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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (June 29, 1900)
The Duke of Devonshire a Conser vative Conservative Premier Salisbury ha3 become Inex pressibly bored with his high office., writes a London correspondent. He has had everything he wanted in life except peace, and he yearns for tha*. He would like to potter about with the chemical apparatus In his big la boratory at Hatfield House, and would rather experiment with liqucfleatlon of hydrogen than control the destinies of Europe. The only question now Is whether he can persuade himself to go on through the weary round with tba next general election, which may come In a few weeks, or may be put off till next spring It Is thought not unlike ly that he may retire the moment the end of the Boer war is in sight. And who comeg after him? The question Is of commercial and political import ance to the United States, and would l>e highly Interesting even if it were not Important. I have been asking the question of several members of parliament, and, better yet, of press gallery veterans, and the answer al most Invariably got around, after some twisting and turning, the Duke of Devonshire, not because lie was any one's warm personal choice, but be cause there was no one else on the Conservative side who would make so little trouble In party politics or In national affairs. Even if Lord Salis bury remains in office till the next election, the answer remains the same, for unless the war department involves the government in some new disaster, D is believed generally that the Con servatives will be kept in power, al though with a smaller majority. The marquis became Duke of Devon shire on the death of his father, the seventh duke, in 1891. He is now 67, plalnncgg Is the keynote of his life, and the most simply furnished cham ber in each of his houses Is his. To this quietness of life his phenomenal health is probably due. He never was a personally attractive man; his face Is heavy, his frame lacks grace and he has no taste In dress. One of his those who work and s»t the gold. Murders, robberies and other crimes of violence are of almost nightly oc currences. When darkness falU it is the signal to stay at home, and except on nights when society functions and entertainments draw the people out in crowds it Is not often tliat any one at o o’clock Judge Baker asked Walsh | to witndraw the plea, inasumuch as all the pleas arising from the work of the recent grand Jury should go to Judge Hutchinson on arraignments. Walsh firmly deel!n»d. "Well, why did you kill Gilchrist?" asked the Judge. “During the Spanlsh-Amerloen war I enlisted In the Second regiment of Louisiana at New Orleans,” Walsh replied. "Soon after I hail several fights with other soldiers and I dis covered that a conspiracy was on foot to make me suffer something worse than death. Gilchrist was In It. When I came back to Chicago I saw him make a sign which convinced me that he was one of the men in the consplr DIKE OS' DEVONSHIRE. DUCHESS OE DEVONSHIRE. is seen alone in the streets. The fear of violence is ever present and the people talk about the latest crime as something of interest, but In no way surprising. ASKS TO BE HANGED. I.. K. WmWIi IM.hcH Cutlty, I>ul HU Han Ity I* <J||«*hI ftoiltMi. "I plead guilty and I want to be hanged," announced Lawrence E. Walsh when lie was arraigned before Judge Baker yesterday, charged with the murder of Robert W. Gilchrist, says the Chicago Chronicle. ‘ Do you understand fully what you are about?" asked the judge in surprise. "Are you CHATSWORTH, HOME OF THE DU ICE OF DEVONSHIRE. v vvw w greatest characteristics is a faculty of arriving just after the hour set for the opening of parliament, a cabinet meeting, function or what not, and the caustic-Mr. Chamberlain once raised a laugh by referring to his grace as the ' late leader.” Ills "got up” is usually that of the country squire. In the house of lords he sits with his hat tilted over his eyebrows, his body buried in a long, dark colored coat with deep pockets, and one leg thrown over the other, revealing a stretch of drab stocking, invariably on the point of coming down. His hair and beard have grown wholly gray, fnlike I^ord Salisbury, who never tises a note, the duke, on rising, drags a roll of manuscript from an inside pocket, adjusts his eyeglasses, and. standing in a loose attitude, drones out his speech. Many parliamentarians make an effective use of the pocket handkerchief; the Duke of Devonshire grips his tightly under his hands. Tricks of oratory, the coining of happy phrases, are beyond him, and what meager success he has had in speech making has come from ills common s-n*e and candor. In Dik'd the duke matried a woman who was already a duchess the widow of the Duke of Mam heater The mar riage h.is of the most private nature, • s the duchess' son. the late Duke of Manchester, died in the satn- week. Th« bride and h«r husband had been firm friends for over thirty yeir* and it was even said that th«-v had been engaged before the mart tags to Mau hester. but this ha* been denied with posit ivrnesa. Ituaatn • It li *«ImI !