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About Valentine Democrat. (Valentine, Neb.) 1900-1930 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 25, 1909)
, 0 . . r - - - I i . Th liedemptiotl i --j S . . . . ' . EL avtd . OfSOft " : ' t' , ' ; " By CHARLES FREDERIC I ' G OSS I J , . . Copyrieht , 1900. ( ) ( by Th ! : IJoxvcn-Merrill ; Comiiany. All Rights Reserved _ . A . . . -no. . . . . . - - - - " ' " . . . . . . . CHAPTER XV. I , . * .vDuring ! several months of loneliness fend sorrow a great change had been I _ staking place in the mind of Pepeeta , of + , which she was only vaguely conscious. The strain which she had been under- 9 I t going began at last to exhaust her ' , ' ' ' physically. - . Her vital force became depleted , her step grew feeble , the light died out of her eyes , she drooped and crept 1 feebly about her room. Tlje determl- - . . ( nation which she had so resolutely maintained to live apart slowly ebbed away. She was , after all , a woman , "net a disembodied spirit , and her wom- un'sf heart yearned unquenchably for the touch of her lover's hand , for the kisses of his lips , for the comfort of 3i/s presence. This longing- increased with every passing hour. Fatigue , weariness , t r loneliness steadily , undermined her still struggling resistance-to : those hun- tterings which never left her , till at last , when the failing resources of her nature were at their lowest point , all } her remaining strength was concen- ' trated , into a single passionate desire t to look once more upon the face which glowed forever before her inner eye , or at least to discover what had befallen in his sin and wretchedness. It was a long and tedious journey 1 from New Orleans to Cincinnati in those days , and it told terribly upon t the weaked constitution of the way- farer. Her heart beat too violently In , her bosom ; ' a fierce fever began to -burn in her veins ; ; she trembled with terror lest her strength fail her before she reached her journey's end. It was not of Death himself that she was afraid ; but that he should overtake iier before she had seen her lover ! Husbanding her strength as ship- . wrecked sailors save their bread and I water , she counted the days and the miles to the journey's end , and hav- ing arrived at the wharf of the Queen City , the pale young traveler who had excited the compassion of the passen- gers , "but who would neither comuni- cate the secret of her sorrow nor ac cept of any aid , took her little bundle In her thin hand and started off on the last stage of her weary pilgrimage. It was "the hardest of all , for her mon- ey was exhausted and there was noth- ing for her to do but walk. It was a cold December day. Gray clouds lowered , wintry winds began to moan , and she had-proceeded but a lit- tel way when light flakes of snow be- . ' 'gan to ' fall. ) The chill penetrated Tier thin clothing and shook her fragile " orm. : She moved more like a wraith than a living woman. Her tired feet left such slight impressions In the , snow that , the feathery flakes obliter- ated one almost before she had made . , another , and she was haunted by the , . . . . ' thought that every trace of her' pas t. sage through life was thus to disap- pear ! - \ Ignorant of the distance or the exact direction , and stopping occasionally to ' Inquire the way , she plodded on , the exhaustion of hunger and weariness becoming more and more unendurable. " All , that she did now was done by the , sheer force of will ; but yield she . would not. She would die cheerfully when she had attained her object , but not before. The winds became more wild and"boisterous ; they loosened and tossed her black hair about. her wan face ; they beat against her person and drove her back. Every step 'seemed the last one possible ; but suddenly , just as she descended the slope of ' a steep hill , she saw the twinkling lights , of the village and the feeble rays shot nejv courage into her heart. Under this accession of power she pushed forward and made her way toward the * old Quaker homestead. The night had now deepened around . her ; but every foot of the landscape had been Indelibly impressed upon her . -memory , and even In the gathering ; , ' .gloom she