*
INTRODUCTORY SALE
Saturday we open our new place, con
sisting of Men’s and Ladies’ Clothing,
Furnishings, Shoes, etc We want to
meet everyone in our store, therefore
we will sell for the first week all the
goods we have on hand at exactly
HALF PRICE
This offer is only for the first 7 days,
beginning Saturday, Fubuary 11, 1 p.
m., to Saturday, February 18, 10 p. m.
Come and get your share —it is the greatest bargain ever offered
J. Helphand Clothing Co.
Located in old Gladu Meat Market Building
JOINT PUBLIC SALE
At Caldwell Ranch 4 m. north O’Neill
Monday, F eb. 20
13 head of horses and mules
17 head of cattle
30 head of hogs
Farm machinery, house
hold goods, etc.
The nsual terms. See the bills
C. Patterson and R. King;
Public Sale!
6 miles north of O’Neill
TUESDAY, FEB. 21
16 head of good Horses
4 milch cows, 15 brood sows, 15 shoats
Far h machinery, 1400 bushels of
corn and oats, furniture, etc.
P. E. KEENAN
Usual terms given. See bills
Sale bills l
i> ii'Otiow «cp h inmttmimmt won
#*-.'• -*■■*- . •
1 am an artist. Being in poor health
my doctor ordered me abroad, and I
went to Florence, Italy.
1 rented rooms of a widow and hei
daughter, of the name of Micele. They
occupied the top floor of a building on
the river Arno. 1 used a front room
for a studio and a rear room for a bed
room. The mother was a middle aged
woman, the daughter about twenty
five. Their ancestors had been well
off. but their estate had melted away,
and Senora Micele and her daughter
got on with difficulty. Bianca, the
daughter, was an artist, but an lndlf
ferent one.
Nevertheless there was something
remarkable about Bianca Micele. She
was neither pretty nor homely. The
eyes of the Italians are handsome, but
Senorina Micele’s eyes were more than
handsome; they were, so to speak,
compelling. That Is, when she looked
out of them at me I felt a strangi
force compelling me to do her bidding:
Not that there was apparent exercise
of will. She was gentleness itself. The
power she exercised was rather per
suasive than forceful.
Not long after I arrived in Florence
I fell ill and did not leave my bed for
weeks. Senora Micele and her daugh
ter both nursed me.
A portion of the time I was in either
a stupor or delirium, I don’t know
which. At such times I was very
weak and on coming to myself usually
felt as if I had been doing exhaustive
work, though I had been in my bed
ail the while, where it would not have
been possible for me to do any work
even if 1 had been mentally capable.
My illness occurred during the win
ter, and when the spring came on and
the weather began to warm up Senora
Micele used to put me in an easy chair
and wheel me out on to one of those
little balconies common in Florence
houses. We were on the Arno em
bankment (the Lung Arno, they call it
there), in sight of the green hills that
surround the city. Indeed, from my
balcony I could see some six or seven
miles distant the heights on which
Fiosole, the original Florentine settle
ment, was made. During three more
months I spent much of the day on
this balcony in fancy painting pictures
of the scenes spread out before me.
One of these was the undulating plain
beyond the city’s edge nnd the heights
of Fiosole beyond the plain. There is
a big clock tower at Fiosole which it
seemed to me would make an attrac
tive feature in rpy imaginary picture
and I spent hours working it in. An
other view I dreamed of was the Arno,
directly beneath me, winding under
its arched bridges toward the south,
and other nearer nnd consequently
greener hills. There is something in
the atmosphere of Italy to intensify
the color of a landscape, and on such
days I delighted in the imaginative
painting I could not do in reality.
But I always noticed that such days
instead of giving me strength drew
upon what I had.
Fortunately I recovered before the
hot weather set in and after convalesc
ing In the Invigorating climate of the
Swiss Alps went to Paris, where I re
mained some time.
