Omaha daily bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 187?-1922, June 25, 1912, Page 11, Image 11

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Sherlocko the
I HEA1D fiURALArV.
IN Mf BARN DtSTlNCTUr
LfiAY VH6-E IT THE ftM I
Hunting a
It 1
Remembering Maynard's Cruelty to the Horse, the Widow
Treats Him Coolly.
1 1
The night, after her drive with Robert
Maynar.d, Beatrice slept poorly. During
the evening she had been able to put
from her thoughts the finale to the
events of the afternoon, but when her
objective mind sank to rest with her
weary body the subconscious mind began
to work, and in her dreams she saw the
eet, white face of the angry man and
heard the hiss of the lash as it de
scended upon the quivering and fright
ened horse.
She awoke with a gasp, thinking for
a mement that It had been all a dream;
then remembered the disagreeable epi
sode, and fell asleep at last, only to
dream of it again.
She arose the following morning weary
and heavy-eyed. She was disappointed
In the' man whom she had begun to re
gard with more than ordinary .warmth
of feeling. His lack of self-control was
more than odious to her because it re
minded her of Tom's occasional ebulli
tions of temper under the influence of
liquor, and the remembrance added to
her discomfort Not twice, she declared,
would a sane woman give her happiness
into the keeping of a drinking man.
Yet, even, while she made this men
tal statement, came creeping into her
brain the question was Robert Maynard
really , what could be called a drinking
man? He did not look it, for his eye
and skin were clear, his manner alert
yet calm, his hand and voice steady. Al
though she had seen him drink a glass
of wine at Helen Robblns' dinner, and a
highball at the after-theater supper, he
had taken no more than did any other
man present at either time. Perhaps,
she mused, he only drank when with
some boon companions like Rossiter, but,
even so, a wife would never know when
her husband might meet such a com
panion, and she would always be dread
ing It. No, a man who could so far for
get himself was not the kind of a man
for her to consider as a possible hus
band. Several days passed without any word
from Maynard. Beatrice had fancied that
perhaps he would send ' her a note of
apology, or some flowers, or some token
of his repentance. She had even pond
eded in her mind as to whether to receive
such advances with cold disapproval or
with pitying forgiveness. She was piqued
to find smouldering resentment against
Maynard -added warmth to her welcome
to Henry Blanchard when he called on the
fourth evening after her experience with
Maynard. "Uncle Henry" had sent her
no word of his return from his business
trip, and she was secretly a bit amused
to note that he took it for granted that
she would be at home and disengaged.
But he, at all events, she reflected, was
a nice, honest-hearted, sober man. Her
displeasure with the widower made her
feel more kindly toward the old bachelor
and her "How good It is to see you
again!" was so cordial that Blanchard
decided that she was an unusually at
tractive and delightful woman.
"I thought you might not mind seeing
me," he admitted with a gratified smile.
"I just got back from Boston this after
noon. I ran In to see Helen right after
dinner, but told her I had a call to make
and could not stay. She asked me where
I was calling, but I pretended not to hear
her and to be absorbed In discussing the
political situation with, her husband. Then
I came away before she had a chance to
ask me again. She's a, good girl, but
a bit Inquisitive at times."
"That's because she's so fond of you,"
said Beatrice. "I'm sure if I had as nice
en uncle as you I would like to know
about him and his affairs."
"I always fancy she's Just a little
Jealous," said Blanchard. "I would not
say so to most people, but I feel that
you're to be trusted so I acknowledge
that I tbink often that Helen would
rather I didn't go to see any of the
ladles. Perhaps" with a chuckle "she's
afraid I might, even at my age, get Into
my head the notion of marrying and set
ting up an establishment of my own."
The speech was made apparently in
fun and Beatrice was annoyed to feel
herself blushing consciously. She spoke
hastily and at random.
"Well, and if you did; I suppose that is
your own business. Isn't it?" she queried.
Again her companion chuckled.
"That's about the way it looks to me,"
he agrees. "But I suppose Helen thinks
It would be very foolish for an old codger
like me to marry for she considers me
really old."
"But you're not!" declared Beatrice,
eagerly. "You seem to me to be just In
the prime of life."
