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THE CONGRESS OF WOMEN.
In journalism we have many bright names—names of women who find it easy now to survive by means of their pen. The late Mary Therese Austin, under the name of “Betsy B.,” achieved fame as a dramatic critic. Adele Chretien is a follower in her footsteps—the one who was represented in the congress lately held.
“Annie Laurie ” is the pen name of one of Chicago’s daughters—the sister of Ada Sweet, but now is Mrs. Winifred Black—a writer on the San Francisco Examiner , who has achieved great things by her powers with the pen. She is a true journalist, like a soldier, ready to obey orders without question, and thus has investigated and made known many a wrong perpetrated upon the public—has improved the methods of the hospitals and set straight many a wrinkle. These articles in some cases are studies of human nature worthy of preservation as history, or for the use of the future novelist to guide him in writing of the present time. Adeline Knapp writes well and strongly. Charlotte Perkins Stetson is a genius in her line, and has developed of her own accord without regard to the taste of the public, either east or west.
Eliza Keithis an industrious worker, who says of herself that she has written “for the San Francisco papers miles of space articles unsigned.” She is better known as “Di Vernon” (her pen name).
Millicent W. Shinn is the editor of the “ Overland,” and surrounded by a coterie of young women who already take the rank as writers of promise, fulfills her destiny like Diana surrounded by her maidens. I wish I had the time to tell you of our story writers, for it is they who have given us our literature.
In regard to the portrayal of the simi-Spanish civilization of California, it is a woman who stands easily first—so says the editor of the “ Argonaut,” who is a critic. Her name is Yda Addis. I can always tell one of her stories before I see the signature.. It moves along with a characteristic snap-of-the-whip in it.
Margaret Collins Graham has many stories of Southern California life now appearing in the “ Atlantic ” and other Piastern magazines. Flora Haines Longhead has written short stories which have made a profound impression upon the minds of the public. She deals in a kind of heroism that must do the right though the heavens fall. There are many more, but I must hasten.
The women novelists known abroad, as well as at home, are Mrs. Gertrude Franklin Atherton and Mrs. Kate Douglass Wiggin. Mrs. Atherton has achieved a style of composition original and strong. Her last stories show a constantly increasing power and grasp, a taking hold on literary workmanship. Her “ Doomswoman” is a remarkable book of semi-Spanish civilization, full of pictures of early days. “Amidst the silence of mountain tops in a snow-storm ” is one of the felicitous images found in her sentences. A quotation is here made of the picturing power of Mrs. Atherton, which she possesses in a high degree: “We were followed in a moment by the governor, adjusting his collar and smoothing his hair. As he reached the doorway at the front of the house, he was greeted with a shout from assembled Monterey. The plaza was gay with beaming faces and bright attire. The men, women and children of the people were on foot, a mass of color on the opposite side of the plaza; the women in gaudy cotton frocks, girt with silken sashes, tawdry jewels and spotless camisas, the coquettish rebozo draping with equal grace faces old and brown, faces round and olive; the men in glazed sombreros, short, calico jackets and trousers; Indians wound up in gala blankets. In the foreground were Caballeros and donas on prancing, silver trapped horses, laughing and coquetting, looking down in triumph upon the duenas and parents who rode older and milder mustangs and shook brown, knotted fingers at heedless youths. The young men had ribbons twisted in their long, black hair, and silver eagles on their soft, gray sombreros. Their velvet serapes were embroidered with gold; the velvet knee-breeches were laced with gold or silver cord, over fine, white linen; long deer-skin botas were gartered with vivid ribbon; flaunting sashes bound their slender waists, knotted over the hip. The girls and young married women wore black or white mantillas, the silken lace of Spain, regardless of the sun, which might darken their Castilian fairness. Their gowns were of flowered silk or yellow