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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (May 16, 1907)
Loup City Northwestern J. W. BURLEIGH, Publisher. LOUP CITY, - - NEBRASKA. Government-Built Warships. The government builds the best ships that float. That is certain. The Con necticut is the finest vessel of her rate and size in the world, and she was built in a government navy yard. Gov ernment money is spent honestly. There are no fights and squabbles to get what the contracts call for. If it does cost a little more * money it is worth it. In the progress of building up our navy for the last 21 years we are gradually getting to what is the nucleus of a very fair navy. We who are interested in the upbuilding of the navy, says Rear Admiral Joseph B. Ooghlan, U. S. N., in Leslie's Weekly, want more ships. We are to-day en deavoring to get what we have been quietly working for the last 15 years —that is, large ships with large bat teries and great speed. But the sea going classes and the merchants are conservative. It takes a long time to change them. Take, for instance, (the case of the first monitor. It took the government a long time to adopt the plans. These monitors were intended for smooth water and not to go to sea. In the early days we were occupied in getting this type of vessels made into a battleship. We didn't want the mon itors because they were unstable. It is only when we get the big battle ships, whose movements are so slow and steady, that we get the best re sults for warfare. The Actor and His Voice. The supreme gift of the actor is his voice. A singer may or may not be vocally gifted. Yvette Guilbert gives all the effect of melody, even evokes the spirit of tragic horror, with vocal organs that are stiller and smaller than the proverbial voice of con science. The most famous Carmen of our day is said on authority to be one of the worst singers. To the great actor, writes John Corbin in Apple ton's Magazine, the essential is voice, again voice, always voice. Mr. Mans field himself has said something of the kind very eloquently, in an address to the students of the Empire School of Acting. "Think of your voice as a color and as you paint your picture (the character you are painting, the scene you are portraying) mix your colors. You have on your palate t palette) a white voice, la voix blanche; a heavenly ethereal or blue voice, the voice of prayer; a disagree able, jealous, or yellow vojce; a steel gray voice for quiet sarcasm; a brown voice for hopelessness; a lurid, red voice for hot anger; a deep, thunder ous voice for black; a cherry voice, the color of the green sea that a brisk breeze is crisping; and then there's a pretty little pink voice, and the shades of violet—but the subject is endless.” A substitute for beeswax has been discovered in the leaves of the rafia palm, a product of the Island of Madagascar. The wax is extracted by the simple process of beating the dried leaves on a mat to small bits. The particles are then gathered and boiled. The resultant wax is kneaded into small cakes. Experiments are being made with the new substance to find out its commercial value—whether it may be used for bottling purposes, in the manufacture of phonograph cylin ders, etc. Thus with artificial wax and artificial honey the bee is likely to be driven out of business. The first building ever erected in the United States for the public use ,of the federal government, under the constitution, was the mint at Philadel phia. Robert Morris, the patriotic financier of the war of independence, was first to bring up the question of a national mint, and it was he who worked with Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton to induce con gress to adopt the decimal system of money arithmetic. Mrs. George H. Gorham, a well known Washington woman, has just accomplished a herculean and unique task, which is the compilation of a French-English dictionary that affords the means for those desiring to learn either French or English to master those tongues sufficiently to converse and also to enjoy the literature of both. A college girl out in New York is going into business this summer as an Adirondack guide. If the Maine girls ever follow her example, the guides now licensed for the Maine wil derness may have to cut rates in order to get business. The king of England is a publisher. He has the exclusive right to issue mariners’ charts and English marin ers are forbidden by law to use any charts but his. The copyright on these royal charts, furthermore, never runs out. It is rather petulantly pointed out that most of his time since he has been in the army Peary has spent on leave. But if he brings home the north pole nobody will kick about the salary he gets. Charles A. Eich, of Cohasset, Mass, now that Thomas Wigglesworth is dead, is Harvard's oldest living gradu ate. He was 18 years old when he was graduated in the class of ’33. He is 92 years old, and has practised las nearly 70 years. A Miss Famingham lays claim tc being the oldest woman journalist ol England. No one has claimed the honor in America, and there are loti at woman journalists In this country, Joe. CHAPTER V.