chose the road unerringly. There were only a few steps more ' , , and reeling toward the door yard fence she felt her way to the gate , opened , it , staggered forward up the path in the rays of light that struggled out Into the darkness , and with one final effort fell fainting upon the threshold. The scene within the house present- ! d a striking contrast to that without. In a great open fireplace the flames of " the beech logs were wavering up the chimney. Seated fin the radiance of their light , on a low stool , was a young . boy with his elbows upon his knees and his cheeks in the palms of his ( hands. His mother sat by his side stroking his hair and gazing at him . In fond , brooding love. The father was bending over a , Bible lying open on the table , and had just articulated In slow and reverent tones the words of . Jesus , "I was a'stranger and ye took me in , " when they heard a sound at D ' . the .door. i Father , mother and son sprang to . .heir feet and , hurrying towards the ' . . , Jjdor , flung it open and beheld a wom- - an's limp form lyingon the threshold. _ It was but a child's weight to the stalwart Quaker who picked it up in , his great arms and carried it into the f . radiance of the great fireplace , and in an instant he and Dorothea his wife were pushing forward the work of restoration. The little boy stood gaz- - ing wonderingly at her from a dis- tance. The calm features of the Qua-1 _ ker were agitated with emoti n. His y wife knelt by th'e side of the pale ( sleeper , and her tears dropped silently on the hand which she pressed to her , , . . hs. . . g ' m , L' . . . . For many days Pepeeta's life hung in the balance , her spirit hovering un- certainly along the border land of be- ing , and it was only love that wooed It-vback to life. When at length , through careful . " . . Murelng , * b . really regained . , htr em * \ ssx . JL * - _ _ - . , , . . . - , e \ 4 * % * * ; r ; : : ; ; ; sciousness and came , up from those unfathomable . abysses where she had been wandering , she opened her eyes upon the walls of a little chamber tha looked out through an alcove into the living room of the Quaker house. The silence was suddenly broken by a voice feeble and tremulous , but very musical and sweet. It was Per eta , who gazed around her in bewil } er- ment and asked in vague alarm , "Where am I ? " Dorothea was by her side in an in- t stant , and taking the thin fingers in her strong hands , replied : "Thee is among friends. " Pepeeta looked long into the calm face above her gatl/ere'cl , and reassur- * ance ; but her memory did not at once return. "Have , I ever been in this place be - fore ? Have I ever seen your face ? ! Has something dread ( dl happened ? Tell me , " she entreated , gaving with agitation into the calm eyes that look- ed down into hers. "I cannot tell thee whether thee has : ; ever seen us before , but we haye seen thee so much for a few days that we feel like old friends , " said Dorothea . , pressing the hand she held , and smil , ing. Pepeeta's eyes wandered about the room restlessly for a moment , and then some dim remembrance of the past came back. "Did I come here in a great storm ? " she asked. "Thee did , indeed. The night was wild and cold. " . . \ "Did I fall on the threshold ? " "Upon the very threshold , and let us thank God for that , because if thee had fallen at the gate or "in the path we should never have heard thee. " Pepeeta struggled to a sitting pos- ' ture as her memory clarified , fixed her wide open eyes upon Dorothea and asked , pathetically , "Where is he ? " "I do not know who thee means , " said Dorothea , laying her hand on the invalid's shoulders and trying gently -to push her back upon her pillow. "Da Yid ! " -she- exclaimed , "David. Tell me if you ; know , for it seems ' - to' me I shall die if I do not hear. " ' "I do not know , my love. It is a long time since we have heard from David. But thee must lie do vn. Thee is not strong enough to talk. "Are we alone ? " "Yes , all alone. " "Well , thenI I will begin , " Pepeeta said , and in a voice choked with emo- tion , the poor sufferer breathed out the tale of her sin and her sorrow. She told all. She did not shield her- self , and everywhere she could