Newspaper Page Text
We cannot anchor In thy hay.
There is no holding ground; We cannot linger by the way. Our barque is outward bound; ' Tet. as we skirt thy blissful shore. We fain would with hee stay. For we shall never see thee more. Sweet Island of To-day. We know not whither we are bound. We sai) the unknown sea; We seek a port where may be found Our heart's desire, yet we Know not our course, with wind and tide- We simply sail away; Tet we would fain with the abide.. Sweet Island of To-day. , W. Harry Stone. tJTEATT POKES1 RMJUI (Copyright. 1905. by . For a long time I held the dainty, violet-scented envelope unopened In my hand. What train of memories this pink envelope and that subtle fragrancy of violet' brought to my blase heart! How it recalled the hot years of my youth during which I had sown a rather profuse crop of wild pats. At that time those scented notes, some pink, some blue, some lavender, had formed the bulk of my correspondence and had carried with them the delightful touch of intrigue which a wild youth would naturally crave. But to-day, why should I re ceive one I, a married man? I turned the letter over three or four times, then tore it open and read the following words written in a crumpted handwriting I had never seen before: "Dear Old Tony Though it may be folly to make such invitation to a married man, I risk it any way. I will be this evening at 10:30 in room No. 16 of the Bon Ton Cafe and will wait for you. "One who loves you, "Z." I was astounded. What could this mean? Who was this mysterious "Z" who could be so bold as to make such rendezvous at the Bon Ton, one of the gayest restaurants of the city! ( In my younger days I wouldn't have hesitated a second but now I had a wife, a weak, babyish; clinging crea ture, whose childish ways were some what tiresome, that's true, but whom I deeply loved. I crushed the note with an impatient gesture, then lit a match and watched it burn, a right eous frown upon my brow. Such fol lies were not for me. I would not go. By six o'clock I had changed my mind and had persuaded myself that my very life depended upon my going to that rendezvous. For the first time since my marriage I was embarrassed before my wife during the dinner, which I barely tasted. I could only reply in monosyllables to her gay, childish prattle. When dinner was over, and as the maid removed the dishes, she came , and sat on the arm of my chair and with her fingers tried to erase the frown which my conflicting thoughts had caused to gather on my brow. "Is my darling worried about some thing?" she asked, as her blonde head nestled on my shoulder. "Yes, sweetheart," I replied, thank ful that her eyes were lower and she could not see my face. "I am more than worried, for I am deeply disap pointed. I had planned to spend the evening with you, as usual, but a business appointment with a man from out of town will call me back to the office this evening, and it may he midnight maybe latere before I can get home. With her eyes still averted from mine, but with a little quiver of the body, like a child about to sob, she said in disappointed tones: "You surely are not going out again to-night. Can't that horrid business wait until to-morrow. A married man should stay home with his wife." That last sentence sounded as a re proach to my already alarmed con science, but I again forced" it to sil ence by assuring myself that my sole "Why should I receive oneT reason for going was to protect this tender, clinging girl from some bru tal revelation of my pas, wayward life. "Yes, yes, I know," I hurried to reply, "but it is for your sake, little one. that I must go." "For my sake?- she questioned with pouting lips, but still without looking up. "Yes. for your sake, dearest. Is It not" for you I work, to give you all these fine clothes in which your sou! delights, this home which is the envy . of other women, this " "She threw her arms aronnd my , Daily Story Pub. Co-J neck, and sealing my lips with a kiss, cried in a nervous, half-sobbing, half laughing voice: "Oh. I know that all women of our set envy me, I have everything I want but, oh Tony what I care for the most, what would kill me to lose or share with another, is your love I could not live if I thought that you could even thick of another." That old nuisance of a conscience again raised a reproaching voice and I was about to say that business could wait and that I would not re turn to the office, when a vision of that pink, violet-scented note passed before my mind's eye and my good I pulled back the hood, and then started back with a cry. resolution came to naught. I must know the author of that letter. I bowed to my wife passionate pro testations of love, I soothed her half hysterical emotion, then getting into my overcoat, I made my escape. Instead of taking the car, I decided to walk down town. It was yet two hours to the appointed time and I wanted to collect my thoughts. I did not feel at my ease, I knew I was do ing wrong, yet I felt powerless to re sist, and I walked and bit discontent edly at my cigar. When I reached the business part of the city it was still too early so I amused myself by walking past the lighted stores and watching the crowd which passed and repassed in never ceasing flow. So keen was my preoccupation that I forgot myself in the maze