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The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, May 12, 1904, Image 6

Image and text provided by Minnesota Historical Society; Saint Paul, MN

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83016758/1904-05-12/ed-1/seq-6/

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But as the line swung into the square
there came a moment when the tune
was ended and the musicians paused
for breath and there fell comparative
quiet. Among the ranks of the "busi
ness men" ambled Mr. Wilkerson, sing
ing at the top of his voice, and now he
could be heard distinctly enough for
those near him to distinguish the mel
ody with which it was his intention to
favor the public:
"Glory, glory, halleluiah!
As we go marching on."
The words, the air, that husky voice,
recalled to the men of Carlow another
flay and another procession not like this
one. And the song Wilkerson was
singing is the one song every northern
^orn American knows and can sing.
The leader of the band caught the
sound, signaled to his men, twenty in
struments rose as one to twenty
mouths, the snare drum rattled, the big
drum crashed, the leader threw his
baton high over his head, and music
burst from twenty brazen throats:
"Glory, glory, halleluiah!"
Instantaneously the whole procession
began to sing the refrain, and the peo
ple in the street and those in thefall
Wagons and carriages and those lean
ing from the windows joined with one
accord. The ringing bells caught the
time of the song, and the upper air
reverberated in the rhythm.
The Harkless club of Carlow
wheeled into Main street, 200 strong,
with their banners and transparencies.
Lige Willetts rode at their head, and
behind him strode William Todd and
Parker and Ross Schofield and Newt
Tibbs and Hartley Bowlder, and even
Bud Tipworthy held a place in the
ranks through his connection with the
Herald. They were all singing, and
behind them Helen saw the flag cov
csed barouche and her father, and be
side him sat John Harkless, with his
head bared. She glanced at Briscoe.
was standing on the seat in front
of her and Minnie and both were sing
ing. Meredith had climbed upon the
back seat and was nervously fumbling
at a cigarette. "Sing, Tom!" the girl
cried to him excitedly.
"I should be ashamed not to," he
answered, and dropped the cigarette
and began to sing "John Brown's
Body" with all his strength. With that
seized his band, sprang up beside
CTA Gentleman
From Indiana
Copyright, 1899, by "Doubltday 3L McCIur* Co.
Copyright, 1902, by McClur*. Thilltpj /3L Co.
*&*$<^H 'V t i'| $' t't 't M'& 'ft '1' &
t"t"l''l"it"t"t"t'"l'"l t"t't"I' t" M"t"M*l"
"No, no, no!" she exclaimed
must be kept from him somehow."
"He'll know it by tomorrow so you
better tell him this evening."
"This evening?"
"Yes you'll have a good chance."
"I will?"
"He's coming to supper with ushe
and your father, of course, and Keating
and Bence and Boswell and Smith and
Tom Martin and Lige. We're going to
have a big time, with you and Minnie
to do the honors, and we're all coming
into town afterward for the fireworks,
and I'll let him drive you in the phae
ton. You'll have plenty of chances to
talk it over with him and tell him all
about it."
Helen gave a little gasp. "Never!"
she cried. "Never!"
The buckboard stopped on the Her
ald corner, and here and along Main
street the line of vehicles which had fol
lowed it from the station took positions
to await the parade. The square was
almost a solid mass of bunting, and
the north entrance of the courthouse
had been decorated with streamers and
flags so as to make a sort of tand.
Hither the crowd was already stream
ing and hither the procession made its
way. A intervals the gun boomed
from the station, and Schofields' Henry
was winnowing the air with his bell.
Nobody had abetter time that day than
Schofields' Henry, except old Wilker
son, who was with the procession.
In advance came the boys, whooping
and somersaulting, and behind them
rode a band of mounted men, sitting
their horses like cavalrymen, led by the
sheriff and his deputy and Jim Bard
lock. Then followed the Harkless club
of Amo, led by Boswell, with the mag
nanimous Halloway himself marching
in the ranks, and at sight of this the
people shouted like madmen. But when
Helen's eye fell upon Halloway's fat,
rather unhappy face she felt a pang of
pity and unreasoning remorse, which
warned her that he who looks upon
politics when it is red must steel hia
eyes to see many a man with the heart
burn. After the men of Amo came the
Harkless club of Gainesville, Mr.
Bence in the van with the step of a
grenadier. There followed next Mr.
Ephraim Watts, bearing a light wand
in his hand and leading a detachment
of workers from the oil field in their
stained blue overalls and blouses, and
after them came Mr. Martin and Mr.
Landis at the head of an organization
recognized in the "order of procession"
printed in the Herald as "the business
men of Plattville." The band played in
such magnificent time that every high
stepping foot in all the line came down
with the same jubilant plunk and lift
ed again with a unanimity as complete
as that of the last vote the convention
had taken that day. The leaders of the
procession set a brisk pace, and who
could have set any other kind of a pace
when on parade to the strains of such
a band playing such a tune as "A New
Coon In Town" with all its might and
him, and over the swelling-chorus
full soprano rose, lifted with all theernoon?"
power in her.
