Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The Nebraska advertiser. (Nemaha City, Neb.) 18??-1909 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 18, 1898)
A "Frontier j VjffloD- 'r.. - rtt. i i Oil ONCE the ra ther of His Coun try was to be properly honored in Wathenn. The settlers had de elded that It ought to be done, and the method of Its carrying out was left to a committee consisting of the storekeeper, the teach er, and one of the lending cattlemen who, rumor suld, had once owned u li brary. ' "Of course it ain't proving nothing about our honesty that we do this sort of thing," remnrked Borden, the run die foreman, "but it's the right thing to do." "Yes. Washington wns a fine old gentleman," added the storekeeper, "an' we Virginians always will stand by liini." "Mighty nice tiling to be honoring the leader of a revolution," broke in a gruff voice from the rear of the store. It was the Englishman who was over seeing the fencing of the Olympic Cat tle company's new lands. He had been a farmer over in the Cimniarron coun try, and wns always objecting to what ever was on foot. "Flush up. you got too badly licked to talk," wns the rejoinder from Bor den; and Glade, the foreigner, sub sided. , The celebration was to take place in r the schoolhouse out on the edge of the tiny settlement. From its door could be seen the haze that covered the tops of the Spanish peaks off to the west nnd also the sunken lines of the Cimniarron. It was all the concep tion of the pretty school mistress, who thought to thus rnise enough money to buy a ilng for the building's roof. There were other inducements for the two men who helped in the prepara tions Borden nnd Grade. The cattle man thought there was no one like Lizzie Dean and the Englishman thought the same. "You are to be Washington," said the director to Borden, and the part iit tcd him well. "All right, I'll lick the Britishers out of their boots," lie declared as he pranced nround with u stick for a sword, and cast ugly looks at Glade. "And you shall be Cornwnllis," turn ing to Glade. This, too, seemed satis factory. Night after night they met nt the schoolhouse preparing the rendition of the piny. The half-dozen Actors were determined that there should be no ground for criticism. Spring was early on the prairie, and the gray and brown grasses were dry as tinder. The close curling buffalo grass was, like that of the blue stem, crinkling in the breeze, nnd the cnttle were nibbling it nwny to get at the tiny spears of green be neath. One night the piny was nearly over when Borden remarked, In tones that, came to the ears of the entire com pany: "If I hnd my way, I'd order every one of these red coats off the soil of America." "MJiybe you can't do nny better thnn did your first president at that," was the sneer that came from back in the flies (curtains strung on pieces of twine) somewhere. Borden grew nngry. "Well. I can try. the same as he did. lie won in the end. I believe." The Englishman came out in the middle of the room. "I would not ad vise thee to try it," he drawled. The words were not more thnn out of his mouth when there came a crash of scenery, jind nlong with the flies and nearly everything portable came Bor den from the stage which he left with a lenp. He made straight for the throat of his adversary, but what met his grasp when he reached out was Miss Dean's hand. "There, there, let this stop right here. The man you represent would never hnve fought in the presence of u woman." Borden, nbnshed, stood back, and then went to the stage. But it did not mean the end of the troubleevery body knew thnt. The men had a fight iff tor the evening's practice was over, but it settled nothing, except that they were both very much in love with Lizzie. The school did not amount to much those dnys, for all the scholars were practicing for their parts in the com ing drama. The work on the ranches suffered likewise, for there was the same interest among the older people. On the night before the festal day there wns a Hunt practicing ut the school house, and again the two representa tives of the opposing sides in the revo lution had their warfare of words. In his speech theAmerican took pains to insert a few words reflecting on the Englishmen who came out to the west to run cattle ranches, and the English man said some cutting things that pointed at frontier manners. "See here, gentlemen, said Lizzie, "this has gone far enough. 