The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917, June 26, 1903, Image 6

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

    Conquest.
Spring and winter mat one day
Near the huddled hills;
Scam his lucks as lichen! gray,
Spring's like daffodils.
They were known as open foes
Over all the earth;
Spring detested Ice and snows;
Winter, blooms and mirth.
X^ong his tense and tyrant clutch
Prisoned fen and Held;
Long the streams, to bar his touch,
Raised an Icy shield.
Spring, to break the^ fetters free,
Summoned all her charms—
All her wondrous witchery—
To take the king of storms! •
“May I pass, kind sir?" she said,
Beaming, blossom-wise.
Up at him with lips of t'<td.
Eyes of April skies.
Winter wavered, loath to go;
Smiled and stepped aside;
Bowed his head and bending low;
'•Certainly!" he cried,
—Sports Afield.
h Heard Both Sides H
The three gentlemen In the smoking
room of the Pullman on the Chicago
flyer were intimate business acquaint
ances. After wearing tho market and
kindred subjects threadbare they sat
hack silently and looked at one an
other. Each knew the habits of the
other so well that It required no word
on any one's part to explain that one
and all yearned for a fourth man to
make up a game of “draw.” The
broker made a move. He punched the
button by his side, and when a porter
appeared he took from hi3 case a
business card, wrote a few words in
pencil on the back of it and handed it
to the darky.
"Deliver that to the gentleman in
3 A, will you, Sammy? And wait to
see If there is an answer,” ho said.
So it happened that a few minutes
later, with the luxurious train bowling
smoothly over the road-bed, and only
fifty out of the nine hundred odd miles
between New York and Chicago cov
ered, a quiet game of poker was in
progress. The newcomer differed
slightly from the other three in that
his clothes were somewhat noticeable,
any his jewelry shiny, as if all pur
chased in a lump, and recently.. Yet
he was a corker at the game of draw.
None of the four observed that each
time the conductor passed through
the car he would gaze with a serious
air at this fourth man, whose profile
greeted him as he sat facing the en
gine. The steely blue eyes of the con
ductor would rest for several seconds
on the face of the stranger, as If busy
with reminiscence and then he would
continue his passage, seemingly puz '
zled.
A curious thing about poker is the |
almost uncanny facilities it affords for
estahli diing an intimacy. To an ox
port, the stranger who sits opi>osite 1
him playing his hand, taking up the j
cards, arranging them, betting, pulling
in the pot, is at the same time laying
bare cardinal features of hts mental
make-up, so that ten minutes' play
does more to create an environment
of friendship than hours of conversa
tion indulged in on a first meeting,
therefore it seemed perfectly natural
when the broker, after scanning the
stranger, allowed his glance to rest on
tLs latter's head. He looked at the
parting In a mass ot fine black hair. 1
j\t first glance there was nothing un- j
usual about It, but a few moments'
study showed that it wac wider than
seemed natural, and finally the ob
server discerned that the thin straight
line was as white as chalk, as smooth
as satin, and in reality was as straight
as a rule, whereon no nair grew. Ob
serving hts steady glance, the stranger
leaned back in his chair and re
marked:
"1 see, sir, that you are more ob
“Dance, you blankety-blank eon of
Satan,” yelled the bad man.
servant than the majority of man
kind.”
The broker hastened to murmur an
apology, but the other cut him short
with a good-natured laugh and a de
precatory wave o. his hand while he
•aid:
“That line of parting is really a
■car, as pernaps you have perceived,
it Is rarely that I relate the Incident
that resulted in my receiving It. yet
if you care to listen 1 will tell the
story."
The other three drew their chairs
up in an attitude of expectant inter
est. and after pausing a moment, as
if for reflection, the stranger went
on:
"It happened fifteen years ago.” he
said, "when I was ranching out West.
I went West because I drank myself
I could neither choke him nor secure
possession of the weapon.
nearly crazy at college, and, being
ashamed to go heme, I resolved to lose
myself on the plains, at least until 1
could return decently. I became a
cowboy. I learned to do many things
not considered essential In the East,
and the pure air and hard work, and
a minimum or whisky, soon set me up
again. But, try as I would, 1 could
never make boon companions of my
comrades, and they, realizing that I
was not of their class, did not take me
entirely intj their fellowship.
