. . ywwt''im!'rmymBimmirvwrwr,. "11"
rilMT MrfiMrafwa
THE NEBRASKA ADVERTISER
W. W. SANDKItS, Publisher.
NEMAHA,
NEBRASKA.
THE KNITTERS.
All hall to the little brown fingers
., That pull the first blossoms of life,
And hall to the strong hand that lingers
To calm tho hot pulses of strife!
But where, with the last light caressing
Their thin silver tresses, they nit,
Our hearts call down favor and blessing
Upon tho old ladles that knit.
Their hands have long slnco dropped the
burden
That nge made too heavy to bear,
And pence and repose aro tho guerdon
That follows long labor and care.
Ambition has burned down to embers;
Hopes outgrow the old nest and lilt.
Alono with the lovo that remembers
Thuy sit by the llresldo and knit.
Where now Is the full mending-basket,
Not empty ono day In the year?
Bpcuk gently and low us you ask It,
Lest tho dulled our bent neur you should
hear.
For the children have grown and departed,
The work of the daylight Is gone;
In tho twilight of llfo, tender-hearted,
Tho knitters aro waiting for dawn.
Full soon shall tho light break above them,
That shines from the City of Rest.
Full soon Bholl wo gather who lovo them,
To fold their frail hands on the breast.
Oh, ovcnlng of life, slow descending,
Ilcst gently upon each whtlo head,
Till theso lingers, the last stitches ending,
Shall touch tho first harp-strings In
stead. Curtis May, In Youth's Companion.
BORN TO SERVE
By Charles M. Sheldon,
Author of "miiis steps. "jonmcrHO'O
QUESTION CLASS.
IN CLASS." "BDWARD
ULAKIV'Bto.
(Uopfilght, MOO, by C'liarle 11. BbolUon.)
CHAPTER IV. Continued.
While her room was in process of
reconstruction, Birbarn lind been go
ing homo to stay with her mother.
Mrs. Clark was only partly reconciled
to Barbara's choice ot n career; and
when, tuis particular night, after the
news of Mr. Morton's coming, Bar
burn arrived quite early (having ex
cused herself soon on tho pica, of be
ing very tired), Ms. Clark noted tho
signs of trouble in Barbara's face,
ml Instantly questioned her about it.
"Your work Is too hard, too con
fining, my dear. It is not nt all tho
work for such a girl as you arc, Bar
bara. It will kill you."
"No, mother, 1 don't think it will,"
Barbara replied, bravely.
"But I don't 6co what good it Is do
ing to anyone. You uro just slaving
yourself to death like any ordinary
servant. Your talents ns n teacher
aro wasted. Tour social position is
gone. You have burled yourself in a
kitchen. Of what use is it? You
might bo in tho wo-ul like other peo
ple, with some opportunities to rise
and make tho most of yourself,
whereas now you are shut out from
all the ordinary social ambitions and
accomplishments of other girls
"Mother, don't, please," cried Bar
bnra, and then to her mother's sur
prise she suddenly broke down and
began to cry softly.
"There I I told you sol You aro
nil worn out!" said her mother, com
ing to her and putting a loving arm
about her.
"No, mother, 1 am not very tired in
body. I'm just a little bit discour
aged to-night," Barbara declared;
and after a few minutes' crying, with
her head in her mother's lap, she be
gan to talk cheerfully of her plans.
She was going to see Mrs. Vane again.
She thought she could in n little time
get Hilda interested and add ono or
two moru to the Inner circle. They
wcro very kind to her at the Ward's
It was very much Hko home there.
They wcro making a new room for
her, and enlarging her kitchen. Bar
bara spoke of this last with a playful
reference to a laughing remark Mrs.
Ward had made while talking of the
enlargement of tho kitchen: "You can
set apart this new corner for com
pany, unless you will use the parlor
when your beaux come to call." "I
don't think 1 shall over need it, moth
er; you are all the beau 1 want," added
Barbara, gayly.
Her mother shook her head. "What
company eon you ever have, Barbara?
You have forfeited all expectation of
it by putting yourself Into your pres
ent position. You arc so situated that
neither your inferiors nor your equals
can meet with you socially, There Is
nn impassable gulf between you and
the young people of your own degree
of education and refinement."
"Not necessarily, mother," Barbara
stoutly protested. Perhaps a little
unconsciously sho was trying to give
herself some hope. "Anyone lor
whom I might care us a friend in the
ocial world would not be iullueuced
by my position."
