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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 24, 1908)
'|5y!§H NO DRINKS NO Smokes NO CHEWS g Nomr f\|0 jUUrtlN^J TwPOKei* lH'7'1"' NO Nl W.d. BRYAN 'WHO WILL Lecture 'mtm ~Q/iT0P<j(j5rArp/?esfflr dmmy 2^ ' \ i he Mm Rm mm MTEffimm. — A . - — THIN a few day* our earn win o>- filled with *he diafen inf: r-i am of people breaking their New Year's resolutions. Three million sets of iron-cla<i non-combustible American "nev er-agalns” crushed to earth will remain there until dug up again the night of December 31, 3909. What has the New Year in store for you. joy or sorrow? Few to-day realize what or where they will be before the end of 1909. and attempts to prognos ticate probably would be vain. As far as destiny is concerned the world literally lives .“from hand :o mouth.” We can only guess at what the next year will bring. For William Jennings Bryan 1909 means more tires at so much per night. For William How s'.i Taft, 1909 is a year of glad rejoicing, for on March 4 he assumes the presidential chair vacated by Theodore Roosevelt. Four years ago when an attempt was made to relegate Mr. Taft to the In nch the supreme court of the I’nited States lie little suspected that he was material to fill the . i air at the head of the nation. loy is mingled witn sadness in President Moose 'll's case anil his cup is one of bitter-sweet, for while he lifts the cares of the presidential office f:om his head and applies his strenuosity tests upon the habitues of the East. African jungle he ha- shot his holt as far as tile U. S. A. is con < ’ riied, there being nothing left 'to conquer. Put for the commonplace citizen of these United States 1909 carries only conjecture, as a rule. Lots of men and women start the year planning .1 carry out some eherished ideas, whether they will succeed being a matter that only Father "lime himself can solve. There are approximately 80,000,000 souls in this country. Of that number statistics say 3,000,000 have drawn up sets of resolutions, tihich if carried out would cut a swath in the nation's liquor and uiliacco traffic. Prom every stale in the union the cry “never again” arises, and just a few days after the dehut of the new year the phrase gives way to a mur mur of “just one more" with the eventual result that 15 days or three weeks finds conditions once more at a normal state. There is a saying that a man is never great until in dies. Therefore it is generally not until the de mise of the righteous that we learn of the man or woman who made and kept a New \ears reso lutiou. Then tlie press let a* know about it and as a. rule the alleged New Year's resolution which was kept may be laid at the rioor of the bright young reporter who covered the death and who was anxious to inoculate a feature irto his story. There are thousands of ways of applying the “never again." Here are a few of the more or less popular ways: 1 promise never again, after January 1 to— Drink intoxicants, Smoke Tobacco, Swear, Be Mean to My Wife, Keep Late Hours. Waste Money, Eat Heavy Meals, Vote the -Ticket. Grow a Mustache, Spurn the Alarm Clock's Call, Read Novels. Quit My Job. Believe Fish Tales, Play Cards. Gamble, Celebrate July 4, Dance Overtime. Ask for More Pay. Tell Lies. Wear Loud Socks, Flirt, Part My Hair in the Middle. Shirk Work, Watch Salome Dances, Marry, Be Conceited. Wear Merry Widow Hats. Etc. Other purely local faults are subjects of New Year's resolutions and usually the signed and sworn document is tucked away in a corner, neglected and its contents forgotten. Then the party to the “swearing off," who for three days has been telling his friends or her friends how invigorating it feels to be once more spiritually pure, drops down a step or two and when resolu tions are mentioned has a merry laugh and tells about how last New Year's he or she had sworn off this and that and had had more fun "with the folks over it.” At midnight each December 31, Father Time loads up the water wagon with thousands of ex imbibers who now are Arm believers in the health giving properties of aqua pura. About 12:01 a. m.. January 1, the one who is less able to stand the gaff of total abstinence slides off to the ..JJJU UIJ I "111*I ground and ];.thwJs to celebra'p For Tear that he may he lo-eiume two or throe others follow' hiru and pretty soon most of them are sliding back to Mother