1 cannot have you quarreling all the time. You must settle your troubles somewhere else." "All I want is to win you," whispered the Englishman behind the scenes a few minutes later. "Will you give me the answer?" "No. this is a warfare that you must settle with Mr. Borden. 1 would like to see how this contest of the rival powers comes out." "Well, it will be different to that of the days of 1770," was the sententious answer. But would it? "I don't like to see thnt Englishman nround you so much," whispered Uor den a few minutes later. "Why, he behaves himself," replied Miss Dean, with well-feigned astonish ment. "But it ain't patriotic, don't you see," was the retort. "You ought to stand up for your country, and Washing ton I" This Inst proudly, for Borden was really elated at the character he was taking in the play. "So 1 must make this a nntionul nf fairV" J "No, just a personal affair, but be pa triotic in it." Thus the mntter stood when Wash ington's birthday dawned an armed truce between the opposing forces, each of which was intent on winning the prize and confident that it could be done. Soft blew the southern breeze and Uie night wns dark. From miles of plain came the breath of spring thai was giving the first earnest of its? glory. The settlers rode in from their claims In wngons; the ranchmen came on horseback, and the line of ponies that fringed the schoolhouse yard was for midable. The Englishmuu came in all the glory of his best clothes, while Borden made his appearance in the frontier dress that so well became him. "No reserved seats; come right in," welcomed the storekeeper ns he took the tickets at the door. The crowd obeyed and filled the ,front bents, the back seats, and overflowed the nisles. "Now, ladies and gentlemen," an nounced the storekeeper, when all wns ready, "we will present the great drama of the time of Washington, as is most appropriate on this occasion." The curtain rolled up (again a sheet on n pole), nnd the simple incidents thnt had been chosen to give n representa tion of the life of the first president were one after nnother called forth. There was nothing but pence until the net where the meeting of the hero nnd Cornwnllis occurred. Then as the two rivals came on the little stage there was a howl of delight from the men present, for each knew how matters stood. Borden looked daggers at Glnde, and as his turn came to spenk nil realized that he was putting strange senti ments into the mouth of Washington when he said: "You may be as good a mnu as the rest of us, but you are not so brave." Cornwnllis colored, nnd the store keeper remarked to his wife: "Blest if I don't think Borden struck home thnt time." But Glade responded, with due cour tesy: "It remains to be proved ns to that" n.ud then went on with his set speech. The piny was long and the audience wns evidently weary when the final act came. The rivnls were on the stage and there was a chance for some more repar tee, which wns likely to lie given, when suddenly there was a sound from the outside of the house thnt caused the heart of every auditor to sink with nu Ill-defined fear. It was a whinny of ter ror from a score of horses' throats. Quickly the people rushed from their peats and to the windows nnd doors. What they saw wns something thnt is never without its message of alarm for the ranchman nnd the settler the prairie was on fire. In an instant nlmost the house wns emptied. The women were crying and the men were trying to calm the fright ened horses. One by one the wagons were hurrying off, the owners nnxious to get home or nt least out of the reach of the danger. It was high time! Like a sea of flame the onrushing blaze was sweeping across the dry sod, licking up the long grass of the ravines nnd making quick work of the crisp covering of the higher hinds. The wind had risen and was bringing the attack ing army onwnrd with rapid pace. There wns no chance for the school house to escape. In n scrambling, push ing mass the people left the place and their wagons and horses were dotting the fiame-lighted plain. Two men found themselves side by side a qunrter of a mile from the building, each on his broncho and each galloping toward the north. As they mounted a little swell in the prairie the blaze lighted their faces. From each came an exclamation: "Bor den I" "Glndel" "I thought you were with her," de manded the former, nngrily. "I thought you were the one." For nn instant the two men glared at each other and then the test came. Bordon looked straight in the face of the