I .. '
^O’NEILLBUSINESS DIRECTORY
P^H. BENEDICT,
LAWYER.
1
OtBoe la the Judge Robert! building, north
of O. O. Snyder's lumber yard.
O NEILL _ NEB.
R. DICKSON
ATTORNEY AT LAW
, Keferenoe Pint National Bonk
O'NEILL, NEB
a. J. KfKIGr
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW AND NOTARY
- PUBLIC -
Office oppoeite U. 8. land office
O’NEILL, NEB.
tS ABNEY STEWART,
PRACTICAL AUCTIONEER.
Satisfaction guaranteed.
Address, Page, Neb
rvB. P. J. FLYNN
;#
PHYCIAN AND SURGEON
fiOffice over Corrigan’s, first door to right
Night calls promptly attended.
M. P. KINKAID
LAWYER
a }, Office over Elkhorn Valley Bank.
V O’NEILL. NEB,
■|YH. J. P. GILLIGAN,
f PHY8ICIAN AND SURGEON,
Office in Holt County Bank building
p Orders left at our drug store or at my
Residence first street north and half
mlock east of stand pipe will receive
prompt response, as I have telephone
.(jpnnections.
ffiNBILL, _ NEB.
Scottish sharoh,
Or GREYT" WEB 153330,
^'Assisted by Imported KING TOM 171879.
* Both prize-winning bulls of
the Pan-American, heads the Ak-Sar
Ben home herd of Shorthorns. Young
hulls for sale.
T J. M. ALDERSON & SONS,
Chambers, ... Nebraska.
n U. L. bnlUrl I 5
. f REAL ESTATE AND IN- ]
[ SURANCE.
►, Choice ranches, farms and town 5
*r. lots for sate cheap and on easy j
{ terms. All kinds of land busf- 1
l ness promptly attended to. a
Represents some of the best j
M1 insurance companies doing bus
^ t iness in Nebraska. a
, ^^otarv Work Properly Executed j
*1 _
Sc. B.T.Tc)ikUoo«
H' SPECIATLIESI
iYE, EAR, NOSE AND THROAT
- Dpectaole, correctly fitted and Supplied.
O'NEILL, NEB.
! jT ■ " " - -— ■ ■ 1 '■ ' ' ~T
r. J. LUbHJMiK
i f SUCCESSOR TO !;
ff A. B. NEWELL
REAL ESTATE 1
| ^ O’NEILL, NEBRASKA |
'Selling and leasing farms and ranches
l|azes paid and lands inspected for non
residents. Parties desiring to buy or
| rent land owned by non-residents give
me a call, will look up the owners and
f procure the land for you.
j O'Neill —
Abstracting Co
Compiles
y. Abstracts of Title
ONLY COMPLETE SET OF AB
$IRAOT BOOKS IN HOLT COUNT?
O’NBILIj, NEB,
HOTEL
| -Evans
Enlarged
Refurnished
' • \ Refitted
Only First-class Hotel
In the City
X W. T. EVANS, Prop
4
r..— f
: The New Market j
Having leased the Gate Market £
and thoroughly renovated the t
same we are now ready to sup- t
; ,i ply you wiilfc choice Fresh and fc
Salt Meats, Ham, Bacon, Fish. £
In fact everything to be found f
in a Hirst-class market. We l
< invite your patronage : t
[
Leek & Blackmerj
Z*
rt
Severe Attack Of Grip
Cured by One Bottle of Chamberlain's
Cough Remedy.
“When I had an attack of tbe grip
last winter (the second one) l actually
cured myself with one bottle of Cham
berlain’s Cough Remedy,” says Frank
W. Perry, Editor of the Enterprise,
Shortsville, N. Y. “This is the hon
est truth. 1 at times kept from cough
ing myself to pieces by taking a tea
spoonful of this remedy, and when the
coughing spell would come on at night
I would take a dose and it seemed
that in the briefest interval the cough
would pass off and I would go to sleep
perfectly free from cough and its ac
companying pains. To say that the
remedy acted as a most agreeable sur
prise is putting it very mildly. I had
no idea that it would or could knock
out the grip, simply because I had
never tried it for such a purpose, but
it did, and it seemed witli the second
attack of coughing the remedy caused
it to not onla be of less duration, but
the pains were far less severe, and I
had not used the contents of one bot
tle before Mr. Grip had bid me adieu.”