"They couldn't help It, much as they
might not wish to. Mrs. Ward is pow
erless, Mrs. Yami with all her wealth
and inlluenco is powerless to give you
nny real standing in society. Try it
uiul see."
"I will," replied Barbara, as a plan
occurred to her. "Hut, mother, why
should I be shut out of any society 1
might choose to enter, simply because
I am doing good, honest, useful lubor
with 1113' luuidii?"
"I do not think you Aught to bo shut
out, of course. We livc gone over tho
ground a hundred times. But your
position docs shut Vou out. It is not a
question of oughvf but it does."
"Anyone I mlput enre for would not
regard my position," said Barbara,
stoutly.
"Ncvcrthclss, Barbara, you know
ns well as Anyone that because you
are a hired girl in Mrs. Ward's house
you do not) have tho placo In society
that you would have If you taught
school In Crawford. Why, oven In the
church it Is clearly a fact that you
cannot get tho recognition that you
would get if you were doing something
else. Don't you yourself see that
plainly enough?"
Barbara was silent. She was going
over in memory the last few Sundays
at Marblo Square church. Since that
llrst Sundny when she had gone with
Mrs. Ward sho had been every week
except one. Sho would have been a
very stupid girl if she had not noticed
tho dlfTerenco between her reception
by diil'crent Indies in the church nnd
that given other young women. A
few women to whom Mrs. Ward had
wnrmly introduced her had treated
her in every respect like anyone else,
with neither a patronizing nor a hypo
critical manner.
She had been invited into a Bible
clnss by the superintendent of the
Sundny-school, and had been wel
comed without any notice taken of her
position; but, as tho weeks went by,
sho was simply ignored by the major
ity of people to whom Mrs. Ward had
introduced her. Ono invitation from
n warm-hearted member of the clnss
sho had accepted, to tako tea at her
house; but her reception by other
young ladies who met her there was
not such as to encourage her to go
again.
As far as the church was concerned,
sho found herself simply pnsscd by.
There was no uncivil or conrse con
tempt of her. There was simply nn
Ignoring of her as a part of the Mar
ble Square congregation. For vnrlous
reasons sho had not yet gone to the
Endeavor society. It met on Sunday
night beforo tho preaching service,
and so far sho had reserved her Sun
day nights as sacred to her mother,
who did not feel able to go out.
"I acknowledge what you say about
tho church, mother. But I may be
partly to blame for it myself. I don't
think the best people In Marble Square
church think nny the less of mo for
working as a servant."
"Maybe not, and yet even the best
people nro almost unconsciously in
fluenced by social habits nnd tradi
tions. Why, even the minister is in
fluenced by them. This new young
man, Mr. Mr. what Is his name?"
"Morton," said Barbara, coloring;
but her mother did not notice, as her
eyes wcro very poor at night.
"This Mr. Morton, according to Mrs.
Vane, is a remarkably good and sen
sible and talented young man; but, If
"YOU ARE ALL, WORN OUT," SAID
UKU MOTHER.
you were to join his church and be
come a worker there, you could not
expect him to ignore the fact that you
were a servant girl, lie could not
oven forget that fact when he was
speaking to you."
"I don't know why!" Barbara ex
claimed almost sharply.
"1 only used him as an Illustration
of any educated Christian gentleman
anywhere," said Mrs. Clark, looking
somewhat surprised at Barbara's ex
clamation. "A Christian gentleman," replied
Barbara in a low tone, "would not
make any distinction between a serv
ant girl and a school-teacher."
Mrs. Clark sighed. "It is useless
for mo to argue with you, Barbara.
You will probably learn all the bitter
ness of your position by painful facts.
All tho theories of social equality aro
beautiful, but very few of them
amount to anything in the real world
of society."
"1 don't care for society!" exclaimed
Barbara. "That is, for society repre
sented by wealth and fashion. But I
dou't believe nny real Christian will
ifflmmTf I WErJP
ever make nny cruel or lulse distinc
tion between different kinds of labor."
"It isn't that altogether," Mrs.
Clnrk wearily said, as if too tired to
continue. "It's a difference In soclnl
instincts and social feelings that sep
arates people. You will find it out
from experience In time, I am afraid."
When Barbara went back to her
work tho next morning, It was with
a resolution to do something that
perhaps the talk with her mother had
suggested. In the afternoon sho
asked Mrs. Ward for leave to go nnd
seo Mrs. Vane, and it was readily
granted.
When she knocked at the door nnd
Mrs. Vnno heartily bade her enter,
sho was more excited than she had
been in a long time.
