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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (June 25, 1925)
T5he ITtOJV HOUSE NOVELIZED BY EDWIN C. HILL I FROM WILLIAM FOX’S GREAT PICTURE ROMANCE OF THE EAST AND THE WEST BY CHARLES KENYON AND JOHN RUSSELL • “Now, now, little feller, you’re all safe. We’ll take care of you. Don't talk about it. There's not much you can tell me.” His first glance around tl»3 clearing had revealed tc Spence the while story of the tragedy, dowm to the last detail—-man and boy surprised at their camp fire, the murder of the father, the boys’ escape (how ho could not guess), tlie looting of the camp, the disppearancc, of the raiders. One of the men spoke: “By G—! Spence, did ye ever see the beat of it -that kid buryin’ his dad nml givin’ him the best funeral he could/ ' Spence shut him up with a .^gesture- He motioned to his tnen to gather up the few odds and ends, the books and a few tools. » “you scout, ahead on the back 'trail,° lie ordered, and one of rthe bearded men slipped into the •forest. ‘ * N ow, son—Davy ’s your name, ain’t it!—we’ll be making tracks toward Fort Laramie. This ain't a healthy country right now. This is Cheyenne work. I know their signs. We’ll talk about that later. Questions I want to ask. D’ye feel able to travel?” Davy nodded. His heart was still too heavy for talk. Later be was to understand the miracle of his reacuc. Spence had been scouting eastward with a small party, sent by the trader at Fort Laramie to j?et reliable news of the alarming reports. They had been camp ing near Crow Creek when the sound of riile tiring, barely Mile, at a great distance, reached them. Spenee’s trained ear made out in the firing the heavy report of *» Sharpe's and to him every rifle spoke with an individual voice. Indians did not carry Sharpe’s rifles as a general thing, so he reasoned that a white man or white men had been jumped by hostiles. Leaving two men in charge of the camp, he hurried southward with the others, traveling fast, until he picked up the trail of a small party of Indians that had veered eastward only a little while ’ “ had fol lowed clearing where the Brandens had camp Brandons had camped. From the camp on Crow Creek, where Spence made the boy take rest and strong coffee, they made their way westward, taking the Laramie Trail. Davy rode behind Spence or one of the others. They made the set tlement, twenty-five miles, late that evening, with Davy ex hausted ami e a r r ic d in Spence’s arms. He was asleep when they put him to bed in a room back of the old trading store, and it was late the follow ing morning whfc-a he opened his eyes. Miserable as he was, he felt much better after ho had doused his face in the water bucket, and still better when he had made a hearty breakfast upon venison and bannock, with coffee to wash it down. In every boy there is astonish ing resiliency. Davy was con scious of interest in bis new sur roundings, in the rude trading post that had been built as far back as 1821 by the French trad- ! er, Jacques La Itamie, in the fort, with its quadrangle of huge logs, its watchtowers at the four corners, and in tho humans that moved about the enclosure ox* outside the stockade among the tepees, shacks and dugouts. Friendly Shonhoni, haters of the Cheyennes, were in to trade their pelts, their tanned buck skins, for powder and ball, and the food of the white man; tall, splendid-looking red men carry ing themselves haughtily. Hap py-faced Frenchmen from the north, fur trappers mostly, with an interpreter or two of mixed blood; teamsters from the Ore gon country, strapping fellows, usually well-ltquored with the traders' tanglefoot whiskey at two bits the drink; and lean, hawk-faced scouts, free lances of • thousand trails of mountain ml plain, the eyes of the scat tered posts of the fur company. They quickened Davy’s interest, helping him to put aside his misery. Silent Spence came to him later in the day. lie found a seat upon the bench outside the trading store and pulled at his pipe a long time without say ing a word. Then: “I’ve been thin kin’ over your situation, little feller,’’ he said. “You’ve been kind of a puzzle, what to do with, but kind o’ works out this way. I’m driftin on west, to Californy —'got some business out there— and I aim to take you to Sacra mento. I know just the place for you. A boy hadn’t oughtcr grow up without any schoolin’ and you can git it there. I’ve figge/ed it all out, Davy, and it’s the best bet as the cards lay. This country’s no place for a boy to be knockin’ around in, ’specially when there’s Injun trouble. So tomorrow we’ll hit the trail.’’ Davy s story had become known to everybody in the trading host. 1Jis misfortunes, and most of all, his manliness amkhis bright face, had won the hearts of the roughest of the folk collected at the post. They felt that something should be done, hut nobody did anything until Mrs. Steele, the trader’s wife, took affairs into her capa ble hands. “laws amighty!” she said that night to her speuse. “You men make me sick. You nil stand around and talk, talk, talk! Why don’t you do some thin' fer that fatherless boyV” “What kin a feller dot” asked Bill Steele, as one who raves instruction from on high. “Well if I must tell you, yon big lummox,” said the wife of his bosom, “you can pick up that hat of yours lay in’ there and drag your lazy hulk out to every man jack in -the post. Tell ’em to spill all they can afford into the hat, and when they’ve done that to reach for more. It’d be a eryin’ shame to start that child out without means 1” * Keekened Spence was see in’ after the boy,” said Bill. “You reckeued!” said Mrs. Steele, scornfully. "Show me your tracks, Bill Steele!” Bill got, willingly enough, for he was a goodhearted fellow, and the result of his circuit of the post was amazing. Every body had contributed, the French trappers, the swearing I mule-whackers, the scouts and, to Steele’s surprise, even the Indians. Bill turned over coin nuggets and gold dust that Spence roughly figured out to the value of $1,000, a lot of mon ey in those days. Mrs. Steele completely reclothed Davy, then entrusted to Spence a small pack stuffed with extra cloth ing, articles from the shelves of Bill’s store, a pair of boots, shirts, hankerohiefs, a hat and and beaded buckskin shirt, breeches and moccasins, a pres ent from the squaws in the Shoshoni camp near the fort. They started next morning, Spence, Davy and an old scout named Iloru that everybody 1 called "Powder,” Ho had come into the country in ’22, with General Ashley and Bridger and the Kocky Mountain Fur Company's outfit, and there he had taken root. To Davy the old man took a vast liking, for the boy’s smile seemed to open all hearts. It was old Powder who gradually withdrew Davy’s mind from mournful thoughts He told him a hundred tales of the old days, of the trip he had made with Bridger to the Great Salt Lake, the first white men, probably, to gaze upon that strange, inland sea, though there was a legend of a visit made by the Spanish friar, Father Escal ante, as far back as 1776; of the many Indian fights he had taken part In, and of the struggles and battles between the rival fur com panies. “But time* is changin’ 1” said th« old man. "Fur critters are skcerce, compared to what they or.ee was. Country’s gittin’ crowded like. Don’t dook like there's much new country left.” For three months they rode the trail, following tho well-beat en road to the Green River, then southeast through Nevada and the foothills of the Sierras and over the mountains past Donner Lake along an old emigrant trail. At Emigrant Gap they descend ed the Sierra Nevadas at the headwaters of the American river, and moved down into the valley of the Sacramento. They eaine to the town late in September. Spence took Davy to the home of Henry Brewster, a friend of many years. To the Brcwstrs be told Davy’s story and asked them if they would give Davy a home and see to his schooling. Mrs. Brewster took Davy straight to her motherly heart. “He shall he our own hoy,” ^she said. If little Henry had lived he’d be this laddie’s age. It will cheer up the house to have him about.” “I can he a lot of help, ma’am,’ said David, sturdily. “I used to sort o’ keep house for daddy.” “Bless your heart,” said good Mrs. Brewster- “Housekeepin’s no work for a man-child. There will he plenty of chores for a lively hoy, goodness knows, but we’ll see about that.” “The boy pays his Avay,” said Spence. He handed them the buckskin hag, heavy with gold. CHAPTER VII— A WHITE EAGLE WITH A RED HEART In Sacramento, in the home of ths Brewsters, Davy Brandon came happily to young manhood. He had good schooling from a Bostonian, a stern, hard-handed ped'agougue, yet Avith a rare fac ulty of interesting his pupils. No fonder of books than any other young human animal, Davy studied faithfully, nevertheless, because he had given his promise to Spenee for whom he had an affection that touched idolatry. Spence had been kind to his dad dy. Spenee had brought him to safety and a home. So Davy waited and Avorked, yearning for the time Avlien ho could join his hero in that rugged company of eagle men that ranged the mountains and the plains. During these years, in Avhieh he shot up like a young pine, he helped Ilenry Brewster keep the store which did a brisk trade Avith goldseekers and settlers heading west, and Avith the trav elers avIio had made their pile or AA’ho had been conquered by the country and Avcrc turning back to the easier ways of the settled East. To Ma BrcAVstcr Davy had become as dear as if he had been her oAvn flesh and blood. He found a thousand little Avays of easing her burdens. She blessed the day that Silent Spenee brought the orphaned boy to her home. “He’s just the best boy that over was,” Ma Brewster often said to husband or neighbors “ 'Course, he’s got plenty of spirit and devilment in him. He won’t let anybody run over him. not a mite. But lie’s sweet and fine, is Davy, with a heart like gold.” In later years this part of his life was always dim and vague to Davy, perhaps because it had been so secure, peaceful and hap py. It was ended when he was nearing his twenty-second year, ended with sadness. Ma Brew