" never heard its equal. To 
 this was added a singing running accompaniment \vhich was 
 atrocious. They broke so many musical laws they should have 
 been sent to Sing-Sing. What can one expect from such awful- 
 looking instruments, freak fiddles, gongs and cymbals that 
 exploded indescribable noises and stirred up a war of sound! 
 
ON THE WARPATH 185 
 
 The Chinese Masonic Temple held open house, and without 
 giving any knock or sign, a smiling celestial gave me entrance 
 when he saw my charm — ing exterior. He gave us eats, drinks 
 and smokes and pointed out the symbolic work back of the 
 Joss altar. He was ''crafty" and discoursed on hidden things 
 in a "well-qualified" way to please non-members of the craft. 
 China's history runs way back, and while I may not tell Ma- 
 sonic secrets, it is no secret that the ideas of life, law, love 
 and light are points in the creed and conduct of brother John 
 who can be trusted, though he is not allowed to be a member 
 of Brother Jonathan's family. 
 
 We could learn how to properly celebrate the Fourth from 
 John, and when it comes to the riotous debauch of our New 
 Year's Eve and Night, the so-called heathen is a Christian saint 
 in comparison. John smiled, the house of the thousand lanterns 
 and Roman candles blazed out, air-raid rockets flashed like 
 meteors, packs of bomb-crackers shattered the air to bits, and 
 mine explosions on the walks sent our yellow friends scurrying 
 like rats through the doorways. We celebrated with a light 
 lunch of noodles in a small corner house, served by a cute 
 Chinese girl who waited on us as politely as though we were at 
 the Alexandria Hotel. Smiting our stomachs as a sign that wo 
 were satisfied, we went out and met an officer who found noth- 
 ing to do in this China Town until he came across two white 
 girls whom he told to continue their *' street walk" to the 
 police station. Just the opposite of the melodrama where the 
 yellow Chink is leading the white slave into an opium den. 
 
 CALIFORNIA'S YELLOW STREAK 
 
 lOREIGN missions have done a great and gracious 
 work abroad, yet it is a serious question whether 
 sometimes there and here, the yellow man would not 
 have had a whiter life and soul hereafter if the white 
 man had let him alone, and not given him Bible virtues with 
 one hand and a Pandora box of vices with the other. 
 
 China's history includes science, art and philosophy; the 
 greatest and earliest inventions of chart, compass, printing and 
 powder are hers. Her religion is ancestral and her literature 
 
186 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 reaches far back to Confucius. The Chinese among us are not 
 as foreign to our ideals of religion, politics and patriotism as 
 thousands of foreigners from Southern Europe. John is in an 
 exclusive set because excluded. His heathen attitude toward 
 us has often been more Christian than ours toward him. 
 
 California boasts of her ** yellow" golden fruits, but what 
 would she have today if the yellow man had not made it pos- 
 sible? John and his co-Oriental Jap brother have worked 
 domestically, cooked, dug, made gardens, ditches and rail- 
 roads. He has worked hard and lived simply, cultivated his 
 pigtail and garden patch, worshipped his little gods, burned 
 and scattered papers to the dragon devil — in fact he was very- 
 much like his white master who has his form of idol worship 
 in gold, whiskey, a skirt or a pack of cards. 
 
 Then the lazy laborer Satan entered this California Eden, 
 was envious, got into dirty politics, taxed John 'stools and trade, 
 legislated against sending his poor bones to final rest in China, 
 and bad went to worse, until 1882 when the Exclusion Act was 
 passed, reaching its criminal climax in the law of 1902 which ia 
 still enforced. California is reaping a harvest of retribution 
 from these seeds of hate. Today the harvest is great and the 
 laborers few. I talked with many who were in despair on 
 .account of labor shortage. The industrial conditions are so 
 changed by the war that John is as much in demand as gang- 
 plank or steam-engine. The cry rises now in speech and edi- 
 torials that California might as well stop planting unless there 
 are thousands more of laborers to cultivate and reap the har- 
 vest. This scarcity applies to some manufacturing industries 
 as well. Most Californians work for self, the Indians prefer 
 the easy life of the Reservation, the Mexicans are unreliable 
 and Europeans of low ideals and ability come over high-handed 
 with big ideas of political and religious graft and are neither 
 desirable nor dependable on the farms. Californians gave 
 willing John the foot, and extended her hand in politics to 
 ignorant Europeans, so delivering the state over to the devil of 
 social vice and political corruption in her cities. The China- 
 man is needed more than any one else in the kitchen, garden, 
 shoe shop and laundry. When California gives him a square 
 deal and kicks out some of her modern sand-lot orators, anar- 
 
ON THE WARPATH 187 
 
 chistic writers and I. W. W. 's, who talk of heathenism, amalga- 
 mation, polities, popularity and what will please other foreign- 
 ers, she will be able to meet her great possibilities. 
 
 The Chinese Y. M. C. A. mission is well placed. I went in 
 and spoke to the leader. I respectfully submit that white 
 Christians teach the Chinese, and that the Chinese go down 
 on Main and Broadway and open a mission to teach the whites 
 the Gospel of fatherhood and brotherhood, that Abel's God 
 still lives to punish the Cain who persecutes and kills. 
 
 GEEASER TOWN 
 
 THE Mexican Quarter appeared to be made up prin- 
 cipally of Italians. The journey from China to 
 Mexico here is very brief and may be made in a 
 minute. What separates them is not the wide Pacific, 
 but a Plaza. Every Latin-American town has a plaza and a 
 church, so here we have "Our Lady Queen of the Angels." 
 The church was empty and dark, but the altar light cast its 
 gleam towards the low ceiling and on the old, thick, narrow 
 walls whose foundations were laid when Mexico was estab^ 
 lishing her Independence. The adjectives empty, dark, low, 
 narrow and thick sadly suggest some of the heads of this 
 church. 
 
 We passed through these Mexican streets by greasy Greaser 
 restaurants, one of which bore the cheerful name *'La Esper- 
 anza" (Hope) on the window, although a sign over the door- 
 way should have read, ''Leave hope behind." In a book store 
 window was seen the Mexican mark of anti-American, social- 
 istic, anti-capital literature ; song books, lives of Carranza and 
 Villa, the History of the Inquisition and a selection of Spanish 
 smutty novels and poems. In the curio and toy shops there 
 were cup and jug pottery, clay toys of men, women and chil- 
 dren, showing Mexican life in mountain, city and country. 
 We admired most, in form of living clay, some girls on the 
 sidewalk with their black eyes and hair, and black robosos 
 wrapped round their bodies, the ends gracefully thrown over 
 their shoulders. The barber shops were many and popular, 
 
188 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 for the high priestesses were Jap ladies who leaned over the 
 chair, lathered, rubbed and shaved the black-bearded Mexican. 
 
 In the grocery stores there were piles of small tomatoes, red 
 and purple peppers, cones of brown sugar and pieces of jerked 
 beef. These markets are not open on the streets as in Mexico, 
 yet much that was offered for sale seemed to have been on the 
 street. Drinking places were abundant where you could get 
 ice-cream soda and something darker and stronger. The ma- 
 jority of the places were crowded with typical Mexican toughs 
 who were gossiping, smoking eigarets and loafing just as they 
 do outdoors when it is not raining. There were stores with all 
 sorts and shapes of sweets called, ''Dulceria Mexicana." I 
 noticed a street of small houses or hovels. In one of the door- 
 ways I saw men trying to drive out dirt, poverty, misery and 
 squalor with a mandolin, guitar and an instrument that looked 
 like a Nile sheepskin water cask, or Mexican pulque skin. 
 This last a man was blowing up and it answered in colicky, 
 complaining tones. Fallen across a table in a dingy, dirty den 
 was a poor fellow with crutches on the floor, fit subject for a 
 Cruikshank London slum sketch. 
 
 On church, fiesta and various Mexican holidays the natives 
 come out in their glad rags with tri-color badges and picture^ 
 of Hidalgo and Juarez. They dance, make speeches, smoke, 
 drink tequila and trip the Tango tapatio to their heart's 
 content. 
 
 Walking ourselves into a good appetite we entered a Span- 
 ish Restaurant. On the wall there was a painted picture of a 
 matador sticking the bull, and at a table I detected a man 
 working just as hard to get his knife through a tough piece of 
 meat. The only dancing in this cafe was on the wall in a mural 
 decoration. We had an orchestra made up of a fat pianist, 
 lean fiddler, and blind flute and clarinet player who played a 
 new instrument every time they brought him a cup of coffee. 
 This inspired him to let out so many chirps and yells that I 
 was thoroughly convinced there was more than caffeine in 
 
 the cup. 
 
 Ornamenting the wall just over the head of a busy chef 
 were many implements of death and destruction such as knives, 
 swords and guns. Under them was posted this sign, *^No war 
 
ON THE WARPATH 189 
 
 talk allowed here.'* With such a formidable array of cutlery 
 and shootery the sign seemed unnecessary. I kept still, yet 
 inwardly wondered as I saw the diabolic dishes the chef was 
 concocting, which was the more death-dealing. Our dinner 
 was a proverbially good Spanish meal of tamales, frijoles 
 enchiladas, chili sauce, cheese, wine, onions and chicken. We 
 had everything served but the one thing in the Spanish saw, 
 * ' There is no meal without a hair. ' ' The room was filled with 
 well-behaved people and the only spicy things were the very 
 highly seasoned foods from which we escaped with only a 
 slight cauterization of our tongues and throats. 
 
 WASTE 
 
 AS Addison would say, "The food waste is simply 
 fierce." On the train I overheard two army officers 
 tell how civilians were told to save food in order 
 that it might win the war, and declared the waste in 
 camp was enormous and wicked. At a certain town on wheat- 
 less day, a poor mother gave her children for lunch all that 
 she had in the house, a few slices of wheat bread. Because it 
 was wheatless day, the ignorant, "patriotic" zealot of a 
 teacher, took it away from the children, scolded them, then 
 threw the bread away, leaving them hungry. In a prominent 
 Calif ornian city people were urged to observe "meatless" day 
 and eat cheap cuts during the week. They did this until the 
 jailer, not the prisoners, complained that he could get nothing 
 but the finest cuts and juiciest steaks for the criminals because 
 the good people of the town and the dogs had devoured all 
 the bad meat. At an L. A. cafeteria, bearing the classic name 
 that means bull-headed, I went for lunch. Being on a brown 
 bread diet, I asked for two slices of brown bread. The young 
 Miss tossed her heifer head and refused me saying, "The gov- 
 ernment only allows one slice." It was useless to argue with 
 her, yet if I had cared for it I might have piled on my tray 
 half a dozen cuts of pie, pastry, cake, apple-dumplings and 
 a short-cake, all made of wheat, without her complaint and 
 still have been regarded as perfectly loyal. This was wasteful 
 
190 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 and ridiculous excess. In Oregon there was waste of apples in 
 the canning factories and we passed through a county where 
 piles of apples were dumped on the ground to keep up the 
 market price, and children pelted our Pullman with them. Yet 
 all the while we were apple-hungry and could only buy them 
 at fancy prices when we stopped at stations. 
 
 The Twentieth Century is ripe and rotten with wicked 
 prodigality. We spend more for tobacco than bread and ten 
 times as much for drinking and dancing as teaching and 
 philanthropy. 
 
 If we study nature we find God manages all for the best; 
 that He is profuse to none but bountiful to all. If churches 
 and communities would follow the true and divine method of 
 economy in nature, the heart would be purer, the home more 
 happy and the world more honest. 
 
 The omnipotent God gives us of His strength and wealth 
 and we at once prepare to waste our three-fold energy like 
 an unharnessed Niagara. In youth we have health and hope 
 and we discount the future with reckless ruin. We waste 
 ourselves in worry and wantonness and the ammunition of our 
 strength is expended before misfortune attacks us. We fritter 
 away time and energy in foolishness for empty honor, money 
 and pleasure, as if we had a thousand years to live. Like 
 little children we blow bubbles, chase butterflies and grasp 
 at rainbows. 
 
 We are spendthrifts and spend our thrift. There is mate- 
 rial waste in forest, mine, shop and farm, army and navy, and 
 the servant throws out of the kitchen back door what we have 
 brought in at the front. Let us send food to the Allies, not to 
 the alleys. There is mental waste in school, college, art and 
 music in foolish fads and superficial attainments. There is 
 moral waste in jails, hospitals, asylums, Young Men's and Wo- 
 men's Associations, and rival denominations, whose churches 
 hate each other more than they love the sinner, have six 
 churches where they can only support one minister and congre- 
 gation. 
 
 Wliatever does not give pleasure and profit in proportion 
 to the cost, whether in food, drink, books, magazines, cigars, 
 dress or amusement, is a waste. Idleness wastes time and 
 
ON THE WARPATH 191 
 
 money on dress before the looking glass ; ignorance wastes raw 
 
 material and finished product; intemperance wastes money, 
 
 health, mind and soul; iniquity wastes conscience, purity, 
 peace and prosperity ; war wastes the world and ruins as if an 
 earthquake had overturned and buried it. If we waste in June 
 we shall want in January. 
 
 The world is a big wastebasket of old ideas and discarded 
 theories. In it we have thrown the king-business from Henry 
 VIII to the German emperor. The time is coming when the 
 infidelity of Hume and Voltaire and the unpoetic sensualismi 
 of Byron and Goethe will be thrown to the discard and 
 scrapped on the back-lot ash-heap. 
 
 Vice is always waste. Call up the vicious from their graves 
 and as they sit in their bones on their tombstones with skeleton 
 gestures and grinning chatter, they mutter, *'Our lives have 
 been wasted!" 
 
 The prodigal leaves home, gets into bad company, loses 
 his money, health, self-respect, good name and former friends. 
 Man's capital in this life is his body, his mind, soul, time and 
 opportunity. If he works and does not waste them he will 
 receive a dividend for himself, for the good of others and the 
 glory of his Creator. 
 
 The Son of Mary and of God not only gives a divine model 
 of usefulness, but the help to realize it in our character. Jesus 
 is the dynamo to give us power. In the Angelo fresco in the 
 Sistine Chapel you see the man of clay reaching up to the sky 
 and receiving a divine spark that comes from the Creator. 
 
 Get in contact with Him who in creation, providence and 
 redemption wasted nothing — whose biography is included in 
 the five words, *'He went about doing good," and who en- 
 abled Paul to say, *'I can do all things through Christ who 
 strengthens me. 
 
 yy 
 
192 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 HAUNCH OF VENISON 
 
 I DROPPED in on my friend Bert Kenaston at Santa 
 Monica in liis palace on the Palisades. Around were 
 mountains to burn, in fact, a few days later they 
 were blazing with forest fires. Bert's home was 
 happy. Of course he has autos, horses, dogs, mines, orange- 
 groves, hotels and real estate, but what makes for real suc- 
 cessful housekeeping was his charming wife, and rollicking 
 boys who were the special care of an old black Mammy. He 
 had just been out hunting and had brought back the bacon — 
 I mean venison. Although it was out of season, salt and 
 pepper gave it a fine flavor. The fact that it was forbidden 
 gave it an added relish. Goldsmith wrote a poem, *'A Haunch 
 of Venison." While I could not do this venison justice in 
 verse I was not averse to making comment on it and away 
 with it. Over this venison I pronounced my benison. Our 
 party was no stag or stagnation affair, for the ladies, the 
 dears, were present and honorable Judge King, a royal fellow, 
 was one of our number, thus stopping the mouth of the law. 
 The judge was particeps criminis and promised to get us out 
 of jail or go in with us, and he surely Avould, for he is the 
 honorable gentleman who fined himself for fast driving. 
 
 Santa Monica is the place for hunters of game, gold and 
 pleasure. Bert belongs to this club. He's a Shriner and the 
 motto over his door is, *'Es Salamu Elekum," ("I Like 'Em"). 
 He asked me to preach in his church. I don't know where 
 it is, but if he doesn't belong to it he can have one belonging 
 to himself. This reminds me. I knew old Colonel Shaw in 
 Iowa. He was a blunt unbeliever and made a sharp reply to 
 someone who saw him standing on the church steps one Sun- 
 day morning. *' Colonel, do you belong to this church?" was 
 
 the question. '*No," he replied, 'Hhe d thing belongs 
 
 to me." 
 
ON THE WARPATH 193 
 
 BEACH DEBAUCHERY 
 
 CALIFORNIA'S coast is a big bathing beach. The 
 state is not only famous for its walnuts, but for its 
 
 beach nuts one sees everyday, especially Sunday. 
 
 One Sabbath as we were autoing a Californian ex- 
 claimed, *'Do you blame these folks for not attending church, 
 sitting in a stuffy room and listening to a dry-as-dust doctor 
 of divinity? What did John Calvin know about California, 
 autos or beaches?" I observed discreet silence, for I knew 
 nothing of Calvin's theology that harmonized with the sur- 
 roundings, and to tell the truth I was having a good time 
 myself trying, as they say, to look from nature's ocean to 
 human nature's pleasure-seekers on the sand and in the surf. 
 
 Southern California has many noted beaches from Santa 
 Monica to Coronado. I followed the crowd from Santa 
 Monica to Venice and in this short board walk the sublimity 
 of the scenery, mountain and sea did not reflect itself in the 
 look, dress or conduct of the crowd. The human tide was 
 running along a breakwater of buildings of all sorts and 
 shapes. Instead of nice and beautiful shade trees and palms, 
 as at Nice and European resorts, I found the palmistry. Fakir 
 dames dressed like Odalisques, beckoned us within to tell us 
 anything we wanted to know, if we had the price, and to help 
 them make a fortune by telling our fortune. The visitor was 
 offered a chance on every sort of game ever seen on a circus 
 lot, midway or street fair. Soldiers, sailors and civilians, with 
 fair city sirens who blew them and made them whistle for 
 their money, took every chance. Bars and buffets were full 
 to overflowing and all the foam some of the visitors saw or 
 came near was on the beer, not on the beach or breaker. 
 
 Caterpillar trams crawled along the sidewalks which 
 swarmed with gum-chewers, pop-corn-munchers, ginger-ale- 
 guzzlers, peanut-masticators, hawkers of red-hot dogs, spitters 
 of tobacco, ice-cream cone venders, stylish freaks and freakish 
 styles, nice and nasty men, good and bad girls, and roller- 
 skaters. We grew dizzy at Ferris wheels, aeroplanes, roller- 
 coasters, the plunge bath of the great unwashed, pavilions of 
 dirt, drink, dancing and dissipation. Over all there hung a 
 
194 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 Cologne variety of smells. Couples were swinging in pier 
 
 dance halls to ragtime orchestras. In the Ship Cafe stomachs 
 
 and souls were making shipwreck. A bar at the end of the 
 
 pier let down bars for women to stand up and drink beer. 
 The streets were trashy and untidy. There were high dives 
 in the water and low dives on the street where the innocent 
 were doped, debauched and robbed. This Venice was a sea- 
 Sodom. Noise was raised to the nth power. Instead of the 
 sweet sea breeze, there was the strong aroma of popcorn and 
 perspiration. The only *' fresh air" was that of the folks 
 hiking up and down, a mob of glad, sad, bad board-walkers 
 who had apparently forgotten the first Psalm's advice, 
 '* Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the 
 ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners." 
 
 Leaving this wriggling, wantoning, wandering jam on the 
 walk we strolled to the sand. It was covered with half- 
 dressed women, boys and girls sprawled out like goats and 
 satyrs, hugging the shore and each other. It was the play- 
 ground of the sexes. On the board-walk we had seen the 
 worshippers of Bacchus, here it was Venus. Sunday was any- 
 thing but religious at this sea shore. The cross had given way 
 to Cupid's bow and arrow. The Bible was the book of nature 
 done in calf. Brown lads lay with their heads in the laps of 
 half-naked brunettes, forgetting that to do so and not mean 
 harm was "hypocrisy to the devil" who tempted their virtue. 
 They made no attempt to hide under beach umbrellas. One 
 might question their propriety but neither their nerve nor 
 shape. Their speech was low, but if actions speak louder than 
 words, their conduct was often vulgar if not vicious. This 
 place is advertised as the "safest beach," but without falling 
 into the deep water I fear the Devil's undertow is carrying 
 many out beyond their moral depth. "Love one another" is 
 the favorite text and the "laying on of hands" is not omitted. 
 All the flesh pots were not in Egj^pt. Cleopatra had a good 
 time on the Nile and Clara had the same here. I saw many 
 couples and decided that more marriages were made on the 
 beach than in heaven. Position in society was everything. 
 Here there was everything in position. Heads in laps, arms 
 around waists, boys in girls' laps, girls in boys', legs linked, 
 
ON THE WARPATH 195 
 
 or arms and legs tied up in lover's bow knots. All were 
 taking '*sea"estas. In this Cupid school I saw girls with 
 pearly teeth but with no pearls of wisdom; many who could 
 paint their face, but not paint a Madonna; girls who could 
 play with the boys but not the piano ; the only apparent study 
 was that of anatomy. 
 
 At Santa Monica it was Good-night for the Sunset Inn 
 with no Good-morning. Before the liquor tide went out and 
 the Inn became dry, the place was owned by the Busch estate. 
 The Inn was conducted with a cafe attachment where the 
 attachment was more for liquor than solids. No matter who 
 owned or leased it, it was alleged the devil ran it as a house 
 on the road, that is, a road house. Public moral sentiment 
 got the city commissioners busy, the door was shut with a 
 slam and kept tight. Today instead of being a curse it is a 
 blessing, for it has been taken over by the Red Cross and 
 made its headquarters. It has turned over a new leaf to the 
 Chapter. Instead of red wine, it is red cross ; instead of spin- 
 ning webs of sin, it is knitting shirts for soldiers; instead of 
 giddy girls with gay dresses, the Inn is filled with thoughtful 
 women whose husbands, boys and sweethearts are in the war. 
 
 In Venice the children gambolled on the sand and the 
 men gambled on the green. The law had made a raid recently 
 and arrested several of the concession proprietors, but while 
 arrested in their sporting career, they failed to come to a 
 full stop, and the District Attorney served notice on the city 
 officials that unless the games were stopped he would institute 
 action against them for being derelict in duty. 
 
 People on the beach were all sprawled out in their *' surge" 
 suits. The sight of these surf bathers was surfeiting. We 
 saw nymphs in the combers which put their hair in waves. 
 People here may hate the Japs — yet it is the Japanese Current 
 that makes these waters temperate and gives Californians 
 their pleasure. 
 
 The breakers on this Venice beach are divided into three 
 classes: Ocean-breakers, law-breakers and heart-breakers. 
 California is a fruit state and we looked everywhere to see 
 the *' peaches" on the beaches that had been talked of and 
 advertised in folders and pictures. All we saw were dried 
 
196 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 peaches and there were more Iowa valetudinarians and beard- 
 ed bi-peds than anybody else. Timon of Athens was a misan- 
 thrope who went to the seashore to get away from mankind. 
 Had he come to this beach, the day we were here, he would 
 have prayed for a tidal wave to wipe it off the map. 
 
 Scripture says of the beautiful lilies, **They toil not, 
 neither do they spin.'* Of these painted, half-dressed, loung- 
 ing, walking, posturing beach-combers with their dry feet, we 
 say, ' ' They toil not, neither do they swim. ' ' I came away from 
 the beach that Sunday with a composite picture of pop-eyed, 
 pot-bellied promenaders in the sand, vulgar Venuses, wobbly 
 wenches, living links, heavy-hipped hags, sinuous shrunken 
 men, tattered tights, tousled haired nymphs and vain cock 
 of the walks admiring their own shape and gazing on their 
 feet and fingernails. 
 
 I wish I could forget the bather's singularity and angular- 
 ity, the plethoric paunch, the blinking, bawling, calling, 
 sprawling, mawling, drawling, squalling figures that defaced 
 the beauty of the sky, the sea and the sand. 0, the water 
 cataracts running and dripping fram shaking sides, heavy hips 
 and swinging busts! If Ulysses and his crew sailed by this 
 Venice shore with its sweating sirens and howling hurdy- 
 gurdies they would stop their ears — but not for fear of being 
 enticed to shore. 
 
 At Long Beach I approached one fair-faced and finely 
 figured girl, lifted my hat, begged her pardon and asked if 
 my son could take her picture, not for publicity, but just to 
 show my wife. She blushed, hesitated, struck a September 
 Morn attitude and lost her chance to refuse for the kodak 
 clicked and we had her. Her coy, innocent demeanor proved 
 she was a visitor and not a native who generally feels put out 
 unless her picture is put on the first page of the Los Angeles 
 Sunday paper. 
 
 At Seal Beach the bathers sunned themselves like seals 
 and set the seal of vulgarity on much of their dress and action. 
 
 The poet sings of the *' smile" of the sea — I do not wonder 
 at laughing waves when they see some of the freak styles. 
 What are the wild waves saying? Some things I think we 
 better omit. To watch this beach of bathers is like having a 
 
ON THE WARPATH 197 
 
 front seat at the Winter Garden Follies. The visitor may study 
 the contour of beach and bathers. Here he meets the living 
 skeleton of angles and the bag of bones, as well as her heavy 
 set sister with all her curves, crests, elevations and depressions. 
 How unlike the pictures in the Sunday supplements, and how 
 like the caricatures in the Comic supplement. When first they 
 appear all nice and dry they are passable, but look at them if 
 you dare, and can, when they take a dip or flop and coming 
 out with their homely lines all emphasized. No Greek statues, 
 no things of beauty and joy forever, but shattered disen- 
 chanting dreams, or nightmares rather. 
 
 Strange discoveries are made on the beach — sea shells, 
 peanut shells, dippy dippers, sunlight, waves, tin cans, can- 
 cans, tin-horn sports, human lobsters and jelly-fish, shell 
 games, gulls and gullibles, papers, boxes, bags, beer bottles, 
 lunch boxes, mermaids, mere men, kids with pails and shovels, 
 playmates, families, spoony couples, kelp, dead fish, fishermen, 
 lines, nets, boats, cottages, hotels, resorts, board-walks, prom- 
 enades, bare legs, arms, feet, busts, driftwood and piers. I 
 must not forget the semi-nude patriotic girls knitting socks for 
 the soldiers. It was a fad, but charity begins at home and they 
 should have worn them themselves. One could find lost souls 
 enough on the beaches without exploring the shores of Phlege- 
 thon, Cocytus and Avernus. 
 
 Farewell to this flotsam and jetsam, foam and scum, these 
 sand-flies. If you want to have a * ' good time ' ', go to the beach 
 where the volume of nature and human nature is '*wide open." 
 The text books you should bring and study on the sea shore 
 are — Shelley, Sand, Burns, Crabbe, and Bacon. 
 
 SUMMER FOOLS 
 
 THE bug in palmistry is humbug. This tree flourishes 
 like the green bay tree. The West coast is a magnet 
 to draw all the fraud fortune tellers, mediums, char- 
 latan clairvoyants, fake philosophers and astrologers. 
 They come from other states whence they have been driven. 
 They profess to tell everything from an angleworm to an 
 angel — your ** planetary" hours and all the past, present and 
 
198 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 future. These astrologers modestly say that astrology is the 
 foundation of every science, the index of all things found on 
 the material planet and that it is God's law. 
 
 According to Swift's derisive derivation and definition, 
 the astrologer is a new-fangled way of spelling **A straw 
 lodger", since the ancient fortune tellers were so beggarly 
 that they lay upon the straw. These mediums are mediums 
 for making money — these psychics should be kicked out. The 
 ''stars" these astrologers should see are on the lapel of a 
 policeman's coat or from the crack of his club. Their ''planet" 
 talk is to plan nets for the unwary. Don't forget, foolish man, 
 "The fault is not in our stars, but in ourselves." 
 
 "All Fools' Day" is not April first but every day in the 
 year. The whole human family has a drop of folly in its mix- 
 ture. This world is a big mad-house and there are many fools 
 in spring, summer, autumn and winter. 
 
 Summer is the time when heaven listens to the earth, the 
 clod climbs to soul in grass and flowers, the bird sits like a 
 blossom among the leaves, the river ripples, lakes mirror 
 clouds o'erhead while falls, fields and forests shout and sing 
 their hymn of joy. 
 
 Long ago Job spoke to the earth and it taught him les- 
 sons of power and peace. Christ left the crowded city for the 
 solitude where the birds sang, waves rippled and the grain 
 rustled. In summer we feel with Cowper, ' ' God made the coun- 
 try and man made the town," and we hurry to ocean, forest, 
 mountain and lake to read God's illuminated Gospel which 
 tells of Him who made a beautiful world for His children's 
 pleasure. 
 
 In summer the devil gets in his best work and the crop of 
 fools is unusually large. 
 