“Well, one evening Jake Bellair rode
to town on his broncho. He was
known as Bad’ Jake. The nows
spread, and every one kept his eyes
skinned for first sight of him. Sud
denly there was a whoop outside the
saloon where the boys were gathered,
drinking and playing, and Jake ap
peared in the noorway. In a trice 1
found myself standing alone beside
the bar. The bartender had disap
peared. and every cowboy had sunk
softly into a seat. Jake's eyes lighted
on me, and next Instant he stood in
front of me. and I looked down the
throat of a Colt 45.
“ ’Dance, you blankety-blank son of
Satan!’ yelled the bad man. ‘You
bloomin' Eastern pickpocket, or train
robber, or whatever you are, dance, or
I’ll fill you full of holes.’
“I never before had looked into the
menacing barrel of a revolver, and my
gaze remained glued to the little rond
blackened circle, from which death
might spurt at any moment. Although
1 never for an instant took my eyes
from the hole, I could feel the glance
of every one in the room fixed on us.
I did not want to dance. If I did. I
would be ridiculed, maybe forced to
leave town, or have fifty fights on my
hands in as many days. If I did
not
“The next instant I bounded like a
panther at the hail man. My left hand
closed about the pistol, my right hand
seized his throat, with no gentle grasp.
The action was so quick he hadn’t
I time to draw the trigger. I could feel
the baffled rage sizzle within him as
I wrenched the pistol barrel toward
the roof, being unable, though I ex
erted all my strength, to tear the
weapon entirely from his grasp. I was
an athlete and a bit of a boxer at col
lege, and I meditated suddenly releas
ing his throat and smashing him on
; the Jaw. But he read my thoughts,
and his left hand closed on my right
j wrist with a grasp of Iron. So, locked
; in that grip, we struggled, amid a hub
{ bub now, for every one in the room
was on his feet, exclaiming at the
audacity of ray action.
“I felt I was weakening. Little by
little the muzzle of the revolver de
scribed a downward arc, and we were
both covered with perspiration and
panting like prize fighters. Strain as
I would. 1 could neither choke- him
nor secure possession of the weapon.
And then, ns a dizzy feeling began to
creep over me, the shot came. At the
same instant 1 felt with the instinct
that serves a man in place of wits at
such a time that he had not hit me, al
though 1 could feel the biting powder
sink into my scalp and face. As 1
started back 1 wrenched the pistol
from Ills hand, and the next moment
had him covered before bis left hand
could drop to his hip, where another
gun was strapped.
“‘Hands tipi’ l cried. Jake threw
them up. 1 stepped up to him, un
loosened his belt, which dropped to
the floor, and then, regaining my form
er position, I exclaimed:
“ ‘l never saw you before, and I
never want to again. 1 will give yon
till midnight to shake this town. If I
ever set eyes on you again one of us
dies. Go!’
“He backed to the door, and we
could hear his horse’s hoofs strike
the clay in a gallop.
“Then I raised my hand to my head
and brought it back covered with
blood. The bullet, intended for my
brain, had run along my skull, tearing
a clean, straight furrow that healed
in a weak, but left this scar, which
will be there as long as I live.”
The other three gentlemen were
expressing their interest In the narra
tive, when once more the conductor
appeared. The narrator looked him
full in the face:
“Damned if it isn't O'Dell,” said the
official, heartily. “Say, 1 knew we'd
meet before, and it's worried me for
the last two hours to place you
straight. It's only this minute that I
saw that scar on your head, and then
I had you for sure. Why, it must be
ten years ago you got that. Do you
remember? You were braking in the
Olean yards, and when Tench decided
for a flying switch one night you went
in to cut loose the ‘box.’ And you
missed your hold and went down. We
thought you were a dead one sure,
and you escaped with that rip on your
head. Well, how are you, anyway.
Given up the road long ago, 1 sup
pose?”—New York Press.
NOT A SHREWD CUSTOMER.
Man Thought He Was Beating the Bar,
but Lost His Own Money.
When a man drinks alone it is 15
cents straight in most respectable
groggeries. The other day a genius
stepped jauntily into a Pine street
posada and ordered “two whiskies.’’
