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About The Alliance herald. (Alliance, Box Butte County, Neb.) 1902-1922 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 12, 1904)
i 0 ' U-fc fc snsfBacamcir fjjjtfeteSlfv IRL HALFWAY y1 FrMliailWaWBaiaWWeTBMlal A STORY OF THE PLAINS BY K. HOt'UH. At T1IQR OH T1IK STOHV Of TUli COW MOV J Ci riehttd, 1303, i y V. AtHttfii C Cam.tiif, Atw Yvrk A tMiwWaMHMte CHAPTER XVI. The Halfway House. "Miss Ma'y Ellen." cried Aunt Lucy, thrusting hor head In at the door, "oh, Miss Ma'y Ellen, I wlsh't you'd como out ycr right quick. Thcy's two o 'them pral' dogs out yor a-chaaln' ouoh hens agin nasty, dirty things!" "Very well, Lucy," called out a voice In answer. Mary Ellen arose from her seat near the window, wnence she hnd been gazing out over the wide, flat "prairie lands and at tho .blue, unwinking sky. Gathering each a bit of Btick, she and Aunt Lucy drove away the two grinning daylight thieves, na they had done dozens of times boforo their kin, nil eager for a taste of tills now feathered game that had come In upon the range. With plenteous words of admonition, the two corralled the excited but terror stricken speckled hen, which had been the occasion of the trouble, driving her back within the gates of, tho In closure they had" found a necessity for tho preservation of the fowls of their "hen ranch." "It's that samo Domineck, isn't It, Lucy?" said Mary Ellen, leaning over the fence and gazing at the fowls. "Yess'm, that same ole hen, blame her fool soul! She's mo' bothcr'n she's wuf. We kin git two dollahs for her cooked, an' seems like long's she's erlive she bound' fer ter keep mo chasln' 'r6un' after her. I 'clare. she jest keep the whole lot o' ouah chickens wore down to a frazzle, alio trnipsln 'roun' all the time, an thorn a-follerln' her. An', of co'se," she added argumentative!', "we all got to .keep up tho reppytation o' ouah cook in'. I hain't ask these yer men a dollah a meal not fer no lean ole hen wif no meat ontoe her bones no, ma'am." Aunt Lucy spoko with professional pride and with a certain right to au thority. Tho reputation of the Half way House ran from the Doublo Forks Drove away the two of tho Brazos north to Abilene, and niuchof the virtue of tho table was dependent upon the resources of this 'hen ranch," whosd fame was spread abroad throughout tho land. Saved by the surpassing grace of pie and "chicken fixings," the halting place chosen for so slight reason by Huford and his family had become perma nent abode, known gratefully to many ;travelers and productive of more than a living for those who had estab lished it. It was, after all, tho finan cial genius of Aunt Lucy, accustomed all her life to culinary problems, that had foreseen profit In eggs and chlck ,ens when she noted tho exalted joy Iwlth whfch the hungry cow punchers fell upon a meal of this sort after a season of salt pork, tough beof and Dutch oven bread. At first Major Buford rebelled at the thought or Inkeeping. Ills family had kept open house before the war, and he came from a land where tho thoughts of hospitality and of price were not to be mentioned in the samo day. Yet he was in a region where each man did many things, tho first that thing which seemed nearest at hand to be (Mine. From the Halfway House south to the Red River there was nothing edi ble. And ovor this Red River there camo now swarming uncounted tbu sands of broad-horned cattlo, dri.v'ii by many bodies of hardy, sunburned, beweaponed, hungry men. At Ellis le. now rapidly becoming an im portant cattle market, the hotel ac commodations were more pretentious than comfortable, and many a cow man who had sat at the board of tho Halfway House going up the trail, would mount his horso and ride back twenty-five miles for dinner. Such are the attractions of corn bread and chicken when prepared by the hands of a real genius gono astray on this much miscooked world. , Thus the little Southern family quickly found Itself possessod of a definite, profitable and growing busi ness. Bnford was soon able to employ old In making his improvements. He constructed a large dugout, after the fashion of tho dwolllng most com mon In the