THE NEBRASKA ADVERTISER
W. W. HANDKItS i'umliher.
NEMAHA, NRItUASKA.
JIM THE GOOD-FOR-NOTHING.
Used to call Jim rooi! fer nothln'I Wn'n't
much like his brother Johnl
Hummed around nml never seemed to mind
how thlnRs wmh koIii' on;
Qlvc IiIh folks it lot of worry with hlssprce-
ln' here nnd there
Hroko IiIh mother's heart, I reckon, lint ho
never Huemed to care;
Used to call him ood fer nothln' I'm re-
fcrrln' now to .Jim
Wn'n't n hless-ed thlnj? In common 'twlxt
IiIh brother John nnd him.
Well, the call fer troops was sounded! Men
must Hhoulder iirinH and ro
Far away, to miffcr hardships nnd to llht
their country's foel
UHed to call him K"od for nothln', 'cause he
alwayH liked to rent;
Cause ho had a tamo fer lhiuor und wan
ruther Hhuhby dresscull
But when fearlcHN men were needed Jim
iut on a Hiilt of blue,
timing bin cap and cheered and started
John cnllHtcd, too.
After while there come dispatches tellltiK of
"an awful fray,"
Where "the coolness and the courage of ono
man had wived the day!"
Tellln how he seen the weakness of the
enemy and then,
Onibbln' up tho stnndnrd, Htartcd, lendin'
on IiIh checrln' men!
How ho Htopped a frlKhtful slniiKhtor
made tho enemy retreat
Won it victory whore othcrH would have
Klvc up In dcfcatl
Ah, who wiih tho fearless leader that won
laHtln' lory therp.7
Who "Ignored the deatljy bullets" thnt
were wblz.ln' through the air?
TIacd to call him Kood fer nothln' I'm rc-
ferrln' now to Jim
Wn'n't a hless-ed thing that people ever
found to pralHo In him!
a'poHo you've guessed ho wiih the hero boro
the. noble Htandnrd on
Well, tho fact In that he wasn't, 'cnUHo It
happened to be John.
S. 10. KlHcr, In Chlcat'o Tlmcu-llerald.
C
-o
Saved by the Sexton
By A. A. Smith.
Written for thin Airr.
Author'H Note: "Saved by tho Sexton"
1h it Htory biiHed upon facts, which wero
widely exploited by the newHpaperH at the
time. For obvious reasons lIctltloiiH names
or the parties to the grewac-mc adventtire
are used, and tho name of the city near
which It occurred Is purposely omitted.
Newspaper readers with retentive mem
ories, however, will be able to recall both
tho parties to what may aptly be termed
n providential crime, and the locality In
which It occurred. Tlmlndy who owed so
much to the desecration of her grave lived
for eight years afterward and became the
mother of two healthy children, but the
Kullty sexton did not long survive the
shock remitting from his ghoulish night's
worn.
IT WAS by no menus u tenement house
picture upon which the sexton gazed
us lie stepped across his own threshold.
The room was small and poorly fur
nished, but it, did not present the gaunt
nspeet of poverty in the lowest degree.
There were four rooms in the little
house and they contained all the es
sentials for comfortable living, even
though the carpets were made of rags
and the scant furniture was worn and
faded. The most dismal feature of the
place was the discontented face of the
-woman who was facing him in the low
rocker.
"What, makes you so late, Thomas?"
hhe asked, fretfully.
"I had to finish digging the Wliltncll
grave," the man implied. "The fu
neral's to-morrow, and there's a lot. to
do. Three dollars is not such a bad
day's work for ub, Is it, Mary?"
"Had," she repeated, turning wearily
nway. "Jt's all been bad ever since I
could remember. What, an aspiring
man you are, Thomas, to talk about a
beggarly day's work as If you had found
a. fortune."
Sexton Williams only sighed as he
went in to his supper. Long experi
ence had taught him the futility of try
ing to dispel the fretful melancholy of
his wife.
"The same old bill of fare again,"
sighed the querulous woman opposite
him. "Who wouldn't get tired of the
same old things over and over again?
I do wish we could live like somebody
for awhile, just for the novelty of it."
"Why don't you talk?" she demand
ed, as Thomas ate his supper in silent
constraint. "One would think it was
gloomy enough without, bringing your
graveyard manners into the house. J
suppose the Whitnells will make a
swell affair of their funeral to-morrow?"