The natural supposition of the bar
1 lan was that a friend was expected,
therefore he set out two empty
glasses, two glassfuls of water from
the tub and a bottle of something, then
bit off a check for 25 cents, cast it
upon the bar and remarked: “Please
pay the cashier.’’ The customer
poured an ounce of liquor into each
empty glass and passed back the bot
tle. After swallowing one drink he
ate a cracker, then gulped down the
other, paid his quarter and w'ent out.
“W'ise guy,” said vhe barman, im
pressed. “Fool guy/’ said the owner.
“He paid a quarter *>r two ounces of
whisky in two glasses."—New York
Press.
There Is No Unbelief.
There is no unbelief!
Whoever plants a seed beneath the sod
And waits to see it push away the clod.
Trusts he In God.
There Is no unbelief!
Whoever says, when clouds are in the
sky.
Be patient, heart, light breaketh by and
by.
Trusts the most High.
There is no unbelief!
Whoever sees ’neath winter's fields of
snow
The silent harvests of the future grow,
God's power must know.
There Is no unbelief!
Whoever lies down on his couch to sleep.
Content to lock each sense in slumber
deep,
Knows God will keep.
There is no unbelief!
Whoever says to-morrow, the unknown,
The future, trusts that power alone
Nor dares disown.
There is no unbelief!
The heart that looks on when dear eye
lids close
And dares to live when life has only
woes.
God's comfort knows.
There Is no unbelief!
For thus by day and night unconsciously
The heart lives by that faith ths Ups
deny,
God knoweth why.
His Task Too Hard.
The Austrian treasury was in a de
plorable condition when the war with
France broke out in 1859, and when
Baron Bruck, who had charge of
the national finances at the time, was
called up to respond to the toast,
“May God defend the army," the min
ister replied that, his “fervent pray
er was that God would, for he himself
would not be able to do so much
longer." The baron found his task
even more difficult, evidently, than
he expected, for he took his own life
before the war was over.
It Would Seem So.
Wife—“I was surprised to learn
that Mr. Oldsmith had taken unto
himself a wife after three score years
of single blessedness."
Husband—“Well, the old adage is
still working. A man never gets too
old to learn.”
First Recognition.
Ernie—“Oh, my father has just dis
covered that you are a poet."
Suitor (sadly!—“Well, that is more
than any of the editors have done."
The Range of Hearing.
The range of hearing in adulta
under flfty-nve years of age is approxi
mately 16,000 to 48,000 vibrations a
second.
rows
Tim
f jtgAXJir* rut tsrja or
1 rj/ksjffjrr
-»4-V OtX>
WjfAjgX
jejfwmtJLMrjrV awT
So many American whalers are go
ing to seek the big "fish” In the Baf
fin Bay waters this season that the
Canadian government has decided to
charter a sealing steamer to cruise
there to prevent the Yankee from "vio
lating Canadian custom laws.” It
looks as if the “prostrated American
industry" were about to awaken to
something akin to vigor.
Years of more or less desultory
whaling have given the sea giants a
chance to recuperate, and that they
were not guilty of race suicide during
their time of rest is proved by the fact
that whales are plentiful in all the
seas again.
For a rich American, eager to try
real sport, there is a great chance now.
Whaling, one of the oldest forms of
big game hunting known, is the one
field which has not been fittingly ex
ploited by the amateur sportsman. In
a time when lion and tiger shooting
are mere routine sporting affairs to
hundreds of wealthy men, the whale
should appeal with great force.
Few landsmen ever have the oppor
tunity to participate in the sport.
When a whaleboat lowers to fight a
sixty-foot whale the business is too
important to incumber the craft with
unskilled passengers. And not many
landsmen would really care to go into
the whaleboat even if they could when
they behold, wallowing in the sea. the
huge thing that is to be attacked.
The ride begins after the whale has
been harpconed and when the boat
header considers it time to draw up
alongside and begin lancing. The
first thing that is done is to haul in
upon the harpoon line until the boat is
brought as close to the running whale
as is consistent with the extremely
delicate margin that the whaler al
lows for safety. “Safety” to the whaler
really means to remain just about an
inch cr two beyond the reach of the
\ast flukes with which the big beast
is beating the sea.
