Plattsmouth weekly herald. (Plattsmouth, Nebraska) 1882-1892, August 04, 1887, Page 6, Image 6

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    I
l'LATTSMU (ITII WEEKLY JlEUALl), THURSDAY, AUGUST 1, ls7.
uateraain
y II. ItlDEIt IL(J(JAIM).
ACTlIon OF "KINO BOIjOMuN'K W1XKH," "HHP..1
"JKSH," "TUB WITfll'S HEAD," ETC.
f INTRODUCTION.
"Dkcemhek 2." J.
"I liavo just lmrif.l my lry, my poor
lmtilnoino loy, of wboui I wiu so ih-oik'i, niul
my heart broken. It i very hard, having
only 0110 non, to lows liini thus; but (Jod'H will
lo douu. Who nm I tliut I sliouM complain
The givnt wheel of fato rolls oti like a Jiik-i"-liiiut,
ami tus!)C.i us ull in turn; sumo boon,
some lato, it does not matter when; in tlio
end it crushes us all. We do not jiroNtrnto
ourselves before it like tho poor Indians; wo
fly Lither and thither wo cry for mercy;
but it is of no use, tho blind, black fate
tliundeia on, hiulin its Beason reduces us to
jKiwder.
"Poor Harry to go so soon! just when his
life was opening to bim. Ho was doing so
well at tho hospital; ho bad passod his last
examination wiLb honors, and I was proud
of them; much prouder than ho was, I think.
And then ho must needs go to that smallpox
hospital. Ho wrote to nio that ho was not
afraid of smallpox, and wanted to gain tho
experience, and now tho disease has killed
him; and I, old and gray and withered, am
left to mourn over hini, without a chick or
child to comfort mo. I might have saved
him, too I have money enough for both of
us, and much more than enough King
Solomon's mines provided mo with that; but
I said, 'No, let the boy earn his living; lot
him labor that ho may enjoy rest.' lut tho
rest has como to bim before tho labor. Oh,
niy boy, my boy 1
"I am liko tho man in tho Bible who laid up
much goods and builded barns goods for my
lioy, ami bams for him to store them in; and
now his soul has been required of him and I
am left desolate. I would that it bad been
my soul and not my boy's!
"We buried bim this afternoon under the
shadow of the gray and ancient tower of tho
church of this villaue where my bouso is. It
was a dreary December afternoon, and the
sky was heavy with snow, but not much was
falling. The eollhi was put down by tho
grave, and a few big flakes lit upon it. They
looked very whito upon tho black cloth.
There was a little hitch about getting tho
toflin down into tho grave the necessary
ropes had been forgotten; so we drew back
from it and waited in silence, watching the
big flakes fall gently ono by one liko heavenly
benedictions and melt in tears on Harry's
pall. But that was not all. A robin red
breast camo as bold as could bo anil lit upon
tho coflin and liegan to sing. And then I am
afraid that I broke down, and so did Sir Henry
Curtis, strong man though ho is; and as for
Capt. Good, I saw bim turn away too; even
in my own distress I could not help noticing
it."
Tho above, signed "Allan Quatermain," is
nn exfruct from my diary written two years
ami more ago. I copy it down here beeauso
it seems to mo that it is tho Attest beginning
to tho history that I am about to write, if it
please God to spare mo to finish it. If not,
well, it doe3 not matter.
I CHAPTER I.
. TIIE CONSUL'S YARN.
A week has passed sinco tho funeral of my
poor boy Harry, and ono evening I was iu
my room walking up and down and thinking,
when there was a ring at the outer door.
Going down the steps I opened it myself, and
in came my old friends Sir Henry Curtis and
Capt. John Good, R. N. They entered tho
vestibule and sat themselves down before tho
wide hearth, where I remember a particu
larly good fire of logs was burning.
f 77ie ConsuFs Yarn.
"It is very kind of you to com round," I
said, by way of making a remark ; "it must
havo been heavy walking in the snow."