 It was in the "good old summer time" that Eglon, king 
 of Moab, a very fat man, was sitting in his summer parlor when 
 Ehud called, gave him a present, and pretending to retire 
 suddenly came back and stabbed him to death. Any other 
 season of the year would have found the king protected by his 
 guard in the palace, but now it was summer, he had dismissed 
 his attendants, was sitting in the open parlor and paid the 
 penalty of his lazy indifference with his life. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 199 
 
 Summer is the time when the sours doors are thrown open, 
 the guards of Scripture command and friendly counsel are dis- 
 missed, and Satan comes in and slays us in the hour of sleepy 
 security. 
 
 The ordinary fool is an extraordinary fool in the summer 
 time. The house is left open to invite thieves ; men and women 
 are half-dressed and slovenly in appearance who could never 
 thus have wooed and won each other in marriage ; people are 
 finicky, fussy and turn up their nose at the food and kick not 
 only the dog and cat but at the cook; men drink more than 
 ever and make a sink of their stomach; women substitute 
 papers and magazines for the Bible ; families go miles to lakes 
 or woods and find it impossible to walk two squares to church ; 
 young people are less careful of the company they keep and 
 the amusements they attend; church members go away for 
 their vacation leaving the rules and regulations of ten months 
 in the year to be thrown to the winds, while they drift without 
 rudder or compass, 'mid the rocks and shoals of sinful pleas- 
 ures and characters. 
 
 The Bible tells of those who have played the fool and died 
 a fool's death like Abner; of fools whose ways are right in 
 their own eyes ; of meddling fools and blind fools ; of fools who 
 make a mock at sin and despise their father's and mother's 
 instruction, and it declares ''the companion of fools shall be 
 destroyed.'* There are all classes of fools outside of the Bible 
 lids and if the Good Book enumerated them all the present 
 price of paper would make it prohibitive, and if their names 
 were listed it would take a high-power auto-truck to carry 
 them around. Among these fools would be found travelling 
 fools, philosophic fools, religious fools, political fools, educa- 
 tional fools, epicurean fools, public fools, and all-around fools 
 who live to eat, dress, drink, gamble, debauch, lie, steal, be 
 idle, avaricious, uncharitable, stingy, sceptical and censorious 
 on their way to the grave where hungry worms wait to ban- 
 quet on their fat bodies — fools all unheeding the great white 
 throne where their souls are to receive retribution for the 
 evil and fool things done on earth. 
 
 Summer is the time when the fool says, *'I am glad to go 
 up into the house of the Lord — except in August ; to pray for 
 
200 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 the peace of Jerusalem — except in August; to remember the 
 Sabbath and to keep it holy— except in August; to love my 
 neighbor as myself -—except in August ; not to covet my neigh- 
 bor 's wife — except in August; not to bear false witness — ex- 
 cept in August; not to commit adultery — except in August.*' 
 It is our religious duty to make the most of our summer 
 vacation. It should be more than a vacuum for it is possible 
 for one to merely vegetate and return with stronger body, but 
 weaker in mind and heart. The virtues of a vacation are found 
 in the study of God in His World Book, and the building up of 
 a strong body and character. 
 
 The wise man's rule for life's happiness here, and heaven- 
 ly joy hereafter, is, ''Fear God and keep his commandments." 
 The biggest fool the year round was the rich man who wanted 
 to tear down his barns and build greater instead of making a 
 granary of his hungry neighbors' stomach. Christ called him 
 a *'fool", for that night the rich fool died and the heaped-up 
 wealth for which he had starved and sold his soul was scat- 
 tered to the four winds of the heaven. ''So is he that layeth 
 up treasure for himself and is not rich towards God. 
 
 ?> 
 
 BUSY BEAVERS 
 
 GOOD-BYE, Los Angeles, angels, adieu! This city was 
 founded by colonists brought here by the command of 
 the government officer to raise produce for the sol- 
 diers at the Presidio recruited in Mexican states. 
 What a difference ! People now flock here without command, 
 glad to come and sorry to go. 
 
 We left the bracing and embracing air and trolleyed to 
 San Pedro, L. A.'s port, that is humping like Vulcan to build 
 war-ships for Uncle Sam. It took Noah a hundred years to 
 make the Ark. Uncle Sam can build one in as many days. We 
 stayed long enough to look at the hulls on the stays and our 
 "hull" attention was riveted by the riveting, caulking and 
 talking. In imagination we saw these ships launched with an 
 argosy of liberty more valuable than the Golden Fleece of Col- 
 
ON THE WARPATH 201 
 
 chis, with heroes on board nobler than the Argonauts, and with 
 songs of freedom sweeter than the lyre of Orpheus. **Bon 
 voyage," ye boats launched against a Teuton Troy. 
 
 Homer describes ship-builders in the Odyssey, calling them 
 "artists". These workers were lightning artists and need an- 
 other Homer to describe them. 
 
 Our boat to Portland, on word from Uncle Sam, changed 
 its mind and went to Australia, so we took the ''Beaver", a 
 good name for a busy boat, plying between San Pedro and 
 Portland. I have seen beavers in the Yellowstone Park that 
 weighed 50 pounds — this was an ocean one, a whale 380 feet 
 long, and 4,500 tons heavy. She gnawed the waves, swam by 
 the navy fort and breakwater, nosing her way along the coast 
 to 'Frisco. As a beaver is a very social animal, so Captain 
 Rankin and the officers were very friendly. ''Working like a 
 beaver" is a proverb that applies to the way our crew worked 
 in port day and night. Beavers have strong, large sharp teeth 
 that can gnaw through a nine-foot circumference tree — ^we 
 beavers ate our way through everything on the table. 
 
 The Beaver paddled into Golden Gate at noon next day 
 and we saw a number of Holland ships our government had 
 just detained and taken over. I gave a two-lip good-bye to a 
 small Dutch craft, stocky as a burgher, just heading out for 
 Batavia, Java, that Sans Souci of the South Seas, that lazy, 
 luxuriant Dutch paradise I visited five years ago. 
 
 PAINTED WOMEN 
 
 IPLING said the only draw-back to Trisco was that 
 it was hard to leave. Since our stay was limited, we 
 wanted to see all that we easily could. 
 
 The first thing a sailor does when he hits a port 
 is to land in some dive where he meets a nymph friend. So 
 *'L" and I, as soon as we left the boat, visited a palatial re- 
 sort where we saw some painted courtesans. Autos were lined 
 up in front and many of 'Frisco's leading citizens were with- 
 in. I made the acquaintance of Anita Ramirez lying languidly 
 on a yellow couch and Celestina, naked except for an elegant 
 
202 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 bath robe thrown around her. My son was captivated with the 
 graces of Papita La Gitana, lovely Lolita and Candida. Two 
 ** women on the balcony" smiled sweetly on us. The two most 
 attractive girls who drew our attention, like Titian Venuses, 
 were both nude, one diva was reclining on a divan with a fan 
 over her face and a parrot at her feet, and the other wearing a 
 Spanish veil over her head and holding a tempting red carna- 
 tion in her hand. 
 
 Of course the reader understands these *' painted" women 
 were on canvas, and the house was the Panama Exposition Art 
 Gallery. This seraglio of beauty was the creation of the 
 famous Spanish artist Ignacio Zuloago. 
 
 The Aladdin palaces of the Exposition had melted away 
 like a dream. I wandered alone where millions had trod. 
 Buildings had vanished, monuments were all in dust, save one 
 crumbling column. With the exception of the Art Museum 
 and surrounding pools, trees, vines and flowers, this fairyland 
 had faded like the dramatist *s *' gorgeous palaces and cloud- 
 capped towers." 
 
 Inspired by the startling senorita pictures, we went that 
 night to see Gertrude Hoffman and her ballet of semi-bare 
 beauties. They were dimly seen through a curtain of cigar and 
 cigaret smoke which I scarcely expected in the Orpheum circuit 
 — but everything goes in 'Frisco. It was well, however, for the 
 modest, moral looker-on, because the bareness of the gyrating 
 Gertrude was draped with smoke. 
 
 'FRISCO 
 
 IN 'Frisco stands for finance, folly, feasts, fashion. 
 Styles are so many and striking that oglers have 
 trouble with their optic nerves. Everything was full 
 of life except the harbor which was empty compared 
 with the forests of masts and funnels from far-off lands and 
 isles we had so often seen here. The war, that accounts for 
 everything, was responsible. The semblance of life was in the 
 motion of the water and the ferries that came and went. We 
 
ON THE WARPATH 203 
 
 ran over to Oakland where the stood for oyster shops on 
 
 every corner and we stood for the oysters. 
 
 Keturning, we sailed by the training island with its sailor 
 
 boys. I happened to remark that war was hell in what it was 
 
 and did. A demure old lady who sat near us replied, yes, and 
 
 pointing to the sailors on the island, said, ''There are some of 
 
 the devils. ' ' I ventured to ask her what she meant and imme- 
 diately she volunteered the information that she was a friend 
 of the Kaiser and hoped he would win the war. This treason- 
 able blast nearly knocked me into the bay. Was this in jest or 
 earnest? She further said she was Scotch-Irish, not German, 
 yet sympathized with the emperor. I told her such talk was 
 un-American, that it was traitorous to feel that way, and to 
 openly say this to a stranger in public was to run the risk of 
 being interned, or worse. Perhaps she is today, or has changed 
 her mind. Maybe she was in some secret service to call out dis- 
 cussion that might lead to arrest. Otherwise she seemed kind- 
 hearted, told me her dead husband had left her plenty of 
 money he had won in a lottery, that she had adopted two Por- 
 tuguese children of a dead mother, and worse than dead father, 
 was keeping them under her wing, feeding, clothing, and send- 
 ing them to school as well as giving them religious instruction. 
 When we landed she melted away into the crowd and I won- * 
 dered at the strange combination of hate and love in her 
 heart. 
 
 That night I sent word over to the Government island to 
 have my navy nephew, Roland Wilkinson, come over to 'Frisco 
 for a visit. We gave him a good time at theatre and cafe, sail- 
 ing into a lot of good things without any shipwreck. 
 
 'Frisco's old and new haunts, cafes, dives, Chinese joints, 
 old Barbary Coast didn't appeal to me this time. We went 
 by, not in. But we were pleased to visit the city's splendid 
 new Library, Capitol, and Municipal Building with its large 
 organ that sends notes of peace, joy and patriotism into thou- 
 sands of hearts. The completion of the buildings for this 
 civic square will equal anything in the country. 
 
 The city prides itself on its club life, and, like all cities, 
 has clubs good and bad. 
 
204 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 CLUB LIFE 
 
 CLUB life is the outgrowth of man's social nature. 
 The history of club life is the history of nations 
 having clubs. 
 
 There have always been clubs, social, political, 
 literary, religious, philosophical, artistic, athletic, commercial 
 — places of meeting for the* exchange of ideas of fools, philos- 
 ophers and fanatics. 
 
 Cain used the first club with deadly effect and millions 
 have been killed by clubs ever since. The War Club is the 
 leading club today. 
 
 A club is defined as a "stick of wood," and is significant 
 
 of many wooden-headed clubmen; a club is also a *' playing 
 card, ' ' and fitly represents some club gamblers who play from 
 early morn to dewy eve. 
 
 Addison, Goldsmith, Hazlitt, Hunt, Johnson, Stevenson and 
 many others have written instructively and entertainingly 
 about clubs and club life, but the majority of club members I 
 have met never seem to have heard of these authors or to 
 have read their works. Instead, they are lovers of the com- 
 monplace. They are void of thought, sentiment and imagina- 
 tion. They loaf around with a cigar in their mouth, news- 
 paper in their hands and with no original ideas in their head. 
 If they talk, it is not to state an idea, but to talk for the sake 
 of talking. They feed their body and starve their mind and 
 soul. They lounge, gossip, play chess or cards, chat, eat and 
 drink. Rich club life deoxygenizes the air of mentality and 
 spirituality ; wastes time and money ; antagonizes home ; loafs 
 in luxury, and has an elegance that stifles serious thought, 
 study and culture. 
 
 Some clubs are as good as can be while others are as bad 
 as possible ; some are safe and others unsafe. The test of 
 club life is its influence on home, business and religious life. 
 A club is good if it makes one truer to his wife, employer and 
 Bible. A club is bad if it does not stand the three-fold test 
 in respect to body, mind and soul. In all the clubs I have 
 visited around the world I never yet found one which posted 
 
ON THE WARPATH 205 
 
 among' its Rules and Regulations a copy of the Ten Command- 
 ments. 
 
 Piety and patriotism, happiness and safety of the nation 
 are oftener found in married homes than in bachelor clubs. 
 God has no double standard for running a club, whether it 
 be the rich club up town, or the poor club down town. The 
 word ''drunk" applies to the society man full of champagne 
 as much as to the down-and-out bum soused with beer in 
 a filthy joint. 
 
 Clubs, like trees, are known by their fruit. Club life is 
 often the Devil's best hammer to knock the heart out of 
 home, business, society and the church. 
 
 When men are away from home every night in the week, 
 are genial and generous at the club, but come home cross 
 and tired just for something to eat or a place to sleep, and 
 make home a kind of dry-dock for repairs, they wrong 
 themselves and their families. 
 
 Son and daughter naturally follow the club example of 
 father and mother, and soon the home nest is empty. Chil- 
 dren are neglected, they fall victims to temptation, and for 
 their murdered lives God will put the Cain mark on the guilty 
 souls or club-crazy parents. 
 
 IN IRONS 
 
 lUR boat was loaded at 'Frisco when we started for 
 Portland, so were some of the passengers carrying 
 wet goods inside and outside in their suit-cases, for 
 Portland is dry, and quite a paying business is done 
 in smuggling booze where ''rolls the Oregon." 
 
 That evening a gang of young 'Frisco sports attempted 
 to turn the salon cabin into a bar room ballad hall. There 
 had been some general instrumental and vocal music which 
 was followed by a booze-soaked singer whose notes were 
 very liquid. He couldn't stand up to sing and so sat on 
 the nape of his neck, sprawled out his legs and bawled 
 out some rather coarse ballads to please his boon companions, 
 but it was annoying and embarrassing to many of the lady 
 
206 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 and gentleman passengers. No one could stop him, the 
 cabin steward avoided him, and finally I suggested that 
 he had finished his part of the program and a rest was in 
 order. His reply was a rougher and louder encore. 
 
 When the mate heard of it he made a ** curse "ory inspec- 
 tion, hauled him out, dragged him to the bridge and placed 
 him in irons for the fresh air to sober and sweeten him. 
 Then the captain gave him some fatherly advice and he was 
 sent to bed in hopes that he would get up a good little boy 
 the next morning. You see this was an American boat. Such 
 conduct would not only pass, but be applauded on Mexican 
 and South American boats, but not up here. 
 
 Captain Rankin of the *' Beaver" ranks number one every 
 way. He was kind, capable, genial on deck and at the table. 
 He invited us to feel at home in his finely furnished cabin 
 where there were more than nautical books to read. A vic- 
 trola gave us classic and popular records and I noticed some 
 curios on his desk for good cheer. Among them was the 
 skull of a murdered man of Peru, which the captain had 
 picked up and made into an electric lamp. His description 
 of the big 'Frisco quake, while his boat was in the harbor, and 
 what he later experienced in town, was as thrilling as any 
 book in his library. The captain was a true salt and thor- 
 oughly saturated with Masefield's and Kipling's sea poems. 
 
 ON THE OCEAN 
 
 EN route to Portland the reflections of the ocean were 
 brilliant and beautiful, no matter how dull and plain 
 the following reflections were that I made on it. 
 
 To w^rite on the ocean is difficult — especially if it 
 is rough. It is a big, deep, wide subject, and only dry and 
 shallow when some people talk and write about it. It over- 
 whelms and drowns you with its volume, variety, voice and 
 vastness. It occupies three pages in the Encyclopaedia and 
 142,000,000 square miles of the earth's surface. The earth is 
 mostly water — 72 per cent. The ocean is the salt of the earth. 
 The ocean basin is immense. Here Apollo ducks his head 
 
ON THE WARPATH 207 
 
 after his hot hike across the heavens. When it is dark, chaste 
 Diana takes a dip, and the stars rise from it with bright and 
 shining faces. Over the ocean floor slimy, oozy, woozy monsters 
 crawl. Its circulation is good with tides and current events. 
 On the map the currents swish here and there like the tails 
 of Neptune's horses. Luna controls the tides, but no lunatic 
 of high or low brow can write an accurate tide book. Volumes 
 of prose and poetry on the ocean are full of figures allegorical 
 and metaphorical, but I found more ** figures" in an ocean tide 
 book than in any other volume I ever read. 
 
 I have sailed the Seven] Seas of the world, and like 
 ** Chris" have cris-crossed up and down the ocean like lines 
 of latitude and longitude, yet when it comes to my scientific 
 knowledge of the sea, its *' distribution of density" is only 
 surpassed by the water on my brain. 
 
 A mist of mystery and myth of old hung over the ocean. 
 According to the ancients, who knew little about it, it was 
 peopled with monsters and islands. Homer thought it was a 
 river that ran around the world. I am sure the little boy 
 of long ago never went to sleep over his geography lesson, 
 for the map was as interesting and terrifying as a nurse's 
 ghost story. The ocean was the haunt of horror, and was 
 spelled and pronounced **0 Shun." On one chart of the Mid- 
 dle Ages a giant stands on the Canary island holding a big 
 club and refusing to allow the ships to sail west. Another 
 ancient map showed pictures of water-unicorns and sea-mon- 
 sters, sporting through space and robbing the navigators. The 
 Arabians pictured a big hand of Satan lifted up above the 
 horizon ready to seize the mariner if he went any further. 
 In the far North a gigantic mollusk was thought to be sus- 
 pended in the air to smother and choke the captain and his 
 crew. 
 
 I have read many traveller's tales yet always envied the 
 Argonauts and Sinbad the Sailor who always got their money's 
 worth and had a trip full of spills and thrills. Those were the 
 good old sea dogs and days! How delightful it would be to 
 book on one of their cruises! Today we have a tame time 
 — nothing but a submarine for a sea-monster, an aeroplane 
 for a giant roc or harpy, and only a mine instead of a Scylla 
 
208 ON THE V/ARPATH 
 
 and Charybdis. The sea was once the home of the Gods — 
 now of devils. The Greeks and Romans saw divinities in the 
 ocean, now we see the workings of Satan. Instead of the 
 superstitious hand of Satan, we have the mailed fist of the 
 Kaiser barring progress on the sea — an act of piracy. 
 
 Keats gives a wonderful description of Neptune's palace 
 — I never saw it. The ancient classics are full of mermaids 
 and nymphs — I never found one even with a spy-glass. Had 
 I drunk a glass of Helicon spring water I might have been 
 able to see them. Today, instead of Triton's wreathed horn, 
 one only hears the fog and fish-horn. The only siren is the 
 steamship whistle. Where have these se'a beauties gone? 
 Have they grown old and died, or are they afraid and ashamed 
 of us and hidden away in some shady sea cavern. Perhaps 
 the wild waves are telling us if we could only understand. 
 
 In the Psalmist's day the waves lifted up their voice — 
 they do now in speech and song if we could hear them. Why 
 shouldn't there be music to the roar of the deep sea, and a 
 tune — is it not presided over by Nep'Hune" and his trident 
 pitch fork? 
 
 If you want to know how small and weak you are, visit 
 the sea. Should you grow poetic and eloquent the ocean 
 will encore you, but only say ''Sh-s-sh, Sh-s-sh!" 
 
 The ocean is a good actor and plays many parts. As a 
 gourmand, its appetite swallows everything, like death, be it 
 a ship or a shore. It acts as a wet-nurse to the islands. It is a 
 miser to hoard and never gives up its gold — just throws up 
 scum on the shore. In spite of a continual washing the shore 
 is very dirty. It keeps its secrets closer than the Sphinx. It 
 is the grave-digger of cities and empires. It is an incessant 
 talker, speaking volumes — I am willing to stop when it be- 
 gins. It is the tutor of poets, painters and scientists, and a 
 patron of commerce. When ships first ploughed the sea, com- 
 merce grew. The ocean is epical as a poem and epochal in 
 time. 
 
 The ocean is the eternal enemy of earth. It is a race track 
 for the winds. Its big face mirrors all moods of sunset and 
 storm. The ocean is free, the only chain it wears is a light 
 one of sun and moonlight. The domain of Oceanus is walled 
 
ON THE WARPATH 209 
 
 in by continents and extends from floating ice-palaces in tlie 
 North to tropic pleasure-island gardens in the the South. The 
 ocean is a great traveler and visits every shore. It is a watery 
 world in itself where myriad forms of fish live. Of old, people 
 shrank in terror at the sea, but the only time it shrank was 
 when Phaeton drove the horses of the sun too near the earth. 
 The ocean is cursed by mariners and sea-sick travellers; is 
 importuned by sailors' wives whose husbands are being 
 drowned ; is praised by writers in rippling rhymes and spark- 
 ling prose ; is unmoved by what man says and moves in its 
 own way. 
 
 I love the ocean — to be on it, in it, by it, over it. I love 
 to see it, smell it, feel it, hear it — but not to taste it. I have 
 seen Mt. Everest, the highest point of the globe, and would 
 like to see the lowest depth of the sea off the island of Guam 
 — 31,614 feet. How would you like to be the deep sea diver 
 there and go down six miles? 
 
 The ocean is exhaustless and it is useless to attempt to 
 write an exhaustive treatise on it. Think of its history from 
 the Ark to the submarine ! Instead of being a fairy-tale it 
 has become a ferry-transit. King Ocean is majestic, has all 
 the world at his feet and levies tribute from all the seas and 
 rivers. 
 
 The ocean is what you are, whether you look at it with 
 eyes of the artists, poet or fishmonger. Ocean swells attract 
 people to build hotels by it, and dance, and promenade by 
 it in stunning bathing suits. Travelers come to the ocean and 
 change their habitations though not their habits. The water 
 colors of the sea are Red, White, Yellow and Black. The 
 merry widow comes to the beach, like the ocean, to cast her 
 weeds. 
 
 Strange that such a big pond as the Pacific Ocean was 
 never stumbled on or sailed over by the ancients. It wears 
 the coral necklaces of the islands as ornaments. It is a 
 monster with hurricanes in its mane and ships in its maw. 
 It is a cradle of the deep to rock in, or an old Nurse to 
 jolt you up and down. I wonder what dead men dream in 
 the ocean bed? The ocean is a big dose of ipecac. Giant gales 
 leap over it, laugh and take days to quiet the sides of their 
 
210 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 mirth. The ocean has a phosphorescence of jet, pearl and 
 sapphire. How pleasant to walk in the snow of the surf 
 and pat the neck of the waves. On land, the morning sun 
 climbs and looks through pine, or over hill and chimney — 
 on the sea it comes down to bathe. 
 
 Horace said the first sailor was brave and ventured out 
 with a heart bound with oak and triple brass. Man is a 
 migratory animal. The first wish of man in one place is to go 
 to another. In the beginning sailors ventured only from island 
 to island and point to point — later across the seas. It was 
 hard to watch and plan on the weather for they had no 
 chart, map, compass, lighthouse, or wireless. 
 
 To write on the ocean is like taking a tin cup and filling 
 it on the beach. There is so much water, the waves tumble, 
 splash and foam so much, that you get very little. The sea 
 is to the earth what the blood is to the body, the pulsing 
 vital fluid. Dry up the ocean and this green world would be 
 an ash-heap. 
 
 The Bible reference to the ocean is chiefly concerning its 
 power and danger. All that some see now is destruction and 
 cruelty. To others the ocean is a joy forever, a thing of 
 beauty, of gleaming water, shelly shore and sweet and sublime 
 voice. -^^ 
 
 Moralists and ministers, who preach and teach of Bible 
 analogies in nature, love to repeat the words of John, the 
 seer of Patmos. Tradition speaks of this old flsherman saint 
 as a sort of Prometheus prisoner in that little isle of the 
 Aegean and as going up to the point of rock, alone and 
 homesick for his absent friends. The rustle of the bird's 
 wing over his head, the sighing of the sea breeze, the splash 
 of the waves, the white-lipped foam on the rocks, all said, 
 *'And there was no more sea" — of separation, change and 
 storm in the blessed Paradise his soul was soon to anchor in. 
 
 For hours and days I have watched the sea from shore, 
 and for weeks and months on shipboard. You don't know 
 the ocean unless you have lived with it. A land-lubber once 
 told me it seemed a waste of time and money just to sail, 
 since there was nothing but water to see, and the idea of 
 wasting a month to reach Australia was ridiculous. But the 
 
ON THE WARPATH 211 
 
 ocean is the only thing in nature that never stales, that is 
 always fresh and new, that has a different sound, shape and 
 shade every hour. Smooth as a lake, it mirrors cloud, sun 
 and star ; mad with storm, it is a hell of howling, hissing water 
 hurling its mountain waves against the ship and rocky shore, 
 bringing wreck and death. Gentle, it plays with children on 
 the shore, kissing their little bare feet and the pebbles and 
 shells they play with. 
 
 Descend into the land quarry and you will find rippling 
 tide marks of long ago and forms of petrified skeleton fish. 
 Climb the mountain summits and you see corals and shells 
 once washed up. The ocean is never idle. It undermines 
 the cliff or throws up a shore. Geology tells us that what 
 are now sea beds will be future continents, and that the 
 dry continents were once ocean beds. Clouds sail from the 
 ocean and bear argosies of moisture for the creek, river and 
 lake to give drink to man, to beautify earth, to grow har- 
 vests and to give autumn frost, and winter snow and ice. 
 
 The ocean — what a sepulchre ! Countless millions of dead 
 lie in coral sand and rocky tomb decked with seaweed, pearl 
 and shell — the waves moaning their requiem, the salt water 
 shedding tears over their unknelled, uncoffined remains. 
 
 I never bathe in the sea without wishing that I might be 
 metamorphosed into it to understand how its floor was laid; 
 how its seaweed and coral grew; how its tides, waves and 
 billows were made, how many the haunts of its fishes and 
 how glorious the caves of its pearl. 
 
 How small and self-satisfied we are. How little we can 
 know and hold. Visitors come to the ocean for a day or 
 two, return to their inland village to years of toil, and for- 
 get all about it. 
 
 But I love it. As the moon controls the tide, so the ocean, 
 green and blue, with its ebb and flow, quiet and storm, influ- 
 ences me after I have left it. The cup of my soul brims over 
 with ecstacy of the sea's sublimity, and I say with the 
 Psalmist, "My cup runneth over." 
 
 Diving around in the ocean of sea literature from Homer 
 to Swinburne I found this gem from Heine — treasure it in 
 your memory: 
 
212 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 "Far into the depths o£ the night I stood by the ocean 
 and wept. I am not ashamed of those tears. Achilles, too, 
 wept by the ocean strand until his silver-footed mother rose 
 from the waves to comfort him. I, too, heard a voice from 
 among the waters, but less consoling; on the contrary, it was 
 startling, imperious, and yet profoundly wise. For the ocean 
 knows everything: at night the stars confide to it the most 
 hidden secrets of the firmament; in its depths, among the 
 fabulous long-drowned empires, lie also the ancient long-for- 
 gotten lores of the earth; at every coast it listens with a 
 thousand billowy eavesdropping ears; and the rivers that 
 flow into it bring to it tidings gathered in the most distant 
 inland countries, even the babble of the brooks and mountain- 
 springs, which they have overheard. But when the ocean 
 has revealed to you its secrets and has whispered into your 
 heart the mighty world-emancipating word, then farewell 
 repose! Farewell peaceful dreams." 
 
 ASTORIA'S STORY 
 
 HE trip up the coast was calm as far as the Colum- 
 bia river's mouth, which was frothing and blowing 
 with a 60-mile gale. 
 
 Sunday came, wet and windy, yet we were up ear- 
 ly and sang ''Hail, Columbia" as we entered the big river. 
 There were green-wooded islands, wild, tree-covered hills and 
 headlands that could be seen now and then as the wind snatch- 
 ed the cloud curtains aside. Lumber mills and fish canneries 
 were many. The little towns on the rocks among the pines 
 resembled the settlements I had seen in Alaska and Norway. 
 
 Astoria, 70 miles northwest of Portland, was founded by 
 John Jacob Astor in 1811, and in its early history was noted 
 for its fur trade. Today it is a shipping port for flour and 
 grain, and known for its many salmon canneries, seining and 
 large lumber industries. We saw many ships on the stays. The 
 Union Jack floated over Astoria in 1813, and in 1818 it was 
 restored to America by the Treaty of Ghent. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 213 
 
 We docked at the wharf in time for church, while the 
 cargo was being unloaded, but through Portland passengers 
 were not allowed to disembark, and those who did were com- 
 pelled to show passports and give the reason why. The official 
 guard at the gang was an ex-editor, now in a political position, 
 who used his former blue pencil as a club to keep out what he 
 didn't want. He was unnecessarily and unfairly arbitrary. 
 One might come from Portland here by rail, but we could not 
 step off the boat unless we wished to act as stevedores and 
 unload the cargo in the rain. Neither the work nor the wages 
 were attractive enough to allure, so we were mere lookers-on 
 at this wet Venice — this muddy, melancholy, miserable place 
 where the inhabitants must be web-footed to get around. 
 
