People and Places in the Orient

PEOPLE AND PLACES IN THE ORIENT, BY FRANK J. HEWLETT, DIRECTOR OF THE UTAH STATE FAIR AND PRESIDENT OF HEWLETT BROS. COMPANY.

I.— AS THE GOOD SHIP SAILS FAR AWAY. Not so very long ago a sturdy son of old Ireland, with his wife and family, anchored in New York. His first quest was for employment, so he applied to the manager of a large manu- facturing establishment. The manager asked him his name, which he replied was Patrick Maloney. A few minor questions were asked and answered satisfactorily: ''Let me see your references," said the manager. "And what is that," asked Pat. "Why a paper stating your habits, how long you were in your last situation, why you left, etc. — in fact it is a certificate of good character." "All right, Sir, will have it here in a half hour."

Almost to the minute he returned with a clean sheet of paper neatly folded, and handed it to the manager,who read as follows: "He is a hard working man. Has good habits. Does not use liquor or tobacco. Was in his last place seven years, and left it of his own accord to emigrate to America."

Signed "Patrick Maloney." The man of business scratched his head, while a puzzled ex- pression passed over his countenance, as he said, "Didn't you say your name was Patrick Malony?" "Yes, Sir." "I expected to find this paper signed by your last employer, also some of your neighbors and friends, who have known you for a considerable time."

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The reply was brief and direct to the point. "What I see, I see. What I know, I know, and can't I tell the truth about myself better than anyone else?" The manager smiled at the unique reply. Suffice it to state that the son of Erin obtained the situation.

With me it is a labor of love to contribute, the best I can, a few articles for the Era, and if at any time in depicting a few word pictures of people and places in the Orient, my pen — to use an old phrase — should suddenly drop from the sublime to the ridiculous, I trust that you will forgive me and remember the words of my Irish friend.

Just imagine you are in San Francisco and rushing with a large concourse of people to the Pacific Mail Docks, where the S. S. Siberia, a fine ship of eighteen thousand tons, is chained to the pier, breath- ing like a thing of life, ready to sail across the Pacific. There is something so fascin- ating about the sailing of a great steamer, that it has not failed to Frank J. Hewlett. draw a crowd, every time, for the last century. People go to see friends off, ostensibly, but there are thousand who go merely to see the ship off, for a great steam- ship is about the most majestic creation of man. That man can take a mass of eighteen thousand or twenty- eigth thousand tons of steel, loaded with rich freight and with hundreds of human lives, and just by the ringing of a bell, now and then, direct it out of port and across the sea, is a triumph so splendid that it is not a wonder that it is a perpetual attraction to the men on shore. The fact that it is a mass as big as the ark which Noah built to save all the human beings who heeded his warning, and the living things necessary to replenish the earth after the deluge, also that

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the brains of two or three men are going to take it out to sea and that things are so closely figured that we can tell almost to an hour when she will reach port on the other side, is the charm which draws men. It is such a triumph of mind over matter that they are never satiated with watching it. It is sailing day. All the freight, except what is perishable has been passed through a cavern-like opening in the liner's side. The slings that yesterday carried flour, sewing machines, phono- graphs, and other products of Yankee industry, are now swinging from wharf to ship ladened with rugs, trunks, and suit cases plas- tered with labels of every color and description advertising hotels in every part of the civilized world. ,

Every member of the crew, from the captain in his gold lace frock-coat with cap to match, to the humblest of the fore-guards, is dressed in his Sunday best. The Chinese servants, who look neat and clean in their blue shirt-coats, and silk skull-caps, with red tassels on the tops, are anxi- Wireless Telegraph Station, Mount Tamalpais, Cal. ously awaiting the arrival of the passengers to whom they will be "boy" for perhaps many weeks. The first English with which vou are greeted, as he approaches with a smile, is: "What room?" The decks are almost as white as snow and the paint and brass-work are mirrors reflecting the quality of the conscientious work performed. Clean canvas covers have converted the gang- plank into a grand stairway.The State Room doors fastened wide open, show the dainty comforts of the modern ocean- bedroom. The rooms are warmed by electric heaters arranged with a switch. A passenger who wants a temperature of seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit may occupy a room adjoining that of another who wishes only sixty degrees. Each room is also electrically lighted. There are also electric reading lights in each berth, under direct eontrol of the occupant, and so arranged as not to disturb anyone

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who may be occupying the adjoining berth. A private telephone is also installed connected directly with the central telephone office, which commands the entire ship. Our small traps and steamer trunk safely stored away in room forty-five, our large trunk: marked "not wanted" packed in the bag- gage room, we are once more at liberty to take a trip around the decks. It is only an hour before sailing time. The throngs that crowd the liner's deck Marine Exchange Summit of Mt. Tamal- pais, California. are divided into groups, from each of which bubbles a stream of animated conversation. In the center of each group are the travelers or party of travelers sur- rounded by friends or relatives as the case may be, who came to say good-bye, and who are pouring forth farewell advice, taking notes of parting requests, or sending messages to friends in some far land where the travelers expect to visit.