They said nothing, but Sir Henry slowly
'filled his pipe and lit it with a burning em
ber. As ho leaned forward to do so the fire
Cot hold of a gassy bit of pine and flared up
brightly, throwing the whole sceno into
strong relief, and I thought what a splendid
looking man ho is. Calm, powerful face,
clear cut features, large gray eyes, yellow
beard and hair altogether a magnificent
specimen of the higher typo of humanity.
Nor did his form belie his face. I have never
seen wider shoulders or a deeper chest.1 In
deed, Sir Henry's girth is so great that,
though he is six foot two high, ho does not
strike one as a tall man. As I looked at him
I could not help thinking what a curious
contrast my little dried tip self presented to
his grand face and form. Imagino to your
self a small, withered, yellow faced man of
63, with thin bands, largo brown eyes, a head
f grizzled hair cut short and standing up
like a half worn scrubbing brush total
weight in my clothes, nine stone six and
you will get a very Jair idea of Allan Quater
main, commonly called Hunter Quatermain,
or by the natives "Macumazahn" anglice,
he who keeps a bright lookout at night, or,
in vulgar English, a sharp fellow who is not
to be taken in.
Then there was Good, who is not like either
of us, being short, dark, stout very stout
with twinkling black eyes, in ono of which
an eye glass is everlastingly fixed. I say stout,
but it is a mild term; I regret to state that
of lato years Good has been running to stom
ach in a most disgraceful way. Sir Henry
tells him that it comes from idleness and
overfeeding, and Good does not like it at all,
though he cannot deny it.
They sat and smoked and drank whisky
and water, and I stood by the fire also smok
ing and looking at them.
At last I spoke. "Old friends," I said, "how
long is it since we got back from Kukuana
land 3"
"Three years," said Good. "Why do you
askr
"I ask because I think that I have had a
long enough spell of civilization. I am going
back to the veldt."
Sir Henry laid his head back in his arm
chair and "laughed one of his deep laughs.
"How very odd!" be st id; "eh. Good?"'
Good beamed at me mysteriously through
his eye glass, and murmured, "Yes, odd
Ttyrodd."
Mia
"I don't quite understand," said I, looking
from ono to tho other, for I dislike mystoriea.
'Don't j on, old fellow?" said Sir Henry;
"then I will e xplain. As Good nnd I were
v.ulUing up hero wo had n talk."
'If Good wiu theio you probably did," I
put in. sarcastically, for Good is a great hand
ut talking. "And whut may it have loen
about?"
"What do you think?" asked Sir Henry.
I hi look my head. It was not likely that 1
Miould know what Good might be talking
about, ho tulks about so muny things.
"Well, it was about a little plan that I have
formed namely, that if you were agreeable
wo should pack up our traps anil go ell to
Africa on another expedition."
1 fairly jimmied at his words. "You don't
say so!" I said.
"Vcs I do, though, and so does Good; don't
you, Good
"Rather," caid that gentleman.
"Listen, old fellow," wont on Sir Henry,
with considerable unii nation of manner. "I'm
tired of it too, dead tired of doing nothing,
except pluy the squire In a country that is sick
of squires. For a year or more I have been
getting as restless as an old elephant who
scents danger. I am always dreaming of
Kukuanaland andgngool and King Solomon's
mines. I assure you 1 have become the victim
of an almost unaccountable craving. I am sick
of shooting pheasants and partridges, and
want to havo a go at somo largo game again.
There, you know the feeling when ono has
onco tasted brandy and water, milk becomes
insipid to tho pulate. That yeur wo spent
together up in Kukuanaland seems to mo
worth all tho other years of my lifo put
together. I daro say that I am a fool for my
pains, but I can't help it; I long to go, and,
what is more, I mean to go."
"Ah," I said, "I thought you would como
to that sooner or later. And now. Good,
what is your reason for wanting to trek
havo you got onof '
"I have," said Good, solemnly. "I never
do anything without a reason; and it isn't a
lady at least, if it is, it's several."