Strolling one day down one of the
Parisian boulevards, I stepped into a
picture shop. The dealer, fancying to
make a customer of me, advanced and
questioned me as to what I was look
ing for. It occurred to me to ask for
one of my own pictures, not that I ex
pected to find one, but that to ask for
the work of any special artist would
make it appear that I was not looking
at his wares with no intention of buy
ing.
“Have you anything of Adrian
Giles?” I asked.
“Giles, the American?”
“Yes.”
“Certainly. I have a very remark
able piece of his work. Come this
way."
He led me to one of his display
rooms and up to a picture that had
evidently been hung with considera
ble care. The subject was certainly
familiar to me, for it was the plain I
had overlooked at Florence with the
hills and Fiosole in the distance. And
as I stood looking at it I recognized
not only the identical scene I had
painted in my day dreams, but my in
dividual style. Quickly bending to the
lower left hand corner, a cap was put
upon my astonishment by seeing my
own name.
I caught with both hands at the rail
that extended around the room to
guard the pictures. Here was a view
I had no remembrance of presenting,
hut which I must have painted. It
was some time before I recovered suf
ficient equanimity to further examine
the painting, but when I did so I saw
at once that for the first time in my
life I had portrayed a scene exactly
as I saw It. What I mean is that It
possessed all the reality and beauty
with which my Imagination had en
dowed It.
“W-h-e-r-e did you get It?” I stam
mered.
“From a dealer whom I never saw
before.”
TTotv do >#i knotv It is a genulHd
Giles?"
"I know It because I have seen sev
eral of the artist’s pictures. One other
1 tried to buy, but failed to make u
tleul. Is now displayed In n shop In the
Boulevard des Itallens. You may see
It there. There Is the same unmistak
able Individuality about It as In this.”
“What Is the subject?”
“It is also a Florentine scene, called
‘Up the Arno.’ It takes in the river,
with the hills beyond. It, too, is a
great picture.” i
My knees began to knock together. 1
My Jaws chattered, but not sufficiently
to prevent my asking, “What do ya~
ask for this picture?”
"Twenty thousand francs.”
“Great heavens! I had never re
ceived the half of that for n picture.
I looked at the mnn so astonished that
he hastened to say:
“My profit will be but 500 francs. I
paid 19,500 francs for it”
Taking the number of the shop
whore he said the other picture was
to be seen, I staggered out of the store
and wns soon before the picture I had
also created in dreams. It, too, far
exceeded any work I had ever done.
The denier told me he had paid 27,000
francs for It.
Fortunately I occupied rooms with
an American friend in the Quartier
Latin and rushed home to tell him
that I had discovered something which
If not explained would drive me crazy.
He listened to my story, but 1 could
Bee by Ills expression that he, too,
feared something had occurred to dis
turb my mental balance. He would
express no opinion till he had seen
the paintings, and as l could not re
main quiet 1 Insisted on bis going with
me at once for the purpose. He did
so, and, being familiar with my work,
ho pronounced the pictures mine,
though they were far beyond any of
my work he had ever seen.
On our way back to our rooms
neither he nor I said anything about
the strange occurrence, but when we
reached them he sat down before me.
lit a pipe and said:
“While you were ill in Florence and
out of your head you undoubtedly
painted those pictures, not knowing
what you were doing; consequently
you retained no remembrance of
them.”
“But I wasn't out of my head when
I was wrapped in the views given in
the pictures. Besides, how could I
have done the work without the
Miceles knowing it? And, knowing it.
they would have called my attention
to it.”
My friend pondered awhile, blowing
at the same time clouds of smoke, and
finally said;
“Whntever you have been physically,
I’m sure you are all right now. But
If you wish an explanation go back
to Florence, see the people you board
ed with and get it from them.”
Acting ou his advice. I started that
evening. On the way I had time to
think over the matter of my investiga
tion and decided to appronch the
Miceles without being known to them.
On arrival I asked about them and
learned that they had been left a
legacy of some fifty thousand francs.