cofmtry at that time. This manner of dwelling, practically a roofed-over cellar, its side walls showing but a few foot anove the level of the oarth, had boon discovered to bo a ery practical and comfortable form of living place by those settlers who found a region practically barren of "Vj i ill II fvyJvKxfcw I ti llKjiw w AT THE HOUSE llltlll timber, and as yet uiiBupplied with brick or boards. In addition to the main dugout there wns a rudo barn buiic of sods, nnd towering high above the squat buildings rose iiie frame of the ilrst windmill on the cattle trail, a landmark for many miles. Seeing these things growing up about him, at tho suggestion nnd partly through the aid of his widely scattered but kind-hearted neighbors, Major Huford began to take on heart of grace. He foresaw for his people an Independ ence, rude and far below their former plane of life, it was true, yet Infinitely better than a proud despair. It was perhaps the women who suf fered most In tho transition from older lands to this now, wild region. The barren and monotonous prospect, tho high-keyed air and the perpetunl winds, thinned and wore out the fragile form of Mrs. Huford, This Impetuous, norve-wenring air was much different from the soft, warm winds of the flower-laden South. At night ns she lay down to sleep she did not hear tho tinkle or musjc nor tho voice of night-singing birds, which in tho scenes of her girlhood hnd been familiar sounds. Tho moan of tho wind in tho short, hard grass was different from its whisper in tho peach trees, and the shrilling of the coyotes made but rudo substitute for tho trill of the love-bursting mocking bird that sang its myriad song far back In old Vlrginln. One day Aunt Lucy, missing Quar terly Meeting, and eke bethinking her self of some of those aches and pains or body and forebodings of mind with which the negro is never unprovided, became mournful in her melody, and went to bed sighing and disconsolate. Mary Ellen heard her voice uplifted long and urgently, and suspecting the cause, at length went to her door. "What Is it. Aunt Lucy?" she asked kindly. "Nothln', mam; I jess rasslln' wif thor throno o' Grace or I'll hit. We grinning thieves. all po' weak sinners, Miss Ma'y El len." "Yes, I know, Lucy." "An' does you know, Miss Ma'y El len, I sorter gits skeerod sometimec, out yor, for fear mer supplercaslmns ain't goln' take holt o' heaven jess right. White folks has one way er prayin", but er nigger hain't pray erlone no, mam, jess kaln't pray erlone." "Now, Aunt Lucy,"" said Mary iT.ien, sagely, "there Isn't anything wrong with your sotil at all. You're as good an old thing as ever breathed, I'm sure of that, and the Lord will re ward you If o ever does any one, white or black." "Does you think that, honey?" "Indeed I do." "Well, sometimes I thinks the Lord ain't goln to fergivo me fer all ther devilment I done when I was I'll, You know, .Miss Ma'y Ellen, hit take a life er prayer to wipe out ouah transgrc ehuns. Now, how kin I pray, not to say pray, out yer, In this yer Ian'? They ain't a chu'eh in a hunderd mile o' ycr, so fer's I kin tell, an' they shoh'ly ain't np chu'eh fer cullud folks. Seems to me like, ef I c'd jess know er single nigger, so'st we c'd meet onct in er while, an so'st we c'd Jess kneel down togetheh an' pray com fer'ble like, same's ef 'twus back In olo Vehglnny why. Miss Ma'y Ellon. I'd bo the happiest ole 'ooman ever you did see." Mary Ellen rose and went to hor room, returning with her guitar. "Lis ten, Aunt Lucy," she said; "I will play and you may sing. That will make you feel better, I think." It V.as only from a perfect under standing of tho negro character that this proposal could come, and only a perfoct dlguity could carry it out with grace; yet there, beneath the iloor of the wida-prairle sea, those strango ex orcises were carried on, the low .hrobblng of the strings according with the quavering minors of tho old tlnia hymns, until Aunt Lucy wiped her eyes and smiled. "Thank yer, Miss Ma'y Ellen," she said; "thank yer a thousand times. You shoh'ly does know how toe com fort folks mighty well, even a pore olo niggor." On tho morning following Aunt Lucy's devotional