1 looked at bim again ; Good is so over
povveringly frivolous. "What is it?" I said.
"Well, if you really want to know, though
I'd rnther not fcpeak of a delicate and strictly"
personal matter, "1 11 tell you; I'm getting too
fat."
"Shut up, Good!" said Sir Henry, "And
now, Quatermain, toll us, where do you pro
pose going to?"
I lit my pipe, which had gone out, before
answering.
"Havo you people ever heard of Mt.
Kenia?" I asked.
"Don't know tho place," said Good.
"Did you ever bear of the Island of Lamu?"
I asked again.
"No. Stop, though isn't it a place about
300 miles north of Zanzibar?''
"Ye. Now listen. What I have to pro
pose is this: That we co to Lamu, and thence
make our way about 250 miles inland to Mt.
Kenia; from Mt. Kenia on inland to Mt. Le
kakLsera, another 200 miles, or thereabouts,
beyond w hich no white man has, to tho best
of my belief, ever been; and then, if we get
so far, right on into the unknown interior.
Whatdo you say to that, my hearties?"
"It is a big order," said Sir Henry reflect
ively. "You are right," I answered, "it is; but 1
take it that we are all three of us in search of
a big order. We want a change of scene, and
wo aro likely to get one a thorough change.
All my life I havo longed to visit those parts,
and I mean to do it before I dio. My poor
boy's death has broken tho last link between
mo and civilization, and I'm off to my native
wilds. And now I'll tell you nnothor thing,
and that is, that for years and years I have
heard rumors of a great white race which is
supposed to have its home somewhere up in this
direction, and I have a mind to seo if there is
any truth in them. If you fellows like to
come, well and good ; if not, I'll go alone."
"I'm your man, though I don't believe in
your white race," said Sir Henry Curtis,
rising and placing his arm upon my shoulder.
"Ditto," remarked Good; "I'll go into train
ing at onco. By all means let's go to Mt.
Kenia and the other place with an unpro
nounceable name, and look for a white race
that does not exist. It's all one to me."
"When do you propose to start?" asked Sir
Henry.
"This day month," I answered, "by the
British India steamboat; and don't you be so
certain that things don't exist because you do
not happen to have heard of tbem. Remem
ber King Solomon's mines."
Somo fourteen weeks or so had passed since
the dato of this conversation, and this his
tory goes on its way in very different sur
roundings. After much deliberation and inquiry we
came to the conclusion that our best starting
point for Mount Kenia would be from the
neighborhood of tho mouth of the Tana river,
and not from Mombasa, a place over 100
miles nearer Zanzibar. This conclusion we
arrived, at from information given to us by a
German trader whom we met upon tho
steamer at Aden. I think that he was the
dirtiest German I ever knew; but be was a
good fellow, and gave us a great deal of val
uable information. "Lamu," said he, "you
goes to Lamu oh, ze beautiful place!"' and
ho turned up his fat face and beamed with
mild rapture. "Ono year and a half I live
there and never change my shirt never at
all."
And so it came to pass that on arriving at
the island we disembarked with all our goods
and chattels, and not knowing where to go,
marched boldly up to the house of her
majesty's consul, where we were most hos
pitably received.
"Well, where are you gentlemen steering
for?" asked our friend, the hospitable consul,
as we smoked our pipes after dinner.
"We propose to go to Mt. Kenia, and then
on to Mt. Lekakisera," answered Sir Henry.
"Quatermain has got hold of some yarn about
there being a white race up in the unknown
territories beyond."
The consul looked interested, and answered
that ho had heard something of that too.
"What have you heard?" I asked.
"Oh, not much. All I know about it is that
a year or so ago I got a letter from Macken
zie, tho Scotch missionary, whose station,
'The Highlands.' is placed at tho highest nav
igable point of the Tana river, in which he
said something about it."
"Have you the letter?" I asked.