 Why were American citizens thus barred? Because they 
 came from 'Frisco with a bomb, or from Los Angeles with a 
 bag of whisky, or to foment strikes among the shipbuilders, 
 or to attempt to blow up a troop train? The red tape extending 
 from Washington was long enough and strong enough to keep 
 passengers out who had been permitted freedom of the city 
 at San Pedro and 'Frisco and were to disembark at Portland. 
 The fact is, no such order was necessary. No one was very 
 anxious to get off at Astoria and climb up its perpendicular 
 streets, wade through its ankle-deep mud, and allow the rain 
 from the eaves of the wooden buildings to give him a shower- 
 bath. What I saw of the town inclines me to the belief that 
 Astoria is a good place for exile and banishment, or for the 
 location of an insane asylum. Maj^be the reason we were not 
 allowed ashore was because the inhabitants are so depressed 
 by the weather that half of them are mad and inclined to pick 
 a fight with anyone inclined to come ashore. 
 
 In his charming volume, "Astoria," Washington Irving 
 tells of the trials and troubles of the long-ago trappers, In- 
 dians and traders around here. Had he been on the ''Beaver," 
 he might have found material for additional chapters, and 
 would doubtless have written them in a different mood. Our 
 passengers' reception and rejection was not in the generous 
 spirit of the distinguished J. J. Astor after whom the town 
 was named, or of the genial American genius who has immor- 
 talized it in his ''Astoria," so replete with fact and anecdote 
 and told in most engaging style. 
 
214 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 PORTLAND AND WATER 
 
 THE rain came down as we went up the river, and it 
 was appropriate that we should see some water-fowl. 
 Sometimes elk are seen, though rarely, for Elks dis- 
 like water and keep far from it. At night our boat 
 passed many shipyards where shifts of men were busy build- 
 ing ships in the big glare of electric lights. It was Sunday, 
 and the evening worship was warships. 
 
 The bridge went up and we docked at Portland. The wet, 
 fog and flickering lights and shadows were of the London vari- 
 ety. Portland is a city noted for its cement. This solid has 
 made it famous as some liquids have advertised other cities. 
 Portland has a port, but, with rain and rivers Willamette and 
 Columbia, I could scarcely see the land. The city is a great 
 grain, lumber, flour and shipping port. In the background the 
 Cascade mountains are always in view — this night every sky- 
 scraper was a Cascade cliff and drenched us. 
 
 I know that the sun shines here — it is no rumor or legend — 
 for I have seen it. From the heights of the city, which slope 
 up from the rivers, I have been thrilled with entrancing view 
 of harbors, rivers, lakes, islands, beautiful and fertile valleys, 
 and the sunlit and moonlit, snow-capped peaks of Mts. Hood, 
 Adams, Ranier, St. Helens and Jefferson. To these mountains 
 Goldsmith's line about ''eternal sunshine" settling on his head 
 does not apply, for far too oft the traveler finds naught but 
 cloud and fog. 
 
 SALT LAKE SAINTS 
 
 JGDEN is a thriving Mormon city, but I wasn't a Mor- 
 mon, and my stay was short. I felt no need to go to 
 the city's School for the Deaf, enter the General Hos- 
 pital, and Sacred Heart Academy, no time to read the 
 Carnegie Library, or find the iron, gold and silver said to be 
 in the adjacent mountains. I wasn't a merchant, and so was 
 not especially interested in her manufacture of beet sugar, 
 canned goods, guns, collapsible boxes and beer. But I was 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 215 
 
 apple-hungry. For miles we had seen big apples on the trees 
 and on the ground, yet I couldn't get a bite. As soon as the 
 train stopped I went to a fruit store and filled my arms 
 and pockets. The town topic I heard here was that restric- 
 tions were to be made at the movies; not on the films, but on 
 the love-making audiences in the dark picture houses. 
 
 An hour's run brought us to the city of the Latter Day 
 Saints, having passed by America's Dead Sea, which is very 
 lively during the season. Years ago I went in bathing at this 
 Salt Air beach with Charles Spurgeon's son. Here one floats 
 like a cork or a corpse on this 22 per cent salt body of water. 
 It is well called the Dead Sea, for it suggested the one I 
 splashed in at Palestine, the supposed sepulchre of Sodom and 
 Gomorrah. 
 
 Our pious pilgrimage had included the *'City of Angels" 
 and concluded with a visit to the ''City of the Latter Day 
 Saints." There is always room for improvement, and I trust 
 the latter days are better than the former ones. 
 
 My interest in Salt Lake dates from the time my Uncle 
 *'Hi" used to regale my youthful mind with the account of 
 his service as postmaster under Brigham Young — how he 
 drove the coach on the El Paso mail line, was shot at by the 
 Indians, tied to the stake and yet managed to escape and un- 
 fold a tale whose slightest words used to freeze my boyish 
 soul. On his visit to us in St. Louis he brought many souve- 
 nirs, among them Indian arrows which he had pulled out of 
 the dead body of one of his stage-drivers. 
 
 There are many sight-seeing trips in town, and the best 
 sight to me is the great temple of the Wasatch mountain 
 masonry built by the great Creator. To the Mormon the great- 
 est temple is the one built by Brigham Young. Since I had 
 visited most of the great heathen temples of the world, I 
 naturally journeyed to this one. Crossing the street to the 
 ''Sacred Square" of the Temple grounds, I met Brigham 
 Young — ^his statue. His hand was extended to me in welcome, 
 as I first thought, but in reality it was held out toward a big 
 bank, as if he needed some money to take care of his many 
 wives. Passing this polygamous pioneer, though not pioneer 
 polygamist, for there were savages before him that believed 
 
216 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 in being much married, I entered the Temple grounds. An 
 elder, bearded like the pard, was our guide. He first directed 
 us to the Seagull Monument. Just as the geese saved Rome, 
 so seagulls saved the early Mormon settlers by eating the 
 crickets that were eating the crops. The gulls perched on the 
 monument weighed 500 pounds. What a cricket capacity they 
 had! 
 
 I took a squint at the big, turtle-shaped tabernacle that 
 still squats here. Under its roof shell 8,000 people may sit 
 and distinctly hear the voice of the speaker and the music of 
 the choir and organ. I remember attending a former service 
 and recall the crowds, the big organ, the sermon and the sac- 
 rament administered to everyone, little children included. One 
 thing in the service was especially impressive. I found a hat 
 number slipped from the band and stuck on the bald head of 
 a devout devotee, disputing the right to be there with several 
 straggling gray hairs. 
 
 This is just a side tent, compared with the show-place, the 
 white granite Temple. It is about 200 feet long, 100 wide 
 and 100 high. There is a tower on each corner 220 feet high. It 
 was begun in 1853, finished in 1893, and cost nearly $6,000,000. 
 Here the Mormons are ''sealed," and it is sealed shut to all 
 other religionists, as well as to bad Mormonists. On the out- 
 side of the Temple are symbols of the sun, moon and stars, like 
 the configuration on an astrologer's robe. The statues of the 
 Smiths, Joseph and Hirum, are almost as world-widely known 
 and in the mouths of as many millions as the Smith Brothers, 
 makers of cough-drops. 
 
 Our guide was very careful to give us all the dimensions 
 of the Temple structure, but they were simply material. I 
 insist on knowing, of this and every church building, 
 how high it is spiritually, how deep it is mentally, how broad 
 it is philanthropically, and whether it is long on creed and 
 short on conduct. 
 
 Marriage is the main and embracing tenet of the Mormon 
 religion. If married within the Temple, there is a knot that 
 binds the couple in this life and the life to come. Perchance 
 this is the reason so many Mormon marriages are outside the 
 Temple and terminate with the grave. Doubtless, in many 
 
ON THE WARPATH 217 
 
 instances, a man who is a faithful husband here desires to be 
 rewarded hereafter by being free. Brigham Young's motto 
 was "Bring 'em young," and, next to Solomon and the Sul- 
 tan, he had a fine assortment of lady friends and a family big 
 enough of small kids to run a kindergarten. There is no doubt 
 that he was a great man. He made the desert blossom as the 
 rose, and died leaving seventeen widows, forty-four children 
 and several millions of property. Years ago, I visited the 
 "Amelia Palace" which he built for the actress, the nineteenth 
 wife he fell in love with. This palace was a monument, in and 
 out, of what money can do to bribe, buy, blaspheme and blast. 
 It has recently been converted into Red Cross headquarters. 
 Near by is Brigham 's grove, where he sleeps with his numerous 
 wives. 
 
 Z.C.M.I." are the cabalistic letters that stare at you — 
 Zion's Co-operative Mercantile Institution." The Mormons 
 have a monopoly on everything you buy and sell, and they 
 can no more be dislodged than the mountains and lakes from 
 the landscape. I.N.R.I. was the Roman inscription over the 
 wooden cross at Calvary. Here the blessed Son of God is 
 crucified on a golden cross with the overhead inscription, 
 Z.C.M.I. 
 
 < I 
 
 STEEET SCENES 
 
 |ORT DOUGLAS, out from town, is most beautifully sit- 
 uated, and there we saw our soldier boys in good 
 trim. The most striking thing is the German intern- 
 ment camp. "L" photographed a sign on a tree read- 
 ing "War Prison — Keep Out." No such advice was needed, 
 for there was the barbed-wire enclosure with hundreds 
 of German prisoners behind it, many of whom were brought 
 over from war-interned Pacific ships. Several prisoners had 
 escaped. Yet I don't see why, for there's good situation, sani- 
 tation, ease, comfort and food. This is a fine German club, 
 where the membership is compulsory. The barracks seem to 
 be quite as good as those given our soldier boys. Some of 
 
218 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 the prisoners were washing and cooking. I sincerely trust 
 German ''kultur" includes an equally good care of our boys 
 in Germany. 
 
 Salt Lake City has broad streets, beautiful parks and clear 
 cold water to drink. The walks are wide, probably made so 
 originally that the kind husband and father, coming downtown 
 to shop with his wives and kids, might not be crowded off into 
 the gutter.- The streets are very wide, wide enough for New 
 York or Chicago with their great traffic, but they were so 
 empty that I wonder the vehicles do not get lost. 
 
 City streets are always closed on account of repairs for 
 gas and water, but I never saw one closed for children to 
 repair for play during school recess. There was a sign reading 
 *' Street Closed During School Intermissions." Here the school 
 children were romping and playing to their hearts' content, 
 with no fear of being run over, and their game of hide-and- 
 seek was less dangerous than that of other city children play- 
 ing hide-and-seek behind passing autos and wagons. This plan 
 should be recommended to cities that shut up their boys, put 
 them in gutters, or expose them to jitney juggernauts. After 
 recess the streets are open as usual. The Mormon church be- 
 lieves in raising children and preserving them for future gen- 
 erations. 
 
 The wards of our cities are political. Here they are reli- 
 gious, for the church in Salt Lake vies with the other on the 
 Tiber in attempting supreme rule. There are forty-five eccle- 
 siastical wards or districts in the city, each one of which is 
 presided over by a bishop and two counsellors. These Mormon 
 *' fathers" are thoroughly known to every member of their 
 wards, and they keep tab on all the members do, say and give, 
 so that they may either recommend or deny their fitness to 
 enter the holy Mormon Temple. 
 
 D stands for dancing, one of the leading doctrines of the 
 Mormon church. The largest dancing floor of the world is in 
 the Salt Air pavilion. We visited the Odeon dancing hall, con- 
 ducted by a church elder, who took us into his confidence when 
 he learned **L." and I had been in the South Seas, as trav- 
 elers, where he had been a propagating, propaganding mission- 
 ary. We watched the dance of the novitiates and of the grad- 
 
ON THE WARPATH 219 
 
 uates above. The main ads in the papers, on cars, on theatre 
 curtains and programs were for the dance. Is it possible, if 
 there are four steps to church membership, the two-step is 
 half way? Among heathen and savage tribes dancing is a 
 religious rite. Is it here? 
 
 FREE-LOVE RELIGION 
 
 IrIGHAM young is reported to have said, in a ser- 
 mon, that the sisters Martha, Mary and Mary Mag- 
 dalene were Christ's plural wives, and that it was on 
 the occasion of his own marriage at Cana at Galilee 
 that He turned the water into wine. 
 
 Mormonism has been a premium on polygamous passion. 
 The more physical wives a man lived with here the greater 
 his spiritual honor was to be in heaven hereafter. This was an 
 insult to world-wide womanhood. It meant universal white 
 slavery, a brotherly brothel, a sisterly seraglio, and preached 
 the loyalty of lust and the carnival of corruption. 
 
 *' Congress shall make no law respecting religion. *' In this 
 land one may serve the invisible God or a statue of Buddha, so 
 long as he is moral and patriotic. Let the Mormons say Sun- 
 day that Joseph Smith was God and that Brigham Young was 
 the Savior, if they care to — they have a choice of any religion 
 or no religion, but neither they nor anyone else, under the 
 guise of religion, may insult decency and morality the rest of 
 the week. 
 
 The president of the church has recently urged all Mormon 
 widowers to marry again. Why not? This is in strict accord 
 with its embracing and all-embracing creed, which includes 
 not alone everybody, male and female, but every belief. The 
 Mormon is very adaptable, he is a cosmopolite, and his creed 
 is composite. He believes with the Baptists in immersion; 
 with the Campbellites in apostolic ordinances ; with the Metho- 
 dists in obeying his bishop ; with the Spiritualists in hearing 
 voices from the dead; with a Theosophist in affirming pre- 
 existence ; with the Faith-Healer in the laying on of hands ; 
 with the Universalist, that all will be saved ; with the Second 
 Adventist, that the Messiah will appear again. 
 
220 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 The word " Mormonism " suggests a libertine, bandit and 
 murderer. The city is charming and the citizens polite and 
 hospitable. They welcome you and seek to make you forget 
 their history of murder, outrage and tragedy. Mormonism 
 and Utah were once one ; now Mormonism is several, including 
 Wyoming, Utah, Nevada, Arizona, Idaho and New Mexico. 
 Its flesh-pots make a big political feast, and its vast solid wealth 
 spreads its doctrines with greater and widening influence. 
 Mormonism is a cross between lust and lucre ; its heaven a sort 
 of spiritual incubator. 
 
 Their decimal doctrine, their ten per cent, or tithing of one- 
 tenth from each for the good of all, is a great graft. ''Give 
 one-tenth" is the church's demand, and ''give" the members 
 do, whether they are rich or poor. From cradle to coffin, the 
 Mormons are ground between the millstones of the Co-opera- 
 tive stores and societies. 
 
 Years ago Editor Godwin of Salt Lake told me that per- 
 jury and Mormonism were synonymous, and that the oath 
 taken at the religious endowment house made all other vows 
 to the government at Washington nil. 
 
 I have met Mormons in every quarter of the globe. They 
 are sent out to proselyte and tell the poor and ignorant that 
 they may come to the United States with their expenses paid, 
 and settle in the New World paradise free with milk and 
 honey, where head and heartache are unknown. 
 
 The Salt Lake city suggests a bodily and financially per- 
 secuted race of Gentiles, government rebellion, and degraded 
 and dishonored mothers, wives and sisters. 
 
 For years this fair valley of Utah was an Aceldema of 
 blood, poured out by the Gentile-destroying Danites and the 
 hacking Hickman butchers. 
 
 THE MORMON BIBLE 
 
 I HE Mormon Bible is said to have required at least 
 two men to write it, the Mormon prophet and his 
 son, Moroni. It is supposed to be a resume of Amer^ 
 ican history from the time the tongues went crazy 
 at the towers of Babel until 420 A. D. It seems this period of 
 
ON THE WARPATH 221 
 
 history is not included in the complete historical works of our 
 American writers, Bancroft, Ridpath and others. Bancroft 
 certainly put a ban on this date, and Ridpath rid his course 
 of this disconnected, disconcerted bunk. I have a copy of 
 this holy book which I brought from Utah years ago, and I 
 have placed it in the poor fiction section of my library, because 
 there is no literary or spiritual value in it. 
 
 We are gravely informed that this Book of Mormon is a 
 translation of a volume that was found buried in a stone box 
 on Cumorah Hill, near Manchester, N. Y., and was printed for 
 the public in 1830. More precious than ancient papyrus or 
 vellum manuscript was this gold-plated one that has enabled 
 the Mormon church to pile its tithe collections full of gold and 
 running over. In this stone strong-box of Cumorah this gold 
 mummy manuscript was exhumed. It consisted of gold plates, 
 8x7 inches in size, all fastened together by three golden rings. 
 The message was recorded on the plates in a sort of reformed 
 Egyptian. Arabic in any form is the most difficult of any 
 language, so its meaning was interpreted by the use of two 
 crystals, called Urim and Thummim, that were set like spec- 
 tacles in a silver bowl. 
 
 For size, this book is as large as the Old Testament, and 
 by some profane Gentiles is regarded as a travesty on it, while 
 its contents are thought to be in substance an unprinted ro- 
 mance entitled^ ' The Found Manuscript," by a Mr. Solomon 
 Spaulding. It fell into the hands of Sidney Rigdon and was 
 copied and communicated to Joe Smith. "We '* non-elect," 
 uninitiated sinners are told in a simple speech that this repro- 
 duction was the result of a subconscious hypnotic state under 
 the influence of the quartz crystals. So, there you have it, and 
 I hope you understand it better than I do. Barnum was right 
 when he echoed Puck's sentiment of **fools" loving to be 
 humbugged. 
 
 The Mormon Bible is a hodge-podge potpourri from Old 
 and New Testaments and many other book quotations — a Bible 
 burlesque and a dose of unliterary laudanum. I spare my 
 readers any quotations. Mark Twain said that if Joseph 
 Smith composed this book the act was a miracle ; at any rate, 
 it was a miracle that he kept awake while he did it. There are 
 
222 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 fifteen books in this Bible that in cold type reflect its stupidity 
 and ungrammatical inaccuracy. I am quite sure the book has 
 been little read by Mormons, Judged by their actions, for its 
 writings at least do not sanction their many acts of profligacy 
 and rebellion. Some Mormons use our King James Bible, but 
 regard it as so scrappy and incomplete that they add their own 
 Mormon Bible as containing much valuable truth not found 
 in the Jewish or Christian Scriptures. 
 
 OLD BKIGHAM YOUNG 
 
 BRIGHAM YOUNG achieved the honor of being the sec 
 ond president of the Mormon church and the founder 
 of Utah. In 1801 he was born in Whittingham, Vt., 
 the Green Mountain state, and he was far from being 
 green. In earlier years he was a carpenter and painter, and 
 as he pounded nails and daubed with his brush he was all 
 unconsciously preparing himself to make a religious platform 
 and whiten it up so that it would resemble a sanctuary, though 
 it might be a real whited sepulchre. Moved by a restless 
 spirit, he changed his latitude and longitude, and went to 
 Meridian, N. Y., where in 1832 he was perverted and con- 
 verted to Mormonism. Though always Young, he became an 
 elder, and, with the idea of being identified sooner or later 
 with a big family, he joined himself to Joseph Smith, at Kirt- 
 land, Ohio, and was sent on a missionary tour to Canada. 
 
 The one and two night stands were prosperous. Good or 
 not, he made good officially, and became one of the twelve 
 apostles in 1835. Whether he was like the original James, 
 John or Judas, practical, spiritual or mostly financial, has 
 been the subject of much ink and breath. When it happened 
 that Thomas Marsh got into the swamp of apostasy, and his 
 friend, Joe Smith, was barred by being thrown into jail by 
 government authorities in Missouri, who were not pleased with 
 his religious exhibit. Young ordered the Marsh brig to be 
 manned, the Mormons to get aboard, and sailed for Illinois, 
 where they landed and founded the town of Nauvoo, situated 
 in a fertile, fruit-growing district — ' 'fertility" being the 
 
ON THE WARPATH 223 
 
 watchword of the faith. Here in 1840 he was chosen president 
 of the apostles. 
 
 For six years Brigham and his followers built up their 
 colony, but their brand of morals was a little too raw for the 
 surrounding natives, who told them to walk out or they would 
 kick them out. So the Mormons went, leaving their Temple, 
 which became an interesting pile of ruins, to the visitor. 
 
 Parleying with Parley Pratt, he starred in the publication 
 known as the ''Millennial Star" that shot out its silver ray 
 sentiment into thousands of sentimental souls. Brigham Young 
 intended to hitch his wagon or ox-cart to a star, and when 
 Smith was called from earth to get what was coming to him 
 yonder he planned to become the head of the Mormon church, 
 and won the position by giving his spiritual opponent, Sidney 
 Rigdon, an upper-cut that knocked him down and counted him 
 out. 
 
 Westward the star of empire had been leading, and when 
 Young was told by his Nauvoo neighbors to ''go west" he 
 went, standing not on the order of his going, and headed his 
 emigrant train to the valley of the great Salt Lake. 
 
 In July, 1847, he founded Salt Lake City, and two years 
 later organized the state of Deseret. Young was his name 
 and nature. He pushed ahead, and by formal choice was elect- 
 ed first president of the church. Working the old game of 
 church and state, politics and religion, he was appointed the 
 governor of Utah, and the Mormons of Utah have been in 
 state and national government ever since, from Young to 
 Smoot. The name Deseret was discarded, but not the nature 
 of the colony Brigham Young planted there. 
 
 Things prospered, but became monotonous. Brigham 
 Young, like Alexander, sighed for new worlds to conquer, 
 worlds of feminine heart to love and rule. So, one morning in 
 1852, after a lonely night's restless sleep, he called his faithful 
 followers around him and told them he had some sad news 
 from heaven to tell them, namely, that he had received a 
 wireless from above, a plain revelation on "celestial mar- 
 riage," or polygamy, or "plural wives" — such a revelation 
 as had been given to his friend. Smith, in 1843. Said Smith 
 was not present to defend himself. As dead, he could not 
 
224 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 be summoned from a higher to a lower court, but Mrs. Smith, 
 the widow, and her sons testified that it was a dirty lie ; that 
 the husband and father was devout and decent and had all 
 he could do and wanted to do to care for the one wife and 
 children by her. At once there was an uproar and a division. 
 The church split wide open as Guatemala after the earthquake, 
 and one of Smith's sons headed a number of seceders. 
 
 According to true history the course of Mormon love 
 never did run very smooth. About this time Brigham doubled 
 up one fist in a threatening attitude against the U. S., placed 
 his fingers disrespectfully to his nose, and growing bad and 
 bold in 1856 formed a mob which jimmied and jammed its way 
 into the U. S. District court room and told his honor the judge 
 to adjourn and sit elsewhere. 
 
 Brigham Young, like a good heathen, was a law to him- 
 self, made a Sinai of his Wasatch mountains and legislated 
 his own shalls and shall nots. He and his grew Caesar-great 
 on the fat beef they fed on, became impudent, arrogant and 
 high-handed, until President Buchanan appointed Alfred Cum- 
 mings governor of Utah, and in 1857 dispatched a force of 
 2500 troops under Gen. J. S. Johnston to bring Brigham 
 Young to terms of submission and order. Naturally Brigham 
 and his followers were up in arms and wanted to fight, but he 
 knew he was wrong, that he didn't even have the might of a 
 force to make right what was wrong, so he gave in and gave 
 up, laid down his arms and received the government 's pardon. 
 
 Brigham believed in educating his children. Because they 
 were so many and noisy in his homes, he founded many 
 schools and the University of Deseret. As there were many 
 mouths to be fed, he became active in promoting agriculture. 
 Anxious to have rapid transit to visit darling wife number 
 one, or seven of his seventeen varieties, or to get away from 
 the jealous hate of the other sixteen, he was active in the 
 construction of the Utah Central and other railways. 
 
 In the building of the famous Mormon Temple he was the 
 prime mover to collect the money and the material. Many 
 are the widely different opinions heaven-high and hell-deep 
 of Brigham Young, yet without doubt all must crown him 
 with the laurel of this compliment and tribute, that he squared 
 
ON THE WARPATH 225 
 
 his creed and his conduct, his faith and his works, that he 
 was a good divine who followed his own instruction, that 
 what he preached Sunday he practised Monday, that he 
 preached polygamy and practised it. We have a known record 
 of his seventeen widows and forty-two children — a conserva- 
 tive estimate — only God knows how many more there were on 
 the side of each. Poor man! No, he died rich August 29th, 
 1877, at the ripe age of 76, leaving between two and three mil- 
 lions of cold cash to warm the hearts of his family and fol- 
 lowers. If by any chance he is in heaven today he must 
 feel lonesome there, for we are told they neither marry there 
 nor are given in marriage. 
 
 MOUNTAIN MEADOW MASSACRE 
 
 |F the reader's taste for quiet reading in literature 
 has been blunted or staled by the daily press re- 
 ports of German Hun atrocities, I can play the part of 
 the Hamlet ghost and tell a tale of Mormon mur- 
 der that will harrow his soul and freeze his young blood. 
 
 In the year 1857 a party of 170 emigrants, well-to-do and 
 anxious to better their condition, started from Arkansas and 
 Missouri for California far across the mountains. There was 
 no Pullman for them, but a train of ox-wagons or prairie 
 schooners. The way was long, hot and dusty, a savage climate 
 by day, savage wolves by night, and fatigue and hunger all 
 the time for the men as well as the women and children. The 
 supplies soon ran low and when the emigrants reached Utah 
 they attempted to get food just like other emigrant trav- 
 ellers, but they were denied. Why? Because of no money, 
 because they were not needy? No, because Brigham Young 
 told his Mormon followers that he would sentence them to 
 death if they gave food, clothing, medicine or any help to 
 these needy emigrants. And why this cruel order? Because 
 Brigham Young was angry, since a furious husband in 
 Arkansas had killed Elder Pratt of the Mormon Church who 
 had stolen his wife, taken her to Utah and Mormonized her. 
 Faint and yet pursuing they came to the famous, infamous 
 
226 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 place, Mountain Meadow. It was here the red-handed Indians 
 
 savagely attacked them, but they barricaded themselves, 
 
 fought and were safe. Then like the Assyrian wolf that 
 
 came down on the fold, the Mormon militia attacked them, 
 
 but love for wife and child nerved the emigrant to repel 
 
 them. Self-made prisoners, they needed water from the spring 
 
 just outside their stockade. One day they dressed two of 
 
 their little girls in white and sent them for water believing 
 
 they would be safe. But these dear little things had gone 
 
 but a few steps when there was a flash, a roar from the 
 Mormon militia and the white dresses and the pale faces 
 were all splashed with blood and they sank never to rise. 
 Then the emigrants made the sign of distress, sent a petition 
 to the Mormons signed by the Odd Fellows and the Masons 
 to brother Mormon members of their particular lodge. One 
 venerable Methodist raised his prayerful voice and hands in 
 blessing over the heads of three emigrant men who bravely 
 volunteered to go and present the petition for relief, but they 
 too were shot down just like dogs. Pitying God, was there 
 no help! Age-long hours passed, heads and hearts were 
 aching and breaking, when one day some Mormon wagons 
 approached the stockade, bearing a white flag of truce and 
 declaring that if the emigrants would only surrender and lay 
 down their arms, they might walk out unharmed and be at 
 perfect liberty. 
 
 First came the men, then the women and the children. 
 They gladly marched out of the barricade, when at a signal 
 the old and the young, the men and the women, the parents 
 and the children were murdered by the Mormon militia with 
 guns and knives. All were butchered but a few children 
 thought to be too young to tell the awful story. The emigrant 
 women who were too old or too weak to walk, were dragged 
 out to where their dead were, were stripped naked of their 
 clothing, shot dead and piled up in heaps. Then the mur- 
 derous Mormons took the emigrant's jewelry, clothing, stock 
 and wagons to the amount of over $300,000, and went home 
 to read their Mormon Bible and praise their gods Brigham 
 Young and Joe Smith for their great victory. 
 
ON THE WAHPATH 227 
 
 This is history. After 15 years, when John D. Lee the 
 Mormon Bishop was on trial in court, he testified that in this 
 massacre of the emigrants he was only acting on orders from 
 headquarters, and that Brigham Young had given orders 
 how the property of the murdered was to be distributed. It 
 is said that years later when Brigham Young visited the 
 scene of the murder and learned that the U. S. Government 
 officers had gathered up the bones of the murdered emigrants, 
 buried them and placed a head board over the big grave 
 with the inscription, **Vengance is mine; I will repay saith 
 the Lord," he gave orders to have it torn down. What devil 
 more damned in evils! To see this spot and recall its blood 
 makes one think in the words of David's imprecatory Psalms, 
 or repeat Milton's sonnet, ** Avenge, Lord, thy slaughtered 
 saints. 
 
