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.