of my thoughts and only returned to reality when my eyes encountered the white dial of a street clock, and I saw that this indicated twenty-eight minutes past ten. I reached the Bon Ton cafe just as the clock struck the half hour. As the flunkey showed me up to room 16 he winked in a knowing way and said "Deuced pretty woman, but so ner vous and timid. Hasn't been a round er long." More anxious than ever I followed my guide. Before No. 16 he paused, saying: "She's in there, waiting for you." "Has supper been ordered?" I asked. "No, sir. Shall we send up some thing, 'sauterne' and oysters, for in stance, followed - by " "Yes, perhaps," I interrupted, hast ily. ''But wait until I order. I will ring if we -want anything. He bowed and left me. All this was so familiar and yet so strange, that my head was in a whirl. "Time to retreat," kept saylrg the still, small voice of duty, but I had gone too farr I must know all. I knocked. A sweet voice called to enter. 1 opened the door and stepped in. At the farther end of the room, a wom an sat," huddled in a chair, a dainty white and pink opera wrap covered her shoulders, the hood of which con cealed both her hair and face. I hesi tated, my heart thumped disorderly against my bosom. At last, oppressed by the mysterious silence. I walked resolutely toward the woman who had not stirred since I had entered, well, I m here. I said in tones I tried to make stern. "Will you kindly tell me the meaning of your note. Who are you, anyway?' With a quick movement I pulled back the hood, then started back with a cry, the mysterious woman was my wife! A peal of hysterical laughter greet ed my discomfiture, then Metta's voice said: "So this is the business, this Is the way you love your wife, this oh, my heart is broken! And before I had time to recover from my astonishment, she had drop ped back on her chair, her bosom con vulsed with wild, passionate sobbing. "In an instant my resolution was taken. My future happiness depende4 on my regaining Metta's confidence, half of her love depended on the blind trust she had placed in me. I was on my knees before her in a minute and was saying in tones I tried to make stern and commanding: "See here, Metta, don t be a fool. Do you think I would have come if I bad not recognized your handwriting. Poor little girl, you did try to disguise it, but such things don't -work with eyes sharpened by love. I knew that you had written the note but the idea struck me as novel, this mysterious meeting in a down town cafe with my own wife. So I let you come." . Well, if sometimes Metta's childish, trusting mediocrity of intellect has fatigued me, I blessed it that night. since thanks - to it, sne credited my words and saved me from a very awkward position. Only I can assure you that I have sworn off answering pink notes or vio let scented ones. STRIKING FACTS ABOUT SLEEP. One of the Most Mysterious of the Ways of Nature. "Shakespeare," said a scientist, "called sleep the ape of death. That is a striking name for a striking thing. Sleep is a wonderland. Let us. ex plore it. "Self-hypnotism is a mysterious force that we can exercise on our selves in sleep alone. We are all self-hypnotists. We a", on certain nights, tell ourselves firmly that we must not oversleep, that the next morning at 4, at 5 or 6 precise ly we must wake up. Our sleep ing selves respond to the hyp notic suggestion made the night be fore by our waking selves. That is mysterious and striking, isn't it? Still more mysterious and striking, though, is the fact of our keeping track of the time somehow in our slumber. How on earth do we do that? It is impossible to do without sleep. Men have slept standing, even running. They have slept in battle, under fire, with guns roaring on all sides. . They have slept in unendur able and deadly pain. 'There is no torture equal to that which the deprivation of sleep entails The Chinese are the cruelest folks on earth, and the most ingenious of tor turers. Well, the Chinese place the deprivation of sleep at the head of their torture list. Sleep is a state of rest. The heart rests in sleep. The heart is a rhythmic muscle, not one that never reposes but one that works at short shifts, like a Duddler. a moment on, a mo ment off. Well, when we sleep, the heart's shifts of rest are redoubled. It works then, one on, two off, getting, indeed, pretty nearly as much repose as we do. 'The brain in sleep becomes pale and sinks below the level of the skull. When we are awake the brain is high and full and ruddy. 'Not only the brain and heart, but even the ear glands rest in sleep. That is why when we awake we al ways rub our eyes. The rubbing is an instinctive action that stimulates the stagnant tear glands and causes them to moisten properly our eyes all dried from their inaction." Wanted to Be in Time. I would like to look at some house hold goods," said the tall brunette as she entered the big furniture store. 'You see. I expect to be married soon. 'Ah, indeed," smiled the polite clerk, "just 3tep this way. We have special inducements for young cou ples just starting in housekeeping. When Is the glad event to come off?' 