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About The courier. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1894-1903 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 11, 1900)
THE COURIER. X : -' , tV V K V, v dier. There he is, serious as in battle, id full dress, his breast covered with decorations, eyes brilliant, cheeks Hushed in the animation of the banquet, the play, the wine. His aides de-camp surround him, attentive, eager, dying of admiration at each of his strokes When the marshal makes a point, all rush to the marker; when the marshal thirsts, all wish to prepare the drink. There is a trembling of plumeo and of epaulettes, a clashing of crosses and shoulder knots, and to see all those jovial smiles, those fine reverences of courtesans, so much of embroidery and of new uniform in that high hall, wainscotted in oak, open ing upon parks, upon courts of honor, all that recalled the autumns of Cam- pagna. ihey might rest a little, the bat "Who is there? we no sentry?" What is it? Have "But. marshal " "Very good; presently; wait my orders. ARE YOU SLEEPING, LITTLE BROTHER? . nom de Dieu I" And the window closes violently. Wait bis orders! That is what they are doing, never theless. The wind brings rain and rw. tfu. -xrSZUvtU, wtn grape shot falls in their faces. Entire Whisper still of high desire, battalions are erased, while others re- of the tread of Roman legions main idle, with shouldered arms.pow- And the purple pride of Tyre? erless to account for their inaction. On that little iron bedstead, Nothing to do They wait orders. Yet, Where I've lain so many a night, as they need no orders to die, the men Good for vanquished knights; or Caesar fall by the hundreds behind the buBhes, vj,i the Gauls are put to flight, in the ditches, in the face of the silent Are you sleeping, little brother? chateau. Even fallen, the mitrailleuse . -n tear them still, .and from their open Are you dreamin?, little brother, tp tered capotes that waited down there wounds Hows without sound the gener-(5olaWdreams that once were mine, along the roads and made such eombre our blood of France. Up there in the Glorious dreams of kingdom-sacking billiard ball is also a quickening fire; Where the tropic planets shine? the marshal has retaken his advantage, Do those dreams still dwell, I wonder. but the little captain defends himself like a lion. "Seventeen !" "Eighteen !" "Nine teen!" There is scarce time enough to mark the points. The sound o: battle nears. The marshal no longer plays for one. Sheila drop into the park. One flashes above the sheet of water. The mirror is blood-shot; a swan welters, sinks in a whirl pool of crimson feathers. It is the last shot. 4 Then a great silence. Only the Bound of the rain which falls on the hedgee, a Does your heart near burst with loving confused roar below the hill, and, upon When you hear the larks at morn, the sodden roads, something like the And you see the dew a-glisten trampling of. a troop which hastens. On the tassels of the corn ? The army is in full rout. The mashal One who never took a kingdom, has won his game. sweating at the thought of that which it would chill you to see. You can chance your weather by taking a ticket. Eighty two, eighty-three, eighty-four, eighty five. Every hundred tickets wo sell ho eats a bucket of blood. No such strenuous appetito has been KHauntinggionsf the Rhine? 1 egMlS-T000 to the wor,d- He ia not bIood rw. tfu. trv7t. nn' & -thirsty like a Boxer, lettine the blood that he lets go to waste; but, on the TO J. E. C I1Y W1LLA CATHER. Are you sleeping, little brother, In the room that once was mine, Where the night winds sing in summer 'V h groups in the rain. The partner of the marshal is a little staff captain, belted, curled, white gauntleted, who is foremost at billiards, and capable of bowling over all the marshals of the land, but be knows how . to ke?p a respectful distance from his chief, and applies himself neither to win nor to lose too easily. That is what one would call an officer of promise. Attention, young man; let us hold hard. The marshal has fifteen, you ten. It remains to keep the score so, and you will have done more for your advancement than if you were out there with the others, under those torrents of water that drown the horizon, drench ing your splendid uniform, tarnishing the gold of your shoulder knots, waiting orders which do not come. ; - ,- 11 IO IUUDDU QU IUlDtCi341Ug JflLbJ. .LUO f balls ru3, touch, cross their colors. The bands play well, the carpet grows warm. Suddenly the flame of a can non ball passes through the skies. A heavy sound shakes the casements. Everyone trembles; everyone looks anx iously. Only the marshal has seen nothing, heard nothing; bent over the balls he is about to combine a magnifi cent stroke of recoil; that is his forte, recoil strokes. But there is a new report, then an other. Cannon reverbations quicken, precipitate. The aides-de-camp run to the windows. Are the Prussians at tacking? "Vary good, let them attack!" says the marshal, putting the white. 'Tour turn, captain." The staff officer shivered with admir ption. Turenne, sleeping upon a gun carriage, is nothing beside this marshal, bo calm before his ball in the moment of action. Meanwhile, the alarm redoubles. With the reports of cannon mingles the rattle of mitrailleuse, the roll of platoon fire. A red smoke, black at the edges, rises to the foot of the lawns. All the depth of the park is aglow. The pigeons, the frightened pheasants cry in the aviary; the Arabian y- horses, smelling powder, rear in their stalls. Headquarters begins to stir. Dispatches upon dispatches. Couriers arriving at full speed. The marshal demanded. The marshal is unapproachable. I have said nothing could hinder him from finishing his game. "Your turn, captain." But the captain is distracted. This is what it is to be young. See him lose his head, forget bis part, and make stroke upon stroke, two plays in succes sion, which almost win him the game. Then the marshal grows furious. Sur prise, indignation, mount to his manly visage. At the instatt, a horse, swing ing at a gallop, plunges into the court. An aide-de-camp, covered with mud, leaps the staircase at a bound. "Mar shal! Marshal!" Behold how