"No, I destroyed it; but I remember that
he said that a man had arrived at his station
who declared that two months' journey be- j
yond Mt. Lekakisera, which no whito man I
has jet visited at least, so far as I know he
found a lake called Laga, and that then he
went off to the northeast, a month's journey,
over desert and thorn veldt and groat
mountains, till he came to a country where
tho people are white and live in stone houses.
Here he was hospitably entertained for a
while, till at last tho priests of the country
set it about that he was a devil, and the peo
ple drove him away, and he journeyed for
eight months nnd reached Mackenzie's place,
as I heard, d3-ing. 1 hat's all I know; and if
you ask me, I believe that it is a lie; but if
you want to find out more about it you had
better go up the Tana to Mackenzie's place,
and ask him for information."
Sir Henry and I looked at each other.
Here was something tangible.
"I think that we will go to S$r. Macken
zie's," I said. i ,
"Well," answered theconsu, "that is your
rest way; but I warn you that you are likely
to b.tvo a rough journey, for I bear that the
.Masai aro about, and, as you know, they are
not pleasant customers. Your liest plan will
bo to clioose a few picked men for personal
Kcrvant ami hunters, and to biro bearers
from villngo to village. It will give you an
infinity of trouble, but perhaps on tho wholo
it will prove a cheaper and more advantage
ous course than engaging a caravan, and you
will bo less liublo to desertion."
Fortunately there were at Lamu at this
ti'iio a party of Wakwafl A&kari (soldiers).
Tho Wakwafl, who aro a cross between the
Masai and the Wataveta, aro a tine manly
race, possessing many of tho good qualities of
of tho Zulu and a greater capacity for civili
zation. They aro also great hunters. As it
hnpijenod, these particular men had recently
leen n long trip with an Englishman named
Jutson, who hail started from Mombasa, a
loi t about l."0 miles below Lamu, and jour
neyed right round Kilimanjairo, ono of the
highest known mountains in Africa. Poor
fellow, he had died of fever when on bis re
turn journey, and within a day's march of
Mombasa. It does seem hard that bo should
have gono off thus when within a fow hours
of safety, and after having survived so many
perils, but so it was. His hunters buried him,
and then came on to Lamu in a dhow. Our
iriend the consul suggested to us that wo had
better try and hire theso men, and accord
ingly on the following morning we started to
interview tho party, accompanied by an in
terpreter. In duo course we found them in a mud hut
on tho outskirts of tho town. Thrco of the
men were sitting outside tho hut, and fine,
frank looking fellows they were, having a
more or less civilized appearance. To them
wo cautiously opened the object of our visit,
at first with very scant success. They declared
that they could not entertain any such idea,
that they were worn and weary with long
traveling, and that their hearts wero soro at
ihe loss of their master. They meant to go
back to their homes and rest awhile. This
did not sound very promising, so by way of
effecting a diversion I asked where the re
mainder of them were. I was told thero were
six, and I saw but three. Ono of the men
iaid that they slept in tho hut, and wero yet
restiug after their labors "sleep weighed
down their eyelids, and sorrow made their
hearts as lead ; it was best to sleep, for with
sleep came f orgetfuiness. But the men should
bo awakened."
Presently they camo out of the hut, yawning
tho first two men being evidently of the same
race and stylo as thoso already before us; but
tho appearance of tho third and last nearly
made nio jump out of my skin. Ho was a very
tall, broad man, quite six foot three, I should
say, but gaunt, with lean, wiry looking limbs.
My first glanco at him told me that ho was
no Wakwafl ho was a pure bred Zulu. He
camo out with his thiu, aristocratic looking
hand placed before his faco to hide a yawn,
so I could only see that ho was a "Keshla," or
ringed man, and that he bad a great three
cornered hole in his forehead. In another
second ho removed his hand, rovealing a
powerful looking Zulu face, with a humorous
mouth, a short woolly beard tinged with
gray, and a pair of brown eyes keen as a
hawk's. I knew my man at once, although I
had not seen him for twelve years. "How dc
you do, Umslopogaas?" I 6aid, quietly, in
Zulu.
