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New Ulm weekly review. (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, May 22, 1878, Image 3

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The Pilgrim's Song.
How sweet, as we're floating on life's chang
ing billow,
Like mariners \oyaging over the foam,
To think of the dear ones in yonder blest har
bor,
And the beautiful songs they aie singing at
home.
How sweet to be thinking of pearly gates open
And angels in white robes so spotless and
fair,
With golden liarpsjnnging in mansions of
glory,
And sweet songs of love floating soft on
the air.
How sweet to believe that our Savior is Jesus,
And trust in His stiength as we're gliding
along
His love will ne'er fail us it guides us for
ever,
And tills our glad hearts with a beautiful
song.
How s-n ect to be singing, wnile or'er the
waves gliding,
And praising the Lord with our heart and
our song,
And working and praying that others may love
Him,
And ioin in His praise as we're floating
along.
HOAV sweet to be thinking of angles and loved
ones,
And joys that await us in Heaven above'
Sweet strains will be floating, when Jesus
our Savier
Shall welcome us home to the mansions of
love.
Dear Savior, we thank Thee, A\ love Thee,
and tiust Thee
We'll bing ol Thy love as we journey along,
And, oh, when we enter the hai bor of Hea\en,
We'll praise Thee again with a beautiful
song'
CALLED TO ACCOUNT.
A DECTn S STORY.
Some years ago, when I was quite a
young man, I was sent down to Evan's
Corner's about a big lobbery that had oc
curred, and while I was thare, working
the thing up, my attention was attracted
by A pretty girl I used to see at the hotel
where I stopped. Nobody could help
noticing her. she was a beauty. Her hair
and eyes were very dark, but her skin
was as fair as a lily, with just a dash, of
red that came and went in her cheeks.
Her foim was slender, but well round
ed, and her hand was as white and finely
foimed as any lady's in the land. Her
name was Rose Wynne, atd of course she
had plenty ot admirers, hut she coquetted
with them all. However there w"ere two
who were long ahead of the others. I
used to wonder which she liked the best
but 1 could never guess, for while she
smiled sweetly on one, she would fling a
merry woid at the other, and so on. Both
young men were good lookingone fair,
the other darkand both were carpenters.
One was called Andrew Davis, and the
other Maik Sheldon.
Sheldon was a jealous fellow, and
show edit, Davis was jealous, too, but
didn't show it so plain. Sheldon was
always in a quirrel with her. Davis, 1
fancied, was angry enough at her coquet
teiies sometimes to eat her, but he never
let on.
Hose Wynne knew I was a detective,
and had a sort of awe and curiosity about
me. Many a yarn I told her, some true,
some not. It was so pretty to see her big
eyes kindle and grow bigger.
I used to joke her sometimes and try
and discover which she liked best, Davis
or Sheldon. But she would never tell
mc.
"S^e here, Rose," I said to her one day
when she had been playing those two
chaps off against each other pretty lively,
you'll have those foolish fellows righting
about you if you're not careful."
"I am much more afraid of one of them
fighting me," she laughed.
"Whichone2"
^-iin*^ --a~ niBtf fij--^ fyJit^W|fft.iSfeM
I asked, laughing too
but I thought of Davis' glowering looks.
''Guess," she said.
"They've both got tempei, too much ot
it."
"Andrew Davis hasn't much temper,"
she said.
"I shouldn't like to be in your skin if
you ever jilt him lor the o*ther," I an
swered.
"Why not?" she asked.
"Never mind," I said "but if you ev
er make up your mind to marry anybody
beside Andy Davis, don't do it while he's
around that's all."
Rose glanced to where Davis was
standing, on the other end of the veran
dah, watching us, though he pretended
not. Then she looked back at me.
"Well you're solemn enough about it,"
We both laughed, but I said, shaking
my head:
"You know that 1 do mean every
word."
"Well, I'll tell you what I'll do," sai4
Rose. "If any harm ever comes to me
through either ot them, I'll promise to
come to you, Mr. Sharpe, or send my
ghost to tell vou who did it. And you
must hunt him down for it. Will you
promise me that?"
"Yes, I will," I said "and there's mv
hand upon it."
And we shook hands, had a laugh over
it, and thought the last of it ot course.