Having hauled as far up on the
whale as possible, the boatheader
* x>xcx ax
-4Jr clzjo -wjcizXJZ.
reaches over the bows and lifts the
line out of the chocks. Swiftly he
brtngs It around outside of the boat
and passes it to the bow oarsman, who
ha3 faced around on his thwart so that
he looks forward.
He at once lays back on the line and
holds fast with all his might. And
immediately the boat, dragged like a
railroad car by that mighty living lo
comotive, begins to run parallel with
the side of the whale and just a few
feet away from him, being prevented
from running right on top of him by
me oblique strain of the line.
Now, if the harpoon is well forward
in the whale, the boat hangs in a pre
carious but sufficiently arc of safety,
for the swinging tail hammers the
ocean behind it and the wildly sweep
Ing jaw unavailingly searches the sea
in front.
The boatheader braces himself In
the bows until he is based firmly as
the stempost, and begins to poise his
long, green, razor-edged killing lance,
waiting for his opportunity to thrust
it into the whale’s ‘'life.” Sometimes
the opportunity comes within a minute
after hauling up on the big ‘‘fish.”
Sometimes it doea not come until the
boat has been towed for many miles.
It does not require much time to tow
a mile when a sixty-foot whale is do
ing the towing.
As long as the whale runs In a fair
ly straight course the boat will hang
to him like a terrier. He may champ
and bite and hammer the ocean into
acres of froth with head and flukes
and tail, and never shake it off. His
only chance for retaliation is to run
deep or to “mill.” “Milling” is the
act of turning suddenly, and so bring
ing the boat within reach of flukes or
jaws.
The position of the bow oarsman is
not joy. The chauffeur in a racing
automobile is in a paradise of ease and
relaxation compared with him.
He must keep the boat in position
by his unaided strength. From the
time he gets the line until the ride
is ended he drives into a smothering
sheet of flying spray. When the sea
is high every billow is hit by the boat
with a smash that wrenches his arms.
The strain on the wet line cuts and
burns his hands. And if he lets a
foot of it slip he is disgraced. Once
he is in it he is in it for good, with
no chance of help or relief till the
wild adventure is done.
Often the boat is hauled so close
on a harpooned whale that the har
pooner leans over on the butt of the
harpoon that is sticking in the great
sea mammal, while with the other he
drives the killing lance. Again and
again the long weapon is buried deep
in the black sides, until suddenly thick
black-red clots of blood well from the
wound, showing that the "life' has
been reached.
Then it is “back,” sometimes for
dear life. A whale may take his
death so quietly, so passively, that it
is pitiable to see so mighty a swimmer
killed thus easily by man. Or he
may fight till the boat seems only a
black atom in the sudden uproar that
smites the ocean and sends tons of
water rising till they seem high
enough to wash the sky.
The danger from a fighting whale is
not only in the whale himself. The
boat is a perfect man trap of keen,
deadly tools. Lances and harpoons,
cutting spades, hatchets, knives, and
boat hooks, all sharpened to the finest
edge the ship’s grindstone can give
them, fill the boat. If the whale gets
at it and hurls it into the air the
men find themselves in murderous
company when the weapons come rain
ing down on them.
So there are enough sporting
chances in the whale to excite and
content the most exacting of sports
men. And the size of the trophy if
he “bags” a whale certainly leaves
nothing to be desired.
BIBLE, WRITTEN BY HAND. A WORK OF ART
HZ
,&>tomS*A *
>;*uCo£-«<
|
^F J- fil kv*J‘k*Ml/mJjAAxX£.
I 4lufu**u cf A** *nouM i-fnr
I ,ttu- /out/*3 Xi*U*A &0U
I •f'tfcjflow)omimiMte
15
i(<K<l|«jowmMti) <itnt
MaAmuMtCtmlmtmXrfiOHU*
i k&t/AAvpmo
k «ut, **Xt 'Gfu/
ykvfAaXkAtom^X+tt/tmJtoJU* (AtmAue:
fyfoff P[ |ftf f| s fjldklfl/ jn tfiir jm»_t\f%fT
I
1 "5 »^V/Wcu4( LmX lOtMxh' C y.