Earth and alleged happiness. Occa sionally a man or two is found who keeps a reso lution or two and then there is a place reserved for him in the hall of fame, blit there are lots of empty niches there. New Veal's parties, attended by young people are the breeding [daces for resolutions. Invent ors of games who profit thereby, have gone so far as to concoct resolution games for parties of that sort and in some of the contests the loser is com pelled to keep his promise to “swear off" this or that, if lie would adhere to his or her affidavit. A story is told of a voting lady and a young man. engaged to each other, who attended a New Year's party. The couple were extremely fond of each other and the bride-to-be had only one objection to her intended spouse, viz., that he drank intoxi cants. He was not aware that she knew it. Con sequently before the little social function she "fixed" the resolution contest, so he would lose. She playfully told him that he must keep his resolution and he, rather fearfully promised, little suspecting the plot. Well, he lost and said he would keep the prom ise, though he lied and said he never touched a ‘ drop in his life." “I know you don’t drink,” she breathed into his ear from the depths of a cozy corner, "but 1 want to be sure that you never will." Thus the young man's habit met its Waterloo in the New Year’s trick of a "stacked deck," pro moted by his fiancee, and now, five years following their marriage, his taste for spirits was declared positively extinct by the wife in a recent coroner's inquest at the ladies’ sewing circle. That was one resolution which held and prob ably will for the rest of the young married man’s life, providing he doesn’t get into politics. I3ut that was one of a few. When a man or woman makes a resolution with a string attached to it, such as awarding a watching friend a few simo leons in case the promise to abstain from some habit is broken, then the vaccination “takes,” but otherwise, it seldom holds good for more than a week. A week is really a long stretch for the life of a set of promises, most of them expiring with dawn of January 1, although having been made only the previous night. This new year will see the breaking of approximately 3,000.000 well founded resolutions, but who cares? There are lots more New Years coming, say the philoso phers. VERDI AND HIS THRIFTY WAYS Great Composer Worried Over Small Hole in His "Best Coat.” Baron Edmondo Mayor des Planches, an.hassador from Italy, told a new Verdi story at a dinner given in Wash ington recently. The great Maestro had just produced his'opern "Aida’ in Paris for the first time and the entire city was wild with enthusiasm. The president of France made It known that at the second performance the rosette of the Legion of Honor would be conferred on the illustrious com poser, a great fete was gotten up to honor the event. The president made the presentation, and Verdi seemed overcome with emotion. Indeed, he fumbled with the rosette so long that one of the attendants of the president arose and, taking his penknife, made a neat slit in the coat and placed th« button firmly in place. After the opera a grand banquet was given and every one was concerned to see that the Maestro looked unhappy. He would lapse into fits of musing even during the most enthusiastic speeches, and would sigh and look doleful indeed. Finally an old friend got near him and asked solicitously what was troubling him. Verdi mused a long time and then explained sadly: “I do not see that you can do anything to help me and, indeed, I cannot see how I can help myself. I am just wondering what my wife will say to me when she sees this great hole in my best coat.” Sashes Much in Evidence. A glance at the windows of the shops show that the sash has come into its own again, and that all sorts of extravagances in that direction may be expected. Not only do chil dren wear sashes, but the young girls and older matrons have them, the sim ple blue and pink ribbons of sweet 16 and the velvet and heavy silk for 60 being equally popular. ARIZONA SEEKS ITS PRESERVATION BY NATION. . - TWIN BUTTES IVE/U? I NT IAN WEILS. If present plans do not miscarry, and if the people of Arizona are per mitted to have their way, a little cor ner of the Painted desert, equal to two townships in area, will soon be de clared a national monument, and set aside for preservation