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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (May 31, 1901)
A GIFTED AND BEAUTIFUL GIRL Threatened With Nervous Prostration, PROMPTLY SAVED BY PE-RU-NA. |! MISS ROSE CULLEN, OF BUTTE, MONT. > Miss Rose Cullen, President Youn g Woman's Club, of Butte, Mont., writes from 921 Galena street, as fol lows: “Peruna has many friends In Butte, f cannot say too much In praise of it. While finishing school I became very nervous and exhausted from over-study. I was weak and sick, and could neither eat, sleep nor enjoy life. A couple of bottles of Peruna put new life in me. I find that having it in the house and taking a dose off and on keeps me in fine health. ••A large number of my friends place Peruna at the head of all medicines.”—Miss Rose Cullen. How l'orana Qaukiv * iirw» is<i<karho( tliu l»au« of V\ umuukimi. MRS. G. W. HEARD, Hempstead, Texas, writes: “We have moved recently, and I must have lifted something that was too heavy for me in straightening things up, for I had such a backache and could hardly stand on my feet at ell. Beside, I was so tired all the time. My face was spotted and 1 was very thin. I took one bottle of Pe runa and was soon real well. When I feel tired and all run down 1 take Peruna and feel all right before I fin ish one bottle. I know it is a won derful medicine, and both myself and husband praise Peruna. "There has been a great deal of sickness through this part of the coun try, but, thanks to Peruna, which we use freely, our own family has escaped with almost no sickness at all. “Could you but see our baby Ruby, (to whom we gave Peruna for bowel trouble), you would see from her ro bust looks that you need no better ad vertisement In this little town. She is so fat and rosy, is nearly five years old now’, and is a great believer in Pe runa.”—Mrs. G. W. Heard. Given Up to Die—All Doctor* Failed It Uroveil to bo Catarrh of Stomach and Wa* Cured by Peruna. W. A. Mitchell, dealer in general merchandise, of Martin, Ga., writes: “I wrote you some time ago con cerning my wife’s case. She had tried all of the best doctors, and we got to i where we thought all they did wr.9 against her. She weighed about 199 pounds when she was in good health. When she commenced with our family physician in April, 1898, she weighed about 130, but kept going down all tho time. She went to Atlanta, Ga., and took treatment, but it did her no good. Then she went to Harmony Grove, Ga., and took treatment from the best phy sician there for three months. She kept going down under his treatment, although he was considered the best physician in the county. She went down from 130 pounds to 68, and we saw she could not live long. She was a skeleton. We consulted an old phy- ! cician who told her to use Peruna. She gradually improved and got stronger. She has gained 38 pounds since she has taken Peruna. and is gaining ev ery day, and does her own housework. "She was well known when she was so low. and now everybody wants to know what cured her. She had indiges tion and catarrh of the stomach. It 13 ' as good for children as for grown peo- ! pie. We haven’t had to have a doetor for one of our children since 1898.”— W. A. Mitchell. If you do not derive prompt and sat isfactory results from tho use of Peru na, write at once to Dr. Hartman, giv ing a full statement of your case and he will be pleased to give you his val uable advice gratis. Address Dr. Hartman. President of | The Hartman Sanitarium, Columbus, 0. I WINCHESTER B “NEW RIVAL” FACTORY LOADED SHOTGUN SHELLS outshoot all other black powder shells, because they are made better and loaded by exact machinery with the standard brands of | ^ powder, shot and wadding. Try them and you will be convinced. ♦ REPUTABLE ♦ DEALERS ♦ KEEP » THEM L.DOUGLAS $3. & $3.50 SHOES made. K.il worthof U . I,. lloiiffliM uml *h«fs I* («>■>.*». My M €*il| I'-dgc Line cannot be equalled at any price. It s not alo^e the host at her that makes » first as* atm»* it is the brain*, t have planned the l»m style. last*a perfect model of th«* foot, ami the conutnietton of the shoe. tt »-* ham.