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About The Sioux County journal. (Harrison, Nebraska) 1888-1899 | View Entire Issue (June 6, 1895)
z&zpww imitvr4 cr-r r c'. "'" ;' avyj sj f r AGAIN. j Com, neatly breathing oVr the eager laud, j With freb gri-eu era that apriiitfa to ( kia tby f-ft I With little br.Kikt that parkle in tb j mini). ' April' faint hininc, clouda both soft and j fleet ! All tli- fair thing that do thine advent j (.Tift, Flower with their blue eye Mill bjr ; Miowdrift wet, j uth wind miJ Myiue shower; all, all, I bow IVtvt, Let in forget! Spill fri.iu thy white band till the tender buds. Ah opal mit hi every gray old tree; I 'our from thine uru the rushing silver rl.i ' That leap, and daief. and struggle to 1 j free. ! '.,ax the pink May bloom to look up at thee. Fearless of stormy wind or front that fret; , Em uantrca. bring Dot back the pant to me, Let me forget! Alas! when all thy upells but hide a utinir. 1 Wlieu the wild bloaaom in each fragile 1 hell A lurking dro. of bitter honey bring. When hills and foreata one worn story till. When through the bird' new warble sound a knell. ( Whin grief and aweetneaa are iu all things met. When wind repeat thoae voice loved too well. Can I forget? 1'oor pnnira of earth! 1 know there comes a day. Not far nor late, when (lod'a restoring Spring Jhall net aside these miracles of clny, And his serene immortal Summer bring. Wherein 1 shall not pine fur anything Not mortHl live, nor lo. nor weak regret. Hut at his feet my irraieful rapture sing, And so forget! Hose Terry Cooke. WEYAXK'S WIFE. II V s h o it I d I waste any more thought on Isabel U e e e e?" said Vance Weyand, as he sat smoking In Ills study one night. "A f t e r promising to mar ry tile, she chose n man who had more money. I'll take !J run over to see Malvern to-morrow; he'll cheer me up. Tell ti I tn that 1 mean i! Vir 'l to mnrry again, nml speedily." lie found on reaching Malvern house the next day that lie had come too late. I U-;eH rest friend wan dead. Vance Htood at the window trying to realize what this Intelligence might mean to him, when the door opened to admit a girl dressed In deepest mourn ing the eyes passionate, Intense; the face pale as death, the small head car ried proudly, even la the face of her v oe. Could this perfect woman be the fif-teenyear-old Margery whom he dimly remembered seeing long before? She amc to him, one small hand clasped tightly In the oilier. "Darcey." he managed to articulate, and that was nil. "Didn't you know? lie Is dead." He was unable to answer her. Step ping forward, sin? laid her hand lightly on his arm. "I)o you hear? He is dead dead -dead!" and she turned and walked quickly from the room. Iiays passed, and Vance Weylnud stayed on In the little village where Margery lived, forgetting his own story at Darcey's death In an effort to allevi ate the sufferings of the lonely, stricken ulster; and In time the light returned to the girl's eyes and the color to the beautiful Hps. They wore friends. Arm, steadfast friends, and the bond which united them was love for the dead num. When the time emtio that he must leave her, Vance went to bid farewell to Mar gery, lie found her walking by the river. "Margery, I have come to Hay good liy. I must go to-morrow," he said quietly. "Coing? So soon?" she asked, with a startled look. "I regret 4J, but It Is Decennary that I iihonld do so." A dull paleness overspread the regu lar feature of the girl, but she said nothing. "I have been thinking," continued her companion presently, "what lonely lives yours and mine must of necessity be, and I have thought forgive tne If I should not that we might add to each other's happiness If you would consent to lie my wife. It la tre, we do not love each other In a romantic way; tint our tastes are alike and w agree In essential points. If you give your self to me 1 think I can make you at least content, and I am not afraid to trust my bapplnes In your band." Still she was silent, but pallor gave place to n calm brightness which grew Into radiance. She stole a aly glance at his face. It was turned from her, mid tilled with a strange unrest She knew that his mind had returned to lils old love, aud she grew suddenly grave. So long she remained silent that he looked around In surprise. "Yon do not answer. My words bar not offended you?" "1 am not offended." "Will you be my wlfer "Yes." "And soon? Itemember my lonely life." "If you desire It" "Thank you, Margin; you bar mad f Bie very happy." He stooped and quietly kissed her. 4 they we're married, and life passed mm I 1 N i (3 for tnauy i r!: in quietness and pctve I hsflldN-r bui come, with chill wlndi ami heavy Christina was j r"chin. Vance was returnii.g home fro Hi a neighboring city, thinking of his life a it now was, and as it might have iM-en, and be felt that t!iugh be had once thought existence worthless with out t:,at which he deemed necessary to his happiness, he w ould not exchauge what be ixiss.