forever in its present condition, for the use and en joyment of the whole people. There is no more beautifully indefi nite term in American geography than "the Painted desert." There are rail road maps that confine the name to a narrow strip of territory along the Little Colorado river; but anyone fa miliar with the southwest knows that there are at least a half score of other regions of equal or greater extent fully as deserving of the title. George Wharton James defines the Painted desert region as extending from the Rio Grande west to the Calico moun tains, the Salton sea. the Mojave des ert. Its northern limits are some where among the plateaus of southern Utah, while its southern boundary must be sought somewhere down in northern Mexico. It includes the Col orado desert, the Grand canyon, the Jlongollon plateau, the Tonto basin, the Verdi, Hassayampa and Salt river valleys, the Petrified forest and the Superstition mountains. Not all of this vast region is desert in character, and only a relatively small portion of its desert expanses deserves to be de scribed as painted. Yet the conditions of color and bare ness that first suggested the name ex ist in places throughout this whole vast stretch of country. Parts of it are as fertile as any of the world's garden spots. Jt contains some of the noblest virgin forests in America, including a number of national forests, aggregat ing many millions of acres in extent. It is crossed by the Continental divide. The lofty peaks of the San Francisco and San Mateo mountains, as well as the lesser heights of the Zuni, Super stition, Mogollon, Pinal and other ranges are within its borders. It is crossed by one of the great rivers of America—the Colorado; and a hundred smaller streams, such as the Little Col orado, the Gila and Virgin rivers. Hill Williams Fork and Havasu, Walnut, Oak, Willow, Diamond and Bluewater creeks drain other portions. Portions of the desert area are mere wastes of natural sand—but other portions are chaotic "bad lands," upon which the Master Painter of the universe has spread a divine hannony of color that shames the wildest flights of the ima gination. Transcontinental travelers never fail to wonder at and admire the standing rocks, red cliffs, black lava, precipices, extinct volcanic craters and tall white walls that lend variety to the view the whole way from Isleta to Gallup. West of the Colorado river, the chocolate-colored mountains and hills that shade from gray to black, and from brown to crimson compel the ^otice of the least observant. All these are of the Painted desert—but they are no more than tantalizing hints of the greater glories that lie beyond the car window perspective. Most of those who forsake the Pull mans and ever after boast of a close view of the Painted desert inspect it only as an incident of a trip to the strange towns of the Hopi Indians—a long and wearisome journey of a hun dred miles or more from Canyon Dia blo, Winslow or Holbrook. The por tions one sees on such a trip are not those most worthy of inspection—for the wagon roads follow, the lines of least resistance, irrespective of the scenery. Nevertheless, no traveler over either route will ever forget the wide outlook over the gaudy, super heated sands, the fantastic sky lines, the black, grim volcanic craters and basalt cliffs, the orange and carmine "bad lands" of the Painted desert. Its coloring is as rich as that of the Grand canyon, and more varied. The prospect is limited only by the powers of human vision. The winds and storms and rushing waters of ages have chiseled basalt, clay and sand ^ VIEW NEAP - north wwill Am rwmf\ I stone into images, columns, monu ments, towers and strange, fantastic forms that have no names. Irrespec tive of its coloring, it would deserve to rank among the world's wonders. Yet its coloring is the greatest wonder of all. Here may be seen a red wall 500 feet high and 100 miles long. Yonder is a coal black cliff of hardened lava rising from a valley floor of snowy alkali. From any vantage point, one may survey a glowing landscape that shows 100 shades of pink, gray, red, chocolate, carmine, crimson, mauve, brown, yellow and olive. Near Indian Wells is a seemingly interminable line of tall rock sentinels, all garbed in dif ferent hues, on guard in this land of enchantment. No wonder the Spanish explorers, when they first beheld it more than 350 