she softened the wrong done by David. It was a long story , and wrfs interrupted only by the ticking of the great clock in the hall-way , telling off the mo- ments with as little concern as when three , years before it had listened to the story told to David by his mother. When the confession was ended the tender-hearted woman kissed the 'quiv- ering lips. "Have you forgiven me ? " Pepeeta asked , seizing the face in her thin hands and looking almo"st despairingly into the great blue eyes. "As I hope to be forgiven , " Dorothea answered , kissing her again and again. A look of almost perfect happiness diffused Itself over the pale counten- ance. "It is too much-too much. How can it be ? It was such a great wrong ! " she exclaimed. "Yes , it was a great wrong. Thee has sinned much , but much shall be forgiven if thee is penitent , and I think thee is. No love nor pardon should be withheld from those who mourn their sins. Our God is love ! And so we are Ignorant and frail It is a sad story , as thee says , but it is bet- ter to be led astray by our good pas- sions that by our bad. I have noticed that it is sometimes by our holiest in- stincts that we are betrayed into our darkest sins ! It was heaven's bright est light-the light of ' love-that led thee astray , my child , and even love may not be followed with , closed eyes ! But thee does not need to be preached to. " Astonished at such an almost divine insight and compassion , Pepeeta ex claimed , "How came you to know so much of the tragedy' human life , so much of the soul's weakness and guilt ; you who have lived so quietly in this ' happy home ? " "By consulting my own heart , dear. We do not differ in ourselves so much1 as in our cxperiencesand temptations. But thee has talked enough about thy troubles. , Tell me thy name ? What shall we call thee ? " "My name is Pepeeta. " "And mine is Dorothea. " "Oh ! Dorothea , " Pepeeta exclaimed "do you think we shall ever see him again ? " "I cannot tell. , We had made many inquiries and given up in despair. And now when we least expected news , thee has come ! We will cherish hope again. We were discouraged too eas- ily. " - "Oh ! how strong you are-how com- forting. Yes , we will cherish ' hope , and when I am well I will start out , and search for him everywhere. I shall find him. My : heart tells me so. " . : 'But thee is not well enough , yet , " Dorothea said , with a kind smile , "and until thee is , thee must be at rest in thy soul and , abiding here with us , await the revelation . of the divine will. " - "Oh , may I stay a little while ? It is so quiet and restful here. I feel like a tired bird that has found a refuge from a storm. JBut what will your husband say , when he hears thi . story ? " . "Thee need not be troubled about tba , Hi * dosr ana btart ar * vw . . . i . . , " . " .J , ' , " - . r" " . . . ' . I "I. . . . . , # I open to those , * who labor " and are heavy laden. The , GiratRhas ; : found a faith' : ful follower in him , Pcpeeta. It wu . . he who first-divined thy story. " , , "Then you knew me ? " "We had conjectured. " - "Then I wiU I stay , oh I will stay a little while , and "perhaps , - perhaps who knows ? " she clasped her hands , her soul looked out of her eyes , and . . a i smile of genuine / happiness lit up n ' > r i sad face. . . . " 'Yes , who knows ? " said Dorothea , gently , rearranging the pillows anc bidding the invalid fall , asleep again. CHAPTER XVI. In due time the vessel upon whicl David had embarked arrived at her destination , the city of New York , and the lonely traveler stepped forth un noticed and unknown into the metropo- lis of the New World. With an instinct'common to all ad- venturers , he made his way to the Bowery. Amid its perpetual excite ments and boundless , opportunities.foi adventure , David resumed the habits ' formed during that period of life upoi which the doors had now clos ( _ . His reputation had followed him , and the new scenes , the physical restoration during the long voyage , the necessity of maintaining his fame , all conspired to ' help him take a place in the front rank of the devotees of the gambling rooms. He did his best to enter into this new life with enthusiasm , but it had 3 no power to