-a! skill and knowledge that have made \V. I. liouglas shoes tl *• lest in the world f< ripen. Take no Miiiidltiite. Insist on havm_r \\ I.Im.iii ikhIuh^it.iI, nanw A and priceatainped on bottom. Your dealer should k»-. pthe-u, he ih«-s not, A Hud for catalog giviug lull luairnetiona how «.» order ».y mvi H. I.. IMM ULAk, IK rocLlun, Mam. ® WANTFI) *EN TO SELL CIGARS. • * HI1 I ft«M Liberal proposition. if you are out I of employment and want a profitable steady altua I tluu ana will devote your time to our buatnenn I write us H AVANA C'KiAK CUMI AM, Lie Sola Building, 81. Louis, Mo. IN 3 OR 4 YEARS AH INDEPENDENCE ASSURED I If you take up your (jrlRPnrT WWSTAI I home in Western Can I|UJe> r»I> | ada.tbe land of plenty. I Illustrated pamphlet's, KycS ’./tDry triving experience- of K'yrsj Mfanners who have lie. I 101110 wealthy in yrov. I Inn wlieut reports of Information us to reduced railway rates can tie had on application to the Superintendent of Immigration, Department of Interior. Ottawa. Canada, or to W V. Bennett, B01 New York Life Bldg.. Omaha. Neb. When Answering Advertisements Kindly Mention This Taper. W.N. U.—OMAHA No. 21 —1901 A Month in California. Here is an estimate of the cost of a trip to. and a month's stay in. Califor nia at the time of the Epworth league meeting in San Francisco, in July: Round-trip ticket .*45.00 Berth In tourist sleeper (both w ays) . ..Id 00 Meals en route . s.UO Four weeks’ board and lodging in San Francisco . 30.00 Sundries Kxrursinns, street cars, laundry, etc..15.00 „ *108.00 rhe figures are based on beginning the trip at Omaha, but they are ap proximately correct from other Bur lington Route Stations west of the Missouri river. If you wish to return by way of Portland. Seattle, Tacoma. Helena, or Butte and Billings, it will cost $‘J addi tional. Beautifully illustrated folder, giving full information about San Francisco and the best way to reach it, will be mailed on request. J. FRANCIS. General Passenger Agent. Omaha, Neb. Lots of men know how to cure hams, but are unable to pro-cure them. Ask your grocer for DEFIANCE STARCH, the only 16 oz. package for 10 cents. All other 10-rent rtarch con tains only 12 oz. Satisfaction guaran teed or money refunded. A hearty “round” of applause is what an actor considers "square” treatment. CHOOSING A CAPTAIN. B««gh and Tumble Custom of Japaneao Fishermen of Hawaii. Where several years ago the fishing for the supplying of the Honolulu market was done almost exclusively by the natives in their canoes and a few Chinamen, now the bulk of the work is done by the Japanese, who are at It in great numbers. The boats which they use are built here after patterns used in Japan, and ones >n a while an Oriental steamer arriving from the west brings an Imported fish ing boat, which the fishermen think is superior to those of local manufacture. The boats are of a peculiar shape and are of different sizes, some able to ac commodate but three men, which is an ordinary crew, and others are large enough for seven or eight men. Up to the time that the vessel is launched there is no captain selected for tho boat. The choosing of this important factor in every case is left until the boat is in the water. It is known who the members of tho crew are, and from them the captain is selected. When the boat is in the water and moored securely, the members of the crew, who are generally the owners of the boat, strip themselves and get into the boat. Then the fun of making the se lection of the commander begins. There is no voting or drawing of lots to settle the matter. At a given signal from one of the crowd on shore who are watching, the men in the boat be gin with all their might to try to throw each other out into the water. Each man is against the other, and so the struggle, as a usual thing, lasts a long time and is remarkably excit ing. All the time the play goes on the friends of the contestants yell words of cheer to the struggling men In the boat and throw buckets of water on them and into the boat, seemingly with the idea of making she battle ground more slippery as well as re freshing to the men at work. As soon as a man is thrown out of the boat he must stay out, but may assist with water if he so desires. The man who stays in the boat longest, or rather who is able to put all the others out of the boat, has by his prowess shown himself competent to be captain, an 1 so he Is greeted with much applause and showered with congratulations at the termination of the scuffle. There is no appeal from Hie selection so made, and the captain o chosen continues to be captain until he voluntarily retires or sells out his share in the boat.