-ss.-d f.r th realization of the divam of his younger day. For he hved Margery us he had never dreamed he could love woman again. At that moment his wife was stand ing, tall aud motionless. In the brightly lighted drawing-room, facing a beau tiful woman whose d irk eyes, large aud lustrous, loijied detiance Into hers. "'He is your husband?" she was say ing. "He is my husband." assented Mar gery, w ith a half sob in her throat. "Your husband, but uiy lover. Ue- me:iibcr that. It was I he loved, not you; for that I could almost forgive him for marrying you." Margery did, not move. Tlie white lips grew whiter, hut a great scorn liuni'-d in her eyes; she felt the truth of her guest's statement; hut that she should have put It into words! At that moment .Vance entered the room. The snow outside had deadened the wiuiid of his approach. Margery did not know thiu he had returned until with a sudden movement the woman before her leaned forward, and "Vance" in soft, dulcet tones fell from her Hps. "Isabel!" "The doctors tell me I have not long to live and I have come to make my peace with you, Vauce. I could not. go leaving you iu the belief that 1 was entirely heartless. I fjant to ask " "All Is forgiven and forgotten, Mrs. Weston. Pray do not disturb yourself. I trust that your physicians are mis taken, however." Vance's tone was kind but Cold. She looked ut him keenly. "You forgive me? That Is almost more than I had hoped." Her slender white hand moved rest lessly toward 111 in. and he was com pelled to take It Margery Inwardly winced, but gave no outward sign of distress, She did not see what her husband saw, that Mrs. Weston was exciiMliugly 111. Vance made a slight attempt to re move the lingers which he held, but their clasp tightened in his; there was u slight swaying of the lithe body, anil Isabel Weston was lying In his arms, her beautiful face on his breast, utter ly unconscious. lie placed her on a sofa. In a few minutes she recovered and Insisted oil returning to her father's house. Wheu Vance re-entered the drawing-room, afti-r having placed Isabel In her carriage, he found Mar gery standing at the window, her face pressed closely against the panes. He took her cold hand In his. and led her unresistingly to the tire. She obediently raised her eyes to his face, but dropped them quickly. "I have a confession which 1 must" "No, no, no!" she Interrupted. "I can bear no more. Have I not seen and heard enough. Is not my burden sutll cleiitly heavy that you seek to add to it? It was cruel of you, and yet I. too, was to blame. I should not have mar ried you, knowing as I did, that you still cure for her; but I was foolish enough to jjhlnk you would forget how foolish I never before realized. She said oh. she should not! that you were my husband, but her lover; and you you " "Margery, you cannot believe thnt I am dlslioi orable enough to cherish love for a woman who. until a few weeks ago. was the wife of another man? The day on which I married you saw the burial of my past love, and a new ou si: i ded It a love stronger, purer. than I gitve to Isabel Iteece a love which Is given to a woman who I know loves me. and w hom, thank heav en, no other man can call his wife. You are mine, aid I claim my own." Still she was silent and iinresismsl ve. "Margery," he went on, in a pained voice, which yet contained a great de termination, "you must trust me.' "uh, Vance, If I only might! Hut It has followed me always this thought that you " A sound of hurried footsteps; the door was burst oieu, aud a servant stood breathless on the threshold. "Mrs. Weston's carriage, sir. There was an accldeut, and Mrs. Westou is dead. I think. They are bringing her here." In a few minutes Isabel was again upon the sofa from which she had so lately risen. The black eyes opened, Vance beut over her with a murmured thanksgiving that her life had been spared for a short time. She lifted one slender hand to his face. "I'oor Vance," she whlsjiered. "Y'ou loved me then, yiu love her now. I knew it when you spoke to me so cold ly. My vanity led me astray It was only a boyish fancy, soon forgotten it wus licst so. They say I did not love Terence, but ah! It wn death to me to see him die! Ills beautiful face so white and cold the ah, the pain is here!" Her hand was pressed agnlnst her heart "They told me 1 could not live; I shall see him soon. You said you had for " Her sentence was never finished. She had gone to him. The tears were streaming down Mar gery's checks, and Vance's eyes were moist "Margery, my darling, you see how It Is. Are you willing to trust me