banish or even to allay his grief. He therefore spent most ol his time in wandering about among the wonders of the swiftly-growing city , observing her busy streets , hei crowded wharfs , her libraries , mu- seums and parks. This moving pano- rama temporarily diverted his thoughts from that channel into which they ever returned , and which they were constantly wearing deeper and deeper , , and so helped him to accomplish the one aim of his wretched life , which was to become even for a single mo- ment unconscious of himself and ol his misery. Among the many acquaintances he had made in that realm of life to which his vices and his crimes had \ consigned him , a single person had < < l awakened in his bosom emotions of In- terest and ; -regard. There was in that circle of silent , terrible , remorseless parasites of society , a young man whose classical face , exquisite man- ners and varied accomplishments set him apart from all the others. He moved among them like a ghost - mys - terious , uncommunicative , and unap- proachable. From the time of their first meeting he had treated David in an exception- al manner. In unobserved ways he had done him little kindnesses , and proffered many delicate advances of friendship , and not many months pass- ed before the two lone , suspicious and ostracized men united their fortunes in a sort of informal partnership and were living in common apartments. There was in Foster Mantel a sort of sardonic humor into which he was always withdrawing himself. In one of their infrequent conversations the two companions had grownunusually confidential and found themselves drifting a little too near .that most dangerous of all shoals in the lives of such men * - the past. ( To be continued. ) LET THE WEAKLINGS DIE ? Theory of an English Socialist Seem- ingly Indorsed by Flgrures. G. C. Hill , an English "sociologist , ' Announces : that it is mathematically a ' mistake to suppose that human life is I' lengthening. He thinks that in the British islands at least it can be proved mathematically that everything done to prevent sickly children from dying soon , cuts down the length ol the "average lifetime" after 40. Writ Ing in the Sociological Review he shows that in thirty years from 1870 , the death rate among male infants . . under 5 years , was cut down from 75 to 58 in the thousand. The rate was cut down in one degree or another " so tSat there were , fewer deaths 'at all ages under 35. At 35 there was al. most no change , in thirty years. ; At from 45 to 55 he ' shows the British death rate going up from 19.6 to 20.8 in - { he thousand. Between 55 , and 65 years it rose from 33. & to 38.9. His argument agrees with that oj a considerable school of "sociologists , " who agree with the . sociology of the American Indians. By putting theii babies In the cold water of the nearest stream , the Indians learned easily which were too weak to make a suc cess in , life as fighters and hunters. On the other hand , the biographies of men who have done most to civilize the world by great discoveries and in ventions show that as children they were often so weak that they were kept alive only by the greatest and ' "most loving pains. Others who have minds as mathe- - matical as that of Mr. Hill are now working out calculations showing that as the people of Europe get more to eat from the United States and South America they are growing taller and living longer for the same reason that natives of Missouri , Kansas and Texas measure : : half a foot taller than natives of Japan and China. Until a genera. tion ago , sociologists of the highest Chinese education took the view taken now by Mr. Hill in England. They applied it chiefly against girl , babies. It was a Chinese sociological custom to leave , the undersized , superfluous girl exposed in the open air to . starvi to death. . . Unprejudiced. Mike McGinnis was being examined for jury duty in a murder trial. " Mr. McGinnis , " asked the judge , "have you .formed or expresed -an opinion as to the guilt or , Innocenci ' of the prisoner at the oar ? " "No , sir , " replied Mike. . "Have you any conscientious scru.I I pIes against capital punishment ? " II I I "Not in this case , your honor , " Mlkf j replied. - - Suceca , I . w -q r . . . . - - - - - - - - - - - - J I ' - . . , , I. THE PRICE OF ' coAL.'J 'I , . . : . . 