Englishman and then at the sea of flame sweeping up from the south and whose breath was hot In their faces. "Well," he demanded, "which shall it be? This is the time to prove which is the true rcpresentutive of bravery." "Oh, it's not thnt sort of a question," pleaded the other. "It is just that sort of a question. There is a chance for the one who rides iuto that blaze to come out alive and only a chance. It will be at the school house in a moment, and the race there is no small thing in itself, even if the horses will take it." "We'll go together," after n little thought. "Very well." The horses' heads were turned and the rivnls went toward the long line of leaping flumes, each deter mined to make the other weary of his undertaking. On nnd on they rode, the horses becoming wilder as each whiff of the wind brought them a stronger smell of smoke. Finally the Englishman began to fall behind. His horse wns not so unruly as Borden's, nnd there seemed no reason for his retrogression. "Come on, Cornwnllis," called the ranchman, and the cut was felt by the laggard. Fuster and faster rode the frontiers man Into the thick of the smoke nnd was lost to the sight of his comrade. With head bent lownndnotrilsshieJdcd in the folds of his clonk, he steered to ward the schoolhouse whose black form rose out of the flames. Finally the door was reached and with a shout he called to the teacher. Was she there? He remembered that she had gone to the rear of the building when the alarm was given. She might have thought there was no danger in staying in the schoolhouse. He leaped from the horse. Into the building he ran nnd to the rear. What was that a sobbing? Leaning over a pile of curtains in the corner he took from them a bundle of humanity thnt was very frightened and very thankful to see him. "Is it you, Lizzie?" lie questioned. "Yes nnd Jimmic." "Who is that?" "The widow's little lame boy. J thought he would like the show and brought him. He is too heavy to carry and we had to stay here. What can we doV" For nn answer the strong mnn lifted the woman in one arm and the boy in the other and rushed to the door. Throwing them to his saddle he bride them cling for their lives. The fire was already around the yard and was eat ing its way to the building. The in tense heat had made the shingles smoke and in a few minutes the whole struc ture would be n pyramid of blaze. It wns no easy tasl to control a wild and excited horse In the midst of a fire and also see that two helpless charges did not fall from the back of the animal. But Borden with his su perb mastery of horbeflesh did it, and the gait that they took through the wall of flame was something marvelous. Had the riders been living a little near er to civilization they would have called it "record breaker." "Well, that was n scorcher," re marked Borden, when they had come to a safe plncc. "Hello, who Is that?" as n solitary rider came out of the smoke and approached them. "Bless me, if it ain't Cornwalllsl" "Woo!" exclaimed the Englishman, wiping his eyes. "I couldn't find the schoolhouse or I would have saved the little school mn'am." "Was It hot?" "Awfully so. I suppose it is too late now to do her any good." "Oh, I don't know. Cornwallis. She is here nil right," and the form of Liz zie came to the astonished eyes of the late arrival. The Engllshmnn looked sheepish for o minute and then hit his horse with his hand and stnrted oil'. "Say," called Borden, "that little rivalry is settled now." And then to Lizzie: ,"1 knew thnt he was not hunt ing that schoolhouse very hard. You gave him the right character that is, the side that got licked!" And Lizzie Dean ngreed with him. So thoroughly wns the defeat felt that the vanquished suitor did not even deign to come to the wedding the dedication event of the new schoolhouse that re placed the one destroyed by the lire. Lizzie wanted It that way und Borden wns willing to have it so. "I don't know much about it," he said, "but I take it for granted thnt Washing ton nlwtiys pleased the ladles when he could." CHARLES MOIU3AU HAHdER. HIS EARLY BOYHOOD. A Ilrlef Account of the Knmlly of WltHlllllKtOll. George Washington, was cast for his career by u very scant and homely training. Augustine Washington, his father, lacked neither the will nor the means to set him handsomely afoot, with as good a schooling, both In books und in nfl'nirs, us was to be hud; he would have done nil that u liberal nnd provident mnu idiould do to advance his boy in the world