Tho tall man (who among his own people
was commonly known as the "Woodpecker
and also as the "Slaughterer") started, and
almost let tho long handled battleax ho held
in his hand fall in his astonishment. Next
second ho had recognized me, and was salut
ing me in an outburst of sonorous language
which mado his companions tho Wakwafi
stare.
"Koos" (chief), he began, "Koos-y-Pagate!
Koos-y-umcool!" (chief from of old mighty
chief). "Koos! Baba!" (father). "Macunia
zahn, old hunter, sla3er of elephants, eater
up of lions, clover one watchful one! brave
one! quick one! whose shot never misses,
who strikes straight home, who grasps a hand
and holds it to tho death" (L c., is a true
friend). "Koos! Baba! wise is the voice of our
people that says: 'Mountain never meets
with mountain, but at daybreak or at even
man shall niett again with man.' Behold! o
messenger camo up from Natal. 'Macunia
zahn is dead!' cried ho. "Tho land knows
Macumazahn no more.' That is years agot
And now, behold, now is this strange place of
stinks I find Macumazahn, my friend. There
is no room for doubt; tho brush of the old
jackal has gono a little gray, but is not his eye
as keen, and are not his teeth as sharp? Ha!
ha! Macumazahn, mindest thou how thou
didst plant tho ball in tho eye of the charging
buffalo mindest thou"
I had let him run on thus because I saw
that his enthusiasm was producing a marked
effect upon the minds of the fivo Wakwafis,
who appeared to understand something of his
talk; but now I thought it time to put a stop
to it, for there is nothing that I hate so much
as this Zulu system of extravagant praising
"bongering," as they call it. "Silence!" 1
said. "Has all thy noisy talk been stopped
sinco last I saw thee that it breaks out thus,
and sweeps us away? "What doest thou here
with theso men thou whom I left a chief in
Zululand? How is it that thou art far from
thine own place, and gathered together with
strangers?"
Umslopogaas leaned himself upon tho head
of bis long battleax (which was nothing else
but a polo ax with a beautiful handle of rhi
noceros horn), and his grim faco grew sad.
"My Father," be answered, "I havo a word
to tell thee, but I cannot speak it before these
low peoplo" (umfagozana), and he glanced at
the Wok wan askari; "it is for thine own ear.
My Father, this will I say," and here his face
grew stern again, "a woman betrayed me tc
the death, and covered my namo with sham
ay, my own wife, a round faced girl, be
trayed me; but I escaped from death; ay, I
broke from the very bands of those who cams
to slay me. I struct but three blows with
this mine ax Inkosikaas surely my Father
will remember it-ione to the right, one to the
left and one in front, and yet I left three men
dead. And then I fled, and, as my Father
knows, even now that 1 am old, my feet are
as the feet of the Sassaby, and there breathes
not the man who, by running, can touch me
again when onco I have bounded from his
side. On I sped, and after me came the mes
sengers of death, and their voice was as the
voice of dogs that hunt. From my own kraal
1 flew, nnd, as I passed, she who had betrayed
me was drawing water from the spring. 1
fleeted by her like the shadow of death, and
as I went I smote with mine ox, and lo ! her
head fell; it fell into the water pan. Then 1
fled north. Day after day I journeyed on:
for three moons I journeyed, resting not,
stopping not, but running on toward f orgetfui
ness, ti.l I met the party of the white hunter
who is now dead, aiM am come hither, with
his servants. And naught have I brought
with me. I who was high born, ay, of the
blood of Chaka the great king a chief, and a
captain of the regiment of the Nkomabakosi
am a wanderer in strange places, a man
without a kraaL Naught have I brought
save this mine ax; of all my belongings this
remains alone. They havo divided my cattle,
they have taken my wives, and my children
know my face no more. Yet with this ax"
and he swung the formidable weapon round
his head, making the air hiss as he clove it
"will I cut another path to fortune. I have
ppoken."
