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About The courier. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1894-1903 | View Entire Issue (May 11, 1901)
THB COURIER 4 1 mm fjmm 77IC? uuinmLii UUIIULIU r- a& xl. ti4 W M1K L xTOx Ih&JK' J flMa I rS!x A very attractive line very at tractively oriced dup tn tW fact that we've watched the whole-; j'Vtvm s"c marKeis cioseiy ana let nothinsr $r i in th wav nf rrnnA nnnn-l..:4-:, , ..j ,.. vfv upiui tuuitica cs-i cape us. we considered tnis pur chase a rare chancR anri nrpPf if t i M" r . . - now ior your consideration. Pfn ln . j. i!i.jr 4KiWf"T n.i.iruiui cuiscts, veniiiatintr, a good nttingf, well made, carefully fin-1 ished corset, the special price is.. 35c, Kabo, W. C. C. and W. B. corsets, a special lot to close, mpdnim ntidl long" waists, on sale now, each 75c ( Alaska Down hip forms, nicely trimmed, actual value 75c; the, special price 25c I Wire hip forms, excellent for warm weather, the present price is 49c SKIRTS, WAIST3. WRAPPERS. There's a big" collection of interesting values ini this stock, the result of purchasing manufacturers' , samples and taking advantage of makers overburdened with merchandise. A small profit suffices, hence such j as these: A lot of golf skirts, comprising 18.50, 10.00 and1 $12.00 goods, on sale now, each $6.00; Women's suits in black, Oxford, brown mixtures and navy blue, various styles, all new, but an incom plete line of sizes; they're worth a whole lot more, as) an inspection will prove, but to close the line we of fer them $6,751 Taffeta Silk Waists in various colors and blaok, i different styles; we fit these without extra charge, each . . . .' $4. 85 Percale wrappers with flounce, dark colors, allj sizes, each 65c Lfoibd)Mvm(fi; & IINCOIN, IVJSBR. &t W & from whom derived. 2. Family life. Resume of study 1900 I90J, literature, Miss Minnie Becker; house hold economics, Mrs. Gietzen; parlia mentary drill, Mrs. Snow. At the annual meeting of the Platta mouth Woman's club on May the third, the officers were elected for the ensuing year: Pres , Mrs. Elizabeth Travis; vice pres., Mrs. Mary Herold; rec. Bee., Mrs. W. C. Smith; corr. sec, Miss Edith Buzzell; treas., Mrs. Fanny Elson; au ditor, Mrs. Mary Rawls. The presi dent appointed a committee of three, y&oeiBting of Mrs. Tolliff, Mrs. Cole and lMisB Arnold, who could select two oth ers, to report at the next meeting upon department work and present nomina tions for leaders of the departments. Oa Mrs. Sleeth's motion a vote of thanks was tendered the retiring presi dent, Mrs. Fellows, for her two years of faithful work in that capacity. Mrs. Herold announced a review of "Quo Vadis," by Mrs. Bawls, for May the tenth. BRIEF CHAPTERS. BV FLORA BULLOCK. For The Courier The Columbus Woman's club held the last meeting of the year at the home of Miss Beeeie Sheldon on May fourth. Mrs. C. Kramer was elected delegate to the state federation, and the following officers were elected: Mrs. L. Gerrard, pres.; Mrs. L. C. Voss, first vice pres.; Mrs. J. G. fieeder, second vice pres.; Mrs. A. J. Baker, rec. sec.; Mrs. H. D. Musser, corr. sec.; Mrs. F. W. Herrick, treas. The department leaders are: Musical, Mrs. Oeer; art, Mrs. Herrick; It was not until several Sabbaths had passed, and fashionable women had ceased to be affected by the millinery problem, that Aunt Sylvia took down the green box from the closet and wore the bonnet which Uncle had brought home before Easter. I am not sure that she would have worn it then if Uncle had not said: "Come, Ma, let's put on our new bunnet and go to church.' She was surprised. Uncle could never be coaxed to go to church. She hustled around and got out his clean clothes and helped him "wash up," with something of her old cheriness. She bad to hurry to get ready, then, and so, when she came to put on the bonnet, her cheeks were flushed prettily and her hair was not so smooth as she wished. "Come on, Ma, that hair's alright. Suits me just to a T. And that bun net's more becoming to you than it is to me, so I'll be real unselfish and let you wear it. See?" She had to laugh at him. And she was amused in spite of her housewifely vexation, wnen Uncle, after the sermon, went up and asked the minister to dinner. Her mental agita tion on tbe-way home, as aha placed and patched a bill of face fit to Mi baton a kiug, you may be sure, bat aot mitiBg. her idea of a Sunday dinner for lb Minister, was apparently neither noticed nor shared by Uncle. He laughed at her after the repeat was over and the minister had gone, and said: "Why, Ma, I thought I'd give you something to worry and stew about for a whole week now. I 'spose you think that lean young chap 'II starve because you didn't feed him enough, don't you. Better invite htm again and just fill him up to the brim. I'd like to know where he'd get a square meal." Before she was through with the dishes, John, their son-in-law, came in with the two boys and little Ruth, and for the rest of the afternoon, Grandpa and Grandma were happy as only grandparents can be with the joy of loving and being loved, and only a very distant shadow of responsibility. Uncle was a silent man, in spite of bis fun-loving ways, so he did not voice his thought. Yet I know he felt glad, when he went to sleep that night, that Auct Sylvia had been so drawn away from the bitter heartache which seemed to dark en anil benumb her cheery nature or was it that she was cheerful only by a reflected light? Who could be gloomy long with Uncle near? Yet perhaps the same heartache was hie; he endured it in silence but he could not comfort, ex " cept by