"Then you really think" he said with
a pleased laugh, "that a man of my age
has a right to ask a young woman to
consider seriously the subject of marriage
to him?"
But Beatrice was not obliged to reply
to this leading question, for, to her re
lief, the telephone bell rang sharply and
Monk-
The
l KNOW "tOO. t-J
Barn, MRS,. HNpeaq-J
VKtWAIU AND 1
H)IU INVfcSTKlMt
IMMtOtATCW
Husband
1 1
yT-rilMHffi V ,v" L I --Lfrfel HENrtcw tied it out tesf VS
r XJ1t, Br--4lf HAVE SUPPED our I Afe J AH.afwhu- VHOuiJxJ '
11 f EDWLT A I C Ma at the Bacc teadV? V Sgfe 'l.jl f 4 Uren one r -g!S- J ?4 1 S
GAHft of V
, J
By Virginia Terhune Van DeWater.
she hastened Into the hall in obedience
to its summons. She was amused to hear
Helen's voice.
"Beatrice, dear," she said, "I have not
heard from you for some days, and I
am juet calling up to know if you are
well and was you are doing with your
self." Beatrice was aware that her friend's
seeming solicitude was the result of her
suspicions as to where her bachelor re
lative was spending his evening, and her
desire to assure herself that he was not
in the presence of the attractive widow.
So Beatrice talked rapidly and lightly of
one matter after another, cleverly keep
ing Helen from asking any direct ques
tion. It was a nice bit of fencing, but
the widow did her part so well that when
the conversation ended Helen knew no
more of her uncle's whereabouts than
when it began. Nor had Beatrice called
Helen by name, using instead the con
venient "my dear," which might apply
to any friend. So Henry Blanchard,
overhearing the conversation, did not
suspect that his wily niece has been at
tempting to spy upon his movements.
His hostess had scarcely returned to
the drawing-room when the telephone
bell sounded again in an insistent and
persistent ring; With a laughing apology
and the comment, "1 seem to be in de
mand this evening, just when I would
like a quiet talk with you," she went
once again into the hall and put the re
ceiver to her ear. She caught her breath
as she heard Maynard's voice. He had
been so busy, he said, that he had not
had time to call her up until now. "Al
though I have thought of you much,"
he averred, "I wish I might think that
you had missed me a little."
"Really," replied Beatrice, carelessly,
"I have not had leisure to think of any
body much of late, for my time has
been so fully occupied."
An awkward silence ensued, then
Maynard spoke again.
"When are you going to be kind enough
to spare me a little of your precious
time?" he asked. "When may I come
and see you, you dear lady?"
But Beatrice was unmoved by the
pleading voice.
"I really cannot say just now when
I will have a free hour," she answered,
in as Indifferent tone as she could as
sume. "I have company this evening,
and must really ask you to excuse me
as I ought to return to the drawing
room."
Another silence attested to the man's
surprise. Then he asked:
"You will drop me a line when you
can make time to see me, won't you?"
"I will think about it," promised Be
atrice. "Good night." And, hanging up
the receiver, she returned to her guest.
FOUND INSPIRATION IN LOVE
Some men of genius have undoubtedly
believed with Thackeray that it is better
to love foolishly than not at all; that
they have practiced this philosphy is
proved by their memoirs and biographies.
Leigh Hunt loved a good girl whose
spelling was unconventional and whose
chlrography could not be called her chief
accomplishment. Keats was wildly,
madly in love with a commonplace girl
named Fanny Browne. He married her,
but she was Incapable of appreciating
him.
Hazlltt, the brilliant essayist, loved the
pert, coarse daughter of his landlady.
He wrote her a letter which she never
answered, and he said that "the rolling
years of eternity would not fill up the
blank that her failure to answer that
letter caused."
A practical Scottish girl, Charlotte Car
penter, won Walter Scott's love. She not
only hated literature, but objected to
writing to him. He wrote her. saying,
"You must write me one a week." She
replied: "You are quite out of your
senses, and you need not put in so many
'musts' in your letters. It Is beginning
too early."