 If 
 
 BONES 
 
 T Salt Lake City we called on some of the first 
 settlers and citizens of Utah. They resided in the 
 Deseret Museum in the Cliff-Dweller section. These 
 mummies were brown and black. From their 
 cramped position with their heads on their knees, their long 
 arms wrapped around their fleshless shins, one would have 
 thought they had slept and died in a high cliff bed that was 
 no larger or more comfortable than an upper in a Pullman. 
 Scattered among the cliff-dwelling fabrics, weapons, baskets, 
 pottery, ornaments and implements that had been buried with 
 the bodies, were rows of sweetly smiling skulls and heaps 
 of yellow bones. 
 
 My earliest recollection of bones is when I went to the 
 butcher shop; when I played the game of ** shinny", a kind 
 of hockey, and was struck on the shins; when I took a pair 
 of rib-roast bones, scraped and polished them like clapper 
 bones and rattled them like the end man in the minstrel 
 show; when I studied anatomy at school, learned what my 
 bones were made of and found they were principally used 
 as a kind of frame or rack on which to hang my flesh. 
 
228 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 Later, on the street, I learned other meanings of the word 
 *'bone." To *'bone" a man meant to hold a man up and beg 
 for something; to ''pick a bone" was to engage in a fight of 
 words; to ''make no bones" of a thing was to go the limit 
 with no scrupple. "Bones" might mean silver dollars, and 
 when a boy or girl was said to be a "bag of bones" it was 
 another way of saying they were mostly skin and skeleton. 
 
 In literature I read Byron's lines to a "Skull" which he 
 used as a wine-cup, "Redeemed from worms and wasting 
 clay"; Baudelaire's, "Dance of Death", where the tall skele- 
 ton smiled with its thirty-two white teeth and called the 
 living dancers "musk-scented skeletons"; Keat's verse of the 
 ship made of dead men's bones, a phantom gibbet for a mast, 
 shrouds for sails, groans for breezes, and the cordage, "up- 
 rootings from skull of bald Medusa." Sir Thomas Browne 
 philosophized on bones in his "Urn Burial", and Blair, in 
 "The Grave", paints the glowing horrors of the tomb, "The 
 appointed place of rendezvous where all travellers meet." 
 
 In travel I have often said what Hamlet did when he 
 picked up the skull of his friend, "Alas! poor Yorick." In 
 the catacomb chapel of Malta I have seen the skulls and bones 
 of 2000 crusaders; wandered through the catacombs of Rome 
 with its remains of Christian dead; gazed at the bones of 
 the "eleven thousand virgins" in the church of St. Ursula at 
 Cologne; lunched in the "Cafe of Death" at Paris where 
 I had a coffin for a table and a skull for a cup; stared at 
 Pizzarro's bones at Lima, Peru; tramped on the mosaic pave- 
 ment of Chilean bones at Callao ; stumbled over bones of 
 priests who had been hung in a church crypt in Guatemala; 
 and stood with reverence at Stratford at Shakespeare's grave 
 which bears the inscription. 
 
 <( 
 
 Blest be the man that spares these stones, 
 And curst be he that moves my bones." 
 
 Some people spend most of their time and money when 
 alive for the burial and care of the bones when dead. Souls 
 dead in sin worship the bones of some reputed saint, and 
 enthusiastic lovers of poets and patriots make Meccas of ceme- 
 
ON THE WARPATH 229 
 
 teries and cast wreaths of flowers on the graves of the heroes 
 beneath, whose bones have returned to their original dust. 
 
 The Bible has much to say of "bones" in the Old and 
 New Testament, and never with more imagery or emphasis 
 than when Ezekiel prophesied. He lived nearly 600 years be- 
 fore Christ, when Nebuchadnezzar ruled in Babylon, Pharoah 
 Hophra swayed Egypt, the ''Seven Wise Men" flourished in 
 Greece, Tarquinius Priscus haughtily stalked through Rome, 
 Solon made laws at Athens, Sappho wrote her poems of pas- 
 sion, Aesop his fables and Pythagoras his philosophy. 
 
 Ezekiel was the Dante of the Bible. His vision of ** bones" 
 in the valley was as impressive and symbolic as his parables 
 of the wheel within wheels, the cherubim, watchman, moun- 
 tains, temple, cedar and eagle, and death of his wife. 
 
 Judah had forsaken Jehovah and Jehovah forsook Judah 
 and gave her over to her enemies. The Jews were captive and 
 in exile and paying the penalty of their willful wrong doing. 
 Nothing could save them but a ''new heart" and life — the 
 only salvation of individual or national life today. 
 
 The valley of dead, dry bones Ezekiel saw in vision sym- 
 bolized the dead Hebrew nation. Israel was sordid and selfish. 
 With her loss of religion, its ideals and call to duty, all high 
 incentive and endeavor in life, liberty and loyalty, had van- 
 ished. "And He said unto me, 'Son of man, can these bones 
 liver And I answered, '0, Lord God, thou knowest.' " 
 
 This world is a bone yard and illustrates the prophet's 
 vision of the long ago. Bones are here, there and everywhere, 
 not only of the dead and unburied on European battle-fields, 
 but in America. Here we find ossified hearts in business, 
 boneheads in education, skeletons in home closets, corpses 
 gibbering and gesticulating in the pulpits, "stiffs" stretched 
 out in the pews, numskulls on the way to political office, 
 and "dead ones" already in who haven't sense enough to 
 get out and get buried. 
 
 Ezekiel, in his vision, was called to prophesy to the dead 
 bones that they would live ; that flesh, sinews and skin would 
 cover them, that breath would come from the "four winds" 
 and God would put his spirit in them; and that they would 
 live and return from exile and find place in their own land. 
 
230 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 Don't be a dead one. Physically, our bodies are made up 
 from substances of earth, air and water. Mentally, the wis- 
 dom of the ages has come into our minds. Spiritually, the 
 power of a mother's Bible and father's God has come into 
 our souls. It is for us to look to Ezekiel's God who created 
 us and can bring us to newness of life as individuals and 
 a nation. 
 
 NO MAN'S LAND 
 
 WOMEN in Utah have the men's right to vote. I was 
 not surprised at the station to see a devoted female 
 in blue overalls, mopping the floors and her brow 
 and cleaning and polishing the cuspidors until they 
 outshone the angel Moroni balancing himself on the Temple 
 top and blowing his inspiring blast. 
 
 We left Salt Lake in the afternoon, saw the saline sea 
 shining like molten silver in the sun, and the clouds of smoke 
 from the chimneys of the Bingham Copper Camp Smelter, the 
 greatest in the world, the smoke swirling and moving as if it 
 contained the Genii of power and wealth. 
 
 Now we plunge through native rock, buffalo grass, sage 
 bush, mints of mineral, pictures of color, sculpture galleries 
 of stone and deserts irrigated into oases. We careen through 
 a chaos of Titanic rocks that look like those Milton's angel 
 Michael threw at Satan. Echo Canyon echoed the toot-toot 
 of our train. In fable. Echo haunts quiet vales and flowery 
 nooks — she is out of place in this wild canyon with its Spirit 
 of thunder tone. The wind blew a blast through Bugle 
 Canyon that set the echoes flying. Rocks loomed right and 
 left of us, threatening to fall and we hoped Atlas would 
 not shrug his shoulders and so tilt the earth as to topple 
 these boulders on our train. Castle Rock stood defiant, not 
 yet succumbed to the legion attack of the centuries. Then we 
 passed Cathedral Rock which the great Architect had founded 
 and fashioned as a shrine where the enthusiastic, nature- 
 loving traveler might worship. Pulpit Rock rose 100 feet 
 high, a fitting place for another sermon on the Mount by 
 
ON THE WARPATH 231 
 
 that Prince of Preachers who for substance, style, sweetness, 
 sublimity and spirituality, spake never as man. We were in 
 'Frisco the day the first stone ship was launched — ^here we 
 saw a stone ship 600 feet high launched in the air and resting 
 like an adamantine Ark on this Utah Ararat. The Romans 
 catapaulted stones against their enemies — ^here loomed the 500 
 foot precipice whence the Mormons had planned to roll the 
 rocks over and down on the heads of the U. S. troops, but 
 were foiled because the soldiers halted this side of the stage 
 road. 
 
 The scenery was gorgeous, at times our train was swal- 
 lowed in some tunnel and then disgorged. Here was a giant 
 studio where some Titan Angelo or Rodin had sculptured 
 and strewn around many colossal figures and torsos. One's 
 imagination and fancy, acting as critics, found much to 
 admire. Here Shelley could write another **Alastor", spirit 
 of solitude. It must be among these mountains that the Olym- 
 pian gods were banished, for it is a place fit only for immor- 
 tals. Human beings seem frightfully out of place, and I would 
 not have been surprised to read a sign on one of the rocks, 
 ** Notice to Mortals — No Trespassing Here." 
 
 Night came and blotted out with inky darkness all this 
 grandeur, tired nature invited to sleep, sleep at a time and 
 place when we should have had a hundred open eyes. Peter 
 slept on the Mount of Transfiguration when more than any 
 other time in his life he should have been wide awake. Night 
 and day the same, I have seen travelers with closed eyes, and 
 open mouths yawning like the caverns the train was passing 
 through, or with their face buried in a paper or book reading 
 some bad or brainless stufP, shutting out all the sublime 
 scenery they were passing through. This scenery is all too 
 big and grand to be seen but once or twice. I envy the 
 engineer and trainmen who pass through here year after year. 
 It is a melancholy reflection on humanity that sublime moun- 
 tain scenery will put the traveler to sleep hours earlier than 
 if he were in a city or on a plain. Whether it be the Alps, 
 Andes, Himalayas or Rockies, people are oppressed, go to bed 
 early and get up late. I know this for I am an illustration 
 of the fact. 
 
232 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 BILL NYE'S TERRITORY 
 
 AT the Cheyenne station lunch counter a Gertrude of 
 Wyoming, not the poet Campbell's, served us with 
 some hot Campbell's soup. This and some car grease 
 from the tracks made an impression in and on us so 
 that our stomach was hot and our speech fiery. Cheyenne 
 is 6000 feet high and has the reputation of some high old 
 times. It is the center of the cattle country and bears the 
 name of the ** Magic City.'' I knew it was a wild west town 
 because as we pulled out we saw the tents of a wild west 
 show and its gilded chariots. Cheyenne is the terminus for 
 the railroads and the hang-out for ticket and cow punchers. 
 Bill Nye put Cheyenne on the map and gave it a place in 
 *'The Sun" with his bright newspaper remarks. However, 
 the inhabitants here looked sad — was it because of his un- 
 appreciated humor, or the come-back of what he wrote for the 
 Laramie Wyoming Boomerang? Is it possible that Bill received 
 his dry humor from this parched, dusty plain? His humor 
 was farcical and he doubtless received much of his breeziness 
 from this lively town. His grins were broad as the plains 
 round about and one is compelled to laugh when he does no 
 more than recall the titles of his ''The Forty Liars," ''Bailed 
 Hay," "Comic History of the U. S." and "Bill Nye's Thinks." 
 
 MY "WILD WEST" ALPHABET 
 
 Apache Trail, Autos, Aeroplanes 
 
 Beaches, Bathers, Boulevards 
 
 Climate, Canyons, Cactus, Cafeterias, Catalina, Chinks 
 
 Deserts, Dancing, Drink, Dress 
 
 Enterprise, Expense 
 
 Fruits, Flowers, Forests, Farming, Fishing 
 
 Gold, Gambling, Gardens, Gladness 
 
 Horse Races, Hunting, Hospitality 
 
 Indian Schools, Industry, I. W. W.'s, Invalids 
 
 Japs, Jingos, Journalism 
 
 Kinemas, Knitting, Knaves 
 
ON THE WARPATH 233 
 
 Love, Liberty, Luxuries, Land-sharks, Lumber, Lakes 
 
 Mountains, Missions, Murderous Mexicans, Mining 
 
 New Orleans, Naval Stations 
 
 Ocean, Orange Carnival, Oregon, Oil 
 
 Prehistoric Cliff -Dwellings, Petrified Forests 
 
 Quacks, Quakes 
 
 Roosevelt Dam, Resorts, Ranches, Rivers, Religions 
 
 Ship-building, Strikes, Sailors, Soldiers 
 
 Tourists, Texas Border Troubles 
 
 Utah Mormons 
 
 Valleys, Vanity, Vice, Virtue 
 
 Whale-fishing, Woman-suffrage 
 
 'Xploiters, 'Xaggeration 
 
 Yellowstone, Yosemite, Yachting, Yuma 
 
 Zeal, Zephyrs 
 
 HOT AIR 
 
 [N Nebraska we found schools planted along the road 
 like corn, the state devoting itself to culture and agri- 
 culture. Are the cattle on these rolling plains rolling 
 stock? There are bad lands and sand hills, but good 
 sugar beets are raised. For one day a dirt-blizzard blew giving 
 samples of the soil. I imagined Nebraska's favorite and elo- 
 quent son, Bryan, was making dry speeches for the state. 
 
 As we ploughed through fertile Iowa I recalled the time 
 when, as a young man, I served three years in the penitentiary 
 town of Anamosa, as pastor of the Baptist church, and learned 
 to preach by practising on the people. Next came Illinois, 
 famous for its prairies, professors, patriots, politics, pigs, and 
 profiteers, and we stepped out into the windy, wealthy, wicked 
 and only Chicago. There was time to visit the Sunday Taber- 
 nacle, where ^' Billy'* picked up his religious baseball bat and 
 made a smashing hit that scored a home-run for good and 
 God ; and the big Municipal Pier, that graft monument where 
 the yellow Michigan waves dashed over the breakwater 
 as if to wash out traces of crookedness. Our globe-trotting 
 girl friends, Theiss and Poisal, invited us to rest and refresh- 
 
234 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 ment in Peacock Alley, where food, fashion and femininity were 
 garnished and garbed in latest style. Then it was Good-night 
 Chicago and Good-morning Minneapolis. 
 
 INDICTED 
 
 ARRIVED in ample time to be indicted for sending 
 an "obscene" book, "The Devil in Mexico," through 
 the mails. 
 
 The Federal Grand Jury met April 2, 1918, and was 
 dismissed on the following Monday, April 8th, late in the af- 
 ternoon. From a conversation I later had with one of the 
 jurymen, I learned that no bill had been brought in Saturday 
 night (April 6th) and that the matter was considered closed. 
 However, on Monday, the day the jury was dismissed, U. S. 
 District Attorney Alfred Jacques reopened the case, libellously 
 attacked my book by saying it was "obscene," and an indict- 
 ment was brought against me. The following day I was ar- 
 raigned. In connection with this it may be well to know that 
 John Lind had just arrived from Washington the last of the 
 week (April 5th or 6th), and was closeted with U. S. District 
 Attorney Alfred Jacques, in his (Lind's) office the day before 
 my arraignment. Was this coincidence or collusion? 
 
 A JAUNDICED JURY 
 
 
 YOU might as well take the verdict of a blind man on a 
 picture and of a deaf man on a symphony, as the 
 judgment of any man or body of men, who pass sen- 
 tence on my "Devil in Mexico," who have never trav- 
 eled abroad; are not students of art or literature; and are 
 prejudiced against me because of my Protestant faith and Re- 
 publican politics. 
 
 The immortal Elbert Hubbard, who went down on the 
 Lusitania, was my associate pastor in the People's Church. 
 He gave this conservative estimate and definition of a jury — 
 
ON THE WARPATH 235 
 
 1. The stupidity of one brain multiplied by twelve. 
 
 2. A collection of sedentary owls. 
 
 3. The humble apology of Civilization to savagery, e. g., 
 
 ''What ever exists may be touched, but a jury is an 
 exception to this universal law — it must be reached.'* 
 
 The word "jury" is related to the Latin word ''jurare" 
 which means to swear, and many people who have had any- 
 thing to do with a jury feel like swearing. From the verdicts 
 of some juries in court, one is led to believe it is derived from 
 the word ''injurious." 
 
 What is a jury? Let Mark Twain answer in words which 
 apply to many juries whether Petit, Grand or Federal: "Al- 
 fred the Great, when he invented trial by jury, and knew that 
 he had admirably framed it to secure justice in his age of the 
 world, was not aware that in the nineteenth century the condi- 
 tion of things would be so entirely changed that unless he rose 
 from the grave and altered the jury plan to meet the emer- 
 gency, it would prove the most ingenious and infallible agency 
 for defeating justice that human wisdom could contrive. For 
 how could he imagine that we simpletons would go on using 
 his jury plan after circumstances had stripped it of its use- 
 fulness, any more than he could imagine that we would use 
 his candle-clock after we had invented chronometers? In his 
 day news could not travel fast, and hence he could easily 
 find a jury of honest, intelligent men who had not heard of 
 the case they were called to try — but in our day of telegraphs 
 and newspapers his plan compels us to swear in juries com- 
 posed of fools and rascals, because the system rigidly excludes 
 honest men and men of brains. The jury system puts a ban on 
 intelligence and honesty and a premium upon ignorance, stu- 
 pidity and perjury. Why could not the jury law be so altered 
 as to give men of brains and honesty an equal chance with fools 
 and miscreants?" 
 
 The word "verdict" means to speak the truth, but many 
 lying juries have brought in jingo judgments and false find- 
 ings. Later centuries have appealed for a verdict and the 
 judgment has been reversed. Aristides is no longer ostracized, 
 but welcomed as "just"; Socrates was poisoned for "impiety," 
 but his philosophy still lives ; Christ from the beginning of his 
 
236 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 trial, was not regarded as innocent but guilty and was cruci- 
 fied, yet heaven's court has reversed an earthly court's de- 
 cision and made Him the centre of the world's thought and 
 hope. 
 
 PUTRID POLITICS 
 
 DEMOCRATIC politics objected to my Mexico book, 
 blinded justice and tipped the scales in the Adminis- 
 tration's favor with false accusation. "Honest John" 
 Lind, whose patron saint must be "honest lago", did 
 not like to have his political mask torn off. A truthful his- 
 torian cannot tell the story of Christianity without referring 
 to Judas ; or of the War of the Revolution without mentioning 
 Benedict Arnold; or of the Rebellion and not allude to Jeffer- 
 son Davis. How could I honestly write my "Devil in Mexico" 
 and not refer to John Lind? 
 
 The Devil did a big day's work when he made some poli- 
 ticians with their Protean shape and chameleon color. Politics 
 is largely a question of ins and outs, a puppet show with hands 
 behind pulling the wires. How often we find incompetent, il- 
 literate and iniquitous men put in office to represent parties of 
 which it may be said each one is worse than the other. 
 
 Politicians come and go, are elected or defeated, but God 
 remains. Men move their pawns, castles and knights on his- 
 ory's chess board and push them off, but the King of Kings 
 rules. Providence "rules man's wrath and restrains its re- 
 mainder." Back of Babylon, Assyria, Egypt, Greece and 
 Rome — back of Alexander, Caesar and Napoleon — back of 
 Marathon, Waterloo, Bunker Hill, and Gettysburg, Marne and 
 Verdun are the divine deliberations and decrees of Jehovah. 
 
 The most pernicious proverb in politics is, "The voice of 
 the people is the voice of God." Its truth was denied by 
 heathen Cicero, who said, "It is most absurb to suppose that 
 all the things are just which are found in the enactments and 
 institutions of a state." 
 
 When Israel demanded a king to rule over them, it not only 
 displeased the prophet Samuel, but the Lord. Saul became 
 
ON THE WARPATH 237 
 
 king and with his rule brought head, back and heart ache. It 
 had been well for Irsael if the minority and not the majority 
 had ruled. No number of wrong-headed and vile-hearted men 
 ever made anything or anybody right. 
 
 It is an accepted maxim that the will of the majority must 
 be accepted and maintained, but the sentiment is often dan- 
 gerous and destructive. If the majority is right, very good — 
 if it is wrong, very bad. The great majority of men in this 
 world are against God in their aims and lives and that means 
 that the majority are against purity, truth, righteousness and 
 godliness. The best and most religious work has been done by 
 minorities and martyrs who believed that one with God was 
 a majority. According to the enthusiasm of the hour it is 
 easy to get a majority for anybody or anything. The Roman 
 emperor secured a majority, in the Roman Senate, that Christ 
 and not Jupiter should be the god of the Romans, but the 
 vote was a hollow mockery. The religion of the pure, peaceful 
 and lowly Nazarene never became the religion of the Roman 
 Empire. 
 
 What we need today in business, law, politics and theology 
 is that every man should have a conviction and the courage 
 to back it, and as God helps him, to stand for it, work for it, 
 vote for it, fight for it, even if he stands alone. It is easy to 
 go with the majority down stream, it is hard to row against it 
 alone. 
 
 "OBSCENE" CLASSICS 
 
 THE Federal Grand Jury that indicted me for sending 
 through the mail a ''filthy, obscene, lascivious, inde- 
 cent and lewd" book, "The Devil in Mexico," should 
 now get busy and indict the National Geographic 
 Magazine, Travel Magazine and publishers of art gallery cata- 
 logues for their pictures ; newspapers, fiction and fashion peri- 
 odicals for their stories and advertisements; and publishers 
 of Sexology books for their contents. These censors should 
 turn their attention now to the works of the following *' inde- 
 cent" writers which are not only sent through the mails, but 
 
238 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 are found in all **good" public and private libraries and are 
 the mental and moral food devoured in school and college : 
 
 Aristotle, Aeschylus, Aristophanes, Anacreon, Apuleius, Arios- 
 to, Addison, Arabian Nights. 
 
 Bible, Balzac, Buffon, Baudelaire, Bancroft, Bion, Boccaccio, 
 Butler, Burton, Bacon, Bunyan, Boileau, Beaumont, Bul- 
 wer, Burns, Byron. 
 
 Cervantes, Catullus, Caesar, Cicero, Chaucer, Calderon, 
 Churchill, Chesterfield, Congreve. 
 
 Dante, Dekker, Dryden, Defoe, Donne, Diderot, Daudet, Du- 
 mas, Darwin, Dickens. 
 
 Euripides, Epicurus, Evelyn. 
 
 Fielding, Fletcher, Ford, Farquhar, Flaubert. 
 
 Goethe, Gibbon, Gay, Greene, Goldsmith, Gautier. 
 
 Homer, Herodotus, Horace, Herrick, Heyvs^ood, Hugo, Heine, 
 Hardy. 
 
 Ibsen. 
 
 Juvenal, Jonson. 
 
 Keats, Kock, Kyd, Kipling. 
 
 Lucian, Livy, Lucretius, La Fontaine, La Bruyere, La Roche- 
 foucauld, Le Sage, Landor, Lamb, Luther. 
 
 Milton, Martial, Montaigne, Montesquieu, Machiavelli, Moliere, 
 Marlowe, Middleton, Moore, Massinger, Musset, More, 
 Maupassant, Merimee. 
 
 Nash, Nye. 
 
 Ovid, Otway. 
 
 Plato, Plutarch, Petronius, Propertius, Persius, Plautus, Pe- 
 trarch, Peele, Pope, Pepys, Prior, Prescott. 
 
 Quarles. 
 
 Rabelais, Rochester, Rousseau, Richter, Rossetti. 
 
 Shakespeare, Socrates, Simonides, Sophocles, Sappho, Seneca, 
 Suetonius, Sallust, Scarron, Skelton, Savage, Sue, Sand, 
 Sedley, Shadwell, Shirley, Smollett, Sheridan, Steele, 
 Sterne, Swedenborg, Saxe, Schopenhauer, Shelley, Swift, 
 Swinburne, Shaw. 
 
 Tacitus, Theocritus, Tibullus, Terence, Thucydides, Tourneur, 
 Taine, Taylor, Tolstoi, Thackeray, Twain. 
 
 Urquhart, Udall. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 239 
 
 Virgil, Villon, Voltaire, Vanbrugh, Verlaine. 
 
 Webster, Wycherley, Wilde, Whitman. 
 
 Xenophon. 
 
 Young. 
 
 Zola. 
 
 BIGOTED CENSORS 
 
 ^ 
 
 LONG before you and I were born there were persecut- 
 ing senseless censors. Whenever they found a book 
 that criticized government or religion or they dis- 
 agreed with the author, they threw his books into 
 the fire and sometimes the author met the same warm recep- 
 tion. 
 
 Tacitus tells us that the history of Crementius Cordus was 
 condemned by the Roman Senate, to flatter Tiberius, because 
 it designated Caius Cassius as the last of the Romans. Euse- 
 bius informs us how Diocletian caused copies of the Scriptures 
 to be burned. The early Christian church showed the intoler- 
 ance of the heathen in preventing or destroying books alleged 
 to be injurious to the faith. In the time of the Reformation, 
 when the people demanded books, the civil authorities exerted 
 the severest censorship until later the demand for freedom 
 brought the liberty of the press. 
 
 The repression of free discussion was held to be such a 
 necessary part of government that even Sir Thomas More in 
 his Utopia makes it punishable with death for a private indi- 
 vidual to criticize the ruling power. Milton protested against 
 an ordinance of the Star Chamber and in 1643 declared, ''Give 
 me liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to 
 conscience above all other liberties.'* The same censor spirit 
 that burned Pascal's ''Provinciales" prevented the represen- 
 tation of Moliere's *'Tartuffe" in public. 
 
 The books of Protagoras were burned and he was banished 
 by the judges of the Areopagus for a discourse begun by de- 
 claring that he did not know ''whether there were gods, or 
 whether not." The early church demanded the right to hold 
 the keys of the press as well as Paradise so that it might burn 
 
240 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 or prohibit any books it disliked. In Milton's day there were 
 literary obstetricians to kill a new book at birth or abortion it 
 before it saw the light. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth essayed some literary dictatorship. In- 
 stead of a blue pencil she used the sword. Disliking one author 
 and his publisher, she had their right hands cut off. Falling 
 out with another, she had him hanged. 
 
 The invention of printing was hailed as the evangel of 
 liberty, but those who hated both immediately placed a guard 
 to watch the author and the children of his brain. 
 
 Rome threatened the readers of Wickliffe, Huss and Luther 
 with death. Books were banned and authors burnt. In- 
 dividual disapproval of a book found official prohibition in the 
 Council of Trent. Then followed the inquisitors of men and 
 books, the Index and Expurgatory Index of what people should 
 or should not read. In Spain and Portugal it was necessary 
 for a book to pass through six or seven courts before it could 
 be published. Nani's '^History of Venice" was permitted to 
 see print because it said nothing against princes who were 
 supposed then to be immaculate. Henry VIII was a warm 
 baby, but it would seem the atmosphere was very chilly at 
 times for many books were burned. In Edward's day Roman 
 Catholic works were burned, and Mary is said to have had 
 pyramids of Protestant volumes to fire. In the time of Eliza- 
 beth political pamphlets made good fuel for the flames. 
 
 Giles Fletcher was a Russian ambassador who was for- 
 tunate enough to bring his head back on his shoulders from 
 the land of the Czar. He wrote a book entitled, *'The Rus- 
 sian Commonwealth," describing the outrage and tyranny of 
 the country, but Queen Elizabeth prohibited the publishing of 
 the work. 
 
 Milton called Knox *'the reformer of a kingdom", yet few 
 know what hard knocks Knox got from the perfunctory li- 
 censers of his day. 
 
 The profane censor knife was applied by the Republicans to 
 Milton's ''History of England," cutting out a bold picture 
 which he had introduced of the Long Parliament and Assembly 
 of Divines. The monarchical censors expunged those passages 
 in which Milton had portrayed the pride, the cunning and su- 
 
ON THE WARPATH 241 
 
 perstition of the Saxon monks, because they thought they 
 applied to Charles II and the bishops. "Paradise Lost" bare- 
 ly escaped these literary emasculators for the simile of Satan, 
 compared to the rising sun, was supposed to contain treason- 
 able illusion. 
 
 The censor has always been most learned. In Austria a 
 work on Trigonometry was not allowed to be printed because 
 the critic supposed it referred to the Trinity. Another book 
 entitled, ''The Destruction of Insects," was barred because the 
 censor insisted the writer had secret allusions and designs on 
 the Jesuits. 
 
 Some writers, like Montesquieu, in order to avoid the cen- 
 sor, wrote with studied ambiguity and obscurity, and to evade 
 local critics, had their works printed in foreign countries. 
 
 The difference between man and animal is speech. The dif- 
 ference between democracy and monarchy is the liberty of 
 speech. When the liberty to say and print what you think, 
 which according to law human and divine you have a right to 
 think, by partisan individual censors and political postoffice 
 authorities is denied, we may adapt and apply the words of 
 Hume and say, ''The liberty of America is gone forever when 
 such attempts shall succeed." 
 
