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About The courier. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1894-1903 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 7, 1903)
6 THE COURIER JUQonskwTinh Che Sterv of a fitro's Xfh IndkMlhn Dead-ripe lemons fell from the un stirred boughs. I sat beneath with a gourd of sparkling water that the guide had brought me from the river. I took some lumps of sugar from my saddle bags, reached for an Immense lemon and made n drink that seemed divine. "Laurie should have come with me," I said to myself, thinking of her as she might be driving down the avenue, for it was afternoon In New York and pos sibly chill and stormy. I could see her shivering for all her furs and ostrich plumes, hating the wintry cold even as I should hate It when 1 returned. How content 1 felt In this gracious sunlight, with thi breezeless air, faintly fragrant, amid lonely splendor, where bird and In sect and river-How made royal chorus and human footsteps hardly came! We had crossed the ferry the guide and I. "On which side will the senor wait while I swim the mules?" he had asked. "Row me over and go back for them," I had answered. "If they drown and pull you under I can easier walk down to the coast than climb back to the capi tal." With reproachful shrug he had obeyed. I saw him in the little boat, dragging the patient animals by their bridles, anon whacking them with his funny old paddle. They were not eager for the bath. They were mid-stream. I lowered my gourd and watched. And now I saw someone approaching the ferry, on the farther side, even as we had approached a short time since another traveler. His pack mule bore no luggage, nor had he a man. He dismounted, watched my guide spring ashore and drag the mules up the bank; then he put his hand up and halloed across. My guide turned and waved him a reply. "It is Finl." he said; "If the senor does not mind I will go back for him." I said. "Of course. Is he going on this steamer?" "Who knows? He never goes on the Bteamer." I remember having heard of this foreigner who had lived many years In the country- He had no family; native servants kept his little house. He had acquired land, raised stock and sold it. He had prosperity without ties or amours. He received no foreign visitors nor letters from the north. I had felt some curiosity about him, but not enough to be guilty of Intruding. As he came up the bank I rose and met htm. The animals shook themselves and dripped. "Quite a little knack In that," I said, with a friendly nod. He glanced at me. Inclined his head courteously and said with pauses between his distinct words," "I do not speak English." Then, "Peut-etre monsieur parle Fran cals?" I answered. I had lived In Paris. We sat under the tree. The shade allured and we had ample time to make the next stopping place. The guide lay down for a nap. t "Monsieur sails by this steamer?" In quired the stranger, with a glance at my steamer trunks. I was carrying all sorts of queer stuff to Laurie. "And you?" I asked. "I shall not sail." I laughed. "I don't blame you. This is a strange and glorious bit of Paradise. I wouldn't go back, only, you see my was silent. He put up his hand 'and wiped his moist brow under the JlpIJapa hat. I stared at the hat enviously; it was much finer than the one I owned. And at that moment my glance fell on a scar on the man's left temple. It held my gaze fascinated for seconds that seemed many times as long. Then he drew down his Jipijapa and I looked away. Through a wood near by rang a bird note that seemed to me far off In another world almost. The fragrance of the lemon tree was gone or become an other perfume, fainter, of a northern clime. It was a remote summer time. There were roses In the air. In the great window of an old-fashioned library sat a child of seven: myself, much Indulged by my father, the dignified doctor of philosophy, who was instructing a young man of twenty. It was Sanskrit that en tranced them. My father was an au thority, and his pupil apt. "Run to your play," my parent had hidden me. "Oh, let the little chap stay," said Harlan Hume; "he is going for a walk with nte afterward." From that day Harlan Hume was my hero. It gave me stupend ous emotions to listen to his description of the accident In which he had received the terrible scar on his temple. As I grew older I was able to divine an un confessed heroism by which he had spared a schoolmate's life and honor. Hume was fond of country walks; many an afternoon we had rested on pleasant banks. And always my gaze had stolen to that fascinating scar. How those hours of more than twenty years agone came back to me as I sat here with Monsieur Flnl at my side! How those years had run away! Summer after summer Hume had come to my home for his vacation until he finished at college. Then he had gone to live In Paris for a year or two. Later my father had watched with pride the opening of the young man's career his "early successes at his profession In the metropolis. Then TO FIGHT FOR EIGHT HOUR LAW bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbBE JiB bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb! The American federation of labor, with Samuel Gompers at the head, will make another big attempt to extend the influence of the eight hour labor movement already in operation in so many