Alfred de Musset's love for the Irre
sponsive George Sand gave his thoughts
such an extraordinary elevation that
he wrote many brilliant poems in conse
quence. Chaucer sang the praises of
many queens, but his one great love was
Phlllippa Plcard de Roueet, the lady-In-waltlng
to Queen Anne of Bohemia. He
waited nine years to marry her, but made
it a matter of complaint in several poems.
Moore lived up to his theory that love's
young dream is the sweetest thing in life.
He never let one love get old before he
supplanted it with a new. Carey had his
Sally of "Sally In Our Alley" fame. Sur
rey loved Geraldine from the time she
was a child in short dresses. Cornellle.
the astute lawyer, fell In love and became
the bdlliiant dramatic poet. Thus it
seems that love, whether successful or
otherwise, for a time Inspires its. votaries.
THE BEE:
Case of the Voice in the
Shooting Butterflies With Guns and Bows
A Strange Sport that Suggests Thoughts of Some of the Riddles of Ex istence.
ill mw wl
KILLING THE GREAT INSECT NAMED AFTER A FIRE-EATING MONSTER; SHOOTING THE BUTTER
FLY, TROIDES CRTMAERA, WITH A FOUR-PRONGED ARROW.
In the forests of New Guinea, among
the Owen Stanley mountains, dwell
what may be regarded as the largest
species of butterflies in the world. Some
of them have wings which, when opened,
spread to a width of almost a foot
lacking but half an inch. Jlany have a
spread of wings varying from eight to
ten Inches. They are brilliant in color,
and haunt the branches of tall flower
ing trees, so that it is difficult to cap
ture them.
The first specimen that ever fell into
the hands of a white man was shot by
Mr. A. h. Meek, with an ordinary twelve
bore gun. He did not know that he
had discovered a new species until he
had sent it to Trine park, in England,
where Walter Rothschild has a wonder
ful natural history museum. Word was
sent back to Mr. Meek, who has been
hunting In New Guinea and neighboring
Islands for more than twenty years that
the wonderful butterfly he had killed
was new to science. It was named
Troldes-Chimaera Troldes being the fam
ily name of a group of butterflies, and
Chlmaera the name of the traditional
monster that the Orpek hero Belleiri
phon killed while riding the winged horso
Pegasus.
It was a female, and Mr. Meek was
requested by Mr. Rothschild to try to
obtain a specimen of the male. Mr.
Meek was then in the Solomon Islands,
but he went back to New Guinea and
began his search. After a several weeks
hunt he succeeded. He discovered many
females, but could seldom see a male,
way of killing these gigantic butter
way of killing these gigantic butter
flies than shooting them to pieces with
shot. They climb up into the trees armed
with a how and light four pronged ar
rows. There, they lie In wait, in the
vicinity of a branch that is laden with
the flowers that the butterflies love, and
when one comes along and alights to
suck the nectar a prolonged arrow Is
sent into his vitals. The arrows do not
tear the Insects to pieces as shot are
liable to do. Meanwhile another native
crouches on the ground underneath the
tree and prays for the success of his
comrade up among the branches. The
same arrows are used to kill small birds.
Previous to the discovery of these ti
tanic butterflies of New Guinea, several
other gigantic species were known in
the Islands of the Malay Archipelago, but
none as large as these. They have been
diligently sought by naturalists since the
time when Alfred Russet Wallace made
his famous exploring expeditions through
those islands and when found have been
treasured like nuggets of gold. Mr. Wal
lace has given most amusing and ex
citing accounts of his capture of the first
specimens of the huge ornlthpteras but
terfly, which is thus named because its
wings are shaped somewhat like those
of a bird. They vary from six to eight
Inches in spread, and are gloriously beau
tiful in color and markings. Their bril
liancy and beauty, Mr. Wallace says, are
indescribable. He thus tells of his sen
sations when he caught, in the islands
of Batachlan, the first specimen he had
ever seen:
"On taking it out of my net and open
ing its glorious wings, rny heart began
to brat violently, my bluod rushed to
my htad, and X ftlt much more like
OMAHA, TUESDAY, JUNE 25, 1912,
Barn
(Copyright, 1913,
By GARRETT P. SERV1SS.
fainting than I have ever done when In
apprehension of immediate death. 1 had
a headache the rest of the day, so great
was the excitement."