hnd he lived to go with him through his youth. Be owned land in four counties, more than .'i,0U0 acres all told, and lying upon both the rivers that refresh the fruit ful northern neck, besides several plots of ground in the promising villnge of Fredericksburg, which lay opposite his lands upon the Itnppiihniiuock; and one-twelfth part of the stock of the 1'rinclpio Iron company, whose mines nnd furnaces in Maryland nnd Virginia yielded a better profit than nny others in the two colonies. He hud commuud ed n ship in his time, ns so ninny of his neighbors had in the maritime prov ince, currying iron from the mines to England, and no doubt bringing con vict laborers back upon his voyage home again. He himself raised the ore from the mines thnt luy upon his own land, close to the l'otomac, nnd had it carried the easy six miles to the river. Matters were very well managed there, Col. Byrd said, and no pains were spared to make the business profitable, dipt. Washington had represented his home parish of Truro, too, in the house of burgesses, where his uthlctie figure, his ruddy skin nnd frank grny eyes must hnve made him us conspicuous us his constituents could hnve wished. He wns a man of the world, every inch, generous, hardy, independent. lie lived long enough, too, to see how stiil wnrt and cnpable and of how noble u spirit his young son was to be, with how manly n bearing he wns to carry himself in the world; nnd had loved him und mude him his companion ac cordingly. But the end came for him before he could see the hid out of boy hood. He died April 12, 17-i:, when he was but 40 years of age, and before George was 12; and in his will there was, of course, for George only n young er son's portion. The active gentlc maii hnd been twice mnrried, and there were seven children to be provided for. Two sons of the first ninrringe sur vived. The bulk of the estate went, us Virginian custom dictated, to Law rence, the eldest son. To Augustine, the second, fell most of the rich lnnds in Westmoreland. George, the eldest born of the second marriage, left to the gunrdinnship of his young mother, shared with the four younger children the residue of the estnte. He was to inherit his father's farm upon the Hap pnhannock, to possess, nnd to cultivate if he would, when lie should come of nge; but for the rest his fortunes were to ninkc. He must get such serv iceable training ns he could for a life of independent endeavor. The two old er brothers had been sent to England to get their schooling nnd preparation for life, ns their father before them had been to get his Lawrence to make ready to take his futher's plnce when the time should come; Augustine, it wns at first planned, to fit himself for the law. George could now look for nothing of the kind. He must con tinue ns he had begun, to get such ele mentary and practical instiuction ns was to be had of schoolmasters in Vir ginia, and the young mother's cure must stand him in the stead of a fa ther's pilotage nnd oversight. Fortunately Mury Washington wns a wise nnd provident mother, u woman of too firm n character and toostendfast a courage to be dismayed by responsibil ity. She hnd seemed only a fnir nnd beautiful girl when Augustine Wash ington mnrried her, and there was u. romnntlu story told of how that gal lant Virginian sailor and gentleman had been literally thrown at her feet out of a carriage in the London streets by wny of introduction, where she, too, wns ii visiting stranger out of Vir ginia But she had shown a singulnr capacity for business when the ro mnntlc dnys of courtship were over. Woodrow Wilson, in Harper's Mngn zine. llcnvluNt Unity Kvcr Horn, The heaviest baby known Is reported from a villiage near Brussels, where a farmer's wife has just given birth to a child weighing over 21 pounds, which is declnrcd by experts to be the heaviest known. Cincinnati Enquirer. THE PARLOR. A Ituom In Wlilolt Them Shonlil He Comfort. A vast amount of unfhuppincss in thin world is cntised by contrasting our cir cumstances and surroundings with those of our neighbors and attempting to live up to what we believe they ex pect of us. Most persons would find thnt they ilitinlly commanded the re spect of the most critical, if they showed perfect independence and made their house ns uttrnctlve and comfortable for themselves ns they could, without re gnrd to the opinion of otllicrs. The par lor is the room in the house on which the greater part of the money spent in furnishing is often