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About The Nebraska advertiser. (Nemaha City, Neb.) 18??-1909 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 27, 1896)
h T fen' i: f.. A i THE NEBRASKA ADVERTISER W. W. SANDKI19, I'ubllihcr. NEMAHA, NEBRASKA. THE NEIGHBORHOOD BOY. tTlio neighborhood boy Is a neighborhood Joy, "With n heart that Is earnest and true; And whene'er he's awny, to bo absent r day, It puta the wholo block In a stew. For without him tho world In a shadow Is furled And loses Its beauty and light; But wheno'er ho appears, then It suddenly clears, As ho sets all our troubles aright. Hot a smllo or a frown comes to our part of town, But what he can give us the facts; 3-ie Is able to bring Just the one needed thing Which elsewhoro our happiness lacks. STolks may move in and out, yet ho knows all about All tho people who dwell In our street, And hn brings us such news as wo lovo to pe'tiso Whllo ho glve3 every Item complete. Ho runs errands galoro to tho olllco and store, " Minds tha baby" and favors like that, And there's none, wo agreo, quite so ablo as ho To find a lost dog or a cat. IIo's a "mother's boy," yes, and that helpB him to bloss Whoever ho happens to meet, And his heart Is of gold and as manly and bold As any ho halls In tho street. If there's anyone sick, he's tho first one to pick And to take them a simple bouquet, And though rich folks or poor doesn't matter ho's sure To scatter kind deeds In their way. The neighborhood boy is a neighborhood Joy, , With a heart that 13 earnest and true; And whene'er he's away, to bo absent a day, , It puts the wholo block In a stew. 1 Nixon Waterman, In L,. A. W. Bulletin. A STORM ON TEE COAST. It was during one of those hot spells ,in the month of June, when between the mosquitoes and the heat life seemed unbearable, that Dal ton suggested n linsty retrent to the pine woods and gulf breezes on the Mississippi sound. ,' "By all means," 1 said. "There is nothing doing in the way of business here; we are tied down by reason of other people's absence to our oiliee desks, so we might just as well take up our quarters until fall by the blue wit ters of the gulf and run in daily to see our mail." Then 1 bethought me of nn elderly nunt of mine, Aunt d'Arville, whom I had not seen for quite a number of years, partly from disinclination, for i preserved a vivid recollection of her unpleasant manners, and partly be cause I had been absent abroad repre senting our house, first in Havre and then in Bremen. "We will go to Seaview cottage," I said to Fred. "I have an elderly relative who will take us in, I have no doubt, and as we will be out of the house most of the time fishing or sailing, the old lady'3 moods and temper will not be in tolerable." Aunt Martha was a caution, T remem bered, in those days of my youth, when Ave were familiarly acquainted with each other. I suppose the poor soul's temper had been soured by her husband's failure and his too philosophical acceptance ol it afterward. His tlcnth later on did not mend mat ters; for like all people of her exacting temperament, and hard, determined, narrow-minded nature, she was te nacious in her affection, if wearisome in a degree in the repressed, vehement, puritanical way she had of showing it, nd her grief, "while sincere and re spectable, was an added infliction to her surroundings. It was a dreary atmosphere in which to bring up her only child, that pale faced little cousin of mine, Adele. I wondered vnguely what sort of a young woman she had grown into. She was a plain child. Her only re deeming feature I could recall was her eyes. She had inherited them from her lather. They were large and brown, soft, and brilliant, and were veiled with thick, dark lases, which threw a shadow on her pale little face, making flier look, I thought, still more frail and melancholy. What had induced Aunt Mnrtlin to marry our consul, Pnul Beremmnux d Arville, no one had been able to dis cover unless it was his brilliant wit, intense divergence from herself and handsome face. Certainly no two people were ever Tnore dissimilar in taste and modes of thought, and I fancy d'Arville, whom I always looked on as a most fascinat ing mnn from his fine manners, versa tile conversation and general attract iveness, soon wearied of his wife's too austere, methodical temper and habits. No doubt he fniled to discover under lier cold, precise manner the fine feeling nnd nature which lay hid and did not reveal itself. So, like many another marriage, they grow apart, and when financial troubles befell she became Iiarsh and bitter, albeit she bore her burdens bravely, and d'Arville drifted into club habits and kept out of the Iiousc. Sea view is a beautiful plnce. A low, wide-spreading cottage, whose windows nnd piazzas are covered with .clambering rose vines and whose green lawn is shaded by gigautic oaks, it in vites to repose. As n boy I would loll on one of the vnrious oenches under their shade, reading some novel or detective story, while the soft swish of the wntcr on the narrow beach just beyond the garden gate played it minor key to the thrill ing incidents to the story. Or I would bit on the grass nnd mend my lines and nets, while little palc-faeed Del would sit curled up with her Newfoundland, in a subdued, silent wny, by my side. 