—Ex. EMPLOYES OF GOVERNMENT. About 8'JO,000,000 In Wages—No ‘‘Hard Tliiip-i** In Washington. According to the latest official list, there are 19,446 public functionaries of various kinds and degrees employed exclusively in the District of Colum bia in conducting the numerous de partments and bureaus of the federal government, says the Washington cor respondent of the New York Tribune. These are the civilian appointees in the executive departments, and do not include senators and representatives, and several hundred employes of the houses who vibrate between the capital and their homes in other parts of the country. Nor does this aggregate in < hide 350 or 400 army and navy offi cers. active and retired, who form a large permanent colony here. The monthly compensation of these 19.146 civilian employes amounts to $1,635, 708.81. Therefore, the aggregate sum in salaries annually paid out in Wash ington by the government disbursing clerks reaches tlie enormous total of $19,028,505.72. Besides, probably not less than $3,000,000 additional goes to senators and congressmen, and their highly paid subordinates, and perhaps $1,250,000 more to the army and navy officials, most of whom are of high rank, with large pay, there being con stantly here not less than sixty gen erals and admirals, active and retired. These totals formal grand aggregate of $23,878,505.72 annually paid out in Washington in the single item of sal arles. It is a vast, unvarying, constant stream of cash flowing from the gov ernment coffers into the hands of the hanks, business houses and profession al men of Washington, the official per sonnel of the United States acting merely as middlemen, because this money is largely spent or permanently invested here. In all the departments salaries are paid semi-monthly, and if desirable the officeholder can draw sums oftener, if the money is due to him, but this is dependent wholly on the courtesy of the disbursing clerks. It is not singular, then, that, there are never any hard times in Washington. How can there lie such a thing as hard times in this town iii such circum stances? Rxplolted u Penny Craze. A Ixnulon paper tells of the way in which a shopkeeper exploited the pre vailing craze for collecting pennies of this year's issue. In the window of ids shop lie displayed a notice: ‘ Five shillings given for 1901 pennies.” A passerby entered, offered him a 1901 penny and asked for the 5 shillings. ‘‘Oh, yes,” said the shopkeeper, "hut that Is only on'- penny. Where are the other 1.900?” An Old Coppnr Coin. Charles L. Feller, of Providence, lias lately acquired possession or a copper coin of the kind used as passports by runaway slaves coming north long be fore the war. The coin has "Liberty" In a laurel wreath on its face and on the reverse the kneeling figure of a slave woman and.the inscription, "Am I not a woman and a sister?” The man who finds himself down in a coal mine for the first time doe* some pretty deep thinking. me R emembered' Rt Grave. R3 L, 3V Mary E.Wilkens^ ^ | "I guess there won’t be a great show of flowers on Sylvester's grave this year,” said Sarah Cook. Her voice had a certain triumph in it, but it ended in a decorous sigh. ”1 guess there won't, either," re turned her sister Mrs. Kemp. ”1 guess Phebe Ann is too sick to think much about it.” Her voice sounded like Sarah’s. Lucy Kemp dropped her sewing for a minute and turned her face toward the window. “It seems 'most too had. don’t it?” she said, meditatively. "When she's done so much every year, and thought so much about it.” "I don’t know as I think it's too bad," said Mrs. Kemp. "Of course I'm sorry Phebe Ann is sick, but when it comes to these flowers she's always covered Sylvester’s grave with, Dec oration day, I guess the! a was a great deal of it for show. It would have seemed different if he had been in the war, but I’ve thought a good many times, when I’ve seen Sylvester's grave ■with more flowers on it than any of the soldier's, that Phebe Ann had a little eye to what folks would say, for all she felt so had." “There’s the band!” cried Lucy, It was a very warm day for the .sea son—almost as warm as midsummer. The windows were wide open. The two women and the girl leaned their heads out and listened. They could hear far-away music. Two little girls with their hands full of flowers ran past. "They’re just forming down at the town hall,” said Lucy. "Annie Dole and Lottie are just going." "They came over here for flowers this morning,” said her mother, "and I told ’em I hadn’t any to give. All I had was lilacs, besides that little early rose bush, and they’d got all the lilacs they wanted of their own, and there was only just three roses on that bush, and I could not bear to cut 'em. The procession ain't coming—the mu sic don’t sound a mite nearer. It won't be here for an hour yet.” "I don’t s'pose Phebe Ann's husband will lift his finger to help us, even if she should be taken away, and ho left without a chick nor child in the world," said Mrs. Kemp. Phebe Ann’s husband was her own dead husband’s brother, hut she never spoke of him by his own name. "I wonder how much Phebe Ann'.