exorclsos that good soul scorned to bo altogothor happy and contented and without any doubts as to her future wolfaro. Mary Ellen was out in tho open air, bonnetloss and all a-blow. It was a glorious, sun ny day, the air charged with some essence of ilnl stimulur. Tall and slmpely, radiant, not jrt twenty-throf years of ngr. and mistress of earth's best blesRluK. perfect health how could Mary ICllen be and? Chick - chick - chick - chlckeo!" sho called, bending over the fence of tl chicken ynrd. "Chick, chick, cliic'i!' "I'll bo tlmh fi-ffkly wit thei ten . Miss Ma'y ICIIcn " called out Auiii Lucy from tho kitchen. And" pres ently she emerged and joined her mist rean nt the corral. "Aunt Lucy," said Mary Ellen, "do you suppose wo could over raise n garden? 1 wns thinking. If wo had a lev peas, or beans, or things like that, you know " "Ub-huli!" "And do you suppose a rose' bush would grow a real rie bush, over by the side of the house?" "Law, no, chile, whut you tnlkln' 'bout? Nolhln' hain't goln' to grow yer, 'leas'n hit's a little broom conn, or some o' that nlfahifew, or that aoht it things. Few beans might, ef we wortered 'em. My Inn!" with a sud den Interest, as she grasped tlto thought, "whut could I git fer right fralsh beans, real string beans, I does wondeh! Sakes, ef I c'd hov string beans an' tipple pics, 1 shoh'ly c'd make er foh'lune, right quick. String beans why. law, chile!" "We'll have to think about this gar den question some day," said Mary Ellon. She leaned against the corral post, looking out over the wide' ex panse of the prairie round about. "Are those our antelope out there, Lucy?" she asked, pointing out with care tho few tiny objects, thin nnd knlfollke, crowned with short black forking lips, which showed up against tho sky lino on a distant ridge. "I think they must be. I haven't noticed them for quite a while" "Yass'm," said Aunt Lucy, after a judicial look. "Them blame I'll goats. Thass uni. I wish't they all wuzn t so mighty peart un' knowln all thor time, so'st Mnjah Buford he c'd git one o' them now an' then fer to eat. I 'member mighty well how Cap'it Franklin sent us down er quarter o' an'lope. Mighty line moat, hit wuz." "Er Mihs Ma'y Ellen," began Aunt Lucy presently, and apparently with i certain reservation. "Yes?" (To be continued.) WHERE HE GOT THEM. Little Boy's Explanation Embarrassed Cencrous Teacher. At rccoss one morning little Nathan Garowski withdrew to a corner and wept, and the heart of his pretty teacher was moved with compassion. "What's the matter, Nathan?" sho Inquired gontly. "Why don't you play with the others?" Nathan looked up with dimmed oyi's. Dust and tears mingled on his brown f heeks. Ho pointed mutely to his skirt nnd then broke Into a roar: "It was the dress of Rebecca. Me mud dor no money has for buy me any ting. I nct'er havo tho troii3er. and tho children the children they stick nut tho fingr on me, and make a laughs. They call me call me a gl-gitl." "Don't mind them, dear." said Alice Harmon with sympathy. "They shall not laugh at you long. I will get you a coat and trousers, too." Sovcral days later Nathan appeared in the glory of a now suit nnd strutted about basking In the ndmlring glances of those who had despised him. His cup of pride was filled to overilowlng when the superintendent came in with the principal for a visit of inspection. Nathan, well in tho foreground. glanced at his garments and looked at the strangers for approbation. "Why, little boy, what a fine pair ot trouserri!" said the superintendent af tably. "Whero did you get them?" Nathan drew himself up to his full height, and outstretched his hand In tho direction of his beloved teacher. "I got them off her," ho announced. "I got them off Mls3 Harmon." Then Alice Harmon, with tho blush of confusion ou her fair face, ex plained: "Tho the children on tho East Side always say 'off' when they mean 'from.' " Llpplncott's. GOT THERE AT LAST. President's Messenger Long Delayed by Senatorial Courtesy." One of the prerogatives of a United States senator is that when ho steps aboard an elevator In tho senate wing of the capitol he Is carried immedi ately to his destination, no matter in which