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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 13, 1903)
t DUTY. She wore her duty as a crown. And in her passing up and down, One came who laugh*il to see her wear Such trifle with so grand an air. * She took it off. “One cannot be A laughing stock for such as he.” Behold! her feet once swift to go. Move now reluctantly and slow. She walks a prisoner, looking down At that which binds her limbs in pain. Who wears not duty as a crown. Must drag it as a chain. —Good Housekeeping. MUSCULAR CHRISTIANITY I ——"I Ily JOHN SMITH TASSIN. ______ Copyrighted, 1903, by The Authors Publishing Company I I “Brethren,” began the preacher, when all had been assembled, “I feel like Jacob did after he had wrestled all night with an angel for a sight of the Almighty.” “Amen!” bawled the blacksmith at the head of the congregation, and liis eyes roved ceaselessly as if in quest of someone. “Only my fight has been with the powers of darkness; and 1 bear about me the stains of the soot, and the scars of the fire and the brimstone of that terrible place.” “Amen!” bellowed the lusty fellow In a louder voice, and his eyes con | tinued their fruitless search. K “Brethren, let us pray and thank t the Lord for the victory He hath granted over Satan in this benighted spot.” And the blacksmith prayed with all the fervor of a convert on the mourn ers’ bench. His voice was like the echo of thunder in the mountains, peal redoubll* / upon peal, and crash after crash deflected from the many hills, until the little building fairly shook ^ with its reverberations. Meanwhile he craned his neck and almost stood up in vain endeavor to single out somebody. “Guess yo're lookin’ fo’ de docto’, ain't yo’?” gibed an irreverent youth behind him. The man glared at him hut did not answer. Doctor Ben was there. He chuckled despite the sanctity of the place, and there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and a sly smile about the cor ners of his mouth. His face was as a mask, behind which all manner of droll thought held high carnival. Bill Jenkins caught sight of him, where upon the doctor made the sage reflec tion that It would be best for him to have his horse shod by another black smith for some time to come. At this his face fell, for the prospect was not Inviting, Bill Jenkins being acknowl edged the best horseshoer within miles of the neighborhood. »■ The doctor’s irresistible longing for little fun was responsible for the blacksmith’s discomfiture. This is the way it came about: "No preacher-man ain’t agoin’ t’ preach in dis ’ere town; no, siree, not ef I knows m’self.” The group about the anvil stood stock still, and burly Bill Jenkins straightened himself to his full height. The “help” paused with the horse’s g^hoof still in the lap of his leathern W apron. If Standing with folded arms and with his back to the table, on which were his artisan’s tools, was a figure so quizzically queer that it was sure to set you laughipg. It was Doctor Ben; short and thin, with red hair, red beard, and red spots on his face which b some would call freckles. He was L stoop-shouldered and hollow-chested, $“No preacher-man ain't agoin’ to preach in dis 'ere town.’’ | , pnd had a cast of countenance so com leal that you could think of him only a king's jester. KThe .blacksmith was so angry that fairly bit his words. 'Sf4See 'ere, doc,” he cried, and his 1 fwrearm sawed the air. "we ha’ spliced OU' young uns. an' buried ou’ dead in dese 'ere cross-roads fo' nigh on to tIUrty years withouten inte’fe’ence o’ XKf pa’son-man; au' we ain't agoin’ t’ pay no fees now to’ wat de good Gawd grants free.” rCh. I dunno as to that,” said the little doctor. "1 hearn our pa'son 'low that he intended holdin’ a prey'r s meet in' here to-night.” L,*Dar.g yo’ pa'son!” replied the other. And he bared his arm, on which the muscles stood out like cords of steel. The bellows heaved; the fire leaped up; the iron became a cherry red; then white scales formed upon it; the anvil rang, and a shower of sparks fell about the place. The little doctor chuckled knowing ly. It was a way he had whenever highly amused, which must have been most of the time, for his thoughts were a perennial fountain of fun, bub bling up within him. It is not to be concealed that Doc tor Ben—a recent convert, by the way, The spectators gathered around. and one whose motives were not al ways easy to fathom—had been at the parsonage that very morning. He found his friend expatiating on the glory of such as were called upon to contend with the heathen in for eign parts, thereby securing for them selves the crown of martyrdom; while he bitterly lamented the fact that his own ministry lay in a civilized land, where nothing ever happened, and the only distinction possible was that of patience and long suffering. “Oh, I dunno as to that,” remarked the little doctor smiling blandly. “Now there is Rowden cross-roads, for in stance, which, while not exactly pa gan, is about as tough a place as one would wish to run gainst. They ain't had a pa'son there inside of thirty years; not