There is a sister pleading with a brother who is about to depart for Manila. You can tell by his eyes and gen- eral appearance that he had Seal Rocks, San Francisco. been "having a time" with friends the night before. You can hear her saying, "Oh, Tom, please don't taste a drop while you are away. Promise now, it will make us all so happy." A little further along the same deck you hear from the lips of a pretty girl "Bye-bye Molly, remember all letters, no postals." Messenger boys rush up and down the gang-plank bearing flowers, boxes of chocolates and other remem- brances from friends unable to participate in the good-bye cere- mony. Every table and desk in the writing and reception rooms is

occupied by men and women, writing frantically on letters that will be brought ashore and mailed by the pilot, who leaves the good ship when he has seen her safely on the bosom of the Pacific. More passengers and their friends are arriving every minute. More violets, carnations, and other flowers on which California has prided herself, are being strewn everywhere to perfume the gentle breeze that is wafted across the bay. The crowds on deck are fast get- ting packed together until the broad promenade is crowded from

rail to bulk-head.

Lune Point and the Golden Gate from Land's End, San Francisco, ShowiDg U. S. Cruiser, 'California'' going to sea.

Like a clap of thunder from a clear sky a gong is heard. All know what that means. The noise begins on the lower deck and travels with increasing volume until the Chinese gong beater sent forth to announce the approach of the sailing hour, has chimed his message into every ear. A few moments later there arises above the still ringing echoes of the gong a voice that resembles the one belonging to the red-waisted speeler heard at the last Utah State Fair. "Visitors all ashore— all ashore — all ashore."

The incessant clanging of the gong brings all light and trivial matters to a close, while the earnest good-byes are now in order. The warning is constantly repeated, and many a bashful lover sum- mons up the courage to kiss the lips on which before he only gazed, when her eyes seemed turned elsewhere. That gong-inspired

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courage has brought many a long courtship to a successful close, for the deck is Cupid's own particular preserve, and the gong one of his methods of luring victims within range of his love-shaft You may near the last words, "We will write every day and twice on Sundays." They are now scrambling by the score for the gang- plank. One sweet little maid of fifteen with tears running down her cheeks is making an almost futile attempt to force her way back to dear ones. You can hear her voice above the din, "I will kiss you all before I go."

S. S. "Siberia," upon which Mr. Hewlett sailed.

All are in the covered warehouse on the pier now. The hard- hearted laborers are slamming the sliding doors, thus shutting out the last view of the loved ones. Suddenly there is a rush for the rear end where the last peep may be had. A dozen blue-coated policemen follow them to keep order and avert accident. Handker- chiefs are waving, flowers thrown that drop into the water. At the lower openings to the steerage Chinese are pelting rice, and prayers on bits of white paper. A prancing team drawing a wagon at a furious rate, defying all warning signs "Walk you horses" rattles down the wharf. The big Irish policeman at the last gang-plank sings out, "Out thur way fur office mail. " Stevedores rush the bags and packages into the ship. For a moment there is a lull. Watches are con-

suited. Two minutes more. A company official at the head of the gang-plank looks up at the bridge where the noble captain stands, waiting to assume the important work, that years of hard training have fitted him for, to take the big ship across the Pacific to Hongkong, China, and back through the Golden Gate to San Francisco. You can tell by the expression on his face that he fully realizes the responsibility placed upon him. He will be king in a miniature kingdom. His word is as the written law, and in a few days he may be loved or hated by his subjects. The time is up. "Let her go," is shouted through a mega- phone. The big ropes that have held her to the shore for the last few days splash into the water. Sounds from a bridge telegraph are now heard, followed by a whirr of machinery and swish of water as the great propeller begins to churn. From the brass throat of the siren comes a tremendous and prolonged blast. It is the voice of the liner announcing to the big boats, gasoline launches and smaller craft, "Clear the way!" That parting blast puts a final quietus on conversation be- tween ship and shore. Men and women are sobbing, losing all restraint over their feelings as the loved ones are slowly fading away. The liner gradually settles down into the deeper water beyond the wharf. The men who loaded her watch with critical eyes for indications as to whether her immense cargo and precious freight have been properly distributed or not. If they have, she will have a much smoother voyage. The whistle toots again, this time thrice by way of parting salute. Her ensign is dipped,and her voyage to all appearance is begun. She glides gracefully along into the stream for probably a thousand yards or more, then the mach- inery stops and the ship is brought to a standstill. A steam launch is being loaded at the pier. The same bustle and confusion pre- vail again only on a smaller scale. It is the last chance for belated

passengers. Uncle Sam's mail bags that have been filledjat the last moment, are tossed aboard. A covered wagon loaded down with Chinese, rattles right to the end of the pier, and about two dozen of them, with their bags and baggage are fired, without ceremony into the hold of the little launch. They are a mournful looking crowd, and no wonder, for their fondest hopes have been blasted. They are now for various reas-