Afterward, in the Aru islands, Mr. Wal
lace caught a -second no less wonderful
specimen, and of this he says:
"I trembled with excitement as I saw
it coming majestically toward me, and
could hardly believe I had really suc
ceeded in my stroke till I had taken It
out of the net and was gazing, lost in
admiration, at the velvet black and bril
liant green of Its wings, seven inches
across; its golden body and crimson
breast."
Mr. Wallace remarked that the flight
of these great butterflies is slow and
majestic, and when near the ground
they look larger and much more con
spicuous than the majority of birds.
"The first sight of the great blue
Morphos, flapping slowly along in the
forest reads near Para; of the large,
white-and-black. semi transparent Ideas,
floating airily about the woods near Ma
lacca, and of the golden-green Ornlthop
tears, sailing on bird-like wings over the
flowering shrubs that adorn the beaches
of the Ke and Aru islands can never be
forgotten."
It seems wonderful that any species of
Fear is a Common Failing
In an editorial founded on the Titanic
disaster, F. P. Dunne writes as follows
in the July American Magazine:
"Probably the first thought of every
reasonable man in reading the dreary
details of the dibaster to the Titanic
was: 'What would I have done In the
same circumstances?' Probably his sec
ond bore the hope In all humility that if
such circumstances should arise for him
he would behave without too much of
the awkwardness of panic. Only a fool
would hazard a prediction of his con
duct in the face of a peril so unexpected
and attended by the terrors of midnight
and the sea. It is no discredit to the
human race to say that cowardice is a
gift from the devil which has been Im
partially distributed among mankind.
"Every man who thinks at all is afraid
of death. He may be more afraid of
something else, of loss of honor, health
or money, of going to a dentist, or, like
the man in Pickwick, of Hfe, without
buttered muffins, but he chooses death
only as a bad alternative for a worse.
If he Is not affraid of one things you
may be sure he Is afraid of another. A
man will go up to the clouds in a bal
loon who wouldn't go down Into twenty
feet of water in a submarine. A steeple
jack may be afraid of dogs and a lion
tamer of riding In an elevator. We
know a man who has made a great repu
tation for coolness under fire in battle,
who gthbers with fear whenever he
lias the stomachache. One man fears j
fire, another burglars, another railway J
Natl. News Association
animal should vary as greatly as do the
butterflies in size. Most of those that
we are familiar with in temperate climes
have a spread of wings not exceeding an
Inch or two. One with a spread of three
inches seems a monster. Think, then, of
Mr. Meek's specimens, almost a foot
across. If men varied as much as that
In size we might expect to encounter in
the tropical forests representatives of our
species from forty to sixty feet tall.
Monkeys and apes, which look often
like caricatures of human beings, vary
greatly in size, and so do beetles and
other Insects; but the majority of ani
mals have an average limit of dimen
sions, which is seldom much exceeded, so
that even a slx-foot-and-a-half or seven
foot man seems to most of us an ex
traordinary giant. What would the his
tory of our race have been If some of
its tribes had grown to a height of sev
eral yards, while others attained a stat
ure of only a few feet? Unless the little
one were more plentifully furn'shed
with brains than their gigantic compeers
they would have had small chance of
suvlval, except as the slaves of their
huge masters. But the law of gravita
tion would have come to the rescue of
the little fellows, for the big ones would
have been so heavy that they could
hardly stand on their feet. A fully pro
portioned many sixty feet tall would
weigh about 200,000 pounds.
J
trains, another measles.
"Conduct in an emergency depends on
many things besides those abstract quali
ties known as 'cowardice' and 'courags.'
A man is apt to act calmly when his
surroundings, at the time the peril pre
sents Itself, are customary and familiar,
when his nerves happen to be sound, or
when he has time to meditate on his
action and weigh carefully its conse
quences. "It is well known that men arc orderly
in peril when they have a set task to
perform. We once asked a fireman who
had borne himself with great valor In
danger if he wasn't afraid. 'I didn't
have time,' he said. 'I was busy gettln'
the people out.' Captain Smith of the
Titanic was in the same case. He had
his absorbing work to do and It gtve
him no leisure to think of bis fate. So
we have seen old men whose death was
almost as. imminent as his. apparently,
continue heedless of it till the end
through their Interest in the affairs of
the world.