J shook my head at him. "Umslopogaas,'
2 said, "I know thee from of old. Ever ambi
tious, ever plotting to lie great, 1 fear me that
thou hast overreached thyself at last. Years
ago, when thou would.st have plotted against
Cetywayo, son of Panda. I warned thee, ar:d
thou didst listen. But now, when I was not
by theo to stay thy hand, thou bust dug a pit
for thino own feet to fall in. Is it not sof
But what is done is done. Who can make
tho dead tree green or gazo upon last year's
sun? Who can recall tho spoken word or
bring back tho spirit of tho fallen.' That
which Timo swallows comes not up again.
Let it bo forgotten!
U ...I T T . .1 . T 1 .
I .-inn IiOV, IJtUUM, u uisioouas, a miow
i llieo for a great warrior anil a bVave man.
faithful to the death. Even in Zululand,
where all tho men ifi e bravo, they c;i11.m1 tluw
tho 'Slaughterer,' und at night told stories
round tlio firo of lUy strength and deeds.
Hear mo now. Thou west this great man, my
friend" and I pointed to Sir Henry; "ho also
is a warrior as great us thou and strung as
thou art; ho could throw theo over his shoul
der. Incubu is bis name. And thou sr-est
this ono also; him with the round stomach,
tho shining eye and tho pleasant face. Boug
wan" (glass eye) "is his namo, and a good man
is he, and a true, being of a curious tribe who
pass their lifo upon tho water and live in float
ing kraals.
"Well, wo three whom thou seest would
travel inland, past Dongo Egero, tho great
whito Mountain" (Mt. Kenia), "and far into
tho unknown beyond. Wo know not whut
wo shall find thero; wo go to hunt and seek
adventures and new places, being tired of sit
ting still with tho sanu old things around us.
Wilt thou como with us? To theo shall bo
given command of all our servants; but what
shall befall thee, that I know not. Onco be
fore wo three journeyed thus in search of ad
venture, and wo took with us a man such as
thou ono Umlopa; and, behold, wo left him
tho' king of a great country, with twenty
Irnpis" (regiments), "each of three thousand
jilumed warriors, waiting on bis word. How
it shall go with theo I know not; mayhap
death awaits thee und us. Wilt thou throw
thyself to Fortune and coine, or fearest thou,
Umslopogaas?"
Tho great man smiled. "Thou art not al
together right, Macumazahn," ho said; "I
have plotted in my time, but it was not am
bition that led mo to my fall, but, shame on
ino that I should have to say it, a fair
woman's faco. Let it pass. So wo uro going
to seo something liko tho old times again,
Macumazahn, when wo fought and hunted in
Zululand? Ay, I will come. Como life,
como death, what caro I, so that tho blows
fall fast and the blood runs red? I grow old,
I grow old, and I have not fought enough!
And yet am I a warrior among warriors; sco
my scars" and ho pointed to countless cica
trices, stabs and cuts that marked tho skin of
bis chest and legs and arms. "Seo tho holo
in my head; tho brains gushed out therefrom,
yet did I slay him who binote, and live.
Kuowost thou how many men I havo slain,
in fair hand to hand combat. Macumazahn?
See, hero is tho talo of them" and ho pointed
"See, here is the (ale of them."
to long rows of notches cut in the rhinoceros
horn handle of his ax. "Number them, Macu
mazahn 103 and I have never counted but
thoso whom I have ripped open, nor have I
reckoned those whom another man had
struck."
"Bo silent," I said, for I saw that he was
getting tho blood fever ' on him; "be silent;
well art thou called the 'Slaughterer.' We
would not hear of thy deeds of blood. Re
member, if thou comest with us wo fight not
save in self defense. Listen; we need ser
vants. These men" and I pointed to tho
Wakwafi, who had retired a littlo way dur
ing our "indaba" (talk) "say they will not
come."