direction the elevator may bo bound or who may be aboard. Three rings of the bell Indicato that a sena tor wants to ride, and tho conductor loses no time In responding to tho call. Ono day last week Mr. Barnes, tho assistant secretary to tho president, stepped aboard a senate elevator trom the ground iloor. In a portfolio under his nrm ho carried a message from the president of the United States to the Congress. "Senato Iloor," said Mr. Barnos, as the conductor shut tho door. Just then there were three rings of tho bell and the Indicator showed that r. sonator wnuted to bo lifted out of tho terrace Tho elevator wont down instead of up, and Mr. Barnes wont along. The sonator in tho terrace only wanted to go to the ground floor. As ho stepped off, however, there was another senatorial ring from the tor race. Tho sonator wanted to go to the gallary Iloor, and the elevator wont there without stopping. As tho car started down thore wcro throo rings from tho ground floor, and again the enr failed to stop at the destina tion of tho president's secretary. For tunatoly for Mr. Barnos, this senator wanted to got off at tho senate floor, and tho congress, vaf ter long delay, re ceived the message from the presi dent. Washington Post. A LAST CENTURY VALENTINE "Emily prone-it this little trifle to ono who she regards." More than seventy-five yours ngo Emily took up hor quill pen and In dainty characters wrote tho dedication on the fly leaf of "Friendship's Offering." In spite of her bnd grammar n glance at tho fad ed and delleuto writing with It ft quaint flourishes nnd aristocratic nuglos is enough to prove that Emily was a fine young lady and that she rifiilly meant at least a llttlo more than sho said. Poor Emily! Her lilies nnd rosos nro long withered, along with tho other flowers which bloomed In the reign of King George IV., to whose "Most Evcellent Mnjcsty" the llttlo morocco bound volume is dedicated. And "ono who sho rogards" has gono also with the rest. Wore they married one day Emily nnd "ono who sho regards"? Or did Emily dlo early of a broken heart, perhaps? Her handwriting looks as if sho might have easily fallen a victim to some such old fashioned malady. And did "one who she regards" lenvo Emily behind and come to the States to seek his fortune? Certainly in some way the book which Emily gave him as a valentine In J82ti found lt,s way to this country and, passing I mm hand to hand, finally turned up on the stalls of a llttlo second-hand book shop In the French quarter of old New Or leans. Tho little book Is spotted with brown and yellow -now; Its morocco cover Is badly marked and torn. But for tho sake of tho unknown but denr and dainty Emily ns well as for Its own It shnll bo cherished hereafter and given such caro as Emily herself might wish for "tho little trifle" which perhaps told a tender secret to the unnamed man who was Its original owner. "Friendship's Offering" Is a fat and sturdy little book of nearly -ton pages. It was handsomely and well bound, as Is proven by the fact that oven to day it makes a gay show witli tho gold rosebuds and scrolls stamped on its back. It was ono of that great crop of annuals which people of good con dltion were wont to send to their friends on tho recurrence of New kYear's and St. Valentine's days. We do Eiich things differently now, Instead of a volume of 400 pages stuffed with stilted verses and tragic tales written by as many lords nnd Ladles nothing less than Esquires being admitted under any clrcum stances we send to our friends a gay enrd stamped out of colored paper by a machine. And we pick up this old volume of "Friendship's Offering" and laugh as we look over the tnblo of contents. But poor Emily's long forgotten love nffalr Is not the only nnclont momory revived by a glance at tho llttlo book. Burled In its table of con tents nre tho names of twenty peo ple who In their day wore famous as literary lights, but who havo long sinco flickered out Into oblivion. Who remembers Monn, Eliza, Caro llno and tho rest, whose 'Legendary Stanzas," "Romantic Tales," and "Lines to a Wreath of Dead Flowers" moved Emily nnd her sisters of the 1820s to tears? Who remembers Ber nnrd Barton, the