THE COURIER.
think. That tLe written word is fre
quently not the expression of what men
think is the only explanation of the dis
tance between what they eay and what
they do. There is no doubt that the
double primary system will come nearer
expressing the choice of the largest
number of voters thai any other.
The politicians who have controlled
the prim iries sine Lincoln was a pup
do not like it an! they do not dare to
eay so. They might just as well declare
against the purity of the ballot box. But
they have not yet figured out bow t bey
can ontrol the result. And they are
busy thinking.
The Courier desires to call M. Aus
tin's attntion to the following nota re
ceived :tcm Mrs. Lamaster. the mother
of the : tie girl whom he says starved to
death. Jamaster is now working for the
fa-mer wLo loaned him the money to
hire tie Lcarse. which neither her own
need no he necessities of the sick chil.
dren could prevent the mother from
hiring. So long as a funeral is made an
orgy of ostentation and ceremony by
while folks who cugbt to knew Letter
the wretchedly poor and ignorant can
not be expected to do things more philo
sophically. It will take Lamaster several
weeks work to pay for the hearse, and
meanwhile his family is being supported
by the county. The county commis
sioners is the community represented by
three men. I do not know a member of
that community who dies not make a
funeral an occasion of ostentatious cere
mony: services, casket, tlowers, under
taking mummers, procession, monument
and all. In view of which the commun
ity cannot expect poor Mrs. Lamaster to
etep up on a plane that no one else has
cached.
To the Editor of The Courier,
L'ncoln, Nebraska.
My attention has been called to an
editorial in the Sunday Call, giving a
quotation from The Courier and in com
menting on same Bays: 'With much
deference to the opinion of the Courier,
the Call still holds that an innocent
1 e'pless cnild has died of hunger and
neglect in the family of Lamasters and
it matters not what may have been the
conduct or the condition of the father,
the united effort of organized charity
with all its good intentions has failed to
supply the wants of this helpless starv
ing an I freezing family."
l desire to entir my protest against
6uch a falsehood being made public as
there is not the least foundation for such
a statement, n ir any fact on which the
shadow of such a report could be made
and whoever wrote the article drew on
his disordered imagination for his pic
ture and never endeavored to verify it
by calling on me, or others acquainted
with the facts. I had plenty of both
fuel and provisions on hand at the time
and have not been out of supplies this
winter and never been denied any sup
plies when I have asked for them.
I do this in justice to them who
have assisted me when I have been
in need and that tin public may know
the true facts in the ess;.
Lula Lamaster.
Lincoln, Neb., February 9, 1897.
STORIES IN PASSING.
A customer had left a copy of "Gospel
Hymns" in an Eleventh street restau
rant the other evening. About 10
o'clock one of the night force ran across
the book and in fifteen minutes the
whole crew cook, waiters and dish
washers were sitting on the counter at
the lower end of the room wading into
the soDg at the tip of their voices. The
night clerk had a splendid tenor, un
trained but pure and rich, and he "led
the meetiug." And there was dragging
there. "Pull for the Shore" and "The
Lily of the Valley" went with a shout.
Presently the clerk led them round into
softer music "Jesus Lover of My Soul"
and "Blest Be the Tie." When they
struck "Rock of Ages" there was actual
feeling in their voices.
"Why, damme!" said the cook, "I feel
like when I was a kid at Sunday
school."
Deadwood, South Dakota.
The new rich Gold Fields of Ragged Top are only nine miles distant from Deadwood. The history of the Ragged
Top district is a most convincing demonstration of the truih of the miner's maxim, "Gold is where you find it." There
is absolutely nothing at Ragged Top that indicates the presence of gold. It has been passed over scores of times as un
worthy of notice. And yet it is today the scene of the mo t remarkable and sensational discoveries of gold that have
been made since he romantic days of "49. Paupers have become wealthy in a few hours. Mines change ownership
daily. Two new towns have beea laid out. Buildings are being erected as fast as the limited facilities at the disposal
of the inhabitants will permit. The Ragged Top district offers remarkable oppsrtuiities for men who are quick to act.
It is situated on the Speartish branch of the B. & M. R. R. and is best reached by taking the Burlington's 6:15 p. m. train
for Deadwood.
"Buttered toast and eggs straight up!"
yelled the waiter as a customer came in
and gave his order.
The restaurant vesper was over.
A man near Beatrice dug an artesian
well several years ago, and expected to
make his place famous by the medicinal
properties of the water. He built a
large bath house, laid out extensive
grounds, and altogether went to an ex
pense of something iie twelve thousand
dollars.
But the project fell through. There
wa3 something the matter with the
water, the well was unreliable, and peo
ple didn't seek his establishment as the
man had expected.
After it was clearly demonstrate 1 that
the whole thing was a failure, a friend
one day aeked the rr jector how much
he had lost in the enterprise.
"Not a cent,'" replied the man readily.
"It was worth six thousand dollars to
learn the geological condition o the soil
in this part of the country, and it was
worth six thousand more to find out
what a big fool I am."