"Again a man may be persuaded to
shame or glory, as the case may be, by
the example of his neighbor. One per
son afflicted by blinding fear may turn a
hundred men into a panic-stricken mob
or he may convert them Into a throng
of heroes through their very horror of
his conduct. And ona man who has
established his moral equilibrium quickly
can Instantly convey fortitude to the
others. Courage and cowardice both
like company."
Drawn for The Bee by Gus Mager
t'
Jackson of
It Was Fifty Years Ago Today That "Stonewall' Jackson
Forced General McClellan to Change His Plans.
By REV. THOM
Jim SiO,
Just fifty years ago today Juno 23,
1862 General McClellan. commanding the
Army of the Potomac, heard a bit of
news tha threw all of his caroCully
laid plana out of joint, reversed the
whole stategy of
his campaign and
headed him for tho
cover of the gun
boats on the James.
Tho startling bit
of news was that
"Stonewall" Jack
son had suddenly
appeared on his
right riank. That
was all. But that
was enough; and
the brave army
with the cautious
leader was heuded away from the point
where It could plainly see the very church
steeples of the confederate capital.
When Jackson appeared on MoClellan's
flank he was on his way back from his
famous valley compatgn. a campaign that
will ever rank In brilliancy along with
Napolaon's first Italian campaign and
that earlier campaign which Malborough
brought to a close at Blenheim.
After a forced march of 100 miles Jack
son, on May 8. fell like lightning upon
McDowell at Milroy and completely used
Ihlm up. A few days later, after a
march of 120 miles, he defeated Banks at
Front Royal, followed him to Winchester,
beat him there to the verge of panic and
drove him In dismay across the Potomac.
Resting for a couple of days, Jackson
appeared at Harper's Ferry, from which
point he threatened an invasion of Mary
land. The bluff worked like a charm.
The militia of the adjoining states were
called out and 60,000 troops were rushed
to the valley to "bag Jackson."
Keeping yp his demonstration on the
Potomao until it was no longer safe,
Jackson began to fall back. Three armies
f"
Little Bobbie's Pa
Thare was a lady
house last nlte to visit Ma. She was a
old maid that newer got married bee
kaus thare wasent any good men In the
wurld & none of the bad men wud
ask her.
Ma had been
telling Pa all about
this wonder woman
& her fine brain
until Pa got tired
of llssening to It.
Her nalm Ib Miss
Patience Parker, I
guess that is tha
reeson she is a old
maid, beekaus her
first name Is Pa
tience. It was bad enuff
for poor Pa to be
all the time hear-
In? what a wun-
dtrful woman she was, but wen he found
uut she was cumming to dinner last nlte
he got awful blue. He had to take away
all tho sporting pages about base ball &
everything good, & throw them in a
waste basket, & Ma made him clear off
the sideboard, I helped clear off the
sideboard. Pa took sum drinks out of
the decanters so thay wud be lite enuff I
for me to carry. He toald me little boys
shuddent git thare backs strained.
Wen Miss Parker got to the house she
started rite in talking the kind of talk
l'a thought she wud start in to talk.
Iscnt Mister Henry Wad-worth Lon
fellow's grandson a wunderful man? she
asked Ta & Ma at the dinner tabel.
Havent you red In the paper that he is
going to be married to a sweet yung
girl?
I saw sumthing about It, sed Ma. Do
you think It will be a happy marriage?
How cud it bo else than happy? sed
Miss Patience Farker. Just think, this
yung man she is to wed newer took a
smoke or a drink or ate any meet, & he
is never going to. Doant you think it Is
noabel for a yung man to have such
high iddels, she asked Pa.
Dident he chew, eether? asked Pa.
No, sed Miss Patience Parker, he never
used tobacco In any form.
Does his Intended bride use tobacco? sed
Pa.
Well, of all things! sed Miss Parker.
Certlngly not.
Well, sed' Pa, they ought to git along
grate. Two souls without a singel
thought, sed Pa. How butiful.