••«« Kiaanotar*k la not all a* good a* It It,oka It I* one of th* moat notorious c< liters «>f criuis In all dlherla am! vi*» leave la so coinuiou that it U hardly It bleed b» the townspeople oo til" |‘hll olelphU I’reaa lltiwt* of viHet t tlminals from Kuropean Hussii hit* , H Itsl. tbUled o lit legion bum d.gtely surrounding th* city for to a tv. years past T»* gold mim In the ytetalty bate helped *»* ati * t a law teen visas, aid only to wwfh in th# mine* as is usually t« some m' iu Vh# tier hut to progt by t aware that under your plea of guilty the court can send you to the peniten tiary for not less than fourteen years, or for life, or may Inflict the death penalty?" "Yes, 1 know all that. This is a capital case and 1 want capital punishment inflicted,' said the prison er quickly. "I atn guilty and 1 enter that plea. I killed that man and therefore I am guilty.” "Take him back to Jail," said Judge Raker. The case will be put on the call for trial soon. Walsh is believed to be mentally unbalanced. March 21 he shot and killed Robert W. Gilchrist, a barber at 1761 West Twenty-second street, with out cause or provocation, it is said. Just before the adjournment of court acy. Then I decided to kill him." Judgd Maker decided to let the plea of the prisoner rest for a few days. It is likely the court will enter a plea of not guilty and that Walsh will be tried as to his sanity. He was once conflncd in the detention hospital. WHITMAN HELPING! CHILDS. I nlijiie employment Given to the Toot by the Editor. The poet Walt Whitman was, as Is well known, dependent during most of ills life upon the kindness of his friends and admirers for a support. A few years before his death one of these friends called upon him in his little house in Camden, a suburban town of Philadelphia. “Well, Walt,” he said, “how goes It this winter? Any sub scriptions needed for Christmas?” "No,” said Whitman; “no, I'm at work now. I'm in the employ of George Childs. He pays me $50 a month.” “You at work! May I ask what Is your occupation?" “Why, I ride in the street cars. I fall into talk with the drivers and conductors and find out which of them have no overcoats and guess at their size and notify Childs and then he sends the overcoats. It's not hard work,” said the poet, thoughtfully. “And then, you know, it helps Childs along.” Juitlct. While M. Constans, the artists, was spending a day with President Lou bet at Rambouiliet he was asked by his host upon what subject he was now engaged. "M. le President,” said the other, “I am painting a big can vas symbolizing justice.” “Indeed, and how do you conceive her?” Whereat the painter began to describe his ideal in glowing words, speaking from the heart as only an artist can when delivering his soul to a sym pathetic listener. But the president quietly Interrupted him with a twinkle in his eye. “Is that how you con ceive justice?" he said. “Parfait! And now would you like to know what she really is. in point of fact, and in actual life?” He rummaged in his pocket and produced a coin, which he spun in the air. “Head or tail!” he said. “That is justice!” About ’‘Milking Throe Time*.” There is no truth whatever in the belief that any one falling into the sea necessarily rises and sinks three times before drowning. DOGS AS POLICEMEN. All the world knows of the noble work of llie dogs of St. Bernard, and everybody has lipard of the German military scheme to use dogs to succor the wounded on the battlefield. But the town of Ghent In Belgium, has In troduced a distinct novelty In the use of dogs by muklng policemen out of hem. There are fifteen Belgian col lies on the police force of that town, the long haired, the short and the rough-hatred ones, and one I’ieardy dog besides. The dogs are trained i Hist to obey policemen In uniform only, and afterwards are Introduced to i the residents. They are taught to I swim and to gra»p obje.Ma In the wa- J »•» »• m«* {HHijtta flow drown ill* and lo l»4ii high ahtutflM Tit* Air tSc* of th-* >1 >4 nmr* Iwf ■» ii lu utUk at and An N iM m ua morning. The animals are held in leash by policemen until all the resi dents are abed, when they are let loose, and, each having Its particular » iOti«K wo>* ftr roc CXX.1 xnlx Ox DUT.1 *40*1, p.tlrttU tho •tr««U nnlM>i«Mly M vlflUntly TM do* • l»u«« tuliai MI »h«! If it It MI4« k«d ll utMl 'i* l». itii* Ul'9«l DRIVEN MAD BY FORESTS. In ilaa V * -I* ,\r* S.TiiJge One of the woodmen had told me of a waterfall on a trout stream of con slderable size which emptied Into n lake nearby us, and In the hope of finding a subject on it, I took the boat one afternoon and began to follow the course of the stream up from the mouth. After a half mile of clear and navigable water It became so clogged with fallen trees that more lifting than paddling was required, and as Its course was extremely tortuous 1 oc casionally got out and examined the vicinity of the stream bed and the course above If