—Continued. “Like the bthers, you think I have forfeited the right to one word of sympathy.” “More than all the others, I should think,” she answered calmly, without hesitation. “Yes,” I said, wearily, “you have placed a placard on ray back, as they used to put a high paper cap on the boys in school. On the cap the school masters used to write the word ‘Dunce;’ on the placard you have written the word 'Coward.' And yet I am not quite a coward. Do you re fuse to see that I atn simply one of those men whose fate it has been to be tried to the uttermost? Forgive me; I am appealing to your sympathy after all. You resent that. It is quite natural. It was a moment of weak ness.” Again I pushed back my chair. She regarded me half curiously. Perhaps she noticed I was haggard and pale. Perhaps in spite of herself, she vras a little sorry for me. "Oh, I suppose,” she said, very gently, “that there is something to be said In the defense of everyone. By and by I may feed less bitter to ward you, Mr. Haddon. I shall re member that you did not spare your self—-that you might not have told me"—her voice fell to a whisper— "everything.” “Thank you for saying so much. If there were any reparation I would make it. You should know that.” “Reparation!” Her eyes flashed. “How can you speak of reparation?” "And is there no atonement possi ble, even for the most wretched?” She looked down at me almost sternly, for she had risen at the ques tion. Then, as if a thin veil had been drawn from her face, I saw the gentle pity of womanhood reflected there. A strange sweetness came into her voice as she spoke slowly, almost unwill ingly. It was a mystical message of coinfort she wras bringing to me. She was suggesting a way of hope after all. “Because of you a life has been lost to the world. I leave out the per sonal loss to myself. Because of your weakness, to call it by the most charitable name, the world is the poorer for one strong soul.” “Yes,” I said, humbly, “yes.” “But if,” she spoke more eagerly, “if through you a life were saved for the v.-orld—if it were to be a life for a life—” A moment I stared at her, uncom prehending. She had suggested a way of escape so romantic that to one liv ing in this twentieth century it may seem absurd. But the very audacity of the suggestion appealed to me. “Yes,” I cried, passionately, “I un derstand. It is to be a life for a life! In some way, no matter how, I am to save a life for the life that has been lost through me.” “At least that should restore your self-respect,” she assented almost coldly. She wished me to understand that whatever I might or might not do was no concern of hers. But I was not to be discouraged. “And if I am so fortunate as to ac complish this”—I held her eyes steadily—“will you, I should say rather, will the world, your world, re member that? Shall I then stand on the same plane as other men in your respect?” “I vouch nothing for the world, and certainly not,” she added, haughtily, “for myself.” could count upon just how much hap piness would come to my life, how much interest routine and duty would yield me. But my imagination had been set aflame. A world of chivalry and ro mance beckoned to me alluringly. And if I trod the mazes of that fairy world, there would be none to ridicule, for there would be none to know that I had set out to find it. If it proved to be only a world of dreams and fan tasy, I should at least have had the delicious excitement of seeking it, of playing make-believe—the most fas cinating game, after all is said, for boy or man. I had come to Europe secretly cherishing the hope that just such an adventure would come to me as had happened to-night. The 33 years of my life had been passed in an atmo sphere unusally dead and prosaic. When I had left the university, I had acted as secretary to an uncle, a multi-millionaire who lived in an ob scure town of the middle West. I had trudged the dreary and stupid circle of business routine, my eyes bent som berly to earth. Success had come, or what world calls success—money and a measure of respect that is given to one with a substantial bank account. But that is not life. And then one day I awoke. I real ized with a start that life was slip ping away from me; and with the hours the golden aspirations and de lights that make life worth while. I both hands the English journal in which my photograph had appeared. Our eyes met. I gazed at