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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (March 31, 1910)
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U rge as n ‘ « »W bw* nr ware i,„.tless which * »s- -•- st FT-.bb—a pearl of td carat. Again ,kr** *. * * * owe of T7 5-K carat. T ^ CTWW" witch is rained *»= * * ~ other pub hawser, of drafted ► J* «3 i tsroea parti, and cd Ute.-e the 4* great S-rthrrn Crons which fcrr- I t* tme hramrfn* pure white lustrous * Us. nat -n r Uemt* m *,«. ^ope of n cross. * ."A ia length. fr, rhwh yucr offer nauld Mart at f>. *f t<» nMnf to hwy tu T * ** * *»» Mrtd “f women with p***.. the * 1 t ’ttml adL. u i-'ra'xn yearly prt. •*** * ~ *‘*rry.- cetera, mag w tether or not It rfawiC te b id by ramulwa and a sample ***** fTt** *-v W»««c«t baths Then if the *“* ^ vhw Is « charge declares that ,tr‘- t*r-U* i oysiecr warrants a fish err. the *•- *» * » - te 1-sMatrr *.r>.*ach the eant and the *' -» '-f t-'ast «cvm. c-joje-v mere bants, pear l **-*•' a*5d rpf-.-wlatcirr osec an fast ns •hey can * Cc c' ftaar Ac cerate n=d oriental “*M Ah »f*t n Pauh- Almost m if br maj-b n t en of «t>.em> xhahhasts arisen out «' ti. ne I ihere as no magic about It. for the * «« of be lm are easQy bailL A rough framew r* «f tree tranche, h formed and over ** ** '*'• *•*»• we pot the mats known as «=-«Jaw—torss^d «f the woven leaves of the ~>~m mat wr «k Mb. Mb there are ah. am pre 1 erected far the aae of the gor _ ■*•<*** w*»fei. HKfci. hamltai. «ow*t he-aae. wnBe there are streeta. lanes, street - -■Mb «f the eaww. oagatde of the the dicers, and they disdain to Bo their own servants, id k ep an eye on the the ffsh:ag fleet nets out. some an of them carrying as maty aniloes aad hangern ■_ the diver flMafl Ml . Maws a tang Meath, steps on t the henry stone hung hy a rope, and in plunged — I cmOm^OCSgf : WZV~&10>!2OS2 A'y~ W C*Z4S~<ttT Gr* S C&ZmFjr^ jifcenson. gives some iu'trestiu*; fig ures about the number of nurses and doctors in the Orient. "There are probably." he says, "cot more than 100 nurses in the entire missionary world and there 80.000,000 people in non-Christian lands who have no med ical aid except missionary psvsicians. All Christenclum has sent out only 080 medical missionaries, male or fe male. and this body maintains 348 hospitals 07 leper asylums and 21 classes for native women. "One physician who had no nurse to help him treated 18.000 cases iu a year. So you see that the supply of trained medical assistance is wofully inadequate. "In Calcutta, which has the best facilities i'i the Orient, three-fifths of the population die without any doctor r otht'r ttained medical assistance in their final illness. In China there U? 1 :.■> u;,ea<i:.r.? t,( tt-.^ bottom, seven or eight „elo* Filling his basket rapidly, he is drawn up and repeats the operation as often as :>e can About two in the afternoon the government E’.iiilioat fires a gun and the fleet sets sail back As there are no wharves, the oysters are carried on shore and deposited in the •kottu" by the strong tiorters. As soon as the shells are depos ited they are counted, two-thirds going to the government as their share, the other one-third going to the boat which brings them in At sun s * the sh-Us are auctioned by the thousand, and ?!: -re is tierce competition, for who knows what the In" cry of chance may bring them in pearls. The oysters brought are then removed apart by each buyer and placed in his compound, where they are carefully guarded till the sun beats upon them, putrefaction sets in and the oyster begins to disgorge its treasure. Then the malodorous contents of the shell are washed in vats and the residue yields- my lady's pearls. W ben a Buddhist prays he implores his god that when he dies he shall not be cursed by be ing horn again as a woman or as vermin. That is the attitude of the native men of India toward women and against which the missionaries in the Orient air directing all their energy. Dr Eleanor Stephenson, a Brooklyn woman vbo has been practicing medicine in India for three years and who will return to her work there soon, makes an appeal to American women to go out there, the New York Evening Telegram cays. “1 want the women here to realise what it mean; to be born in America," she said recently. "To be born where a woman is the backbone of the man. his strength and help in every way! Why. out in Ahmednagar. where my work is. a woman u no more than an animal. She is for the purpose of raising children and that is all A man thinks more of bis caw—if he is lucky enough to have one—than he does of his wife. “A Hindoo husband will let his wife die before be will call in a man to give her medical or sur gical treatment. That shows the need for women physicians in the Orient." ^ In Ahmednagar. which is aa inland plateau •bout a hundred miles from Bombay, there are two physicians. Dr. Ruth Home and Dr. Stephen son. and one American trained nurse. Miss John son. Coder Mias Johnson there are 14 native women who have had some slight training -and these hetp with the nursing. In the mission hos ***** ***** ***■ toitol of women run 15.OOP pnovio were treated last year, an average of 41 a day. These folk have come from a radius of fsr^aro011*^ "°™e spectaI ***” h*T* The Rev. Aiden H. Clark, who Is aa educa tioaal missionary at the same place as Dr. St* is probably one American or European trained doc tor to every million and a half of people. In the I'nited States there are 160.000 physicians and 22. 