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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 11, 1915)
SEARCHING FOR OUR LOVE. D my rapt soul! if thou hadst power To choose all blessings earth can give, ts there a better, richer dower Than for her tenderness to live? Come, give the heart the sweet surprise Though ’twere but for a single day. When young men and women begin to make unpleasant remarks about not having found any one to love them and how impossi ble life is when they are unhappy and companion less, I know that they are getting away \ from the truth. I feel like having a good, sound talk with the first down cast young per son 1 run across, and telling him or her of having all the chance im aginable to be loved, courted and married, if the right way was only gone about, as Providence intends. In the first place, they must not start in to think that romances spring up from flirtations, coquetry and a liking from the first devotee that crosses one's path. If the dissatisfied could only get away from this unrea sonable belief, half the way would be clear to search and find the one love that is pleasing and to whom the heart goes out to for a certainty. “I am not quite sure whether I love him or if he truly loves me,” is sel dom on the lips if the hearts are in unison, the right chord touched. More than one secret wish is: The one great boon from heaven I crave is just a portion of true love of my own Give me that devotedly and life would be roseate and. complete with happi ness. Is there any chance of this de votion being fulfilled? is the oft-re peated query. Few Btand in need of the answer If the thinking cap is put on. If a heart would go out to you with won derful lasting love, search must be made from where it is possible to win one. Forget the little crosses that you have had; hope for brightness and that which can bring it to cross your lonely lot. No matter where you have an opportunity to go, start with a pleasant look on your face, light footstep and seek to become ac quainted with the good young people who are there to welcome you. You will have a pleasant hour or two, and many times after you may see the bright faces which beamed into your own while friendship and love won the day at last. Make a promise and keep it, that you will keep devotion’s flame bright for all time. uet me give tne giris a umeiy mm. that earnestly want to marry well: Don't take up with a gay, debonair free lance whom you innocently thought to be just the opposite. You will soon find out his tendencies, and, shorter than it takes to tell it, let him slip past you and persevere pa tiently in searching out a newer, dif ferent type of attraction. The secret is plain. The man who makes a girl's acquaintance while being a stranger to her home folks and biding the past from those who introduce him, sup posing that he is all right, never should make that girl his wife with out undeceiving her as to his wild cats sowing. She knows then wheth er she could put confidence in him in the future or whether he would be apt to lead her a pretty dance and untold heart grief if she took the chance of wedding him. Women who will take their own risks and believe that they can over come any obstacle after marriage, start, after leaving the altar, handi capped. Different might have been fate had they not been easily satis fied but taken time to have searched for a love that they were oonvinced was worthy of their own. SHE WHO IS A PENITENT DE CEIVER. In the year that’s come and gone, in the golden weather. Sweet, my sweet, we swore to keep the watch of life together. In the year that’s coming on. rich in Joy and sorrow— We shall light our lamp and wait life’s mysterious tomorrow. Ought a girl, in your opinion, to de ceive her mother, much as she may dislike doing so, by evading telling her the truth regarding hor meeting a lover? Do yon suppose joch arti fice on her part would make, an inter ested one consider that she would make a good wife, loving aad true, or would she be liable to deceive a husband? This is an earnest appeal from a young man reader. I have no doubt that a young man looking for a girl whom he would marry would want one who loved, honored and was in full confidence with her parent. There should be no excuse of any kind which will palliate the wrongs of a girl de ceiving her parent. The true-hearted, frank girl has no secrets which she does not share. If that mother, who has her interest at heart, does not