The Sioux County journal. (Harrison, Nebraska) 1888-1899, July 07, 1898, Image 3

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    TEN LITTLE FINGERS.
Tan little flngrrs toying with a mlnf
bang! went lbs powder, aud tliea lber srera
ult.
Etna little lingers filing iwkets straight
pi a kick backward, and then there wera
eight
Eight little ll:igera pointing of) to heaven
IUra:aa candle "busted." and then there
were seven.
eeo little angers, punk and powder mil
Punk was Ignited, and then there were ail.
li little Angers for a "slizer" strive
One went off with It, and then there wera
Bve.
Fire llttla fingers loading for a roar
Boom) went tbe cannon, and then there
were four.
Tour little fingers with a park made free
Crash! went a cracker, and then there were
three.
Three little fingers foand the fue burned
blue
Bombshell too previous, and then there
wera two.
Two little fingers having lota of fun
Plato) exploded, aud then was one.
One little finger, fooling with a gun
Didn't know 'twas loaded, and then there
was none.
WHEN CUBA IS FREE.
O.VT tomb it, Tom:"
it would make a
I thundering report!"
"Never mind that
loading that gun was
one of the lust things
father did before be
left home."
"I know that," nod
ded Tom Wilson, look
ing pretty sober and
solemn, "but it would
snake a thundering report!"
"You've imiil tiiat twite."
"And I'd love to bear tbe old musket
Just onre!"
"Maybe you will."
"To-morrow the Fourth T'
"Who knows' Says father, when he
rammed the hint wad home in the old rev
olutionary relic-, 'We'll tire that off when
Cuba iH free!' "
"Site's jtist as good as that, isn't she?"
enallengod Tom.
"Never you mind we're going to mind
father."
Ned Wilson's word went, for he was the
oldest, and there was no further demur.
-a
A FAMILIAR D1KI 1.1 Tng OLAKINO
' DKADI.IXKH.
Besides that, duty engrossed the two
boys the rest of that day.
Other fellows had nothing more arduous
to do than prepare for "the biggest Fourth
since the Centennial."
The Wilson lnd, however, were "help
log mother," and, mere novices at labor,
they had not learned tbe roes yet.
Things hail gone from bad to worse with
honest Joha Wilson for several years
bark.
He had a glorious civil war record be
hind him was one of the gnllimt Cum
berland's erew, that fated ship that went
(own lu a blaze of patriotic glory that
set Are to a nation's hopea and ardor.
A long apell of illness had caused his
getting behind in bis payments on the oeat
cottage home.
"Tell you what. Nance," he had said to
his wife along In the early days of May,
"I've an idea."
"Toll it, John." encouraged his wife.
"I'm going to see my ie-brothr,
Tracy."
"Down East?"
"Down East."
"Why not writer
"I've done that and it did no good. No,
I'll risk the powers of persuasion. Ho
has thousands. But for a slip of the pen
bt would bare been comelled to share
them with me, and he knowa it, I'll try
and get bim to take up the mortgage here,
and ease us along till we can get the boys
on their feet, earning and helping."
"And If he refuses, John?" suggested
Mrs. Wilson snxiously.
"Why, then I suppose I'm sort of
stranded."
"All your money gone, and away from
home!"
"Well, msyt work is readier thert than
here. Never fear, Nance, I'll find a place
somewhere."
airs. Wilson gave ber bnsband a quick
look.
There had come Into his eye a certain
stern, yet proud, sparkle ahe used to see,
when, fresh from the war, be was wont to
tell how he turned the tide of a naval but
tle off the Carolinas by "pulling the gun
siring just at the right minute."
She said nothing, however. She heard
otblng more from him after bia depart
re until about tbe first of June.
Then bo scut the merest line: "I aUB
looking for work In New York City."
Mrs. Wilson was uneasy. Wars an!
rumors of ware bad set John rest) for
Months before his departure.
Ills lost word had been "Cub." Th
solicitous wife trembled, prayed, waited.
Meantime, like deserving scions of a
maa with heart of oak, her two soda
Ne4 aad Tom, "pitched In."
They found tbe larder growing alias, tod
aetf irsrt ,iropU it, . . ,
-.-'-CJ''
y id
They ran errands, sold garden truck,
peddled papers, and this Inner was no
mean field of commercial venture during
the prevailing v.ur excitement in the vil
lage. "Better have a quiet Fourth of July,
boys," suggested their mother gently, the
duy before.