since the last one was stoned out of the settlement. It ought to be a party good field fo’ the sowing of the Gospel, seein’ ’a how the land has lain fallow so long.” “Enough!” cried the parson, smil ing, “I shall preach there this very night.” The doctor stopped again at the par sonage on his way home, after his visit to the blacksmith snop. He found the preacher, like another Paul, work ing in his garden, that he might not be a burden to his charge. He leaned on his hoe and mopped his perspiring face with a colored cotton handker chief as the doctor came up. "Hello, pa’son! still bent on preach in’ at Rowden to-night?” "If the Lord spare me, brother, I chal! most assuredly try to do His work in that part of His vineyard.” “Wa al, it looks as if you might find opposition.” “We have to expect to wrestle with Satan sometimes, brother.” “Yes, but It looks as if Satan d-> be powerful strong in this instance.” “How so? Was it himself you saw in the flesh?” “It was himself that I saw in the flesh of Bill Jenkins, the blacksmith at Rowden. He’s a heap sight heavier man 'n you be, pa’son. an’ he says that you’ll have him to lick before you preach in Rowden to-night. So long, pa’son.” The little doctor chuckled. He knew his men and that they were game. “Goin’ to be a little affair down to nowden to-night; better be there about sundown,” he shouted to more than one acquaintance as he drove past. True to his word, Parson Jones rode into Rowden about dusk and hitched his horse at the rack near the smithy, which at that hour resembled a fiery pit. The interior was lit up by the sullen glow of the forge as with an evil eye, and without was the gather ing gloom. The prfeacher was long and lank, and in his clerical clothes was a sight to see. They hung about him as loose ly as the limp rags flap about a scare crow in the fields. The blacksmith came out muttering inaudibly. "Are you he who would dare inter fere with the preaching of tile Word Oi God in this place?” asked the par son, as he calmly removed his coat. *No preacher-man ain't agoin' t’ preach in dls 'ere town,” sputtered the blacksmith, drawing off his leathern apron and wiping his handB upon it. “No, siree! not ef I—” The preacher's hand descended upon his mouth, cutting short the sen tence. Then ensued a lively scuffle, during which the spectators hastily gathered around the two combatants. The blacksmith directed a well-aimed blow with all his force; but the wiry parson simply turned sideways, and it went past him like a blade, which unexpect ed ruse sent his heavy antagonist sprawling face foremost, in the dust. He soon had him covered and was pounding vigorously. “I am going to preach in this town to-night.” “Not ef I—” Again the blows hailed thick and fast. “Let up, there! Enough! Stop, stop!” “I am going to preach and wmnt you to attend in the front pew and to lead in all the responses.” “I will, I will! Oh! Oh! Stop!" pleaded the blacksmith. • • * * • Somebody handed the minister his coat, and he brushed the dust from his trousers as well as possible. And straight from the field of battle all marched to the little town meetiug' house, where we find them at the opening of this story. THE FIELD OF JOURNALISM. Puck Treats Grave Subject With an Attempt at Humor. A tiny typographical error often causes more comment than a column editorial. Never judge a person by the clothe3 he wears. The frail, wan man with dilapidated trousers and debilitated shoes may be a great financier or the editor of your local paper. After reading of a certain man who was buried alive for a week on a wager, and of another who eats poison in a dime museum for a modest sti pend, wo fain would confess that we might be doing worse than running a newspaper in this town. In a certain aquarium Is a large turtle which has not eaten for more than a year, and does not seem to have suffered the slightest inconven ience from its prolonged fast. What a phenomenal success a turtle would bo fn the newspaper business In this region! Once upon a time an editor found a fifty-dollar bill, gave It to its owner and seemed greatly sururised when a reward was offered him. His eccen tric action was generally thought to have been prompted by the sterling honesty which we so frequently see mentioned In stories, but it may have been that he did not know what It was he found. When Benjamin Franklin was about to establish the Pennsylvania Gazette, in 1728, his friends warned him that he might be overcrowding the field, as there were already three newspa pers in the country. But, despite the fact that there are co-day nearly 3,000 dailies and about 2o,000 publications of all sorts in the United States, there are still innumerable promising open ings for talented young optimists wich money to lose.