Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The courier. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1894-1903 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 17, 1901)
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1 THE GREATEST SAIsB EVER HELD IN LINCOLN
THE SMiE f OR EC0H0flCI-Ai 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 SAbE at extra
ordinarily low prices.
6c Silver Gray and 25c Brooches, Stick 8-4 UnbleaoHed
Black Prints, Pins, Hat Pins, Sheeting-, yd.,
yard, , Cuff Buttons,
8-4 Bleached, yd.,
1in00S C$ lC B1CP 25c Irish Linen
10c Quality Loom End Sale, Wrfti p
Soap, Loom yard, , v
End Sale, ea:, ' x P01"10' .
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.
ONE OP THE NORTH MEN.
For The Courier.
It is said tbat Merry Eagfand, the
England of Arden and of Robin Hood
and gay Queen Bees, never came back
again, after the men of cropped beads
and straight collars had followed Oliver
Cromwell through her palaces and court
yards. And certain it is tbat in our
frontier posts and river stations, on the
march between our two oceans, those
places where the circuit rider passed,
retained their touch. Fierce and vehe
ment, it might be, as the railings of Eli
jah, tender and passionate often as the
heart tones of the Prophet of Love, al
ways with a mastery and an authority
not often heard today, voices in our wil
derness proclaimed their message.
What of these pioneers, of our social
republics, the fathers of our religious
democracy, the ehepherda of the souls
of our patriarchal period? We know
what they did, for their works remain,
a solid bulwark for the American Drey
fus and StambulofT, a safeguard in the
shelter of which the protected outcast
becomes the privileged outlaw so
bountiful is the great brotherhood; ia'
strong the kingdom of conscience found
ed by our grim forbears. A line of otnfc-1
uary record, a note in the conference' I
minutes of some more or less obscure
denomination, a song that rises to the
lips and eyes when troubled times dark
en over, these are the chronicles. What
of the men?
The 'North Han who rode along the
river in Illinois and Wisconsin and
Michigan, sixty years ago, and lived in
his own despite, and in the despite of
Eliza Ann, his wife, was essentially a
frontier preacher. When the settle
ment grew closer, wheu the roads were
laid out, and the smoke of forest firea
began to sweep away to the north, James
MaUhiason put together his Napoleon
and his Bible, and Eliza Ann packed
the remainder of her Canadian domestic
paraphernalia. The twinB, with Charles,
John and James, mutually packed them
selves. A great tide was setting toward a
farther river, and in one of the white
bonneted wagons, like Rebecca among
her father Laban's goods, sat Eliza Ann
with Adah and Zellah and Charles and
John and James. James, senior, walked
usually beside the caravan, with the
wind catching his grizzled temple locks
and the round fringe of his beard. He
had never enjoyed mount or gig of any
description since his last ride with
Cromwell II., in Canada West. He
walked by day, and was satisfied to let
another ride at night around the circle
of the camp. It was meet that others
watch the slumbers of the Lord's An
ointed. Moreover, he was made to feel
oven more patriarchal before the pil
grimage ended by becoming the father
of Dorcas, also.
Not that Eliza Ann was fond of Bib
lical appellations, or the seraglios and
concubines of Old Testament history.
Eliza Ann was performing her duty as
it was pointed out to her by Genesis and
by the Reverend James Matthiason. If
her children seldom saw her smile, they
never heard her scold. The one differ
ence she had, in the course of her life
time, with James, senior, had been out of
the memory ot her children. It con
cerned the naming of the twins.
When it was clear that both her first
born should live, a great peace of moth
erhood entered Eliza Ann's heart. In
the placid, painless moments that came
only after hours of pain, to the life of
Eliza Matthiason she threaded names
together names of her stately Canadian
aunts whom she remembered in feathery,
Irish point, and Gne old Irish courtesy.
She recalled the names in the stories of
her aunt Margaret, and by and by she
found the two members of a couplet
whose cadence soothed her anguished
nerves and filled her with content
Caroline Amelia and Adaline Adelia
were the names; the first was for. the
little twin that had been left to wail out
its first faint cry; the first was a prettier
nime to Eliza, and she felt a sense of
reparation satisfied in the adjustment.
But it needed a stiff Scotch person of
the last half century to rediscover the
implied arrogance which the Norman
bride asserted in her double name.
Double names were superfluous in the
eyes ot the Reverend James Matthiason.
Noah and Abraham had none. Neither
did Miriam nor Judith nor Joel have
need for furbelows of nomenclature.
The Book was filled with names good
and holy. No Matthiason needed more.
And even the example of Eve and
many more Scriptural moth are were un
availing for Eliza. "Wives, be obedi
ent to your husbands," ended the Bib
lical discussion, and the mother shed a
few tears of weakness and disappoint
ment, and felt her heart turn from,
Adah and Zellah.
Meanwhile the white tops of the mov
ing wagons grew grey with Iowa dust,
and the eyes, weary of long rolling
curves, saw the lines of prairie huddle
into whiter bluffs, and they knew that
the muddy river lay before.
Adah and Zellah with Charles and
James respectively nestled in their
Btnall laps, Bat close to the puckered
oval at the rear of their wagon, and
watched the pink sweet slide from under
their trail, as the wagon moved over.
They wanted some of the flowers, but
would as soon have asked the roadside'
itself to bend up and reach in some
stalks, as make a similar request of the
man who walked there. Little John,
drivipg, would stop by and by and climb
out to loosen the bridles and let the
horses drink. Then he would stoop
down, drink long and deep, and hand in
some flower heads, along with the dip
per of water "for mother."
This time she did not answer quickly
to the chorus, "Do you know these kind,
She drank the water, with two tears
in it, and long after the answer which
they choked had become a twin lullaby
for Charles and James; she lay with
closed eyes under the hot canvas folds,
seeing the two beds of sweet Williams
in the old Canadian door yard. She saw
the oxen come up to the gate, with a
great load of long, straight, resinous,
fragrant trunks. The yoke creaked as
the load halted, and the driver came
around to the kitchen door to ask:
"Where's that turn-over, 'Liza Ann?'"'
watching " 'Liza Ann" more than the
turn-over while he ate.
Patsy Kane had slipped suddenly out
ot Eliza Ann's life, on the day of Janet
Matthiason's funeral, and his face re
turned now as part of a dim phantom of
the du3ty plain, a mirage of cavernous
forest and cool, dim snows, set in Can
adian winter air. The vision floated
along in the dusty bows of the moving
wagon, as it slid lower and lower and
lower along the edge of the Missouri.
To tho man who walked beside the
wagon, tho voice of bis mission was as
strong and unequivocal as when first he
heard it from the lips of his dying
mother. While there were frontiers to
pace and perilous ways to tread, be felt
his spirit thrill with the glow ot battle.
To the woman within, the helpmate of
his perils but not of his conquests, tho
face of the wett was vast and menacing,
and her sole comfort the vision of the
old home of the past.
B etternot be at all than not be noble
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