"All right," nodded thoughtful Ned
cheerfully. "With father away, I su
pose it's best."
"Yes'tn," uasented Tom vaguely, "but
what a thundering report that old musket
would make!"
Ned attended to the morning papers that
arrived from the city.
Torn took in the "extras" that came in
through the day.
The former was eating supper with his
mother, the lutter absorbed in reflections
of the absent, almost the missing one,
now.
Uuddcnly there was a terrific hullaba
loo, comprised of shouts, firecrackers,
hurrahing.
Ned ran to the window.
"For mercy's sake!" he ejaculated.
"What Is it, NedV" rather stnrtled, and
tremulously (intuited Sirs. Wilsou, aris
ing more slowly,
"It's Tom!"
"He Isn't hurt, or "
"Acts lis if he was crazy!"
Tom did. In full view, he was coming
down the dunty mad.
Trooping after him were a dozen or
more vociferous youngsters with whom
be had ever been a favorite.
They were making the welkin rins. am'
many a lad was burning his fingers in hit
ardor to help swell the commotion, and
was using up the prized ammunition of
the morrow.
Tom burst into the room, drenched with
perspiration, pnnling for breath, but with
eyes allnnie with emotion and vitality.
"See here!" challenged Ned.
"Nolook there!"
Tom Hung his bundle of extras npon the
table.
Ilia mother nearly fainted. Even a cas
ual glani-e showed at the top of the glar
ing 'headlines a name familiar.
"John Wilson." "hero" "daring deed."
oh, It was news from the absent one,
but was It news of glory, but also of
death?
"Father!" she choked.
"Is all right!" piped Tom. "Head here.
Ned -read here! Father was 'looking for
work' say, mother! he found it!"
"Where? Where?" faltered the suspense-rocked
wife and mother.
"Battleship you know what a boss
gunner he is! Met the enemy, pulled an
other 'gun string in another nick of time'
and "
Coherent consideration of the news tbe
paper gave proved that Tom had uol ex
aggerated. Skill and opportunity had combined to
give John Wilson a chance to "knock out"
a Hpnnish Ironclad "at tbe right minute."
He had concededly turned the tide of
favor leading up to. the capture of a rich
ly freighted consort.
" 'Prize money' why, he can pay off
tbe mortgage!" cried the exuberant Ned.
"Promotion it will glorify his later
days!" murmured Mrs. Wilson thankfully.
"Where's the gun?" demanded irrepres
sible Tom.
UNCLE SAM'S FOURTH
t - - i .
"Hold on! What gun''" interfered Ned
"Father's oiti musket."
"Why "
"We're going to celebrate!"
"No he left orders 'fire it off when
Cuba is free!' "
"Free!" fairly yelled the sanguine and
excited Tom. "With such men as hire
peppering the foe, she's practically free
already!"
"Well. I supisise " began Ned, In
faint demur.
Above all other rejiorts that boomed In
the morning of July Fourth, 1MJ8, that
tired by proud, patriotic Tom Wilson
eeeuied to bim the loudest ever was.
"Wonder if they beard that in Cuba?"
be gloated.
"They're hearing some other report!
from its owner. I reckon." smiled Ned.
"Say!" declared the ardent Tom, "didn't
it make a thundering report?"
The C; -M ii1 Old Fashioned Way.
Get ready, boy, to make a noise
On Jnilepentlciiee day.
For we're about to have It out
la fraud old fashloued way.
At dawn we'll raise our flag ablaze
And wate-h It proudly fly.
Its blue and st;irs and crimson bara
Keflected on the kky.
Then while bells clang and anvils bang
Aud cannon thunder roar
We'il gle the cheer that slaves msy hear
Cpou the old world's shore.
We'll yell and screech and make a speech
About our glorious nation
And lirng that we on laud or sea
Can wallop all creation.
Fourth of July I'oem.
A pistol toy
iave much joy,
To small boy
Hang! He'll no more fire
Went up higher,
And the choir
Hang.
iouis Globe-Democrat.
-St.
Old Glory.
To the true lovers of our country tho
American flag is the most beautiful em
blem of a nation's glory chat floats to the
hrcezo. To its defenders in the past it
nnsrss more than mere glory, as it sym
bolizes a union of States and hearts, pur
chased by IJockI and treasure freely given,
for the country's welfare. Its coiitnrpla
Hon brings to our memory the scenes of
t-rife on law) and -a, where Old (ilory
was ever in Uie van.