 Of the making of books there is no end, and there is no end 
 to the number of their destruction by those who hate the 
 writer or the contents. The Persians hated the religion of the 
 Egyptians and Phoenicians and destroyed their books. The 
 Romans burned the books of the Jews, Christians and the phil- 
 osophers; the Jews burned the books of the Christians and 
 Pagans, and the Christians burned the books of the Pagans 
 and Jews. Orthodox Christians showed their loyalty to God 
 by burning most of Origen's books. The Christians destroyed 
 the great library of Alexandria, and, to this day in bigoted 
 cities of Central and South America, the Bible is bonfired. In 
 the Middle Ages the monks frequently mutilated and inter- 
 polated many of the works of the ancients. They erased some 
 of the best Greek and Latin works from the vellum manuscript, 
 in order to write their own fool personal histories of some of 
 their saints. 
 
242 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 To drive out Lutheranism from Bohemia, the Jesuits con- 
 demned and destroyed all kinds of books, even of antiquity 
 and of their own history which the church disliked. 
 
 Two-faced, blockhead censors are always fools with or with- 
 out a book, and do not know that error, not truth, needs lawyers 
 and censors. They are not refiners and cannot separate gold 
 from dross. These critics never know that no book can be bad 
 if the conscience that wrote it is pure. 
 
 They belong to the family of Ignorance which has no race 
 suicide. Genealogically considered, what an engaging lot the 
 members are ! Ignorance begets Suspicion and Suspicion, Cre- 
 dulity; Credulity, Falsehood and Falsehood, Murmur; Mur- 
 mur begets Malice, and Malice, Impudence ; Impudence, Slan- 
 der, and Slander, Execration; Execration begets Bitterness; 
 Bitterness, Fury and Fury begets Mischief. 
 
 I am orthodox in my theology, but the more I think about 
 these concrete-domed, stony-hearted censors, the more I be- 
 lieve they are descended from the rocks Deucalion and Pyrrha 
 threw over their shoulders. 
 
 GAG-LAW 
 
 THE First Amendment to the Constitution of the United 
 States directs that, ''Congress shall make no law 
 abridging the freedom of speech or of the press." 
 It might be well for some men in government office 
 to read this guarantee of a writer's personal freedom. 
 
 Truth is to be told at all times no matter whom or what 
 it concerns. To be silent is to be cowardly, traitorous and 
 unpatriotic. What's right will stand — what's wrong will fall 
 as it should, and it is for you and for me to prop up or push 
 down. Milton echoed for all time, in his defense of the free- 
 dom of the press, ''Let truth and error grapple. Who ever 
 knew truth to be beaten in a fair fight?" 
 
 We have no kings — ^yet, in this Republic of America — ^there 
 can be no lese-majesty when one honestly and constructively 
 criticizes an Administration which in whole or part he has 
 helped elect, and supports with prayer and money, that it may 
 preserve this nation a Lincoln's ideal of government of, by 
 
ON THE WARPATH 243 
 
 and for the people. It is the spirit of Washington and Lincoln 
 
 to say, *'My country, right or wrong, and if wrong to make it 
 
 right." Since when was this nation turned into a Methodist 
 
 camp meeting when we, infatuated with its leaders, must shout, 
 
 **Amen, Glory to God" to everything they say or do, simply 
 because they say or do it, whether it is sensible, right, patriotic 
 or not? From the pine on the North to the palmetto on the 
 South, the rising sun in the East to its setting in the West, 
 this nation is bigger than any man or party of men who 
 seek to govern it. When they innocently or intentionally are 
 inefficient, and seek to censure or suppress honest patriotic 
 criticism because it is unpalatable, a citizen is warranted by 
 laws of God and man in having his say without being per- 
 secuted, slandered and thrown in jail for it. The government 
 does right to punish its known enemies — it does wrong not to 
 protect its unjustly suspected friends. 
 
 Nebuchadnezzar was an old king and fool, who not only 
 wanted people to submit to his rule, say '*y6s" to all he said, 
 but to fall down and worship a golden image that he set up 
 in the plain of Dura. If they failed to bow the knee that very 
 hour, they were to be cast into the midst of a fiery furnace. 
 There were a lot of people who fell for it. Who were they? 
 Only God knows. There were three men who defied him, 
 claiming the right to serve God according to their own con- 
 science, and to tell his royal Nibs they would not serve his 
 gods nor worship the golden image which he had set up. 
 These heroes have come down the centuries by name, Shad- 
 rach, Meshach and Abednego. They were thrown in the fiery 
 furnace but Jehovah rescued them. The king business is 
 done. The days of Nebuchadnezzar are over. Gold is too 
 valuable to be put in the form of an image, and any image 
 is too fool a thing for a man to bend the knee before. Every 
 four years in America some political idol is enthroned to the 
 music of the party cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery and 
 dulcimer, and we are expected to fall down and worship. We 
 don't have to — we had rather be right than be president, 
 even if we are cast in the fiery furnace of his wrath. 
 
 The ostrich lives in a fool's Paradise when it buries its 
 head in the sand. America is a paradise, but its citizens are 
 
244 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 no fools. We will not obey any man or party which tells ns 
 not to see anything it dislikes the looks of; not to hear any- 
 thing that disturbs its quiet ; not to believe or talk about any- 
 thing that does not flatter the powers that be. 
 
 Partisan Senator Overman broke an ominous silence by 
 striding forward in his pontifical political dress to remark, 
 ''Now is the time for all men to be true and to be silent about 
 these matters that we admit to be true.'' Is this man over 
 and plus or under and minus ? Let him not lay this flattering 
 philosophy of Middle Age gagging to his soul. Women will 
 talk, and men will talk, and both have a right to talk about 
 the men they elect to office and whose board bills they pay. 
 Speech, not silence, has been golden since we entered the war. 
 The wisdom which criticized the mistakes of our policy has 
 been justified by her children, as seen in the formation of a 
 superior war council, larger army, more ships and a move in 
 the aeroplane program. Silence is the watchword of the 
 tyrant, it is the atmosphere of the grave. What red-blooded 
 patriot will keep his mouth shut to save the face of a govern- 
 ment which tries to protect its misrepresentatives at Washing- 
 ton and so stab our soldier boys in the back in France? Mili- 
 taristic Prussian Kaiserism must be killed. We must help 
 win the war. Mistakes will be made but they must be seen, 
 criticized and eradicated, the men who made them must be 
 blacklisted, not whitewashed, the incompetent little fellows in 
 big positions must be whirled out of their swivel chair jobs, 
 whether A the Administration and B the government Baker 
 and C the Creel press administrator like the heathen, do 
 **rage," and ''imagine a vain thing." 
 
 If you have anything to say, say it, if not, keep still. The 
 apostles had convictions (some of them jail ones) and preached 
 and practised them. Interfering with the corrupt lives of the 
 people, they were commanded not to preach, but they 
 answered, "We ought to obey God rather than man/' and 
 the God they obeyed took care of them. 
 
 Dickens' Artful Dodger is neutral in society, religion and 
 politics. If he has a conviction he would rather sacrifice it 
 than be singular. In time of persecution his motto is, "Good 
 Lord, Good Devil." When asked to give a reason for his 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 245 
 
 belief, he shuts his lips for fear he may say something that 
 would cost him a dollar, a friend or a newspaper puff. 
 
 Better have a wrong conviction than none at all. It is 
 worse to be dumb than to stutter. Be yourself, choose to be 
 somebody and stand for something worth while. Don't be 
 buried until you die. Be hot or cold. Boil over or freeze up. 
 Avoid that indifferent *' lukewarm" condition which the Bible 
 declares God will spew out of his mouth. 
 
 The President told Congress to quit playing politics and 
 solemnly declared that politics was adjourned. It is a good 
 divine that follows his own instruction, and for presidents 
 and ministers to practise what they preach. What about the 
 active Democratic opposition to Republican Lenroot in Wis- 
 consin, and of Vice-President Marshall who at Indianapolis 
 urged the third term nomination of Mr. Wilson? What about 
 the attempted suppression of the political utterances of 
 Theodore Roosevelt through the mail? What patriotic 
 American isn't righteously mad when he sees that the brave 
 and brilliant Major General Leonard Wood, respected at 
 home and needed in France, is separated from the Division 
 of soldiers he has trained and sent back to Camp Funston. 
 It is all right to make a shelf out of wood and place some 
 heavy responsibilities on it, but it was all wrong to put Wood 
 on the shelf, this master of military matters, because of per- 
 sonal pique. Ghost of Mars! What a time to show political 
 grudge, military jealousy and spite ! 
 
 The unpardonable sin which Scripture solemnly declares 
 
 shall never be forgiven in this world or the world to come, 
 
 has been variously defined. One theory is that of attributing 
 
 the works of Christ to the Devil, another, that of rejecting the 
 
 influence of the Holy Spirit until man is left unaided to go 
 his way of destruction. I suggest a third theory — that the 
 unpardonable sin in this Administration is to tell the truth 
 about it. 
 
246 ON THE V/ARPATH 
 
 TRUTH, WHERE IS SHE? 
 
 WHERE can truth be found? Democritus says in a well. 
 Cynics place her in the moon or at the rainbow's 
 end. Some fable that like Astraea, the goddess of 
 justice, she left heaven to live with man on earth, 
 dwelt with him in the Golden Age, but when his heart became 
 stone, his brow brazen, and his tongue an iron bell-clapper to 
 ring out lies, she became weary of his iniquities and returned 
 to the skies. 
 
 Don't look for truth in diplomatic circles, in profiteering 
 politics, in a subsidized press, in dishonest law courts, in 
 hypocritical churches, in ulcerous high society, among venal, 
 vicious kings or in richly endowed colleges and universities^ 
 You will be more apt to find her in dungeons, jails, on scaf- 
 folds and gibbets, at the stake and whipping post, in the gar- 
 ret, in exile, in rags, filth and poverty, in gutters, in starvation 
 and under the lash. You will probably see her wearing 
 gyves, not bracelets; not hurrahed by the crowd but hooted 
 and hissed; and followed, not by flattering devotees, but 
 hunted by bloodhounds of tyranny. 
 
 Herodotus said the ancient Persians instructed their sons 
 in three things — to ride well, master the bow and speak the 
 truth. Was this last accomplishment the cause of Persia's 
 fall, so that today she is negligible among the nations? 
 
 The Turks had a custom of heating an iron and branding 
 a convicted liar on the forehead. It is well for cultured 
 Christian nations today that this practise is obsolete, for most 
 of mankind would be wearing wigs and caps to hide the 
 marks. 
 
 Voltaire wrote an essay on ** Printed Lies" and Swift on 
 ''The Art of Political Lying.'* These seem to be the two 
 favorite text books for the editors and politicians at Wash- 
 ington. 
 
 Pilate asked the question ''What is truth?" and didn't 
 wait for an answer. Many people today do not even ask it, 
 because they do not want it. The world follows falsehood 
 and the few disicples of truth are called fools and madmen. 
 Take tjae illusions and lies away from some heads and lives 
 and they would be very empty. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 247 
 
 The Bible bids us, "Buy the truth and sell it not." Bacon 
 says the inquiry of truth is the wooing of it ; the knowledge of 
 truth the presence of it; and the belief of truth the enjoying of 
 it. If you want friends, popularity, fame, wealth, position, 
 don't tell the truth. 
 
 We have heard of the Ananias Club, but never read of the 
 Tell the Truth Club. Is it because there are not enough peo- 
 ple to form one, or because all the eligible are dead? Heathen 
 Rome had a temple of truth and Augustus Caesar, after a long 
 search, found a man who was said never to have told a lie and 
 he was therefore considered worthy to be the chief sacrificer at 
 truth's altar. 
 
 Truth is the most valuable and the rarest thing in all the 
 world. It is the hardest thing to recognize, stand for and 
 tell. David said, *'A11 men are liars." Quoth Hamlet, ** 'Tis 
 as easy as lying." Men lie by day and night and see things 
 through colored spectacles or badly focalized glasses. As a 
 man thinketh in his heart, so is he, and his creed and con- 
 duct are synonymous. We live and move and have our being 
 in our creeds. If in the parlor of our belief a strange fact 
 seeks admittance, we slam the door in its face and bid it be 
 gone. Ignorant and wilful bigotry bars out the truth. 
 
 '*Lord, how this world is given to lying." We have liars 
 religious, mercantile, social and political. Sensual, selfish, prej- 
 udiced, bigoted man cannot perceive the truth, or but very 
 little of it, and when he does his life doesn't live it and his lips 
 can't tell it. The light of truth is so blinding that he can only 
 gaze at it through the smoked glass of error. 
 
 Leigh Hunt writes entertainingly of, * * The Rare Vice Called 
 Lying." He calls it the most common and conventional vice, 
 affirming that in the monarch it is kingcraft, in the statesman 
 expediency, in the churchman mental reservation, in the law- 
 yer the interest of his client, and in the merchant the secrets 
 of trade. 
 
 I looked in a leading Encyclopaedia for Truth and couldn't 
 find it, though like Lessing I was an honest searcher. Pytha- 
 goras said that if God became visible he would choose light for 
 his body and truth for his soul. There is a proverb that truth 
 is God's daughter and a saying that truth seldom goes without 
 
248 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 a scratched face. If Truth is in a well she will never be brought 
 up by a bigot at the windlass who lowers the bucket of his 
 willful selfishness. 
 
 A liar has been defined as one v/ho is a coward to man and 
 brave against God. Happily, there is more truth in humble 
 than in high life. The border line between truth and error is 
 often very indistinct. What man deems true today is often 
 discovered falsehood tomorrow. 
 
 Today it is criminal to tell the truth by speech or written 
 word. If you dare serve God and not cringe to man, the crowd 
 stands aghast and agape and thinks you crazy or a traitor. 
 To tell the truth of foreign diplomacy, or home duplicity, by 
 talk in street, sermon in pulpit, or by pen on paper, is im- 
 pious, unpopular and dangerous, and there are many clerical 
 and political spies who seek evidence to suppress, fine, im- 
 prison, execute or shoot you. 
 
 Fontenelle declared, ''If I held all the truth of the universe 
 in my hand, I would be very careful not to open it. ' ' The old 
 gent was too conservative. He should not imprison thoughts 
 but bid them go forth in the spirit of Him who was truth in- 
 carnate and who said, ''Ye shall know the truth, and the truth 
 shall make you free." 
 
 Truth is mighty and will prevail. Though crushed to earth 
 like an opera hat, she will rise again. In the classic words of 
 Kichter, "Truth, like Venus de Medicis, will pass down in 
 thirty fragments to posterity ; but posterity will collect and re- 
 compose them into a goddess. Then also thy temple, eternal 
 truth, that now stands half below the earth, made hollow by 
 the sepulchres of its witnesses, will raise itself in the total 
 majority of proportions, and will stand in monumental granite ; 
 and every pillar on which it rests will be fixed in the grave of 
 a martyr." 
 
 Doubting Castle has many prisoners. Often what man 
 thinks is real truth, is merely its shadow. We much resemble 
 those prisoners whom Plato describes in his Republic. They 
 were chained so they could not turn their heads and sat in a 
 roofless prison into which some light came from overhead. 
 However, this light was from a fire which rose up behind them 
 and from which they were only separated by a little wall. Out- 
 side this wall men were walking, carrying all sorts of wood 
 
ON THE WARPATH 249 
 
 and stone statues and were talking with each other. The poor 
 prisoners could not see these men, who did not rise above the 
 wall, and even of the statues which did, they saw nothing but 
 the shadows passing along the side of the wall opposite to 
 them. They thought the shadows were real objects and be- 
 lieved that the echo of their own prison was the conversation 
 of the shadows on the wall. 
 
 INFERNAL PERSECUTION 
 
 IeRSECUTION is the path of humanity. The Master 
 of truth told his disciples that he sent them out as 
 lambs among wolves. Judging from the past, saintly 
 slaughter will continue as long as time lasts. The owl 
 
 hates the light and men love darkness because their deeds are 
 
 evil. 
 
 Pythagoras and Socrates suffered persecution. He who in- 
 carnated truth by His teaching and example, was crucified. In 
 Reformation times the Inquisition boiled, roasted, and cut up 
 those who sought religious freedom. In science, Galileo, Har- 
 vey and Jenner were hooted and hissed as dangerous lunatics. 
 The man who called steam powerful was called crazy, and an- 
 other who advocated railroads was placed in a straight-jacket. 
 It is said Cromwell was allowed to die of ague because the doc- 
 tors were unwilling to give him Peruvian bark, which then was 
 held to be a product of the Devil's garden. In vaccination 
 Jenner was accused of making children ox-faced and it was 
 said innoculation would induce the patient to grow horns and 
 bellow like a bull. Fools laughed at our own Ben Franklin 
 and his kite and lightning rod. The same pooh-hooh was often 
 carried to desperate persecuting lengths against those who 
 advocated the cable, the telephone, the wireless, the airship and 
 the hundred things that make life easy and successful today. 
 The elder Disraeli shows that telescopes and microscopes were 
 at first denounced as ''atheistic inventions which perverted 
 our organ of sight and made everything appear in a false 
 light." 
 
250 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 In **01d Mortality," Scott tells how angry Mause grew at 
 her son, Cuddie, because he used a windmill machine to sep- 
 arate the corn from the chaff, thus seeking, she said, to thwart 
 the will of Providence, using human means instead of using 
 prayer and relying on divine Providence, to send the winnow- 
 ing breeze from heaven. When I crossed the Isthmus of Panama 
 I heard of the priest Acosta who in 1588 solemnly affirmed, 
 when the route across the Isthmus had been discovered, that 
 it was a resistance to the finite barriers of a divine Providence, 
 and that if man transgressed and crossed the Isthmus he would 
 call down curses and plagues from heaven. I recall the days 
 of slavery when the Northern abolitionists, who sought to 
 abolish it, were solemnly told by the Southern planter that 
 they sinned against the Bible and its God who had cursed Ham 
 and his posterity to a state of servitude forever. 
 
 There never has been a time, there is no time, there never 
 will be a time when there will not be some damned error for 
 some sober brow to bless with a text. To improve self and in- 
 form others is to receive the reward of slander if not slaughter. 
 A great man is always hounded and hated, receives curses and 
 not coin. 
 
 Here are a few cases of persecution in the world's crime 
 calendar. In 1621 the Parliament of Paris threatened all 
 with death who taught anything contrary to the doctrine of 
 Aristotle and the ancient writers. In the sixteenth century, 
 heretics, who denied the doctrine of purgatory, refused to be- 
 lieve in relics, and objected to being taxed by the church, were 
 hung to the end of a long beam and raised and lowered into 
 a big fire beneath them, suffering the unspeakable torture of 
 a lingering death. These roasted martyrs could be said to be 
 received into heaven with the literal reward of *'Well done." 
 
 The citizens of Toulouse gloried in their shame and for 
 years had an annual celebration of the St. Bartholomew mas- 
 sacre of 4,000 of their citizens, lest this praiseworthy event in 
 their history should be forgotten. 
 
 I glory that I am an American and am proud that as a 
 Lansing I am descended from Holland-Dutch stock. Read a 
 few rewards some of my ancestors received for thinking for 
 themselves. 
 
ON THE WARPATH 251 
 
 Men were arrested on suspicion of being heretics, their 
 court of justice was a rack and their only advocate was forti- 
 tude. In dimly lighted dungeons they were tortured at mid- 
 night. The unfortunate, whether virgin, matron or man, was 
 stripped stark naked and stretched on rough wooden benches 
 by weights, pulleys and screws, until sinews snapped and bones 
 cracked. After these pleasant formalities, if the victim re- 
 mained obstinate and refused to recant his religious belief, he 
 was strangled or burned at the stake. If there was anything 
 left of his body after death it was mutilated by the holy fath- 
 ers. Even the grave of the victim was desecrated and rifled by 
 these ecclesiastical jackals. 
 
 The inquisitor Titelmann, that blessed bigot, strangled and 
 burned a schoolmaster at the stake because he "was addicted 
 to reading the Bible.'* In one day, this fanatic fiend broke 
 into a house, seized a man and his wife and four children, to- 
 gether with two newly married couples and two other persons, 
 convicted them all of praying at their own doors and reading 
 the Bible, and had them taken out at once and burned. 
 
 One man, for the heinous sin of copying some hymns, was 
 burned alive. Another, because he was an Anabaptist, was 
 hacked to death by a rusty sword in the presence of his wife, 
 who fell dead before him from horror. A man, his wife and 
 two sons were burned alive at the stake because they would 
 not attend mass. 
 
 Here is an interesting item taken from the municipal ex- 
 pense record of Tournay: 
 
 **To Mr. Jacques Barra, executioner, for having tortured 
 twice Jean de Lannoy, ten sous. 
 
 *'To the same, for having executed, by fire, said Lannoy, 
 sixty sous. For having thrown his cinders into the river, 
 eight sous.'' 
 
 In this same town, a velvet manufacturer went one Christ- 
 mas morning to the cathedral and stood near the altar. At the 
 moment the priest held aloft the consecrated host, he snatched 
 the wafer from his hands, broke it and shouted, *' Misguided 
 men, do you take this thing to be Jesus Christ, your Lord and 
 Saviour?" Then he threw the fragments on the ground and 
 
252 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 trampled them under foot. He was arrested, tortured three 
 times to see if he had any accomplices, and none being found, 
 he was dragged on a hurdle to the market-place, his mouth 
 being closed with an iron gag. Then his right hand and foot 
 were burned and twisted off between two red-hot irons. They 
 tore his tongue out by the roots, and because he still tried to 
 call on God, they again applied the iron gag. Then these fol- 
 lowers of the meek and lowly Jesus fastened his arms and legs 
 behind his back, and in the spirit of Him who said, ''Father, 
 forgive them, they know not what they do," they hooked the 
 middle of the victim's body to an iron chain, making it swing 
 over a slow fire until he was completely roasted. 
 
 Persecution follows truth as closely as a shadow follows 
 your heels. We know how clerical power aided by secular in- 
 fluence believed that oil would burn as well as bless, and so im- 
 prisoned and burned its enemies. It is kindergarten knowl- 
 edge that after six years Alva boasted he had strangled, 
 drowned, beheaded or burned more than 18,000 of his fellow 
 creatures, to say nothing of the tens of thousands who had 
 fallen in siege and battle during his reign. 
 
 The present friendly feeling between the North and South 
 of Ireland is of long and cherished standing. The student of 
 history learns how the green of this beautiful Emerald Isle was 
 stained and soaked with brothers' blood. Ireland once perse- 
 cuted the Protestants by burying theioa alive, hanging up moth- 
 ers on gibbets with daughters tied 'round their necks to see 
 them expire ; ripping up women with child and taking the half- 
 formed infants from the womb and throwing them to the 
 swine or dogs to be devoured; putting daggers into the hands 
 of manacled prisoners, forcing them into the breasts of fath- 
 ers, mothers, wives and children, thereby hoping to make them 
 guilty of parricide and damn their souls while they destroyed 
 their bodies. 
 
 If a good tree brings forth good fruit, from what garden 
 of nethermost hell came these holy hangmen, saintly stranglers, 
 blessed burners, Trinitarian torturers, and Christly cutthroats ! 
 
 And now abideth faith, hope and charity, or love, and what 
 love is this which outhates and outpersecutes the Furies of 
 Aeschylus — a love that hanged, beheaded, crucified, broke on 
 the wheel, cut in two, skinned alive, carded and curricombed 
 
ON THE WARPATH 253 
 
 the flesh from bones, compelled one brother to drink his broth- 
 er's blood, and forced captains to tear the flesh of their com- 
 mander with their teeth and eat it! 
 
 The men who have tried to help the human race have gen- 
 erally been rewarded with a kick instead of a croAvn. 
 
 The philosopher, Descartes, was accused of atheism and 
 persecuted. By way of high compliment it was proposed by 
 some that he be burned on a high hill that all the countryside 
 might see the bonfire. 
 
 Petrarch and his brother poets were plagued by the priest- 
 hood who imagined they could write no poetry without being 
 in communication with the devil. 
 
 Albert the Great was a curious kind of genius who invented 
 something that uttered vocal sounds like a French talking-doll. 
 But the great church father, Thomas Aquinas, thought the 
 devil was in it and with a blow from his staff destroyed the 
 labor of thirty years. 
 
 Cornelius Agrippa was given a ticket-of-leave for making 
 a few philosophical experiments that a primary school-boy 
 can perform today. When he advanced the opinion that St. 
 Anne was blessed with three husbands, he was compelled to 
 fly from place to place, regarded by everyone as a fiend. 
 
 When the persecuted Grandier was led to the stake, it was 
 said that a big horse-fly skated around on his bald head. One 
 of the officiating monks noticed it, and remembering that in 
 Hebrew the god of flies was called *^ Beelzebub", declared 
 that he saw the devil come to take possession of the martyr. 
 
 Rousseau, the herald of the French Revolution, whose life 
 motto of * liberty, equality and fraternity" is the battle-cry of 
 the Allied forces today, was hated by kings and priests. The 
 Parliament of Paris in 1762 condemned his book, *']Emile," 
 and ordered his arrest. He was denounced by the Archbishop 
 of Paris, threatened by the Jesuits, and fled to Switzerland. 
 His books were burned, his house was attacked and he was 
 stoned in the streets. But as Carlyle says, ''He could be cooped 
 into garrets, laughed at as a maniac, left to starve like a wild 
 beast in his cage ; but he could not be hindered from setting 
 the world on fire." 
 
 Because one Virgilius dared say there were such things as 
 the antipodes, his clerical superior declared him a heretic. 
 
254 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 Stenographers should be interested to know that the Ab- 
 bot Trithemius, who wrote on the subject of stenography, 
 was suspected of making a sign code with the foul fiend, and 
 his works were ordered to be publicly burned. 
 
 Socrates' life was drowned in a cup of hemlock because he 
 was rash and original enough in his time to try and be intel- 
 ligent and virtuous. 
 
 Aristotle, the great philosopher, was accused of impiety by 
 the Pharisaic Democratic party of Athens, and fled to Chalcis, 
 where he calculated he could solve the problem of his life by 
 taking poison, which he did. 
 
 Anaxagoras was in the ''Who's Who" class of Greek teach- 
 ers and philosophers. He was the schoolmaster of such bad 
 boys as Pericles, Thucydides, Euripides and Socrates. Because 
 he believed in a god of truth and advanced theories which 
 were thought to be slighting and slurring on the orthodox gods 
 of Greece, he was imprisoned and banished. 
 
 Heraclitus, the ** weeping philosopher," whom Democritus 
 gave the laugh, believed that fire was the cause of all exist- 
 ence. He was held up to burning ridicule by his countrymen 
 who finally made it so hot for him that after he had practically 
 told them to go to Gehenna, he went into exile. 
 
 History repeats itself but nowadays you seldom find peo- 
 ple repeating this history of Galileo. For declaring that the 
 "world do move" he was summoned to Rome to deny it, which 
 he did, though he is said to have risen from this declaration 
 v»rith the whispered protest, "It does move, however." When 
 he looked at the donkeys who were trying him, heard their 
 bray and felt sore at the kicks they had given him, he ex- 
 claimed, "Are these my judges !" Poor and old, he was thrust 
 in jail where he was visited by Milton. The father confessor 
 of his widow, knowing her great piety, took advantage of it, 
 asked for Galileo's manuscript, looked it over and then de- 
 stroyed everything which in his judgment the world should 
 not know. 
 
ONTHEWARPATH 255 
 
 IN JAIL 
 
 LAS, that tlie light of a man's mind shonld lead him 
 to dark dungeons, and that his sentences of wisdom 
 should lead him to wicked jail sentences! Should 
 "The Devil in Mexico" inspire my political and pap- 
 istical persecutors to put me in jail, I could console myself 
 with the thought that there were ''others." 
 
 De Foe of ''Robinson Crusoe" fame was thrown into New- 
 gate prison for a political pamphlet he wrote. 
 
 Smollett, the great humorist and novelist, was fined and 
 imprisoned for criticizing Admiral Knowles. 
 
 Leigh Hunt was locked up because he spoke contemptu- 
 ously and disrespectfully of King George. 
 
 The scholarly Selden was jailed for attacking the divine 
 right of tithes and the king's prerogative. This gave him time 
 to write his, "History of Eadmer." 
 
 Voltaire was thrown into the Bastile, but they could put 
 no stone on his intellect for here he planned and wrote most 
 of his "Henriade." 
 
 Diderot, French encyclopediste, was plotted against and 
 persecuted by the low-browed cleric and political bigots of his 
 day. Because he was broad-minded, he was shoved into a nar- 
 row prison-cell at Vincennes. His books were condemned, mu- 
 tilated, burned and suppressed, but his dark age could not put 
 out the light of his genius, which helped kindle the liberty 
 watch-fires of the French Revolution. 
 
 Bunyan was regarded as such an all around bum that they 
 shut him up in Bedford jail. His muse was "confined" here 
 and brought forth "Pilgrim's Progress," which continues its 
 journey around the world. 
 
 Jail didn't imprison the thought of the bold, brilliant 
 Cervantes, w^ho during his captivity gave the world, "Don 
 Quixote," to ridicule the false bravery that strutted about in 
 the guise of chivalry. 
 