approve of the man of her choice, be lieve me, she knows best. She sets at work very patiently to win her daughter over to seeing him as she knows him to be. At last she tries hard to consider that it is for the best of her to try to view him as fa vorable as she can. This is often done to keep peace In the famUje The result often follows that they marry in haste and repent at leisure. The girl who is good, affectionate and truthful to her parent will be the same to a husband who is fortunate enough to win her. Love which Is built upon deceit is built upon the, quicksands—and is too treacherous to> last for a long length of time. Only honorable, truthful love proves happy and enduring. What man can trust absolutely the woman whom he , knows is false to the mother who: loves her, has faith in her and con fides in her, hoping for good results? The habit of deceit is a fearful one.i and leads to many a woman’s undoing. One of the poets has said and with much truth: 1 Oh. what a tangled web we weave— when first we practice to deceive. It must not be forgotten, however,: that the lover who seeks advice is sometimes the very one who tempts the girl to meet him and “not tell mother.” A man should be honorable In principle, and not lend himself to' such subterfuge as that of deceiving. Rest assured, he would be apt to hear of it accusingly after marriage, and to be reproached for his guilt. It is cowardly to shift all the blame on the woman. Often she is penitent, and makes up for deceiving by becom ing most truthful. The sweetheart was inclined to deception by her lov er. He respects her penitence, howev er, as does her mother. Both have Wen taught that it is grand to be candid with mother. WHEN BACHELORS MARRY. Sigh no more, ladles, sigh no more. Men were deceivers, ever; One foot in sea and one on shore. To one thing constant-never. I used to be under the impression that very few bachelors would ever marry. But In this respect I have changed my mind. It is my belief that there never yet was a man so sure of his powers for unloving who lived all of his years without some ro mance. He may never have had proof that he had a heart for someone until he was aroused to the consciousness by its sudden loss. Up to that hour of awakening he supposed he was en joying his solitary existence immense ly. There is no one to call his atten tion to his careless appearance when he hustles to his breakfast, with collar and necktie on he had worn for days. No one he would have to answer to if she was in a quarrelsome mood and accused him of plunging at races, ex travagance in automobile treats, whirling through space in airships, and all that she fancied kept pace with his restless nature. The Jolly bachelor is not a mystery to those who observe him, yet only know him from afar—a puzzle as they imagine him to be. More than one suspects that his heart has been pretty well pierced by love’s flaming arrows. Like a public conveyance, there is always supposed to be room for one more. Bachelors have been known to call and have a friendly lit tle chat with former sweethearts once in a great while, but he don’t care to marry any of those who struck his fancy so that he was almost sure he would be happy if he popped the ques tion. After breaking off with a few who claimed his steady attention, he feels that he is not half the gay, sought after man, the would-be “catch" of the fair sex, that he thought himself to be. His opinion of himself has gone down. He takes extra precaution not to show his heart wounds to the un feeling world. He is sure to be watched with pardonable curiosity when he is brought in contact with the single of the fair sex. Habit is everything with the bachelor; from being a free lance, angled for by fair women. More than one pretty parlor he has found irksome, tame, com pared to club, theater of men’s company. Most all bachelors have their pet theories and mental pic tures. Friends and old sweethearts do not always cater to them. It is often, when he comes across some poor, but honest, village or city young woman, that his heart sudden ly warms. She is his personification of innocence. She treats all men sim ply, with pleasantness. It’s hard for them to.tell if she is given to par tiality toward every newcomer. Her eyes are not like those who seek con quests, but have the bewitching un consciousness of girlhood. Is it any wonder that bachelors be come good husbands when they meet Just the one whom their hearts have craved