000 nurses, an average of one physician to every .‘•50 people."’ “Of course we do a great deal of actual nurs ing and that is most Important,” i>r. Stephenson says, "but another thing, which is even bigger, is this: We show women who have thought them selves wholly unloved that some one cares for them. They know that there is a very small money consideration given us and that what we do is done for love. So they love us. "When I see woman physicians struggling for a living here and know what a field there is in India. 1 feei as though they must be told. "The kind of work I have been doing is a ter rific appeal to the sympathies. We have to respect caste, which makes nearly all of our cases long standing. One woman whom I treated eame to me with her entire arm in a gangrenous condition. She had pricked her finger seven months before, at the time of her husband’s death. On account of her caste she could not so much as leave the house for the seven months, during which time septicemia set in and went up as far as her shoul der 1 told her that her arm would have to be am putated. She refused absolutely to part with it. and died as a result. "Another woman burned her knee and turned up at the hospital five months later with that part of her leg in terrible condition. The leg was cut off and the woman made a perfect recovery. “I went many miles Into the interior to see an injured woman. She had fallen down a well and was fearfully bruised all over. I found her lying on the floor grinding corn, every turn of her arm causing the most intense agony. She couldn’t boar to have me even touch her. she was suffering so. I told her husband she had to be taken to the hospital or she would die and he asked who would cook the bread if she were gone. He refused to allow her to go. A11 I could do was to leave a little medicine." Dr. Stephenson finds that the natives invariably prefer using ointments to clean dressings. Women come in large numbers to get ointments for raw sores where their husbands have beaten and cut them and they are full of gratitude to the doctor. She finds that those of high class are just as bru tally treated and just as grateful as the lowest. “Transmigration is one of the strongest beliefs in India.” she says, “and on that account the people wUl not kill any hnimal. not even a flea. As a result the poor homes are overrun with bedbugs and other vermin, which spread all sorts of fevers and diseases. "And another of their ideas is that we don't know anything about raising babies. Hindoo mothers, without exception, give opium to their babies to make them sleep white they work in the fields. As a result a large pioportion of the little Hindoo babies die before they are a year old. Most of the work among the natives is surgical and the obstetric cases are the most interesting. This is because the natives have medicines of their own. but know nothing of the use of the knife.” Able to Foresee Events ~ coring ctmi cut tMrt icJer*-" or that there I til m*M} 1 ” t>—* to Harr? Watt, t I ' <A the Ufcisl. .r«ew police jui'^Bortti—5 to the r*hi1»a» 'phli patroL Itxwas ready in n few min-1 ■ten and was only In waiting abouti tan seconds when there was a rumble and roar in the direction of the Wayne street bridge that crosses the Fort Richmond branch of the Phila delphia £ Reading tailway. The pa trol wm away in a it*y. and when it ranched that paint it was soon found that at ct the new kind oT camel jjafk^ngtoes^oe the Philadelphia £ SdmHkd mKgheK^ Another that people get an Idea of what's sein ing is this: Everytlhng was quiet in the district ior weeks during one period, and the patrolmen were long ing for a run. I said keep still, you will toon have one. In a little while all hands were greeted by the sound of an explosion. A big boiler on the second floor of Mercer's mill on Broad street, above Lehigh avenue, exploded and blew the structure to pieces. I could recite ether instances when I thought we were to have more that the routine work and we had tt-~ • RamblesL in Ireland By Sammaa Mac Menus J In Kickh&m’s Country •CuyyU^i.l, *iKU. b\ W. U Ciapuutu.) The