"I want you to help mo make a
test, Mrs. Vane," Barbara said, as
the old lady sat erect, confronting
her nnd looking straight at her with
those terrible eyes. Barbara, how
ever, did not fear them. Sho under
stood the character of Mrs. Vane
thoroughly.
"Tell mo all about It, dear," said
Mrs. Vane.
Barbara went on, calming her
excitement, but not her interest.
When sho was through Mrs.- Vane
eaid: "I am perfectly willing, my
dear. But I think I know how it will
come out, beforehand."
"But I want to prove it for my
self." "Very well," Mrs. Vane replied,
with tho nearest approach to a sigh
that Barbara had ever heard her
utter, and Barbara finally departed
to her work. If she had realized
what results would follow tho test
Mrs. Vano was going to make for her,
she could not have walked back so
calmly.
CHAPTER V.
A TRUE SERVANT OF THE LORD.
Tho "test" that Barbara had pro
posed to Mrs. Vane was not any
thing very remarkable, either as a
test or as nn experiment. Mrs. Vane
was to invito several peoplo to her
house some evening nnd invite Bar
bara with tho rest, presenting her to
her guests nnd treating her in every
way Hko all tho others. The curios
ity that Barbara felt was In reality
something in tho nature of a protest
against a remark made by her moth
er that society would not nccept, un
der any conditions, a servant Into its
circle, nnd that not even Mrs. Vane
with nil her wealth and eccentricity
nnd social standing could really do
anything to remove tho barrier that
other peoplo would at once throw up
against her.
No sooner had Barbara perceived
that Mrs. Vane was perfectly willing
to do what sho asked, and indeed
looked forward to it with a kind of
peculiar zest, than sho began to re
gret having asked her. Nothing would
bo gained by it one way or the oth
er, she said to herself hesitatingly as
she pondered over it. What if sho
should bo welcomed for herself? That
would prove nothing and help noth
ing. She would go to Mrs. Vnno next
day, and ask her to forgive a foolish
impulse that had no good reason for
existing; and that would be the xend
of it.
But before she had found on after
noon to go and seo Mrs. Vano that
energetic lady had Invited her com
pany, and It was too late, llaroara
said to herself that sho would re
fuse her own Invitation and not go,
but Mrs. Vnno next day wrote a char
acteristic note urging Barbara not to
disapoiut her.
"You must not hesitate to como for
fear of putting me In any awkward posi
tion, my dear. I am Independent of any
verdict of selfish society, and the few
friends who do know und love me will
treat you as If you were a member of my
own family, and you may be surprised at
some things yourself. For I have found
after u much longer life than yours that
there Is still a good deal of human kind
ness yet, even among peoplo of wealth
and so-called fashion. On the whole, how
ever, you will bo doomed to meet with
what you undoubtedly expect. Wealth and
family connections und, above all, position
are counted greatest In the kingdom of
men. Tho tlmo will come when tho llrst
shall be last and the last llrst; and, when
that tlmo comes, servant girls will be as
good as duke's daughters and eat at tho
samo banquets. You are not willing to
wait until then; so como to my feast and
prepare to be overlooked. But don't stay
away for fear of hurting me. The only
way you can hurt me Is to misunderstand
me. I don't mind that from my enemies.
They don't know any better. Rut my
friends ought to. Your friend,
"MRS. VANE."
This letter put Barbara more or
less at her ease; und, when tho night
of tho gathering come, sho went to
it quite self-possessed and prepared
for anything. Tho reality of it sho
was not prepared for in tho least,
and among all her experiences she
counted this the most remarkable.
It was to bo rather a large gather
ing; and when Barbara arrived tho
front rooms were quite well filled.
Mrs. Vane introduced her to three or
four ladles standing in the front hall.
Ono of them was a young woman
about Barbara's age, elegantly
dressed and very distinguished lock
ing, oven to Barbara. Her name was
Miss Dillingham.
"My mother was n Dillingham,"
said Barbara, simply, as on opening'
remark for conversation.
"Indeed. Your name is "
"Miss Clark." said Barbara.
"O, yes, .Miss Clark. What brunch
of the DilliiighnniK, may I ask? The
Vermont Dlllinghams?"
"Yes. Mother's fnther vvu irom
Washington county."
"How interesting!" The young
woman smiled in a very Interesting
mnnncr at Barbara. "Then we must bo
related somewhere. Our family is
from tho samo county. Is your fa
ther living here In Crawford?"
