Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (July 17, 1924)
wmmncauiiiiiiimninimfitiicsmiimniiatfflmiimaiimiMiinnitnnvji V5he I ■ RAGGED EDGE by | Harold MacGrath B iimiinmniniiiiiimciiiiiimimniimiiimiaiHHmmiumimiminiiimiiiiiS “Let him have Itt I can’t stand at the elbow of any of the guest* and regulate his or her action*. So long as a man be haves himself, I can’t refuso him liquor. But I’ll call a doctor, since you order it. You’ll be wasting his time- It is a plain case of alcoholic stupor. I’ve (cea many cases like it.” He summoned another “boy’* Ind rumbled some Cantonese, immediately the “boy” went brth with his paper lantern, re peating a cry as he ran—a warn ing to clear his way. “Have the aromatic spirits of ammonia sent to Mr. Taber’s room at once,” Ruth ordered. “I will administer it.” “You, Miss Enschede T”— frankly astonished that one atranger should succour to an other. “There is nobody else. Some one ought to be with him until the doctor arrives. lie may die.” The manager made a negative alga. “Your worry is needless.” “It wasn't the fumes of whisky that toppled him out of his ahair. It was his heart. I once aaw a man die after collapsing that way.” You once saw a man die that way!” the manager echoed, his reeent puzzlement returning full tide. Hartford, Connecticut; she bad registered that address; but there was something so mystify- I ln*ly Oriental about her that the address only thickened the haze behind which she moved. “Where r “That can wait,” she answer ad. “Please hurry the am monia;” and Ruth turned away abruptly. Above she found the two Chinaman squatted at the side of the door. They rose as she ap proached. She hastened past, inmediately took the pillows under the head of the man nrho had two names, released the collar and*tie, and arranged the arms alongside the body. His heart was beating, hut faintly and slowly, with ominous inter missions. All alone; and nobody cared whether he lived or died. Sho was now permitted freely to study the face. The compari aons upon which she could draw urure few and oonfusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose mrtifltlo conceptions of heroes in fiction. The young male, as she tad actually seen him, had been «f the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine. The [ shape of the head, the height and breadth of the brow, the angle cf the nose, the out of the chin and jaws, all were fine, of a type •he had never before looked up on closely. one saw now that it was not a dlaBapated face; it was as smooth and unlined as polished marble, which at present it resembled. Still, something had marked the face, something hsd left an in delible touch. Perhaps the sunk en cheeks and the protruding cheekbones gave her this im Srendon. What reassured her, owever, more than anything •im^ was the shape of the mouth : at was warmly turned. The con firmed drunkard’s mouth at kmgth seta itself peculiarly; it bemiom the mark by which thoughtful men know him. It was not ha evidence here, not a dgn o! it. A drunken idea, Ah Cum had walled it And yet it was basical ly u fine action. To buy the free dom of a poor little Chinese stare-girl! For what was the sing-song girl but a slave, the doable slave of custom and of meal Ruth wanted to know kemdy what had impelled the lideg. Had he been trying to stop tho grim descent, and had he dimly perceived that perhaps a fine deed would serve as the Initial barrier t A drunken idea 4—a pearl in the midst of a rub %mb heap. That terrible laughter, ir, before his senses had left Why? Here was a word that woUeyed at her from all direc tloua, numbed and bewildered hurt the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word. "Why wasn’t the world full of loro, when love made happiness! I Why did people hide their natur al kindliness as if it were some thing shameful? Why shouldn’t people say what they thought and aet as they were inclined? Why all this pother about what one’s neighbour thought, when this pother was not energized by any good will? Why was truth avoided as the plague? Why did this young man have one name on the hotfl regisler and another on his lips? Why was she bother ing about him at all? Why should there be this inexplicable compassion, when the normal sensation should have been re pellance? Sidney Carton. Was that it? Had she clothed thia unhappy young man with glam our? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her. Somewhere in the world would be his people, perhaps his mother; and it might soften the bitterness, of the return to con sciousness if he found a woman at his bedside. More than this, it would serve to mitigate her own abysmal loneliness to pool it tem porarily with his. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. A bad sign; it signified that the heart action was in a precarious state. So far he had not stirred; from his bloodless lips had come no sound. At length the manager arriv ed; and together he and Ruth succeeded in getting some of the aromatic spirits of ammonia down the patient’s throat. But nothing followed to indicate that the liquid had stimulated the heart. “You see!’’ Ruth said. The manager conceded that he saw, that his original diagnosis was at fault. Superimposed was the agitating thought of what would follow the death of this unwelcome guest: confusion- pok ing authorities, British and American red tape. It would send business elsewhere; and the hotel business in Canton was never so prosperous that one could afford to lose a single guest. Clientele was of the most transitory character. And then, there would be the question of money. Would there be enough in the young man’s envelope to pay the doctor and the hotel bill—and tn the event of his death, enough to ship the body home? So all things point ed to the happy circumstance of setting this young fool upon his feet again, of seeing him hence upon his journey. Good riddance to bad rubbish. An hour later the doctor arriv ed ; and after a thorough exami nation, he looked doubtful. “He is dying!” whispered Kuth. “Well, without immediate care he would have passed out. He’s on the ragged edge. It depends upon what he was before he be gan this racket. Drink, and no sustaining food. But while there’s life there’s hope. There isn’t a nurse this side of Hong Kong to be had. I’ve only a Chinaman who is studying under me; but he’s a good sport and will help us out during the crisis. This chap’s recovery all depends upon the care he receives." Out of nowhere Kuth heard her voice saying: “I will see to that.” “\our husband t” “No. I don’t even know his name.” The doctor sent her a sharp, quizzical glance. He could not quite make her out; a new type. “Taber,” said the manager; “Taber is the name.” For some reason she did not then understand, Ruth did u t offer the information that Taber had Another name. “This is very fine of you, Miss. . . .” “Enschede.” “Ah. Well, come back in half an hour. I’ll send or Wu Fang. He speaks English. Not a job he may care about; but he's a good sport. The hard work will be his, until we yank this young fellow back from the brink. Run along now; but return in half an hour.” The doctor was in .the middle fifties, gray and careworn, bat with alert blue eyes and a gentle mouth. He smiled at Ruth as she turned away from the bed, smiled with both his mouth and eyes; and she knew that here would be a man of heart as well as of science. She went out into the hall, where she met the Jed sons in their kimonos. “What has happened?” asked Sister Prudence. “We've heard coming and going.” “ Mr. Taber is very ill.” “Oh.” Prudence shrugged. “Well, what can you expect, guz zling poison like that? Are you returning with us to Hong-Kong in the morning?” “No. I am going to help take care of him,” said Ruth, quite ordinarily, as though taking care of unknown derelicts was an or dinary event in her life. “What?—help take care of him? Why, you can’t do that, Miss Enschede !’’ was the protest. “Why can’t I?” “You will be compromised. It isn’t as if he were stricken with typhoid or pneumonia or something like that. You will certainly be compromised.” “Compromised.” Ruth repeat ed the word, not in the effect of query, but ruminantly. Mutual concessions,” she added. “I don’t quite understand the ap plication.” Sister Prudence looked at Sis ter Angelina, who understood what was expected of her. Sister Angelina shook her head as if to say that such ignorance was be yond her. w ny, it means that people will think evilly of you." “For a bit of kindness!" Ruth was plainly bewildered. “You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth’s hands in her own. “I never saw the like of you! One has to guard one’s actions constantly in this wicked world, if one is a woman, young and pretty. A woman such as I am might help take care of Mr. Ta ber and no one comment upon it- But you couldn’t. Never in this world! Let the hotel people take care of him; it’s their af fair. They sold him the whiskey. Come along with us in the morn ing. Your father. . . . ” Prudence felt the hands stif fen oddly; and again the thought came to her that perhaps this poor child’s father had once been or perhaps still was, in the same category as this Taber. “It’s a fine idea, my child, but you mustn’t do it. Even if he were an old friend, you couldn’t afford to do it. But a total stranger, a man you never saw twenty ^four hours ago! It can’t be thought of. It isn’t your duty" “I feel bewildered,” said Ruth. “Is it wrong, then, to surrender to good impulses!" “In the present instance, yes, Can’t I make you understand! Perhaps it sounds cruel tp you; but we women often have to be cruel defensively. You ' don’t want people to snub you later. This isn ’ t your island, child; it’s the great world." “So I perceive,” said Ruth, withdrawing her hands. “He is all alone. Without care he will die." But, goodness me, the hotel will take care of him! Why not t They sold him the poison. Be sides, I have my doubts that he is so very sick. Probably he will come around to-morrow and be gin all over again. You’re alone, too, child. I’m trying to make you see the worldly point of view, which always inclines toward the evil side of things.” ‘‘I have promised. After all, why should I care what strangers