OP JULY INCUBUS.
aw
I T "it!" 7
I AS called It. Try as I would, I
I could find no patron suiut In Hie
WAS called "It." Try as I would,
I could find do patron suiut In the
calendar who answered to that
Dame, and there was really no excuse
for "It" but the negligence of the Jolni
soii family to clirinten lis children.
They bestirred themselves curly only
In the case of my elder sister, who was
named Maggie. Even I. the youngest
of a batch of five never knew the second
child, a boy, by any other until" than
Brother." Then came "Sis," the third.
and "Babe," Another boy, and finally I,
Ibe last of the Johnson brood. "It"
rang lu my lialiy ears long heron I
knew what was meant. 1 t-uppose that
being the real baby It would have
caused confusion lu (he household,
where there was already a "Habe,"
and so they substituted "It," for that
was my title by right of succession.
I never knew- my mother. She died
soon after I opened my blue eyes to the
world. I'erhaps if site had lived my
nomenclature would not have been so
slightingly treated. Maggie, tin; eldest,
a quiet, faithful girl, took charge of us
at mother's death. Father was a team
ster and away all day from the little
family, for whom be provided gener
ously out of his splendor earnings. He,
too, called me "It" when he took nie In
bis lp and rubbed bis harsh, stubble
beard over my baby cheeks or pinched
my lime fists with his big, horny fin
gers. Maggie gave tne a mother's rare,
as she did the other children, and I had
really no trouble about my Incomplete
name until I went to school for the
first time.
"Your name Is what?" asked tbe
teacher, when my tutu came in a long
line, slretcbing from the foot of her
desk lo the last bench In the room.
"'It' Johnson," I answered promptly.
"!t' Johnson?" she repealed, with a
doubling shake of the bead. "Little
girl, you must bave forgotten your
name."
"No," I gasped, for a lump in my
throat almost choked me. To be the
Brat lu the whole room who bad auy
dltllculty about her name was mortify
ing wen to a little 0-year-old.
"Have you any brothers or sisters In
this school?"
"Yes, my big brother la In No. 3."
"Go upstairs and bring bim down to
me."
I -trundled off, perplexed, to find
"Brjiner." Up to the top floor I
climbed and soon espied him in a front
eat of Room No. 3, the door of which
stood wide open. He answered the
summons of my vigorously beckoning
finger and I confided to him tbe di
lemma I was In about my name.
"Well, 'It,' " he said, "you are In a
bad tlx. You never bad auy other
name."
"Hut Isn't your name 'Brother' and
nothing else?"
"No, I've been christened James be
sides.' ".aineB?" I queried. "1 thought that
was father's name?"
"And it's my name, too James John
sou." Then for the first time I learned that
"Brother's" name was James, that
"Sis" had been christened Cordelia, and
that "Babe, the Infringer," was An
drew In the baptismal record. Only
poor, little, slighted me was "It" and
nothing more.
"Brother" made matters clear to the
teacher, and she laughingly Inscribed
the name of "It" Johnson upon the big
roll book of the school.
I passed through my school days as
"It." Then, tired of book learning, I
went to work in a shoe factory.
"Brother" was a temster now, like
father. "SIb" waa married and lived
In the country. "Babe" bad run away
to enlist In tbe army, and there was no
body home but father and Maggie and
tin" for James was boarding In au
other part of tho city, where most of
bis hauling had to be done.
I hadn't been In the factory long
when the old phrase "you're It" was
revived on tbe vaudeville stage, and,
of course, tbe young men about tbe
place teased me by applying It to me,
"VOUn NAUR IS WHAT 1 '
TICACHKH.
AftKKD TUB
real "It," and "It" from her birth to
ber sixteenth year.
"You're It," tbey shouted as they
came up with me In the street "You're
It!" snld their mischievous eyes as I
entered the shop and passed tbe fore
man to go to my table. The foreman
was strict and permitted po noisy con
duct Inside the factory, fie was a seri
ous looking man, with a young face
but the mien of on beyond bis years.
He called each girl by name as he par
celed out tbe work and told ber what
U to "MoUtol BMlaal Gertie!
fa
Becky! Amite! lou: 'heaiil wuen
my tu.ru came.
"Her name Is 'It,' " said a saucy miss
who ftood done ly.
The foreman shot a forbidden glance
at ber, then looked rather pityingly
upon me, "You," he replied, ("measure
these ramps and make sure that they
all tally with the sample." And "you"
I remained to Joe Parkinson, the fore
man, for weeks months.
