Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The Sioux County journal. (Harrison, Nebraska) 1888-1899 | View Entire Issue (June 18, 1896)
The Sioux County J OURNALi VOLUME V1IL HARKISON, NEBRASKA THURSDAY, JUNE 18, 1896. NUMBER 41. i - THERE had been a royal fire In Daddy John's cabin, and there was still a great bed of glowing coala when bla daughter Liz called lilm to dinner. Daddy warmed bla thin, bine handa at the Are and the sweot smell of the corn pone and the fra grance of the coffee were very pleas ant to him. His old, wlsened face wrinkled Into something meant for a mile. "The doctor woman's bar'l lies couie!" be aald. "I seen It on Jule Fraley's wagon." replied Liz, her dark, weather-beaten face lighting. "Come an' eat dinner, dad," she add ed. "I'm a-comln'," quavered the old man, tottering forward and pulling aloiijf tin old splint chair. "Wbar'a thet piece er saddle blan ket?' he croaked. "I bed It er rldin' romp," declared Bud. "You git It mighty quick," said his mother. Bud brought a tattered sheepskin which the old man carefully folded In the chair and then sat down. That part of Daddy John's apparel which came In contact with tha sheep skin was so attenuated as to fabric that the Interposition of the worn fleece was most comforting. "I've got ter hev some new does, Liz," said Daddy, presently. Bhe looked at Bud. "Bud wants some new clo'es powerful bad, too, but he eats sech a heap, 'pears like I cayn't never git him noan.'' "Bud kin git erlong," wild the old man, testily. "Don't you reckon the doctor wom an's got clo'es In her bar'l T asked Liz. "I reckon. But raebby ther alu't nary thing fer me." "Ef you should go up thar " "I ain't er golti'," Interrupted the old man, almost angrily. "Doctor wom an's al'ays leen good ter we una an' I don't aim ter ax her-fer ary thing. Hit feeble hands trembled as be took up his torn hat. "She got plenty of everything," said Liz, sullenly. "It don't differ. I ain't goin'!" Daddy John went out. "Dad al'ayt wut er fool!" mused Liz. as she lit her pipe. "You go an' help yer grandad pick up taters," she called to Bud. Bud, sauntering lazily toward the po tato bank, saw somebody swinging along the mountain toward the eabli. "Thar's the doctor woman's nigger er coinln' atteryou, grandad," he called. Daddy John set his spade down bard and leaned forward on the handle. "Comln atter me? You'se i plum IdJIt, Bud." But he stared from under his shaggy brows and breathed hard as the hand some yellow woman came up, "Howdy, Sally!" "Howdy, Daddy John. Banklu' up yer taters?" "I reckon." He was shaking nil over and felt si' K "Got some permaters ylt, daddy? Ci' me tome! I want a permater pio, I does." "Yls, yls," said the old man, shortly. "Doctor wants you to come np '.liar, daddy. She's got sumfin fer you'se out en her bar'l." "Yessum. I'll come atter I gin my taters done hanked up." Sally started off with her tomnlocs. "Tell her I'm obleeged to her," calls I daddy's cracked voice, " "What my missis wants to throw away good clo'es on that pore whlto trash fer, I don't know," grumbled Snl ly. "Me and Jake could er make use o' all o' them things." Daddy John went on with bis work. "Ain't yer er goln', grandad?" cried Bud. "Yls, I'm er golu' right now." He toddled off to the cabin, washed his hands at the porch and dried them on a bit of burlaps. The doctor was watching for the old man. lie j;ave a queer pull at his tattered hat brim ns he came near. "Howdy, Daddy John! Fro 'Ight glad to tee you. Come In!" He stood at the edge of the hearth, gazing at the bnrrel. The doctor smil ed. "Your hat la getting pretty old, ibidd. The brim Is torn and there's such a big hole In the crown!" "Yessura. Hll't plum worn out, sure nuff." "Never mind," said the doctor. "I have such a nice ctp for you," showing it to blm. "Made of toft fur and with ear lappets to tie down." The old face altered. It lost ten weary yean. , "Try It on, daddy! Now, It It not nice? You won't freeze your poor earn th It winter." "No, ma'am! Thankee, ma'am. 1 reckon I'd better go now." "Wait a bit. You need tome shoe daddy. Here are some good ones." "Mighty fine shoes, mighty line," mumbled the old man. "Now, you need some soft warm socks. Here they are. You want to put them on, don't you? Come in here. And now I must go go oh, yes go to feed my chickens. But there's one thing more. Here Is a nice pair of trousers!" "Doctor!" "It's all right, Daddy! They will Just fit you, I'm sure." Such a droll figure awaited the doc tor's return. A little gray old man, his small spindle legt rattling around In the fine black trousers, hit ragged, fad ed calico shirt abashed In such com pany. He looked at her speechless, his