The courier. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1894-1903, February 13, 1897, Page 5, Image 5

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    THE COURIER.
vv broideriest . xv 0
Something more than advertising will bring the crowds to our store next week. The centre cf
attraction will be an exquisite line of Embroideries. You will find rare bargains at this counter in
entirely new and up-to-date Embroideries. Don't wait, thinking perhaps you may get them cheaper,
you'll never do it, for the prices have been cut down to the lowest possible notch. After the stock has
been inspected you will see we have spoken
Tlie Truth,
OMie Vlaole Tjriitti,
JrxtX Nothing But the Truth
The Embroideries are of the finest Cambrie, Nainsook and Swiss. The patterns are in open and
closed work. The widths in the folio wing prices are from an inch and a-half to eight inches:
7 1-Scents, lOcents, 12 1'2cents, 20 cents.
LACBS
An elegant line of Laces has just been placed in stock, nothing- to equal it has ever been seen in Lincoln be
fore. The new shades of Buerre, French Grey and Champagne are found in the most exquisite and elaborate pat-.--
HM, Ihppb fVinf nrp in nreat favor are: Oriental. Net Too. Guioure. Point De Arabe. Annlume in Cream.
171 .l 1 "D..AA rj.1i "RlTz-lr nnd Pronm "WVit rt rVinnfilln TVkiMT T"h Pnrtu nt11iIv Vfilotii-oitiix TMi r"imr tn
lit. :,. ...,.-.- Afoll ,-1-c: t-nrwiw Ssrwr"in1 A TTtiTinti
width is great.
Mail orders receive Special Attention.
in
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fYtl&UlMitt WW GOODS GO.,
$&i
1023 to 1O20 O Street, Lincoln, Neb,
ig&g8&g&giigl
upusrm
The Harvest is the End of f he World.
Scorn thou nothing; World's eril and good
Must grow together, as trees in the wood;
For. sewn together, are eU and good.
And. understood.
Which is the evil or which the good?
Under the sun, in the summer weather.
In the mould of errth grow, close together,
Herbs of grace and weeds of bane
To harrcst-home, nor grow in Tain;
With the wheat, poppie. flaunting weed.
Yet daily filling a human need;
In the wheat is strength, in the poppy rest,
So each is well, yea, each is best.
Let grow together thon, as they may.
Not thine to judge not thine to say.
Where best and truest is at best :
God is the judge, and that is best.
Idila.
Monty's Scoop.
Montgomery's acquaintance with the
newspaper woman dated from a cold wet
evening in that season or the year which,
without biing either winter or spring,
possesses the disagreeable features of
bD b.
Montgomery was sitting in the hall
way of a deserted building as she came
up. He was crying softly. The news
paper woman stopped.
"What's the matter, my boj?" she
asked.
"None of yer business!'' responded
Montgomery, promptly.
But jou're crying," she persisted,
amused.
Free country, ain't it?" was the boy's
answer.
The newspaper woman walked on a
few steps; then she turned back.
S3j," she Baid, "I haven't any friends
either. Come on and goto supper with
me. I don't like to be alone.''
Montgomery wavered.
"Come on," said the newspaper wo
man. Montgomery went.
After supper Montgomery escorted her
to the door of the newspaper office where
she was employed. From that day they
were fast friendp.
He fell into the habit of loiterirg near
the office door at the time of clay when
Miss Dodge would be coining down.
When they met she would say:
"Hello, Montgomery! How's your end
of the profession t"
And Montgomery, swelling with pride
at being thus included in the limit of
journalism, responded.
"Out o'sight. How's yours?"
Miss Dodge bad designs on Montgom
ery. She meant to civilize him. She
invited him to call on her precious leis
ure Sunday, once a fortnight. The boy,
however, refused.
"Downtown it's all in the perfesh," he
exclaimeJ, 'an' it's all righ; but up to
your place it's sassiety, an I ain't in it,
see?"
It was early in the winter. The news
paper woman was rushed t death. She
rode home on the very last car, and the
three blocks from the car line to her
house had more terrors for her than she
would have confessed. There were two
nigbtB when she felt that someone was
following her. Terror lent wings to her
feet. The next nibt a backward glance
showed her a figure following her again,
shrinking along in the shadow of the
trees. It Ehowtd her, too, a familiar
something in the figure's waik. She
stopped abruptly.
"Montgomery," 6he called, "come out
from behind that tree!"
For a moment there was no response.
Then Montgomery slouched into sight
and came shamefacedly to her.
"You see," be said, ''it's awful for a
lady to be out alone, an' 1 thought I
thought"
Then a remarkable thing happened.
The newspaper woman stopped, gave
him a tremendous hug and kissed him
square on his freckled cheek. It made
him feel uncomfortable, butsomehowhe
was glad afterward to remember it.
It was a busy winter, socially and
politically. There was news, and im
portant news, too, on foot.
There weie rumors of an insult to the
flag in foreign waters, though no one
could say that the thing had really hap
pened, nor what would be the outcome
of it.
It was late in the evening of a day
that had been exasperatingly barren of
developments. Montgomery was on his
way home. As he passed the White
Houso two men came out of the gate.
Their coats almost brushed the boy. but
they did not see him. They stopped
while the elder lighted his cigar. Mont
gomery heard the words:
'The president approves your course,
then?"
"Ultimately, I think he will. We de
mand zn absolute apology, or well,
we'll forge one."
"If he does not approve it,what then?'
The man had moved on, but Mont
gomery had caught the word "resign."
In a Hash he thought of miss Dodge.
He stood still awhile and repeated the
words softly to himself:
"Al salute apology force one re
sign." He r' cognized the speaker dimly.
Where had he seen him before? It
flashed over him in a moment. It was
the Secretary of State!
It was nearly midnight. He must get
it to -the newspaper woman before eh
went home. He bent his head ar.d
dashed down the street. It was a "bf at,"
the biggest one of the season, and she
should have it. fie Hashed pat-t corners
blindly. Far down the btrcets he could
see the office lights. He must get there
before she went home. Two blocks
away a block away half a block away.
He was crossing the laat street. Some
body yelled at him. He could not spirt
the time to pause. Tbero was a ring of
hoofs, a shout from somebody, a whirl of
lights, and Montgomery was flung to
the pavement, dazed and bleeding.
Somebody ran to help him, but he was
on bis fett again.
"Don't stop me, don't stop me,'' he
said, dizzily; "lerame go, for God's
sake! '
Somebody tried to stop him, but he
stumbled on. The offici lights were
shining in his eyes, and he knew he had
beaten the town.
And that is how it happened that a
few hours later, when the last lire of
copy was in, and the news that should
make tomorrow's paper the sensation of
the world had already had its startling
headlines scanned by the proof reader,
that a small boy with a paleface and a
bandage about h's head s it at a bat quet
titer than he had evtr dreamed of. It
was laid in tie city editor's room, ani
the managingeditor himself whh present.
II- shook the boy's hi.nd and tbankc 1
him. ami the ci'.y editor slapped him on
the b ick.
Bat the very proudest moment of a 1
was when the newspaper woman leaned
over him and said:
"Montgomery, you are a credit to the
profession.'
He was afraid she was going to kisa
him again, but she didn't. Washington
Post.
8SS3