for? Then they Jump to the conclusion that it’s good-by single life, forever. Stutters Even In Kisses. Demosthenes, and other victims of a partially tied tongue, please take no tice. Today, for the first time in its history, the supreme court, where many curious tales have been unfold ed, was asked to take official cogni zance that, because a man stutters, he is not fit matrimonial companion. A bride of a few months asked to have her marriage annulled mainly because her husband has an Impediment in his speech. Married life has been a blun der in two gasps, a lisp and a pro longed stutter, according to the com plainant. But worst of all, declares the plaintiff her husband stutters even in his kisses. Instead of the spon taneous smack, there is a series of short explosions with a few branching fizz pops before Mr. Husband can com plete an osculatory demonstration, she asserts. Worthy of Thanks. A night’s sleep, what a miracle of mercy it is; and a new day and the waking up with health to face it; aye, even a pleasant meal with one’s house hold, is not that worth a thanksgiving? Or, an interesting book, an hour with an old friend, a Sunday’s quiet resting, or some new light of interest or mean ing in one’s favorite line of study— it is such things as these, far more than great special blessings, which make up the sum of the happy fife; and it is such things if one would but think of them more, and not be al ways taking them as a matter of course, which would fill our days with thanksgivings. A Good One. "I don’t know what to name my new hunting horse.” “Why don’t you call him Sensitive? “Why Sensitive?” "Because I notice he so easily take* a fence.” 1 Pattered Simlesl CHAT BY THE WAYSIDE. “People take life much easier than they used to.” “Yep,” replied Farmer Corntossel. “There seems to be a growin’ fear that the boys’ll study too hard an' that the men will work too hard.” “Still, there is every reason to be lieve that popular interest in a pro gressive civilization was never stronger than now.” “Yes. But I'm kind of afraid that civilization will have to watch itself so’s not to be like Lem Carruthers after he got talked into spendin’ all his money fur a fancy wagon. His outfit was all driver an’ no hoss.” Always Humorous. Art Editor—I'm afraid your work is too comic for general illustrating. Artist—I suppose that means I will have to spend the rest of my life doing comic supplements. “Not necessarily. You might design women’s fashions.”—Life. ———————— A Wrong Reading. “Ma, did the men in the old times do the housework?” “Of course not. What makes you :hink so?” "Well, in our Sunday school, the ;eacher was reading about the hus tandman sewing tears.” JUST LIKE SOME PEOPLE. “Rowell is a hard worker.” "Yes—he’d make hard work of any thing.” The Kicker. And still the kicker sings his song, A melancholy elf. It's easier to show what's wrong Than do what’s right yourself. This Didn’t Really Happen. "I won’t wear my new dresses at Atlantic City, after all.” “And after all the money you spent?” "Yes; but you see they’re packed so nicely that 1 hate to take them out of the trunk.” * - Good Reason. “My husband fairly choked with an ger the other day.” “Why?" “Because I wanted him to cough up the price of a diamond ring.” A Suggestion. Young Widow—After all, I cannot wholly grieve that my poor, dear, old husband is gone. Resourceful Friend—Then why not put on half mourning? Filling the Bill. “I want to study, for my hero, a man of fine tendencies.” “Then why not try a police magis trate?” Letter for Letter. “Why does a poet begin so many of his sentences with 'O'?” said the politician. “There’s no answer,” replied Mr. Penwiggle. "Why does a speech maker begin so many of his sentences with T?” Not at That Price. Mrs. Exe—I bought these goldfish for a quarter—think of it! Mrs. Wye—Really? They can’t be any more than plated. Same Denomination. Lady (interviewing girl)—I may tell you that we are vegetarians. Girl (anxious to be hired)—That’s my church, too, mum. His Failing. “That young surgeon carries his profession even into his social hours." “How so?” “He’s such a cut-up.” Malapropos Invitation. “Mrs. Jigger declined very coldly my proposal to her to Join our Shut In society.” “No wonder. Her husband's in Jail." Getting Back. “My cook left this morning merely because I asked her ti> get dinner for a few friends of mine.” "I hired her, my dear, and I don’t mind giving you a chance to get back at her. Bring your friends over to my