wrinkled face working. She smiled at him. "I have a vest here for you, Daddy, and I'll give you a clean white shirt to take home." "Doctor!" the old man gasped. "I cayn't " "Don't worry, Daddy. Try on the vest" He put It on, tugging weakly at the buttons. "Jest what I needed," he muttered, huskily. "You look very nice, Daddy, There's only one thing more, and here It Is the finest, warmest coat In Buncombe County." She held It up by the shoulders and drew it on. "Now, Is not that a lovely coat?" He stroked the soft cloth gently, pull ing at the fronts with his stubby fin gers. "It's lined with silk," said the doc tor. "Daddy, I shouldn't know you." He looked down at himself In a dazed way. Then he started. "I'd Iwtter go home now," he said, hurriedly. "I never had nary suit o' do es afore. Ood bless ye, doctor." He caught her hand. "I'm so glad to give them to you, Daddy," she said softly, with tears. The next day Jule Fraley came up to mend the roof and while he warmed himself at the fire he told ue story of Daddy's return houie. "We wuz a ptillln' corn, nw au' Liz an' Bud, an' I see the old man er com ln' down the hill, an' I says: 'Look yon, Liz! Is thet yer dad? '"Naw!" says Liz. "Thet alu't dnd. Looks like ole Treacher Freeman.' "Sure nuff he did look pint blank like ole Preacher Freeman. An' we watched 'Im tell he crossed the branch, au' when he clliu' up the lunik he stag gered a bit yer know daddy's mighty onstlddy on his legs an' I knowed who hit was, an' I said: " ' 'TIs yer daddy, Liz.' An' Liz were plum outdone 'at she didn't know her own daddy," concluded Jule, Indulging In one of those silent laughs peculiar to his kind. He went up on the roof presently and the doctor came out to overlook the work, always charmed in to lingering by the wonderful beauty of the landscape. The house tat upon one of t))c foothills of the great Appal achian range, east of the French Broad. Looking west one saw a wood ed, undulating country, rolling away to the valley and there stayed by the mas sive wall of a great mountain that rose far Into the blue. Along the mountain side the railroad made Ita way over high trestles and red clay emlxuik tnents, and at times one caught the sound of the whistle, the nimble of wheels and saw the train rush along, small In the distance like a child's toy.J All at once there was a shout and at the same Instant a shot rang out. "Thar's a convict got off," cried Jule, when the doctor appeared. "1 saw him Jump off the train," The doctor shivered. "And they" didn't stop?" "Why, no, but the guard fired on him. They'll send a party back when they gits to Blltinore, an' offer $100 reward fer hlm, likely. Don't I wish I c'd git It." "Will he get caught, do you think?" "I reckon. They giu'ally does. He's tuk ter the woods now. They al'ays does when they makes a break. But he'll git an outing, anyhow. Dog oned pf I blame Mm." "Mr. Farley, where do they go when they escape like that?" "They lays In the woods. Mebby they know niggers that'll feed 'em and give 'em clo'es. They're al'ayt In a mighty hurry to git shet o' their striped suit, an' ef they do sometimes they git away fer good," Daddy John came once to visit the doctor, wearing hit new clothes, and then ha paid visits to all hit kinsfolks and old nelghbora, and tbe queer, pa thetic figure In the fine black tult, weakly climbing over the hills, became a familiar tight. . Then on night a terrible calamity befell, and the next morning It wat known all over the settlement that "Daddy John's new clo'es 'at come In the doctor woman's bar'l had been ttole." Horsemen riding to town drew rein and discussed tbe theft for hours. Ev ery other woman put on her tunbonnet and called on ber next neighbor, and then the two went together to see Dad dy John. So it happened that when tbe doctor arrived the found the bouse so full that two of the women rose tiid tat on tbe floor to offer ber a chair. There wat a curioua ttlllness In the house. One of the women whispered: "Hit's Just like a buryin', only thar ain't no corpse." Daddy John was sitting by the fire, huddled together, the picture of mis ery. "I've lost my new clo'es," be quaver ed. "I'm so sorry. Daddy John," said the doctor, taking his hard, bony hand. "I never bad no new clo'es afore," he croaked, plteously. A few frosty tears dropped on his grizzled cheek. Liz took np a corner of her apron and wiped her eyes. All the other women dipped snuff. 'They wuz sech fine clo'es !" mused the old man. 