ster, whosse health had been fail ing for years, succumbed to an illness that even her gallant spir it could not conquer. She passed her last hour on earth with her hand in Davy’s. A few weeks alter her death IIot.ry Brewster announced his intention of re turning to Indiana. “Now that Ma has gone, I just don t care to hang on here any longer,” he said, as they sat to gether in the home which seemed so empty and lonely. “1 have done pretty well, Davy. I’ve nmde enough to keep me com fortable the rest of my life. Bet ter come with me. I’ll buy a good farm back in Dearborn county, on the Ohio, and we’ll run it togetheer. When I’m gone it'll all be yours.” ‘‘Uncle Hank,” said Davy, ‘‘you have been good to me—a real father—and I know what I owe to you. But my heart is here in the west. There are things I feel I must do. You know how my daddy died— murdered by a white man, butchered with an ax while he was held down. There’s never a day passed, Uncle Hank, that I have not said to myself, I’ve got to find that man and pay him out if I ever run acroas him —and I'll follow his trail fox years if I ever strike it—I’ll kill him with my bare hands. “Then there’s the railroad that people are talking go much about. Some think it will never be built. But it will be, Uncle Hank, daddy believed in it with all his heart. That’s what brough him West, hope of find ing a possible line for the road / through the foothills and the * mountains. He used to talk to me for hours about the road and what it would do for the coun try. He always said he wanted me to have some part in it. May be you think I'm foolish, but I believe my daddy is watching me,, hoping I will find a way to help the road, to lend a hand in building it. “I hate to part from you, Un cle Hank, but that’s the way I feel about it. I wanted you to understand, but I’ll go back East with you if you say you need me.” Henry Brewster sat pulling his pipe, the same old, strong-smell ing pipe that poor Ma Brewster used to rail against so often. For several minutes be held his peace staring into the leaping flame of the fireplace. “I reckon,” he said slowly, “you’re on the right trail Davy. I don’t hold much by vengeance, an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. But I can under stand your feelings. If I was young 1 guess I’d feel about the same. I guess I’d want to keep goin’ until I’d got my hands around the neck of that murder in’ devil. A white renegade is a thousand times worse’n the In jiuas he excites to wickedness. IIow do you calculate to come up with him?” I don t know yet,” said Davy. ‘‘But I know the country he ranged in with his Cheyennes, tlit; bad lands east of Laramie. That was his hangout, in the lulls. 'I he last I heard of Spence ho was back at Fort Laramie. I thought if you didn’t need me, I i mignrtravel east with you to the fort* find Spence and maybe pick up news.” “That’s the best plan,” said Brewster.” You’re a grown man, Davy. Not many around here can best you with rifle, revolver or fists, but you’ll need Spence’s long head. You’re free to go. I’d like to have you, boy, but I \von’t stand in your way.” Brewster had a buyer for the stbre, one anxious enough for the trade to pay a fair price, so this matter was quickly disposed of. When everything had been sold, excepting the few household ar ticles that he wanted to take back East, they completed their plans for the journey. Brewster swrprised jmd delighted t)avy i one morning by presenting him (TO BE CONTINUED) “The Man Who Died Twice” By Edwin Arlington Robinson (The Macmillan Company, $1.25) There Is no keener Joy possible to a reader than that of discover ing'beauty in the pages of a book. Any book worth reading at all, may have humor, Irony, keen characterization, absorbing plot, and all these are causes for rejoicing. But when you come to the phrase or passage that makes your heart give a sudden Jump, that perhaps brings a tear of pure emotion to your eye, and seems to go deep within you and awaken echoes of “things half felt,” then you have been in the presence of beauty, in sofar as you possess the power to apprehend that rare attribute. There is no poet living today, with perhaps the exception of John Masefield, whom I find so emo tionally thrilling and so artistically satisfying as Edwin Arlington Robinson. And "The Man Who Died Twice,” the Pulitzer prize winning poem, of 1924, seems to me the finest of any of his poems. Perhaps that is because I have Just finished reading it and Its austere forco is a very present thing. It tells the story of Fernando Nash, a genius who squandered his birthright in vileness. “There was in the man, With all his frailties and extrava gances, The cast of an inviolable distinc tion That was to break and vanish only in fire When other fires that had so long consumed him Could find no more to burn; and there was in him A giant's privacy of lone com munion With older giants who had made a music Wherof the world was not impos sibly Not the last note; and there was in him always. Unqualified by guile and unsubdued By failure and remorse, or by re demption, The grim nostalgia passion