years ago, named it "El Pintado Desierto.” Nine miles north of Adamana is Dead ltiver canyon, from the rim of which one obtains a view of the Paint ed desert that can hardly be matched for scenic interest. The drive re quires not more than two hours, over a road that derives more than ordinary, interest from the circumstance that it crosses the old Central Overland stage route, the far western extension of the historic Santa Fe trail. Although this has not been traversed for more than a quarter of a century, the deep ruts worn by the wheels of the stage coaches, freighting caravans and prai rie schooners of the emigrants, bound for the far-off land of gold in the excit ing years that began with '49, are still plainly visible. Just on the blink of the canyon is an ancient cedar tree, the only one for miles around. Tradition has it that here was the famous rendezvous and camping place of a band of despera does and cattle rustlers that terrorized this part of Arizona for many years. Hence the spot is locally famous as the "Robbers' Roost." To describe even the small portion of the Painted desert visible from Robbers’ Roost is as hopeless as to describe an Arizona sunset. As far as the eye can carry is a succession of buttes, terraces and castellated hills that seem to display all the colors of the rainbow. Pervading all is the mys tic purple haze of the arid lands that blends chaos itself into a symphony of color mpre celestial than of this sordid earth. Away off to the northwest is a black, flat-topped mesa, beyond which lies the land of the Hopi Indians. To the north is the land of the Navajos— the American Bedouins. But this is desolation itself, uninhabited even by the hardy tribes that find in the desert a congenial home. At one's feet is the sandy, boulder-strewn bed of a forgot ten river whose healing flow ceased ages ago, when this gorgeous land of thirst bore a far different aspect— green with tropic vegetation and melo dious with the songs of birds. From the parched desolation rise shimmer ing heat waves, so that one shrinks from the descent into the canyon as from a fiery furnace. However, it is not as bad as it looks. A circuitous path leads to the canyon floor, over glittering beds of gypsum and thick deposits of mineral paint. Near the bottom the edge of a vast de posit of silieifled wood is reached. This is not the famous Petrified forest of Arizona, which is 15 miles south, but in many respects it is not less wonderful. Officially it is known as the North Sigillaria forest. It is pro posed to set aside 72 square miles of it as a national monument, that it may be forever preserved as a public pos session. If one's eyes be sharp he may find many strange and curious things min gled with the sand, silex and rock fragments. There are corals and the fossil bones of fishes that disported themselves in ocean depths when this lofty Arizona plateau was far below sea level. There are the fossilized re mains of prehistoric birds, animals and reptiles for which science has not yet invented names. On a larger scale are a thousand freaks of erosion—the work of sandstorm and rainstorm, of wind, water, frost, snow, heat and all the irresistible forces of nature. Yonder stands a host of gigantic, silent, stone figures—some of almost angelic beau ty, and others diabolic in their gro tesqueness—among which Colorado's Garden of the Gods might be lost and passed by unnoticed, so numerous are the greater wonders. The safest way of not being miser able is not to expect to be happy. Look to Royalty for Example. A letter from Rerlin, speaking of the birthday of the empress, says: ‘The empress gave her hand to Prince Wilhelm February 27, 1881, and time has demonstrated that the report which spoke of it as a love match was true in its broadest sense. The Ger mans, on occasions like this, like to remember the words with w:hich Wil helm introduced his consort: ‘Our house of Hohenzollern must furnish the German people an example of all [ virtues, and especially must it furnish a pattern for the sacredness ot family life.’ In anticipation of the birthday the sentence has been often quoted and the qualities of the kaiserin as an ideal hausfrait are always enlarged upon. Her home, he;- husband, her six boys and her daughter have her interest beyond all else, and the peo ple of Germany love her on that ac count.” Put Truth to Use. The greatest homage we can pay to truth is to use it.