'The coat bed a silk lln ln. Doctor said It war silk. An' the purtlest buttons!" "An' them clo'et could a' ben fixed up fer Bud when dad got done with "em," said Liz. The old man paled with sudden pas sion. "I ain't er goln' ter git done with 'em!" he said. In a high voice. "Bud shan't hev 'em. Doctor woman give 'em ter me. I never bed no new clo'es afore. But I alu't got 'em now. They're stole." He broke down into tearless sobs, that shook the old chair. "Don't cry, Daddy!" all the women called In unison, and they shed a few perfunctory tears and passed the snuff box around. "You don't use terbacco In any form, do yer, doctor?" asked one. The doctor admitted that she did not, and they looked steadily at her, trying to realize the phenomenon. Weeks passed and Daddy still crooned over the lire In utter dejection. Old age, poverty and loneliness, unhappy trio, were his sole companions. It was now believed that the clothes would never be recovered. Out In the woods one frosty morning a heavy foot crushed into the dead leaves, and a big chestnut, falling, struck the owner of the foot on the nose. He raised his black face toward the treetops. "Hi! Dey's drappln' all de time now, an' deys a heap better'n co'n." He sat down In his tracks and filled his pockets and shirt-front, eating vo raciously the while. "Reckon I'd better be gwlne now," he said presently. Rising, he picked his way, like a cat, through the underbrush, climbing con stantly till he reached a spot where a huge Iwwlder cropped out and over hung the mountain side. Its crest com manded the whole valley, and Its shelv ing underside made a cozy shelter. Thick pines crowded up and concealed the entrance. The convict had been so sharply hunted that he had !een un able to escape from the neighborhood, and It was In the boldness of despera tion that he had chosen his retreat so near the State road that he could hear the voices of the country folk ns they passed to and from town. lie sat down to cogitate. "Ef I could git word to Rosy, or git to Rosy, I'd be all right; but, Lordy! I cau't do nary one on 'em." The train whizzed out from a cutting and whistled sharply as It tore aloug. The negro grlmied with pleasure. He was so much a savage that this nomad ic existence, though hunted and tortur ed by fear, was sweet to him. "Howdy, gemmen!" he chuckled, as, peering through the pine boughs, he recognized some of his fellow-convicts on the train. "Don't you wish you was rue? Plenty grub, heap o' new clo'es and no work to do, Ho, ho!" He rose and drew out a bundle, undid It, viewed Its contents with a series of laughing explosions, and then present ly doffed his striped suit and arrayed himself anew. "Mighty flue clo'es fer a fae'; cost a heap o' money." He softly patted his limbs, twisted his neck to get a glimpse of his back, and creased all his black face Into one big smile. A mirror would have made his rapture perfect. "Rosy won't know me In dese yere. She'll tek me fer a preacher Jest from eonfunee." He changed back to his striped suit and tied up his bundle. A sharp wind sprang up and drove before it Icy drops of rain. '(Jolly!" muttered the darky. "Ain't It cold ? I'll resk a fire arter dark." Down to the doctor's farm everylmdy was hurrying to get the crops under shelter. The Inst load had tjone In when Jule Fraley looked up at the sky, The clouds were rolling up like a cur tain, showing the far mountains a deep, Intense blue etched with an amber sky. "Durned ef It s going to storm, after all," said Jule. Suddenly be straightened himself. "Bud!" he called sharply. "Look yon on the mountain. Ain't thet smoke?" . Bud could see as far at an Indian. "Yes. Theft smoke." Ther ain't no house thar?" "Naw. ary house." Jule walked away briskly. Two hours later five men parted the umbrageous pines and tip-toed cautious ly toward a small opening under a great rock on the mountain tide. A whiff of warm air stole out to tbem. A great bed of coals glowed redly, and, with his feet to the fire, a negro in convict dress lay sound asleep. The men had their guns ready. One pointed his piece upward and a shot tore through the tree tops. Tbe negro was on his feet In an Instant. "We've got youT' said one. He looked from one to the other and his dark face grew a shade lighter. "I surrender, gemmen!" he said, calmly. Shortly after this event Daddy John reappeared in his new clothes. He wore them almost constantly for a few weeks, and then they were suddenly re tired from public observation, and Dad dy went about looking as If the scare crow in the cornfield had stepped down from his perch and toddled off to seek winter quarters. The c ctor was puz zled. When, at last, she questioned Jule Fraley, Jule shook his head mys teriously. I "I reckon I kin tell yer ef yer won't be put out about It." "Well, well! Do so!" : "I reckon," in a hushed voice, " 'at he's keepln' of 'em ter be buried