think t” Ruth asked with sud den heat. ‘‘Is there no charityt Isn’t it understoodt” ‘ ‘ Of course it is 1 In the present instance I can offer it and you can’t or shouldn’t. There are unwritten laws governing human conduct. Who invented them! Nobody knows. But woe to those who disregard them! Of course, basically it is all wrong; an<j sometimes God must laugh at out ideas of rectitude. But to live at peace with your neigh bour. ..." Ruth brushed her eyes with one hand and with the other signed for the spinster to stop. ‘‘No more, please! I am bewild ered enough. I understand noth ing of what you say. I only know that it is right to do what I do.” ‘‘Well,” said Sister Prudence, ‘‘remember, I tried to save you some future hea.'taches. God bless you, anyhow!” she added, with a spontaneity which sur prised Sister Angelina into utter ing an individual gasp. ‘‘Good bye ! ’ ’ For a moment Ruth was tempt ed to fling herself against the withered bosom; but long sine® she had learned repression. She remained stonily in the middle of the hallway until the spin ster’s door shut them from view . . . for ever. CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room. She opened her suitcase —new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription : The Universal Handbook. Here in was the sum of human know ledge in essence. In the beginning it was a dic tionary. Words were given with their original meaning, without their ramifications. If you were a poet in need of shyness, you had only to turn to a certain page. Or. if you were about to embark upon a nautical career, here was all the information re quired. It also told you how to write on all occasions, how to take out a patent, how to doctor a horse, and who Achates was. You could, if you were ambitious to round out your education, memorize certain popular foreign phrases. Hut beyond amicable agree ment In which mutual conces sions are made,*’ the word “com promise” was as blank as the Canton wall at night. Ther* were words, then, that ran on indefinitely, with reversals? Here they meant one thing; there, the exact opposite. To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. Mutual concessions!—and then to turn it around so that it suggested that an act of kindness might be interpreted as moral obloquy l Walls; queer, invisible walls that receded whenever she reach ed out, hut that still remained beween her and what she sought. The wall of the sky, the wall of the horizon, the wall behind which each human being hid— the wall behind which she her self was hiding! If only her mother had lived, her darling mother! CONTINUED) Africa Haa River of Ink. William Greenleaf In the Glass Con tainer. Travelers in Northern Africa have observed a curiosity of nature—a river of ink. The water Is black, yet the streams which feed It are perfectly clear. Chemical analysis and exam ination have revealed the cause. One of the streams 1s strongly Impregnat ed with iron from the soli through which it flows. Another carries tan nin from a peat swamp. It Is the chemical combination of the iron, tannin and oxygen of the air that turns the water black. This chemi cal reaction forms the basis of the most Important class of inks known as iron-gall inks. Iron-gall ink was first made In the twelfth century, but It wae not until the fifteenth that It came Into com mon use. The writer has seen a page from a handwritten book on monkish satin. In Ink with ths date 1445, and the writing Is as clear, black and legi ble as on the day it was written. The Ink was iron-gall Ink, and It shows the permanency of this type. The most important factor In the making of thie Ink Is gall nuts, cer tain epecles of which are found In China, India Japan and even In some oak and willow trees In America. A peculiar kind of Insect, similar to our horsefly, bores into the small twigs of oak trees and lays its eggs. A lit tle lump la the result. The egg grows -with the gall and Is soon converted Into a larva. Eventually the larva be comes a fly and escapes by eating Its way out. The best nuts for ink-making are those that are picked when fully ripe, but Just before the escape of the in sect, as these contain the largest amount of tannin. As the name implies. Iron-gall Inks are based on a liquid In which an Iron salt Is combined with tannin ex tracted from gall nuts. The iron salt Is copperas and comes In the form of green crystals. These are secured In the United States. «Whlle there are other Ingredients added, these two are the most Important In the make-up of this type of Ink. This liquid la practically colorless until acted upon by the oxygen In the air; that Is, a pen dipped Into such a fluid would make no visible mark on the paper. Most people, however, like to see what they are writing as they write, and so a blue anllln color Is added. After the Ink Is exposed to the air, the iron-gall compound de velops an Intensely black and perma nent color, entirely superseding the original blue which ultimately fades away. This change in color Is what causes It to be referred to .commonly as blue-black Ink. The black remains clear and legible as long