This at once assured me that they had
received the amount paid for my pic
tures. One morning I rang their bell.
Blanca answered the summons and,
seeing me at the door, turned pale.
Going in, I asked her to call her
mother and told both of my experience
in Paris. At first they assumed to be
as much surprised as I; but, seeing that
I was not to be deceived, Senora Mi
cele finally began a confession which
the senorina finished.
“We did not suppose that you would
ever happen to see your pictures,” said
the former.
“Well, tell me where they came
from,” I asked her. She looked at her
daughter.
"I can only tell you,” said Blanca-,
“that I painted them while you were
sitting out In your chair on the bal
cony—how I know not All I do know
is that It seemed to me that It was
your brain working with my hand.”
I questioned her and cross questioned
her, eliciting nothing further except
that she had discovered some time be
fore meeting me that she possessed
some strange power of the order com
monly called clairvoyant My own In
terpretation of the Incident was that,
not being able to do good work herself,
she had exercised this power over me
to utilize my ability. Since she had
painted the pictures herself the only
fraud Involved was her placing my
name on them. She did this not re
alizing the pecuniary value of the pic-,
tures themselves and supposed she
could not sell them without a name
to them. She and her mother were
tempted chiefly because they were
financially In desperate straits. They
had sold the paintings through a
friend who appreciated their worth
and paid them all they brought ex
cept a bare commission. I told them
that they were welcome to all they
had received for the paintings. The
sole Interest I took in the matter was
a curiosity to know how the work had
been executed.
Every year brings to light new evi
dence to show that there are subtle
forces acting psychically within us
that we do not understand. I believe
that Just ns surely as the Invention of
wireless telegraphy will come an ex
planation of how Blanca Mlcele united
my artistic ability with her own per
sonality and of the union made a far
better work of art than I could have
produced by myself. It is possible that
the advantage came merely through a
certain suppleness In her wrist or In
some other mechanical feature that
was superior to mine, thus enabling
me to attain an Ideal that I had never
been able to attain before with my less
perfect member. But ttls is a mere
hypothetical exposition of my own.
unsupported by proof.
i| The Japanese ||
Umbrella
•» •»
', | A Chinese Episode and Its !!
! I Horrible Effect ! 1
.. _ •;
•: By CLARISSA MACKIE i!
.. —
i • • •
i • Copyright. 1911, by American Press < •
' * Association. ' ‘
f I t 1 t 1 I t t t I I 1 I t 1 t 1 1 I t t 1 1 (if
A whole year passed after Nelson’s
return from Asia before he found him
self again treading an oriental street
and rubbing elbows with slant eyed,
blue bloused Chinese. Ills present po
sition In the custom house made It
necessary that ho should visit a well
known silk Importer, whoso place of
business lay In the heart of San Fran
cisco's reconstructed Chinatown.
Jay Nelson had been glad enough to
eliminate all memory ef his last year
In China. There had been one horri
ble Incident from which he had fled,
but whose shadow had lurked in the
background of bis daily life since bis
return to America. In broad daylight
he had laughed at the fears that pur
sued his first sleepless, fear haunted
nights. After awhile the fear gave
place to a sense of security fostered
by the practical workaday happenings
of his busy life.
Today, however, as he passed along
Dupont street and turned Into a nar
rower thoroughfare there burst upon
him the significant fact that this part
of a great city was but n fragment of
the old eastern world after all.
He had to pause once or twice and
Inquire Ills way, for the house of the
Importer was set In the heart of the
web of streets and alleys. Then when
his goal lay but n few yards ahead
there sprang Into sudden view, bob
bing along In the crowd before him, u
certain green and gold paper parasol,
the meaning of which was all too
clear to Jay Nelson. He had a vague
realization that this emblem of an old
horror might hnve been evolved from
his own morbid fancy.