Well, I went away soon after, and it was
a year almost to a day before I ever saw
the place again. Then I had almost for
gorten there was such a person as Rose
Wynne.
The case I was on was a very import
ant one, and I didn't want it known I was
around at all. So I had disguised my
self in a farmer kind of a rig, that I don't
believe my own mother would have
knowm me in. I had stopped at a cheap
lodging house at the end of the town, be
cause I suspected some of the gang I was
after frequented it. 1 $
I'd had my supper, and gone to1
my
room to sit by the window and study a
bit about the business in hand. I am
positive I wasn't thinking ofRose Wynne.
I don't believe I had thought ot her since
I got there, my head was so full of busi
ness.
My room was on the ground floor, and
the window was open. It was growing
dusk. It wasn't a very nice part of the
townlots of roughs about, you know
so when I saw a woman standing all at
once there under my windowalone too
I thought it was very queer but when
she looked up, and I saw it was Rose
Wynne, I thought that was queerer yet.
She was all in black, even her head
was wound about with thick folds of
black, and never had I seen her so sad
and solemn. She came close to the win
dow and looked up at me.
Mr. Sharpe?" she said.
f'
I jumped for you see I did not think
any ony would know me, fixed up as I
was. and I said in a whisper
"Is it really you, Rose? Don't speak
loud, please for I don't want to be known
here."
She went right on without seeming to
have heard me.
Harm has come to me,"' she said,
and it was Andy Davis. Remember
your promise."
And then, all in a flash, she was gone,
and I couldn't have told where, up,
down, or 'round the corner of the house
only she'd gone, and I hadn't seen her go.
As I sat staringjout, with her words going
through and through my head, I began
to feel kind of creepy and odd. Now, I
don believe anv one who knows me
would call me superstitious. But all at
once, as I sat theie, it came over me that
that may be I had seen Rose Wynne's
ghost instead of herself. She had cer
tainly spoken and looked very strangely
for a living woman.
Then I laughed at myself for the fan
cy.
"Sharpe, old follow," said I, "you
know there aie no such things as ghosts.
What in the name of common sense are
you dreaming off"
And I put on my coat and ha^t and
went out into the town to see if I could
learn anything about the business I had
come down there upon.
Every now and then as I walked along
in the darkness the thought of Rose
Wynne would come over me with a kind
of thrill, and I seemed to hear her say
ing:
"Remember your promise."
I tried to shake off the impression, but
all to no purpose, and at last I stepped
into a store and said to a clerk, a fellow
whom I recognized as one of Rose's old
admirers:
"Is there a young girl living round
here by the name of Rose Wynne? 'Cause
I ve got a letter tor her."
"Then you've got a letter ior a dead
woman. "Rose Wynne is dead drowned
in the river."
"Who did it?" I asked, turning cold.
"Did it herself, I suppose. I never
heard of any one else being accused of
ii
And why should she? Where is Andy
Davis*"' I blurted out, before I knew
what I was about.
"Oh, Andy went away ever so long ago.
I guess Rose and he were engaged. It
was thought that they quarreled maybe,
and that was why she drowned heraeM."
I did not continue the conversation but
left the store and went back to my room.
That night I dreamed that Rose came
to my bedside, and stood looking at me
just as she had under my window, and
said:
"It was Andy Davis remember your
promise.'"
Well, I made some more inquiries
round and I found the general impression
was that Rose had drowned herself, just
as the clerk had told mc. The body had
never been tound, but she was missing,
and her handkerchief and gloves, and the
hat she worn the night she disappeared,
were picked up on the river bank. The
water was very swift here, and it was gen
erally believed the body had drifted out
to the lake
Well, I had some pretty curious
thoughts. Was Rose dead or wasn't she?
At all events there was a mystery, and I
was just the fellow to ferret it out. The
first thing was to find Andy Davis. So,
just as soon as I had got through the
business I was on. I started on his track.
I was obliged to hunt for him much
longer than I expected but I found him
at last. The longer I looked for him the
more I suspected" he had something on
his mind. People with clear consciences
ain't, as a general thing, so hard to find.