For sale by P. C. Corrigan.
Great Northern Railway
W. & S. F. RY.
Through daily service to Minneapo
lis and St. Paul with direct connec
tions for all points in Minnesota,
North Dakota and west to Pacific
Coast. Through sleeping car service.
Apply to any agent for rates, folders
and descriptive matter.
Fred Rogers,
Genl. Pass. Agt.
Danger of Colds and Grip.
The greatest danger from colds and
grip is their resulting in pneumonia.
If reasonable care is used, however,
and Chamberlain’s Cougli Remedy
taken, all danger will avoided.
Among the tens of thousands who
have used this remedy for these dis
eases we have yet to learn of a single
case having resulted in pneumonia,
which shows conclusively that it is a
certain preventive of that dangerous
disease. It will cure a cold or an at
tack of the grip in less time than any
other treatment. It is pleasant and
safe to toke. For sale by P. C Corri
gan.
In every town
and village
may be had
the
j
that makes your l
horses glad. |
Shorthorn'Bulls md Heifers.
SCOTCh tops on best BATES fami
lies, 35 BULLS 14 to 26 mo. old. 2C
HEIFERS and 10 COWS bred to oui
tine Scotch bull MISSIES PRINCE
75402. Over 200 head in heard to select
from. These are the cattle for western
men,as they are acclimated. Come and
see them or write for prices.
THE BROOK FARM CO.,
J. R. Thomas, foreman,O’Neill. Holt Co..Neb
n
H
Ctf
0
fc
(«
0
c
a
Purchase Tickets and Consign youi
Freight via the
TIME TABLE
Chicago & Northwestern Ry,
TRAINS EAST
fPassenger, No. 4, 3:45 a. m.
♦Passenger, No. 6, 9:52 u m.
♦Freight, No. 116, 4:25 p. m.
fE’reight, No. 64, 12:01 p. m,
TRAINS WEST
fPassenger, No. 5, 2:50 p. m.
♦Passenger, No. 3, 10:05 p. m,
♦Freight, No 119, 5:32 p. m.
tFreight, No. 63, 2:50 p. m.
The service is greatly improved bj
the addition of the new passengei
trains Nos. 4 and 5; No. 4 arrives in
Omaha at 10:35 a. m arrives at Sioux
City at 9:15 a. m. No. 5 leaves Omaha
at 7:15 a. m., leaves Sioux City at 7:5(
a. m.
‘Daily; tDally, except Sunday.
E. R. Adams, Agent
Griffin Bros.
MERCHANT
TAILORS
O’Neill, Nebraska.
~~ THE CITY LIGHTS.
Bright ami clear In sable darkness.
Or in silent moonlit nights.
Dances on the water’s starkness
Gleaming of the city lights.
Darkest pall of springtime showers.
Silentnoss of falling enow,
Both must yield their weaker power#
To the city lights' bright glow.
To the farmer on the prairie.
When the shadows deeply fall.
Light appears to eyelids weary.
And ’’All's well” his hearty oalL
To the tramp that wanders cheerless,
Comes to give his heart delight.
Make him dauntless, make him fearless
Aye, the sheen of city light.
To the storm-tossed sailor steering.
Brave his ship as waves it fights.
Beats his heart at far appearing
Of the gleam of city lights.
Thou art welcome, cheer bestowing;
Welcome most of all our sights.
For In us the home-warmth’s growing,
At the gleam of city lights.
6 His Six Months O
Q in Lumber Camp 0
A few afternoons ago a tall, sinewy,
fine looking man of 35 or so stepped
with his wife, a singularly handsome
woman. Into a blue and red automo
bile in front of a great city hotel. The
man had an air of distinction. A
wealthy Michigan lumberman, buried
deep In a leather chair at one of the
hotel windows, nodded smilingly in the
direction of the fine looking man, who
had just stepped Into the auto along
side his lovely wife.