ae the paper on which It Is written lasts. Restful, Too From Wrve's Writings. Plumber A: “Where do you go fer your vacation T” Plumber B: “I take my vacation on the job, as usual." The Last Tryst. The tireless rain with chilling touch The russet hilltop presses; The strident wind so soon forgets Its blossom-time caresses. The swaying trees against the sky Have snuffed the star-shine’s glim mer And spilled their sighing shadows - till The village lamps grow dimmer. A gray ghost. steals across the land With trailing robes a-flutter, And In the Autumn's Joyful ways Denuded branches mutter. The shining season parting tryst Has kept In every byway, And none remain of all its host By wood or stream or highway. —Maude De Vena Itewtoa. la the Kansas City Star. LAW ENFORCEMENT Governor Frank J. Hanly A few fcionths ago I became governor of Indiana. All over the state I found the laws disregard ed. I found liquor sold Illegally. I found wine rooms open all night, where men, women and beardless boys congregated. I found gamb ling machines, pool-rooms, and betting on hypothetical races sverywhere. I did not stop to question whether these things are right or wrong. I found that they are against the law. And to the best I could I sought to en force tho law. No executive of ficer has any right to do aqy “thinking” as to the propriety gr wisdom of the existing laws. The Legislature of the State has al ready done that for him. It Is enough for him to know what the law Is, and that his obligation re quires him to enforce it. The people of no city have a right to say that the laws of the state shall be suspended or violated. THE UNCONSCIOUSNESS OF VIRTUE. Why callest thou me good?—Mark 10:18. This word of Jesus by no means Indicates his consciousness of sin In himself. Nowhere do we find any trace of suoh a consciousness. But it does indicate the uncon sciousness simplicity with which he wore his virtue. • His own goodness was never a cloak of smugness about him. Evil shrank naturally from hie presence, but the sinner was at ho ne with him. The only persons who felt reet leas In hi" presence were the self righteous. To them he was a continual wear iness, a tantalising reminder of thetr hyprocrlsy. If only the “good people” would learn that lesson, what a difference It would make. I can never forget the cry of a man wrestling with a terrible temp tation who said to me: “In heaven’s name, call off Mr. So-and-so; he's killing me with his self-satisfied goodness.” True virtue never parades ltMTf. Self-consoiousness Is not good for all things. No man wishes to hang out a sign: "Come and see my wife. She’s the humblest woman In the world. I’m proud of her.” Above all. If she herself Is a good woman, she would not consent to being made a gazing stock of ad vertised virtues. Virtue may be Its own reward; but not If you confer the prize on yourself. Law's Longest Delays. W. Orton Tewson, in the New York Evening Post. The law’s delays are proverbial, but It would be interesting to know which particular case holds the re cord in that respect. I saw it stated recently, for Instance, that a lawsuit about some land, which had been started In England In 1776, had Just been finally settled, and a litigant Is even now suing the United States government, according to a contem porary, over property alleged to have been alienated In the Revolutionary war. i The famous case of Eugene Aram, which later formed the subject of the novel by Lytton and the poem by Hood, is a leading one, for the mur der was committed in 1745, and Aram was put to death in 1759. In the same century a man named Horne was put to death for the mur der of his child thirty-five years earlier, and there Is also the case of Qovernor Wall, who was hanged in 1802 for a murder committed In 1782. A widely known lawyer used to re call a remarkable case of this kind. In 1863 he prosecuted a man who was charged with stealing a leaf from a parish register In 1803. llurmon on Cider. That rider Is a noble drink nobod* wjI! deny, However weak a substitute for Whitt Seal Extra Dry. And 1 would sing in cider's praise at early hours and late, If I cd?Sld find some cider in its pure and native state. When cider leaves the cider press lt'e free of mortal sins. But that’s the very point at which it* fall from grace begins; By fail from grace I do not mean Ha aptness to ferment; I mean the tricks that dealers use to tura an honest cent. They take the finest cider and they make it crystal clear, Till It looks more like hair tonic than a liquid of good cheer. Then they put in a preservative fo» fear that it won’t keep, That makes your tongue and palat* taste as though they’d gone to sleep. As if still more were needed to de stroy the cider’s charm. They fill it full of water fixm the o d well on the farm. Then its hartmlessness and mildness, they w ould suit the strictest saint. But the flavor of the apple is abom inably absent. I don’t require of cider that it be the least bit hard, But I think that these '‘improvements'* leave it rather sadly marred; And if I can onlv f'nd some that has not been led astray, I will drink it from me