'Well er the day hasn't been set as yet." "Oh, I see; the lucky young man has just proposed and " 'No, he hasn't proposed yet. but " 'Ah, he is going to propose. How long has he been calling?" "Well, he hasn't started calling yet, but " "What is the young man's name?" "Really, I don't know at present. but mamma says she thinks some nice young man will start calling soon, so I wanted to be in time." Musings at Night. Late, late.- so late We learn the way to live; Late. late, so late - We find what life may give: We spend our years with lavish hand Their worth we do not understand. Till, late, late, so late. Late. late, so late We learn what living means: Late. late, so late We prise the dew-hung scenes; We fling away the coin -of youth And do not learn to prize the truth. 1 ill. late, late, so late. Late, late.' so late We learn how sweet Is love; Late. late, so late We find 'tis from above; We loiter In forbidden ways And do not learn to hoard our days. Till. late. late, so late. Late. late, so late We learn the gold from dross: Late. late, so late We learn to kiss the cross: We prize our youth when It takes flight. W e do not read life's book aright. Till. late. late, so late. Chicago Chronicle. Plenty of Bait. "Dear me," pouted the young -wife. who was wedded to a disciple of Izaak Walton, "I don't see why a man can't go fishing without carrying a horrid bottle." "My husband never carries a bot tle." confided the matron next door. "How nice of him." "No. he carries a demijohn. But my grandfather was a great fisher man. He never carried either a bot tle or a demijohn. "Noble man. He must have been splendid." "Yes. he always carried a keg." -r-t.M---.M------M. THE STORY -f4---4--t-4--r-M--M--t Almost hid beneath a mass of creep ing, - thick-leaved vines, inhabited by owls and bats and infested with. snakes and insects, their gray stone walls crumbling and falling down from age and decay, says Perl W. Morgan, in the Kansas City Star, are the ruins of old Quindaro, three miles above Kansas City on the Kansas side of the Missouri river. Like some flitt ing mirage of a stormy, almost forgot ten period, these old ruins are a grim reminder of a "future great" metro polis that, for the brief period of its life, was the most promising town on the Missouri river above St. Louis. The history of Kansas contains no chapter more pathetic than that which tells of the rise and fall of some of the early towns. They exist to-day only in memory, or as ruins that stand as monuments to the misplaced Judgment of brave and loyal men. Their aim was to lay the foundation, on Kansas soil, for the great city that some day would be the gateway for the tide of humanity and commerce that was to forever flow from east to west and from west to east. And there were nine of these "gateways" scat tered like beacon lights along the Missouri shore in Kansas. They all flourished for "a time in the territorial days of the '50s. Then in the early days of statehood in the '60s they fell, one , by one, as victims in the tragic conquest of development oefore those rival towns with which chance and fate seemed to deal more kindly. Atch ison, Leavenworth and Wyandotte survived. The latter becoming a part of Kansas City, Kas., shared the good fortune which the railroads brought to Kansas City, Mo., and the 'gateway" was builded at the place where the, Kaw, flowing through Kansas joined the Missouri river. And this brings back the story of old Quindaro. What kind of a town was it? Ask some of the men who were there in the palmy days; there are a few of them left. An old steam boat captain whose name has escaped me. once said of old Quindaro: She was the rippinest, snortinest thing that ever happened while her paddles were workin. an' they wa'nt no bloomin' side-wheeler a-goin" to catch her when she was a-throwin" soap suds. But she struck a snag an' that was the end of her." He was about right. A lot of Free State boomers started Quindarb. The towns of Kansas City, Leavenworth and Atchinson were considered pro- slavery ports. The Free State people wanted a "port of entry" of their own, for the emigrants from the East who were flocking to Kansas, so they start ed Quindaro. The land -was purchased from some Wyandotte Indians and in December, 1856, O. H. Bassett, a surveyor, staked out the townsite. It had a long frontage on the river where the rocky shore afforded a permanent harbor that would not be affected by the shifting, sand that so often chang ed the channel. It ran hack across the stretch of bottom land and up the jagged bluffs for an average distance of three-quarters of a mile. Three months after the townsite was laid out- a big four-story stone hotel, the largest in the country, was opened. It had forty-five guest rooms, and it was full all the time and guests were sleeping on the office floor and in the halls. The boom was on. Free State people were coming with a rush. They were men of means. They put money into the town. Big stone business blocks and warehouses went up on the levee and frame dwellings were builded on the hills, many of them with the front ends standing on stilts Great stocks of merchandise were brought to the place and a large trade was established with the interior. Churches were erected by the Metho dists and Congregationalists. A stone school house was also erected and the largest saw mill in Kansas was started up. It had a capacity for mak ing 16,000 feet of lumber. There was a big wood yard along the levee, and tha