Qunker poet and friend of Lamb? Least of all, what modorn reader would follow him ns for half a dozen pages or nioro he "Treads with slow and mournful steps the loved and lonely shore?" Lord Byron died less than two yenrs before this volume of "Friendship's Offer ing" was printed, and it Is pretty full of newly found verses by his Lord ship. Mr. Washington Irving sends some verses by his lato Iordshlp, ? "nvlrnntnil liv lm fnntlnmnn frnm tlin album of Captain Mcdwln," nnd It only needs a glance at the first line "Bo It so wo part forever" to recog nize tho true Byronlc flavor. Lady Caroline Lamb, who had been separated from her husband tho yenr before, and whose Intrigues with I.ord Byron wero still familiar, "extracted from her album" another sot of verses by his late Lordship, tho perusal of .which at this date is likely to provoke a smlio of nmusement they nro so typical of tho strained and grandilo quent poet. In all tho emphasis and extrava gance of Italics and capital letters, Lord Byron implores Lady Caroline to let him go and. Lady Caroline appar ently takes a malicious pleasure In printing tho verses by way of showing that tho poet was much in love with her. Slnco pi 111 tlio vulturo tears my heart I,ot me tills iiRuny rnilnre, Not tbo O! doureHt us tliou art! lu merry Clnrn, lot us pari! Who is writing poetry of this kind iw And If such nootrv wero writ- -iLXt? now ten, who would read It? There Is ono papor In "Friendship's Offering" which might well furnish a text for some ono who Is anxious to accuse Dr. Connn Doyle of plagiarism In the creation of Sherlock Holmes. The paper Is by the late "Richard Lov ell Edgeworth Esq.." father of the hotter known Maria Edgeworth. It is called "Stage Coach Physiognom ists" and relatos how ono of tho pas-4 songers was able to tell tho full life history of all his fellows by simply noticing such, bits of gesture, man ner or apparel as hnvo since guided the famous detective in his amazing dlscoverlos. Sherlock at his best was nevor moro observing or more aston ishing than this casual coach passon gor who traveled tho same way moro than fifty yoars boforo him. I E. L. Letltla Ellzaboth I-nndon whose pon name Is moro familiar than her writings, was then, lu her 111 IIV MW'Wl''fll, early twenties, and contributed half a doen ti of verses in heroic style. Nor wns "Friendship's Offering" with out names which nro well known even now. Miss Mltford has a sketch, "Tlio Lady of Beachgrove," full of old-fashioned sentiment and ladylike mystery. Perhaps the best remembered tilings about Miss Mltford is tho fact that when she was only ten years old she drew a prize or'$l()0.000 In a lottory, nnd that after hor fnther had squan dered hor money sho supportod him for yenrs by tho earnings of hor pen. Robert Southey, then In nls prime, hnB n long poem In the fat, llttlo book, nnd Miss Jane Porter, whoso "Scottish Chiefs" nnd "Thnddeus of Warsaw," had already been printed, Is ropreaont od by a melancholy tale. Mrs. Ople mourns through a couple of "Epitaphs Tor Frlonds," nnd mod est T, Hood Esq., hns an odo on autumn, quite like tho similar efforts of young poets before and since his time. T. Hood Esq. wnn not yet thirty years old when "Friendship's Offer ing" was printed. Ho had recently left the engraver's trade for literature and hnd hardly begun as yet to malro a unme for himself in his new line. Doubtless if tho "Present Editor" could havo foreseen that his modest contributor was to write "Tho Song ot the Shirt" and "Tho Bridge of Sighs," nnd tho other poems which havo made him fninous, "T. Hood Esq." would hnvo boon given moro prominence In the tablo of contents. But the "Present Editor" Is not Jtoir & AA-MYtfSnJy'aBBBBJc aaV Akfctf t VaBBTVVrSBSBBBL9BBBBBBBBBBPBpiHvBEBBBBBBBBB "LOVE'S WHISPERS" Bouguereau. tho only man who has made such a mistake. Plentifully sprinkled In among the professional poets and literary men and women aro my 1-ords and Ladles. Not for a inomont doos the "Present Editor" forget that ho Is editing a volume of the "gentry and nobility," to whom his work Is dedicated. Tho lit. Hon., My Lord Dillon, has some bad vorses on "Spnin" In tho iJyronlc mantior, and My