—Emerson. VISITS WITH QtfMLEBY The Ashes of Death. Charles Dana Knotington, the itiner ant "type sticker,” was weary, hungry ana footsore — but not discour aged. He was a man of many towns, a peregrin ating printer, known from Kala mazoo, Mich., to Butte, Mont. He was not only known of men but his own acquaint ance was wide, varied and rem iniscent. He knew a man who worked with Horace Gree ley and once he had held cases “ 'longside ’o Laz arus" on the Butte Miner. With the “perfesh” he was a man of many ties, typographical and railroad. In fact his knowledge of great editors a n d association with "swifts," was as endless as the railroad ties over which, during a nomadic career, he had passed on the bumpers. Thus it was, in the course of events, he had landed in Podunk and sought the usual employment. But. alas; the deadly machine had shown its head in the "beautiful little city on the Cedar” ami Charles Dana Knot ington had been turned down. The al ley wherein once were heard “the si lent messengers" of the gang as they "clicked, clicked” in the sticks, was no more—the invention of man. with ruthless clank and clang, had usurped the bread and butter of hundreds like Charles Dana K. Having been refused work he asked for a "pan-handle,” but the cruel heart of the editor was petrifying fast, and Knotington turned from the office of the "Podunk Mirror” with sorrow in his very soul. But he was not. discouraged. Had he not successfully combated the stern realities of life innumerable times, and, exultant, rose joyously above the sordid obstacles that barred his printorial way? Aye! aye! in deed ! "It is to think," said Charlie who was a faithful subscriber to the col ored supplement. "It is ten miles to Bumperville and no freight train before midnight." Ere the starry stars burst through the canopy of night he would starve like a common hobo who chalked gate posts and begged for "dookies” ot the kitchen mechanics. "Nay! Nay! Pauline,” he would not let the gnaw of hunger eat at the vitals of his in ner self like a rat chewing an old shoe in the garret. Philosophically Charles Dana Knot ington tapped his forehead with the index finger of his right hand and. sinking down beside a pile of ashes in the back lot of the Mirror office, he pulled from his pocket the “Morning Tribune" and began to read! "Horrible! What's this! ‘Mt. Pelee swallows up a thousand lives!' 'Life is but as candles snuffed out in the twinkling of an eye!' ‘The entire is land buried in a storm of ashes!’ “ASHES!*’ The recumbent form of Charles Dana arose vigorously to a rectangular figure! "Ashes!” he gasped. “Ashe®!'’ ‘•Ha! Ha! Ashes!” In a moment he was gone, but in the dusky shadows of eventide a dark form might have been seen diligently engaged at the ash pile in the alley back of where the "Podunk Mirror” had its abstract being! And in the next issue of the Mirror appeared this notice: “A DASTARD'S WORK!” “A miserable tramp printer of the name of Charlie Knoiington filled sev eral hundred envelopes with ashes and clinkers from some Podunk ash heap last Tuesday evening and sold them to our inhabitants for ten cents each as souvenirs of Mt. Pelee. Hang ing is too good for such hoboes.” But many miles away, like Sheridan. Charles Dana Knotington was calmly smoking a clear sauer-kraut-leaf cigar in the rear of the office of the "Straw berry Point Herald"—and beside him rose, full high, another pile of ashes and clinkers, or Mt. Pelee after the eruption! Rhapsodies. One way to lose your rich relatives is to stay poor. ☆ ☆ ☆ A telephone girl will accept a ring from any old man. ☆ ☆ ☆ That man who comes up on a New York elevator is well brought up. fr ☆ ☆ A man who has been divorced al ways takes especial interest in prob lem plays. ☆ £■ Some people should play on their pianos as they pay for them, in In stallments. ☆ ☆ ☆ Most people start right. What we need in this world is a few more to finish as they started. Improved Mad Dogs. Boston has a hospital for the treat ment of dogs suspected of having rab ies and several cases have been im proved, though the veterinarians do not say they have cured the dogs of hydrophobia. They have merely im proved some dogs suspected of the disease.—Worcester Telegram. Dangerous Job. Next to working in a sawmill, tho most dangerous business is acting as a judge at a baby show.—Chicago Rec ord-Herald.