The factory hands all called me "It."
I was "It" at home to father aud Mag
gie. But, somehow, there was nothing
galling In it any more so long as Mr.
Parkinson refrained from using the
family slight.
I bud always been a frail young
thing, though not ill, ami the foreman
gave me the lightest tasks. Otherwise
he showed me no favoritism. I paid
my tine when late, the same as the rest,
and if 1 made a blunder I paid for the
damage. Withal, I felt sure that Mr.
l'arkiuson liked me the best of all, and
my little heart, craving affection and
only too ready to give It, went out to
him In the first flush of awakening
womanhood.
lie must bave read it in my eyes, for
his glances grew warm when he spoke
to me, and big hands often lingered
around mine as be placed the work In
my outstretched arms. The girls at my
table were all friendly but one. Some
bow a silent antagonism bad sprung
up from tbe first between Koslna Freoll
and me. Kosina was of Italian descent,
a buxon, crimson-cheeked girl, with a
voluptuous- figure, and a well-poised,
vain little bead. She was of a quarrel
some and jealous disposition, feared
by the girls and relentlessly pursued
by the young men with admiring
glances, impudent Innuendoes In com
pliment to her beatify and invitations
to all the parties in the cheap dancing
halls of the town. To all of these
Rosina went, and often more than once
a week she was fined for being tardy
the morning after. She stood ber pun
ishment with a saucy smile, for she
kuew her beau of the evening would
make good her financial loss.
Aware of Mr. Parkinson's hobby for
promptness, I bad been invariably on
AS HIS PI.ACKO THR WORK 1JT MY OUT
STRKTCIIBU ARMS.
time. One night Maggie was taken 111.
I nursed her till daybreak. Then I fell
Into a sound sleep at tbe foot of the
bed, and was awakened only by my
sister's anxious cry that It was long
past rising time. I hurried away with
out a morsel of breakfast and reached
the factory Just three minutes late.
Mr. Parkinson stood at the desk, noting
my time.
"My sister was 111 all night," I stam
mered, blushing to tbe roots of my hair.
He must have road in my eyes the
penitence expressed for having crossed
him in his efforts to promote prompt
ness. "All right, little girl," he said, with
a kindly glance from his handsome
brown eyes. "Vll forgive you this
time!"
As I turned to go to my place I saw
Rosina at my elbow. She bad heard
the foreman's remark. An evil expres
sion spread over her darkly beautiful
countenance. All day she pursued me
with her Jealous), grudging eyes. At
noon she held a confab with three of
her stanchest admirers and their sneer
ing faces, bent upon me, boded me no
good.
"You'd better go home early," ad
vised Becky, my particular chum.
"Tell him that your slBter Is too sick
to get supper, aud hurry 'away from
here before closing time. They mean
mischief, sure!" I dared not offend a
second time by losing a quarter of an
hour at the busiest season of the year,
so I stayed until the gong announced
the close of the day. Becky and I were
not more than half a block from tbe
shop when Koslna nnd her noisy escorts
came toward us from tbe middle of tbe
street.
"There goes 'It!' Joe Parkinson'! It'.'
I'll pay de fine! There It goes!" And
the rudest of the quartet picked up a
handful of mud nnd plastered my back
with It. I turned to run back to the
factory, when out of the darkness tbe
arm of a man shot squarely Into my
assailant's face.
"The foreman knocked him down!"
whispered the excited Becky. "I'm
glad of It!" And we took to our heels
and made good time In getting home.
Ah I crept Into my bed that night tbe
sweet thought that be had defended me
kept me awake many hours. When I
slipped Into dreamland at last It .was
with his face bending over me, bis lips
whispering that he loved me, me poor,
nameless, Inslgnlflcanl "If
.et inorni.'ig l tiu..ioii to uie lai
tory long before the opening hour to
thtstiU bim for bis gallant defense. To
my uter dismay a strutiger was at hi
desk. I gave bim my number anil
passed ou. Soon tbe other girls arrived
in groups of two ami three. Their facets
wre gravt) aud they seemed to discus
with subdued voices a calamity.
"What bus happened?" I gasped,
filled with anxious forebodings.
"Mr. Parkinson's been arrested," said
Becky. The blow he dealt the scape
grace who Insulted me was more ef
fective than be bad meant. The fellow
was lying unconscious at his home. It
was even feared that his Injuries would
result in death-. His two companion
had sworn out a warrant against the
foreman. Neither they nor Rosina
made their appearance at tbe shop that
day.