—Puck. Serious Quarrel Over Water. Recently a member of the legisla tive assembly of South Australia said in a speech: “I am ready to take up my rifle, and it may be necessary to send a South Australian army into Victoria and New South Wales to de stroy their irrigation works.” This direful threat is due to the tapping of the waters of the Murray—the Aus tralian Mississippi—by Victoria and New South Wales, the two states be tween which it forms the boundary line for the greater part of its course. The result is that when the one big river of the commonwealth enters South Australia for the final stage of its career it is not the noble and gen erous stream that it was before being robbed for irrigation purposes by the other two states. And the South Aus tralians, being prevented by insur mountable natural conditions from getting the first pull at the river themselves, are angry and indignant. A Quartet. He—My dear Miss Smith—or may I call you Kitty? Moon—(This promises, I fear, to be quite tame.) She—You oughtn’t, but you make It sound so pretty! Cupid—(They're starting In as usual. Same old game). He—The moonlight paints with gold your fairy tresses. Moon—(Now wouldn't that Juct make you faint away!) She—Only a poet thus his thought ex presses! Cupid—(What Idiotic things some peo ple say!) He—Dear, If I loved you, would you care to know It? Moon—(Now that, I must admit Is rather good.) She—O. if I cared—I’d be too shy to show Cupid—(They’re doing better than I thought they would!) He—Ah—If I dared—but you're ao far above me— Moon—(Ahem! I think I’ll hide behind this tree.) 1,nu She—Lov< levels all ranks— lie—lie you. can you. love me? Cupid -(Well, now they have no further use for me!) _—Carolyn Wells |n Ltfa. Hen’s Strange Ride. From Tivoshall, Norfolk, England, Mr. C. Lain, a farmer, drove the othei day to Pulham Oak, a distance of sev eral miles. On arrival there he put the cart in a shed and transacted hit business. Nearing home he was as tonished to find one of his own hens perched on the axle of the cart. The fowl had ridden the whole journej in this curious position. She was no! disturbed and occupied her chosei perch til' next morning. Lesson VTI., Nov. IS—David’s Tram n Ood—Pmlm 23 Golilon Text—"The Lord 1* My 8h#p verd; I Shull Not Want"—Psalm 23:1. The Lord our Shepherd.—V. 1. “The jord.” Jehovah, the ever-living, eter tal God. The Good Shepherd of John • U: 1-16 is the same Jehovah manifest ed and made visible iu the person of lesus Christ. I. ho Satisfies Every Want. "I thall not want.” “Every real need vital 1 be supplied, both temporal and spiritual. Every wayward desire may not be gratified. It may not be best for us that It should be. Our Shep herd is wise as well as kind. He con ,'ults for our true and lasting welfare, rather than for our immediate grati fication; and he knows better what will promote the former than we can possibly do.”—Prof. W. 11. Green. II. The Life of Peace and Plenty.— V. 2 First. "He maketh me to lie down.” The most active life needs periods of rest, as we put hyacinth inilbs for a time in the dark if we would have the best blooms, or as crystals are formed lu the stillness of the saturated solution. “There are times when a man needs to lie still, like the earth under a spring rain, let ting the lessons of experience and the memories of the Word of God sink down to the very roots of his life, ami Ini thi' deep reservoirs of his soul.* * They are not always lost days when his hands are not busy; they are grow ing days. And tor this side of a man’s life the Great Shepherd provides in his green pastures. * * * Now and then God makes such an one lie down. * * * Many a man has had to thank God for some such en forced season of rest, in which he first learned the sweetness of meditation on the Word, and of lying still In God’s hands and waiting God’s pleasure."— M R. Vincent. Second. “In green pastures." The good shepherd always feeds his sheep. Note that the lying down Is amid green pastures, where there is abundant food for the soul. This ex perience becomes an oasis amid the desert sands of life. The soul needs food as really as the body. Whatever enlarges the soul, builds up the char acter, increases faith, hope, love, knowledge, and all the virtues, makes the conscience more tender and true, cultures the will, perfects the judg ment, and enables the soul to work out a pure and holy life and fits It for heaven—whatever does these things constitutes the green pastures. The Good Shepherd leads 11s into the ex periences and discipline which thus feed the soul. Ho sends the Holy Spirit, who Imparts new life and vigor. By his example and personal presence he nourishes the soul. He brings tho power of heaven into our dally life. Third. “He leadeth me." "The shep herd goes before them, anil they fol low him, come to his call and crowd round him for safety if danger threat ens. There, there Is perpetual dan ger from sudden torrents, from wolves and robbers; there are but rare and scanty streams, and the flocks often suffer from parching thirst. The shep herd never leaves them. When night approaches, they follow him to some safe fold—a cave in the hillside. Sur rounded by his watchful dogs, the guardian, ‘keeping watnh over his flock by night.’ makes his bed In front of the cave, on a pile of twigs and brushwood, collected • ltfcin a circle of stones, to prote-t him from the damp, and rushes heaped upon them to give warmth. When morning comes, the sheep are counted as they pass out of the cave, and then follow the shep herd to the green pasturage belonging to the village or tribe."