of the great For glory all but theirs." But It is unfair to the poem, to snatch passages here and there. ’ You must read it all to get Its sweep and dignity. Then you will know what I mean by dlaewoyrlng “beauty” In the pages of a book. After 22 Years Of Effort, Church Union In Canada Has Been Achieved From the New York Time3. After twenty-two years of negotiation, church union in Canada becomes an accomplished fact. The Presbyterian, Metho dist and Congregational churches of the Dominion cease to func tion as distinct denominations, and in accordance with the votes of their governing assemblies, and with the sanction of the Canadian parliament, merge their forces and their properties under the name of the United Church of Canada. As the three denominations represent a total of some 2,500,000 persons, or 30 per cent, of the Canadian population, the United Church becomes at once the largest Protestant body in the Dominion. The basis of union was really settled, except for minor modi fications, in 1911, when it was almost unanimously approved by the Methodists and the Congregationalists. Two years ago it passed the Presbyterian General Assembly with a vote of 426 for union and 129 against. Broadly speaking, the lengthy and detailed document which the negotiating committees compiled aimed to preserve in the United Church what Avas most distinctive and valuable in the three uniting denominations. Since 1923 this “basis of union" has come up for debate and ratification in seven of the-Provincial Legislatures and in the Parliament at OttaAva. In bringing together such diverse elements the United Church represents no small achievement. Naturally, this radical step ran counter to extreme conservative opinion in the throe bodies con cerned. But the chief barriers to amalgamation proved to be sentimental rather than theological. Loyalties to honored names, honored forms, honored traditions, loomed large in the debates. Presbyterians recalled their covenanting past; Methodists looked back to their circuit-riding forebears, and Congregationalists thought with affection of those early individualistic souls and grbups who had kept the faith. In the Presbyterian church, the congregations of which voted 1,673 for union and 657 against, a split took place. The anti-unionists have decided to remain out side the new church and have formed themselves into a “Presby terian Association." The United Church of Canada typifies the value of co-operation and the futility of perpetuating slight denominational differ ences in home and foreign mission fields. Church leaders in Canada speak continually of the union as the “great adventure" and enter upon it as pioneersr The successful culmination of the long.years if negotiation in the Dominion for church union will doubtless give fresh stimulus to similar movements now on foot in Scotland and Australia, as Avell as here in the United States. TODAY BY ARTHUR BRISBANE. Sunday wag the 148th anniversary of the adoption by congress of Betsy Ross' flag, the Stars and Stripes. No one can deny that the flag has had 148 years of glory and decency. It’s a fine thing to go through 148 yoars never asking for anything that doesn't belong to you, and when forced to tight, always winning. If advice could save, we should all be shved. President Lowell of Har vard jaays the world needs foresight and* tells seniors “to search for what is real truth." “What is truth?” said Jesting Pilate, and would not wait for an answer^’ How shall a Harvard senior, gazing Into the big world, like a chick fresh from its shell and still Inside the Incubator, know what the truth is? Dr. Fosdick, another clergyman, says “the lawlessness of the Ameri can people is appalling.” Yet things have been worse. We have jA\irders, but fewer than one for erory 100,900 people. They had one In Adam and Eve's family, when there were only four human beings' altogether. Abel cut down the popu lation bV 25 per cent. The Rev. Dr. Fosdick complains of our Jazz in music, free verse In po etry, and in morals do as you please. But what’s all that compared to Sodom and Gomorrah. We are doing well, compared with the amclents. Peter Dutka, ambitions Czecho slovakian came here at 30 years of age,.worked In coal mines, saved money and learned English. He al ready spoke five languages. He went to Pennsylvania state college, studied until 4 o’clock In the morning, cut his sle^p to three or four hours, and he gets his degree today. Those that give It to him will see a determined emaciated man, his weight cut down 26 pounds for lack of sleep. He will be praised, and deserves it. But, he could have done as well without that degree, getting knowl edge more slowly. But never In his life will he be able to make up that loss of sleep. Remember, young gentlemen, money gone, you can get It back. But ner vous energy gone, through lack of sleep, you will never recover. Gertrude Ederle, a young American woman planning to swim the Eng lish channel, yesterday swam from New York City to Sandy Hook, 18 miles, in less than eight hours. She fought the tide during the last hour of her swim, and