‘‘Nilty looking boy to've been a cook
in a lumber camp, eh?” said the lum
berman.
"Which, of course, he never was,”
•aid the Michigander’s companion.
"Don’t you believe that, he wasn’t,”
•aid the lumberman. “I come pretty
near knowing, for I was the foreman
of his outfit, and we had a great talk
and laugh over the whole business at
dinner in this hotel yesterday. I’m
rather proud of the boy, and I feel
a sort of proprietary Interest In him
yet.
“But I didn’t Know anything about
him, much less who he was, when he
braced me for a cook’s Job in Alpena,
Mich., twelve years ago last fall. I
was a foreman then, and engaged in
hiring a gang to take Into the Michi
gan woods for the winter's work. I’d
pretty well filled the crew up, but was
•till shy a cook for the outfit—lumber
eamp cooks are hard to get. It was
pretty near time to take the gang
into the camp, and I was becoming
worried about my inability to snag a
cook, when one day a young fellow
with a dissipated look about him
steered in my direction and tackled
me for the cook’s billet. He was
somewhat roughly dressed, hut. for all
that he didn’t strike mo as being any
thing like a lumber camp cook. He
had a pretty good edge on when he
applied for the Job, but that didn’t
bother me any—lumbermen generally
keep their Jags a-going pretty comfort
ably until they make camp for the sea
son's work, and once in camp there i*,
ef course, no liquor for any of them.
I asked this young fellow if be bad
ever cooked In a lumber camp before,
and he said no. Then I inquired what
made him think he could dish up the
grub for a wood gathering outfit, and
he told me that he had picked up the
knack cl’ cooking In the course of a
number of big game hunting trips in
the Far West. I wasn’t, however, tak
ing his plain word for it that he’d suit
as a cook, and so I led him to the
boarding house where I had my gang
sheltered end put him In the kitchen
to try him out. Despite the palpable
bun that he had on—which he kept
polished up by means of frequent
draughts from a big flask that he had
along with him—he made good. I
could see at once from the way he
rassled the pots and skillets and
tackled the Job of getting that board
ing house dinner that he was onto the
curves of the cook’s billet, so I took
him on at $55 a month.
"Two days later we struck for the
camp, away up near Lake Superior. It
A young fellow with a dlaaipated look
tackled me for a cook's billet.
took us four days to make the big
bunk house headquarters, and during
that time my oook had a pretty tough
fight with the katzenjammer. He
looked as If be had been on a long
spree, and as all booze was forbldfien
from the beginning of the run to camp,
and Ms supply had run out, with no
way of replenishing it, there was no
other plan for him but to sober up.
It was plain that the job wasn’t any
easy one for him, either, but he war
game, not putting up a*y gross 01
grumble, but Just taking his medlgine
like a man. I never saw a man plek
up so fast as that young fallow did
during the fin* month of his emfdOf
ment as a lumber ramp cook. Hl»
skin cleared up, his eye brightened,
and he took on flesh.
"He turned out to bo the best all
around cook that I ever saw In a lum
ber camp, and I had been going Into
the woods then for a dozen years.
After about a month or so ho began
to mingle up with the Indoor sports
of the men after supper, and ho won
the bunch completely by the lino abil
ity ho displayed as a boxer and
wrestler—and when I got him he look
ed so run down that I doubted If he
could stand the gaff. There was a
fiddle In the ca»op that had been left
there from the previous winter, and
the things that cook could do to the
Instrument were sure a heap. The
cook nursed the victims of the inevi
table accidents of lumber camps, and
he showed a surprising amount of sur
gical and medical skill. I had my eye
on that young fellow, and I didn’t
want him to get away from me. So,
when April came around and the drive
was over, and we broke camp, I herd
ed him up in a corner all by himself
and says I to him:
“ ‘Jack, you’re in too fine trim right
now, after the long let-up from the
red eye, to take and stuff your hide
with it again, now that you're loose.