house for dinner." His Portion. ‘Will you share my portion?” asked the poor young man. “I fear yours is only a half portion,” said the girl gently. “You will need It all for yourself." Thoughtful Worker. “Your son seems to put a great deal of thought into his work.” said the city boarder. “He shore do,” replied the old granger. “He works fer ten minutes er so, then sets deown an’ thinks erbout it fer an hour er more.” A Further Obligation. “That man quit drinking years ago.” “Yes, but ibe reform is not yet com plete. He hasn’t quit bragging about •A •• LAZY THING. "Are you opposed to child labor?" “Yes; especially when the child grows up.” The Curtain Lecture. Most wives are inconsistent When husbands drive them to it; They say: “It's no use talking,” Then go right on and do it. Naturally. "That young speeder’s car has been very much admired.” "Certainly, it has. I know a num ber of people have been struck with it" Making Headway. “Making any progress toward get ting acquainted with those fashionable people next door?” "Just a little. Their cat invited our cat over for a musicale last night." Just the Man for Her. “So you think Katherine made a very suitable match?” “Yes, indeed. You know what a nervous, excitable girl she was? Well, she married a composer.” Accommodating. "That rude fellow told poor little Miss Fllte that he didn’t like her face.” “What did she do?” “She changed countenance." A Reversed Compliment. "That was a splendid paper you read at the club yesterday afternoon." "Did you like it?" "Very much. I wish my husband could write one as good for me.” AN INSTANCE. "She said I was a perfect gentle man.” “She is always calling people names.” Advice From Crimson Gulch. "Let not your angry passions rise. It'b better to act slow an’ tame. Fur seein’ red affects the eyes An’ likes as not will spoil your aim." The Right Place. "Does the law consider a man’s home where he sleeps?” "Yes." “Then my husband ought to register from the church.” Not for the Ear. “Is the music for your new produc tion meritorious?” “I don’t know,” replied the manager. "I haven’t seen the chorus try to dance It, yet.” Changes. “James got down at one time to hard pan.” “But he got up again, didn’t he?” "Oh, yes; up to a Panhard..” The Uncertain Fallowing. A leader marched along and found Himself alone one day, For his procession had turned ’round And marched the other way. Flimsy Finance. "I started in life on borrowed cap! tal,” said Mr. Cassius Chex. “And now you have no debtsvwhat ever?” “On the contrary, I expanded my credit so that 1 could go on borrow ing more and more.” Specifications. "Isn't that a fine line of the poet’s about women being human nature’s daily food?” "Yes, especially when they’re peaches and chickens.” Worse. "Dobs your next-door neighbor wake you in the morning with his lawn mower as he did last year?” “No," answered Mr. Crosslots. “I wish he would. He has bought a new automobile and now he comes honk ing up the street at midnight." Hens In Revolt. “Must be a feminist propaganda go ing on in the barnyard.” “What makes you think that?” “I notice the rooster is scratching for himseU these day a”—Judge. ACTS WAITER TO SEE PRIVATE PLAY Young San Francisco Preacher Serves Soup So Well Friends Don’t Recognize Him. San Francisco.—"He also sees the play who only Berves as waiter." This is a new reading by Rev. Arch Perrin, pastor of the Church of St. Mary the Virgin, who in order to see a play acted as a waiter for mem bers of the Family club on their an nual outing to their “farm" in the foothills out from Redwood City. Men he had married and whose children he had christened didn't rec ognize him. He wore a false mus tache and a waiter’s jacket, -and he dealt soup from the elbow without spilling it and passed unnoticed. The story has only just leaked out among his parishioners. The young pastor was very desirous of seeing Martin V. Merle’s forest play, “The Spirit of Youth,” presented i J . in', ..II ■ i Enlisted With a Band of Extra Waiters. with music by Case Downing in the new open-air theater of the Family club. He was not a member of the club, and invitations were extended only to out-of-town visitors. So Father Perrin enlisted with a band of extra waiters for the dinner preceding the presentation of the play, and passed the evening unde tected. Also, he saw the play he went to see—and liked it. TO RESCUE ON SURFBOARD Officer of Steamship Carries Line to Save Light Tenders From Starvation. San Francisco.