perchance there might be better navigation beyond. On one of the digressions 1 suddenly came on the stream running back on its pre vious course and parallel to it In stantly, in the twinkling of an eye, the entire landscape seemed to have changed its bearings; the sun, which was clear in the sky, it being about 3 o'clock, shone to me out of the north, and It was Impossible to convince my self that my senses deceived me or ac cept the fact that the sun must be In the southwest, the general direction from which the stream was flowing, and that to get home again, 1 must turn my back to it If 1 had lost my boat, as seemed certain. Then began to come over me. like an evil spell, the bewilderment and the panic which accompanied It and which, fortunately, I recognized from the experiences I knew of, and 1 was aware that If 1 gave way to It 1 was a lost man beyond any iliiding by the woodsmen even If they attempted to track me. Fresh wolf tracks were plenty all along the bank of that stream, panthers and hears abounded In that section and the wilderness beyond me was never explored and hardly penetrable, so dense was the undergrowth of dwarfed firs and swamp cedars. 1 had one terrible moment of clear consciousness that If I went astray at that Juncture no human being would ever know where 1 was and the absolute necessity of recovering my sense of the points of the compass was clear to me. By a strong effort of the will I repressed the growing panic, sat down on a log and covered my face with my hands and waited—1 had no Idea how long— but until I felt quite calm, and when I looked out on the landscape again I found the sun in his proper place and the landscape as I had known it. I walked bark to my boat without diffi culty and wpnt home and I never lost my head again while 1 frequented the wilderness.—Atlantic Monthly. WHAT RAN ACROSS FLOOR. A ToililUr’. Joke Makes the lather Ini teil. A Lake View father hart impressed his little son with the value of observ ing things and reporting anything that seemed strange and interesting Though not more than 5 years old. he had already taken his father's advice, although his reported discoveries of a halo around the moon and the manner in which the hens scratched up the early vegetables were more enthus iastic than valuable. The other day he came running In to his father in great excitement and said: "Oh. papa 1 Just seed something run across the kitchen floor!” "Hats!" exclaimed his father In amusement. "No, it wasn't wats.” "Cats?” "No, it wasn't cats either.” "A dog—a bowwow?” "No," he continued, In great glee at puzzling his father. "You?” "No.” ‘Brother Tommy?” "No.” "Little sister?" "No. It was something that hasn't any legs.” "A worm?” "No.” "A snake?” "No, it wasn't a snake.” By this time the boy had excited his fa ther's curosity, but exhausted his knowledge. So he had to say: “What was it? I can't guess.” "Why, papa, It was Just some water."—Chicago Chronicle. Man and Ktlrd In Collision. A dove winging its flight ovei the tracks of the Southern Hallway near Juliet, in Georgia, collided with a pas senger train going in the opposite di rection at a high rate of speed. The bird's body plunged through the glass window of the cab. Its beak, sharp as a needle point, pierced the right eye of Engineer Charles Wallace, and the surgeon say It destroyed the engineer's sight temporarily, and possibly per manently. The dove was killed by the sudden contact with the cab window Its quivering body fell on the Iron floor of the cub, after striking the en gineer. an<l was picked up by the fire man. So great was the momentum of the train and the dove's body that the glass window was not smashed by the blow of the collision. The hole through which the bird was hurled was dean rut. like that made by a bullet fired through gluafl. KaUrr'a Muutuclie < url. Emperor Wllliani has had lo aban d<m that peculiar cm I of the mustache which has helped to make the kaiser famous because Haby, the Imperial bather, ami the only man that knew how tu do It. h»» been dismissed for impudence and for trading on the royal favor he enjoyed JotinirM Momlitl Him! I tn.1i.4 Ou »<• omit of h- gr*M| h»\it of th«* middle of the day in Egypt a eatavan Journeys in the early morning and In the eviith* During the heat of the noon hours the tent* are pitchel and men and beauts get through it a > best they 1 an !