"Father died last year," said Bar
bara, returning tho young woman's
look of Interest.
"It's rather strange I have not met
you before,"' said Miss Dillingham.
"You have been shut in on account
of your father's death." Sho looked
at Barbara's simple black silk dress,
which was Barbara's one party dress,
very plain, but in perfect taste in
every way. "But I thought I knew
all the Dillinghams of tho Vermont
branch. Mother will want to meet
you."
"Is she here to-night?" asked Bar
bara. "Yes. She's in the other room some
where. Ah I There's tho new minis
ter of Marble Square church, Mr.
Morton!" Miss Dillingham exclaimed.
"I didn't know that ho had come yet.
I think he Is perfectly splendid. Have
you ever heard him preach?"
"Yes, I heard him once," replied
Barbara; nnd tho next moment Mr.
Morton hnd caught sight of them,
and came out into the hall and greet
ed them.
"Good evening, Miss Clark. I'm very
glad to meet you again. And you,
Miss Dillingham," he said in his sim
ple but hearty manner.
"You are good at remembering
names," said Barbara, because she
could not think of anything brilliant
to say. "I've understood that one of
the difllcultics for ministers is tho
task of remembering so many peo
ple." "Yes, I've heard Uncle James say,"
spoke up Miss Dillingham, brightly
"Uncle James is rector of St. Mark's
in Crawford," she nodded by way of
explanation to Barbara "I've heard
him say that he could remember
names that began with certain let
ters, but that ho was completely for
getful of others. It must be very nico
to have a distinguished memory for
people's names. It is such a pleasing
ilnttery to the people who are ad
dressed. Every ono likes to be re
membered. He takes it as a special
compliment."
"I don't know that I can claim any
special faculty in that direction," the
young minister replied, smiling.
"Your nnmes come near the begin
ning of the alphabet, C and D. Per
haps that helps me. The fartner ono
gets into the alphabet, the more in
tricate and difllcult the matter be
comes." "It's n very uu-ppointing explana
tion, Mr. Morton," said Miss Dilling
ham, laughing. "We hoped, at least
I did, that it was something personal
about ourselves that made you re
member us."
"What, for example?" said Morton,
gravely.
"For example, our our looks, or "
Miss Dillingham turned to Barbara.
"What should you say, Miss Clark?"
"Or our occupations," suggested
Barbara, coloring a little.
"But we've no occupations," said
Miss Dillinghnin, carelessly. "At
least, I haven't any since finishing at
Vassar. Mother wants mo to study
photography. What would you say,
Mr. Morton?"
"I?" The young man seemed un
prepared for an answer. "0, 1 should
say you would take a very good pic
ture." "Now, that's certainly a compli
ment, isn't it, Miss Clark?" she ex
claimed, laughing again. "And yet
they told me you couldn't talk small
talk, Mr. Morton."
"I was trying to retrieve my blun
der about the memory of the names,"
said Mr. Morton, laughing with them.
"But, if you really want my opinion
about the photography, I think it
would be a good thing for you to
learn it. I believe everyone ought to
have an occupation of some kind."
"Even society young women?"
"Yes, even they," Morton answered
with his characteristic gravity, which,
however, was not at an gloomy or
morose. Young women like Miss Dil
lingham liked it, and spoke of it as
fascinating. The reason It was fas
cinating was that It revealed a genu
ine seriousness in life. Not morbid,
but interesting.
"What would you have us do, then?
What can society girls like Miss
Clark and myself do?"
Miss Dillingham asked the question
seriously, or thought she did.
"Really, I am not competent to de
termine your duty in tho matter,"
the young man answered, looking
earnestly at Barbara, although Miss
Dillingham hod asked the question.
"Perhaps Miss Clark can answer bet
ter than I can."
To Re Continued. 1
Practical llcnclU.
Ilivers You've been having your
hair singed, haven't you? What good
does that do?
Brooks For a man of your age and
experience, Uivers, you ignorance
sometimes astonishes me. It does the
barber a quarter's worth of good.
Chicago Tribune.
Your TroulilcN,
Keep your l roubles to yourself and
everybody will feel sorry for you, but
tell them and everybody will laugh.
Washington (la.) Democrat.
HUMOROUS.
Glad When Ho Stops. "I admire
that pianist's finish. Don't you?"
"Yes; but I always drcod his begin
nings'Philadelphia Bulletin.
'"Bitter cold, isn't it? Have any
troublokceping warm at your house?"
"Oh, no. Wo have a blanket mort
gage on tho place, you know." In
dianapolis News.