now?" On steady, searching glance, and tfaelr Hps met In a long, solemn kiss. Tho clock In the neighboring church Chimed the midnight hour, and they knelt band In hand, united in heart by the side of the quiet form of Isabel Weston, and the cold dawn of morn ing found them still keeping a silent watch beside the one who had en countered death as they entered umui a new life of happiness and love. Yan kee Blsdn. Friendship is a great and glorious Institution, whose praises we all sing. but whose value we seldom appreciate, ' or we would Hot do so many thousand j and one fodish tilings that tend to dis sipate it. T begin with, if you have a circle of charming friends, do not think that you can Inqsise on their good nature tisi often. They may lie very, very fond of you. but they do not care to be continually reminded of your woes, of whatever nature they may lie. There are some, but. oh. so pitifully few es.cepti.ms that actually sympa thize wltli you and want to help you. As a rule, however, directly you make a wry face you can see the change creep Into the warmth of their wel come. The shadow dims the sunshine of their smile. It doesn't pay to jeop ardize friendship by being tisj confi dential. If you are poor and do not like being so, keep the fact and the hatred of it to yourself. 1'ut the best foot forward, and when you meet your friends let them discover In themselves that you are plucklly lighting your own battles and do not a.sk either their sympathy of their aid. You are ever so much more certain of getting lxith when the time of need arrives than If you go about crying "wolf" and talking pover ty so continually that your theme and yourself become a nuisance. If you are unhappy in your domestic life, how much more respect will be your quota! if you keep till the annoying family ' troubles to yourself. PiKiple may feel sorry for you. but after a while you get to be a bore whom they will take pains to avoid, whereas if you do not annoy them with your grievances you will be continually received with a gJad wel come and they will put themselves out of the way to meet you. The world Is too full of sorrow for even friendship to seek out some har rowing symptom of It In another In order to sympathize with It. "I.augh and the win-id laughs with you; weep and you weep alone," is a very truthful sentiment. Cast aside your own little vvoiriinciits when you meet your friends and you will remain popular always, but if you trespass on their .ilfectloii for you and annoy them with your real or fancied grievances you will lind yourself out in the cold before you can say ".lack Koblnson." An Old Mun's Hurling. Nelly lily, t!u; famous woman repor ter. Is never happy a minute unless she is creating a sensation, and her latest achievement in this line Is her recent marriage to a man forty-two years her senior, who is the fortunate possessor of $:!,iii.oiii. The happy man Is Hub ert Seamiu). president of the Ironclad Manufacturing Company of New York. He has be -n a director In the Mer chants' Kxchange National Hank for thirty years, and is a large real estate owner lu the vicinity of New Y'ork City. Ills palatial four-story brown stone front In a fashionable residence quarter of New Y'ork cost IIWi.ikki, and he is said to possess so much property that ho cannot tell exactly how much be Is worth. He is VI year old. was never married lefore, and surrendered to Miss Hly's charms, after a fort night's courtship. It Is said. Why iKietin't She? The mcnilHTS of a "woman's club" had Just dispersed from the home of one of their iiuiuIht. "Mamma," said little Tommy, "were the lnilhti talking of the same 'coming woman' to-day that uhey talked of the last time they were here?" "Yes" "Well, It seems to me she Is a long time coming Why doesn't she take the trolley?" "Tommy, you can run out and play." (data, in Italtltnore Telegram. A Child's Hlght to Property, With children, as with ultilts, what they possess ought to be recognized as liclng absolutely their own. Hut this Is very far from being the case. Some times a grown-up person has need of some article liclonglng to a child, or wishes It to be given to some other child, and tho rlghtrul owner Is so coaxed and blamed and shamed as to l actually comKdled to give up the ar ticle. In some cases It Is taken with out asking. No grown iK-rssm would lie treated thus, and no child ought to lie, nor would lx- by any caretaker who could enter sympathetically Into the feelings or the rhlld. One ought to "respect the rights of NEI.LY HLY. property" where children are con cerned as scrupulously as with grown leople; anJ wle-n this Is Intelligently done the ch'ldren themselves Boon learn to recognize these rights with one another, and quarrels lietweeii them are reduced to a minimum. Hut if, on the