loveliest, most beloved of Irish writers—the one that best knew our people, and felt for. and felt w ith, our people, and who accordingly found their hearts—was undoubtedly Charles Kickham; and his beautiful novel of homely Irish life, "Knocknagow, or i the Homes of Tipperary," is the most dearly-prized story in Ireland. Finding myself in the south of Ire land 1 must needs make pilgrimage to i the Kickham country. And that was why. on a beautiful Svaday afternoon of May. I bowled along a road, pass ing a half-acre field which is popu larly supposed to be in no county, though three counties run up to its , three fences. The sight of a big, bare, i gaunt building, with roof broken and windowless, grinning like a death's head at the passer-by, soon afterwards arrested my career. “What is it?" I asked of a country boy. " 'Tis a house, sir. that was built by a chap from America five-and twenty Tears ago." “And did he desert it?” “Faith, he had to!" “Why?” “Well, he built the house upon gen tle (fairy t ground, and from the day the roof went on it, it was crammed full o' thim lads.” He accompanied1 the reference to “thim lads” with a! jerk of his thumb over shoulder. "An' they neither give him paice, night nor i day." --\na ne went duck to America again V "No. then—he went to the divil.” Mullinahone. a quiet, ou.-of-the-world village where Charles Kickhaui spent almost all his life, was entered by a street t hat presented the appearance of having had all haunted houses, for most of them were roofless, and all of them wiudowless. presenting a most melancholy appearance. All the house owners on this street I found, later, had been evicted al most a quarter of a century ago, be cause. In the Land league days, mak ing a bold stand for the sake of other than themselves, they gave their ad herence to the “No Rent” manifesto, adopting the plan of campaign, they were summarily bundled out by the landlord and their houses wrecked. I spoke to one of them who. fortune fa voring. had managed to acquire a shop in another part of the village and to prosper again. Ho told me that almos' all of the evicted tenants were still living, or trying to live, in or around Mullinahone. and were expect ing soon to be reinstated in their property, and to resume the happy life they had known ere. for principle's sake, they were cast upon the world. These brave fellows, and many an other band like them in other parts of Ireland, are crippled heroes of the land war. It was their readiness to sacrifice themselves, and their aetual sacrifice, which, an object lesson t*> the landlords of Ireland, showed them what the Irish tenants were prepared ; to do—brought landlords to thei,* knees, and saved tens of thousands, aye. hundreds of thousands of their rackrented fellows throughout the land. It was their action, too. that forced from the Rritish government 1 rresh land acts and left their happier i i el lows In easier and cheaper possea ■ sion of the land. These evicted ten-1 ants—bands of whom are to be found j in various part of Ireland—nobly staked their all in defense of the cause —and lost. Yet they suffered, and i suffered in silence like the brave men they were, and it was their triumph to see that though they lost, all Ire land won. “Is it do 1 know Charlie Kick?" said : a young man upon the street to whom j 1 put a question. "Well." reflectively, with a loving shake of his head. "I think I did. Tis many's the time when I was a little bare-footed gor soon. mesclf an' the other little lads, when "we were playing hide-and-seek, would go in and out under the table he was writin' on in the garden.” His eye kindled when he heard from mv lips the name beloved. And I observed the same when I mentioned Kick ham's name to any other of the vil | lagers. Howsoever indifferent they ; might be in answering questions on other subjects. I had hut to mention Kickhant and they opened their hearts ! to me. When I went to the chapel-vard to visit the grave of the poet and novel ist 1 was followed by a few of his old Tenian comrades and disciples who had got wind that a stranger, much interested in "Charlie Kick.” had ar rived in the village. They shook me warmly by the hand, and one of them whose head was frosted by TO win ters and more, but who was still of erect carriage and bright eye, showed plainly that his heart glowed, since a stranger had journeyed from afar to pay homage to the memory of his hero and leader. These men took oft their hats and knelt by the graveside with me and prayed still another prayer for him whom they had honored and loved—him who, his hopes for Ireland unfulfilled, his yearnings unsatisfied, his long and trying struggle uncrown ed with success, at length laid his bones to moulder under this green sod. These men. who now put up to God a prayer