—Canon Tris tram in S. S. Times. So Christ goes before his flock. He does not ask them to go where he does not go him self. He shows them the way both by precept and example. All he ask3 is for them to follow him. III. Restoring rho Soul.— V. 3. “He restoreth my soul," or life, the same Hebrew word being used for both. The soul is the seat of life. The Good Shepherd restores the soul from wan derings into sin and error and mis takes as the Eastern shepherd spends much of his time in recovering stray ing slieep. God restores us by the promise of his forgiveness, by the gift of his Holy Spirit, by his provi dence, by thorns and afflictions, by the teachings of his Word. He re stores It by puttirg a new life and a new heart in man. IV. Divine Guidance.—The restored soul he not only brings back to tho green pastures and to the fold, but “he leadeth me in the paths of right eousness.” That is, In the right paths in which one ought to walk, the paths which lead to the best places, the ■ paths of duty and right living. “For his name's sake.” Not because of our uvearts or claims We could not have the face to ask it for our own Bakes. But because he loves to guide 11s, be cause it is his nature to help us, be cause he W'ould not be true to himself and his promises, unless he guided us thus. It Is this thought, that gives us courage to trust him. It Is for hls name's sake “that In the ages to come he might show the exceeding riches of his grace in his kindness toward us through Jesus Christ (Eph. 2:7). “It is to show how his grace can make a blazing beacon out of a charred brand, a mitered priest out of a criminal (Zech. 3:2, 5).”—M. R. Vincent. V. Protection in Times of Danger.— V. A. “Yea. though (or when) I walk (go forward steadily in the path of duty) through the valley of the sha dow of death.” Cheyne says that this may mean "the gloom like that of Hades,” or "the very gloom of Hades.” It refers to times of darkness, depres sion, and almost despair, as when Je sus on the cross felt that his Father had forsaken him; times when there ai» such thick clouds of sorrow and pain that God’s sun and stars are blot ted from the sight, as when Elijah wished to die under the juniper tree, and John the Baptist In the Machae rus dungeon. Compare Bunyan's pic ture of Christian in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, the pathway close by the side of hell whence came flame and smoke and hideous noises, and fiends approaching; and the way as dark as pitch, so that "when he lifted up his foot to set forward he knew not where or upon what he should set it next." This experience is well rep resent'd by the Hock which often David must have seen In the gloomy ravines which penetrate the cliffs over hanging the Dead Sea, where he was caught by the setting of the sun, by sudden storms and torrents, exposed in the darkness to robbers and wild beasts. "1 will fear no evil.” “He does not say that no evil will ever come to him. For he knows well enough that there are many grievous things In life and hard to hear. But do we not know that infinitely more suffering is caused by needless fear than by actual disasters? . . . We may be hurt, but never harmed.”— Rev. Henry Van Dyke, D. D. God did not take up the three Hebrews out of the furnace of fire, but he came down and walked with them in it. He did not remove Daniel from the den of lions; he sent his angel to close the mouths of the beasts. He did not an swer the prayer of Paul to remove the thorn in the flesh, but he gave him a ‘juflficiency of grace to sustain him. "Fou thou art with me.” Thou who are stronger than all the powers of evil, thou vho controllest all forces, all In fluences. all powers art ever near. I cannot see thee; but 1 hear thy voice, I feel thy presence, I recognize thy urotectlng love. rny rod and tny stair tney comiort me.” How did the rod comfort the sheep? The rod, the shepherd's crook, was used for helping any sheep which had been caught in the rocks ( r torrent, or had been injured. The crook was placed around its neck or leg and the shepherd drew it out of its difficulty. The sight of the rod in the shepherd's hands showed that he was able and willing to help in every time of need. How did the stafT com fort the sheep? The staff was the weapon of defense against robbers and w*ld beasts. The sheep saw the shepherd with the staff over his shoul der. aud knew that their defender was nt hand. ‘‘They comfort me.” Comfort means much more than to console. It means tlso to strengthen, to invigorate, to encourage. From con, "together," and fortls, "strong.” VI. Quests of God.