her stand ing perfectly still. It was not embar rassment or anger that held me; it was rather wonder. For on the face of this woman was the same intent, curious surprise that had astonished me so much earlier in the evening, when I first met Mrs. Brett and her daughter. A measure of surprise i3 natural enough, when the original of a photo graph unexpectedly appears before one. But I knew that, this fact alone did not explain the strained look of the woman at the open window. De fiance (or was it sheer anxiety?) flashed from the burning depths of these eyes that held me fascinated. She stirred. I saw her toss the pa per lightly to the table. Then she dis appeared. I entered the hotel. I paused un certainly in the hall, then w'alked swiftly into the reading room. Ap parently it was deserted. T reached for the paper; I tore out the page in which my photograph ap peared; I crushed it savagely in my hand. There was a light, mocking laugh. I looked up, startled. It was the woman again. She stood almost in shadow. "One bare arm was placed lightly on her hips; the other stretched its white length on the low mantel and sup ported her. There was something oriental in her magnificent costume. The dress was black velvet. About her neck hung a nhrrow stole of Eastern embroidery, studded at intervals with turquoises. From the extended arm draped a scarf of shimmering gold thread. About the left arm, both at the wrist and above the elbow, were several bracelets of bizarre design. The corsage, too, flashed with gems as she breathed slowly and deeply. Her pose, as her costume, had something almost bar baric in its sensuous extravagance. The small head, exquisitely coiffured, was turned slightly, thrown back so that her white throat gleamed out of the shadow. The lips were parted. — crG? I felt an emotion that was very near that of triumph. It is extraordinary how in the most sacred of moments the passion to conquer, to subdue, obtrudes itself. Henceforth, whether this woman would have it so or not. there was a bond between us. She had suggested a way of escape! I ac cepted it with passionate gratitude. I swore to myself,-as I stood before her, that I would not rest: until I'had ac complished the sacred task she had set me. I answered with a boldness that surprised even myself: “From this day my one object in life shall be. to make the reparation you have suggested. But when that is done you will know it.” I saw her hand tremble as she light ly touched her hair. It was not so much embarrassment that brought the slow blush to her cheek as anger. She turned from me without a word. I watched her disappear with a strange exultation. CHAPTER VI. The Other Woman. There is no enemy that the aver age man must crush more ruthlessly beneath the iron heel than his imagin ation. The ties of home, of society, the necessity of earning his daily bread—these are barriers that hem him in the narrow rut of routine and duty. He dare not look over the ro mance that beckon alluringly. Or, if lie dare, he must throw prudence and sometimes conscience to the wind. But occasionally a cataclysm, both physical and mental. thrust3 one with out the familiar landmarks. The habits of a lifetime are forgotten then. It is then that one dares the impossible, and refuses to see to what extravagant and fantastic extremes he is recklessly plunging. From dreaming to action is but a step. It is true that the divine mad ness too soon passes; the reaction comes; one is restored sharply to the normal poise by the rude awakening that comes with failure or with self consciousness. But sometimes conse quences are already set in motion, and it is too late to draw back; there is noting .for »t but to be borne on ward with the tide. 80 It was with me.. 1 might return to America—take up the threads of Jtfe vtbere I had left them—laugh at the newspaper accounts of the tragedy —deny them, or at least live them down.. If I did that, I should know exactly what would happen to me. I It Was the Woman Again. was simply a machine, rather a cog in the huge machine of business. I rebelled. In one day I broke the shackles that bound me. I was free. My life was at last my very own. I could do with it what I pleased. I could go where 1 wished. And so I had come to Europe. I had hugged to my breast the common but pathetic delusion that across the seas I should find something—just what I did not knew—something that would make life more joyous, give to it charm and interest. I had searched diligently for the ' magic talisnian in strange cities, and j of course I had not found it. The blue flower is not to be plucked so easily. Instead of happiness and diversion. ! disgrace and misery had come. Should 1 return home, then, imbittered, avert ing the eyes? Or should 1 avail my self of the way of escape