'There Is splendid fishing round the islands out in the bay, a few hours' run across from Seaview," I said to Fred, as I folded and sealed my letter to Aunt Martha, telling her to expect us by the afternoon train. "The old lady has her cranks and crolchets,"I explaincd,as we opened the gate nnd walked up nnrden path be tween trim box borders and flowerbeds and skirted a wcll-kciitluwn,"but she is 'true blue' all through." Aunt Martha greeted us with less frigidity than I had anticipated, and the frosts of years, in silvering her hair, had obviously mellowed some of her asperities of temper. Wo had a dainty, well-served supper, nnd it was only when Fred nnd I sat out on the pier-head enjoying pur cigars over the lapping water of tho bay that I remembered the existence of my poor, fragile little cousin Adele. "Great Scot!" I said, jumping up; "Aunt Mnrthn will never forgive me!" I hurried back to make inquiries nnd apologies, and as I was leaving the wharf which runs out over 100 feet in the shallow water of the bay, reaching nearly to the channel, I saw a fairy vision approaching. A young woman came toward me, walking witli slow, tranquil grace, while holding her soft, pale blue gown aloof from the dust of the shell road. She was bareheaded, and the waning afternoon light seemed to pause, all entangled in the ripples of her golden brown hair. Never had I seen anything quite so lovely as this maiden, whose brown eyes shone with a subdued mirth, while her smile of recognition nnd welcome was beyond all descrip tion. "Why, Cousin Allen, you don't seem to recognize your poor little playmate of years ago. Del is very glad to see you again, nevertheless." In common parlance, you could hnvo knocked me down with a feather, as I instantly told Del, while insisting that a long lost cousin was entitled to some thing more demonstrative than a hand shake. But Del laughingly objected until a renewed acquaintance, she said, would verify the existence of the "rough, good-natured fellow she liked so much." We strolled out on the narrow plank ing of the wharf, side by side, to where Fred still sat, enjoying the cool breezes of the gulf, his cigar, the broad view of paling waters and sky tints, and the faint song of some Usher folks wafted to us by the light evening winds as a coasting lugger beat her way slowly down the channel. Fred's back was toward us, and he only turned, aware of our presence, when I called to him to present him to my refound cousin, Miss Del. That was my great mistake. No one knew better than 1 did Hint Dalton is a particularly pleasing fellow. Everybody likes him. He is clearly one of nnture's favor ites, for besides an uncommonly bright mind, much practical sense, as evi denced by his success in life, Fred hns a gracious and a bright, unaffected wit which makes him a much sought after man by all, and everywhere, at all times and ail places. So it was to be expected that a child like Del, brought up austerely, aloof from the world, mostly in the grand solitudes of Aunt Martha's seashore re treat, would be quickly charmed by so pleasant a fellow. June merged into July, which in turn slipped by with swift, unconscious flight, the pleasant days following each other all too quickly, as we would run into town each morning, look at our mail, step in at the club, then cntch the nine o'clock train and speed back to Seaview to lounge through the cool, sweet evenings and nights. Augiist came and went all to swiftly, each day adding to the long account of hopes, fears, desires, anticipations, de termined resolves and possible bitter antagonisms which we would hourly bnlance, Fred and I, when the fall would come and the summer cease. From a close friendship nnd in timacy, built on long years of liking, esteem and daily intercourse, Fred and I fell into a polite frigidity and nn aloofness from each other, which was galling to each of us, but which neither could break through or overcome. Between us stood Del's sweet witch eries, rippling laughter, bright words and wondrous graces, piled moun tain high in an impenetrable bar rier, which cut in two the ties of boyish years and the friend ships of manhood, lenving us a stern antagonism and nn implacable deter mination to each seek without stay or stinct what the other most coveted on this green, smiling earth. Aunt Martha led her busy life with calm regularity, and Del encli dny gave us a joyous greeting from her pony carriage when we alighted from the train; chatted with Fred nnd coaxed me to a better humor, or sat with me on the moonlit porch and sang some sweet ditty, then chatted in French with Fred, adding each day to the list of our long reckoning, which in the after years would make or mar two