—V. 5. “Thou preparest (or spreadest) a table be tore me in the presence of mine ene mies.” He can sit down and eat In perfect security, though surrounded by enemies. The servant of God is more than a sheep to he fed—he Is an honored guest. His enemies see that God is his frieml and protector, dnd they cannot harm him without first overcoming God himself. The cove nant of bread, of eating together as host and guest, was one of the most sacred in the East. “The master of the table is bound, so far as his juris diction extends, to protect every one who oats with him. If there be foes at hand, it is easy to see what a comfort it must be to a defenseless mail thus lo pledge for his si.tccor one powerful to help.” Compare the fate of the Templar in Scott’s “Ivanhoe.” “Thou : no in test my head with oil.” An at tention shown to guestH. “The an cient Hebrews, like the Greeks and Homans, and most Oriental peoples, made constant use of unguents. The great perspiration and frequent bath ing, drying the skin, made some such application necessary to comfort."— William Ewing. VII. The Overflowing Cup of Life. "My cup runneth over." The cup that holds God's blessings and mercies Is overflowing with them. There are more than he know s how to use. God’s love and mercy are free and abundant. He gi''es "good measure, pressed down and running over.” VIII Gpd’s Blessings Are for Ever lasting—V. 6. "Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me.” "The Hebrew word translated surely’ more often means only; i. e., goodness and mercy only—nothing else—will follow me."— Cowles. The goodness and mercy will follow him; he need not seek anxious ly for them as an illusive blessing, ss the child seeks in vain for the raf’i bow; but they will pursue him an overtake him, If only he is a tru sheep of the Good Shepherd. God iovts to give good things to his people. He is overflowing with blessings he desires to confer. And every blessing we receive is a new proof of his good ness and hears the image and super scription of hie love. And we need not be troubled about the future, for the goodness and mercy shall follow “all the days of my life. And I will dwell in the house of the Lord foi ever.” The dwelling in God’s hous6 here, the abiding in his worship, ir the heavenly atmosphere of his lov^' under ail the divine influences of God’s house, prepares us to dwell In hi? heavenly home w-here we can “sprve him day and night in his temple." SOME OLI) DOORWAYS ALL CHARACTERISTICS OF TIME AND CUSTOMS. Is^ New England Town* and Villages These Relies of the Past Abound— Antique Treasures Found Behind the Closed Portals. Stroll through some of our New Eng land villages and make a study of their doorways. Possibly you may be disap pointed at first, and, unless you have already studied the subject somewhat and are, therefore, prejudiced in Its favor, you may sec doorways only as doorways—as necessary parts of a whole. But plod along, and keep your eyes open, and you will soon be lost Jus WV/*'AN"TAVtRMi KfctNt N H. ■fcuu.1 1750 la contemplation of the erstwhile com monplace. The I>mgfellow house must, of ;ourse, be cited for Its very Interesting doorway, being modeled much after the manner of that of the Wyman Tav ern; the Storey house In Salem (which belonged to Julian 8torey's grand father); that of the beautiful old Bel lows estate in Walpole, N. H., built during the war of 1812, and of the famous Jumel mansion in One Hun dred and Sixtieth street. New York, which has recently come Into promi nence through Its purchase by tht Colonial Dames. In the Wyman Tavern, In Keene N. H., we have an examplo of the Nor man's use of polished columns. The earliest use—for later on clusters o> columns came Into evidence, and latei still their adornment with sculptureo figures. In one of those narrow serpentina streets of Marblehead is found one par ticularly splendid example of an old doorway. See how ponderous and Ill proportioned it looks at first glance But a careful survey and the symmetry and purpose becomes apparent. Portsmouth, N. H„ Is full of quaint and infesting old houses, whose door ways alone somehow suggest the fact that the people refuse to open to curl ous strangers and relic seekers. Most of these old mansions are still occupied by direct descendants of the original owners, and lucky, Indeed. Is he to whom these picturesque doors aro hospitably opened, for behind them are stocked priceless treasures of colo nial times, which would cause the heart of a lover of antiques to beat fast with envy. The Warner house, for Instance, on Daniels street. Is entirely furnished with rare old things brought from Eng land in bygone days, and—Isn't OLD DOORWAY ’ PORTinOUTtt m ( I that a doorway to be proud of, even barring the old brass knocker! The Ladd house, which was built in 1760, shows an Imposing entrance of the Georgian style of architecture, and '.ts then necessary adjunct, the slave pen. is also adorned with an Interest ing door, interesting principally on ac count of its inappropriateness. In the old doorway on Court street, Portsmouth, nnd that of the Hazen house on Congress street, we have an Illustration of tht, progress made :oward elaboration. And so one might go on indefinitely, finding in the rudest and most crude of our old houses lomething of interest, and something 'epresentative of the times in its door ways. Often in the most out-of-the way places one happens upon lines and ingles and curves which show history;