which this woman had lightly suggested? And if I chose to consider it a quest a challenge, there was none, not even she, to forbid, though she, of all the people In the world, would be the last to consider it such. And if fortune aided me, as it aids most adventurous souls, I would seek her out, though I searched the wide world for her. And then, perhaps— I crushed in ray hand the pro gramme of music that lay on the ta ble. Pshaw, it was the woman, then, that gave to this fantastic mission its vague thrill; not the idea of the mis sion itself! It was the woman whom I had wronged, and who hated me, that called. She sat in the list*; in her hands was the laurel wreath; for her I would endure the shock of bat tle. I sat quietly, still staring out into the night. The lights of green and red and blue had burned away long, ago. The lake, rocked in its cradle of shadowy mountains, stirred gently under the moon. The terrace was al most deserted, and still I lingered. Disillusionment must come too soon, and with the morrow inevitable de pression. Suddenly I became ill at ease. I turned slowly in my seat. I looked furtively about me. It was as If I had spoken a secret thought aloud, anfl pne were listening, watching, I was watched, and with a curious j intentness that was almost savage. A woman was seated at the window of j tho writing room. She held rigidly la i - j -. still smiling; and more sensuous, more brilliant, more devouring than the gleain of the jewels about her person, was the flame that burned in her eyes. She laughed again. It was impossi ble not to know that she was chal lenging me. The pose, the look, the laugh—all were a challenge. But I was in no mind to accept it, and glanced idly at the papers on the ta ble. Presently I walked toward the door. Again her light laughter pur sued me. “Pardon, monsieur,’’ she called, still mockingly. I turned and looked silently at my tormentor. Mischievously she pointed a jew eled finger to a placard on the wall. "Guests are forbidden to carry away the papers from the reading room,” I read. To assume a tragic mien at this de licious bit of badinage would have been absurd. I could not help laugh ing. But I answered with some pique: “Hotel proprietors are forbidden to annoy guests with offensive photo Luxemburg a Quaint Country - 4k_ Only a twelfth as large as Holland, the little grand-duchy of Luxemburg is one of the mapt delightful of Euro pean countries. Yet it is almost al ways neglected by the tourist who travels from Paris to Berlin uncon scious of its nearness. Luxemburg is free and independent, and according to Robert Shackleton. writing in Harper’s Magazine for January, it is quaint and fascinating. It boasts free speech and a free press, it has free schools of commerce, philosophy, farming, gardening, manual training, and housewifery. But with all its modernity its ways are still old and its customs characteristic, including an annual official hunt for wild boar; and when the city bells ring out the hours, they play some operatic bit or a strain from a gay fong. As «e Dree me. "We an dream dreams,” said Mr. BHItoga, "and I suppose if we could ' .. •■ • • look into our neighbor’s heart, be that neighbor man or woman, we might find there cherished aspirations and fancies fantastically at variance with the said neighbor's conventional de meanor and orderly life. “A man I know, energetic, capable, effective, successful and in all his life notably systematic, tells me that if he cpuld do as he would like to do he would be a tramp. No Icbs a person than Mrs. Billtops, paragon of domes ticity and devotion, confides to me that she always wanted to be an act ress. Let us be grateful that actually she chose to play her charming part on the Billtop household stage.” , - Avoiding Trouble. “Do you have any trouble with your Janitor?” ashed Mrs. Flatleigh. “Oh, no. Both my husband and I belter* in devoting all our spare mo menta to the pursuit ot pleasure.— Chicago Record-Herald. • ■■■- . - . graphs in the hotei reading rooms! That is a new rule I shall have placed upon the walls to-morrow.” She clapped her hands delightedly. “A beautiful and much-needed rule,” she murmured, her eyes sparkling. Then she came toward me a few steps, and stood, a dazzling and fascinating figure in the full light. Her eyes no longer mocked; they beseeched. “Forgive me. rt was cruel to laugh. But when I catch you, like a naughty child—ah, that is too droll!” “On the contrary, madam, I should thank you. It was my first laugh for weeks.” “Monsieur!” She came a step still nearer, her dress gleaming and glit tering as she moved. She looked at me pitifully. But her sympathy was too easily awakened to be convincing. I under stood perfectly that she had been de termined to speak to me when I first entered the