He pressed forward, eager to stretch
forth his hand and prove that the
Japanese umbrella was a thing of air,
was an optical Illusion. But always It
danced before him like a wlll-o’-the
wisp, now showing a glint of gold and
green and then melting Into n dozen
Illusive tints.
Where It went there he too must
follow until be could prove by actual
contact with Us surface that It was a
creation of his fancy and not the
dreaded emblem of the White Brother
hood.
It drew him on down into the very
bowels of the earth.
The paper umbrella collapsed and
was cast aside, while the hearer turn
ed to confront Nelson. Then the lat
ter awoke from his trance-llke state
and stared first at the strange face
that confronted him, then about the
small dungeon-like room, empty of fur
niture and reeking with foul odors
and lighted by a single swinging oil
lamp. Nelson's gaze came back to the
face of the Chinese, and he shivered
slightly, for the face was that of a
member of the dreaded order—the sign
was written on the man's brow.
Instantly Nelson whipped off his
coat, holding It before him as a shield
and backed to the stairway leading
upward.
“Hold a moment," snid the Chinese
In the Cantonese dialect; “I am not
alone."
“‘Wlio else?” demanded Nelson
sharply In the same tongue.
“The brotherhood—at each stall
head they await your coming If you
contemplate flight,” returned the Chi
nese Imperturbably.
“What do you want with me?”
“Command of the big brother thai
you be brought before him for trial.”
“He came on from Hongkong tc
seek me?”
The Chinese cackled shrilly. Thei
he spat contemptuously. “The broth
erhood is everywhere. Captain Leesoi
—wherever there nre offenders then
also will be found a tribunal of the
brotherhood.”
“Why do you call me by Captaii
Leeson’s name?” questioned Nelsoi
warily.
"Because you are he.”
“Suppose I am not?”
“You are!” asserted the man rough
ly. “The brotherhood does not maki
mistakes.”
“You blunder this time. I am Nel
son.”
The other laughed derisively. "
was told you Would claim that name
Nelson died that night.”
“Ah,” cried Nelson suddenly, “yoi
are the big brother! This Is the trl
buna). You are alone; you thought t<
fool me; see you later, Tal Laao!” Hi
started to leap up the stairs and thei
stopped short.
Tal Laao made no move to arrest hi
flight. He merely folded his long clav
tipped finger* Into either capaclou
ileeve and smiled widely.
It was this smile that halted Nelson’
departure, the smile and a certain hiss
lng whisper that sang down the stall
way and bore warning on its breath.
Again he turned to the Chinese
"Have it over with—this court o
yours! Be quick, for I have buslnes
to attend to—matters of Importance.”
“Very good, Captain Leeson.” con
mented the man called Tal Laao. "Fol
low me.”
He led the way to a shadowy eorne
and pushed open a door into anothe
dimly lighted room. At a long tab!
sat seven men. three on either sid
and one at the end. At the farthe
end of the tnblo there stood a wid
armed empty chair. Except for a lot
.z&\
IMS# iatflp Above the table the room
was doVoid of other furnishing.
“Captain Leeson,” he announced in
a low voice, “on trial for betraying se
crets of the White Brothers.”
“Captain Leeson died, as you all
know,” said Nelson sternly. "I saw
him die, killed by your orders, lie
died in the street of”— f
“Silence!” menaced the leader. “He
claims to be Nelson, the one who died
that night.”
f The seven nodded In unison, but did
not remove their gnze from Nelson’s
angry face.
He kept silence now, briefly review
ing the strange events that had snatch
ed him from the busy streets of the
city into as dismal a den of murderers
as one might hope to find along the
wnter front of any Chinese city.
Before his eyes there flashed a pic
ture of his last year in China. Then j
he had been{in the diplomatic service
of his country. Leeson, his friend, an
Englishman In the British employ at
Hongkong—Inspector of health or some
thing of that sort—had interested Nel- !
son In his establishment of a leper col
ony down In Annm.
it was Leeson’s ambition to clean
out the le|>ers hidden in the city, to
root them out from their places of con
cealment nml transport them to the
colony where preparations had been
made for their segregation, where
their cases should be studied and
modern methods be employed.