•••» %liVH «|W|ll 'tHtHUIl Uov. t hail** II Allen of Hurts It. > possesses among His other uuslir a t ions for that pi a -e a thorough gnus l edge of ;<jkittt*h »ht b Ss is « lid la it tk like a ait re KNOW HOW TO DIE. I A WRITER S TRIBUTE TO THE BOERS And a Cir^phlr P#n rirtura of Pathctlo Iurl«lent« on iho — Kem*rk nbl0 DfTotlon to One Another—De scription of a Fight. The pathos and awful tragedy of the war in South Africa are admirably painted by a British writer, who at one time was a prisoner among the Boers. I was only a prisoner in their hands for about a month, he says, yet every moment of that time was so fraught with Interest that I fancy l picked up more of the real nature of the Boers than I Hhould hnve done under ordinary circumstances In n couple of years. I was moved from laager to laager along their fighting line; saw them at work with their rifles; saw them come in from more than one tough skirmish, bringing their dead ami wounded with them; saw them when they had triumphed and saw them when they had been whipped; saw them going to their farms to be welcomed by wife and children; saw them leaving home with a wife's sobs In their ears and child ren’s loving kls«es on their Ups. I saw some of these old gray heads shattered by our shells, dying grimly, with knitted blows Hnd fiercely clenched Jaws; saw some of their beardless boys sobbing their souls out as the life blood dyed the African heath. I saw some passing over the border line which divides life and death, with a ring of stern-browed comrades around them, leaning upon their rifles, while a brother or a father knelt and pressed the baud of him whose feet were on the verv thresh hold of the land beyond the shallows 1 saw others smiling up Into the faces of women—the poor, pain-drawn faces of the dying looking less haggard and worn than the anguish-stricken feat ures of their womanhood who knelt to comfort them In that last awful hour —In the hour which divides time from eternity, the sunlight of lusty life from the shadows of unsearchable death. Those things I have seen, and In the ears of ICnglish men and wo men let me say, as one who knows and fain would speak the plain, un gllded truth concerning friend or foe, that not alone beneath the British flag are heroes found. Not alone at the breasts of British matrons ace brave men suckied: for. as my soul llveth. whether their cause be Just or unjust, whether the right or the wrong of this war be with them—whether the blood of the hundreds that have fallen since the first rifle spoke defiance shall speak for or against them at the day of judgment— they at least know how to die; and when a man has given his life for the cause he believes in he Is proven worthy even of his worst en emy's respect. And it seems to me that the British nation, with its long roll of heroic deeds, wrought the world over, from Africa to Iceland, can well afford to honor the splendid bravery and self-sacrifice of these rude, untutored tillers of the soil. I have seen them die. Once as I lay a prisoner In a rocky ravine, all through the hot afternoon, I heard the rifles snapping like hounds around a cornered beast. 1 watched the Boers as tiiey moved from cover to rover, one here, one there, a little farther on a couple In a place of vantage, again In a natural fortress a group of eight; so they were placed as far as my eye could reach. The British force I could not see at all. They were out on the veldt, and the kopjes hid them from me; but I could bear the regu lar roar and ripple of their disciplined volleys, and in course of time, by watching the action of the Boers, I could anticipate the sound. They watched our officers, and when the signal to Are was given they dropped behind cover with such speed and certainty that seldom a man was hit. Then, when the readen hail had ceased to fall upon the rocks, they sprang out again and gave our fel lows lead for lead. After a while our gunners seemed to locate them, and the shells came through the air snarling savagely, as leopards snarl before they spring, and the flying schrapnel reached many of the Boers, wounding, maiming or killing them; yet they held their positions with in domitable pluck, those who were not hit leaping out. regardless of personal danger, to pick up those who were wounded. They were a strange, mot ley looking crowd, dressed In all kinds of common farming apparel. Just such a crowd as one Is apt to see In a far Inland shearing shed In Australia, hut no man with a man's heart in his body could help admtriug their devotion to one another or their loyalty to the cause for which they were risking their lives. One night I saw which will atuy with me while memory lasts. They had placed me under a wagon, be neath a mass of overhanging rocks for safety, amt there they brought two I wounded men One was u man of 8t>, I a hard old veteran with a complexion as dark as a New Zealand Maori, The heard that framed his rugged face wm three fourths gray; his hands were a rough and knottel by open air toil as the hoofs of a working steer. It* | looked what he was i li ter of mixed i Dutch and I'rcn ii lineage latter on I : got Into Conversation with hm ,»nd | he told me a go-id deal of hin life III - f.