^eutOaC»r«( *o /((u/'tfrMtt of XiSav, aa -JJU/
e**taMiO of/OeComorv
t wj 4*p4w«MX/ iu&MtoJ >Uu^
ittavAb MwA***skaXts/ioelAii AAf**» **u/i . wj
*nolAM6«>(>k£iutv'MiM(/,awa^ w»f& w<, ^/ui.
'modi'»*t/ itx/ hufiuv a^Xko^j^iMMitylj^ m.i<>£
7 tiMx»vmAov*.m*uj»JilowH^oJttu
Uotv^tiA<^ ffwjExA-fo. iMt
ai4MMv:&4oAH«Aou&)46a4 ot* vtal A*^*utL
omA/L^MM/J^aoka of 4Auccm4tontcHdT
«.
Like the monks of the middle ages,
Mr. R. 13. Johnston of Glasgow, Scot
land, has written the Bible by hand
and beautifully illumined it. His was
a herculean task, in this day of rapid
achievement and expeditious pro
cesses. Mr. Johnston worked seven
years over his Bible manuscript and
not long ago put the finishing touches
upon the unique book.
One striking thing about the produc
tion is that the letter text does not
vary from Genesis to Revelation. The
work is done on post quarto paper,
and looks like the production of some
medieval ecclesiastic. The artistic ar
rangement, the spacing and the align
ment of the text are due, in a large
measure, to the fact that Mr. John
ston is a practical printer.
“In my work of rewriting the Scrip
tures,” said Mr. Johnston, “I discov
ered two typographical errors. These,
you know, are very rare, and are re
garded as statutory offenses, for which
a penalty may be imposed.”
The hand print made use of by Mr.
Johnston has commended itself to a
firm of London printers, who have
prepared types from it, paying him a
large sum for the original design. It
is Mr. Johnston's idea to have his
hand written Bible issued to the public
in parts by the process of photo-litho
graphy.
Suffer From Cold in Fire.
It is strar.se to think that the ac
tors in the inferno scenes in “Dante,”
which Sir Henry Irving has produced
in London, suffer principally from cold.
The fire is a wonderful Illusion, and
the method by which it is produced
makes the stage of Drury I.ane thoa
ter very drafty. Many of the actors
caught cold during the rehearsals, and
the sufferers on the stage have been
heard to sneeze in their fiery graves.
Prizes for Best-Kept Lawns.
Mayor Hiram M. Summers of Otta
wa,- O., has published a notice offer
ing a number of prizes to the persons
who will maintain the best-kept gar
dens and lawns in the town this sum
mer. Already a number of citizens
have registered their names as con
testants. A committee will tour the
city three times and from the result
of their observation tha prizes will be
awarded.
Naval Band a Poor One.
Rear Admiral Rodgers, new com
mandant of the Brooklyn navy yard,
is not at all pleased with the band
that has been sent him from Wash
ington. The leader and all the mem
bers are Italians and none of them
knows a word of English. Exasperat
ing errors are made during the
marching exercises of the marines,
while the playing at all times Is very
bad. The pay In the hand service of
the navy is so lov/ that American mu
sicians will not enlist, so most of the
recruiting is done at European sta
tions.
China a Riddle to Europe.
Pierre Loti does not believe that
there will ever be a real understand
ing between Europe and China. In
his last volume, which describes his
experiences during the late war, his
refrain is ‘China will nlways remain
a riddle to us.”
How Wives Make Business.
It was in a decorator’s shop, and
one of the employes was reporting to
the proprietor. ‘‘I advised Mr. Cooke
to have the whole house decorated
during his wife s absence in Canada,
as a surprise," he said. "So we've
got the job.” "Good!” cried the pro
prietor, enthusiastically. “Then we’ll
have to do it all over again when she
conies back. Say, you deserve a hol
iday for working that so well!”
Pastor’s Long Record.
Retiring after a pastorate of fifty
one years In the Reformed churches
at Farmersville and Arndts, Pa., Rev.
Daniel T. Brendle, aged 81 years, will
have an annual pension of $300 and all
the marriage and baptismal fees that
come his way. He has never worn
spectacles, has baptised 2,794 con
verts, married 727 couples, or 1,454
persons, burled 1,221 parishioners and
preached 4,791 sermons.