Well, as I said, I found him at last, work
ing on a farm, and he a carpenter by
trade. He was a good two hundred
miles from Evan's Corners, and he'd got a
new name besides that.
He called himself Thompson, but he
could't Thompson me, I knew him the
minute I put my eyes on him. He was
at supper with the man he was working
for and the other farm hands, and I stood
and watched him through the kitchen
window some minutes. He'd changed a
good deal, got thin and yellow, and had a
sort of hunted look in his eyes, that set
tled his case for me then and there. I
never saw that look in an innocent man's
face.
The kitchen door stood open, and I
walked in without any ceremony, and go
ing directly up to him I laid my hand on
his shoulder.
"How do you do, Mr. Davis?" said I.
You should have seen him. I've had
some experience with frightened rnen,
but I can safely say with truth, that I
never saw one so scared as he was. I
never in. my life saw a face turn so white
as his did. First he jumped up and look
ed around as it he was going to run, then
he sat down again and set his teeth hard.
You see, he recognized me and knew
that I was a detective.
"My name ain't Davis," said he, glow
ering at me with eyes like
coals.",I
don't
know you, sir."
"Your name is Davis, and I Mow ybu
if you don't know me." I answered in a
low voice. "Who do you suppose sent
me here after you?"
His eyes almost jumped out of his head
and his teeth would chatter in spite of
himself. m?t
"Rose Wynne sent me," I went on
"you know what for."
When I said that, the wretch fell n
hisI'll
knees and fairly
howled,
for mercyi
confess," he shrieked I killed
her, I did. I'd sworn Sheldon shouldn't
have her, and I killed her to keep hex
from marrying him. She said she'd haunt
me for it. She said she'd come out of
her grave t: hang me, and she has kept
her vow."
I took him back to Evans Corners as
fast as we could travel, and lodged him
in the prison there.
The trial ca.ne off in due time. There
wasn't one atom of evidence that he did
the deed, except his own confession to
me. He hadn't opened his lips to any
one since and when he was called upon
to plead Guilty, or not guilty," the vii
lian answered Not guiltv," after all.
As he said the words, there was a slight
stir among the crowd behind him. He
looked round, and something he saw
there turned his face chalky.
He gave a sort of gasp, staggered up
on his feet, and fairly screamed out
Guilty!" and fell down in a fit.
They carried him out writhing and
foaming at the mouth, and as they did
BO, a woman dressed in black came for
ward and threw back her vail. It was
Rose Wynne alive and standing before
us more beautiful than ever.
"He tried to kill me," she said. "It
was not his fault that he d.d not succeed.
1 had been engaged to marry Mr. Shel
don along time, but because my father
was opposed to him and favored Mr.
Davis, we had kept the engagement a se
cret from every one. I had gone out to
meet my promised husband, and as I was
crossing on the railroad bridge over the
river, Andrew Davis came fiorn the other
side and met me. He told me if I did
not promise to marry him then and there
he'et throw nie over the bridge into the
water. I was always afraidf of him he
had sueh a savage look in his eyes SOIBP
times, and I knew him to be terribly
jealous of Mark Sheldon. But I would
not promise him anything of the kind. 1
could not believe he would really carry
out his threat, and I expected Mark
would come every minute.
"When he took hold of me, ani I saw
he was in earnest, and really iatended to
drown, me I struggled with him, and told
him if he did harm me, I'd have him hung
for it, if I had to come out of my gravs
to do it. And I also told him I was going
to marry Mark Sheldon, and that I had
tome out there to meet him. For I
thought perhaps it would scare him if he
thought Mark was anywhere around.
But he suddenly snatched my shawl off
me and wound it round my head to keep
my screams from being heard, and the
next moment he lifted me in his arms
and threw me over into tne river. He
nid not know that I was an expert swim
mer: but befere I could free myself from
the folds of the shawl. I had gone under
the water twice. The second time I rose
to the surface I swam toward the bank,
but the current was so swift I would inve
itable have been drowned if Mark had
not come just then, in time to save me.
Davis had run away as fast as he could,
and he did not know that he had failed
in killing me, after all. The shock was
a dreadfui one to me, and my fear of
Andy Davis was so great that I begged
Mark to hide me from him, and from
every one, and let it be supposed that I
was dead. So then we were married, and
went away from this part of the country
for several months, till we heard that
Davis had gone away, when we returned.
