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About The courier. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1894-1903 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 7, 1896)
THE COUIUXIL STORIES IN PASSING. She wje a )itle brown eyed woman, wearing nt-ut black stuff of some kind and a bonnet just a trifle out of date. She had come up to the university to e! her boy and attend the foot ball gam, and had met so many young fel lows she was quite bewildered. They had taken such an interest in her that abe couldn't understand it. One had taken them out to the game in his trap. Another had had her and Frank out to luuch. They talked so beautifully of Frank, it seemed. lie was such a good student would make Phi Beta Kappa easily. And he would be on the foot ball team next year not a doubt of it; and then he was such a general favor ite. They flattered her delicately by remarking how much Frank resembled his mother, and she went back to her home with a warm spot in her heart for the pleasanteat, most hospitable young Bien in the state, as she thought. They were all so kind and courteous she was glad her son had gained their fr'end ahip so earl in his college career. The dear mother, bless her kind heart, never dreamed for a moment of the policy in those attentions. She probably never heard of a college fra . ternity and would not have understood 'you had you told her they were "rush ing' her boy. Thie is an incident of East Lincoln life and goes for what it is worth. "Will. Will, waka up!'; It was long after midnight and the 'fcveband rolled over crossly. , -"Well, what, do you want?'1 "You didn't bring the cat in-doors." ' "No, I couldn't find it." was the sleepy response. "Well, hear it out in the garden, Hil ten's big dog is fighting it and will kill M. Do get ud and see!' Will reluctantly got out of bed, took the lamp and went down to the bask kitchen door. His wife followed to en eursge him. For a moment they stood there shivering in the night air. "There it is over by the grapevines. I can see its eyes," said the wife. The husband turned the improvised search light in the direction of the grape vines. "Ain't a thing there." "Yes, it s there. Right by the post. I an see it's eyes shinirg there." The man went out to the post and stooped down. Then he arose hurriedly and kicked something with his unlaced '"Cats Eyes! Thvnd.er and mud! That's a couple of tin cant." The cat was found Irt the morning aleeping peacefully &t the foot of the children's bed. Carl: "What's to do, my jolly tar?"' Jim: "Luff her, you lubber, luff her', Carl: "Aye, aye. my merry man." Jim. "Jam the boom! Port the helm!" and as Carl jerked the rudder, "The devil! Jim, you've pitched me into the water! Pull me in, quick!" The child was dying. It was plain enough to me. And I told the mother so, as I closed the now useless medicine case. Suddenly the dull eyes of the child brightened and a shadow of color came over the cheeks. "Mamma, sing," it said. The mother took the wasted little hand in hers, and then began a simple little child song. It was not much of a song, nor vas she much of a singer, but to the child it was the music of heaven. The song ceased, and the child's eyes closed. I thought all was over, as it lay there so white and still. Thtn the lids slowly opened and rest ed on the mother's face. The lips whis pered, and I caught the words,"Thanks pretty .1 " The little head Ijy cold upon the illow. The mother ntill sat holding the thin, little ringers, and weeping softly to myself, I took up my medicine case and left them there in the gather ing gloom. He was passing along Twelfth street on his way home from a party when this thing happened. The lights were out and the street darker than a pit. He had taken the middle of the pavement, which was the best thing he could do at that hour. Suddenly from a tree not ten feet away came a low, mournful, trilling sound, as of an owl. It caught his at. tention, but he went on up the street. At the alley of the block there came again the same vibrating, chilling call, only lower, and with a sort of jerk in the middle. Involuntarily he looked up apprehes sively toward the big brick terrace standing out dark in the shadow. A dark form was just slipping behind one of the stone columns and there was a disappearing flash of light as if from a dark lantern's. He turned, looked back, and raw something detach itself from the tree on the corner, at least he thought so, for he did not wait to Bee, but fell to running up the street as fast as his legs could carry him. It was election night There was a crowd of them in a Tenth street saloon and they weie royally drunk. Things were coming their way and they had determined to do it up brown. And they were succeeding cap itally. They were too full to stand treat any longer or to keep count on the drinks. So they emptied the glasses as rapidly as the fat little bar tender could waddle about, singing and shouting at the top of their husky voices. As one of the younger men stooped a little a photograph slipped from his inner pocket and fell upon the bar, face upwards,,before him. For a Boment he gazed at the face with a dull, vacant stare; then, soberea in an instant. Then he straightened up and left the place, deadly pale. They were building a sail boat out at Burlington Beach last spring and put in their spare moments practicing all the nautical terms they could learn from Ben or books. The first trip was some thing like this: Jim from the bow: "Land to the westward, ho!" Carl from the rudder: "Where away? Jim: Three points to windward." It is a rainy night on O street, near midnight. The clouds bang low. The gutters are running over and there are. puddles everywhere in the streets. Beads of water hang from the cornices, and from the sign boards swaying fit fully in the night winds, the buildings loom up dark and forbidding. The lights on the corner cast long black shadows across the street. A dog skulks from Btore to store nosing the ground for its master; a blanketed horse stamps a watery puddle uneasily, and shakes the rain from its mane; a hack with its two dim lights disappears around the corner. Far up the street the red lamp of a saloon Etands out in the misty night. The clock strikes the hour, the long line of electric points turn red, grow fainter and then go out altogether, and from that time the night is anyone's. ooo ooooooooooo CYCLE PHOTOGRAPHS a ATHLETIC PHOTOGRAPHS O PHOTOGRAPHS OF BABIES 8 PHOTOGRAPHS OF GROUPS g EXTERIOR VIEWS g Apu&n&ifa O The Photographer filSouth Eleventh Street. ooooooooooo 000000000 going to school Do the children go to school ? And are they joyous and happy ? Is school-life a pleasure ? And is progress being made ? Or is the opposite true ? Does the close of each day bring a headache ? There is no appetite and sleep is imperfect. The color gr?dually leaves the cheeks and onty a little effort is followed by exhaustion. To continue school means to come to the end of the year with broken health. What is the best thing to do ? Take Scctlk nvufebru of God-liver "Oil, with hypophosphites. The cod-liver oil nourishes the bcwfy and makes red corpuscles for the blood. The hypophosphites are tonics to the nervous system, giving mental activity during the day and refreshing sleep at-night. Don't let you child get thin and worry along. Give Scott's Emulsion; insist on a generous amount of out-door exercise; and the vigor of youth will return. V, ctt. and i a bottle SCOTT & BOWNB, Cfceakts, New York XHE PALACE. BEAUTIFUL Mnlce cm Speolnlty of Hair f essing .. gfyampooing, Manicuring A.K&C1 oil Kinds cfMassaee. A Full ne of Hair Goods and Gosmetics. 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