"Indeed they will," responded her
husband, brightening with the thought
of having something of interest to im
part to his wife. "She is to be buried
in her wedding clothes. There's an ele
gant necklace and some pearls, and
diamonds."
"Diamonds!" exclaimed the wife.
"The idea of putting them into the
ground. It's a shame."
"Worse than the barbarians," replied
the sexton, "but she requested it, and
the mourners seem more anxious than
anything that the corpse shall present
n. striking appearance. The under
taker said it would be done, and I saw
Iter laid out in them myself."
"Oh, dear!" fairly groaned the wom
an. "And all that shameful waste
while I can't have as much as a pair of
new curtains to replace these wretched
xugs. If I were a man I'd I'd rob that
grave before tho-e Jewels should be put
to mi el i a shameful use."
II.
It was a night well suited to 1lic
work of ghouls. The wind came in
grenL wiuch, shrieking at the height
of its fury like a soul in torment, then
lying away hi n sighing breeze. (Ireat
billowy floods were swept across the
sky, while a driving mist would break
at Intervals Into a sudden dash of rain
as a great storm cloud was swept
along. In the grewsoine churchyard,
where marble shafts gleamed weirdly
through the rain and darkness, the
light of a lantern played fantastically
about a new-made grave. Heading over
the soggy clay was the figure of a man.
With desperate energy he plied the
spade, and as he threw aside the little
heaps of rain-soaked earth his eyes
shot fearful glances Into the weird and
ominoiiH night. To his guilty senses
the howling of the wind seemed like
the voices of offended spirltii of the
dead, and from out the rain and dark
ness he could see in fancy the accusing
menace of ghostly hands. (Ireat. drops
of perspiration fell from his face and
mingled with the rain trickling in rivu
lets down his rubber coat.
"Curse the rain," he muttered,
straightening up and resting for a
moment. "Hut it's a lucky touch. No
danger of interference on such anight
as this. Mary'll get her curtains ull
right enough."
For an hour he tossed aside the sticky
clay, and then his tusk grew easier.
The grave sheltered him somewiat
from the wind, and the earth became
less rain-soaked and heavy. Another
hour and his spade scraped upon the
cover of the box inclosing the casket.
He carefully scraped awuy the remain
ing clods and threw them out, and then
ns he prepared to remove the cover
the unspeakable terrors of his tusk
swept ever him again. With choking
breath he stood up und peered over the
edge of the grave he had desecrated,
his tortured fancy halting between the
terrors of the churchyard and the aw
ful proximity of the thing beneath his
feet.
"The first time; the first time," ho
muttered, striving to regain bis com
posure. "And I wouldn't do it now,
only It kinder seems as if J owed it to
Mary. And she" he glanced shudder
ingly down at the box beneath his feet.
"She doesn't need them any more, and
It was wicked to bury them with her."
Controlling himself with a great ef
fort, he completed his grewsoine work.
BEFOKE HIM LAV THE UNCOVERED
FACE.
Standing close against one side of the
grave, he lifted the cover of the box
from beneath his feet and threw it out
upon the pile of earth. Then, kneeling
upon the lower part of the casket, he
quickly removed the screws from the
upper lid and threw it, too, outside of
the grave. The sexton had reached the
climax of his task, llefore him in the
dim light of his lantern lay the uncov
ered face of the dead woman, white and
cold In the repose of death. In the mo
ment of the greatest tension the sexton
grew a little calmer. He lifted the
dainty hand and sought to pull the pre
cious jewel from the finger. It would
not yield to his effort, and ho lifted the
woman's head and removed a costly
locket and a string of pearls. Then he
returned to the sparkling ring upon her
finger.
It would not yield. lie tried again
and again, and as he worked till the
wild fancies of the night rushed over
him again until he was on the point of
fleeing from the grno without the
jewel. Then with sudden resolution he
took a knife from his pocket, intend
ing to amputate the finger. He pressed
the keen blade upon her finger, and
then-
Thronghout the city of thedeatl there
echoed one awful, frenzied scream,
then another and another. From the
desecrated grave out leaped the sexton,
like a fiend escaped from torment, and,
dashing down his lantern, he rushed
away from that fearful place as though
all the wild fancies of his guilty brain
had taken form and were rushing in
pursuit.
111.