The barouche rolled into the square,
and as it passed Harkless turned and
bent a sudden gaze upon the group in
the buckboard, but the western sun
was in his eyes and he only caught a
glimpse of a vague, bright shape and
a dazzle of gold, and he was borne
along and out f view down the singing
"Glory, glory, halleluiah!
Glory, glory, halleluiah!
Glory, glory, halleluiah!
As we go marching on."
The barouche stopped in front of the
courthouse, and Harkless passed up a
lane they made for him to the steps.
When he turned to them to speak, they
began to cheer again, and he had to
wait for them to quiet down.
"We can't hear him from over here,"
said Briscoe. "We're too far off. Mr.
Meredith, suppose you take the ladies
closer in I'll stay with the horses."
"He's a great man, isn't he?" Mere
dith said to Helen as he handed her
out of the buckboard. "I've been try
ing to realize that he's the same old
fellow I've been treating so familiarly
all day long."
"Yes, he is a great man," she anmittee
swered. "This is only the beginning."
"That's true," said Briscoe. "Only
wait awhile, and we'll all go on to
Washington and get a thrill down our
backs when we hear the speaker say,
'The gentleman from Indiana,' and see
John Harkless rise to speak. But hurry
along, young people."
Crossing the street, they met Miss
Tibbs. She was wiping her streaming
eyes with the back of her left hand and
still mechanically waving her hand
kerchief with her right. "Isn't it beau
tiful?" she said, not ceasing to uncon
sciously flutter the little square of cam
bric. "There was such a throng that
I grew faint and had to come away. I
don't mind your seeing me cry. Pretty
near everybody cried when he walked
up the steps and we saw that he was
John Harkless looked down upon the
attentive, earnest faces and into the
kindly eyes of the Hoosier country peo
ple, and as he spoke the thought kept
recurring to him that this was the place
he had dreaded to come back to that
these were the people he had wished to
leave, these who gave him everything
they had to give, and this made it diffi
cuit to keep-his-tones^steady and hi
throat clear. Helen stood so far from
the steps (nor could she be induced to
penetrate farther, though they would
have made way for her) that only
fragments reached her, but these she
"I have come home. Ordinarily a
man needs to fall sick by the wayside
or to be set upon by thieves in order to
realize that nine-tenths of the world is
Samaritanand the other tenth only
too busy or too ignorant to be. Down
here he realizes it with no necessity of
illness or wounds to make him know it,
and if he does get hurt you send him
to congress. There will be no other in
Washington so proud of what he stands
for as I shall be. To represent you is
to stand for fearlessness, honor, kind
ness. You have sent all of the Cross
roaders to the penitentiary, but prob
ably each of us is acquainted with
politicians who ought to be sent there.
When the term is over I shall want
to take the first train home. This
is the place for a man who likes to
live where people are kind to each
other and where they have the old
fashioned way of saying 'home other
places they don't seem to get so much
into it as we do. And to come home as
I have todayto see the home facesI
have come home."
was 5 o'clock when Harkless
climbed the stairs to the Her
ald office, and his right arm
and hand were aching and
limp. Ross Schofield was the only per
son in the editorial room, and there
was nothing in his appearance that
should have caused a man to start and
back from the doorway, but that
is what John did. "What's the matter,
Mr. Harkless?" cried Ross, hurrying
forward with a fear that the other
bad been suddenly re-seized by illness.
"What are those?" asked Harkless,
with a gesture of his hand that seemed
to include the entire room.
"Those?" repeated Ross, staring blank
"Those rosettes these streamers
that stovepipeall this blue ribbon?"
Ross turned tale. "Ribbon?" he said
inquiringly. "Ribbon?" seemed
unable to perceive the decorations re
ferred to.
"Yes," answered John. "These ro
settes on the chairs, that band, and"
"Oh!" Ross answered. "That?"
fingered the band on the stovepipe as
if he saw it for the first time. "Yes
I see."
"But what's it for?"
"Whyit'sit's likely meant fer dec
"It seems to have been here some
"It has. I reckon if most due to be
called in. It's be'n up ever sence
"Who put it up, Ross?"
We dlfl."
"What for?" pf
Ross was visibly embarrassed. "Why
ferfer the other editor."
"For Mr. Fisbee?"
"Land, no! You don't suppose we'd
go to all that work and bother to brisk
en things up for that old gentleman.
do you?
"I meant young Mr. Fisbee. He is
the other editor, isn't he?"
"Oh!" said Ross. "Young Mr. Fis
bee? Yes we put 'em up fer him.''
"You did? Did he appreciate them?"
"Well, heseemed tokind of like
"Where is he now? I came here to
find him."