in." New York Tribune. Astonishing Statements. A certain woman novelist writes in so amusing a fashion that the many blunders which mar her work are not discovered by the critical. In one of her novels will be found a horse win ning the Derby three years in succes sion; guardsmen sitting up all night drinking hard, smoking perfumed cig arettes, gambling for fabulous sums, and starting forth In the morning after breakfast of ortolans and green Char treuse, fresh as daisies and prepared to do deeds of prowess In the hunting field or at the covert side; and that great feat, too, performed by a man with a "tawny mustache aud Hanks like a greyhound," who, while snipe shooting, espies au eagle, " a dim speck in the ethereal vault." What cares ho that his cartridges only contain tiny tnipe shot? He bangs away with un erring aim, and "slowly the king of birds, with his glorious pinions out stretched, sinks at his feet a corpse." In another of her books a gentleman performs a similar feat, but this time, for the sake of variety, with a rltle bul let. An English novelist, In describing river side people says, "They go to church but three times in their lives when they are baptized, when they are married, and when they are burled." It is only people lu novels who go to be buried during their lives, Mr. Rider Haggard, in his "King Solomon's Mines," made au eclipse of the moon take place at the new moon Instead of at the full, when the earth is between the sun and the moon. Not Quite Correct. In telling a Joke, It Is well to under stand it thoroughly. A party of men were wont to amuse themselves at table tiy relating anecdotes, conun drums, etc. Mr. Archer was always greatly delighted at these Jokes, but he never related anything himself, aud being rallied on the matter, he deter mined that the next time he was called upon he would say something amusing. Accordingly, meeting one of the wait ers soon afterward, he asked him if he knew any good Jokes or conundrums. The waller Immediately relatiMi the following: "It Is my father's child, aud my mother's child, yet it Is not my sister or brother," telling him at the same time that It was himself. Mr. Archer Imre tills lu mind, and at the next meeting of his friends propound ed It. "It is my father's child, and my mother's child, yet It is not my sister or brother," throwing a triumphant glance around the table. "Then It must be yourself," said one of the company. "I've got you now," said he; "you are wrong this time; It Is the waiter." A shout of laughter Interrupted Archer, who perceiving the mess he had got into, acknowledged his error, and told the company that he would pay for the wine. It was his last effort. Working Their Way. During the past summer n number 0." Mudeuls who are working their way through the Philadelphia colleges ob tained employment as car conductors lu that city, and proved to be reliable and trustworthy. A railroad official says that they were thoroughly honest, Intelligent and polite, and as their de sire w:is to earn as much money during the summer ns possible, they were always willing to work extra hours and take out special cars. They lived eco nomically, and have probably saved something like ?K!0 each, which will go a good way toward paying their col lego expenses next winter. This Item speaks for Itself, and needs no com ment. Insects on Hawaii. Prof. Albert Koebele, of California, has made a three years' contract with the Hawaiian Government to destroy the Insect pests of tbe Islands. Ills method Is to get Insects harmless to man to kill noxious Insects. An Idle man Is never welcome unless he hat money to spend- WORN BY THE WOMEN 3 80Me OF THElrRY LATE8T ESS. . J ma Mo4ee tha Present so Appear aaca of Coolness The Grass Linen Gown a Joy to Both Wearer and Obaerver Jannty Coatnmea. 'Ift-toJ- -7- ' Early Bianer Sty lea. New York correspondence: UNE brings into use many devices of dress that pre sent an appear ance of coolness, and furnishes few days in which that appearance is not borne out by facts. July and August may prove that those same cool-looking accessories and s f u ff s are far from comfortable, but at present they are a Joy to both wearer and observer. To look at a woman In a dainty grass linen gown is to make up your mind, if you are a woman, that you must have such a dress; and it ought to make a man feel that he must have such a girl. It is no wonder that grass linen is popular. It will carry off all t'he elaborations of lace and rib bons that anyone could desire, or It may be made Into a pretty affectation of tailor styles after the manner of this first dress that the artist presents. Em ployed In this manner, It Is Jaunty for the