Twelve o'clock found Mr. Whitnell
pacing restlessly up and down the par
lor of his lonely iiiun&ion. He could not
sleep, and his own room contained so
many reminders of his departed wife
that he could better endure the parlor,
P
where he Iitiil Inst seen In r radiant with
health and happiness.
The stroke of one edioed drearily
through the house, and still the giief
strickcu man paced up mid down. For
another hour he wrestled with the mem
ories of his wedded life, and then ex
hausted nature warned him that he
must seek repose. He turned sorrow
fully to leave the room, when, quick,
clear and distinct, nbou the roaring of
the storm, he heard the -uniinonsof the
doorbell.
Mr. Whitnell was not a man to be op
pressed by superstition- fears. He de
spised such weakness la cithers, yet now
a nameless dread swept over him. He
went to the window nnd peered into
the night. Despite his self-command,
he almost cried out nloud. for in the fan
tastic glare of the electric light he be
held a ghostly, whltc-rohed figure stand
ing at his door. For a moment the
firmly-grounded beliefs of a lifetime
were swept away, and Mr. Whitnell was
thrilled witli the superstitious fancies
lie despised. Then a shriek echoing
through the house recalled him to his
senses. A servant had opened Hie door
mid seen the ghostlike figure and then
fled, crying that the spirit of his mis
tress was standing at the door. Mr.
Whitncll's quick brain grasping at a
suggestion of the truth, he ran down
and caught in his arms the cold, wet,
trembling, yet living, form of his res
urrected wife.
IV.
In the evening papers of that day the
marvelous story was told, needing no
coloring of imagination to make it more
sensational. They told how Mrs. Whit
nell had been awakened from a cata
leptic trance by the pressure of a knife
upon her finger; how she had sat up
with every sense awakened to feci the
cold, damp walls of the grave about
her; how, with those awful screams
ringing in her ears, she awoke to a
realization of the truth, filling her with
a terror scarcely less great than the sex
ton's; and how, with returning reason,
she had climbed out of her grave nnd
made her way through the storm to
her own home. Graphically they de
scribed the appearance of the grave,
which hundreds visited the heap of
earth, with the spade and lantern ly
ing upon it, and the casket lid and cover
of the box. They pictured the joy of
the reunited family, but in it all there
was no definite mention of the shut
tered, half-crazed setou, whoso mind
would never recover from the terrors
of that night's work, l'owerful influ
ences from a grateful, reunited family
bad been at work-, and the papers con
tained only the statement that, while
the would-be grave robber was known,
the happy ending of his ghoulish at
tempt had not only saved him from
prosecution, but had brought him sub
stantial reward.
A FRIENDLY SERGEANT.
Hi' Saved IIIh Captain' Itcimtiitlon
for MnrUKiiiiuiMliiii by CIi-ut
Signals.
"They tell a funny story in the army
about dipt, l'atillo, the crack shot,"
said one of a party of late diners. "Ac
cording to the j arn, (Ion. Miles and a
high Washington olllcial once visited a
western post where the captain was sta
tioned, and sent word that they would
like to see a little exhibition of his skill,
l'atillo happened to be quite sick at the
time, but he couldn't very well refuse,
nnd presently appeared on the longdis
tance range. He blazed away, and an
Irish sergeant, who had been sent out
to act as marker, waved a small sig
nal Hag. 'What does that mean?' asked
the distinguished visitor. 'It means 1
missed the whole target,' replied l'a
tillo, gloomily. He tried again with the
same result. 'I don't know what's the
matter with me!' he exclaimed in deep
mortification; '1 never did such work
in my life!'
"At the third shot the distant figure
varied the wig-wagging and the assem
bled oflleers applauded. The signal
meant a bull's-eje. Thereupon he fired
!J0 consecutive rounds, and each time
the Hag waved back the news that he
had pierced the inner circle. It was a
marvelous record, an unparalleled
score; the distinguished visitor was
very gracious in his congratulations.
Later on l'atillo, Mill beaming, met the
marker crossing the parade grounds.
Mlcllo.sergeant.'hesald,'! wonder what
the deuce made me miss the target
those first two shots'." 'Whist! cap
tain! 'tis divll the toime ye hit it at all,
at all!' 'Didn't hit it at all!' cried l'a
tillo in amazement, 'then why did , oil
signal all those bull's-eyes?' 'Faith,
sor,' said the sergeant, 'reproachfully,
'1 knewyorrlpjtntioii was at stake.' "
N. O. Times-Democrat.
UcllectlmiH of n Biiclu-lor.