expended, nnd it Js the room of least value to the hotinc hold. It has beeiu proposed boldly to di nwny with this room. In some enses this Is the best plan, but in families, where tlhere nre few or no servants, and ninny children, the. parlor Is a nec essary room. Inn house where n maid, keeps every room dusted nhd swept, and there nre no children to Invndu thesllr ting-i'oom with their books ond plny things, this room limy take the place of the parlor. The tired mother, however, whose powers arc limited, ca.nnot al ways keep this room in the perfect or der she desires. A parlor is n room of refuge, because it is kept shut up from small but dusty footprints, nnd the nil invnding disorder caused by continual use, which, in spite of her best efforts, must occasionally penetrate Into thcslt t ing-rnoni.. Literally the parlor moans a room for talk. It wns formerly the re ception room of the convent, where the nuns met occasionally for talk or par ltiiiice. Itisn room that can be not apart nnd enslly kept well swept and dusted, nnd nlways nent, even when nil the work is done by one pair of 'hands, be cause It Is not In continual use, like the sitting-room. It is a mlstnke to 5-pond much money on this room, simply because Mrs. .Smith or Mrs. Jones docs, llcservc the best pictures for the sitting-room, where the family can enjoy them every day. Put the most comfortable chnirn in the sitting-room. Furnish the par lor neatly and daintily, without, much expenditure. It docs not require such strong, durable furniture us the sitting room. More delicate colon enn be used, nnd less expensive materials may be employed because there Is less wear. A simple, dainty little room of this kind in which one may listen to the chat of the carnal visitor is a great assist ance nnd relief to the working mother, who will have many guests whom she does not care to receive in theslttlng iroom. The confusion thnt may hnve taken possession of that room becomes a double source of annoyance when it is observed by women whom jllie. known are not alwnys charitable in their judg ment. It is impossible that the sitting room in u family where it is the play room of the children, the gathering rooin of the family, and subject to the general wear and tenr of such a room, should always be in order. It is often nkln to "wearing one's heart upon one' sleeve for daws to pick nt," to take some visitors into such n disordered room. N. Y. Tribune. White DliiiiiTM. Color feasts are still the rage, but gold or silver suppers are highly popu lar, and recently n "white dinner" won given which wns pronounced an nrlis tlc success. The mother of tire lovely home wore white satin brocade, the de butuutc daughter white accordion plaited mousscliuc de sole over whitf corded silk, nnd nil the maiden mid matron guests were attired in beauti ful white gowns of various kinds. A. very prodigal use of wax caudles nnd lamps covered with white shades, gave a lovely effect to the dining-room. The table, sideboard and mantels were crowned with musses of white roses, carnations, sweet nlyssum, valley lilies, calla blooms, Mary lilies in nigh, slen der vases, and low, white porcelain dishes filled with spired and while geranium blossoms. Cincinnati Com mercial Tribune. ClK-Mdiut I'uilillnif. Boil some chestnuts for about a quarter of an hour in plenty of water, blanch and peel them; pound in n mor tar with any desirable essence (very little of it) and some light French while wine; put Into n small preserving pan, cover them with the wine, bent the yolks of three eggs and' the whites of two, some grated nutmeg, n pinch of salt and a little melted butter; ndd gradually one pint of milk (three-quarters of a pint of crentn Is preferable). Sweeten to taste; stir it over the fire in a china saucepan till thick; put the mixture iu n pie dish, lined with puff or other thin paste, and bake In n fairly hot oven. Cincinnati Enquirer. Slilrreil Oytttarn. Separate the oysters from the liquor, put the liquor in a stewpau, add one pint of water, a wineglnssful of cream, a lump of butter the size of an rgg and pepper, salt and bread crumbs or small crackers to taste. Let all boll together, then add the oysters and let them eonk until thoroughly heated. Glood House keeping. Kuphuel '1 nek, the well-known t-liristmas enrd man, says some of the "signers receive very large sums of . money for their work. He says tite ! irnlngs of one Indy is $5,000, nnother $3,500, while the copyists receive at 1 least $15 per week.