room. “Madam,” I said cynically, “it is you who are breaking a rule now—a rule of society.” “Par example?” she demanded, her eyes darkening. "It is forbidden to show sympathy to one who has been unfortunate." She sighed her relief. Evidently she has expected from me a banality to, the effect that society does not sanction a woman's speaking to a strange man. “But"—she made a gesture of con tempt—“the canard of a newspaper! Who believes that?” “All the world, apparently,” I an swered, amused at the vigor of her denial. “Well, I for one. do not.” I regarded her, still cynical, and yet I was moved. Hers was the first sympathy shown to me. I felt in stinctively that it was the cheap and insincere sympathy of an adventuress, who offered it for her own ends. She would demand its price presently. And yet 1 was not ungrateful for her interest. As for the price—well, is anything quite gratuitous? Whether the payment be in gold or gratitude or love or obedience—we all have our price. “And why do you not believe the account of this newspaper?” “You are a race of warriors. One with such blood in one's veins does not play the coward. No!” She struck her hand together to emphasize her conviction. “A race of warriors?” I repeated wonderingly. “Has not every English gentleman the blood of warriors in his veins?” she protested. “But I am an American,” I said quietly. •'Impossible!” She looked at me, really bewildered now. “An Ameri can! But the ladies that you spoke to half an hour ago?” “And can an American not speak to Englishwomen?” I demanded coldly. That she should mention them at all annoyed me. "Then you are not”—she twisted a bracelet about her arm, then looked up swiftly—“you are not even a rela tion?” "1 am not even a friend,” I said, still more coldly. “Good night, mad am.” “Good night, monsieur.” She sank into a fauteuil, as one who is too astonished to make even the physical effort of standing. For the first time sinco»she had spoken she was not acting. As I walked toward the door she stared after me, frown ing in her perplexity. CHAPTER VII. Countess Sarahoff Wins and Loses. The next morning, when I first awoke, I wondered vaguely why this day seemed to be so different from the long and dreary succession of yesterdays—why it promised eager hopes and eager interests to be ful filled. Then I remembered, and my pulses beat faster. Yesterday I de spaired; to-day I hoped. A woman had come into my life— a goddess—Diana of the silver bqw. Chaste and cold as the snows on the Alpine heights I could not see from my window in the blue distance, yet she had called, she had spoken to me. Then, disdainfully cruel, she had gone as she had come. But I was to pur sue. The very audacity of my resolution gave to it its charm. I was not to rest until I had accomplished my uncertain mission. That it was by its very na ture so incredibly difficult did not daunt me. But how was I to set about it? A life for a life. To save to the world a strong and buoyant soul for the strong and buoyant soul that had perished because of my help lessness and my weakness. However romantic, it was a tangible enough ideal. But was I to wander about, like a knight of medevial times, seeking to succor one in peril and distress—to rescue beautiful maidens from grim ogres and terrible dragons? I smiled at the absurd resemblance of my un certain task to theirs. (TO BE CONTINUED.) SENATOR BORAH DENIES WRONGDOING SENATOR BORAH. Senator Borah of Idaho, who was in Washington last week, made the fol lowing statement: "The reports that indictments have been returned against ine or niv clients for alleged land frauds are simply rumors. 1 know nothing of any such indictments. The grand jury has not yet reported its findings and no one seems to have any official knowledge of the reported indictments." ■ ARAB STEEDS SANS SPOTS. Man Fresh from Desert Shattered Fond Tradition of Circus. Homer Davenport, who is described in the woman's Home Companion as “fresh from the Arabian desert,” de clares there is no such thing as a spotted or piebald Arabian steed. "Circuses are perhaps more to blame for the misrepresentation of the Arab horse than any other source,” says he. “A friend of mine owns a circus, and I saw his posters a few years ago, claiming to exhibit 18 or 20 of the only Arabian horses brought to America. “He said they were captured with great difficulty and brought to New York by a special permit of the sul tan: that they were of the family known in history as the Eagle Feath ers horses, so much prized in the Queen of Sheba days; that they were snow white, with big markings in their spots of the tip of eagle feath ers. “We don’t have to believe every thing we read on the circus posters. In this case I am mighty certain these ‘spotted Arabians' were bought at Al bany, Ore. "The