Even now I cannot bear to dwell on
the miserable days that followed. Joe
Parkinson languished in prison, while
the victim of his gallantry slowly re
covered. I went to him with a break
ing heart. He stretched out his hands
through tbe bars and drew me towardx
him until be kissed my forehead. I was
a woman at last, and my cup of love
and suffering was full.
"I can bear it all, little one," he said,
manfully. , "Jt was all for you!"
He was acquitted at the trial. On
the day of his release we were quietly
TUB FOftEMAX KNOCKED HIM DOWsI.
married, and that nlgbt he left me to
go to tbe far West and commence life
again.
It did not take him long to get a
start, and I soon joined him In the cozy
little home be bad prepared for me.
"You!" be cried, as in the days of old.
Only now he clasped me In his anus
and kissed me. "Little wife!" he add
ed. "Dear little wife!"
And it was "It" no longer.
WHO ARE " DE QUALITY?'
Social l:itinctiona of the Old Regime
Still Held by tbe Free-born Negro.
Lilian Bell gives this characteristic
dialogue IsHweeTi two colored women
in the opening chapter of "Yessum," a
vivid story of Southern life appearing
In the Woman's Home Companion:
"On Saturday afternoon the 'wasli'
of the Northern delegates to the Bap
tist convention was being bonw
through the streets of Memphis on the
heads of two blak, pendulous colored
worn oik
" 'What you pwlne do, Sist' Richldy,
if dem Northern ladles gibs you flbj
'bout scorchin' dat skirt ?'
" T ain't skeered 'bout what detn
Nortliern ladies gwine say to me' bout
nuthln', Sist' Golden,' retorted tbe oth
er. 'Don't you know dey say dat col
ored folks is Jes as good as white folks
Is, an' dat up Norf if a colored lady got
a slii dTess she gits invited to de white
folks' pahtles Jes' like tie quality?'
" 'Git out w1d you, Sist' Richldy. I
aln' no slch softy as to b'lieve yo' fool
talk.'
" "Tadn't no fool talk, Sist' Golden.
Hit's de Gawd's trufe. 'Cordim' to dat
de ladies won't dare say nuthln' to me
'bout dat scorched skirt, 'case it would
be lake delr sassln' one auurr. An' If
dey did talk sassy to me,' she added,
emboldened by the other's evident ad
miraitlon, 'I'd Jes' up an' sass 'em back.
Deed I would. If dey t'ink I'm as good
as dey is, I Jes' gwlnesbow 'em dat 1 Is.'
" 'For de lau's sake, Slut' Richldy, I
never did see you so uppity befo'. But
I reckon you wouldn't dare talk bo If
It wa ole M1s Beauchamp's ruffled pet
ticoat you done burnt.'
" 'Ijawd, Sist' Golden, I reckon not,'
cried the woman. 'Mis Beauchamp 1
de qtmlHy, one of de sho' 'nuff hlgh
stepplm' ladles. I don't reckon de time
will ever come when we'll hyer huh
a-clalmln' dat niggers Is huh equals.
She hoi's dat haid up n high an she
ever done when de Beauchamp owned
de whole place. An' when she come
In town she llffs huh dress an' pick
huh way lake she Jes' 'splse to touch de
dirt wMrh dem 1111 foots of huhs. She
got a look to huh eyes, ole a she ht,
much a to say "you niggers, Btep roun'
hyer. You may be an good as tie North
ern ladles, but as for me, you has been
my slaves, an' in mln' you I still." "
Vegetarian Cats.
At the vegetarian Jubilee In London
recently some remarkable exhibit
were made. One was a vegetarian cat,
a sleek and handsome pussy, who, hav
ing been brought up In a vegetarian
family, had not only learned to love
vegetable food, but had forgotten the
feline taste for mouse flesh. Mice of
the plumpest and most tempting ap
pearance could run across the floor
with perfect Impunity In the presence
of this vegetarian Uibby. She Just
winked sleepily at them and gave
eonteinplHou curl of her ant l-carnlvor-ous
tall. A new race of cat Is thu
brought Into sight the reformed felln
who will hot ent meat nor kill mloc.
But the new vegetarian breed, of cat
will never become popular with the la
dles, j
There are tricks In all trade with
the exception of tbe on you are en
gaged in
It 1 easier to lot the hair grow long
than It I to writ a good poem.