 Sir Walter Raleigh was some globe-trotter. I visited his 
 prison-cell in the London Tower, where for eleven years his 
 body was pent up, but his soul marched on in his famous 
 "History of the World.'* 
 
256 ONTHEWARPATH 
 
 The great Boethius protested against excesses of the Gothic 
 officers, and because he defended Albinus, who was accused of 
 seeking to free Rome, in spite of all his learning and knowl- 
 edge, he became unpopular with Theodorie, was accused of 
 treason, without trial was sentenced to death and imprisoned 
 in the tower of Pavia, where he wrote his great work, the 
 ** Consolations of Philosophy." 
 
 These are but a few illustrations which show that while 
 stone walls might imprison the body, iron bars could not cage 
 the minds and souls of the occupants. 
 
 New and Old "World have many famous prisons which I 
 have visited — Sing-Sing in New York; Bilibid in Manila; the 
 penitentiary at Lima, Peru; Socrates* cell in Athens; Paul's 
 at Rome; political prisons in Venice; the damp dungeon of 
 Bonnivard at Chillon; Raleigh's cell in London tower; the 
 Fortress of Petropaulovski in Petrograd — but none of them 
 equal in sad interest the gloomy prison of Macherus beyond 
 the Jordan, where Herod imprisoned John, the man of whom 
 Jesus said, ** Among them that are born of women there hath 
 not risen a greater than John the Baptist." 
 
 This is a big world, but the biggest thing in it is man, and 
 the best and biggest thing in man is his mind that thinks, his 
 soul that loves and his will that decides. 
 
 This great globe is related and correlated. Gravitation 
 and chemical affinity bind earth, air and water in wonderful 
 harmony, but how man finds himself in life, adapts himself to 
 surroundings, learns his mission and fits himself as a cog in 
 life's machinery, is as much more wonderful to me in com- 
 parison than the earth is to a baseball. 
 
 Leaving the crowded city, heartsick of its formal Pharisees, 
 skeptical Sadducees, sin, shame and scandal, John goes to the 
 desert wilderness, called the *' Appalling Desolation," goes out 
 as Moses, Elijah and Christ had gone, to study nature face to 
 face and learn the lessons of law, order, humility, peace, econ- 
 omy and beneficence. He graduates and his hearers in the 
 country are the poor and disheartened, the business citizen 
 and the soldier, who are drawn to him because he has learned 
 in solitude the secret of a happy life. 
 
 John relied on no peculiarity for his following. It was the 
 message and not the man. Tradition paints him as tall, hollow- 
 
ON THE WARPATH- 257 
 
 cheeked, with long unshaven beard and a pale brow that was 
 shaded by locks of long matted hair. Instead of trying to 
 lead the fashion, or bragging about his food of locusts and 
 wild honey, or that he drank nothing stronger than spring 
 water and they must do the same or be damned, he laid the ax 
 at the root of the tree and preached, ''Bring forth fruits meet 
 for repentance." He wanted them to live real by being re- 
 formed ; to make good by being good ; to square their conduct 
 with their creed ; to put up a good article of character on Mon- 
 day or shut up their shop on Sunday. This preacher of right- 
 eousness and right doing was not only holy but humble. He 
 was willing to decrease that Christ might increase ; to be as 
 the night before the dawn ; to be nothing if his Messiah might 
 be everything. 
 
 Herod heard of him and patronizingly sent for him for en- 
 tertainment and instruction. John was a ''good fellow" and 
 company and Herod made it pleasant for him. John soon 
 found that Herod was a bad companion, a high roller and even 
 then was living in open adultery with his royal brother's wife. 
 
 Policy and expediency said, "Now be careful; it's no affair 
 of yours ; say little or nothing ; if j^ou meddle you will lose out ; 
 keep blind and silent and all will be well. ' ' 
 
 John was not ungrateful of Herod's favors, but his con- 
 science was more than coronet. He could not shirk or sympa- 
 thize or make nice distinctions. To him sin was a monstrous 
 curse, and though his duty was delicate and difficult, his heart 
 was devoted to God. Sincerely, bravely and plainly John 
 looked Herod in the face and said, "It is not lawful for thee 
 to have her." Good-bye John, I see your finish; you have 
 made and taken your bond of fate, but Herod couldn't bull- 
 doze, bribe or muzzle you. 
 
 John was thrown in jail. He had no bank account to sub- 
 sidize lawyers, or fix judge and jury ; no pretty girls to send 
 him fiowers ; no maudlin editors to excuse his lese majeste re- 
 marks ; no reporters to write up a story of his privations ; no 
 photographers to get his picture and put it before the dear 
 public. But John was content. He made his prison a pulpit 
 to preach to the lordly adulterous Herod, "It is not lawful for 
 thee to have her." 
 
258 ON THE WARPATH 
 
 Hell had no fury like that scorned woman, Herodias, and 
 when her daughter gave the sensual, seductive dance which 
 thrilled the lustful nerve of the half-drunk Herod, who prom- 
 ised her any and everything in return, the mother asked for the 
 head of John the Baptist on a platter. 
 
 Putting pleasure above principle, and like many another 
 preferring an adulterous girl to Almighty God, Herod sent the 
 executioner with his gleaming sword to John's prison, and 
 there, alone, with no multitude to applaud but with the ap- 
 proval of his conscience, he bowed his head to the fatal stroke. 
 As it rolled to the floor the blood-spattered lips muttered the 
 words, "It is not lawful for thee to have her." The sentence 
 of righteous rebuke Herod must have recognized until the 
 day of his own death in the blaze of the sun, the light of the 
 star, the flash of the lightning, the roll of the thunder, the 
 voice of the wind, the song of the bird and the moan of the 
 sea. 
 
 But John had not failed. He founded no sect but laid the 
 foundation, cemented with his blood, for a bridge over which 
 Christianity has ever since marched. His fearlessness gave 
 courage to Luther and was the inspiration of Washington and 
 Lincoln, as it will ever be with every true servant of God. 
 
 Like all great souls John had fears and doubts which he 
 solved by sending word to Christ, **Art Thou He that should 
 come, or do we look for another?" The Master gave him 
 friendly and full answer, **The blind see, the deaf hear, the 
 dead are raised, to the poor the Gospel is preached." Like 
 his Messiah Master his preaching was paid for in tears and 
 blood. By that Master he is crowned forever. Herod got 
 John's head but Christ crowned John's soul. 
 
 *'They never fail who die 
 In a great cause ; the block may soak their gore. 
 Their heads may sodden in the sun ; their limbs 
 Be strung to city gates and castle walls — 
 But still their spirits walk abroad. Though years 
 Elapse and others share as dark a doom, 
 They but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts 
 Which overpower all others, and conduct 
 The world at last to freedom." 
 
Xhe De\/il in A^exico 
 
 By Rev. "Golightly" Morrill 
 
 Everybody from Alaska to Panama has read about it; President 
 Wilson's personal envoy to Mexico, John Lind, tried to suppress it; 
 the U. S. government barred it from the mails, caused the arrest 
 and indictment of the author, and prohibited him from leaving the 
 country. 
 
 Thrilling — Timely — Truthful 
 
 350 Unexpurgated Pages — Atrocity Photos — $1.00 Express Prepaid 
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 Mexico is one-sixteenth of an inch necwer hell than any country 
 I ever visited in my rouyid-the-ivorld travels, "M" in Mexico means 
 murder and misrule. Her flag — green, ivhite and red — stands for 
 jealousy, cowardice arid butchery. The national bird should be a 
 buzzard, the coat of aimis a skull and cross bones and her national 
 hymn "Cara,7uba, Damn the Gringo." 
 
 Go to the Devil, gentle reader, if you ivant to know Mexico, for 
 he has made it his favorite resort. There is sulphur and smoke m 
 volcanoes; heat in climate and food; torment in cactus plant and 
 insect life; fire in the eyes of the senoritas; hell-hate in the hearts 
 of the rulers and despair in the souls of the peons. From the be- 
 ginning the Devil has been Mexico's mental, moral and military hero 
 and today he is the real patron saint of the people. Viva Diablo! 
 
 Some of the Photos 
 
 Hanged Bandit Picked to Pieces by Vultures — Insurrectos Ar- 
 rested — Bandit Strung to Telegraph Pole — A Yucatan Execution — 
 Dynamited Passenger Train — Bulltight — Beggars — Mexican Carnival 
 — Bandit-Burned Town — Aztec Gods — Soldier-Guarded Train — Ruins 
 of Uxmal — Suspects Shot by Firing Squad. 
 
 A Few of the Chapters 
 
 Palm Beach Nuts, Havana's Satanic Sabbath, Whiskey in Church, 
 "Feast of Blisters," Wild Women, Died Game, Attacked by Ticks, 
 Firecracker Fiends, Native Dances, Carnival Curse, Throwing the 
 Bull, A "Peon" of Joy, Night Life, In a "Norther" Hurricane, Disease 
 and Depravity, Tampico Tramps, "Plaza de Prostitution," Kaiser- 
 istas in Mexico, Hats, Hanged, "Mucho Disgusto," A Farcical Elec- 
 tion, Carranza the Criminal, Pickpockets and Thieves' Market, Sere- 
 nading a Poet, Fly and Dirt Eaters, Hermits and Harlots, Sun and 
 Moon Pyramids, A Subterranean Town, Hotel Hells, Choked to 
 Death, Beggars, Cortez — the Devil Crusader, A Brush with Bandits, 
 The Revolution Habit, Mexican Beatitudes, Manicures, Hellish 
 Atrocities. 
 
 Address G. L. Morrill, Pastor People's Church, 
 3356 10th Ave. So., Minneapolis, Minn., U. S. A. 
 
PRESS COMMENTS ON "THE DEVIL IN MEXICO" 
 
 CHICAGO SATURDAY BLADE— A thrilling and timely volume. The 
 Blade having published several articles contributed by the author, readers 
 will no doubt recall the wretched and forbidding state of affairs he found 
 there. The book is well illustrated with half-tone pictures. 
 
 NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY, E. H. Anderson, Director— A work 
 of this character will be of much interest and value in our collection. It 
 will be used not only for current reference, but will be permanently pre- 
 served in our collection for the use of future readers. 
 
 LIGHT, LOUISVILLE, KY.— "The Devil in Mexico" is worse, if any- 
 thing, than Alorriil's lively trip among Central America's "rotten repub- 
 lics,'' but interesting and full of wit, humor, pathos — oh, my yes. Best 
 reading ever for a railroad journey, for five or ten minutes, or for a day 
 on this live topic. There is lots of research, statistics, information and 
 speculation. Morrill saw harsh things through dark glasses polished up 
 with a sense of humor. 
 
 STATE HISTORICAL SOCIETY OF WISCONSIN, Chief, Order 
 Division — On behalf of the Society I wish to thank you for "The Devil in 
 Mexico," which you recently sent our Library in response to our request, 
 and which we are glad to have to add to our Mexico descriptive material. 
 
 Dr. H. A. MONDAY, MEXICO CITY, MEXICO— You have depicted 
 conditions at first hand in a manner that is going to cause a lot of com- 
 ment, and I don't mind telling you that vou are hated as but few men are 
 here today because you have told the truth. 
 
 WM. SULZER, EX-GOV. OF N. Y.— I have spent a good deal of time 
 in Mexico. Next to seeing a country yourself, the best thing is to see it 
 through the ey^s of some celebrated globe-trotter like Rev. G. L. Morrill. 
 Brother Morrill has the rare ability to describe what he sees in a fascinat- 
 ing way ; in splendid terse language ; so that the book is as instructive as 
 it is interesting and entertaining. 
 
 M. J. CLANCY, BLUEFIELDS, NICARAGUA— Your Mexico book 
 is certainly hot stuff, but not overdone. It will take many years of educa- 
 tion to impress on the average American this fact — "There is not a Latin- 
 American south of the Rio Grande to Tierra del Fuego who does not 
 inwardly hate the gringo." 
 
 BERT HUBBARD, EDITOR ROYCROFT MAGAZINE, N. Y.— Like 
 your other books of travel this is intensely interesting. You rap things 
 right and left for their own good. Everybody who has any interest at all 
 in Mexican affairs ought to have a copy of this book. 
 
 C. M. REMINGTON, OMAHA. NEB.— I was a resident of Mexico 
 from September, 1910. to the summer of 1916. My first eight months were 
 spent as a soldier in the army of Madero. Later. I worked in different 
 places from Tampico to the Isthmus of Tehauntepec. I was among the 
 refugees during the fiasco of 1914. I have been intimately acquainted with 
 several of the leading Maderistas, Huertistas, Villistas, Felixistas, Carran- 
 zistas. Palaezistas and Zapatistas. I have traveled on all the different 
 movable things they have down there, from a burro to a "tren de tercera 
 clase." I have been robbed of clothes and every movable, and stood all the 
 humiliations Americans are subjected to in Mexico. I have spent several 
 dollars for books which were supposed to give a person the inside history 
 of Mexico, but not till I saw your book was there one that came within 
 gunshot of the situation. It is the real and actual thing. 
 
CLERGY CARICATURED IN CARNIVAL, 
 CAMPECHE, MEXICO 
 
HOBART TOWN 
 
 TASMANIA 
 
"ROHEN REPUBLICS" 
 
 A TROPICAL TRAMP IN 
 
 CENTRAL AMERICA 
 By Rev. ''Golightly'' Morrill 
 
 LITERARY LAVA 
 
 A Witty, Racy, Epigrammatic Book, Right Up-to-Date, 
 
 On British Honduras, Guatemala, Salvador, 
 
 Spanish Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa 
 
 Rica, Panama, Colombia, Cuba, 
 
 Jamaica and Nassau. 
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 302 
 
 Punchy 
 
 PACES 
 
 53 
 
 Uncen- 
 sored 
 
 PHOTOS 
 
 HAMLET found something "rotten 
 in the state of Denmark," but it 
 was sweet compared with what I 
 discovered in Central America — 
 the land of dirt, disease, destitution, 
 darkness, dilapidation, despots, delay, 
 debt, deviltry and degeneracy, where a 
 conservative estimate makes 90 per 
 cent of the women immoral, 95 per 
 cent of the men thieves and 100 per 
 cent of the population liars. 
 
 A FEW OF THE CHAPTERS 
 
 Naughty New Orleans, Hell in Mexico, Hookworms and Cock- 
 roaches, Gum-Chewers, A Carib Village, Petrified People, At- 
 lantis, In the Jungle, Hotel Dives, Gambling and Girls, Coffee 
 Plantation, Sunday Cockfights. Skulls and Cross-Bones, Movies 
 and Marimba, A Pig-Driver President, Pillory and Peon, Alli- 
 gator Hunt, Loose INIorals, Bombast and Bombs, Custom House 
 Grafters, Our New Naval Base. A Crew of Crooks, Liars, Steal- 
 ing — A Fine Art, Patriotic Piffle, Manana, Hammocks, Vol- 
 canoes, Few Clothes, Filibusters. Intervention, Profanity, An 
 Arch Fiend, Our Flag and Baseball. Nicaragua Canal Route, 
 Quarantined, Prostitution in Par.ama, In an Earthquake, Down 
 in a Submarine, An Incestuous Union, Bananas, A Night in 
 Cartagena, Poor Schools, A Saintly Stiff, Where Bolivar Died, 
 Bastards, A Garbage Market, A "Colombia" Record, A Tropical 
 Court, Passion and Fashion, Fan Flirts, Santiago Memories, The 
 Lottery Game, Our Lady Nicotine, "Pan" America. Diplomuts, 
 Spanish Devils, Sodom Surpassed. 
 
 $1.00 POSTPAID 
 
 Address G. L. Morrill, Pastor People's Church 
 
 3356 10th Ave., So., Minneapolis, Minn., U. S. A. 
 
PRESS COMMENTS ON G. L. MORRILL'S BOOK— 
 "ROTTEN REPUBLICS— A TROPICAL TRAMP 
 IN CENTRAL AMERICA" 
 
 "Twenty years of my life were spent in Latin America, where I 
 went as a physician. I know the people and speak their language. I 
 hold the chair of Foreign Trade at the New York University, where 
 we have a very large student body, and have recommended your work 
 to my pupils in order to give them a true view of the Latin repub- 
 lics." — W. E. AUGHINBAUGH, Foreign and Export Editor of Leslie's 
 Weekly and Author of "Selling Latin America." 
 
 "The next best thing to traveling around the world is to hear 
 G. L. Morrill tell about it in his pithy, punchy, rapid-fire way." — E. M. 
 NEWMAN, noted globe-trotter and lecturer, 
 
 "A man like Golightly Morrill can not possibly keep out of trouble. 
 He just feeds on it. He snoops around and pokes his nose in where 
 angels and folk like you and me fear to tread. Someone hits him on 
 his inquisitive nose. Then he sits hiinself down and writes an inter- 
 esting account of it all, flavors it with a lot of sporty illustrations of 
 ladies with and without kimonos, rag rugs, screens, barrels, etc. You 
 and I buy it and chuckle over it. There's a dozen photographs in 
 'Rotten Republics' that would compromise Golightly in any state in 
 the Union, including Utah." — FELIX SHAY, Editor of the Roycroft 
 Magazine, N. Y. 
 
 "You have a wonderfully interesting way of telling things. How- 
 ever, after having written this book, I just wonder if you will feel 
 safe in making another trip through Central America. I notice you 
 sort of talk in mighty plain English." — BERT HUBBARD, son of El- 
 bert Hubbard. 
 
 "Knowing, as I do, the countries which you describe, your original, 
 terse style is doubly interesting." — CHARLES E. EBERHARDT, U. S. 
 Consul General to Latin America. 
 
 "I have lived in Nicaragua for twenty years. It would be a for- 
 tunate thing if the gullible investors in the tropics were able to get 
 and read your book on Central America before investing." — M. J. 
 CLANCY, Bluefields, Nicaragua. 
 
 ■■ 'Rotten Republics' is one of the best books T ever read. It is 
 interesting, instructive and entertaining. If you have ever taken a 
 trip through Central America, you should read this book. If you have 
 not, you should read it. It is epigrammatic and right up to date, and 
 by a Globe-Trotter who sees things and has the rare faculty of telling 
 you about them so that you can sea them for yourself." — ^WILLIAM 
 SULZER, ex-Governor of New York. 
 
 "r'olightly, vour books are great. They've got a sure enough 
 'punch' in them." — BOB FITZSIMMONS, World-Famous Pugilist. 
 
 '•'Rotten Republics' is a book that pleases and startles, but all the 
 while teaches the great moral lessons intended. Doctor Morrill's vivid 
 pictures are given in crisp chapters that entertain and bring us to 
 the conclusion that spiritual regeneration is the immediate need of 
 Latin America."— CLIFTON D. GRAY, in the Chicago Standard. 
 
 "G. L. Morrill is a sort of ministerial Irvin Cobb. His book is real 
 life shown up on the printed page as clearly as though Jack London 
 himself were behind the pen. Good and bad are impartially shown. 
 To the student of social conditions it is a valuable modern reference 
 book. To the casual reader it is the best and wittiest thing he can 
 take on a vacation or a railroad journey. He tells the truth without 
 fear or favor. Some of the stories will never appear in the newspapers 
 United States ought to be pretty well posted by a Morrill before it ties 
 up with Fan-American Congresses." — LIGHT, Louisville, Ky. 
 
"South Sea 
 Silhouettes" 
 
 60 
 
 RARE 
 
 PHOTOS 
 
 BY 
 REV."GOLIGHTLY" MORRILL 
 
 A SKY-PILOT'S TRAVEL "LOG" 
 
 ON 
 
 HAWAII, SAMOA, FIJI, TONGA, TAHITI, 
 RAROTONGA, NEW ZEALAND, AUSTRALIA 
 
 AND TASMANIA 
 
 Golightly was introduced to a hurricane in the Tongan Islands 
 and saw a whole town demolished before his eyes; traveled in Ger- 
 man Samoa at the time of the English occupation by New Zealand 
 troops; went through waterspouts, tidal wave and drought un- 
 touched; interviewed Fijian ex-cannibals and an Australian abo- 
 riginal princess; photographed volcanoes and geysers, South Sea 
 island dances and carnivals, and the war ruins of Papeete, Tahiti, 
 made by the "Emden." His descriptions of the native life, manners 
 and morals, and the effect of our so-called civilization on them, 
 are racy and original. • 
 
 SOME OF THE 60 UNUSUAL PHOTOS 
 
 Kilauea Volcano, Hula-hula Dancers, Fijian Black Beauties, 
 Ex-cannibal Chief, Meke-meke Dance, A llava Party, Pounding 
 Tapa, Tongan Belles, In the Hurricane, The Tin Can Mail, R. L. 
 >tevenson's Grave, Samoan Siva Dancers, Lime-liaired Native, Rub- 
 bing Noses, Haka Dancers, N. Z. Geyser, Women Voting, Blue 
 IMountains, Aborigine with Boomerang, Native Wedding, Shelled 
 by Warships, Maid in Tahiti. 
 
 PARTIAL CONTENTS 
 
 Sydney After Dark 
 A Black Angel 
 Tasmaniacs 
 A Deck-A-Log 
 A Pajama Party 
 Pearl Divers 
 Strange Marriages 
 
 Cannibals 
 A Dead-Beat King 
 Mid-Pacific Carnival 
 Women's Morals 
 Wrecked 
 
 Swimming Ashore 
 Horrible Deaths 
 R. L. Stevenson's Grave I^epers 
 Loving Hands Dope 
 
 Tattooing Smugglers 
 
 Easter Gambling Civilized Savages 
 
 Prizefights Hell's Masterpiece 
 
 Heavy Gold Papers — $1 00 Postpaid. 
 <!V<ldre.sJ>i G. Ij. Morrill, l»astor I'eople'.s riiureh, :^:i^M 10th 
 
 Minneapolis, Minn., I . S. A. 
 
 Ave. So., 
 
SOME PRESS COMMENT ON "SOUTH SEA SILHOUETTES" 
 
 "The healthy man does not live who will fail to open it to 
 read. Because — sh-sh! — the front cover is a cut-out and peering 
 through the aperture is a winsome maiden of Tahiti, clad in two 
 yards of Sears-Roebuck muslin and a string of beads. Inside you 
 find the swellest lot of hula-hula models that ever put Lucille, 
 Hortense or Marie to shame. Of course they all "point a moral and 
 adorn a tale." But such outlines! The wonder to me is Golightly 
 ever came back. His book reads like the letters your traveled 
 friends should send you — but forget. He danced native dances, he 
 drank native drinks, he rubbed noses, called "Aloha," and he met 
 a black girl three times at midnight on a dark island road. Three 
 times! Though the girl never moved from the spot at all, and 
 he came back to us unscathed, God bless him! Too. he attended 
 prizefights, the races, called on Governors-general, participated in 
 a wedding, and visited Stevenson's tomb and Samoa home." — 
 FELIX SHAY in the FRA MAGAZINE. 
 
 "South Sea Silhouettes tells the story in a classic and graphic 
 way of Rev. "Golightly" Morrill's trip to the South Sea islands, and 
 tells it in such a way that you see the scenery, and talk to the 
 people, and you become, as it were, unconsciously the traveler. 
 The book is certain to have a large circulation. Everyone should 
 read it. It is history, geography and literature combined. It is 
 one of the most unique, one of the most interesting, and one of 
 the most instructive books I have ever read — a masterpiece in its 
 way."— WILLIAM SULZER, EX-GOVERNOR of N. Y. 
 
 "Your descriptions of the various places you went to, the 
 people you met, their customs, etc., are truly wonderful. So often 
 Eub.iects of this nature are made so trite that one cannot actually 
 wade through them. Your book is positively the one exception 
 I have found on the subject of travel." — BERT HUBBARD, SON of 
 ELBERT HUBBARD. 
 
 "I want to tell you how much I have enjoyed your two books, 
 "To Hell and Back," and the one on the South Seas. They are so 
 full of life and written so entertainingly that one feels he is go- 
 ing along with you."— REV. WALTER E. BENTLEY, National Sec- 
 retary of Actors' Church Alliance. 
 
 "Your books should be suppressed by the Federation of La- 
 bor. As an antidote for work they are unequalled. My wife and 
 daughters have let me eat cold lunches ever since your books fell 
 into their hands — another count against you." — J. C. STIERS, 
 County Supt. of Schools, Harrison County, Cadiz, Ohio. 
 
 iiiiii 
 
 "Your books are like some of the styles one sees on Michigan 
 Avenue. They certainly are not troubled with 'low visibility.' " — 
 CLIFTON D. GRAY, Editor of CHICAGO STANDARD. 
 
 lllillliiliill 
 
 "South Sea Silhouettes was so interesting that I sat up all 
 night to read it." — DWIGHT ELMENDORF, World-traveler and 
 Lecturer. 
 
 "Your books should be on every train and news-stand. They 
 are 'punchv,' full of keen wit and make mighty fine and easy 
 reading." — BERT LEVY, Artist and Writer. 
 
"To Hell and Back" 
 
 My Trip to South America 
 
 By REV. GOLIGHTLY MORRILL 
 
 One of the Funniest and Most Fearless Books of 
 Travel Ever Written 
 
 A PANORAMA OF PERDITION from 
 PANAMA TO PATAGONIA 
 
 Unusual Photos — Drawings — 200 Pages 
 
 QUOTED BY PRESS AND MAGAZINES 
 
 SOME OF THE THINGS DESCRIBED: 
 
 The desert cities, high railways and Inca ruins of PERU; the devil dances, 
 degradation of Andean Indians and ruins of world's oldest city of BOLIVIA; 
 CHILE'S volcanoes, borax lakes, carnage and cruelty; the Straits of Magellan and 
 Falkland Islands; the races, gambling and profligacy of Buenos Aires and Monte- 
 vidio, the Sodom and Gomorrah of South America; the rubber atrocities and white 
 slave markets of BRAZIL; VENEZUELA'S bull fights, revolutions and Pitch Lake; 
 the head-hunters, bigotry and backwardness of ECUADOR and COLOMBIA. 
 
 THE FOREWORD 
 
 "Truth wears no fig-leaf. I intend to tell the naked truth about South Amer- 
 ica. The diplomat dare not, the guest cannot, the business boomer will not, the 
 subsidized press and steamship companies do not, but the preacher who pays his 
 own bills can afford to tell nothing else." 
 
 A FEW OF THE CHAPTERS: 
 
 An English Eden, Pizarro's Town, A Real Devil, Lima Beans, Bully Sport, 
 Curious Cuzco, Religious Rackets, on Lake Titicaca, Pious Orgies, a Door of Hell, A 
 Prehistoric Man, A Live Martyr, Flirting in Santiago, Chile Con Carnage, The End 
 of the World, Wrecks and Whales, Kissers, Buenos Aires Betting, Scene and Obscene, 
 Tango Times, Hell's Queen, On the Amazon, Ballet Beauties, Art Nude and Lewd 
 Church Advertising, Dives, White Slaves, Egret Fiends, "Caram,ba," The Lady and 
 the Bull, Hell Colombia! Smugglers, Ship on Fire, Held Up. 
 
 COVER WITH DESIGN IN RED AND BLACK 
 
 A Bargain — $1.00 Postpaid 
 
 Address G. L. MORRILL 
 
 3356 Tenth Avenue South, MinneapoHs, Minnesota 
 
THE NEW YORK WORLD, one of the 
 
 world's greatest newspapers, devoted a whole 
 page to a review and write-up of G. L. 
 Morrill's book, "TO HELL AND BACK — 
 MY TRIP TO SOUTH AMERICA." It 
 said in part: 
 
 Rev. Golightl^ Morrill is an author oj repute, whose 
 previous Worlds include "Golightl^ 'Round the Globe" and 
 "Upper Cuts." His latest volume^ "To Hell and Back,^* 
 bound appropriately) in black ond flaming red, is a VIVA- 
 CIOUS disapproval of South America. It is dedicated point- 
 blank, to the Devil. There is nothing cut and dried, and nothing 
 mealy)- mouthed about it. Theodore Roosevelt and Elihu Root 
 are among the notables who have recently^ looked over and 
 variousl'^ reported upon our sister continent. South America. 
 But evidently these distinguished tourists missed their opportunities. 
 The Rev. Golightl^ Morrill has now been over the ground. 
 Like another Dante he returns to tell the tale — etc., etc." 
 
 This article was illustrated with colored cartoons by 
 Gordon Ross, picturing Mr. Morrill's adventures and 
 experiences in Peru, Chile, Falkland Islands, etc. The 
 review ended by quoting one hundred lines from differ- 
 ent chapters of the book to show their spice, wit and 
 wisdom. 
 
Golightly 'Round the Globe 
 
 By REV. GOLIGHTLY MORRILL 
 
 SPICY BREEZES 
 
 From 
 
 Hawaii, Japan, China, Philippines, Java, Burma, 
 India, Ceylon, Egypt, Italy, Svs^itzerland, Germany 
 
 200 Pages — Photos — Cartoons 
 
 A Good Book for Bad People 
 
 PRESS COMMENT 
 
 "Easy and Good-Hiimored." — American Review of Reviews. 
 "A Kind of Uncensored Movie." — Chicago Standard. 
 "I Am Reading It With Chuckles of Delight."— ^Z&er^ Hubhard. 
 "A Compound of Snuff and Cayenne Pepper." 
 