Ixird Dorchester Is given several pages for a sad and silly apostrophe to an "Astrologer." "Friendship's Offering" Is Illustrat ed with three or four ancient stool engravings, representing such classic scenes as ".'Eneas and Dido," views of Ispahan In Porsln, and illustrations "" "'f IIK',,n.? "nBn;" ... AU ,n aU- Emily a was a valontine well worth having. Since she wrote her quaint dedication on its flyleaf two English kings and one queen have died, nnd tho fourth monarch ils now on tho throne. Whnt Valentino of the prosont year will bo as woll worth looking over in 11)75? Character of Day Changing. Good St. Valontine Is rapidly bolug -transformed from tho patron snlnt of loving hoarts Into the hood of a gift enterprise. If he keeps up the pace oatabllshod for him this year ho will toon rival St. Nicholas. It seouis only yester-year since tho ar.-oroiiH swain gave expression to his feelings in bnrning words, hidden In the depths of pnper lace and Impos sible cuplds, Now tho npproach of the nffectionate old saint's day finds the young man's thoughts, It not his fancy, turning toward violets at ad vanced prices, bonbons In extravagant rcceptncles and gifts quite out of tho old fllmplo spirit of the day. A faslilntmble shopkoeper insists that tho vogue of valentine gifts Is largely a matter of evolution, and that for several ycsri they hnvo been pro lug moro general, more personal aid moro expensive. A young man who usually Is satisfied with sending the object of his admiration flowers, bon bona or books, now selects a gift that will show relations of a more intimate nature. Fiances, especially, let their Imagination and their purse-strings run riot. 4 KEEPS UP CUSTOM 1 OF THIRTY YEARS Jffiv$J94tflr0tfff)lfc Big valentines nnd little valentlnns, fat valentines nnd thin valentines, whlto vnlentlnos nnd red valentines, cheap modest llttlo valentines nnd proud nnd costly valentines every old kind or valentine dangled from shelves nnd lay heaped on counters, while a half dozen clerks wore busy attending to tho rush of Sf. Valfi .a"'a day, There was. tho yn-n g rtm with one bond on monoyin 'w? - $ t buying a whlto $ LUG vnjentli e, w th eyes riveted on a rod ?3 creation. c. urly, he wish ed he could nfford tho red. In a cor ner, looking uneasy, wero two young women discussing animatedly a heap of pink nnd blue valentines. Unnoticed by the crowd Inside tlm bhop, a concli drew up to tho curb. It was a most pretentious "turnout," with coachman and footman in livery, with a pair of restless bays nnd with shining harness mounted heavily with glUtonlng eilver. The footman jumped to tho sidewalk as quickly as his tight-fitting buckskin breeches per mitted and opened tho coach door. An old man, a very old man, alighted and, resting on his cane, made for the front door of the valentine shop. None noticed the newcomer. Every ono was busy with his own affairs. But the owner of tho shop saw tho customer, greoted him pleasantly anil led him to a chair. A valentine tho old man wanted. The proprietor seemed to know his man. A whlto satin box long and wide, was produced, and within lay what was likely the most gorgeous valentine ever sent In New York. It was brilliant crimson, gold mounted and in tho contre of tho pillow, in oil, was a landscapo, an epiblem and an inscription which the writer, from afar,.could not make out, Evidently tho old customer was ploased. For some minutes ho gazed admiringly at the costly piece, then closed the box, smiled approval and left the shop, followed by a clerk car--ylng tho bo to the coach. "What does an old fogy like that no with a valentine?" was asked. The proprietor did not take kindly to the question, "That old fogy has been coming here ever since I opened this store, thirty yenrs ago. The old fogy Is ono of the wealthiest men In this city. The old fogy regularly orders his valentine three montli3 ahead of time and pays as much for them as many a bank clerk earns in a month. And when a woman lias lived faithfully for thirty years beside a man. ihe old fogy thinks she's en titled at least to one Valentino a year." And the quostionor know he had touched a soro spot of the old fogy's friend. Now York Press.