other iciiid, the child's own right nre ruthlessly trampled on by thost whom be is taught to consider his in fallible teachers, It is only natural that be. In his turn, should learn to tram ple us ruthlessly on the rights of oth ers. Science of Motherhood. Hints for Women, I o not let every one kiss him. Io give him pure nlr at all tUnes. Don't wear your clothes tight if you are too fat. Io not let any one jostle and shake and tickle him. Don't wear a hat too young uuless you wish to look old. Do let him have a few spisiufuls of water several limes a day. Do not keep him so warm that he can not sleep. Hables, as a rule, are bun dled up too much. Don't wear a bang bigger than the moment's fashion Justifies If you don't wish to look hopelessly vulgar. Do not neglivt him, and tlsjii, when he. cries for some needed ntteiitiou. say fhat he Is a "cross, bad-tempered 111 lie nuisance." Don't wear a veil with a hole In it It gives a woman a squalid hsik of pov erty that there Is no excuse for. Veils cost little, and at the worst she euu go without one. Don't lift up your skirts high on one side and allow it to trail on the other. Kvery woman should practice holding up her skirts before a pier glass. They can be so caught altogether In the back as to lift them effectively iiuil mod estly. The Klornl Hlonse. The accompanying Illustration shows one of the latest faahlons on the other side of the water and w'.l !i promises TIIK FI.OISAt. M.orsK. to become very popular here. It Is a new evening blouse. All colors are ac ceptable In material, as the taste of the wearer may dictate. The material to bp used Is satin or meru, witn trimmed waterfall and bertha of violets or other flowers, ribbon and chiffon. A Surgical Outfit. The woman who travels nowadays carries with her what formerly would have been regarded as a tolerable out lit for a surgeon. She has a neat linen or leather medicine case, where bottles may be placed beneath elastic bands and kept from breaking. A tiny flask, containing brandy, another full of alco hol, and some lavender water form a very good liquid outfit for the travel er, and one which provides her with all the liquid necessities of life except water. Resides these a tiny envelope of court plaster, a pair of scissors, a threaded needle, some twine and a soft linen cloth should lie carried. Fate cannot harm her wdio goes thus provided for emergencies. She is ready alike for ripped gowtm and mil way wrecks. Women, Hiivc One Advantage. It has now been discovered that wo men's lives can lie insured at no great er risk ttian men's; Indeed, discrimina tion Is in favor of women, owing to the supposition that they arc freer from anxious and wearing business care than lire men. Women have been in the habit of thinking that they have as much care as men, but perhaps "we have changed all that," as the French say. Womankind. To Keep Tout Crisp. Toasting bread adds a great deal to Its flavor, besides making it more nutri tious, but toast without crlspuess is worse than no toast at all. The aecom- panylng picture shows u very handy device for keeping It crbp. It is some thing like a chitting tilsli, with a spirit lamp for making thc needed heat. The "crlsper'' stands on the break fast table and the toast Is kept In II Instead of on a plate. The device Is simple, Inexpensive' and effective. It also serves to "earaniellJie" the toast, a culinary process th.it oil lovers of this kind of bread know the value of. CO.SVKNIKXT t.lTTI.K fONTM V A NCK. I lAl ! as.:T Jllgbwaya of the I'c-ru vians. Perhaps the earliest road on record is that mentioned by Herodoius as hav ing been constructed by Cheops, the F.gyptian king, lu order that stones might be dragged along for his pyra mid. In the opinion of the Oreek trav eler, the work of making the road was as great as that of building the pyra mid, for it took ten years to construct and it was composed of polished stones with figures carved on them. Hut this does not compare iu magnitude with the highways constructed by the Peru vians w hile mediaeval Europe was still iu u state of semi-barbarous organiza tion. The two principal roads lu Peru ran from Quito, in the north, to Cuzuo, the capital, the one along the sandy and level strip of coast, the other along the plateau of the Andes, a region of unparalleled engineering difficulty. The length of the second has been esti mated at 1,500 to 2,000 miles. It cross ed Sierras buried in snow, bridged ra vines with walls of solid masonry, mounted and descended precipices by staircases hewn in the solid rock and ran lu Interminable galleries aloug the sides of Intractable mountains. Where rivers had to be crossed bridges were made with ropes of stout, pliant osier twisted to the thickness of a man's body and stretched over the stream sometimes