The courier. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1894-1903, August 10, 1901, Page 8, Image 8
THE COURIER. S 9S3HS3HS3HS8 S88S8 tlUflf H THB GREATEST SAL.B EVER HELD IN MNGOfeN LOOM END SALE I 8 SSfcKro 1 A I THE SMiE FOR EC0tl0V0&i SHOPPERS 50 Cases of MILL ENDS, Short Lengths and Odd Lots received during the past few days have been marked and will be OFFERED FOR SALE at extraor dinarily low prices. SMiE COVMEHCES SKfURDJN, Mlfc. 0- HERE'S A. SAMPLE ITEM. Five cases of Wash Dress Goods in Loom Ends, Remnants and Short Lengths, all colors, all designs, "worth regularly to 20c yd., all in one big lot, during our Loom End Sale. . Hundreds of Other Such Bargains, &m ONE OP THE NORTH MEN. CATHARINE MELICK. Fee The Courier. Ill When a man's whole life !b db voted to the crucifixion of the flesh, what wi!l he do with the arrant little animal which we call a child? When a woman de rates herself to the temple of her house, prostrating herself upon its bare floors before she will soil a snowy counter pane with crease or wrinkle, how will she welcome the dauby little fingers of babies? It depends. It Reverend James Mathiason had not quoted Genesis to Eliza Ann, his wife, it might have been different. Even a leas discriminating person than his rev erence would have noted Eliza's prefer ence for self-immolation, and would have forborne to exhort. But it was the vocation of James Matthiason to tell people of their obligations. When, at a "revival" meeting, word was brought to him that he was the father of twins, the same respoeibility entered his soul as when word came, after a "last warning" that a member of his audience in hear ing of the prophecy had fulfilled the same by dying. It was an unusual ac cess of the feeling that he was a shaper of hsman destiny. Lines of patriarchs with their wives and flocks stretched out before hisaaind: they marched through wildernesses, and their enemies fled be fore them. That night he preached with each, fervor that many fell on their faces, though an old itinerant there shook his gray locks and sighed: 'Fishers of men," be said to his gray hatred wife beside him, "fishers of men. Yon angler throws out his line, and 'says, 'Bite or be damned!'" And the two-iwgac to soothe a trio of round cheeked little girls, who were crying at the ahoBts and groans around them, and the fierce accents before. All unconscious, the lean young rider stood, his 6inewy fingers shaking man and woman and child over the fiery gulf of perdition, his voice gathering fixed ness as iho thpught began to form with, in him that his own flesh and blood must now suffer the inevitable chance of a lost race. The little twin was crying. Its moth er heard it, as she lay quietly, with the Btrong-flsted, healthy child at her side. The pale, thin little thing in the other room would not live, they had said. So they had left it there. The mother needed care, and the hearty child. Eliza Ann lay very still, her eyes fixed on the unpainted door, one black braid slipping from under the white frill of her cap. Now and then she tried to push back the braid, then she lay still and listened. The wail was very feeble. It grew more and more faint, until it died away. From the opposite door came con fused sounds; moving of dishes, opening and shutting of drawers, stove lids clanged clatteringly, and voices talked together. Presently all became silent, and the kitchen door opened a little way. "We're going to have prayers now, mother." She did not turn her head, but closed her eyes. A steady intonation from the half opened door grew in distinct ness. "If a man have a stubborn and rebel lious son, which will not obey the voice of bis father, or the voice of his mother," came word by word. Eliza could fancy every movement of the long, thin lips. "Then shall his father and bis mother lay hold on him, and bring him to the elders of his place" The child at her side stirred. For a moment she heard nothing. "And all the. men of the city shall stone him with stones that he die. So shalt thou put evil away from you. And all Israel shall hear, and fear." The unction with which the last words were uttered, sent a deeper pallor for a moment into the strong face of the list ener. She made a movement as if to pull the patchwork counterpane over her face. Then she shut her lips hard and listened, in the pause, for a sound from the bedroom on the other Bide. All was still. Not the thinnest little plaint. Dully her eyes rested on the door-latch, the tiny squares of the window pane, beyond which leafless apple trees were Bhowing black streaks where the snow that lay in the crotches trickled down the grey bark. Presently, in the kitchen, there was a shoving of chairs over the bare floor, and mechanically Eliza Ann closed her eyes. When the long prayer ended, the door was pushed quite open. "Could you hear, Eliza Ann?" "Yes." She did not turn her face, which was toward the unpainted door. "Eliza Ann" the man walked around to the other side of the bed, facing his wife, rested a Bible on the green head board, and looked solemnly at the tiny face in its folds of flannel, "Eliza Ann, we've a duty laid upon ub both, which the Lord will requirn at our hands. Better that this child belike the other, than that we should let it grow up in stubbornness and rebellion." The woman closed her eyes, "Take it away," Bhe said slowly, as if looking through the unpainted door. Her husband opened the door, which scraped on the threshold and stopped half way. He pushed through, and the mother heard him walk heavily across the room. He came back quickly. "Sary!" he called. A red head was thrust in from the kitchen. "Sary, you'd better get another blan ket, and wrap this one up, and look after it. It's breathin' natural." He walked with the Bible out of the house. "Sary" lifted the child, and looked queerly from the stern face of the moth er to the retreating form of the father, as she passed through Eliza's room to the kitchen stove where an old woman sat. And the girl started, as she slip ped the tiny bundle into the nurse's lap. "I've seen a month-old baby with no humaner eyes than them, granny. It looks as it it knew" "They docs know," muttered the crone, holding the little bird-claws to the grate. "Them that leaves a infant to die, comes to it some day. That's gos pel for him." M. H. Wall, Helena, Montana, bad to resort to a newspaper list of daily ar rivals at hotels to learn where be was staying yesterday, says the Chicago Kec-ord-Herald. Ho walked into the Great r Northern, and, approaching Clerk Ar nold, said: "Please give me the key to 840." That room being occupied by a regu lar boarder, the clerk suspected that a mistake had been made. "Why, I am sure this is my hotel.'" said the Helena man. "I took a 'bus when I arrived in town and came hero by way of a boulevard." Then the clerk scanned the list of ar rivals in the newspaper and at length found "M. H. Wall" in the column of Auditorium guests. "That must be me," said the mac "Thanks for helping me locate myself " Young Huiband Yes, dear, you look nice in that dress, but it cost a lot of money. Young Wife Dick, dear, what do I care for money when it is a question of pleasing you? Tit-Bits. i( H