 — Benjamin Fay Mills. 
 
 SOME OF THE CHAPTERS: 
 
 A Prize Fight, Noah's Ark, Rag Dances, Ship-Bored, Sleepy 
 Religion, Geisha Girls, The Yoshiioara, Altogether Baths, 
 Making Opium, In Jail, Beastly Benares, My Native Bath, 
 Caryial Caves, Captain Cupid, Naughty Naples, Cainera Curse, 
 Noisome Cologne, The Tipping Habit. 
 
 CLOTH-BOUND, BLUE AND GOLD, $1.00 POSTPAID. 
 G. L. Morrill, 3356 10th Ave. S., Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
MORRILL 
 
 TRAVELOGUES and LECTURES 
 
 WITH OR WITHOUT SLIDES AND MOVING PICTURES 
 
 " The next best thing to traveling around the world is to hear G. L. Morrill tell 
 about it in his pithy, punchy, rapid-fire way. " 
 
 — E. M. NEWMAN. Noted Globe-Trotter and Lecturer 
 
 — Some Subjects 
 
 Abraham Lincoln 
 
 America's Uncrowned Queen 
 
 Art and Christianity 
 
 Alaska 
 
 Argentina 
 
 Australia 
 
 Alhambra and Spanish Bull Fight 
 
 Along the Mediterranean 
 
 Banff— Laggan — Field — Glacier 
 
 Brother Jonathan 
 
 Belgium and Waterloo 
 
 British Honduras 
 
 Brazil 
 
 Burma 
 
 Bolivia 
 
 Battle of the Books 
 
 Buried Cities 
 
 Churches of Asia Minor 
 
 Constantinople 
 
 Cranks 
 
 Colorado, Pike's Peak or Bust 
 
 Camping in the Yellowstone 
 
 Cuba and Her Future 
 
 China 
 
 Costa Rica 
 
 Colombia 
 
 Chile 
 
 Ceylon 
 
 Cruising with Columbus 
 
 Dances Far and Near 
 
 Does Death End All ? 
 
 to Choose From— 
 
 Diplomuts 
 
 Decoration Day 
 
 Down the Rhine 
 
 Egypt 
 
 Elbert Hubbard and the Roycroft 
 
 Flying Dutchman 
 
 Fakes and Fakirs 
 
 Ferrer, the Masonic Martyr 
 
 Fiji and Cannibalism 
 
 Falkland Islands 
 
 Florida 
 
 George Washington 
 
 Greece 
 
 Girl Graduates 
 
 Golden Fleece 
 
 Germany, Her Music 
 
 Guatemala 
 
 Hamlet's Home 
 
 Hobbies 
 
 Holy Land on Horseback 
 
 Holland 
 
 Hungary and Her Heroes 
 
 Hawaii 
 
 Hotels Around the World 
 
 Italy and Her Art 
 
 India 
 
 Immigration 
 
 Jerusalem 
 
 Japan 
 
 Java 
 
 CONTINUED ON NEXT PAGE 
 
MORRILL 
 
 TRAVELOGUES and LECTURES 
 
 WITH OR WITHOUT SLIDES AND MOVING PICTURES 
 
 (CONTINUED) 
 
 Land of the Midnight Sun 
 Life Among the Russians 
 Life's Music Lesson 
 Life's School 
 Lisbon, Old and New- 
 Murderous Mexico 
 Masonic Shrines 
 Morrill in the Alps 
 Musical Minister 
 My Old Kentucky Home 
 Marriage 
 New Woman 
 New Zealand 
 Nicaragua 
 
 Nassau and the Bahamas 
 Notes of a Pianist — L. M. Gott- 
 
 schalk (illustrated) 
 On the Mississippi 
 Ould Ireland 
 
 Old World Castles and Cathedrals 
 Our Canadian Cousin 
 Peru 
 
 Philippines 
 
 Paris and La Belle France 
 Panama Canal 
 
 Porto Rico and the West Indies 
 Pig- Headed People 
 Patriotism 
 Quacks 
 
 Yellow Journalism 
 
 Yosemite 
 
 Staging Thru England 
 
 Scottish Scenery 
 
 Slum Society 
 
 Sweden the Beautiful 
 
 Spanish Honduras 
 
 Samoa and Stevenson's Home 
 
 Salvador 
 
 School and Church Bells 
 
 Tracks of a Tenderfoot 
 
 Temperance 
 
 The Theatre and Her Critics 
 
 The Rockies 
 
 The Bug Family 
 
 Thanksgiving and Living 
 
 The Lady Nicotine 
 
 Tasm nia 
 
 Tahiti and Tongan Islands 
 
 The God of Books 
 
 The Ten Commandments 
 
 Up-To-Date 
 The Melting Pot 
 The Grand Canyon of Arizona 
 Trip to Chinatown 
 The Scotland of Scott and Burns 
 Vienna and the Blue Danube 
 Venezuela 
 War 
 Wales 
 What They Did to Mary 
 
 Yucatan and Her Ruins 
 
 F'or Dates and Terms, Address 
 
 G. L. 7VVORRILL 
 
 PASTOR PEOPLE'S CHURCH 
 33Se lOtH /^we. South, TWinneapolis, TVllnn. U.S.A. 
 
/PERFECTION IN MUNSINGWEAK 
 
 MUNSING UNION SUITS 
 
 fine in quality, non-irritating, 
 
 long wearing, perfect fitting, 
 
 • in every way satisfactory 
 
 SUITS EVERYBODY 
 
 those who are hard to please 
 those who are hard to fit 
 those who like fine quality 
 those who seek real economy. 
 
 Offered in seventy-five dif . 
 erent light, medium, and 
 heavy weight fabrics, in 
 every required style and size, 
 for men, women, children. 
 
 More Than 9,000,000 Perfect Fitting Munsingwear Garments Sold Annually. 
 DON'T SAY UNDERWEAR - ALWAYS SAY. MUNSINGWEAR 
 
 For samples of fabrics, style, illustratbns. and name of Munsingwear dealer in yoiir town: address 
 THE NORTHWESTERN KNITTING COMPANY. MINNEAPOLIS. MINNESOTA. 
 
 
^^jffm 
 
 n 
 
 ,ll<lli^i 
 
 fc' 
 
 EABI 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS 
 
 One of the Great Hotels 
 of the World 
 
Studebaker Auto Livery 
 
 Largest High-class Auto Livery Service 
 
 in the Twin Cities 
 
 LIMOUSINES and TOURING CARS 
 
 for all occasions 
 
 Main 1794 
 
 PHONES 
 1 5 th and Laurel Avenue 
 
 Dial 31794 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS, 
 
 MINNESOTA 
 
ON THE WATERWAGON AMAPALA. SPANISH HONDURAS 
 
83 SOUTH TENTH ST. 
 
 The Best of Everything in Flowers and Plants 
 
 Prompt attention to phone orders 
 MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA 
 
 "A THING OF BEAUTY IS A JOY FOREVER 
 
 » 
 
 JOHN S. BRADSTREET 
 & CO. 
 
 INTERIOR FURNISHINGS 
 AND DECORATIONS 
 
 ESTABLISHED 1876 
 
 327 SOUTH SEVENTH STREET 
 Minneapolis, Minnesota : U. S. A, 
 
YE RX A 
 
 MASTER 
 GROCERS 
 
 yyvin 
 
 yv\i 
 
THOS. A. EDISON'S 
 
 Sublime Gift to Man. 
 
 Thomas A. Edison has, as through a mi- 
 racle, re-created music for you. To you 
 
 the master inven- 
 tor has reveal ed 
 the untold wealth 
 of the inner world 
 of music. He has 
 given to us the 
 precious power to 
 speak the sublime 
 language of the 
 soul. 
 
 HEAR THE NEW EDISON 
 
 Minnesota Phonograph Co. 
 
 612 Nicollet Avenue 
 MINNEAPOLIS, :-: MINNESOTA 
 
MEKE MEKE DANCE 
 
 FIJI 
 
Philadelphia & Reading 
 
 Coal & Iron 
 
 Co. 
 
 READING 
 
 ANTHRACITE 
 
 COAL 
 
 108 LUMBER EXCHANGE 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS, -:- MINNESOTA 
 
Saut^fi lltti^rtaktng QI0 
 
 No. 13 Bmtl} i£tgl|tl| ^ttttt 
 
 Minneapolis, 
 
 Minnesota 
 
 PAPER BOXES, ENVELOPES AND 
 
 PRINTING 
 
 HEYWOOD 
 
 Manufacturing Co. 
 
 t20 to K8 Third Street, North 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS, 
 
 l> <i 
 
 MINNESOTA 
 
1027 Hennepin 
 Avenue 
 
 Minneapolis, 
 Minn. 
 
AN HAWAIIAN "PRINCE" 
 
 HONOLULU 
 
Did The 
 Kaiser 
 
 Kill 
 Elbert 
 
 Hubbard 
 
 Because He Wrote 
 
 "Who Lifted The 
 Lid Off Hell"? 
 
 Elbert Hubbard, Founder of the Roycroft Shops, Lost on the LUSITANIA, May 7, I9I5 
 
 SOME say that the Kaiser in his bhnd wrath sent the 
 U-Boat to sink the Lusitania because Elbert Hubbard 
 was aboard, Elbert Hubbard named the Kaiser a 
 " Mastoid Degenerate " and told about his withered 
 arrn and leaky ear. When Hubbard was called to Europe to 
 write from first-hand information for the American people 
 the Kaiser knew what to expect. Then the Sayville Wireless 
 sputtered spitefully — a Sub slipped out from Kiel and the 
 Lusita7iia never reached port ! Elbert Hubbard died, but 
 his indictment of the German 
 tyrant lives ! 
 
 Order the book, Who Lifted the 
 Lid and learn why The Hohenzol- 
 lern was afraid to let the man who 
 wrote it write any more ! 
 
 THE ROYCROFTERS 
 East Aurora, New York. 
 
 ^ Send me a copy of Who Lifted the Lid, 
 for wfiicfi I enclose 25 cents (Forward 
 Postage Stamps, Thrift Stamps or Coin — 
 Use tfiis Coupon. Write your name and 
 address on margin of this page.) 
 
The Leamington 
 
 Minneapolis 
 
 The Largest and Most 
 Attractive Apartment 
 Hotel in the World 
 
 DAVID P. JONES, Pres. 
 
 WALLACE H. DAVIS, Vice-Pres. 
 
 WALLACE C. McWHINNEY, Sec'y & Treas. 
 
 Mil f 
 
 y 
 
 I 
 
 
 Vii/ 
 
 FIRST MORTGAGE LOANS, REAL ESTATE, 
 RENTALS AND INSURANCE 
 
 234-238 Mcknight building 
 
BUY A FARM 
 
 For 20c per month per acre 
 and work for us and pay for it. 
 
 In one of the best Red Clover land sections 
 in the United States — located in Pine County, 
 Minnesota. There is no better land in the 
 state; no better soil can be found anywhere for 
 
 Clover, Timothy, Alfalfa, Silage, Wheat, Oats> 
 
 Potatoes and Vegetables 
 
 WE WILL SELL YOU 
 
 40 ACRES, $ 8.00 DOWN and $ 8.00 A MONTH 
 80 ACRES, 16.00 DOWN and 16.00 A MONTH 
 
 OTHER AMOUNTS PROPORTIONATELY 
 
 We will give you steady employment summer 
 and winter, or you may work on the land in 
 the summer and we will give you employment 
 all winter to assist you in paying for it. 
 When you have the land paid for in full, we 
 will loan you enough money to build and fence 
 it, buy a team, tools and cow. 
 
 THIS IS YOUR OPPORTUNITY 
 
 COME AND SEE US 
 
 U. S. L REALTY CO. 
 
 215-222 Plymouth Bldg. 
 
 •Phones {¥.t#?3, MINNEAPOLIS, MINN. 
 
 P. S. We also pay 6% for six months on Certificates Payable. 
 
PRIMITIVE PLOUGHING 
 
 PERU 
 
The J. H. Johnson Undertaking Co. 
 
 Formerly of the Johnson -Landis Co. and Vail & Johnson 
 
 ESTABLISHED 1SG7 
 
 1900 HENNEPIN AVENUE, MINNEAPOLIS 
 
 Our New Home was formerly a private residence and this idea will be main- 
 tained. WE ARE FULLY EQUIPPED to give greatly Improved Service for 
 Public or Private Funerals. Auto Service. 
 
 Telephones: Office, N. W. Kenvi^ood 104 Residence, N. W. Ken. 73 
 
 We arc not connected with any other firm of similar name. 
 
 HUSSE Y me. HATTER 
 
 Makes Old Hats Look New 
 
 16^ North 7th Street 
 
 Minneapolis, Minnesota 
 
Quality Clothes 
 
 FOR 
 
 Men and Young Men 
 ^=$20 To $50^= 
 
 FINE FURNISHINGS 
 
 Stetson Hats 
 
 llllllliiiiiiiiiiiiiii 
 
 iiiiiiiiii 
 
 /VV IIN IN E M F»0 L I S, 
 
 THOEN BROTHERS 
 
 32-34-36 So. Sixth Street 
 
 Between 
 
 Nicollet and Hennepin 
 yv\ IIN IN E SOT /\ 
 
 HENNEPIN COUNTY SAVINGS BANK 
 
 Marquette Ave. and Fourth St. 
 Resources Over $7,000,000.00 
 
 iNVITES BUSINESS AND PERSONAL CHECKING ACCOUNTS 
 4% Interest Paid on Savings, Compounded Quarterly 
 
 OFFICERS 
 
 W. H. LEE, President W. F. McLANE, Cashier 
 
 David p. JONES, Vice-President H. H. BARBER, Assistant Cashier 
 
 ROGER I. LEE, Assistant Cashier 
 
 OLDEST SAVINGS BANK IN MINNESOTA 
 
The New 
 
 MandariN 
 
 25-27 So. Fifth St., Minneapolis 
 
 **THE TALK OF THE TOWN'' 
 
 A rendezvous of quite unusual distinction — 
 an ideal place to dine. 
 
 — definitely refined, strikingly smart, and by far 
 the most favored of all the better dining estab- 
 lishments. 
 
 — and the utmost assurance in food values and 
 service excellence is a constant feature. 
 
 — in fact, the more discriminating your taste, the 
 more you prefer the New Mandarin. 
 
 Snappy '^:^f|?r ' n 
 
 1 1 if 9^^>^ Dancing 
 
 Urcnestra -f ® 
 
 Note — The MANDARIN never has and never will serve liquor. 
 
 WHITE & McNAUGHT 
 
 JEWELERS 
 
 Diamonds, Watches, Wedding and 
 
 other Gifts. 
 
 506 Nicollet Avenue, Minneapolis 
 
[NDIAN DANCE 
 
 BOLIVIA 
 
BOOK SECTION Booksellcfs 
 
 L. H. WELLS. Manager 
 
 powER-Si Bookhunters 
 BOOK IMPORTERS | Bookbindefs 
 
 Bookfinders 
 
 Minneapolis, Minnesota 
 
 COMPLIMENTS 
 
 BROWNING, KING & CO. 
 
 APPAREL FOR MEN AND BOYS 
 
 NICOLLET AT FIFTH MINNEAPOLIS 
 
 N. O. Welander & Co. 
 
 UNDER TAKERS 
 
 1530 East Franklin 
 
 Minneapolis, ^^^ Minnesota 
 
American Tent and Awning Company 
 
 C. M. RAWITZER, Prop. 
 
 Tents and Awnings, 
 Paulins, Wagon Covers, 
 Horse Covers and Blankets, 
 Auto Covers, Water Bags, 
 Canvas Aprons, and Bags, 
 Sleeping Porch Curtains, 
 Canoe and Auto Tents. 
 
 Cotton and Roll Duck, 
 Lawn Folding Furniture, 
 Cow Covers and Blankets, 
 Feed Bags, Oiled Clothing, 
 Sails, Flags, Umbrellas, 
 Waterproof Covers, 
 Lambing Tents. 
 
 TENTS FOR RENT 
 
 18-20 W. 3rd St. 
 St. Paul, Minn. 
 
 307309-311 Wash. 
 
 Ave. N. 
 Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
 HERE'S OUR STORY 
 
 We aim to make ours a very superior store. Our name 
 is a guarantee of quality and service. Any article bought 
 of us must prove satisfactory. If faulty or unsatisfactory 
 in any way we replace it or refund your money. 
 
 CIRKLER'S DRUG STORE, At Nicollet ^ 6th 
 
 Prescriptions, Toilet Articles, Perfumes and Candies 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS 
 
HOTEL DYCKMAN 
 
 Minneapolis' Finest Hotel 
 
 6th St., Near Nicollet 
 
 325 Rooms All With Private Bath 
 
 Hawaiian and Elizabethan Dining 
 Rooms Where Over 1200 Dine 
 
 Every Day 
 
 Home of the Wonderful Electric Pipe Organ 
 
 Rates $1.75 to $5.00 Per Day 
 
 H. J. Tremain 
 
 Keasbey (^ MsLttison Co. 
 
 Manufacturers of 
 the Highest Grade 
 
 ASBESTOS SHEAIHFNG. PAPER. MILLBOARDS. 
 
 FIREPROOF COVERINGS. ROOFINGS. 
 
 THEATRE CURTAINS. ETC. 
 
 EVE^yUHIJSlG I/f ASBESTOS 
 
 Dial 31126 PHONES N. W. Main 1853 
 
 427-429 WASHINGTON AVE. NORTH 
 
 Minneapolis, Minnesota 
 
VENUS AT THE BATH 
 
 MANAGUA, NICARAGUA 
 
S^S^S^g^S^S^S^ 
 
 MULTI. TYPED LETTERS 
 
 3rs2SE=2SSSS^ 
 
 ,1... ■i . r | .B | i... . ii .»- i -. .. . i. . Jjl.,u,-..,IL^it_. i ]JJ/,.m 
 ■MM^tfiM^MMMiMMiari^liiiidMiaiiMaiiHilt^^*'*- 
 
 i 
 
 i4c/. Writing- '-Addressing and Mailing--- 
 Stationery Printed- - -Lithographed- - - En- 
 graved. Neatly— - Quickly- - -Reasonably 
 
 116 . SO. 4TH ST. - MINNEAPOLIS 
 
 S^S^S^ S^ 5^S??g s^s^s^s^ S^ 
 
 F. BUCHSTEIN Sr CO. 
 
 TRUSSES AND BRACES 
 
 □ Q □ 
 
 113 SOUTH SIXTH STREET 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS, 
 
 MINNESOTA 
 
WARREN & COMPANY 
 
 WmLESALE^GROCERS 
 sP.r.rr"iG4TOFF|E- -J- 
 
 116-20 North Seventh Street 
 
 Minneapolis, ivoi^vr Minnesota 
 
 WE CAN WRITE, COMPILE AND PRINT YOUR 
 
 CATALOG, BOOKLET OR ADVERTISING 
 
 MATTER OF ANY DESCRIPTION 
 
 IN A MANNER THAT 
 
 WILL BRING RESULTS 
 
 ih£ Pioneer Printers 
 
 CATALOG, CALENDAR, AND 
 COMMERCIAL PRINTERS 
 WHO KNOW HOW 
 
 420-422 Sixth Street South 
 MINNEAPOLIS, MINN. 
 
" When we Sa}; it*s OAK, it's OAK 
 
 »> 
 
 Knaeble & Scherer 
 
 COMPLETE HOME FURNISHERS 
 DIRECTORS OF FUNERALS 
 
 Terms to Suit You 
 
 AUTO 45196==PHONES=^=^^=^N.W.HYLAND 196 
 
 511-513-515 Plymouth Avenue 
 MINNEAPOLIS, MINN. 
 
 Union DentisTts 
 
 McKENNEY DENTAL CO. 
 
 243 NICOLLET AVENUE 
 18 Years at This Location 
 
 OM&r 100,000 F»atients 
 
 Best Work at the Lowest Prices 
 
 Satisfaction Guaranteed 
 
 Dentistry in all its Branches 
 
 Force, System and Equipment Up-to-date. 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS. MINNESOTA 
 
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON'S GRAVE 
 
 MT. VAEA, SAMOA 
 
rOX (Si LONG 
 
 Undertakers 
 
 and 
 
 Funeral Directors 
 
 OFFICE PHONES \ ^' s^^^'q?! ^^^ 
 
 13 Fifth Street N. E. 
 Minneapolis, MinnesotOL 
 
 K^iablUhed 1867 
 
 Plumbing, Heating and Gas Fitting 
 
 Setifer and Water Connections 
 
 PK«r>*»« ' N. W. Main 661 
 Phones ^ Automatic 37187 
 
 212 South Sixth Street 
 Minneapolis^^ iv\#/// Minnesota 
 
 Hotel Victoria 
 
 O. H. INGRAM. Manager 
 
 A HOMELIKE PLACE FOR HOMELIKE PEOPLE 
 
 All Rooms Equipped with Phone and Bath 
 
 b^ the Da^y Week or Month 
 
 RATES FIVE DOLLARS PER WEEK AND UPWARD 
 
 Close enough In jor Convenience 
 and far enough Out for Comfort 
 
 Main 2303 
 
 1308 Harmon Place Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
YEMRS ••kino\a/iinc; how/ 
 
 V. A\ORE/\U CO. 
 
 optical specialists ^ 
 
 616 Nicollet Avenue, 
 
 Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
 illlllilllilillllii'' 
 
 Portrait Photographers 
 
 622 Nicollet Avenue 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS 
 
 
 MINNESOTA 
 
WE SELL 
 
 VELIE BILTWELL SIXES 
 
 9 Models— $1440.00 to $2600.00 
 
 F. O. B. Factory 
 "The Name Insures the Quality" 
 
 COME IN AND SEE THEM 
 
 R. C. Smith Auto Co., Inc. 
 
 1601-03 Hennepin Avenue 
 MINNEAPOLIS, 
 
 Auto 33969 MINN. N. W. Nic. 603 
 
 Liberty Tea Room 
 
 WEST HOTEL 
 
 Popular for its Lunches and Table d^Hote Dinners 
 
 Service Excellent — Prices Moderate 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS 
 
NOSE GREETINGS 
 
 ROTORUA, N. Z. 
 
'6he PALMER 
 
 School of Chiropractic 
 
 "CHIROPRACTIC FOUNTAIN HEAD" 
 
 DR. B. J. PALMER 
 
 DAVENPORT, IOWA. U, S. A. 
 
 IN ORDER to get an understanding of the very 
 remarkable cures he saw effected through 
 CHIROPRACTIC, the new science of heahh, 
 Elbert Hubbard investigated the science and took the 
 adjustments personally. As a result of his investigation 
 he said : " Chiropractic never brings an adverse result- 
 Its tendency is to make a sick man well, and a well 
 man better. " 
 
 Mr. Hubbard's opinions are very valuable, inas- 
 much as he was the son of a physician and had 
 studied seven years with the expectation of following 
 in his father's footsteps as an honored, capable 
 practitioner of medicine. In a recent book entitled, 
 " The New Science," Mr. Hubbard made these in- 
 teresting comments about CHIROPRACTIC : 
 
 " The Chiropractor does not pin his faith to any 
 single panacea. He simply knows the physical fact that a pressure of bone on nerve brings 
 about a -condition where the telegraph system fails to act properly. He sees the result, 
 and his business is to go after the cause. With skillful manipulation of the hand, he 
 brings about a right relationship and proper adjustment. He finds the cause and fixes it. 
 The "Chiropractors are not DOCTORS OF MEDICINE, but DOCTORS 
 OF HEALTH, and master mechanics of the Centra-l Nervous System of the human 
 body; from them we get a science of healing which is adding greatly to the welfare, 
 the happiness and the well-being of the world." 
 
 If You are Sick — If You are Worn 
 
 Out or Racked With Disease 
 
 Try CHIROPRACTIC 
 
THE 
 
 DOWNHAM & CAMMETT 
 
 CO. 
 
 Designers and Builders 
 
 Automobile Bodies and Tops 
 
 """ """ m „^i, 
 
 Manufacturers of 
 
 Detachable Winter Tops, 
 
 Repairing, Painting 
 
 and Upholstering 
 
 616-618 Fifth Ave. So. 
 
 I Minneapolis, Minnesota 
 
If you Avant 
 
 High Grade Work 
 and Right Prices 
 
 always send your work to 
 
 Master Cleaner and Dyer since 
 
 1895 
 
 1028-30 MARY PLACE 
 Minneapolis, Minnesota 
 

 FRENCH PEASANT GIRL 
 
 DIEPPE, FRANCE 
 
IF YOU ARE A SINNER GO TO YOUR BIBLE 
 IF YOU ARE SICK GO TO A DOCTOR 
 IF YOUR AUTO ACTS **BAD/^ OR YOU 
 WANT A GOOD MACHINE, GO TO 
 
 PENCE AUTOMOBILE GO 
 
 800-804 HENN. AVE. 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS 
 
O MINNEAPOLIS NOW HAS AN OPTICAL ESTABLISHMENT O 
 
 KINDY-KNAPP, inc. 
 
 719 Nicollet Ave., Opposite Dayton's 
 
 Where the highest standards of prac- 
 tice are combined with a perfection 
 of service and appointment. This 
 concern is under the direct manage- 
 ment of Mr. K.J. Knapp, for many 
 years associated with one of the lead- 
 ing optical establishments on Nico- 
 lett Avenue, And whose expert 
 knowledge and careful attention to 
 the minor details has built for him 
 an enviable reputation. 
 
 KINDY-KNAPP, Inc. 
 
 Optometrists and Opticians 
 a KODAKS. FILMS AND SUPPLIES O 
 
 Daily Photo Service! Let Us Develop and Print Your Films 
 
 N. W. Nicollet 7038 Tri-State 33 929 
 
 A. J. WEI SM AN 
 
 JEWELER 
 
 Watches, Diamonds, Solid Gold Jewelry, Cut 
 
 Glass and Silverware 
 
 LOANS ON DIAMONDS, WATCHES, ETC. 
 
 Tel. N. W, Main 3823 
 
 234 Nicollet Avenue 
 
 Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
]|incoln said: 
 
 ''IVe shall sooner have the fowl b^ 
 hatching the egg than ij; smashing it'* 
 
 'THIS quaint but forceful philosophy of Lincoln's 
 may aptly be applied to banking. The Lincoln 
 National Bank invariably gives the same consider- 
 ation and attention to the wants of the small depo- 
 sitor as to those of the large one, believing firmly 
 that only through the good will and cooperation of 
 its small depositors can it be of maximum service 
 to the community as a banking institution. 
 
 Capital and Surplus $300,000 
 Four Per Cent on Savings Deposits. Safety Deposit Boxes. 
 
 LINCOLN NATIONAL BANK 
 
 Hennepin at Ninth 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS, - MINNESOTA 
 
 FRED W. HEINRICHS 
 
 Funeral Director and Embalmer 
 
 LADY ASSISTANT 
 
 Parlors for Funerals Free of Charge 
 
 N. W. Hyland 664— PHONES— Automatic 45 304 
 
 317 Plymouth Avenue, Minneapolis, Minn, 
 
CHILD LABOR 
 
 ANTIGUA, GUATEMALA 
 
CHICAGO AVENUE 
 
 LAUNDRY 
 
 GEORGE B. ESTERMAN, PROPR. 
 
 2901-2903 Chicago Ave. 
 
 Minneapolis 
 
 Minnesota 
 
 St. James Hotel 
 
 FI^BTTtOOr 
 
 Minneapolis, Minnesota 
 
 Offers Rooms with Hot and Cold 
 Water, Telephone & Shower Baths 
 for 50c., 75c. and $1.00 per Day. 
 
 Absolutely Fireproof — Nothing to burn but 
 the Doors. Strictly a temperance Hotel. 
 
 E. J. COLLICK, Mgr. 
 
 ■■HMm 
 
1 
 
 A 
 
 4^ 
 
 FIRST 
 
 AND 
 
 SECURITY 
 
 wmim 
 
 National 
 
 BANK ' 
 
 % 
 
 s^^^ 
 
 // Sick, Go To The 
 
 LaAvrence Sanatorium 
 
 It is one of the largest and finest private 
 Sanatoriums in the Northwest. Occupies 
 half-block in fine residence section of the 
 city — has four buildings. Staff and equip- 
 ment complete for the best Medical and 
 Surgical Service. W. D. LAWRENCE, 
 M. D., Proprietor. 
 