It was a little incident of the Albi
gensian crusade and the place was
Beziers. For days the seige had been
going on. Outside, the army of the
church was furious from the delay.
Within the city tho people were growing
desperate. Fool had given out, the
walls were down in places, ths leaders
k lied.
At evening the last assault upon Be
ziers was made. The walls gave way
and all the savage fury of northern
France was turned upon the city.
The first man to enter the toarn was
the Abbot of Citreaux with his follow
ers pressing eagerly behind. For in
those days churchmen were warriors as
welL One of the Bishop's men asked
him how to distinguish heretic from
orthodox. Then came the monstrous
replay, "Kill them all! God will know
his own!'
And the slaughter began. Every soul
in Beziers was murdered, every man,
woman and child put to sword. The
city was burned and not a living spear
of grass left to mark the spot.
Four Lincoln gentlemen spent a day
at Niagara Falls several summers ago.
Having heard of the general custom of
fleecing strangers practiced there, they
engaged a carriage for the day, agreeing
to each pay two dollars and a half, or
ten dollars in all.
The driver took them about and
seemel a lively, well-infsrmel fello.v.
Toward evening at the last stop before
returning to the hotel, be took one of
the gentlemen aside.
"You seem to be the leader of this
party," he said, "and if it would be con
venient CDuId you just pay me the ten
dollars and settle afterwards with your
friends. Tnis would save trouble to all
of us."
The Lincoln gentleman accomodated
the driver, and after a short wait the
return was resumed.
That evening after dinner the Lincoln
gentlaman who had been addressed by
the driver, spoke to his friends of having
paid their carriage bill. Then the sad
truth came to light. At some stop dur
ing the a'ternoon the driver.had spoken
to every man in like manner, addressing
him as leader o! tho party and suggest
ing that he pay and "square" with the
others afterwards. And every man of
the four had tumbled.
It is not often that such a delicate
bit of flatten ig nets a man thirty dol
lars in one day.
A long, dusty street runs down be
tween lines of huge old maples. Birds
ily across from one side to the other.
An o'.d red cow moves laz'ly out from
the shade and eats at the road side. A
dog noses in and out among the trees
and disappears across a meadow. G nats
swarm in the air and flies dart ba;k and
forth. The street is quite deserted. It
is noon.
At the end of the street is an iron
bridge, paintel red, with a gleam of
water below it. And beyond is a high
hill of green, sprinkled with fliwering
fruit trees. On the crest of the hill a
large white house stands above the
trees with glimpses of barns and cribs
beyond. A gravel path leads straight
up through the garden from the iron
bridge to the hous
I know it well. It is my home. And
I am coming back to it after ten years.
A gentleman who enlisted during the
tail end of the "late unpleasantness"
tells this story:
"Our regiment had gathered at Saint
Louis and was being transported down
the Mississippi to Memphis, where we
were to guard a line of railroad running
east from that place. The boat, which
bad been pressed into service hastily,
was a creaky, water-dipping side
wheeler that constantly threatened
either to blow up or sink to the bottom.
"My friend Carter and I though both,
pretty young had just been promoted to
the rank or corporal. We were sitting:
on the edge of the dezk, talking it over
and watching- the sun slowly sink be
hind a woody point up stream.
"Suddenly Carter lost his balance and
went overboard. We were directly in
front of the wheel and his chancer for
further promotion were slim just at that
moment. But as he went down, one
arm stuck straight up like a signal
board. Before the fundred men stand
ing about had fully realized what had
happened, I had caught Carter's hand
and jerked him on deck.
"As we started up to the deck above,
a fell j w soldier was tacking a largj
rudely-printed notice against the cabin.
It read, 'Corporals hereafter not allowed
within ten feet of the boat's edge. By
order.'"
And now he had coma back. Twenty
years ago they had been vitally inter
ested in each other. Twenty years ago
they had parted. A slight misunder
standing, a word or two, and he had
gone away, leaving nothing but a bit of
blue ribbon. She was to send it, he
said, if ever she wanted him to return.
How she had treasured that ribbon,
dearly, tenderly, as a last token of his
love. It wrs faded and worn and yet
she kept it. Often sne had wept over it
when she was wear and she felt as if
her life waB empty. Twenty years of
loneliness aud regret, and merely a little
bit of faded color holding back the sun
shine from her heart. Why did she not
send it to him. She did not know ex
actly. At times she would seal it in an
envelope and address it to hiji, for sho
had kept track of him in all these years.
But invariably something held her back,
and she would tear open the envelope
and weep over the ribbon as it her heart
would break. She had treasured it co
long that tho ribbon had become a part
of her life and she could not bear to give
it up.
But now he had come back of his own
accord. After twenty yeats of silence
they were to meet again. And she still
kept the ribbon, What memories.
What thoughts. How long it all seemed.
Had he changed? And what of his
love? Would he come to her for the
bit of ribbon? Could she give it up to
him? And the twenty years that were
gone, what of them? H. G. Shedd.