'J .r < ( , . ' , " , - , ' - t - , ' . . IS , / \ it I ! / ; ; " II . . . " _ q IIII II , J 1 . ' . " - ' ' " i11111U1 - " ' ' . , , . " , " . l ( " . : : ' . ; , " + if + tl - \ , , " ; " - . . " . . . " ' - : . . , _ _ _ ; - ' . c- - - t : 1 - - - - - ' Chicago Record Herald. I EDITOR OF CENTURY IS DEAD. R. W. Gilder , Surrounded by Mem- bers of Family , Conscious at End. Richard Watson Gilder , poet , lectur- er and editor-in-chief of the Century Magazine , died shortly before 6 o'clock Thursday night. The famous editor , who for more than a1 : quarter of a cen- tury has been regarded as an author- ity on literature , passed , away at the home of a friend , Mrs. Schuyler ; Van . , : BURIAL OF THOSE WHO ATTEMPTED RESCUE. . . : , . rn ! 1 . : : : . : : v . . . ; r : , a. o 7 iYv , : . , ' . : , . . . . . : . . : . _ . ' , .i + 4 4 . x. q' . . 4 : rY . . : . , . 'r sy ? : . : . 'oYa : y ? : i < i : l _ y.o r. r ta Yr , . r. : ; 'wxgy. } ; 4Y. < k2:4,4 , . .yft 'x't : ? i S > } t rsw t ; t ! ' x ' , " ; r : t : : : ; : k I ; - ' y > s s 1 > ' : v : ' ' ! i3:5 : ; : .4.hu. ; , fyfS : : . . . , . . . . . . : : : : : : : : Y. : : : : : t v µ YY , ' o + a : : o ' ' . . : . > : ! ' : 'r : : . / ' . a : ; + , c . q Sk2 ! . . > . : , . : : : , . . . . . , , . . : : . N k : . : : } : ? ! ; ! ; : } : . : rx + : : ? : : t 4Yr : : > , ; . . ; : . . . . : : : > : ; R. , , : : y i . . . . . , , , . : . . } ; , : C q + o . , . . . ! , , . . . ! .M"i a.Z . . . .r. " , . .r. , : : . . .9.f.1' ! ' % r . > y : ; : ' : c .a.xro fA n. ; ? 3" ' iN : ; ; ; ! , . . : ? , n ) ' N ; . C : F , : > . . .t. } . : . : f. v iY r : : ' : < . ; . ; : : . , : . . } . . FSY ; : . n : : : - - . : . . . / , ' . . . - . ' . . : . : . . , . . . ; ; - ' _ ' : : . 4 . , . .r , : . . + . : . ; . . , t . .v. : . . , :4. : : , ! . "MIN1fl.SWXfH. ! . 'BA1te.V H.eADSTA.1eHrN'G 'YfNS12.At ' : . OF ' : M. . rJ417I ; e'dI22. . . . - . ' 1 , Rensselaer , 9 West 10th street , New York. He succumbed to an attack of angina pectoris. He was surrounded by his wife and children. Mr. Gilder had been slightly indis- posed for two weeks , but death came , with unexpected quickness. He was I seemingly in better health Thursday morning when Mrs. Gilder left the , house for a short time , but an hour after noon he was stricken with heart trouble. He retained control of his faculties until the end , and bade fare- well to the members of his family. THIS BOY BAD WHEN HE SLEEPS , * Order Reverse in Case of Kansas City Lad - Would Kill Parents. What strange impulse leads Walter Schoonover , 11 years old , who is de voted to his parents in his waking hours , to try to murder them when darkness falls ? For months his par- ents , who live at Kansas City , Kan. , . have attempted to answer this ques- tion. Failing , they have appealed to Judge Van B. Prather to help them solve the mystery. Several times the boy's father and step-mother have awakened to find the youth stooping over them with a hammer , ready to kill them. When awakened he jeturns to bed in a peaceful frame of . mind. The boy asserts that he does not know why he has such , homicidal impulses. The court ordered him sent to a sani- arium. : TRADE AND INDUSTRY. H. Rockwell , an Iowa strawberry en- : husiast , after twelve years' effort and experimenting , claims to have pro- duced an ever-bearing strawberry. St. Paul officials declare that no ad- vance in freight rates ' is contemplated in the Northwest , whatever may be the plans of railroads in other parts of the country. Michael Ryan , president of the American Packers' Association , at a convention In Chicago , said that un- less a great many more cattle were raised in America , this country would soon need to be importing meat. No hope of permanently lower prices for meat is held out by the ' association. James J. Hill will distribute $2,500 in gold as prizes at the Omaha corn ex- hibit for the best grain grown in Mon- tana within twenty - : ive miles of the Great Northern. Montana : will have on display products which will demon.