lives. "You both leave to-morrow for good and nil!" said Del that last evening, clasping her little hands in mock de spair. "Whatever will 1 do without you! How dull Seaview will be when you are gone! Poor me! No more sail ingl No more fishing! No more moody, silent, irrational, cross companions to mnke time pnss pleasantly, and to break the deathly monotony of these great oppressive woods!" Fred looked at me and 1 at him. We were grouped under a spreading oak, down by tho water's edge, where a small table nnd chairs had been placed, for Del delighted to serve us tea when twilight set in, close to the murmuring tide, us the wavelets broke gently on the white sands of the beach. Fred and 1 understood each other. Slowly he rose, lit a cignr with a slightly unsteady hnnd nnd strolled oil' down the straight shell road, Dcl's eyes followed hit tall figure as it stood out distinct in the paling light, nnd unconscious of my steady gaze, her great brown eyes 'took on a tender, wistful look, which pierced 1113' heat like n poisoned dagger. "Will the solitude seem dull when wo nro. gone, Del?" I asked. "Deathly dull!" said Del, with 11 slight quiver of her tender mouth. "Aunt Martha shall bring you to town, you poor little caged bird!" I said, taking Iter hand in mine. "Mamma will never leave Seaview, nor let me go nway even for a dny without her," said Del, moving up closer to me, as if for protection against those long, solitary days of approach ing winter. "Then wc must take you away by force, little one," I said, with decision, putting my arm proteetingly around her shoulder. Del leaned her head, crowned with its rippling burnished gold, on my shoulder, not knowing of the throbbing heartbeats so close to hers, or of the rising storm of emotions she was creating. "Oh, Cousin Allen, if you could only get mammn to leave this dreary, dreary place," she said, pleadingly "get her to consent to my living like other girls, I would love you, oh, so dearly, all my life!" "Do you promise that, Del? Is it a bargain?" I asked, while a dull pain seized hold of my heartstrings. "Do you truly love your elderly cousin?" "Of course I do," answered Del, nest ling close to my side, while the soft evening breezes wafted 1110 the scent of her perfumer hnir. "I love you dearly," she added. But her frank, unembarrassed words only added to the growing pain in 1113' heart, to the tumultuous emotions which were invading me. "And Fred?" 1 asked, softly, hold ing her gently to my Bide. "Cousin Allen!" she murmured in nn imploring tone, turning to hide on my shoulder her lovely face, over which had swept a wave of color. "All right, little one," I whispered, renssuringly, while the tempest of baf fled hopes, ruined anticipations nnd murdered joys swept in a burst of fury over my soul and senses, overwhelming me with their bitter waters. "All right, Del, little cousin mine! You shall not spend the glorious years of your youth in these sad solitudes. Your happiness is dearer to me than life itself, and 1 know one who lives only in the hope of having soon the right to order your sweet young life 011 lines of light and happiness. I will sec Aunt Martha," 1 added, lising slow ly, "and I will send Fred to you." "Cousin Allen!" she again said, cling ing breathlessly to me. "Let me go, dearie," I said, lightly, while the fury of a bitter regret and a hurricane of wild emotion shook 1113' soul nnd senses and threatened to sub merge my 103'nl determination to let Fred gain the sunshine of life, hence forth lost forever to me. "Look here," I added, jestingly, "1 must call Fred back before the storm bursts before a furious tornndo comes along to interfere with our bright plans for tho future!" "Why, Cousin Allen!" salil Del, lift ing her head in astonishment from its confiding rest on my breast, and lift ing to mine in wide-eyed wonder her beautiful soft eyes. "What in the world nre 3'ou taking about? There's no storm brewing! Why, tho night is culm and beautiful! Just look how quiet the water is; how serenely tho .stars shine out!" But I lnughed aloud, knowing the tempest which wns raging in my heart, the wrecked blossoms of hope and joy which I113' bruised and scattered over the advancing years, and 1 called to Fred, who was slowty npproachingi "Here, Dalton," 1 Raid, cheerily. "This little cousin of mine, over whom I have assumed a father's authority, 'fears the dull winter months. She would like, the silly little bird that she is, to flee from the sweet protecting solitudes of her old cottnge home. 1 told her you could suggest a satisfac tory arrangement for her. I am going to discuss tho mattter with Aunt Martha." Fred stood up nnd wrung m3r hand with silent and deep emotion. It was late when our evening, tilled with so much J03' to two of us, came to an end. "Cousin Alien," whispered Del, hold- iug fast 11 ly hands, us we eaid good night. "How could you fear n storm? Was there ever a night so blissfully calm and beautiful? This is the kind of weather that reigns in I'uradise." "Sans