Every woman has an idea that she
"holds her age well."
Life's thorns were created to keep
people from acting hoggish with the
roses.
Love is a dream. Whether it is a
nightmare or not depends a lot on what
you had for dinner.
There was never but one really brine
man. He told a woman he didn't think
her baby jvas unusually bright for its
age.
Jleligion may say what it will; hut
there, conies a time to every human soul
when it knows that there can be no
Heaven for It where some one other
huinun soul is not. N, Y. '.'.ess.
TRIMMING THE COMBS.
It In No! n I'nliifiil Operation Tor (lie
lllrdH, Considering the Com
fort It Assures.
The drawbacks of large combs and
wattles are freezing in our northern
states and the discomforts and strain
resulting from carrying so much
weight on the head. It appears as
though the circulation of blood In the
head is somewhat affected by these
excessive appendages, for it has been
observed that a Leghorn having fre
quent spells of giddiness nnd stagger
ing can sometimes be quickly and per
manently cured by trimming the comb,
and wo would always recommend the
trimming of both comb and wattles
for both sexes when two-thirds grown,
LEC.IIOUNS WITH COMBS CUT.
especially in view of freezing when
mm weather occurs. Use shears or
scissors instead of a knife so as to pinch
the blood vessels and mitigate the
flow of blood.
The operation is not so painful as
might appear, we will state for the
benefit of the Society for the Preven
tion of Cruelty to Animals. Nature evi
dently provided that the comb and wat
tles should be comparatively destitute
of feeling. As during the thousands
and thousands of jears the mules
fought for the possession of the females
and the combs and wattles were the
parts seized upon in the- struggle a lack
of sensitheness in these appendages
would be perpetuated and augmented
on the principal of natural selection.
So indifferent is n fowl that after be
ing dubbed it will unconcernedly fall
to eating Its own comb and wattles if
allowed the prhiioge. This dullness
or fewness of nerves of feeling in the
comb, when understood, may alleviate
the pangs felt by many persons at the
mention of what has been wrongly
called a cruel practice. It is easier
for a fowl to stand dubbing than to
endure a frozen comb. 11. II. Stod
dard, in Farm and Home.
PRESERVING EGGS.
Directions for the t'se of Water CIuhh
KiiriilNlicd by Prof. I.uiUI, of
North Dakota College.
l'rof. Ladd, of North Dakota College
of Agriculture, in bulletin No. 35, gives
the following directions for the use of
water glass in keeping eggs. Water
glass is silicate of soda or silicate of
potash, the former being cheaper. It
is not expensive.
if wooden kegs or barrels are to be
used in which to pack the eggs, they
should first 1)L thoroughly scalded with
boiling water to sweeten and purify
them.
To each ten quarts of water, which
should first be boiled and then cooled,
add one quart of water glass, l'aek
the eggs in the vessel and pour solution
over them, covering well.
Keep the eggs in a cool, dark place.
A dry, cool cellar is a good place.
If the eggs are kept in too warm a
place the silicate is deposited and the
eggs are not properly protected. Do
not wash the eggs before packing, for
by so doing you injure their keeping
quality.
For packing use only perfectly fresh
eggs, for stale eggs will not be saved
and may prove harmful to others.
All packed eggs contain a little gas,
and in boiling such eggs they will
crack. This may be prevented by
making a pin hole in the blunt end of
the egg. To do this hold the egg in the
hand, place the point of a pin against
the shell of the ty; ut the blunt end, and
gio the pin a quick, sharp blow, just
enough to drive the pin through the
shell without further Injury to the egg.
New OntH Not CJooil Fcril.
There is great temptation on farms
where old oats arc scarce to give new
oats in their stead, some farmers cut
ting the green oats in the field and
chopping off the heads in lieu of thresh
ing out the grain. Hut such feed is sure
to give a working horse the scours, un
less dry feed is given with it. A small
amount of dry wheat flour dusted over
the oats will partially offset their luxa
the effect. Hut whatever precautions
arc taken it is better to feed old oats
until the new crop has dried out than to
attempt to feed oats of the present
year's growth. If the oat heuds are
chopped oil' and placed lu an evaporator
they will be dry enough in three days
to feed safely. American Cultivator.