All of the boys’ll get b’lllng, of course,
as soon as we hit the first rum shack,
and I may go up against a few balls
myself, hut ww'r# all tough birds, and
He looked like the real merchandise.
we know how to handle It and get
away with. it. You’d better paBs tt up
yourself or it’ll land you. Take your
dough and go on home to your people
and have a deeent, clvlltied visit with
'em. And I vast y»U to tarn op la
Alpena again next fall and I’ll take
you into camp at $70 a month. How
about it?’
“The eook smiled and said he'd see
about It. As the trip to the boat that
was to carry us down to Detroit
progressed I wag glad to see that mj
words of advice had aparently stuck
with the cook. He didn’t taka a drink,
although all the rest of the boys were,
of course, gpifflcated and rioting dur
ing the whole trip.
1 WHS puzzivu, His lua uitjvr
nigh to Detroit, to see the captain of
the boat hand my cook a fine-looking
and bulgy grip. Hut I was not asking
any questions. Half an hour after get
ting the grip the cook emerged from
the captain’s room wearing about as
swagger an outfit of togs as ever you’ll
see off of a fashion plate. He looked
like the real merchandise, but the
thing was still a-plenty mysterious to
me.
"The boat tied up at her pier in De
troit, and then my employer, one of
the richest lumbermen in Michigan,
rushed up the gangway, and the first
thing I knew he had my cook in his
arms and was pattlog him on his
shoulders for all he was worth.
“ 'By the Lord, son, now you look
like the man you ought to be!’ the old
man was saying to my cook, and then
the cat was out of the bag. My cook
was my employer’s scapegrace son,
of whom I had often heard. The
boy had been in hot water, owing
to his addiction to the old stuff, ever
since hia early youth. He had been
banished from Heidelberg, where he
was getting his education, for alco
holic pranks, and upon his return to
Michigan he had embarked on a series
of colossal toots that had almost
driven hia family to distraction. He
had been offered the alternative of go
ing into the woods for a winter of so
bering up and hard work or of being
cast off altogether by his dad, and he
had the good sense of taking the so
bering up end of it. The ecamp was
just the thing he needed to thoroughly
work the *.quor out of his system and
build him up, and lie has never taken
a drink from the time I saw him go
through his fight with that ‘after feel
ing’ on our way to the camp. His dad
was ao grateful for what he foolishly
imagined I had done for the boy that
ha made me "general superintendent of
all his lumber interests. The young
man you saw entering the automobile
a few moments ago with as pretty a
wife as Michigan has produced took
charge of the great business when his
father died a few years ago. All of
which is why I am of the opinion that
six months in a northern lumber camp
is better for inebriates than all of the
‘jag cures’ that were ever invented.’’—
Washington Star.
Pumped the Witness Dry.
Recorder Goff of New York occa
sionally says humorous things with a
dry air.
Recently before him a lawyer cross
arcamired a witwess so exhaustively
that the poor man, beginning to lyse
ills voice, had to pause to ask foi a
gifts* of water.
The Recorder, a faint smile playing
about his lips, said to the active law
yer as the witness drank:
“1 thought you'd pump him dry."
From His Mammy's Side.
BY WILLIAM LIGHTFQOT V13S
CHER.
(Copyright, 190S, by Dally Story P»b Co.)
“Halnt you a Hunter?”
I was not a bit astonished, though I
had never seen the man before. But
this was down in Kentucky, whore
people are not afraid to speak to each
other, even though they have not been
"properly introduced.”
I was sitting on the sway-backed
fence, In front of my Aunt Botsy's
sway-backed house, being a visitor
there for the first time since boyhood.
My questioner was a native who
happened to be passing. He had a
bushy and Iron-gray beard, that was
also tangled; he wore the wreck of
a broad straw hat that was weather
beaten, and a large piece was gone
from one side of the brim, as If an
eager and hungry cow had bitten It
out for fodder. His Jeans trousers
were held up by one yarn suspender
that was fastened to the garment In
front with a wooden peg. His coat
was a loose, soiled and butternut af
fair, ripped about the armpit* ind
frayed at the cuffs. Yet he was a
pleasant enough looking person, as to
countenance, and waB only In his
everyday working clothes. I learned
afterward that he rvas Jwtlee of the
peace there, and I have never been
able to understand how his official
work oonld have been so hard on his
habllhnent.s.