doute, little fiancee," 1 nn iswered back Intighingly; "noorthe lessj a great storm hns raged on tho gulf coast this evening, nnd tho ruin and wreckngo it has left behind it will never be repaired." N.O. Times-Democrat. THE USE OF BURRS. They Curry tho heed of I'lixuU Awny from tho 1'iirent Stem. After a stroll afield, in the fall, one is apt to wonder, as lie works away at thu burrs that cover his clothes, what use they can possibty be. Burrs are a great nuisance to men nnd uuininls; but the plants they grow on find them very serviceable, for they are simply fruits covered with spines or prickles; and this is 01113 another way plants have to distribute their seeds. That it is a scheme that works well anyone can see who lias a hunting-dog, and keeps it in Ills yard. In the spring lino crops of Spanish needles and clot-burrs come up as if l3' magic, where there were none before. They have grown from the burrs the dog brought homo in his coat the autumn before. Around woolen mills in New England plants from tho west spring up in a mysterious w:i3 and tienrty always these have burr iruits. They have grown from tho burrs taken from the fleece of sheep, in cleaning, and thrown out as waste. Some troublesome weeds have been in troduced in tills man tier. On the prai ries there are 11111113' plants with this kind of fruit. Jn former days, when great herds of bufl'ulocs roamed the plains, their hair caught up these burrs, which thus stole long rides, like the tramps they are. Even now, in old buflnlo-wallow plants are found that do not grow elsewhere in thu eouutry round. Some burrs, liko Spanish needles, have only three or four slender spines, or awns, as they are called, at the sum mit of the fruit. If we look at them through a magnifying-glass, we find them bearing sharp, downward-pointing barbs, like that of a fish-hook. Tho sand-spur, nn ill weed thnt grows on sea beaches and windy river banks, hns burrs covered with Biieh spines. The bo3 who has stepped on sand-spurs with his bare feet knows this to his sorrow. The tiny barbs go in easily, but every attempt to draw them out makes them tear into the flesh. Often the spines or bristles nro hooked instend of being barbed. Tho clot-burr, or cockle-Burr, that grows abundantly in waste ground, and the agrimony of our woods, are examples. Burdock has such hooked prickles on its fruits, and they stick so fast to gether, that children make of them neat little baskets, handles and all. Tho tick-trefoil lias jointed pods, covered thickly with small hooked hairs that can hardly be seen without a magnify ing glass. These arc the small, flat, brown burrs thnt cover the clothing after a walk through the woods in Sep tember. They are most annoying burrs, worse than clot-burrs, they are so small and stick so fast. Thomas 11. Kearney, Jr., in St. Nicholas. Carlylo Unproved. An amusing and characteristic anec dote of Thomas Carlyle is given in Mrs. Boss' "Early Days Becalled." Mrs. Boss, the daughter of Sir Alexander and Lady Dull' Cordon, enjoyed from her earliest years the privilege of meet ing many distinguished persons under delightful conditions. Her mother's beauty and wit, as well as her father's social and oilleial rank, attracted men and women eminent in art, letters and polities to their home. The only visit or whom little Janet cordially disliked was Mr. Thomas Carlyle. She sayH: 'One afternoon my mother had a dis cussion with him on German litera ture; her extraordinary eloquence and fire prevailing, Carlyle lost his temper, and burst forth in his Scotch tongue: 'You're just a windbag, Lucie, you're just a windbag!' 1 had been listening with all my cars, and conceiving him to be very rude, interrupted him by sa3' ing: 'My papa always says that men should be civil to women ;' for which pert remark I got a scolding from my mother; but Mr. Carlyle was not of fended, and turning to her observed: 'Lucie, that child of yours has an eye for an inference.' '' Youth's Com panion. A Thoughtful Girl. "No wonder the pleasures of courting have declined," said the stout youth. "Just look at the flimsiness of these modern chairs." And lie pointed to n slender affair of white bamboo, touched with gilt. "You mustn't judge by appear ances," said the stout girl, softly. "I've had that chair thoroughly braced with the vciy best of steel rods, and it is now guaranteed to stnnd a pressure of 00 pounds to the square inch." Then they both sat down in it as a final test. Cleveland Plain Dealer. Ho Knew 111 tii. "That's a very stupid brute of yours, John," haul a Scotch minister to one of Ills parishioners, a peat dealer, who drove his merchandise from door to door in a small curt drawn 113 a den ke3'. "I never see you but the crea ture is braying." "Eh, sir," said the pent dealer, "yo ken the heart's warm when friend meet." Sparc Moments. NISHAPUR TURQUOISE MINES. Liwy Method by Whleh tho Stoitcn Are Gotten Out Jewels That I'uile. The famous turquobx; mines of Nlsh npur, in northern Persia, are believed to be