street, and yet not so warm to look at or to wear as would a gown of such model be In almost any other stuff. Be sure to have the stuff shrunk If you want to get wear out of It. Be warned by the experience of the bride who had one of her prettiest dresses of grass linen made over a delicate mode colored silk, with a touch of brighter color at the panels, vest and collar. She decided to wear the gown for travel ingthey were taking Just a little trip but they were caught in the rain on their way to the hotel. Before they could get a carriage the bride was wet; the dress shrunk then and there till the seams began to give, and the skirt well, her ankles were pretty and her stockings silk, but she had to keep to her room till her trunks came. Then as she walked over the hotel piazza people said: "See what a pretty daugh ter that old gentleman has." Think of having that said to you on your wed ding trip! Crash Is Just about the same that Irish linen was last year, though it is more stylish to call It crash now, and Is also much used. It Is as durable as cloth, cool and very stylish and once made up the resemblance to dish towel ing Is lost. As this picture indicates, it Is styllRh to trim dresses of these wash, or, at least, cotton aud linen, materials with little buttons, and designers are till Indifferent at to whether tha but ton fasten anything or not Dotted linen trims tha gown shown, a trick that It often teen. fWthe IDEAS INID IX SILK FOR THE DRESS PARADE. MAPI TO LOOK COOt. BT APDIHO WHITE. A touch of crisp and spotless white) alwaya makes a dress seem cooler than It Is. A gown that Is unbearable may, be made a comfort to look at by tha addition of a crisp double tuft of fresh lace at 'the base of the collar and a fall of frosty lace from It to the waist. This device is employed In tha third gown presented to-day, which la mad fror- bluish gray cheviot, with a Teat of white mull and lace, and with but ton trimming and leather belt Wa COOL EFFECTS THAT MAT IWDUCt WARMTH. won't discard big sleeves when they are so comfortable.' One woman la re ported as experimenting with tha lin ing to her sleeves by having them all perforated. She says she has llttla breezes blowing about her shoulders all the time, no matter what her gown is, but her enthusiasm may color ber report of the matter. Much attention is being spent on get ting cool effects. There Is the white tulle ruff seen in the next Illustration, for Instance. It Is made of the crispest tulle, very full and frosty white, and the tulle edges are finished with a tiny gleaming satin line, which adds to the: frosty effect. Such a ruff is set on a narrow ribbon and when adjusted It comet away up about the ears. It then makes a woman look as if she had stuck ber head through a snow wreath, but while she looks so re frigerated It is very likely that rivers of perspiration are trickling down her back and throat. It Is the same way with gloves; spotless white ones look so cool and yet a kid glove Is uncom fortable In warm weather, no matter what Its color. On the gown, there are ruchlnga of tulle at the wrists and rosettes of the same at the bust line. Its fabric is silver gray bengaline, cuffs and points on bodice being white satin appllqued with black braid. Bandt of silver galloon edge the skirt's front breadth and the bodice points. The re sults attained by these odd points are MORE SIGHTLY THAN ECONOMICAL often produced by adding to a dress an accessory cape or top, and such addi tion frequently changes a gown's out lines or general scheme completely. Economy applauds this sort of thing, for while it is foolish to make a gown permanently cut according to some patchy fashion, to be able to give new character to it by a bit of collar or belt Is to render the wardrobe elastic. Pretty gowns were introduced this sea gowns have been turned out this sea son made with sleeveless zouave Jacket open over a white chlffon-over-sllk vest. The edges of the Jacket and skirt correspond at the waist, the vest be ing continued In a skirt panel. A cos tume of this sort appears In the last picture. As sketched It was of black brocaded satin, with vest and skirt panel of chiffon over white silk. A fluted ruffle of white appeared at tha neck, and hand embroidery thowed on skirt, cuffs and Jacket fronts. Copyright, ISM. Towels from Blotting Paper. The most curious use to which paper It to be put It that tuggetted by tha re cent patenting of a blotting paper towel. It Is a new style of bath towel, consisting of a full suit of bear blot tlpg paper. A person, upon ttepplaf out of bit morning tub, hat only tt array himself In one of these tultt, and In a second he will be at dry at a bona.