finished, apparently not fatigued. She goes to England Wednesday, and will train for the channel swim with Jabez Wolf, fa mous British veteran, who several times has tried and failed to make the great swim. Germany Is agitated. The great Stinnes house, its heirs quarreling among themselves, appears close to bankruptcy. Other concerns totter. The thorough Germans will make an Intensive census and see Just how they stand In one way they stand well. Butch ery of the mark has wiped out their Internal debt. The Germans, as a, na tion, owe nothing, except what they owe the Allies. Payments to the Allies amounting to only 160 odd million dollars a year at first, less than $3 per German per year, will not strain tho resources of such a country. An Intensive census of England Insulting. From the Chicago News. ”1 am never going to Smith’s house again,” declared Jones. "Why notf” asked his wife. "Last night they demonstrated a machine for telling how much people are lying.” "Well—” "And Just before they tried’ It on me they poured a quart of oil on the wheels.” A cow owned by Ben Sherman, a farmer, living near Worthington, la.. Is wearing an Iron leg as the result of having broken one of her own. As she la a valuable animal, her leg was amputated by Dr. Walden, veterinar ian. It was replaced by the artificial one which Mr. Crane, the blacksmith, conotgv-*-* CHANCE ACQUAINTANCES. John Burroughs. Nearly every season I make the acquaintance of one or more new flowers. It takes years to exhaust tho botanical treasures of any one considerable neighborhood, unless one makes a dead set at it, like an herbalist. One like.s to have his floral acquaintances come to him easily and naturally, I ke his other friends. Some pleas ant occasion should bring you to gether. You meet in a walk, or touch elbows on a picnic under a tree, or get acquainted on a fishing or camping out expedi tion. What comes to you In the way of birds or flowers, while wooing only the large spirit of open-air nature, seems like spe cial good fortune. At any rate, one does not like to bolt his bot any, but rather to prolong the course. anil France might show conditions more alarming than In Germany. Luckily for the British when war began, the . other oountries of the world owed British Investors $35,000, 000,000. English capitalists held for eign securities for that amount. Dur ing the war that was cut down by half at least. The British government is rich, it has great resources and kr.jws ho-.v to lay and collect taxes. The British people ^tre harrassed with taxation, and feel poor. In France, it is the other way around. The French government is Poor, finds it t'ifficult to collect taxes. The French people on the other hand, their exports far in excess of their imports, are, as individuals, more prosperous than the British people. We are the fortunate ones, here in America, both government and peo ple rich. Let's be grateful. President on Tolerance. From the Kansas City Star. Read in the light of recent develop ments in the United States, the president’s address at the Norse American Centennial yesterday was an implied plea against the spread of intolerance that has been menacing the unity of American life. This, we take, it, was the meaning his em phasis on the way in which the na tional spirit had come from a diver sity of racial elements. This spirit has developed without compulsion, without persecution. It has developed because American ideals appealed to the best in human nature of whatever race. There has "been a tendency of late to get away n-om this free develop ment. Earnest persons, believing strongly in their own ideas, have been trying by law to run everybody in their mold. The country lias re cently gone through a political cam paign in which a group tried to cre ute x religious issue. Just now atten tion is centered on a state where the legislature has attempted to inter feie with the details of the teaching of scientific truths and has sit up its own interpretations. It is not in this way that the American republic has grown. Its founders were broadly tolerant men. They laid down fundamental princi ples of tolerance in the constitution. These principles were developed un der the leadership of Thomas Jef ferson into a body of political doc trines which guided the course of the new nation. tolerance is In the background of a century and a half of American history. It was to this great historical experience that President Coolidge so finely appealed. Explained. From the Freeman's Journal. Judge—How is it you haven’t a law yer to defend you? Prisoner—As soon as they found out that 1 hadn't stolen the money they would not have anything to do with the case. American films have popularized the American bungalow, with its built-in furniture and many modern living con veniences, to the people of Brazil. For ty-five per cent, of the new dwellings going up in Sao Paulo, Brazil, at the present time, are copied from the Cal ifornia product. The only difficulty en countered Is the general absence of a servants room; all middle class Bra silians have servant* duo to the cheap ness of labor.