IMi WVv
RAPE AS GREEN FOOD.
Ever)' Farmer Who liaises Chicken
Should Try n .Small Patch
Without Delay.
Itapc Is an excellent green food for
chickens and fills a long felt want of
poultryinen. It can be sown in early
spring or any time later up to the mid
dle of August, and furnish an abund
ance of food, writes C. It. "Roberts in tho
American 1'oultry Journal. Last year
1 sowed a small patch just to sec what
kind of a plant it was. It grows from
18 to 120 inches in height. The leaves,
in color and shape resemble the cab
bage leaf very much. Jt can be sown
broadcast, or in drills 30 inches apart,
and be cultivated. The ground should
be prepared the same as for turnips,
and the seed covered nbotit the same
as turnip seed. It grows very fast, and
can be cut and fed to chickens or let
them go to It at will and help them
selves. When they nre to eat in this
way I should prefer to have It sown
in drills, as they can walk between the
rpws, and are not so apt to trample
and break It down as is the case when
sown broadcast; but when it is to be cut
and fed it is just as good to sow it broad
cast as any. Last year my young chick
ens commenced to eat my cabbages,.,
but when the rape was up four or live,
inches high they left the cabbage and
commenced on the rape, and any one,
knows that when chickens leave a cab
bage patch to eat something else it
must be something they like better
than cabbages. 1 had never had chick
ens do better and grow faster than they
did while they were helping themselves
to rape. I think that every one who
raises chickens should try a small
patch. Jt will cost but a few cents to
give this plant a trial, as live pounds is,
enough to sow an acre broadcast, and
one to two pounds if sown in drills. I
have no rape seed to sell. v
. GREEN CUT BONE.
An Economical nnd Excellent T"ool..
for l,n y I iik Hens, Both AVln-
tee ami Summer.
Green bone is rich in phosphate of"
lime, and this fact alone should prove
its value as food for laying hens, both
winter and summer. Fowls undcrstanil
its value to themselves, as is shown by
the manner in which they will leave any
food to get the green bone, says the
American Farmer. Further, it is one
of the cheapest foods, for usually the
bones of various sizes and shapes, with
more or less meat attached to them, can
be bought for a few cents, and the
modern bone-cutter crushes and cuts
them line in a few moments. Frequent
ly there is sufficient meat on these
bones to furnish all that is needed in
that line, and thus another saving is ef
fected, for the meat bought nlonm
would cost much more than the meaty
bones. Still again, green bono, especial
ly when meat is attached thereto, fed
within reason, reduces the need of feed
ing the usual quantity of grain, thus
saving more money.
The main thing to avoid in feeding1
cut bone is to see that the bones art:
green that is, fresh and free from,
taint. In sonic localities where butch
ers have considerable demand for fresh
bones, they make two grades of them,,
one from meat freshly cut up and the
other from older meat, and frequently
tainted with the entrails of fowls and
other refuse thrown into the box. Don't
buy this stuff at any price, nor take it
as a gift. Feed only fresh bone, and it
will pay every time.
A DOG-PROOF FENCE.
It Hun to lie Compactly Iliillt If Kenlly-
Satisfactory ItcNtilts Are to
Be Obtained.
The own.er of two large sheep farms im
New Fngland has recently described
the miles of dog-proof, barbed-wire
sheep fences that inclose his farms. As
dogs are the bane of sheep keeping im
all parts of the country, a diagram ot.
his fence, given herewith, will be ot!
wide interest. Cedar posts about four
inches in diameter are driven into the-
fliuiniHttW"i itHwimfciiW'a-
DOO-I'ROOE FENCE.
ground eight feet apart and' seven,
strands of barbed wire are stretched
and stapled to them, as shown in the
cut. The lowest wire is close to the
ground. The second wire is four inches
above the lowest. The third is live
inches farther up the post, the next six
inches higher, while the fifth goes up
another six Inches. The sixth strand is
located eight inches above the fifth,
while eight inches farther up is a rail ta
steady the fence. Fight inches above
the rail is the seventh wire, Avhich ef
fectually prevents dogs from leaping
over the rail. Orange .ludd Fanner.
Chickens once stunted seldom retrain.
their vigor even with the most carcfuh
i - -.
I
' y . .. .
- --4
i , ... .
breeding.
Y
y
f
V
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