for a distance of 200 feet These cables swung side by side, and fastened with planks so as to form u footway were drawn through holes In enormous buttresses of stone spe cially constructed on each bank and were secured firmly at jach end to heavy beams of timber. A railing of similar osier material gave 1he passen ger confidence us he crossed the oscil lating bridge that sank dangerously iu the mdldle and mounted rapidly at the sides. The great highway was twenty feet wide and was built with Hags of free stone covered with bituminous cement. It was measured out by posts set up at every league. Caravtuiserics and maga zines were stationed at convenient dis tances for the Peruvian soldiers on their military expeditions, and a regu lar postal service had been organized by which highly trained runners, re lieved every five miles, could convey messages a distance of 200 miles lu twenty-four hours. The roads were kept In beautiful order, the Inhabitants of a district being responsible for that portion of the highway which travers ed their land. At the same time It should bo remembered that there was no wheel traffic to cut up the level sur face of the hard pavement. There is considerable irony in the fact that it was not till the Spaniards forcibly in troduced their so-called civilization in to Peru that the. famous roads began to fall into disrepair. Loudon Standard. Help to Make had Kouils. Mr. Thomas H. Parker, iu a paper read before the Burlington County (N. J.) Hoard of Agriculture, gives the fol lowing views on good roads and their maintenance: "Iu 1:!8 I was the owner of one-half part of tue Salem and Philadelphia line of the United States Mall stage and handled the ribbons over good four horse teams for seven years, traveling thirty-five miles a day, 10,1)20 miles a year, and 70,440 miles, or more than three times the circumference of the globe, In the seven years. It was In thU traveling that I studied the cause of bad roads and the remedy. Narrow tired wagon wheels are the real cause of lad roads. They will sink Into the ground and make deep ruts In wet weather, and In dry weather the sand or dust falls back Into the rut after the wheels pass aud partly tills up the rut. Therefore wagons on the level ground are constantly moving up hill. "The remedy Is to remove the cause. Petition the legislature to regulate the width of wagon tires. With tire-Inch tires on the sand a ton can be hauled with ease where with the narrow tire an empty wagon Is a load. Tires should be wide enough to keep the wheel on top of the ground, and without mak ing a rut will roll the ground hard and smooth from side to side. The regula tion tire should be five Inches for the one horse wagon, six inches for two or three horses, and seven Inches for four or more. One horse carts should have six-Inch tires, and trucks for carting marble or granite should have 'six-Inch for one horse, seven-inch for two or three, as all the pressure Is on the wheels. "All two-horse stage coaches should not have less than six-Inch tires. Light carriages may have two Inches. The change of width of fellies could be ac complished without taking the fellies off the wheels at small cost. To change a two-Inch to a six-Inch a facing of two Inches on each side of the felly can be securely fastened so that the felly will be as good If not better than new. A Bessemer steel tire six Inches wide and one-quarter Inch thick will cost but lit tle more than Iron, but will outwear Iron and lie much stronger. With such a law, grade nil public roads from one to three rods wide, according to the travel, when sandy mixing In clay ami with clay adding sand. The center should be from four to six Inches higher than the outside. After grading "the road should be rolled with a cast Iron rolle: f feet long, 4 feet In diameter at eacll end and .1 fe -t it inchns iu the middle. The concave of roller will suit the rad ius of the road. The weight of th roller should be six or seven lolis." Ducks mid Winkles in Formosa. The i!i.'e:.ui;y of Chinese methods of fishing is very well known. The Hritisii Consul at Tamsui, iu Formosa, describes a method of fishing there for small winkles which are required Iu large quaii'ltii-s for feeding the thous ands of ducks that are bred there artl- , fic'.alh-. A crowd of boats may always be seen at flood tide, each with one man iu It. who Is constantly engaged in hauling up his peculiar net discharging its contents Into his boat, and then pitching the net out again. A large stone carries the net to the bottom; and It is so nicely arranged aud balanced as to cause the net to stand on the bot tom of the river at the most convenient angle for the reception of the winkles, which ar swept into it by the tid". The Consul also describes the artificial duck hatching