-: husband has got?" said Sarah Cook. “Well, I guess he’s laid by a little something. They must have, with no family! ” "Mebbe he will do something If It over happens that he ain't under any body else’s thumb.” “It won’t make any difference now. He’s laid under the thumb so long that he's all flattened out of the shr.pe he “I WONDER WHO PIT THOSE FLOWERS THERE?” was made in. He used to bow Kind of sideways behind Phebe Ann's back when I met him, but he don't do that now. I met him face to fane the other day, and he never looked at me. I don't know what poor Thomas would say if he was alive. 1 wonder what Lucy is picking lilacs for? Lucy!” "What say?” Lucy's sweet, thin voice called back. Her smooth, fair head was half hidden in a great clump of lilac bushes by the gate, She was bending the branches over and break ing off full purple clusters. “What you picking those lilacs for?" “I Just thought I'd pick a few." “What for? I ain't going to have ^,-iy in the house!They're too sweet— they're sicklsh!” “I ain’t going to bring them Into the house,” said Lucy. She let a branch fly back and went across the yard with a great bunch of lilacs iu her hands. “I wonder what she's up to?" said her mother. Lucy returned Just before the pro cession passed. The cemetery was a little way beyond the house. Her mother and aunt, and a neighbor who had come in stood at the windows listening eagerly to the approaching music. Lucy joined them. The pro cesison filed slowly past: The Grand Army men. the village band, the min isters and local dignitaries, and the rear-guard of children with flowers. An accompanying crowd thronged the sidewalks. "I ve just been saying to Sarah that I’hebe Ann won’t have Sylvester's grave decked out much this year," said Mrs. Kemp. Her voice was pleas anter and more guarded than before. “I heard Phebe Ann was pretty low,” said the neighbor. Phebe Ann’s husband went softly behind the nurse to the bedroom. Phebe Ann looked up at him and beck oned imperatively. He went close and bent over her. "What is it, Phebe Ann?” said he. “Is it—Decoration day?” she whis pered with difficulty, for she was growing very weak. “Yes. ’tis, Phebe Ann,” said her husband. “Have you got—any flowers for— Sylvester's grave?” “No. I ain’t. I ain’t thought of it, Phebe Ann, with your being so sick, and all.” ‘hGo—get some!" she panted. Her motioning band and her eager eyes spoke louder than her tongue. “Yes, I will, I will, Phebe Ann! Don't you fret another mite about it.” The nurse followed him out of the room. ”1 can’t go to the green-house!” he’ whispered agitatedly. "It's five miles away!” "Land, get any kind of flowers!” ; said the nurse. “Get dandelions and buttercups, if you can’t find anything else.” The old man took his hat down with a bewildered air and went slowly out of the yard. At the gate he paused and looked around. There were no flowers in the yard; there were several bushes, rose and phlox, but it was too early for them to blossom. Over at the left stretched a field, and that was waving with green and gold. Phebe Ann’s husband went over into the field and began pulling the buttercups in great handfulls. and the grass with them. He had all he could carry when he left the field and went sol emnly down the road. Sylvester's grave was at the farther side of the cemetery. The old man, with his load of buttercups and grass, made his way to it. The soldiers' graves were decorated with flags and flowers, but the people had gone. The cemetery was very still. When John Kemp reached Sylvester's grave, hs started and stared. There was a great bunch of lilacs on the grave and three charming, delicate pink roses in a vase. “1 wonder who put those flowers there! ” he muttered. He laid tho but tercups and grass down on the grave; ; then he stood still. It was over twen- : ty years since the boy Sylvester had been laid there—a little soldier who had fought only his own pain. “I wonder who put those flowers there!” John Kemp muttered again. He went out of the cemetery, but instead of turning down the road toward his own home, walked hesi tatingly the other way toward tho house of his sister-in-law—Thomas' wife, as he always spoke of her. Lucy’s face was at one open win dow, her