"Yes, sir; I’m a Hunter," I replied.
“Gee! You aint little Tug Hunter,
ar’ you?"
"Well, I’m not so little, seelnr that
I weigh about a hundred and ninety
pounds, but I am Joseph Huntor. who
used to be called Tug in tbeae parts
fifteen or twenty years ago.”
"1 saw that you had the favor of
the Huntors an’ seeln’ you settin’
heah on yo’ aunt's fence I 'lowed you
was a Hunter, an’ maybe Tug, that
went ’way off yander, while ago. Doan
seem so long ago, nuther. But then
when the shadders takes to failin’
toads the east, back yander doan seem
so long as it does to a young man.”
"Speaking of the East. I see you
have traveled some,*’ I said, having
observed a little Masonic pin that he
wore on his hickory-shirt front.
"Yes, bon some distance that way,”
he replied with a touch of pride. "An1
I reckln you've seen a monst'ous sight
•’ the world sence you went away?”
"Been pretty nigh all over It.”
“You doan say!"
"Yes."
mighty sight o’ Kalntuckians. So
many’s gone away from here. An' they
ar’ ginnally cuttin’ a pooty big swath,
aint thoy?”
"Yes, but then there are a great
many people in the world cutting a
big swath besides Kentuckians.”
“Well, yes, I Towed thar waz, but
ef I wuz you I wouldn’t say a heap
on that subjic while I wuz around
heah. Kalntuckians Is monst'ously
sot on Kalntucky, you know.”
“Yes, I know all about it. I was
very much that way myself until I had
a chance to look over the earth a lit
tle, and my ideas have changed some
what.”
"Lemme tell you. I wuz pooty nigh
fo’ years in the on-clvll war, on the
Union side; sence that I’ve raised a
good many pooty fa’r hawses and got
broke. Qlttln old, too. Hawse bizniss,
them days, sometimes tuck me to New
York, an’ Chicago, an’ out West, an’
one place er nuther, an’ that set me to
philosophizes I tuck notice that a
heap er Kalntuckians wuz mo, Kain
tuck when they wuz way off yander
than they wuz at home. They called
for cawn-bread, mighty loud, In the
Willard House at Washin’ton, but
they tuck hot biskits, ever time at
home, when they wuz on the table.
Whut's mo’ I’ve hearn of model Kain
tucklans ’mongst big men, out In New
York, an’ heah and thar, that wuz
noted fur the liquor they could drink,
an’ the poker they could play, an’
when you come to Agger ’em down
they warnt bawn Kalntuckians, at all,
but come heah from sommers else, an'
pooty soon got to out-Kalntuck the
Kalntuckians.
"Howsmever, lemme tell you some
r— ——i
“Haln’t You a Hunter?”
mo’. Thar is such a thing as Kaln
tucky characteristics, of the kind you
hear about an’ read about. But all
through, thar’s jest as much difrunce
twlxt the Kaintucky gentleman an’ the
Kalntucky squirt as thar is twlxt the
Irish gentleman an’ the Irish tarrier.
The difrunce lays in whether he’s
raised in Ignorance an' oneryness, or
otherwise.
“Never know’d old Major Downey, I
reekln?”
“No.”
“Case In pint. Heap er Kaintuck in
hi*. He was a pessimer—whutever
that la. Had a mighty good farm over
heah on Cabin crick—aae-ln-iaw farms
It ylt. Ef it sot Into rain the old
majoi up an’ ’lowed It wuz goln’ to
rala all spring an' ther wouldn't be
any cawn planted fo’ June. Ef the
sun come out a day er two, he jls
kuow’d thsr'd be a drout an’ not er
nutt stuff raised to feed folks, let
alone fatten haugs, so he kep hissef
tollable mlsabul, an’ ole Mis Downey
skeered that bad she worked hersef to
skin an’ bones, savin’ an’ serins pin
Downey was good as’ mean like soma
bacon—a strsak er lean an er etreak
er fat. He wuz great for line cattle
cn’ hankerin’ to Improve kle breed.