- itrate that the State of former mining : tod cattle-raisin fame is now in the Kl'uultsl'a1. , cTu . ii . . I' ! , Ii . . . . . , / - . . - - - r . NOTES OF THE MINE DISASTER. I A woman attacked the guard at the main shaft and demanded that the seals be broken. State Factory Inspector Davies found that - , a number of boys under 16 \ years of : age were employed , in the mine. The children of the town flocked to the Congregational Church Wednes- day , where they were fed by represen - - - _ . . _ . . tatives of the Congregational Home Missionary Society. Agitators harangued the miners and urged them to seize the .works by force tear the seals off the shafts and rescue the entombed miners. Scores of families are suffering from the cold , many of the sorrowing wid- ows and orphans being found huddled i ' together in unheated houses. Two companies of militia arrived in Cherry Wednesday , but remained in cars on outskirts of town until night in ordernot , to arouse the miners. : : Malcolm McDonald , State President WIDOWS AND OBPHANS AT CHERRY. \ . . . ; , Ii . . . . ' 'I ' ' s't4 : : : / : i i. : 7 % fY ' ir : . - - ' : L _ , - : .r . my _ _ % - i 'ri rN I * _ _ _ _ _ _ : - , ' ) I _ _ . , _ _ Ii i ' , _ _ 1. " % v'ryX i : r + ) ii : ! - I ' I' of the United Mine workers , declared that the presence of the troops in- ' creased rather than lessened the grav ity of the situation. Relief work is well organized and a regular system of relieving cases of distress has been put in operation. Many pitiable cases of suffering are brought to the attention of the Red Creu Y : , , - . . \ \ , . ' - . , CHARLES N. CBITTENTON 'DEAD- Founder of Many Rescue Homes Pneumonia Victim. , Charles N. Crittenton of New York , 76 years old , known as the millionaire . founder of seventy-three rescue homea a . for girls in America and several in Japan and China , which he named in , I. . memory of his daughter , Florence ; ' died in San Francisco .Tuesday night of pneumonia , after a short illness. Mr. Crittenton was visiting the homes throughout the country and arrived in San Francisco ten days before. HQ be ' came ill within a few days after his i > , arrival. He was senior member : of the firm of Charles N. Crittenton & Co. , . - wholesale druggists New York. Mr. : Crittenton became converted in 1883 , , , the day after the burial of his daugh- , _ ter , who died at the age of 6. He had , become wealthy' by hard work , having started with a capital of , $60 , and de ' cided to spend a part of his money ; and time in philanthropy. In April . 1883 , the first Florence Crittenton- home was established. The object of the new movement was' the reclamaI I tion of unfortunate women. , l DRIVEN FROM HOMES BY : FLOOD . Suffering * Is Caused , in Eastern Kan . sas by High Water and Cold. t- " Many rivers and smaller streams ' in eastern Kansas are higher than . ever before at this season of the year : , because of torrents of rain during three days. The small towns of Frankfort , Centralia . Vliets and Ver- million are flooded and many resi- - , . ' . . . dents sought'shelter on the high lands Monday , night. The weather was cold and raw , causing much suffering among the people driven from their homes. At Lawrence the Kansas river is higher than it has ever been at this time of the year , and in the low- . , . . lands near there many persons have . - f ' oeen forced to leave their homes. At 3alina Manhattan and Junction , , City . . the unusual rains are causing anxiety. ' At Salina the Western Star mill dam , across the Smoky Hill river Is threat- ened. The Smoky Hill and Republi- can rivers are unusually high and . still , rising. , , , - . < , . . ' Die of Hydrophobia on Train. Paul Wesley Collins , /4 years old , . died of hydrophobia on a Big Four , i train due in Indianapolis. The child ' had l ' -en bitten by a dog at Delaware , . ! . . . . , . ' ' Ohio , and was being taken home from . , .t'j . Chicago , where he had received treat- . _ ' ; . M * ment. . ' Blmira City Hall Burned. The City Hall in _ ElmIra , X. . y. . . , was burned to the ground when a fire . ' which started in the engineer's room spread so quickly that the firemen . could not check the flames. The struc : I ture was built ten years ag * at a cost . , cf ' 1OOO9O. ( . . - . . . . . . . . , . . - - - . . . : .t " . . 1 . .