the only turquoise mines in tho world which have been worked exten sively or which have produced the tur quoise of perfect shape and color. On approaching the mines from Nlshti pur, after entering the low hills and1 gradually ascending, one arrives first nt the villages inhabited ly the minors,' which are on undulating ground about' 5,000 feet above sea level. After an other gradual ascent for about a mile b3 a very good road the foot of a hill) about 1,000 feet in height is reached.! All the mines lire 011 the south facej of thtH hill, and from the first to thej last the distance as the crow flies is not .more than half a mile. The Belsli mine, which is tho only one worked1 on a large scale or with vigor, produce; the greater pnrt of the turquoises at present sent to market. It is near the, top of one of the highest ridges, ati nn altitudo of about 0,000 feet abovei sea level. The entrance is a hollowed out cave, about, 112 ynrdtt across, with a crtienl shaft some live yards in di ameter. Two men were reclining at tin: mouth of this shaft witli their bucks against thu wall of the cave, ami turning witli their bare feet a rlckct3" wpwden wheel, which brought up tho debris from below in a small sheepskin bag holding no more than a peek, per haps. This was received l3' a third' niuii, who unhooked, emptied nnd re attached it. The other two men re moved their feet, nnd the bag went down with a run some -10 feet, where three ether men were similarly en gaged on a ledge in the shaft. The minu itself is 80 or 110 feet from tho surface. The miners llrst descend 1)3 menus of i narrow diagonnl tunnel,' and then scramble down thu rough sides of the shaft. At the mouth of the cave, which is on thu precipitous hillside, half a dozen men wero seated close together on a ledge, breaking witli small hammers the fragments of rock as they wero brought up from below. When a tur quoise wns discovered it was placed on one side in its rough state, encased in rock, and sent to Meshed. Unfortu nate', though the mine is very pro ductive, and the turquoises of good shape, their color soon goes. Since the Abdur Bezni mine fell in it may bo said thnt the stones of perfect shape and color are veiy rarel3' found. But, though really good turquoises are rare,' there is abundance of imperfect nnd bad stones, which are engerly bought, for all orientals prize them, and the veiy poorest like to possess even a green and spotted one set in n tin ring. It' is more tlinn likely, however, that tho hill contains an abundance of good stones. Some of these now found look excellent ut first, but thu color in most cases soon fades, or a green tinge is de eloped, or spots appear on them. Some of these white spots can only: be detected at first with n glass, nnd then as a mere specie, but in time they may expand and spread right across the stone. The color of most faded turquoises can be temporarily revived by dampness. In Meshed no one would dream of buying 11 turquoise of good color without possessing it first for some days, for it is the most treacher ous of all precious stones. The tur quoises, as soon as they are cut in Meshed, are nenrly all sold at once for export, nnd their price in the town rls"h (it least 1,000 per cent. Sonm yenrs ago one could obtain in Meshed' good turquoises of perfect shape, flue color, fair size, and without a flaw for a few shillings each. Turquoises are at present far cheaper at Tiflis and Con stantinople than at Meshed, and at those towns one might perhaps find some of good color which have been in stock for years. Loudon Times. Tho Tiinihlownoil. Tunibleweeds spread themselves in a wholesale fashion. Instead of sending the separate seeds out into the world wilh the wings or huirs to carr3' them, the whole plant breaks oft near thu root, when these are ripe, and goes' roll ing along the ground before the wind. The bare sun-scorched deserts of the great west produce tunibleweeds, and there are some in the prairie region. It is natural that the3' should be most abundant where there arc no hills nor trees to stop them in their course. But we have one tumblewced in the east the old witcli grass, so-called, maybe, because it rides the wind like an old beldame. T11 September this grass spreads its head, or panicle, with hnir like, purple branches, in every sandy field. When the seeds nre ripe the? plants are blown across the field, often piling up in masses along the fences and hedgerows. As might be expected, the hair grass, which 1ms so effective a win- of spreading itself, is found throughout, the United States, from ocean to ocean. Tlioinas II. Kcnrney, Jr., in St. Nicholas. JlrlKht Hoy. A newsboj' saw a dime lying on the ground in the City Hall park. A tramp sitting on a bench near l3' saw the boy pick up the piece and claimed itnt oncu as his own. "Your dime did not have n hole in it, did it?" asked the boy. 'Yes, it did," said the tramp; "give it up!" "Well, this one has not got any holo in it, so I guess I'll keep it." Harper's Young People. I