trades. This is the latest photo graph of President Gompers, who is a man of very few photographs. came that frightful day when the cloud of everlasting disgrace followed the leap ing flame of exposure and engulfed young Hume. My father read the news with blanching lips. "The boy Is Inno cent!" he cried, and staggered from the room. Harlan Hume would make no de fense. The girl he was soon to marry Implored him, but finally renounced him. Her family took her away. "He would defend himself If he could," people said, shrugging. "No sane man would do otherwise." It was a revolting crime with which thuy charged him. Others said, "Why didn't the fool fly?" There were no relatives to fight for him. His fiancee's family was silent. So Hume went to his punishment My father, already feeble, weakened by the shock, succumbed. Hume also seemed dead to us; we were doubly In mourn ing. Hume's term of Imprisonment was not very long, yet he seemed only a shadow of the past when one day a para graph spoke of his release and located him in the south. Months passed and again they spoke of him as having died alone and miserably poor in an ob scure lodging-house in New Orleans. Only distant relatives were left and they would not own relationship nor bring his body back. It had been burled in the same awful shadow that had blackened his bright beginning. How the time had flown! If Harlan Hume had been living he would have been about the same age as the man who sat beside me. Monsieur Finl was darker of complexion; he did not wear glasses Hume had been near-sighted; the doctors had told him that it would pass in time. And Hume would never have grown a beard. I hardly knew why I should think of this or why I should say presently, "Those are peculiar bushes on the bank across the river, are they not?" and wait a little breathless for the answer. It came after a brief pause. "There is much that Is peculiar In this country." What was there evasive? Why had I expected him to say, "Which bushes?" or "I cannot tell at this distance." Forces were at work within me making my heart beat more and more rapidly. I knew not why. I glanced at the man and his eye; met mine. A look was In them that reproached me, like that of a dumb brute at bay. Of a sudden a sense of meanness overwhelmed me the un speakable meanness of one who robs a grave. What right had I? A desire to atone a revublon shook me. "I want to ask you to excuse me for what may have seemed rudeness. I think I have stared at you. It was because I was reminded by the scar upon your forehead of someone I once knew. I never thought to see another scar so similar." He did not alter visibly in color or ex pression. "I also," he said, "have seen two such." "I find that curious," I said, unspeak ably relieved that he showed no resent ment. "And may I ask about the other person?" "It was a man named Hume," he gravely answered. "Ah!" I gasped, "Harlan Hume! You knew him but where?" "You also knew him?" he echoed dully. "Why, yes. He was my friend. My father loved him." Monsieur Fini did not move nor speak. "He loved him!" I cried, this time in English. Fini started. "You heard." he said, slowly, "that he died In New Orleans?" "It was there you knew him?" "I was at- his bedside." "For God's sake tell me of him. If I could have known have gone to him and told him we always knew It was not true!" I rose agitated, and walked a MISS LIPPINCOTT, . . . Studio. Room 66. Bwwnell Block Lessons In Drawing, Painting. Pyrotu, raphy. Wood Carving, improYM uwna Kiln, China decorated or fired. studio omn Monday. Tuesday. Taurs- i . . "" M B ., ana om day. Friday. 2 to 6 D V to U m. .turday. DRS. WENTE HUMPHREY, DENTISTS OFFICE. ROOMS 26, 27. 1. BROWNELL BLOCK, 137 South Eleventh Street. Telephone, Office, BO. C. W. M. POYNTER. M. D.. PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON. Phones: Residence, L99G; Office. LUttL 1222 O Street. DR. BENJ. F. BAILEY. Residence. Sanatorium. Tel. 617. At office, 2 to 4; Sundays, 12 to 1 p. m. DR. MAY L. FLANAGAN, Residence, 621 So. 11th. Tel. Kf. At office. 10 to 12 a. m.: 4 to 6 p. m. Sundays, 4 to 4:30 p. m. Office. Zehrung Block. 141 So. 12th. TeL 618 M. B. KETCHUM, M. D., Phar. D. Practice limited to EYE. EAR. NOSS. THROAT. CATARRH, AND FITTING SPECTACLES. Hours, t to 5; Sunday, 1 to 2:20. Rooms S13-314 Third Floor Richards Block, Lincoln, Neb. Phone 846. J. R. HAGGARD, M. D., LINCOLN. NEB. Office, 1100 O street Rooms 212, 213, 211 Richards Block; Telephone SSL Residence, 1310 G street; Telephone K9B4 sfeu&Tv&rijhi Cycle Photographs Athletic Photographs Photographs of Babies Photographs of Groups Exterior Views V- The Photographer 129 South Eleventh Street Many Things are Dear . . . But the dearest of all is Inferior work. My PAPER HANGING, PAINTING, and INSIDE DECORATING will always bear the closest tax spectlon. PRICES THAT PLEASE. CARL MYRER Phone 523S 2612 Q STREET This Picture was made from a kodak photo of a Nebraska baby whose parents reside at Fairfield, Nebraska, and own a Schaff Bros. Piano. The Schaff Bros. Co. are using this cut for a catch 'ad." all over the United States, and call it "Cupid at Play on the Schaff Bros Piano." By the way. have you seen the new 20th Cen tury High Grade Schaff Bros. Piano? It is one of the finest Pianos made.and can be seen at the ware rooms of the Matthews Piano Co. yjt Lincoln, Nebr.