—Two light tenders at Po'nt San Lucas, the southerly end of Lower California, were saved from death by starvation recently by L. C. Hansen, first officer of the Pacific Mail Bteamer Newport. Hansen said he would take a line ashore. He rode breaker after break er on a surfboard until he finally was cast up exhausted on the shore. Han sen was unable to move for several minutes and the two lighthouse men were too weak from lack of food to haul on the line that Hansen brought them. After a rest Hansen was able to heave in the line, which brought a double line from the boat, and to this was attached a series of life buoys with the food made fast to them in water tight cans. TOSSED TWICE BY BULL Man Hits Rafters and Starts Up for the Second Time When Rescued. Berwick, Pa.—Tossed to the rafters of the cow stable by an angry bull, R. O. Shaffer, twenty-six, of Zenith, narrowly escaped death before being rescued by his father. When the bull turned on him as he was taking it to a watering trough he landed on the bull's head and after striking the rafters was tossed a sec ond time. The father then seized the rope fastened to the bull’s nose and snubbed the rope around a pole, when it turned on him. His son had two ribs fractured and suffered contused wounds of the body. LEGALLY DEAD, SHE IS ALIVE Lost Woman Turns Up in Illinois Town and Claims Share of Estate. Peoria, 111.—Mrs. Anna Bergheart, who eight weeks ago was declared leg ally dead by County Judge Rahn at Pekin, has now turned up very much alive and has engaged an attorney to regain her share of her father’s es tate, amounting to several thousand dollars. Mrs. Bergheart left her home at Mackinaw, 111., 26 miles from Peoria. 11 years ago after a dispute with rel atives. No trace of her could be found, though she spent the entire period in Chicago. DOG SAVES WOMAN’S LIFE Carries Note Which Brings Help to Aged Woman After Girl Has Died. Dallas, Tex.—A report from Cisco, Tex., tells of the feat which a dog per formed In getting relief to an aged victim of ptomaine poisoning on a farm nine miles from that place. Miss Bettie Alexander, twenty-two years old, had died, and Mrs. Eliza Powers, seventy-two years, was dying when she wrote a note which she tied to the dog’s neck and bade him “go home.” The dog made its way to Cisco through a rainstorm, and rela tives of the victims, hastening to the farm, found Mrs. Powers unconscious. TOMORROW The Girl sank down on the bottom step of the flight that led up to her hall bedroom, and stretched out her hands as if in pleading to some un seen Presence. She did not cry out, nor did the tears come, although her gesture held all there is of pathos in the world. “Today has been so cruel,” she told herself in a voice that had grown so weary through the long hours of an swering useless questions of thought less shoppers that it was little more than a whisper. “You have me,” came a cheerful note from the head of the stairs. Evidently it was familiar to The Girl, for she lifted her head and smiled feebly at the small ethereal figure that appeared to her more like a clear white light than a materializa tion. “Tomorrow!” she whispered. “Yes,” called down the glad young voice. “You always have me, you know, and nobody knows what won derful things I hold in my hand. Why, often I change the whole outlook of a human life.” “But,” objected The Girl, "today has been so cruel.” “Today is often cruel, but I am never so. Put your trust in me,” an swered Tomorrow, and there was so much of promise in his voice that The Girl gathered her frayed pocketbook and shabby muff from the step upon which they had fallen, rid herself of some of the weariness of her over taxed body in a long sigh, and lifted her face toward the figure at the head of the stairs. And when she had gained the top of the flight the Presence had floated away to another vantage point, as was always the way when she tried to reach him and grasp the promise that he held out to her. “Sometimes I think you are Just "Who are you?’’ he questioned anx- : iously, "and what do you mean by in- E truding at such a time?” I "I am Tomorrow,” called the voice* and The Man grasped the hope that 1 came with the tone and hugged it close. “Why, yes,” he said, “I had forgot ten about Tomorrow. I was so close ly companioned by Today that I had quite overlooked you.” Whereupon the iridescent figure of ■ the day yet to be born danced gayly ~ before The Mail’s eyes, and from a ■ distance held out hands that brimmed with wonderful, beautiful hope. | "I am going,” called Today weakly. And The Man, turning to his dy ing companion, told him that when hd went he would go alone. "For,” he said, "I have Tomorrow.