Jugmouth in the good old-fashioned way! —Stoddard King in the Spokane Spokesman Review. Rent Hor.ie During Vacation. T. B. in World Travelei Magazine. "An Englishman's home Is an Eng lishman’s castle.” That is an ancient saying. Nowadays a great many Englishmen's homes may be any body’s castle—for a price—to judge from the advertisements of furnished Louses to let in the London news papers. The psychology of the well to-do American snd that of an Eng lishman of the same class is en tirely different on this matter of letting homes furnished to utter strangers, provided, of course, that the stranger can pay the rent de manded. One reads advertisements of splendidly furnished homes for rent for even such a brief period as a month. I assume that these adver tisements of furnished homes to be let for various periods are not always and usually from persons who are "a bit hard up” and who need the money to eke out the expenses of their holiday. In many cases the. owners of some of "the stateiy homes of England" are really hard up, thanks to the burdensome and heart and back-breaking taxes, and are not only eager, but compelled to rent their ancient and Deautiful homes to strangers, Americans pre fercd. Many of the advertisements, how ever, Impart the idea that the owners really aren’t oompelled to let stran gers have their homes, but that they prefer to have the rent money whllo they are absent and unable to use their homes. Lovers Must Pay Bribes. From the Detroit News. Reference has been made fre quently to the fact that New York Is of no great assistance to lovers. There is no privacy. Those whose hearts are full of tenderness are driven to hide even behind posts in the subway. The parks, with their crowds and their patrolmen, offer only comparative sanctuary. But the narks are becoming worse and worse. juvenile Industry and rapacity are the cause. Some bright urchin dis covered that if he hung around the bench occupied by a couple, he would receive money to remove himselt. The news spread and now when a couple, even if middle-aged, sit down, they are surrounded by a wide-eyed mob that only money will move. Within the last week, three child ren, who ran away from home, sub sisted for three days on earnings ob tained in the manner cited. Health Fads So Numerous They Almost Border on Ridiculous From the Milwaukee Journal. If the health faddists don’t save us all it will surely not be because of any scarcity in the number of alluring “systems they have worked out or any lack of suggestions as to what we should eat, how "ye should take our “daily dozen” and what we shou. 1 do when ill. Here are a few of the things the faddists offer to make up the “perfect day": Watch the caged tiger and learn the ways of keeping fit— presumably addressed to the caged office worker. Cure your cold by standing on your head—your own blood pressure will do the trick. Want to see one of nature’s miracles? Then try the milk diet; or an all-vegetable diet; or a raw food diet, letting the sun do your cooking. Would you be a great singer? Look at a diagram of Caruso’s throat and make your own like it. Simple enough, surely. More brain power? Well, here is the man who has harnessed the forces of the mind and is ready to deliver. Surely there is no reason why anyone should be a weakling any more. But suppose a man tried ’em all. Let him start his day ftdlh his “daily dozen"; drink a glass of milk and cat two pecans for breakfast; walk 20 miles to work, getting there about noon; take his lunch of “sun cooked" apples; lie across the office desk for an hour and a half to teach his nerves composure; spend the rest of the afternoon at strenuous exercise to develop those wonderful swelling muscles that he sees in pictures; take another meal of “sun cooked" food about sundown, and then use the evening to go through his mental hurdles. His problem then would be to do it all and live within 24 hours. Possibly there are good ideas in some of these suggestions They may point out things we do which are hurtful. But they are coming so fast that we are fairly swamped. Won’t somebody please push out a life raft to save us from the faddist? What’* In a Nam*. From Judge. * A Soot whose name was McIntosh and who was proud of the fact that he was directly 'descended from the chief of the clan, was having a dispute over the fare he owed to a taxi driver. The man with the meter talked loud and harshly, and It angered the High lander. "Do you know who I am,” he de manded. proudly drawing hlmaelf up to hU full height. “I'm a McIntosh." The taxi driver snorted. "I don’t care If you're an umbrella,” he said. "I'll have my rights.*' The Liberty Bell has boon placed on wheels to facilitate Its QPtlck removal from Independence Hall la case of 0r% College Men to Drive Ice Wagon* Thi* Year Chicago—"flood morning! Is It the madame's desire to replenish the Ice chamber this lovely morning?" If you are thus approached at the back door by a silver-tongued Apollo, deftly poising a hundred pound cry stal on his broad shoulder, be not alarmed. He may be a college foot ball captain hardening up for a fall eampaisn.