It happened that the afflicted ones
looked on tho idea of banishment with
distaste. They cared little to be herd
ed together in a foreign province far
from friends and familiar scenes.
They cared nothing whatever for the
benefits that might accrue to posterity
through their segregation.
Leeson’s efforts met with little suc
cess, and he brought the law to his
aid. Thus he gained permission to
capture the afflicted ones, and so his
colony prospered for awhile. Then
there was formed against him the so
ciety of the White Brothers, created to
protect the lepers scattered throughout
tho city from Leeson’s agents. Each
one bore some mark of the disease,
and they had some other emblem by
which they might be known to each
other if the mark of the disease was
not plnin enough. And this emblem
was the green and gold paper umbrel
la, with its snaky twisting golden
dragon coiling in and out of the green
painted bamboo shoots.
Nelson remembered the first time he
had seen them—that night of Leeson's
carefully planned expedition into a
suspected quarter. It was at night,
and red lanterns had lighted the street
down its crooked length. Suddenly
there had burst upon them and the
three agents who accompanied Leeson
a hideous babel of cracked voices; a
horrible spectacle of ghastly fnces; a j
leprous mob that leered and Jeered at
them; that drove them point by point
toward the end of the street of lepers;
a yelling crowd that received the bul
lets from their revolvers and died
noisily; a filthy crew that tried to
touch them, that longed to render
them as loathsome as itself.
Leeson had been killed, and Nelson
tried to forget the sight as the rest of
them got away. The next day he led
a party back to the street, but it was
deserted. Even poor Leeson’s body
had disappeared. After this outbreak
the matter went under the supervi
sion of a large medical corps, and the
colony at Anam was augmented by
several hundred cases. Nelson resign
ed from the service and went home,
sickened of the whole dubious web of
oriental life, thankful that he had es
caped contact—that he was clean.
Now they had found him out they
would tnke their revenge for his be
trayal of their outbreak. It pleased
them to call him by Leeson’s name.
As Leeson he would probably die in
this hole in the ground under San
1?rnnniD/*n
Nelson determined to force some Im
mediate action from the men who had
sprung up In this faraway city to call
him to nceount for his setting the
hounds of law upon their trail. All his
hideous dreams of the past year seemed
to have been realized In the strange
events of this day that would un
doubtedly be bis last on earth.
It had been a strange day, and even
now, face to face with death—for the
presence of these White Brothers
1 meant nothing less—he seemed to be
moving In n dream more frightful than
anything his sleeping mind had con
ceived.
"Fire ahead,” he said recklessly;
| “I’m not afraid of you. Come on,
1 every devil's Imp of you!” He flashed
out the revolver he always carried Just
as they arose In a body and came at
him, a ghastly company with stretch
ing, clawing Angers and fiendish eyes.
Then Jay Nelson awoke. He sat up
In bed. his brow dripping sweat and
his heart pounding with excitement,
for once more he had dreamed of the
Japanese umbrella and the horrible
band whose emblem It was. This was
the worst dream of all, and he mur
mured devout thanks that It had been
a dream.
Sitting there with the morning sun
shine streaming Into the room and a
fresh breeze from the bay ruffling his
hair. Nelson saw the early newspaper
slid under his door. Eager to be In
torn h with the commonplaces of every
day life, he fetched It and read the
headlines. After awhile. In a corner
of the sheet, he read that the Hong
kong authorities were satisfied that
they had rid that city of Its lepers.
The White Brotherhood had been
broken up, and most of its members
were in Anam colony. The leader, Tai
Lnao, was dead. Captain Leeson’s
death had been avenged.
Jay Nelson went forth that morning
a care free man to interview the silk
importer in Chinatown. At last he was
; emancipated from fear. He would
' dream no more.