"Will not come!" shouted Umslopogaas;
"whero is the dog who says he will not come
when my Father orders? Here, thou" and
with a single bound Le sprung upon the 'Wak
wafi with whom I had first spoken, and seiz
ing him by the arm, dragged him towards us.
"Thou dog!" ho said, giving tho terrified man
a shako, "didst thou say that thou wouldst
not go with my Father? Say it onco moro and
I will choko thee" and his long fingers closed
around his throat as he said it "thee, and
thoso with thee. Hast thou forgotten how I
served thy brother?"
"Nay, we will come with the white man,"
gasped the man.
"Whito manl" went on Umslopogaas, in sim
ulated fury, which a very little provocation
would havo mado real enough; "of whom
speakest thou, insolent dog?"
"Nay, wo will go with tho great chief."
"So," said Umslopogaas, in a quiet voice, as
ho suddenly released his hold, so that the man
fell backward. "I thought you would."
"That man Umslopogaas seems to have a
curious moral ascendency over his compan
ions," Good afterwards remarked, thought
fully. (To le continued.)
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Sor and Swollen Throat, CVne.'i-s ' tc.
Save "0 by use of one bottle. War
ranted by Fiiekc & Co. druggists, Piatt j
moutli. o4-lyr
!
oneee.
FULL COURSES OK STTDV :
Classical. Scientific and Literary.
IsormaL and Engiist, Music, Art
and Bns-aess Dfn-rtmeiits.
New Building.
BETTER FACILITIES.
Fall term begins Sept. 20th. Table
board 2 00 to ?2.50 per week. All ex
penses lo-w. For catalogues address
Wm. M. BROOKS, Pres.,
Tabor, Iowa.
m & vL
jr - ,K"jt I Vv. V vV' 'iv1 -"f
'
labor
ji - : ,t') v. 'i'-i . o . ( : - -AVf
Ufxte-zmzti V "vP -P.-X
Have anything you want iYom a two wliiclctl go cart to a twenty-four
:i.stHMiovr v:igon. ,
CARRIAGES FOR PLEASURE AND
SHORT DRIVES,
arc always lept ready. Cans or tilit carriage..;, palMu-.-mT wnona
and every thino; for funerals lurnished on .short notice. Terms ca.sh.
FB8BH11BB!
z.
OP ALL BOOMS
After Diligent Search lias at. last been L' caled, and the
Public Avill not be greatly surprised to know that
it was found at the Lar'e
Where courteous treatment, square dealing and a Magnifi
cent htock of Goods to select from are
responsible for my
Rap Miy lacr
IT WILL BE MONEY IN YOUR POCKET
To Consult me before Buying.
UNDERTAKING AND EMBALMING A SPECIALTY.
CORNER MAIN AND SIXTH, - PLATTSMOUTII, NEHRASIC A.
ZZPSISr GOT SIXD C3T QTJZl
Or
WE CAX NOW OI I Kit M)MK
ana i
Www & w
Croatly P.cducGd Prices.
Ladies' Kid Ihitton Shoes, formerly S3. 00, now S2 0.
Ladies' Kid J'utton Shoes, tonnerly S2.2o, now 51.25.
Ladies' Pel). Goat Shoes, formerly 82.75, now si. 75.
Ladies' A Calf Shoes, formerly S2.2o, now 2.00.
Ladies' Kid Opera Slippers, formerly $1.00, now 7 "3c.
Men's "Working Shoes, tonnerly 1.75, now $1.10.
Choice Eox of few old Goods left at less than half Cost
Manufacturing and Repairing Neatly and
Promptly done.
CTaTL. .i: THE OLD STAND CD IT
ETER MERGES.
(SUCCESSOR TO
Will Ufpp contaiitly on h:ind a lull and comiik-i' stock of puo
rues and Medicines, Faints, Oils,
AVall Paper and a Full IAuq of
PURE LIQUORS.
i
my.
33 JIJU v
OXT"
e a s I n g
FJIH AND SLTEKIOll faiOMS IX
J. M. 1IOBEKTS.)
a 'A n u