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ons being returned to China by our government officials. The fussy little tug puffing so hard you begin to think she will explode, is soon alongside the Pacific mailship. Her load deposited, once more the machinery starts and the big vessel is now sailing with majestic gracefulness towards the "Land of the Rising Sun." Field glasses are now being used, as she slowly heads through the Golden Gate. The historic Cliff House, burnt down a short time ago, is now missed, but will soon be built up again on a

larger and grander scale. The Seal Rocks are seen, which are once more nearly covered with seals, and thereby hangs a true little tale. From out of the depths of wild waves and the roar of storm-tossed billows came the plaintive cry of scores of seals, re- turning to their old rocky home beneath the destroyed Cliff

House. After the destruction of that place the animals found themselves driven from their haven, and wandered forth seeking other sections of the shore whereon they might find food and shelter. Recent storms, however, drove them from all parts of the adjacent coast; and as if obeying concerted and impelling forces, most, or all of them returned to their former home, on the rocks, beneath the ruins of the old Cliff House, where countless visitors fed and petted them in past days. We next pass the old brick fort on the headland, the steep bluffs of Point Bonita, and the sharp volcanic outlines of Temal- pais, forming landscape features of the Marine Peninsula to the north, all of which are scanned by the voyager with great interest. They are soon left behind, as the good ship Siberia moves west- ward over the ocean, past the Farallone islands. A little fellow standing near me waved his cap, and opened the valve of pent up enthusiasm, as he realized the trip across the Pacafic had now commenced in dead earnest, and shouted, "Hurrah for Hongkong'"

San Francisco, Cal.

EDITOR'S TABLE.

DEVOTION TO THE CAUSE OF ZION. President Joseph F. Smith expressed his feelings of gratitude to the Lord in the following words, in his opening speech to the great assembly of Latter-day Saints at the first meeting of the annual conference of the Church, April 4: I thank the Lord for all his mercies and loving kindness to-

ward all his people, and, for that matter, for his continued mercy and kindness unto all men. I am very grateful that we have the

privilege of meeting together this morning under so favorable cir- cumstances, possessing, as we seem to do, many, if not all, of the blessings of life, health and strength, peace and the desire in our hearts to honor the Lord by our presence, manifesting our faith by gathering here on this occasion. This is a witness of our devotion to the cause of Zion. My heart is full of gratitude to the Lord and of love for the Latter- day Saints and for the Church of Jesus Christ throughout all the world. To me there is nothing in life that can compare with the great work that the Lord is doing in the midst of the children of men in these latter-days. While it may be said, and it is in a measure true, that we are but a handful in comparison to our fel- low men in the world, yet we may be compared with the leaven of which the Savior spoke, that will eventually leaven the whole world. We have ample assurance of the fulfilment of this thought in thegrowth and development of the cause from its incipiency until the present, for it has steadily and increasingly progressed and developed in the earth from a mere half dozen of men seventy- nine years ago until today the members of the Church may be num- bered by the hundreds of thousands. We have passed through the stages of infancy, of irresponsible childhood, and are indeed approaching the condition of manhood and womanhood in our ex- perience in the gospel of Jesus Christ and in all the conditions incident to, and that are connected with, the growth of the

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Church and the people of God, thus far in the cause of Zion, and also the necessity the people of God are under to uphold and sus- tain principles of righteousness and of truth against all the prej- udices of the world, as well as against their own prejudices, and individual likes and dislikes and preferences. We are learning the great truth that man is insignificant in his individuality in

comparison with the mighty cause which involves the salvation of the children of men, living and dead, and those who will yet live in the earth. Men must set aside their own prejudices, thei- own personal desires, wishes and preferences, and pay deference to the great cause of truth that is spreading abroad in the world. To my mind there is nothing at all in the world so great and

so glorious as the work that the Lord Almighty is doing in these latter days, and I feel grateful that I have been permitted as an individual to take part, in a humble way, in helping to promote the interests of Zion and to spread its cause abroad in the world, from the days of my youth until now. I sincerely hope and pray that 1 may be able to endure faithful throughout the remaining portion of my life. I have lived too long to think of faltering in the least now. I have put my hand to the plow, and it is too late to turn or to look back: and for that matter, there has never ap- peared to me to be any reason at all why I should look back, or why I should slacken my efforts or my earnest desire to spread the cause of truth and to help to build up Zion. Everything has pointed to the justness and righteousness of the cause and made my duty clear to me assuring me of my advancement and growth in knowledge and understanding by pursuing the course that I still

intend to pursue, by the help of God, to the end. I see nothing

to lose by following this course, but I think I can see that every-

thing is to be gained by it. I am determined, therefore, to go on and continue as faithful as I can be to my duty, to the trusts that are imposed in me. As far as it lies in my power, I want to be faithful to the work of the Lord, that at last I may be able to least be give an account of my life and stewardship that will at dead. acceptable to the Great Judge of the quick and the As it has been said many times in the past, "I am for the Seek kingdom of God or nothing." Zion first and foremost. first

all other things the kingdom of God and his righteousness, that with may be added in the due time of the Lord, and in accordance