Aunt Sarah Cook's at tho other. "Lucy!” called the old man, stand ing at the gate. Lucy came out to him tremblingly. Sarah Cook ran to tell her sister; she thought Phebe Ann must be dead. "Do you know who put those flow ers there?" asked the old man in a husky voice. "1 did," said Lucy Her face flushed. "I thought there wouldn't be anybody to see to it, now Aunt Phebe Ann is sick," she explained timidly. Her uncle looked wistfully at her. his eyes full of tears. "Sylvester was a dreadful sufferer,” he said. Lucy did not know what to say. She 1 looked up at him, and her soft face ! seemed to take on distressed lines like his. The old man turned abruptly and went away. “Phebe Ann is sinking,” he said, indistinctly, as he went. Lucy's mother and. her aunt rushed to the door to meet her. “Is Phebe Ann dead?” Sarah Cook called out. j “No, she ain’t dead." “What did he want to see you ror? asked Mrs. Kemp. Lucy hesitated; a shamefaced look came over her face. "What did ho want?” her mother asked, impera tively. “He wanted to know who put some flowers on—Sylvester’s grave.’ “Did you?" ' "Yes’m.” • ] “What did you put on?” “Some lilacs and—roses.” "You didn’t pick those roses?” “O, mother, the lilacs didn’t seem quite enough! Aunt Phebe Ann has always done so much!” Lucy said. Her mother and her aunt looked at each other. “I shouldn’t have thought you’d have picked those roses without saying anything about it,” said her mother, but her voice was embar rassed rather than hars'n. She went back to the kitchen and proceeded with her work of making biscuits for supper. The sewing was all finished. Lucy set the table. After supper they went out in the cemetery and strolled about looking at the flowers, in the soft, low light. "Who brought all that mess of buttercups and grass, I won der?” said Sarah Cook, as they stood over Sylvester’s grave. "I guess it must have been Phebe Ann’s husband—it looks just like a man,” Mrs. Kemp replied. Lucy got down on her knees and straightened the buttercups into a bouquet. “I wonder if she'll live the night out," said Sarah Cook, soberly. "I’ve listened to hear the bell toll every morning this week,” said Mrs. Kemp. "I don't believe she can live much longer. I'd go up there tonight if I thought she wanted me to.” The next morning Mrs. Kemp, list ening with her head thrust out of the window in the early sunlight, heard indeed the bell tolling for Phebe Ann. “She’s gone." she told Sarah Cook and Lucy; and Lucy cried. They all went to Phebe Ann’s funer al and followed her to the grave. Mr3. Kemp’s and Sarah Cook’s eyes wer j red when they came home. “There were a great many good things about Phebe Ann, after all,” Mrs. Kemp said. “I always said there was,” Sarah returned defiantly. The morning after the funeral John Kemp came to the door. Lucy an swered his knock. He looked old and dejected, but he tried to smile. "I want to see you a minute,” said he. “No, I can’t come in—not this morn- ^ ing. I’m coming before long. I hope things will be different from what they have been. It was her wish. 1 went home that day and told Phebe Ann how you'd put the flow’ers there, and she beckoned to me to come anil lean over. Then she made out to tell me. She wanted you to have Sylves ter's money that we put in the bank for him when he was born. It’s been growing. We haven't spent any, ex cepting for the (lowers, and its near five hundred dollars. She wanted me to give it to you right away, and you’re going to have it just as soon as I can get it out of the bank. Phebe Ann said you could have some more schooling and not have to work so hard. And I guess you’ll have more than that, too, some day, if you out live me. Phebe Ann, she thought mebbe I could make some arrange ments with your mother and aunt to come to our house and live, and take care of It. She said she didn’t want any other women in there. She knew they were good housekeepers and would keep things the way she did. You tell your mother I’m coming in to see her some time before long.” John Kemp went feebly down the walk, and Lucy returned to the kitch • DO YOU KNOW WHO PUT THOSE FOLOWERS THERE?" on. The door had been ajar, and her mother and Sarah Cook had bear! every word. They were both crying "Coming just now when we didn't know which way to turn!" sobbed Sarah Cook. "Poor Phebe Ann'" "Well, there's one thing about it" said Mrs. Kemp, brokenly "there shan't one Decoration day go br a* long as I live, without Sylvester's -4 grave being trimmed as handsome aa if his mother was alive!”—Youth's Companion. 3