* The-Sick-a-Bed Lady was so very ill that the doctors said she could not possibly live. "You will go out into the Great Un known with me at the setting of the sun," said Today, as he stood beside her bed, and The Sick-a-Bed-LadjJ would have held out her hand to him* had not she been stayed by a wonder-1 ful, radiant Presence near. Lifting her eyes she looked upon ft I face that held all the gladness of * the dawn, and was afraid, because in all her life she had seen nothing bo wondrous fair. "Be not afraid, WHATEVER | THINGS ARE BELIEVED ARB ; TRUE. I am Tomorrow, and in my hands I hold the gift of life and of health. You have but to believe.” The heart of The-Sick-a-Bed-Lady gave a bound of happiness, for she was a mother, and the little feet that came and went down the hall on tip toe needed he: guidance above every thing else in the world, and witli all | her being she yearned to believe the words that came to her ear. Then it was that The-Sick-a-Bed • i -^ “Sometimes I Think You Are Just a Poor, Cheap Fraud.” a poor, cheap fraud,” The Girl called to him, but he smiled back at her from his distance, and the smile as suaged the pain at her heart, and brought new hope to her cheerless life “Tomorrow!” she said, half to the Presence and half to herself. "Ah, if it were not for the faith and the hope 1 have in Tomorrow I could never go on.” Through innumerable unwise moves The Man's business had got into such a terrible mess that there seemed no extrication from it He sat alone in his office at the close of a winter s day, and beside him sat i.he Spirit of Today. “What a loathsome creature you are,” said The Man to his compan ion. "I am what you made me,” an swered Today, reproachfully. ’ “And within the hour I die,” con tinued the dejected Spirit. “Then,” said The Man, “1 will die with you. It is a good suggestion. I have made a mess of my life, and most of all of you. You were good to me at the dawn, but now that twi , light gathers, I see that it is all my fault. I have ruined you. We will go out together.” So The Man put his affairs quickly in order while Today reminded him that the evening shadows were length ening, and that if he was to die with him he would have to hurry. “I am getting weak—I am dying," whispered Today to The Man. “Just a moment,” answered The Man. And while he hesitated there came to his consciousness a strange Im pression. At first it seemed like a message expressed through some me dium other than words. Then distinct ly it assumed sound. “There is always Tomorrow and the possibilities it holds,” came the words clearly to The Man’s ear. _v . - - Lady summoned the very essence of her being and demanded of it belief in the promise of Tomorrow. Turning to The Husband she gave him a tender smile, and because she was too weak, she merely nodded to^ ward the precious Presence standing afar oil holding out his hands that were brimming full of life and health if only The-Sick-a-Bed-Lady would be lieve. And when she awakened from her wonderful sleep Today had slipped out of being—alone—and the doctors said that somehow a miracle had been wrought and that The-Sick-a-Bed-Lady would live. Whereupon The-Sick-a-Bed-Lady an swered back with a smile that she had only ‘‘believed in Tomorrow.” Destroying Germs. Chemists employed by hospitals have found that disease germs dla quickly on certain building materials. It has been found by the tests made that the strongest or most resistant germs perish within a day when placed on the surface of linoleum. This is due to the large quantity of linseed oil used with the cork in mak] ing linoleum. Tests have also showi^ that it is the use of linseed oil as ai binding medium which gives to many] wall paints their claim of being effec tive for hospital use. It is claimed that as the oil leaves the paints they lose their powers of sterilization. No Rivalry. A visitor was being shown over a. big cotton mill by the proprietor, whd proudly displayed some of the fabrloa produced. Holding up a piece of print] ed calico, he said: “Our latest pattern.! Excellent work, isn’t it?” "Ife all right," said the visitor, “but you can’t; hold a candle to the goods we turn out] In my works!" "Same line?" asked the host, somewhat offended. “No," re joined the other; “ours is gunpowder I**]