most peculiar part of this spot ted horse business is this, and it is not a very strange reason when you THE WORST PART OF IT. Comments on Broken Mirror Much Worse Than Actual Cost. There was a cigar store opened up town the other night, and as the build ing was not provided with steam heat a gas radiator was supplied, says the Xew York Press. Three hours later a huge plate mirror directly behind was cracked from top to bottom by the unequal expansion in a tight frame. “Bad luck to have a mirror break " commented a customer as be stood at the cigar lighter. ‘•You'll have seven years' bad luck.” “I don't mind the glass breaking. ’ the cigar man explained to a friend. ”1 can pay for a new' glass, and I'm not superstitious, but I can’t have th« new mirror for a week, and meantime every man who comes in here is go ing to tell me it’s bad luck to have the glass smashed. Sure, it's bad luck. Don't I have to stand here and pre tend I’m hearing that fool remark for the first time? I’m liable to kill some one before the glass is replaced. I've heard it at least 50 limes so far, and this is only the first day.” Growth of Esperanto. From Breslau writes Consul H. T Spehr about the spread of Esperanto: PLAN TO CREATE NEW STATE Showing Boundary Lines of Proposed New State. Academic as may have seemed to outsiders the discussion of plans to form a new state out of parts of Idaho, Washington and Oregon with Spo kane as the center, the project has taken on definiteness /ind force as a re suit of a report of the Spokane Chamber of Commerce, just made by its "new state” committee and given out to the public after adoption. The proposed state would comprise the panhandle of Idaho, northeastern Oregon and east ern Washington. knowr it, that spotted anything is cre ated by a mixture of different races, of different breeds, and that likely ac counts for the fact that the Arabian desert in all its history has never pro duced a spotted or piebald horse: pos sibly from the fact that there is never any mixture of blood." Carpets Hold Tenants. “Have you rugs or carpets?” asked the landlord of a prospective tenant. “Carpets,” said the woman. “I’m glad of that,” said the landlord. “I’ve got so I always ask that ques tion, and whenever possible I rent to the people who are so old-fashioned as to cling to carpets. There is nothing like a carpet to hold a tenant in a place. A lease isn’t half so effective. Carpets are cut to fit the floors and it will require pretty big inducements to get their owner to pull up stakes and go some place else where the car pets will have to pe made all over again. The advocate of rugs is held down by no such considerations. Rugs will fit any floor and the person using them will move every time he feels like it. Therefore, give me tenants with the carpet habit.” r . Providing for an old Dog. A Kentucky Judge recently showed bis affection for an old bird dog by formally committing him to the coun ty farm, sending this order of com mitment to tbe superintendent: “Dear Sir: You will please receive and safely keep the body-of ‘Dewey John son.' He is a little old, but he has been raised a gentleman and has al ways kept tbe very best of company. His associates have been governors, generali, majors. Judges, doctors, etc. Yon will please credit tbe old gen tleman to magisterial district Na 9." 'mMsatmLmasmaaaaBsasaassssmmm "American manufacturers and dealer? should make use of this medium in their campaigns for trade with foreign countries. There are Esperanto group? in the 24 leading cities of Germany and new ones are forming. There are In the world about 425 groups, besides 60 trade or scientific organizations, whose members either are all Esperantists, or use Esperanto when writing to a mem ber in another country. Fourteen peri odicals are printed wholly in Esper anto, 17 partly and 19 well-known jour nals devote more or less space to Esperanto articles." Their Probable Next Meeting. Gen. Booth, of the salvation army speaking in London of his visits tc Norway and Sweden and Denmark, de scribed his interview with the king of Denmark: “At parting we shook hands again and again and his majes ty said: 'Gen. Booth, we shall meet again, and wherever we do meet I shall be very happy to see you.' 'Yes, your majesty,' I replied, ‘we shall meet again—over the river, your majesty. I trust we shall meet over the river.’ He said: Yes, over the river.’ Willing to Try. “Remember,” said the lawyer, “you have undertaken to tell nothing but the truth.” “I’ll do my best,” answered the ex pert witness, “but! won’t know how far I have succeeded until I’m through with the cross-examination.” A Good Reason. “Do you believe old Mlllyuns’ young widow is really grieved over his death?" '1 know she is. Black Is awfully unbecoming to her complexion."