But I kept close, and let no one but my
own folks know I was alive, for I was
determined that Davis should be punished
in some manner. So I never went out
without a thick double veil over my fjice
for I was afraid of Davis yet.
"Then, one evening, I was riding with,
my husband, when I saw Mr. Sharpe sit-"
ting at a window. He was disguised,but
I recognized him, and I remembered that
he had once promised to help me if I
ever needed his services. So I went up
to the window quietly, and spoke to him,
and told him abont Davis, and that is all.
I didn't want the man hung, of course
but I do hope he won't be allowed to
murder me, as I am sure he will want to
when he finds I am not dead."
But Davis was past doing any one any
urther injury. The wrench went from
one fit into another, and finally died, lit
erally frightened to death. And so his
sin had certainly found him out.
Why A Schoolmaster Left Town.
A Virginia City man, sajs the Chron
icle, who fromerly taught school ir
Honey Lake Valley, has been telling
DanDe Quille why he left that rural
region. While employed as teacher, it
seems he boarded "around," and one
night, while at the house of an old ranch
man, gave one of his boys some extra in
structions in geography. The old man
overheard him telling the boy that the
earth turned around once in twentv-four
hours, and kicked" against it. He said
he had heard such stuff talked, but there
was nothing in it, he could prove. He
filled a tin cup with water and set it on
top of his gate-post, saying:
Now, young feller, if the world florg
over, as yon say, the1
water will be ai)
out of that Gup in the morning, and yon
will be right, if the water is still in
the cup, I'll be right, and the world
don'lt: Ann rvn-a-r *j5&4a.
don' flop over.
The water was found in the cup7 and
the old man triumphantly exclamea:
Thar, give mo common sense anytime
against book-larninV' Jp
Word went "forth in the neighborHS&d
that the*teacher was an ignoramus, ind
he was invited to take a walk. A report
ter asked the ex-teacher if that was the
only reason the farmers had tor bouncing
him. He said it wasn'tthat he had
incurred the deadly hostility of one of the
school trustees by laughing uproariously
at a question put by the old man. The
honest farmer had got hold of his son's
a -SsfiS-
geography, it appears, and there had
read that the earth had a rotatory motion.
He called on the schoolmaster next day
to ease his mind in regard to an agricul
tural problem which this had suggested.
Say, profess," he remarked, I've bin
a readin' in Tom's joggerafy that the
yearth hez got a rot-tatery motion' and I
I thought I'd jest ax you ef maybe that
wasn't the cause of the pertaty rot?"
How Torn Marshal Cleared a Kentucky
Bar-Room, if-v^"^^
Tom Marshall was a noted practica
ker, at all times and under allcircum
stances. An excellent story of his abil
ity in this respect is furnished by Mr.
Childs, of liexington. Kentucky. Mr.
Childs had just gone from the old town
of Harrod, who was the first settler of
Kentucky after Daniel Boone, and the
chief inn in that old "burgh" was newlv
exchange! tor the Phoenix Hotel, of Lex
ington. In the new hands it grew very
popular: in part,because the best chicken,
ham and eggs, and "peach and honey"
of the Sta-e was to be found there, and
in part because sweet little Des, or Des
dernona, or Puss, as she was variously
called, was the landlord's daughter
Southern idlers of means are the
supreme loafers of the earth, but the ex
tent they loafed to get a glimpse of her
was awful on the supply of chairs and
fireplace room that one hotel could offer.
Leslie McMurtry, a very pale and spirit
ual young gentleman from the old place
of abode, was the worst ot these, and a
you.ng gent who comes as an uninvited
visitor and boards free at a crack hotel,
"because Puss and I used to play hide
and seek out and under the beds, you
know," soon becomes tiresome. The love
ly girl soon had a friend ana allv in Tom
Marshall. It was the day of Chiistmas
Eve, and a deep snow had fallen, but
Leslie McM., had come in the Harrods
burg stage"just tu see how you are, you
know, and brought a pretty lace collar
out of father's store for Puss, we used to
play, you know, etc."