the little devices he contrived to bring new anxieties or trivial prob lems. People thought that Delia, Aunt Syl via's eldest daughter, had "done real well" when she married. Her husband was a prosperous merchant in a neigh boring state, he had a good property, and seemed very .fond of Delia, etc., etc. Her home would be bo near that she could often run over to see the old folks, or they could come to her. There were many thoughts like these to comfort Aunt Sylvia as she sat alone with Uncle the night after the wedding. Yet she knew it would be long before eh could be reconciled to the loss of her daugh ter. Uncle did not seem to care part ly, perhaps, because he was one of those dumb animals who are not without nerves, though they cannot tell their sufferings. Still he had never thought as much of Delia. He used to get up from the' table hastily, take his hat, and slip out of doors sometimes when she put on her school-girl airs and ridiculed the old-fashioned notions of her parents. Occasionally he broke this accustomed silence, and then the sharpness of his reprimand was awful. Her real name was Adelaide; she took to writing it so when she grew up, and tried to make him call her that instead of "Delye." He had never likod the name Aunt Sylvia got it from a novel and he said once, that if they had named her Mary maybe she would have been more af fectionate and helpful. But it was sel dom that he said anything. It only roused Aunt Sylvia, who had slaved for Delia ever since she was a baby and loved ber well, as a mother loves her first-born. So it was natural that after Delia was married. Aunt Sylvia should feel very lonely; the other children were so much younger, and were no "company" for her. Uncle suddenly seemed to take a great interest in Delia and talked about her joKingly, drawing amusing pictures of her early efforts at house-keeping and cooking. No woman on earth could have made in reality the awful concoc tionB Uncle imagined Delia as attempt ing to bake or stew. After the first loneliness wore off, he ceased doing this and gradually there came a time when she was hardly spoken of. Her letters were uncertain, and though the years rolled on she never ran over to see them, nor seat for them to cobm to her. She wrote to tsU-thsnt about the first baby whaa it wu two weeks old. but it it had not beta for Aunt Sylvia's grandmoth erly keMness. they would never have Iras whs th other babies came nor how many than were. Aunt Sylvia knew there were five, aad that the old est was named after "his" mother. She had written and asked once for their names and ages, but probably the let tai did not reach its destination, for Delia never said anything about it. From the letters which did come Aunt Sylvia made out she was very sure it was so that Delia's husband was a sort of tyrant, that she could never come to see them becaube he could not bear to be left alone, aad "could not spare the money," and so on. Aust Sylvia was very forgiving, though secretly she mourned a great deal and knew that the truth was that Delia did not care to come home. Uncle would say nothing when she complained about it, for he would not increase ber heartache, but his keenly sensitive soal knew all and felt all. If the neighbor women asked about Delia and if she were coming to see them, it was always Aunt Sylvia who answered, with what pretense she could. Only a faw sympathetic friends knew the bitter sense of neglect that Delia's name stirred; they did not ask. Mrs. Martin, a quiet woman who had known Uncle and Aunt for many years, was roused so by the ingratitude of their eldest daughter that she often said: "I tell you, I'm goiug to write her a letter and let her know just what we think of her." This she did at length, when she and other friends were secretly planning the golden wedding anniversary for the old people. It was to be a gala day, and Mrs. Martin thought that Delia and all her children must be there. Perhaps too much of her righteouB indignation crept into the letter she wrote to Delia. The answer she got telling her to mind her own business, and not be meddling with her neighbor's affairs fairly overwhelmed her. And that was not the worst. Just op the same Saturday afternoon before Easter, Aunt Sylvia received a letter from Iowa. She showed it to Uncle, when he ask ed her what was' the matter. After he read it he tore it up very, very slowly and put it in the stove. "Don't cry so, Ma; it won't do any good," he said, in a very shaken voice. "But, Pa, 1 don't see what she means. I never told anybody she was cruel to us." "No," no, Ma, she doesn't mean any thing." I do not know what was in the letter. But it must have been some thing very hard to bear; and Uncle felt it, too,-for the next morning when Aunt Sylvia came out to go to church with ber old faded bonnet on, he never said a word. "Who's that nervous old chap over there, who looks as though black care had roosted permanently between his shoulder-blades?" "Oh, he's the richest man in this town." "What gives him that worried, hunt ed look, then?" "Why, he's scared to death for fear Andrew Carnegie will give us a library, and the taxes will be increased to sup port it." Town Topics. "Did you ever visit a lunatic asylum?" "No. But I once spent a Sunday at a house party where everybody talked golf." WANTED TRCSTWORTHV MEN AND Wo men to travel and advertise for old established house of solid financial standing. Salary tTM a year and expenses, all payable In cash. No can vassing required. Give references and enclose self-addressed stamped envelope. Address Man ager, 355 Caxton Bid., Chicago.