I offen think, sed Miss Patience Parker,
that the spirit of his grandfather is all
11
the Valley
AS B. GREGORY. s
were closing in on him, and nis line of, '.
safe retreat was fifty miles away.
marched that distance In a day and a'
half, and at Strasburg held Fremont a.'f
bay until his long train of prisoners and,"
captured stores had safely passed. vv
Arriving at a point where ha thought';
that further retreat was unnecessary, he;
turned off for Port Republic, seised tha '
bridge there and took the position which;1
would enable him to fight his adversaries
In succession without either being able
Jo help the other. ' '
Fremont was nearest, and on June S
Jackson defeated htm at Cross Keys.
The : following day he dealt Shields a:
staggering blow at Port Republic, driving "
him several miles from the battlefield.
With a fores of no time exceeding 17,000 1
men Jackson whipped all of his adver-
sarles In succession, and, though they so '
largely exceeded him In strength, 'ha ;
generally managed to meet them at tha .
point of attack with equal or superior -numbers.
But he did vastly more. His tallay
campaign completely paralyzed McClol- r
lan's "On to Richmond" campaign.' If
Is fairly probable that McClellan would ;
have taken the confederate capital had "
he had tho assistance of the 40.000 or J0.000
men under McDowell, which splendid
force was diverted frorri hlrh by Jack- ',
son's victory over Banks at Winchester J
and his bluff at Harper's Ferry.
In addition to winning every one of nis
series of battles and knocking out Mc
Clellan's plans In the Peninsula cam-'
palgn, Jackson captured arms, ammuni
tion and supplies of all sorts to last the .
confederacy for months. With the ma- .
terlal that Jackson took from tha three 1
armies that were sent out to baf him'r
Lee fought McClellan clear down to the ,
James.
It is doubftul If any other commander,":
since commanders have been, aver ac-';
compllshed as much with 17,000 men as '
was accomplished by Stonewall Jackson!,
in his valley campaign. -
J:
By WILLIAM F. KIRK. t
cairn up to our the time hovering oaver that noabel vun,V
man. How proud that spirit must be
of, Its grandson, setting In his dainty
hoam without no tobacco fumes. ",
But Mister Longfellow was all the tfcns--wrltlng
about Hiawatha smoking tha.
peace pipe, sed Pa. & I doant know for
suro, but I have heard that the good old""
poet used to wrap hisself around a lot,:
of that New England hard older in the'
cold, wintry riltes, sed Pa. Him & Mister!
Whittles was snowbound onst, & tradls-v
nun has it that they never tried to dig"
thare way out as long as the hard cider i
lusted. l
Do you know what I think. Miss
Parker, sed Pa. I think if the spirit oft
Henry W. Longfellow is reely hovering,
oaver & around the noabel yung man"
that Is soon to wed, that spirit is reeslt
Ing this kind of Hlawathy: .
You who are about to marry
Just as gallant Hiawatha
Went & married Minnehaha,
Take a llttel tip from grandpa: S
Smoak a llttel. drink a llttel.
Scrap a llttel, drink a llttel,
Eat sum beefsteak when you want It, .
Laugh and love & die contented.
I think that you aro very crude, sed '
Miss Patience Parker. I doant see how
yure good wife endures the strain of
ulivln' with you.
Ask her how she endures It, sed Pa.
Thure Isent anything to endure, sed Ma,
my husband is the best old sport & the
the deertst husband that ewer lived.
A Scuptor
j
By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.
(Copyright, 1912, by National News Ass'n.) .
As the ambitious sculptor, tireless, lifts
Chisel and hammer to the block at hand.
Before my half-formed character I stand "
And ply the shining tools of mental
gifts.
I'll cut away a huge, unsightly side
Of selfishness, and smooth the curves.
of grace
The angles of ill-temper.
,
And no trace
Shall my sure hammer leave of silly .
pride.
Chip after chip must fall from vain'
desires,
And the sharp corners of my discontent
Be rounded Into symmetry, and lent
Great harmony by faith that never tires,"
Unfinished still, I must toil on and on, .
Till the pale critic, Death, shall say,'
"'Tis done."
:
I