above his grave, had taken from'Charles Kickham tue oath to answer their country's call, and were to have stood side by side with him in the gap of danger when free dom's tocsin sounded the call to arms. But ere their fond dream could be ac complished they were fated to see their hero claimed, first by a British prison and then by death. As I looked up to the Celtic cross •hat was reared above the patriot's grave I noticed some straws sticking out from the circle which bound the arms. and. climbing aloft to satisfy myself, discovered that there a black bird had built a nest in which two lovely black-spoued. green eggs lay innocently, it touched me to find that the beautiful songster of our glens had reposed her fondest trust thus in the arm of the dead patriot's cross. And I instantly recalled, loo, that charming incident in his most charm ing novel, where “Wattletoes" wheed les the slice of plumcake from Willie Kearney by dangling before him the prospect of being shown “a tlirishe's nest with five young wans—feathered an' all," when Christinas snows were on the ground. The blackbird that buili her nest and laid Iter eggs above Charles Kickham's grave did him a greater honor even than the loved ones who lifted over him the beautiful cn s i was curiously reminded of our old iTe mi "Wattletoes,” when a lady, who spoke with affection of Kiekhara and of Mullinahonc—a Kilkenny woman— told me an incident that happened in her youth. A simple herd boy of her rate ts. who liaded fror.5 Mullinahone. pr. -nted himself for confirmation at the parish chapel, hut the poor boy iur.de snch a hopelessly had showing when tested on his religious knowl edg that Father Mat. impatiently jumping from his seat cried out: "Is there a God at ail in Mullinahone?" To which the poor boy. anxious to be as accommodating as invisible, meek ly and sincerely replied: "No. your reverence, there isn't any." The reply would have done credit to "W attletoes" Apropos of the same subject—if I may still wander—1 can not forbear setting down here a more reei jit confirmation story which 1 then heard, aud v.iiicb was also truly Wattletoes like: "llilly Kirwan," said Father Tom, quoting a question from "The Prin ciples of Ohristiau Doctrine," on w hich he was examining the class, "what is th<’ first thing you should do upon ris ing in the morning?" "Tackle the donkey, father," replied Billy, "an' drive to the craimery" l strolled through the few streets of Mullinahone, a quiet, lovely, home ly village, where one might easily pic ture all the fun aud all the sympathy, and all the warm-heartedness of Kick ham's "Knocknagow" still flourishing in the breasts of this kindly people. 1 went through Kickham's old house, now inhabited by a Mr. Norton, one of the evicted tenants referred to, and one w ho very kindly showed me about and told me of Kickham's haunts and habits. 1 sat by the freside where the gentle poet and hot revolutionist hat! had his eyesight impaired, and t*r more seriously, his bear!**, by a P°w der explosion: and I walked ia the garden where the novelist had walked, as he thought out his plots: and I sat in the shady bower where he had sat while he penned them: and I journeyed to the three ash trees be yond the town to which Kickham journeyed every evening: and 1 **t in the fork of the trees where he was wont to sit in meditation. The white-haired tailor, who lived opposite to Charles Kickham s house, hearing that an admirer of Charlie s had come to town, sent me pressing messages to come and see him. all impatient to talk of his old friend whom he loved and admired. When i visited him he particularly pressed upon me in order that l might take a. copy from it a fad'd portrait of the patriot which had been presented to him by the patriot's brother On hi^ hero's shining qualities the old tailor lovingly dwelt, while the moist ghaut of sorrow shone in his eye. ■ To the poor of MuHinahone Charles Kickham and ail the Kickham fatally were charitable in remarkable de gree. giving them food, clothing, money—their own clothes, while still they* were unworn. Charles Kick ham's father was an anti-emigration ist. "Stay at home.” he would say to the MuHinahone hoy who came to bid him good-bye. "Stay at home and I'll find something for you to do. Maybe." he would add significantly. "Ireland will need you soon!" All the Kickhams bravely strov-' to bring nigh the hour when Ireland should call to them and all her sons to give for her their lives. All of "the Kicks" were equally patriotic, but Charles, the idol, was able to give his patriotism undying expression. He was. and is, a prophet in his own country, and in remote corners of Ire land: end. indeed, in far corners of the world wherever exiled Irishmen rave strayed, hearts bout that know tnid love him well and fondly as do those