Still he ’lowed it couldn’t he done, an
(hat the stock in everything wuz run
oln’ out. On# time he bought a Dur
ham bull for 'bout a thousand dollar*
an- how he ever got the critter home
alnt fur me to say, fur It wuz the sav
agest brute anywhar, an’ twuz bout at
much as anybody’s life wuz worth to
go In a paster Wkar the beast wuz,
“Down on the crlek jlnein his farm
wuz a rickety cabin. Onery white
man name Cull lived In it. His wife
wuz dead an lucky fur it, an' he had a
ten-year-old boy that waa the trlfllnlst
little halley In ten states. He wuz
oternally Hingin’ rocks an' things, let
"7~JF17 inM i,/.
! I
"Howdy, Gentlemenl”
tin’ down bars an’ leavin’ open gate*
on Downey’s place, an’ sometimes
hangs would git In an reot up some
blue-grass. The major hated a hang
’cause he said, one on ’em could root
up mo' blue-grass than a drove of ’em
wuz worth. I dunno whlca he hated
most, Cull’s boy er haugs.
“Howsmever, one day the major
wuz rldln’ home from whai he’d been
shootln’ squlrls, down In the hickory
bottom. Passiu’ the paster whar his
cattle wuz, all of a suddent he saw
that boy er Cull’s cornin’, lickety-spllt,
over the hill outen a holler In the pas
ter, an’ that Durham atter him, bell
erln’ an' snortin’, an It looked like It
wuz alt day fur that young un.
Downey never Btopped to think how
much the bull wuz worth nor how
triflin that boy wuz. He raised his
rifle nn' when she cracked that bull
fell dead as a do’naii.
"That wuz the Kaintuck In the old
man.
“He rid on home, cussln’ wild In
two languages, fur he’d ben a captain
In the Mlxlkln waugh an* he could
talk Spanish till It sl&zed.
"Day er two atter that thlsh yer
Cull up an died with somethin’ sud
dent, an’ what does the old major do
but have Cull buried an’ take that
triflin boy an’ raise an educate him
Said he had to do somethin’ to git
even on the loss of the bull. Lemma
tell you. That wuz mo’ of the Kain
tuck in him.
“That boy grow’d up to be one o’ the
finest men In the state. Boy warut
actually bad. Jes wanted raisin’ right,
I tell you ef a scrub calf Is tuck outen
the knobs an put onter blue-grass It's
goln’ to make a good critter, an’ you
kin put a shawt-hawn heifer out In
the peavine an’ it will make a mighty
sorry cow. Howsmever, this Lem Cuii
had a good strain o’ blood lu him from
somewhar—mammy's side I reckln—
fur lie come out monst'ous well—best
farmer in these parts, an' he’s Sinator
from this deestrlk. Married old Dow
ney’s flatter, an’ the major used to say
the whole place would er gone to—
never mind—ef It hadn't er been for
the boy.
“Damph that ain’t him cornin’ a
spllttln’ down the pike yander now!"
A handsome, straight-backed, white
moustached, gray-halred young man
who sat his horse like Buffalo BUI,
dashed by and lifted his cavalierisb
hat to us with “Howdy, gentlemen.”
A yellow, one-eyed dog that had
been asleep in Aunt Betsy’s yard,
raised his pathetic face and looked
astonished, a game rooster with a cape
like a buzzard’s plume falling over his
shoulders, flew on to tho sway-backed
fence and crowed defiance to a domi
nicker braggart across the way, the
’squire returned: “Howdy Colonel
Cull” to the horseman’s salutation am
moved away, saying:
"Head turned white when the bull
chased him. Owah lodge meets to
night. Jine us.”
Pensions for Teachers.
Thirty-two of Boston's former public
school teachers draw pensions from
the Boston Teachers’ Retirement
Fund. The fund Is now nearly $68,000.
Each active public school teacher who
is a member of the association pays
$18 yearly Into the fund, and upon re
tirement becomes eligible to Its bene
fits, If he or she has taught thirty
I years in the aggregate and at least
ten years in the public day schools of
Boston. In case of physical incapacity,
however, a teacher may derive benefit
from the fund If he has taught two
years in the city’s public schools, but
the annuity stops If he regains his
| health and working ability.