Edith "I want to tell you some
thing, Bertha. Mr. Swcetser tells mo
ho loves me." Bertha "Oh, I wouldn't
let that trouble me. Fred always was
eccentric." Boston Transcript.
No Flattery. Miss Hoamley "I un
derstand you do very handsome work
and make very pretty pictures." Pho
tographer "Yes'm, but I could glvo
you on exact likeness If you wish."
Philadelphia Press.
"I detest cigarettes," petulantly ex
claimed tho villain of the play. "Can't
I smoke a cigar in this scene in
stead?" "No; the cigarette is essen
tial," replied tho stage manager. "You
are a very depraved sort of villain,,
you know." Kansas City Star.
When the day came for taking tho
collection In the Sundny school, tho
children were asked if tlicy remem
bered any texts appropriate to tho
occasion. A Httlo boy held up his
hnnd and repeated: "The fool "d his
money ore soon parted." Christian
Advocate.
"Ah, will I never be released?"
walled tho imprisoned heroine, beat
ing her fair white hands wildly
against the bars of her window, while
from behind the scenes could be heard
the hoarse chuckle of the villain.
Many in the audience were seen to
apply their handkerchiefs to their
eyes. Her prayers for release rose
agnln upon the still nlr and lost
themselves in tho echoing flies above.
"Either git a habbyus corpus, leddy,"
shouted a friend from the gallery,
"cr walk out over de footlights."
And the curtain came down with a
whizz. Baltimore American.
AN INDIAN GIRL EDITOR.
Young? ClicroUoc Woman "Who Ptili-
IInIich a MiiK'nKlne Devoted to
lied Mcu'h IntercMtM,
Miss Margaret Eddleman, a young
Cherokee woman, is the editor and
publisher of the Twin Territories, a
32-pnge magazine, filled with matter
calculated to Interest people living in
Oklahoma and Indian territory. The
magazine was started three years
ago by Miss Eddleman, with the help
of her elder sister. The latter mar
ried some time since, and the entire
work now devolves upon Miss Eddlc
man, soys tho Chicago Chronicle.
Among her contributors are vari
ous Indian chiefs of the five civilized
tribes. None of these contributors
accept nny money for their work, as
they are rich, but they have to be
handled with great diplomacy.
Previous to the establishment of
Twin Territories, Miss Eddleman
worked with her father as a reporter
upon the Muskogee Evening Times.
This gave her her first taste for lit
erary work, and she improved it.
The fame of tho Twin Territories
nnd its Indinn publisher has spread.
Not long ngo a magazine publisher in
London sought an article upon Miss
Eddleman and her literary work.
Although she never speaks of her
ancestry, not, as she explains, that
sho is ashamed of being a redskin,
she has a "head right" among the
Cherokees, and owns a good farm
and participates in their regular dis
tribution of tribal funds. Indeed, it
was from her tribal income that she
secured enough money to launch her
enterprise.
Miss Eddleman is not yet 20 years
old. Her form is slender and grace
ful, and she Is considered one of the
social lights and beauties of the five
tribes, where the beauty of the wom
en is far famed. Editorial writing is
not the gift of Miss Eddleman, for
under the pen name of Migno
Shreiber she has published several
serials in magazines. "Only an In
dian Girl," "Lizouki, tho Creek Girl,"
and "A Pnir of Moccasins" aro some
of her stories which have won atten
tion nnd praise from leading critics.
ItrltlNh Navnl Dincliillnc.
A curious story of English naval
discipline has just found its way into
print. When the Ophlr, with the duke
and duchess of Cornwall on board, was
neoring St. Helena the signal wns
made to tho attendnnt cruisers St.
George and Juno, as it wns desirable
to reach port before nightfall: "Can
you steam another knot?" and the
Juno replied: "Yes, four if you
please." Th'rs answer was regarded
as impertinent, and when the vessels
reached Portsmouth, as a mild form of
punishment tho Juno was ordered to
lie up the harbor, vhlle the more re
spectful St. George came alongside tho
dockyard. And tho Juno, at lust ac
counts, is lying at her moorings still.
N. Y. Commercial Advertiser.
Troubled of the It It'll,
Mrs. Cobwigger 1 suppose you find
your social duties much more oner
ous since you became so rich?
Mrs. Parvenue Yes, indeed, my
dear. 1 have had to cultivate aii en
tirely new set of acquaintances.
Judge.
X
A
A-
4
i.
.-. ..'.a.
dfa&if