dear ones in his own beloved MuHinahone. When his lawyer announced to the Felon Kickham in the dock of Green street courthouse, on the evening of a dark January day of '66. that the no torious Judge Kehoe had just ordered him 14 years' penal servitude for the crime of loyalty to his country and disloyalty to his country's enemies, it is recorded that he heard the sen tence with a smile. On being after wards asked what he missed most ia Jail. Kickham replied: "Children, sad women, and fires." rauier .u;u Kusseti tens n.t \ vore fond ho w&s of little children at d how well ho know to win their hearts. He quotes one of Kiekh.atr s ir.timr.te friends ns saying: "It delighted hi t', when the little ones tried to talk to him on their Sneers, and ho was '<* patient in t -aching them." Children who loved him were play tog about his feet in the sunshine when the strode of paralysis fell or. hint. This tes t irony agrees well with that c> Martin roister, who had told me hew th> table in the garden on which the no* eiist was writing had often served him as a covering in the game of hide and-seek. Father Russell tells us how that, at the Ihibiiu exhibition in 'iH. Klckham lingered long before a paint ing—"The Head of a Cow." by one of the old masters—not on account of any subtle genius he discovered in it. but “because it w as so like an old cow in Mullinahone." Seif-revealed in that one iittle sentence stands the lover, poet, and patriot. Charles Ktckham —may whose soul rest in the garden of God! A PRIMER LESSON By 0CHWART2. THE MEAN MAN Man. Mud Pud-dle. La-dy. Sec the Man. See the La-dy. And oh. see the Mud PudMle W > * does not the Zob lav his Coat down so the ia-dy can step on it ? IV cause his Name is jinks and not Sir W alter Raleigh. And then too he has just coughed up 15 Bucks tor the W rap-por and he has on iv a Plugged Beer Check left. And Mr. Jinks knows that he can no buy an-oth-er Coat with the Plugged Beer Cheek. So he lets ;‘>r La-dy Swim. Mr. Jinks is a Mean Man. Children should al-ways throw their Coats in-to a Mud Pud dle when they see a La My. EAT GINGER IN THE MORNING ■..... 1 Said to So Pleasant Means of Putting Bad Tempered People in an Amiable Mood. Always eat ginger in the morning. That is the newly discovered cure for the got-out-of-bed-on-the-wrong-side feeling that afflicts so many men in the morning. •For many years." a correspondent writes. “I have been the victim of my own ungovernable temper and have hcver been able to get myself amiable before lunchtime Recently a friend presented me with a jar of preserved ginger and my good fairy suggested to me that it would be nice as a relish at breakfast in place of marmalade. “Since I have been taking it my frame of mind in the morning has rapidly improved and now I am able to start the day as cheerily as a typical countr. farmer. Ia it the ginger that has worked this cure?" A well-known doctor said that if people would only eat ginger at break fast their health would Improve In many resjxx'ts and they would start the day much readier for work than they do now. , "Ginger.” be said, "contains an es sential oil which acts as a tine nerve tonic. It promotes digestion, is an excellent stomach tonic and is ex tremely good for the liver "The liver is the organ which mal ps people so morose tn the rnorn ] in*. Until it has been well stirred up by the day's work it is in a lethargic condition, and frequently the brain is in the same state, for its blood supply is not right. "Now if people who experience these symptoms would only take I plenty of ginger at breakfast their livers would act properly and their digestion would improve to an extent they cannot realiie until tfcev try the cure Thev would go to business in a normal state of temper "I nm perfectly certain that if more ginger were eaten the world wonld he a very much better place to live in for nine-tenths of the people who are ' >k>w mbtankte until thev have 1 r owt 14 *^r sterns *ot»W then be a, JoHy and br-gh: in the rooming as they are at an oenit* party non " Such Orearvs I *11 beginning to believe that there Is something in the claim that dreams gu Igv contrary's.' says Ralph ; Martin, the railroad roan. "The other night I dreamed that ; found a SvedoUar bill and the next fn'' * ' somewhere between h«‘ llolSenden and the hake Share "The Rest night I dreamed that 1 bad been hurt and that an aeeid. *t> , insurance company's agent was h*-d. ' ng me When I got down to the 'dfce 1 found on my desk notice fr™, this company that my annual $2;, Ss. sessment was due and unpaid "A night or two laier I drear ,*d tuat a roan a ho had borrowed $jti from me a year ago was paying mt. tack and may I never eat ng** it the chap who borrowed the $i« didn't meet roe on the street next day and make another touch."—Cleveland Press. \