 Tel. Main 1399 Auto 38 289 
 Address 820 E. 17th St,, Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
n^mw ^A-f^e' 
 
 Opposite Dyckman Hotel |y$ 1^^ TRP 'PHONES: ] J^j^j ^^^^4 
 
 24-26 South Sixth Street 
 
 Opposite Dyckman Hot 
 
 ...MINNEAPOLIS... 
 
 TOM LEE, Prop. 
 
 o^ 
 
 Is the largest, most attractive and homeliJ^e, reasonably priced 
 Chinese American Restaurant in the Northwest 
 
 NOONDAY LUNCHEON 
 
 11:30 to 2 35c 
 
 .'. Dancing, Music and Entertainment .*. 
 
 Our Chow Mein has a wide reputation and the quality of our dishes is 
 
 Beyond Comparison 
 
 SPECIAL DINNERS AND BANQUETS CATERED FOR 
 
 TABLE D'HOTE DINNER 
 
 5:30 to 8 60c 
 
 Drs. STRAND & STRAND 
 
 ♦ ♦ 
 
 ♦ ♦ 
 
 CHIROPRACTORS 
 
 Graduates of the Famous Palmer School of Chiropractic 
 
 AFFECTIONS of any of the following |% 
 larts may be caused by nerves im- m^ 
 
 pijiged at the spine by a subluxated ■ PHONES* 
 » BRAIN vertebra. p 
 
 ^^^^iX^s e MAIN 5540 
 
 Er '"•;s7,S;ir'^ r automatic ssseo 
 
 Adjustments £ 
 
 Will « 
 
 Remove ttie J% LADY 
 
 S CHIROPRACTOR 
 
 HEART 
 LUNGS 
 
 LIVER lA/ill 
 
 STOMACH WW 111 
 
 PANCREAS 
 
 SPLEEN -I- - 
 
 KIDNEYS Cause of 
 
 SMALL BOWEL 
 LARGE DOWEL 
 GENITAL ORGANS 
 THIGHS & l^CS 
 
 E = 
 
 ^IHL or MAN 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS^ Suite 333-34 Loeb Arcade Bldg. 
 
 ST. PAUL — 330 Bremer Arcade 
 
 Phones: Cedar 5007 — Dial 23 142 
 
SHELLED BY GERMAN WARSHIPS 
 
 PAPEETE, TAHITI 
 
Bank With a Growing Banl( 
 
 Ample capital and surplus, together with efficient 
 officers and directors, place this institution in a 
 position to handle accounts of individuals, firms 
 and corporations on a most satisfactory basis. 
 
 You are cordially invited to take up your business 
 affairs with the officers of this bank and join the 
 constantly increasing number of depositors who 
 are sharing in its personal and efficient service. 
 
 Officers 
 
 W. B. TSCHARNER, President 
 
 L. S. SWENSON, Vice-President 
 M. C. TIFFT, Vice-President 
 
 WILLIAM F. OLSEN, Cashier 
 
 THE BANK OF PERSONAL SERVICE 
 
 Located in the traffic center 
 HENNEPIN AVENUE AT SIXTH STREET 
 
 MERCANTILE STATE BANK 
 
 MASONIC TEMPLE PHARMACY 
 
 JACOB JACOBSON, Proprietor 
 
 PRESCRIPTIONS PROMPTLY FILLED 
 
 A full line of Druggist's Sundries, Candies, etc., 
 
 always on hand 
 
 526 Hennepin Avenue (i) Minneapolis, Minnesota 
 
 ■BSPPHRia^HHHIiniilHHBIINI 
 
mmw 
 
 a 
 
 '0 
 o 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 ■. 
 a 
 
 D 
 
 a 
 o 
 o 
 o 
 
 0) 
 
 o 
 n 
 
 ii> 
 
 i» 
 
 m 
 
 SWANSON'S 
 "77?e House of Flowers 
 
 OF MINNEAPOLIS 
 
 - AT - 
 
 912 Nicollet Ave. 912 
 
 Gives unexcelled Flower service to Minne- 
 apolis and the Northwest through its unsur- ^ 
 passed facilities. Accessible— 
 
 Da^ and Night, Sundays and Holi- 
 day's for Funeral, Wedding and Social | 
 Flowers. IV rite for free literature. 
 
 a ■ o a a o ■ ojiBjti oa noQaonofia 
 
 KAYSER & CO. 
 
 WALL PAPER 
 
 '*We Knot£f Hot£f'* 
 
 822-24 Hennepin Ave., Minneapolis 
 
 wmmmm 
 
 iWM«!Ha«*nm«!«ai 
 
 imiHn 
 
Curtis Court Hotel 
 
 laiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiio^^ 
 
 Minneapolis' Newest 
 
 12 STORIES, FIREPROOF, 1000 ROOMS 
 Private Baths throughout 
 
 Beautiful Lobby, Ballroom, Cafe, Shops 
 
 n \ Single, $1.50 to $2.50) „ rA 
 
 Rooms \ Do^hle. 2.00 to 3.50 \ P^^ Day 
 
 T*.U«K««». i N. W. East 67 m- ,^^-11 f T. S. 41442 or 41703 
 
 Telephones ^ y. 5. 41 1 12 ^'^^^ ^*"* { N. W. East 797 
 
 Washburn Undertaking Co> 
 
 LADY A SSISTANT 
 
 W. P. WASHBURN J. A. DONALDSON 
 
 P. THORHAUG 
 
 19 Fifth St. N. E., Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
A MEXICAN LANDSCAPE 
 
 CHARCAS, MEXICO 
 
LOUIS NATHANSON CO. 
 
 g)| RETAIL CIGARS \^ 
 
 SIX EXCLUSIVE CIGAR STORES 
 
 NICOLLET AT FIFTH 
 MARQUETTE & WASHINGTON 
 LOBBY, PALACE BUILDING 
 
 PIPE REPAIR SHOP 
 IN CONNECTION 
 
 1322 S. E. FOURTH ST. 
 501 SECOND AVENUE SOUTH 
 326 HENNEPIN AVENUE 
 
 Minneapolis 
 
 Dr. Shegetaro Morikubo 
 
 Representative Chiropractor 
 
 Suite 321^323—622 Nicollet Avenue 
 
 Minneapolis, 
 
 Minnesota 
 
 EVERY THING ELECTRICAL 
 FOR THE HOME 
 
 A FEW SUGGESTIONS 
 
 Washing Machines, Vacuum Cleaners, Ironing 
 
 Machines, Toasters, Perculators, Irons, 
 
 Stoves, Grills, Etc., Etc. 
 
 IF IT IS ELECTRICAL AND NEEDS 
 REPAIR WE CAN DO IT RIGHT 
 
 ELECTRIC WIRING Q 
 
 STERLING ELECTRIC CO 
 
 29-31-33 SOUTH FIFTH STREEl 
 MINNEAPOLIS 
 
 "Service and Satisfaction with every Transaction" 
 
RESIDENCE p„^ pv,„n»« ' N. W. Drexel 4408 
 
 3636 Minnehaha Avenue ^^^' *^"o"es ^ .j,^ g ^^^^ ^^ g^^ 
 
 McDIVITT & COMPANY 
 
 Funeral Directors & Embalmers 
 
 LADY ASSISTANT 
 
 Odd Fellows Temple Bldg., 2707 E. Lake Street 
 
 t^^^e^^^OUR MOTTO : (^^^^===^^/ 
 
 "The Best Service for the Least Money" 
 
 ?:s^A?fo^'2S^o'f Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
 FURS AND FUR COATS 
 
 AT A REDUCTION = 
 
 Storag^o and Repairing: 
 
 F*hone— INic. :2500 : 
 
 BEN J. LIGHT & CO. 
 
 ^/?e Popular Price Fur Store 
 
 522 NICOLLET AVENUE 
 Minneapolis, Minnesota 
 
 A. E. PAEGEL 
 
 Jeweler and Optician 
 
 iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii fliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiio^^^^^^ 
 
 ^.^Pearl Buyers 
 
 Minneapolis, Minnesota 
 
Above Them All! 
 
 Energy Gasoline 
 
 and 
 
 Puritan Motor Oils 
 
 BOTH REFINED FROM PURE OIL 
 
 By th( 
 
 Pure Oil Company 
 
 Your Home Concern 
 
 Emphatically Independent 
 
 Minneapolis n- ' St. Paul 
 
 You Can't Lose If You Use 
 
 Energy Gasoline 
 
SHOT ON SUSPICION 
 
 YUCATAN 
 
Unexcelled Service 
 Open Day and Night 
 
 N. W. Drex. 1274 
 T. S. 62 074 
 
 LICENSED EMBALMER 
 
 Graduate U. of M. Embalmers Course 
 
 J. E. Bostrom & Company 
 
 FUNERAL DIRECTORS 
 
 Lady Assistant 
 
 Office and Parlors 
 3008 27th Ave. So. 
 
 Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
 C. GERDES 
 
 Groceries & Meats 
 
 1818-1820 Lyndale Avenue So. 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS 
 
 MINNESOTA 
 
 -;>.^;t^J^T E L E P H O N E S ^S:^^^^ 
 
 Automatic 51144 N. W. Kenwood 1421 
 
HILL'S 
 
 DINING AND LUNCH 
 
 ROOM 
 
 LESLIE and ROOD, Proprietors 
 
 PHONES: 
 Dial 37254 Main 2609 
 
 252-254 Marquette Avenue 
 MINNEAPOLIS, :: MINNESOTA 
 
 HEGENER'S 
 
 Barbers' Supplies 
 
 A Full Line of Carvers, Table Cutlery, 
 
 Pocket Cutlery and Toiled Articles, 
 
 Manicure Scissors and Tools. 
 
 207 Nicollet Avenue, 
 MINNEAPOLIS DfaMm 
 
William Weisman Company 
 
 Manufacturing Furriers 
 
 F 
 
 INE 
 
 ASHIONABLE 
 
 URS 
 
 fl There is an air of refinement and luxury about our Furs, 
 which in^antly attracts the admiration of those who know 
 Quality. 
 
 **He*s a wise man who bu^s his Furs from Weisman*' 
 
 508 NICOLLET AVENUE 
 Minneapolis, Minnesota 
 
 I^nt^l Elgttt 
 
 The Home of 
 
 THE THESPIAN 
 
 EIGHTH STREET AND HENNEPIN AVENUE 
 MINNEAPOLIS. :-: :-: MINNESOTA 
 

 W * +S(S«1? - 
 
 .-j;-, -'S-*''S!f«S?'"''^***1i?' 
 
 i i_i c H le; ft ■ ■eiit C3 s ■ «^^:_..___ 
 
 :iiPiliaS 
 
 I 
 
 ^^ 
 
 mmmmm. 
 
 :m^^i^ 
 
 REFINED PLEASURE 
 
 BULLRING, MEXICO CITY 
 
C. H. ELLIOTT & CO. 
 
 Funeral Directors and Embalmers 
 
 LADY ASSISTANT 
 PHONES: T. S. 61-165. N. W. DREXEL 3955 
 
 1839 East Lake St,, Minneapolis, Minn, 
 
 WM. WELLS & COMPANY 
 
 "* Manufacturers of — 
 
 Automobile Tops and Slip Linings 
 
 323 Sixth Street South 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS, :: MINNESOTA 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS BOOK EXCHANGE 
 
 New and Second-Hand Standard Books of All Kinds 
 
 BOUGHT AND SOLD 
 
 JAMES ADAIR, Propr. 
 
 625 HENNEPIN AVENUE 
 Minneapolis, ^^ Minnesota 
 
GERDE AUTO CO. 
 
 "MAXWELL" 
 
 AGENCY 
 
 New Garage 
 Shop and Storage 
 
 iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ 
 
 Satisfactory Service Given All 
 Customers at All Times 
 
 p,,j,„gg( South 7257 
 
 1 Automatic 52 676 
 
 912-914 East Lake 
 Minneapolis, Minnesota 
 
'A Mans House is his Castle 
 
 y} 
 
 CONFER WITH 
 
 HOME 
 
 TECEPHONES 
 
 N vv NIC 90 91 92 93 
 
 T. S. 3Q361 
 
 INC.] 
 
 ,REAL ESTATE. RENTALS. LOANS AND INSURANCE 
 OGDEN A CONFER MINNEAPOLIS, MINN 
 
 offices: 
 
 50I-2-3-4ANDRUS 
 BUILDING. 
 
 SAMUEL CCDNFER 
 
 >y 
 
 ''There Is No Place LiJ^e Home 
 
 IF ITS ALL YOUR OWN 
 
 ''Confer with Confer'' 
 
 And Cease to Roam 
 
 Rarebit Specialties 
 
 FRESH LOBSTER AND OTHER FOOD DELICACIES 
 
 45-47 South Third Street 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA 
 
HUTS AND NUTS 
 
 HAAPAI, TONGA 
 
E. M. Dauphine Company 
 
 FUNERAL DIRECTORS 
 and EMBALMERS 
 
 MRS. E. M. DAUPHINE, Mgr. 
 
 fN. W. Nic. 1440 
 
 T 1 u ) Tri-State 32970 
 
 Telephones: < , ^j^, g^^^g 
 
 613 Eighth Avenue South 
 
 Minneapolis, ^^S^^^" Minnesota 
 
 A. M. Smith 
 
 DELICATESSEN 
 
 Finest Imported Olive Oil, 
 Cheese, Meat and Fish 
 
 249 Hennepin Avenue 
 MINNEAPOLIS 
 
 I 
 
Compliments 
 
 HOME TRADE SHOE STORE 
 
 221 Nicollet Ave., Minneapolis 
 
 EDMUND C. BATES, Pres. 
 
 PEARCE'S 
 
 Where Fashion Reigns 
 
 516 Nicollet 
 
 WOMEN'S OUTFITTERS 
 
 When you want a Blouse go to Pearce's, 
 you get more style and value for the 
 same money. Our Georgette Blouses at 
 
 $4.86, $6.86 and $9.86 
 
 are remarkable for Style and Value. 
 
 The next Dress or Coat that you want 
 think of Pearce's 
 
$OFTENS^.^« ^■-»,-,^ SAVES 
 
 THE COMPOUND ^"E 
 
 WATER ^^^' ■^^^^■^■^ HANDS 
 
 ^ Harmless alike on hands or delicate fabrics. R. L. is 
 wonderful for Chiffon and Georgette Crepe Waists, 
 Laces and Silks, Woolens and Flannels, as it leaves 
 them Dainty, Fresh and Clean. 
 
 ^ R. L. Does Not Shrink Anything. 
 
 ^ R. L. Rinses freely. Very effective in Kitchen and 
 Laundry. Contains the Essence of the Lemon, the 
 Oil of the Cocoanut, and other active cleansing 
 agents combined in a soft white powder. 
 
 ^ Full directions on package at your grocers. 
 
 ROYAL LEMON PRODUCTS COMPANY 
 
 Minneapolis, 
 
 St. Paul, 
 
 Minnesota 
 
AWKWARD SQUAD 
 
 BELIZE, BRITISH HONDURAS 
 
FRANK W. PETERSON 
 
 DRUGGIST 
 
 MANUFACTURING PHARMACIST 
 
 Wholesale and Retail 
 
 Locodyne, Citrosal, Glycodyne, Digestonique 
 
 PHONES: T. S. 51240. N. W. SO. 5270 
 
 Cor. Lake St. and Chicago Ave. 
 MINNEAPOLIS, MINN. 
 
 MooKE, Tekwilligek, Inc. 
 
 ®1|^ iFlom^r ^liop 
 
 FLORAL DESIGNS FOR ALL 
 OCCASIONS 
 
 5 SOUTH SEVENTH STREET, MINNEAPOLIS 
 
 MOE & ALBINSON 
 
 Undertakers and Embalmcrs 
 
 PHONES '^- W- N^^^LL^'T ^^^^ 
 
 i I • o* olOlo 
 
 1301-3 WASHINGTON AVENUE SO. 
 
 Minneapolis, r'^ss»=J' Minnesota 
 
Compliments of 
 
 JOSIAH H. CHASE 
 
 RENTZ BROS. 
 
 Manufacturing Jewelers 
 
 Engravers -Medalists -Gold & Silversmiths 
 Cutters of Agates and Precious Stones 
 
 29 So. Fifth Street, Minneapolis 
 
 THE CENTURY NEWS STORE 
 
 HEADQUARTERS FOR MECHANICAL BOOKS AND RADICAL 
 
 LITERATURE 
 
 H. R. WEINBERG & /?. M. BEAVER 
 
 Subscriptions Taken for All Periodicals 
 
 at Lowest Rates 
 
 6 So. Third Street, Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
Everett Pianos 
 
 — are to be found in hundreds of our 
 Best Minneapolis Homes. 
 
 W^HEN \^ ANTING A PIANO— SEE 
 
 \ 
 
 1 
 
 ELMER BROOKS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 THE BROOKS PIANO CO. 
 
 Ill So. llth St., 
 
 Minneapolis Minnesota 
 
'HtflKm- 
 
 SHOT ON SUSPICION 
 
 YUCATAN 
 
Unfailing Courtesy, together with sterling up- 
 right business principles, is the platform upon 
 which is based our thirty years' successful career. 
 
 ^1^ AMOR & CO. ^> 
 
 Funeral Directors 
 
 829 Second Ave. So., Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
 Taylor & Watson 
 
 WALL PAPER, PAINTING AND DECORATING 
 
 28 Eio^hth Street, South 
 
 THE OLDEST WALL PAPER SHOP IN TOWN 
 
 Established 1879 
 
 Main [^36 
 
 Dial 3 1 996 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS, 
 
 MINNESOTA 
 
MASSOLT BOTTLING CO. 
 
 SOFT DRINKS 
 
 "Whale Brand" Ginger Ale— Mineral Waters 
 
 128 Plymouth Ave., North 
 MINNEAPOLIS, :: MINNESOTA 
 
 WILLIAM LORENZ 
 
 Phones; Nic. 3775; T. S. 32471 
 
 212 Marquette Avenue 
 MINNEAPOLIS, : MINNESOTA 
 
 J. I. BESSLER 
 
 Locksmithing and 
 Umbrella Repairing 
 
 Main 5034 
 
 628 Marquette Minneapolis, Minnesota 
 
WHAT IS HEALTH? 
 
 BY DR. CHARLES LOFFLER 
 
 Minneapolis, Minn., U. S. A. 
 
 If I am not Healthy, Why am I not Healthy? 
 How May I Become Healthy? 
 
 These Questions are asked by every civ- 
 ilized people, and are becoming more general, 
 because ill health is more common every day, 
 and the hope of recovery less. 
 The Answer was given many years ago by 
 Hippocrates, the father of medicine, when he 
 said, " As the Blood, so is The Man ; He is 
 Just as Weak, Just as Strong." 
 Success is measured by the power of endur- 
 ance plus proper application. The normal 
 individual has normal endurance and normal 
 ability to apply his talents. 
 Failure is far more common among those who 
 are not physically competent, than among the 
 healthy, since it takes a strong body to support 
 a strong mind. 
 
 Good Health is natural — ill health is un- 
 natural. Health is the very foundation of sue 
 cess, no matter what the undertaking. He who 
 hopes for success, if healthy, should live so as 
 to maintain that normal condition, and if not DR. CHARLES LOFFLER, 
 
 in normal health, should first try to re-establish 8th Floor Andrus Bldg., Minneapolis 
 a good health standard. 
 
 The Blood is the life of every individual. It gives us every power. Every normal 
 man and woman has normal blood- One must have a one hundred per cent blood 
 standard to expect to be a one hundred per cent individual. Blood examinations, in 
 thousands of cases, show that ill health is commonly caused and contiuues by reason of 
 blood impairment. 
 
 Scientists recognize the fact that the cure of chronic and progressive disease can only 
 be brought about through blood repair, but have never been able to re-establish a chem- 
 ically normal blood, and therefore most such diseases have been classed as incurable. 
 My Intravenous Treatment, given directly into the blood stream, brings about the 
 necessary chemical changes to establish a normal blood, and thereby gives the blood its 
 normal power of building, sustaining, of repair and resistance. The positive beneficial 
 results obtained in thousands of cases of chronic and progressive diseases, give incontro- 
 vertible evidence that the hope of prevention and cure, of many of the supposed incur- 
 able diseases and conditions, is in a chemically normal blood. 
 
PASSENGER TRAIN BURNED BY BANDITS— NEAR 
 
 VICTORIA, MEXICO 
 
Colonial Cafeteria 
 
 SELF SERVICE CAFE 
 
 ''JUST A LITTLE BETTER'' 
 
 (n^'^^J>2^ South Sixth Streete^^'^u> 
 
 Minneapolis, 
 
 OPPOSITE DYCKMAN HOTEL 
 
 oo 
 o 
 
 Minnesota 
 
 Compliments of eM e^ 8^ 
 
 J. Warren Roberts 
 
 RESIDENCE 
 THE LEAMINGTON 
 
 FUNERAL DIRECTOR 
 
 913 FIRST AVENUE SOUTH 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS 
 
 JOHN S. ALLEN 
 
 :j E \A/ E L E r: 
 
 Watches, Diamonds, Jewelry, Silverware, Etc. 
 
 Watches Cleaned, $1.25 Main Springs, $1.25 
 
 No. 110 METROPOLITAN BUILDING 
 
 Ground Floor 
 
 Telephone Main 3150 MINNEAPOLIS, 
 
 MINNESOTA 
 
 — — — .^"^i^i^— .^— —^— ^^^» 
 
MAYAN RUINS 
 
 UXMAL, YUCATAN 
 
Robt. J. Seiberlich 
 
 State Agent 
 
 The Fidelity Mutual 
 Life Insurance Co. 
 
 OF PHILADELPHIA 
 
 Phones: T. S. 38 064 N. W. Nic. 1 108 
 
 704-706 Andrus Building, Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
 Compliments of 
 
 N. L. ENGER 
 
 UNDERTAKER 
 
 N. W. Main 486— PHONES— Automatic 37030 
 
 412 Cedar Avenue, 
 
 Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
',-'■■ ■^"•H»< <i^--^''^,r' iwSS-fi* '^S«.".i»«^<^' 
 
 '\^^ff^ ' ^y 
 
 P^"^- 
 
 EARTHQUAKE RUINS OF CARNEGIE PEACE PALACE 
 
 CARTAGO, COSTA RICA 
 
H6e BIJOU 
 
 Minneapolis* Largest Movie Theatre 
 
 7*roducing all the best J^eature^ 
 
 SpeciaLl Mvisic PrograLm for Each 
 
 Production 
 
 Admisston 5 and lO Cents 
 
 FUNERAL PARLORS 
 
 THE EARL UNDERTMING CO. 
 
 Minneapolis, 
 
 Minnesota 
 
-^¥^^¥«"yt' 
 
 THEATRE OF BACCHUS 
 
 ATHENS, GREECE 
 
T. S. 53628 N. W. South 1 793 N. W. Kenwood 550 
 
 %d.^ ^- 
 
 Burd P. Johnston & Co. 
 
 FUNERAL DIRECTORS 
 and EMBALMERS 
 
 MRS, JOHNSTON, LADY ASSISTANT 
 
 PARLORS 
 
 12 WEST LAKE ST. Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
 3020 HENNEPIN AVE. 
 
 Drink Pure 
 
 Glenwood- Ingle wood 
 
 Spring Water 
 
 913 Hennepin Ave., MINNEAPOLIS, MINN. 
 
 ma 
 
TOWER OF CONSTANTINE 
 
 CONSTANTINOPLE, TURKEY 
 
z/tNjcolletave. 
 minneapolis, minnesota 
 
 Ladies' Outer Apparel 
 
 OF THE BETTER SORT 
 
 Combining- 
 
 STYLE, 
 
 QUAUTY 
 
 and ECONOMY 
 
 THE LEE 
 
 Modern Undertaking 
 
 Proprietor, R. P. LEE 
 
 Auto. 33707 Ken. 4600 
 
 Nicollet Ave. at W. 15th St. 
 MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA 
 
INSURRECTOS ARRESTED 
 
 HAVANA, CUBA 
 
Imported Woolens%^&^'^^&. 
 
 ^>1 Tailoring and Workmanship that hv^ 
 
 ^N "Quality" Clothes Should Have K^ 
 
 WM. L. WOLFSON 
 
 F'inest yyVe^n's TTailor 
 
 33 South Fourth St., Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
 Gentlemen 's Suits and Overcoats 
 to Order $50.00 to $100.00 
 
 There is a Reason for My Prices : 
 YOU GET WHAT YOU PAY FOR 
 
 NICKBL^S & SMITH 
 
 REAL ESTATE, RENTALS, 
 LOANS AND INSURANCE 
 
 Sll Nicollet Avenue 
 
 MINNBAPOI.IS, MINNBSOTA 
 
'888" LABOR MONUMENT 
 
 MELBOURNE. AUSTRALIA 
 
Fin e Fxi r^ B. R. MENZEL ^ CO. 
 
 y(y TIM « »14KK W[^ 
 
 X O R iC\ <3 
 
 ■/\ IN !::>: 
 
 RER A I R I NG 
 
 qO Manufacturers Oq 
 O and Dealers in O 
 
 n 
 
 ''Furs of Known Quality 
 
 For Value and Service 
 comparison will prove this 
 
 FROM THE CHEAPEST THAT'S GOOD 
 TO THE BEST THAT'S MADE 
 
 54 So. Seventh St, 
 
 Minneapolis, Minn., 0pp. Radlsson Hotel 
 
 Everything Worn 
 
 BY THE 
 
 LONDON 
 
 CHI C AGO 
 
 DETROIT 
 
 MILWAUKEE 
 
 MINN EAPOLIS 
 
 RADISSON HOTEL BUILDING 
 
 Well-dressed Man 
 
 EXCEPT HIS SHOES 
 
 PRODUCTIONS OF 
 
 WELCH, MARQETSON & CO., 
 
 VIRQOE, MIDDLETON & CO., 
 ALLEN, SOLLY & CO., 
 
 LLOYD, ATREE & SMITH, 
 
 LONDON, ENG. 
 LONDON REPRESENTATIVES, EST. 1779 
 
 CAPPER, SON & CO., Ltd. 
 
 29 REGENT STREET PICCADILLY CIRCUS, W. 
 
 63=64 GRACE CHURCH STREET, E. C. 
 
 EXCLUSIVE AGENTS IN MINNEAPOLIS FOR 
 
 DUNLAP HAT5 
 
 "THE NECKWEAR HOUSE OF AMERICA" 
 
GOING TO MARKET 
 
 CARTAGENA, COLOMBIA 
 
A. G. REINECKE ^; 
 
 <^^^i^^==^^ Maker ot^^^^^>='^^^ 
 
 Fa^hionabte 
 Fur Garment's 
 
 =Fire Proof Storage Vaults — 
 
 puriMirc •> N. W. Main 3573 
 P""N^^ Automatic 34 967 
 
 725 Nicollet Avenue 
 Minneapolis, * * Minnesota 
 
 \M. J. STAPLETON 
 
 ^ FUNERAL DIRECTOR V^ 
 
 Auto Equipment %=.^^fi:^r% Lady Assistant 
 
 OFFITF ^ South 4023 ) T*»Ur^V.r^r»/»c ^ RF^ ' Colfax 635 
 
 o h n c E I j^j^i 52 237 , 1 eleptiones — | Rts. , ^.^^^ 32 703 
 
 T'OS \A/est LaUo St. 
 yyvinnoapolis, TWinnosota 
 
KILLING TIME 
 
 SAN SALVADOR. SALVADOR 
 
>i 
 
 «( 
 
HOME LIGHTING 
 
 The Effect of Good 
 Illumination in the Home 
 
 Have you ever noticed in which home there is the greatest 
 cheerfulness? In the home poorly lighted, or in the home 
 well lighted? If you have not, let us tell you. 
 
 Cheerfulness Comes 
 
 Only to the Home Well Lighted 
 
 Is it not worth your careful consideration when we realize 
 that a little extra light will bring about the difference 
 between gloominess and cheerfiilness? And, too, when it 
 costs no more to bring about cheerfulness, is it not worth 
 your careful consideration? 
 Electric Service has made possible such results. 
 
 THE MINNEAPOLIS GENERAL 
 ELECTRIC COMPANY 
 
•^. 
 
 NicoUett at Seventh, 
 
 MINNEAPOUS 
 
 Our Quality Furs 
 
 COATS, SETS, COATEES, CAPES, 
 MUFFS, STOLES AND THROWS 
 
 Entirely new and different models, featuring such furs as 
 Skunk, Mink, Hudson Seal, Mole, Nutria, Australian Opos- 
 sum, Cross Fox, Blue Fox, Lynx, Squirrel, Muskrat and 
 Raccoon. 
 
 Our Furs are Quality Furs; correctly 
 designed and made in our own work* 
 shop; perfectly fashioned; dependable 
 
 SPECIAL PRICES, TYPICAL OF THE REMARKABLE VAL- 
 
 UES PREVAILING THROUGHOUT THE SPLENDID 
 
 FUR ASSORTMENT GATHERED HERE. 
 
m