above mentioned, which is a great feature in the local native indus tries. A long, low shed is built, mostly of wattles and mud. with a thick thatched roof. Along the inside wsHs are arranged rough troughs, which are tilled up with grain and roasted paddy husk, on which the eggs are placed as fast as they are laid. In the summer no particular precautions are taken, but in winter the eggs are covered over with quilted coverlets; aud far more care is taken to exclude cold draughts than Is ever dreamed of iu a native dwelling house. The grain, which is sprinkled with a little warm water, sets up a fermentation, and that, with the help of the warm paddy-husk, which is continually being chai.ged, hatches the eggs in about thirty days. By this simple and inexpensive process the breeder Is enabled to sell young duck lings at about one penny each. Many (locks of ducks, averaging live hun dred to the flock, can always be seen up river at low tide, feeding on mud banks, nml attended by a man iu a small boat, who occasionally feeds them with some of the winkles, aud guides them about from place to place by Ills voice and by the movements of his boat. Electricity in Forests. Electricity will soon make itself felt in the forests of Washington State, says Paul Humphreys, of Seattle. The Seattle Lumber Company, which car ries on pretty extensive operations in the timber out there, is about to make the experiment which has beeu suc cessfully tried elsewhere. Attempts have been made heretofore to cut down the big giants of our won derful forests with saws operated by steam, but portable engines were hard to move about easily, and a number of other difficulties were also met that made the scheme Inpractieable. With electricity, however, things will be dif ferent. A centra! plant for the genera tion of the fluid will be set up, and of course Its power can be sent anywhere by a wire, and there are few places where a wire cannot be run. The saws will be provided with light gearing and attachments, and will be so arranged that they will not only be able to cut down a tree, but to divide It Into logs after It has fallen. "Most of the timber in Washington is now felled by axmen, and their work is little short of marvellous. Some of them are so expert that they can cut down a tree and make it fall wherever they wish. They will put a peg in the ground, for Instance, somewhere in the rad Ins of the circle in which the tree they are about to attack will be bound to fall, aud w ager anything tluy possess that they can make the tree; when it falls, drive the peg. There was some talk at Port Blakesley, before I left home, about sending some of our expert axmen to Australia to compete In the contests that are held there each year, In which the timber choppers of Tasmania are said to perform almost incredible feats with the axe." Mining and Matrimony. All the fortunes in gold are not dis covered lu the far West even yet, nor all the romances exhausted In the American El Dorado, as the following recital from the New York Tribune reveals: The gold mine said to havo the largest output of any in the world Is the Little .lohnny, of U-ndville, Colo., owned by John F. Campion. He went to Leadvllle and took up the Little Johnny after four other miners lm.l abandoned it because they could not find a truce of carbonates. When Ins was a poor prospector, two years ago. he became acquainted with a school teacher, Miss Nellie May Daly. II.; could not mary her because he was too poor, but with an Income of iji.'!oo,'oo :i year, which lie now has, that obstacle has been removed, and they were mar ried In Denver on Monday last. II.; has ordered the construction of a resi dence there to cost $100,000. Flying Squirrel Does Not Fly. Of course the flying squirrel has no wings, and he does not really rise and fly; but good Mother Nature has kindiy given him a wide fringe of skin run ning nearly all the way around his body, which forms a very perfect para chute. When he leaps from his tree-top Into the nlr, and spreads himself, Ui parachute and his broad, flat tall enable him to float down easily and gracefully. In a slanting direction, until he aliglitA Jow down on the trunk of a tree per haps fifty or evee 1W feet distant. Then he clambers ulmbif up to !u top, chooses his direction, and launches forth again, quite possibly to the sani;' tree from which he started. Ills flight Is simply & sailing downward at an angle of about forty-five degrees, with a graceful sweep upward at the last, to enable him to nllght easily. St. Nicholas. New C nre far Consumption, A lady who was dying of consump tion last summer Is well now, She w., struck by lightning, and slnco Lei steadily gained la health. J .i m, . i, mtfi i "iniJ1 i iSsr'.s. r'sasssii ' -' ' hi i in n - - - . ' . .