eiterprisinsg town company threw in an extra cord with every cord bought for a steamboat. Along with the advancing civilization came a newspaper, the Chin-do-wan, published by J. M. Walden. - The name signified "Leader," and it was well-named. By mid-summer of 1857 Quindaro . had every other city on the river well- nigh off the map. Shares of the town company's stock were popping out of sight. Speculative values in real estate were correspondingly high. They had auction sales of lots, and the lots brought $150 to $1,500, according to location. The town was named in honor of Mrs. Quindaro Guhrie, wife of Abelard Guhrie, vice president of the town company. She was the daughter of a chief of the Canadian Wvandottes. and the Indian name ment "in union there is strength. It was a good name, for every man woman and child who landed here went into business of pulling for the town. Strong men were they of old Quin daro. Men of energy and wonderful resources of mind. 'mey threw themselves into the enterprise with a determination that presaged success. No problem was too great for them to undertake. When the demand came for a ferry, a ferryboat was put Into service between Quindaro and Park Tille on the Missouri side. Captain Otis Webb was in command and it was one of the finest ferryboats on the river. A stage line was opened to Lawrence. Thea the Quindaro Towa OF QUAINT company sent an agent to Cincinnati He bought the Lightfoot, a light draft steamer, and brought it up the river, and the company established a regular packet service between Quindaro and Lawrence up the Kaw river. The time came when railroads were needed, and the Quindaro Town company was into the game at the start. The Quin Jwo, Parkville &. Burlington Railroad company was organized to build a line to Cameron ' to connect with the Hannibal & St. Joseph. It was never built but that is another story. There was some shrewd Yankees connected wih the Quindaro - Town company, and they knew a thing or two about the value of printer's ink. Correspondents of Eastern papers were entertained royally and in return they sent back columns of stuff about Quindaro. Horace Greeley wrote for his paper that Quindaro was destined to be the greatest inland city in the continent, or words to that effect Booming the religious side, as they lid the free state and temperance pro clivities of the town. The Congre gationalist Independent and other deuom. national papers in the East were full of stuff about Quindaro. They published glowing accounts of the great trade lines converging at Quin daro, and told how it was to be the great center of religious influence for the country west of the Mississippi river. We used to read those articles back in Vermont, and how they filled the people with the Western fever," said a pioneer woman of Wyandotte wno, with her husband, was attracted to Kansas by these publications. And those Quindaroans! They were the wildest boomers that ever struck the West. It was a species of town- building madness. But was there not good and sufficent reason for it all? What city in the West offered better advantages or gave greater promise at the early period of existence. A stranger, dropping off a steamboat. would first smile at their enthusiasm. In a day he would catch the contagion! Then he would be as wild as any of them. He would put all of his money into the town and send back home for more. The glory of old Quindaro faded in the war times. In five years from the time the town was laid out the pro perty could not have been sold for one-tenth of its value. It was argued by some that the location was uninvit ing, that it should have been bui.t. further down the river near the mouth of the Kaw. But whatever the cause, the war had something to do with its failure. The frequent raids of euer- rialls and border ruffians in Kansas made property insecure. The lives of the Free States were imperiled. Many left for other parts, others joined the army, and only a few-remained. Then troops of the Second cavalry were stationed there and the horses were stabled in the warehouses, there was litle left to protect. The town went down. Steamboat traffic ceased, the railroads were built to Kansas City, and that was the last of Quinsdaro. There are only a few of the men of old Quindaro. now living to tell the story- They are scattered here and there about the country. Joel Walker was president of the town company and Ableard Guhrie, who ran an under ground railroad during the war, was vice president, while Charles Robinson who was to be the first governor of Kansas after it became a free state, was treasurer. All three are dead. Samuel N. Simpson, secretary of the company is the only survivor of the original officers. He is engaged in the real estate business in Kansas City, Kas. George W. Veale, who was a big merchant in Quindaro, and who was for many years tax commissioner for the Union Pacific in Kansas, is a resident of Topeka. V. J. "Lane, editor of the Wyandotte Herald, was" one of the citizens of Quindaro, and it was he who purchased the Chin-do-wan before it suspended publication. Sam Smith, who was Governor's Robinson's private secretary, lives somewhere in New England. R. M. Gray, a citizen of the Quindaro of the present day, which is a suburb of Kansas City, Kas. was one of the early comers. Syl