«lh< W i-> de, "I. ted fi >ni «*l. the old Dutch families who ha I me ■rated to Hooth Africa in »ear» h of I religious liberty In the <>t i «ta» - wb*n i the countt > was a wit terness Ilia ' mother had come tn an unbroken lip. from na of the it-dale f no lie o I'-am all i ft»d ft tr U‘ io la th days of the terrlb1» persecution of tha Huguenots, He himself had been many things—hunter, trader, farmer and fighting man He hal fought against the natives and he had fought against our people. The younger man was his son, a tall, fair fellow, scarce ly more than a strippling. and l had no need to be a prophet to tell that his very hours were numbered. Both men had been wounded by one of our shells, and it was pitiful to watch them as they lay side by aide, the elder holding the hand of the younger in a loving clasp, while with hla other hand he stroked the boyish face with gestures that were infinitely pathetic. Just as the stars were coming ouf that night between the clouds that floated over us the Boer boy sobbed his young life out, and all through the long watches of that mournful darkness the father lay with his dear laddie's hand in his. The pain of his own wounds must have been dread ful, but I heard no moan of anguish front his lips. When at the dawning they came to take the dead boy from the living man the stern old warrior simply pressed his grizzled lips to the cold face, and then turned his gray heard to the hard earth and made no further sign. I HEAT CREAKS THERMOMETER. Arizona lla» Siiinnirr Wratlirr That 4'Hmm! Hr Itrrnrilrtl. The cottonwoods have shed their caterpillars, there has been a thunder storm, mesqultc wood lias fallen la price, Indians are selling bows and arrows, the rose and the oleander have long been out, oranges are in bloom, the umbrella tree Is putting out Its leaves, last summer's suit has been cleaned and pressed, the small boy has gone swimming In the canal, the wise man stays up nights and steals irrigation water from his neighbors, alfalfa Is almost ready to cut, atrawherries have been shipped, mulberries are nearly ripe, summer will soon be here and the Phoenix summer bedroom will soon be nec essary. Phoenix sleeps out of doors in the summer anil the bedroom is born out of that necessity. It la on stilts, is built of wire screen of fine mesh, for the Phoenix mosquito is microscopic in size it Is furnished according to the taste of the occu pant, with interior curtains to keep out the morning sun, the gaze of the curious and the sand storm. The bed is a cot of canvas or woven wire, cov ered, perhaps, with a sheet, but even a sheet feels like a featherbed on a Phoenix summer night. The bed cov ering Is the roof of the bedroom, and careless folks who consult their com fort only don't wear nightshirts. Phoenix la proud of its climate dur ing eight months of the year, but it doesn’t talk much In public about Its midsummer. It is a right warm day when the government weather bureau doesn’t know what the sun tempera ture is and is unable to determine it, and that Is how hot it gets in Phoe nix. I called on Observer Burns ono day last July and asked him what the “official" temperature was in the sun. Me said he did not know and that the government couldn't afford to experi ment to that end. He said he had at tempted to catch the sun temperature during the summer of 1898 and had broken a $9 thermometer in the at tempt. To please my curiosity he hung a thermometer in the sun, watched it until it registered 130 de grees, and then took it in, fearing it would break. The dryness of the at mosphere relieves this great heat of any terrors to all living things except women and cats. -Phoenix Graphic. HrKourifn of Culture. A distinguished lecturer once told a story of an engagement he had made to deliver a discourse in cito of the interior towns, on the subject of “The Beacon Lights of Civilization." “I reached the place," he said, “a little behind time, and went directly to the hall. A large audience had assembled. I was Introduced in due form by the president of the literary society un der whose auspices I was to appear, and laying my manuscript on the desk before me I opened it and waited a moment for the appaluso to subside. Imagine my horror when 1 found I had accidentally brought along the wrong lecture—one on the ‘Wonders of Modern Klectrical Science'!" “What did you do?" asked one of the group to whom lie was narrating the inci dent. "I went right ahead," he re plied. “The audience didn't know 'iie difference."- Youths' Companion. TIm* Only !MIT«*r •»!»«•••. “Did you ever my dressmaker, lohn?" waked the wife, leading up to the unpleasant subject of that person's bill. "She's so awfully small: tli • most pitite little thing I ever-" "Come! Out with it'" exclaimed the gnat brute. What are you driving at?" "Well er I was going to remark on the similarity between the size of her bill sml her own —" "My dear madam," he Interrupted "the difference between her and hei bill is only s question of pronun is lion She l» not a lull modiste an I her hill Is not at all mod »t " Catholic | Standard sml Time. Itiirittdit't l'Mt»i r »if r. .lodge tlriibh of llelitware, hat t high opinion of evSenator \ I* tlor man's power t>f silence We i# been I »|w ndiiig a *uaamc; a* friends for a I dozen year, at the .atm* hotel, h • ! recently sai l to tiorman “and I it I told you everything there it to tell I about no>«It where*, you never t«»hl [ pie a thing William Hr van is fond of htdi and has a good sited * aer* i! i tiv nut he ii • little foj 4,4 1 an# rt.elj » sap ture gz. I