he is re ceived. All breathless with J I ago. auu acu as s wirua, uu uibiouh ji- pears at the window, billiard cue in band: In that little a'tic room, Do they steal and take you captive To far lands of Orient bloom? Of the camps toward the sunset, Of tne warships on the Blue; Of the Queens and of the kingdoms Waiting, somewhere just for you Are you dreaming, little brother? Are you loving, little brother, As another used to do, Just the rose because it's crimson, Just the sky beceuse it's blue? contrary, ladies and gentlemen, he thirsts for blood not yourt and mine and he must have it or perish from the face of the earth. And what would the face of the earth look like without this ornament, differing from all others oa it? Every hundred tickets we sell ho eats a bucket of blood. Eighty-six, eighty seven (tell the bucket- man to get ready) This man is not a monstrosity. Ho comes from a race of blood-drinkers. They prefer it to water, or whiskey, or any of the poisonous drinks which men take.' Eighty-eight, eighty-nine, ninety. Thank you, gentleman and lady. (Tell Jim to get the artery pump ready.) 1 see you shudder, fair one. How many? Ninety-five. Bring the bucket of blood. What a purple draught is there? Hear him rattle his chain in savage anticipation. He likes it. I must warn you peoplo not to go too close to the iron bars. He bit a finger off one of the prettiest hands that ever held a heart in it but yesterday, and the lady's carelessness cost her her loveliest phalange and us $1,000. Don't go too close. Every hundred tickets we soli he eats a bucket of blood I The World. LITERARY NOTES. The name of Thomas Cobb is not yet identified in America with gay social fiction; but from the complete novel printed as the salient feature of the "New Lippincott" Magazine for Septem ber (issued August 21) it is judged that he is destined to become as enduring a friend as "The Duchess" or Mrs. Alex ander. He has some of the charm of these with a fine masculine dash which they lacked. His Lippincott novel is called "The Dissemblers." It is about a very pretty lore affdir in which for One whose knightly dreams are fled, One whose coward lance has rusted Since his heart was broke and bled, Could you love him, little brother? I it m w t 1 BARKERS' ELOQUENCE. - Bosco Eats 'Em Alive. She eats 'em alive. Bosco the wild girl, eats snakes and eats 'em alive. She was captured in the wilds of Australia, and it took forty men to handle her with ropes. She was living on poisonous rep tiles. She eats 'em alive. It makes your flesh crawl, but not hers. It takes three of them to make her a square Jaspor I have hit on a new style of proposal and am in doubt what to do. Jumpuppe In what way? JaBper I can't decide whether to write a short btory around it or try to capture an heiress with it. Town ---Topics.. ,- .. ., y "" meal. She prefers lizards live lizards obvious reasons the future lovers pre- for desert; and for a change, she eats tended to be engaged, and the situations a few scorpions with toadstools for vee- "I tell you," exclaimed the slim indi vidual "that water is God's greatest gift to man." "Are you a prohibitionist?', asked a by-stacder, taking him cordially by the hand. "No, sir," was the contemptuous reply, "I sell milk." Exchange. thus developed are "as good as a play." Mr. Cobb has had great vogue in Eng land with brilliant novels like "The Dissemblers." Oblivion. "We write beautiful things that men may forget them," quoth a poet. "Yet who keeps count of all the roses?" quoth another. The Mirror. Miss Fickler Miss Ralston says she will never marry a man who drinks. Miss Caustique Then she'll bo a spinster. Miss Fickler Why? Do all men drink? Miss Caustique No, but no sober man etables. Yes, she eats 'em alive. Step right in. It only costs you five cents to see her eat 'em alive. Today sho will eat a raw rattle-snake (hear it rattle now), and she'll eat him alive. She'll make a raw dinner of him while he is coiling for ag- would ever propose to her. Exchan gre6sive operations. He can t rattle her. She eats 'em alive. We fed her on blue-racers for a week and she got out acd ran away from us. You know things grow, Ftand, walk and run on what they feed on. She ate a . . spreading-addcr yesterday and last A certain man was invited to speak at night 8he hj8sed in her aleep. asocial gathering, and was placed last Little is known of her history. Bosco on the list of speakers. Moreover, the ia more poisons than poison. She has Tho Rock Islantl Paying cards are chairman introduced several speakers in her in two worda of the mad Dane the slickest you ever handled. One whose names were not on the list, and that which posse3a ahoWj. but not tha pack will bo sent by mail on receipt of the audience was tired out when he said, ahow which 8he herself 5a. Remomber, cents in stamps. A money order or Mr she eats 'em alive and that is why she is dra" for 5 cents or 8ao in stamps will not only the wildest but the liveliest secure 4 packs, lhey will be sent by feminine beauty on the Island of Coney, express, charges prepaid. Address. One more ticket and she'll eat 'em John Sebastian, G. P. A., alive. Once more she feasts! The Chicago, Rock Island & Pacific R'y, "What is meant by a 'family failing,' pa?" "I never heard of a family failing, my son; it is the head of tho family that fails." introducing the final speaker: Bones will now give us his address." "My address," said Mr. Bones, rising, "is 551 Park Villas, S. W., and I wish you all gocd-night. Exchange. Geraldine If you kiss me I'll call my mother. Gerald I'd rather you called your sis ter. Town Topics. Queen of Wonders once more to her live banquet goes. She eats 'em alive. Chicago. Every J0O Tickets We Sell Bucket of Blood. "They say the supper at Finch's was a great layout." "It was for the small outlay." Every hundred tickets we sell he eats a bucket of blood. Eighty tickets are now in the hands of purchasers. Eighty one have been sold. Every hundred he eats a bucket of blood. He needs it in his veins. Why stand there in the sun He Eats a Do you get your Courier regularly ? Please compare address. If incorrect. please send right address to Courier office. Do this this week. The COURIER And any One Dollar Woman's Club Magazine 11.50