Desdemona, with red cheeks, was seen
to lie in wait for Congressman Marshall,
at a dinner-'able, and lead him awav
somewhere. Afternoon has come, and
the great old-fashioned fiieplace of the
sitting-room was so piled with hickory
and maple logs, and to sit near it made
such an intense smell of burning panta
loons, that theie was no longer that chief
bore, who, to talk to you comfortably
stands between you and the fire, liut
wide as the half circle had to be, to pen
that fire, it existed, and not another
chair could be got in, from jamb to
jamb, by any process of squeezing. Tom.
Maishall came in with his accidental sort
of way, but popular as he was, and M. C.
too, not a chair was hitched back one
inch to give him room. The day was
very cold, and every guest and loafer was
bearing all the heat that Kentucky )eans
pantaloons could. Center of the arc, with
legs wide apart and smiling as if the
Phoenix existed on his patonage, was
Leslie McM. Tom Marshall disliked the
lad, for he had once most unexpectedly
been floored by him. It was on the former
visit, and Tom had been swearing with
his usnal extemporaneous profuseness.
Do you know God, Mr. Marshall."
Not personally," said Tom, with a"
wink around his admirers.
"Then I think," said Leslie McM,
that you make very free with stran-
gers." -f
Tom touched the landlord on the
shoulder, in that congeential way always
understood to mean Mint Jufepa" in
summer and "brandy cocktail hot" in
this season. They went out and each
"took something" (in -a tumbler,) and
then Tom said: Wouldn't you like to
clear out some of those loafers who never
pay a dims to the house?"'
'Very much," said portly Mr. Childs.
Then you get mad and just cut up
strong at anything that 1 do," said Hon.
Tom.
They went in, and Tom carried from1
a
table in the bar-room a seeming grocer's
parcel in brown paper that might con
tain about four pounds. He squeezed
into the circle at the landlord's corner
and remarked as he kept turning about
to gave his coat tails from scorchm**.
"What a capital day for hunting!"
There was a choius of assent, and
leslie McM., who would as soon thought
of holding a live rattlesnake as a gun,
said ""C-a-p-i-t-a-1 I have just
bought four pounds of DuPont's best rifle
powder," and he tore off a corner of
his parcel and poured out a handful and
threw it under the fire.
An explosion followed that lifted every
man slightly from his seat and scattered
ashes all over the hearth with some live
coals. Leslie looked seasick, and Mr.
Childs said: "What d'ye mean by that?
You had better "blow a man's house up'
and be done with it!"
"Don't jaw me," cried the fiery Tom.
"I'd as soon |u the whole four pounds
behind the backlog as look" at you."
"I dare yau ta exclaimed the angry
Childs.
"Dare!" said Tom, an4 he crammed
the package behind the log and leaped
for the doer.
Then the forty odd persons the great
room wanted to go, and "stood not on
the order of their going." The strongest
got to and out of the doors. The next
best leaped through the only street win
dow, glass and all piled up in lour feet
of snow. One spiritual form, used only
to the yard stick and kids, and troubled
with the long legs of an undeveloped
youth, had no chance with those stalwart
Kentuckians who were hero scions of
MacAfees, Prathers, Shelbys, Magoffins
Boyles and Boones.^ He ^could. not get
out. and the explosion only'delayed) a
second, and he got behind the door, and
folded his hands, as when a sweet little
child.
He had just begun-"Now E lay me
dewn to sleep, I pray" when he heard
a titter at the door. Heopened his eyes
and looked, and there was pretty Des
demona laughing at him.
He sprang for her, caught her in his
arms like a young lion, and kissing her,
said: The house is about to be blown
up but I will die with you!" and ran
with ner down the passage, forced a
window in the parlor, and leaped with
her whole weight into the garden.
It was only sawdust in the rest of the
paper, and Des and Tom knew it. But
she knew that Leslie didn't know it, and
love for her had made a hero of him.
Tom had succeded in all that he had
hinted to the landlord, and for months
there were Lexington loafers ready to'
light out if you only innocently said:
it's a fine day for hunting." ,t
Mark Twain as a Keporterv
Tne reporters during this period were
Frank W. Gross, lately Secretary of the
Superintendent of the Mint, 0. W. Crock
er (dead),W. K. McGrew, E. C. Stock,
Sam C. Clemens Mark Twain")all,
with the exception of the latter, industri
ous and useful in their places. In saying
this we do not wish to detract from Mr.