vester Dana Storrs, a member of the famous Andover band, which landed at Quindaro to begin the work of mak ing Kansas a free state, and who or ganized the Congregational church at Quindaro, and many others who had to do with the old town, have passed away. There were plenty of. politics in Quindaro in the territorial days. Leavenworth county extended all the way down to the state line and em braced all of the present county of Wyandotte. Naturally the politicians up there tried to run everything politi cally. One day in 1359 a crowd came down to Quindaro from Leavenworth to hoid a Democratic rally. Charles Glick, a brother of George W. Glick, who was afterwards governor, was a favorite son of old Wyandotte. The Leavenworth fellows were jealous of Glick and planned to" keep him from speaking, but Glick fooled them. ' He slipped out into the crowd and asked an Irishman to call Zor him t speak. "The meeting was going along smoothly," said V. J. Lane, who tells the story. "The Leavenworth speakers were coming on and off the platform when the Irishman began to. call out "Gleek Gleek! The chairman of the meeting would hold up bis hands to OUINDARO I quiet the Irishman, but as one speaker would leave and another would take his place the Irishman kept up such a racket that the chairman finally motioned for Click to take a seat on the platform. When the speaker finish ed Wyandotte's favorite son arose to deliver an address on the Democratic issues. He had uttered only four or five- sentences when .that Irishman, again -owled. -Gleek,' Gleek! The chairman arose and said: "My friend. Mr. Click is now ad dressing this meetinsg. "That a dom lie! He is the man who asked me to call for Gleek.' "And Charlie Glick ran his hands through his hair and went on with his speech." A Great H it. "My wife made a decided hit at the church social last night.' - "I don't doubt it. I bet she was the firest looking lody in the room. "Indeed she was, (but she made another kind of a hit. " They were throwing bean bags at a dummy, three throws for a dime, for the benefit of the hospital fund." "Hit the dummy three times?" "Oh, no, with the first bag she hit a tray of dishes on the opposite side of the room. Cost me $4. Great hit." Kansas City Drovers Telegram. Bad Accident. "Had bad iuck with my automobile last night. Ran into a buggy and bent both of my axles, punctured a tire and busted the gasoline tank. Terrible expensive!" "Too bad, too bad! Anybody hurt?" "Nope, no one but the man and his wife in the buggy. They were killed. Couldn't get out of the way in time, you know." The Color Line. If, as is now claimed by an eastern Individual, St. Peter is or was a color ed man, the "white trash" will have a hard time getting past him, while the mere fact that "culled pusson" pur loined a nice juicy hen while living in Denver will not. be considered so serious as to bar him from the New Jerusalem.-r-Denver News. Arranging His Toilet. The king of gamblers sat alone With a mirror in his hand; One of his Fridays came along And took his watchful stand. ""Why this mirror, O my king?" Thus did the Friday prate. "That I might see," the king replied, "If my lid is still on straight." A. XT. Mayfield, Denver News. Warping the Scripture. A sympathizing friend stood over the little casket. He wanted to say something that might console the mourning ones. He could think of nothing more befitting than a pass- age from holy writ, but this Is the way he delivered it: "Blessed are they that die at the eleventh hour." He Might as Well Go Back. If Hall Caine has come into the land of plenty with a view of taking his "Prodigal Son" home with him, he might just as well go back. Since the lad has been circulating in America he rather likes the taste of husks and will stay with us. Denver News. Taking No Risks. "I need more money," said the fly ing-machine inventor. "But I thought the machine was fin ished," replied the capitalist. "It is, but I've got to hire a man to fly it. Do you think I want to get kill ed?" Cleveland Plain Dealer. When All Others Fail. Dispatches tell us that but for a heavy rain which set in just as the fire department had exhausted all its en ergy, Butte, Mont., would have been completely wiped from the map. An other evidence of the necessity of be ing in touch with providence. The Right Idea. Miss Alice Roosevelt, who will send a sewing machine to the empress of Japan, has the right idea of spreading civilization in the Orient. She evi dently believes there is more to be gained in sewing machines than sow ing missiouaries. The Morning After. Boston preacher has the audacity to say that "Colorado, like hell, needs more water." My, what a thirst he must have had the morning after he made the rounds of Denver. Denver News. Her Test. Her Do you think this photograph, looks like me? x Him Yes. Her Then all fs over between us. I know now that you are in love witfe me for my money alone." More Steam Needed. Many a time it is the preacher that ails the congregation. -You can pull a heavy train up a hill with a pony engine. Denver News. It is very easy to make excuses for those we love. . It does not take much courage to be a hero in the homelight. The older a man is the farther he could jump when a boy. Did you ever have as good a time on your vacation as you anticipated t ,