Clemens at all but truth compels us to
state thatj one of the best American
writers, in his way, and who has made
wealth and fame by his pen, was the
most useless local repoiter it has ever
been our lot to meet. The business at that
time necessitated, of course, a good deal
o'" nyfcical activity, and for this leason
,jjy, we suppose, the work was not at all
Clemens' line. An amusing and char
acteristic instance of this may be given:
Mark," said the managing editor to
him one day, there is a riot going on
amon the stevedores along the city
Iron4-.g
Ge the facts and make a
column." -T~
Ya-a s," he responded, with his in
imitable diawi but how can I get
them9
there's no" street railroad down
that way. You wouldn't want a fellow
to walk a mile to see a c-uple of'long
shoremen in a fight, would you?"
Mr. Clemens remained in the office
about six month. The want of a more
active man tor leporter became pressing,
as the paper was snffering in its local
columns. At last the managing editor
observed one day, while he and Clemens
were sitting in the editorial room:
Mark, do you know what I think
about you as a local reporter*'
Well, what's your thought?n
"That you are out of your element in"
the routine ol the position that you are
capable of better things in liteiature."
Mark looked up with a queer twinkle
in bis eye.
Oh, ya-a s, I see. You mean to say I
don't suit you."
Well, to be candid, that's about the
size of it."
"Ya-a-s. Well, I'm surprised you
did*t find that out five months ago."
There was a hearty laugh. He was
told his unfitness foi the place was dis
covered soon after he entered upon it
but he was aliowed to lemain till he had
made the "stake he wanted
Mark is rich now, and deservedly so.
He is famous also. But they were pleas
ant days in the lang syne, it he was poor,
when Soule, Ayres, Barnes, himself and
McGrew formed the whole staff of the
Call in the cosy editorial rooms on Com
meicial street.tian Francisco Gall.
|^S
A Plea lor the Minister's Wife
GRANDMOTHER.
I have been thinking a good deal late
ly about ministers and their wives. Per
haps the reason is that the wives wear
out so soon. I have seen women who,
only a little while ago, were young,
blooming brides, grow pale and thin,
and look as careworn as women of fifty,
while their husbands were young and
bonnie as ever. I do not believe that a
real healty minister's wife can be found
in all New England that is, after they
have been married half a dozen years. I
think they are an abused class of human
ity. Who cares how hard they have to
work? No purses are ever made up to
'send them on European tours. Who
ever thinks of the unending stream of
visitors that are forever going to the min
ister's, to "isit and call, not counting
every minister that comes to make a
hotel of the parsonage. Then the minis
ter's wife must attend every prayer and
conference meeting, in ail parts of town:
she must be president or chairman of all
the societies' that are gotten up for vari
ous charitable purposes she is expected
to do her full amount of sewing for the
Circle* and in fact about three times as
much work as any Woman in the town.
Now, if I were a minister's wife (and I
reckon it is a nice arrangment for some
people that I am not), I shordd rebel.
If they expected me to work for the
societiey and the church, I should have a
salary and if 1 did more work than thj
.minister did*.I should demand a salary
accordingly. Ui I 1&3i!i/
What right have a community to ex
pect, or require, all these things of a lit
tle, inexperienced.delicate woman! Just
because she happened to fall in love and
marry a clergyman,isit anyreason why she
should be made a slave, for the conveni
ence of the people in his charge? Her
husband works for the good of his church
and society at large, and he Jia* his pay
for it. Why should not^his wife have
pay too?t She might then be,-expected
to bave*an outside interes*, and 'well
af
ford to hire her own work done.
It is all wrong to demand more from a
ministers wife than from the decon's wife
or the doctor,s wife. Does society ex
pect these women to devote their lime
and strength outside of their' homes and
families?"
Opersonbut
no! a
'is a different1
wifedn entirelminister's I She ca
so much good! Pay her for the good!
she does, I say and remember that she
is mortal, and do not expect her to suffer
martyrdom for the sake of the church
and people.
im ^spsaswiKfcigs-fisgsw
^i

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