"He's gone." I
"Gone? Hasn't he been here this aft-
"Yes some the time. Come in and
stayed durin' the teevy you was holdin'
and saw the extry off all right"
"When will he be back?"
"Sence it's be'n a daily he gits here
by 8 after supper, but don't stay very
late. Old Mr. Fisbee and Parker look
after whatever comes in then, unless
if something special. He'll likely be
here by half past 8 at the farthest off."
"I can't wait till then. I've been
wanting to see him every minute since
I got in, and he hasn't-been near me.
Nobody could even point him out to me.
Where has he gone? I want to see him
"Want to discharge him again?" said
a voice from the door, and, turning,
they saw that Mr. Martin stood there
observing them.
"No," said Harkless. "I want to give
him the Herald. Do you know where
he is?"
Mr. Martin stroked his beard delib
erately. "The person you speak of
hadn't ought to be very hard to find in
Carlow, andwell, maybe when found
you'll want to put a kind of a codicil
to that deed to the Herald. The com
was reckless enough to hire that
carriage of yours by the day, and Keat
ing and Warren Smith are sitting in it
up at the corner with their feet on the
cushions to show how used they are
to riding around with four white horses
every day in the week. It's waiting
till you're ready to go out to Briscoes'.
There's an hour before supper time, and
you can talk to young Fisbee all you
want. He's out there."
The first words Warren Smith spoke
had lifted the veil of young Fisbee's
duplicity had shown John with what
fine intelligence and supreme delicacy
and sympathy young Fisbee had work
ed for him, had understood him and
had made him. If the open attack on
McCune had been made and the damna
tory evidence published in Harkless'
own paper while Harkless himself was
a candidate and rival he would have
felt dishonored. The McCune papers
could have been used for Halloway's
benefit, but not for his own, and young
Fisbee had understood and had saved
him. I was a point of honor that many
would have held finical and inconsist
ent, but one that young Fisbee had
comprehended was vital to Harkless.
And this was the man he had dis
charged like a dishonest servant, the
man who had thrown what (in Carlow
eyes) was riches into his lap, the man
who had made his paper and who had
made him and saved him. Harkless
wanted to see young Fisbee as he long
ed to see only one other person in the
As the barouche drove up to thedone,
brick house he made out through the
trees a retreative flutter of skirts on
the porch, and the thought crossed his
mind that Minnie had flown indoors
to give some final directions toward the
preparation of the banquet. But when
the barouche halted at the gate he was
surprised to see her waving to him
from the steps, while Tom Meredith and
Mr. Bence and Mr. Boswell formed a
little court around her. Lige Willetts
rode up on horseback at the same mo
ment, and the judge was waiting in
front of the gate. Harkless stepped out
of the barouche and took his hand. "I
was told young Fisbee was here."
"Young Fisbee is here," said the
Mr. Fisbee came around the corner
of the house and went toward Hark
less. "Fisbee," cried the latter, "where
is your nephew?"
The old man took his hand in both
his own and looked him between the
eyes and thus stood while there was a
long pause, the others watching them.
"You must not say that I told you," he
said at last. "Go into the garden."
But when Harkless' step crunched
the garden there was no one there.
Asters were blooming in beds between
the green rosebushes, and their many
fingered hands were flung open in wide
surprise that he should expect to find
young Fisbee there. I twas just before
sunset. Birds were gossiping in the
sycamores on the bank. At the foot of
the garden, near the creek, there were
some tall hydrangea bushes, flower
laden, and beyond them one broad
ahaft of sun smote the creek bends for
a mile in that flat land and crossed the
garden like a bright, taut drawn veil.
Harkless passed the bushes and step
ped out into this gold brilliance. Then
he uttered a cry and stopped. Helen
was standing beside the hydrangeas
with both hands pressed to her face
and her eye's cast on the ground. She
had run away as far as she could run.
There were high fences extending
down to the creek on each side, and the
water was beyond. "'$-
"You!" he said. "You! You!"
She did not lift her eyes, but began
to move away from him with little
backward steps. When she reached
the bench on the bank she spoke with
a quick intake of breath and in a voice
he almost failed to hear, the merest
whisper, and her words came so slow
ly that sometimes minutes separated
them. "Can youwill you keep meon
the Herald?"
"Keep you"
came near her I don't under-
stand. I tt youyouwho are here
again?" i "2P*^*
"Have you forgiven me? You know"
nowwhy I wouldn't resign? You
forgive mythat telegram?"
"What telegram?"
"The one that came to youthi
"Your telegram
"Did you send me one?"
"Yes." "It did not come to me."
"Yesit did."
"Butwhat was it about?"
"It was signed," she said "it was.
signed" She, paused and turned hall
away, not lifting the downcast lashes.
Her hand, resting upon the back of the
bench, was shaking. She put it behind
her. Then her eyes were lifted a little,
and, though they did not meet his, he
saw them, and a glory sprang into be
ing in his heart. Her voice fell still
lower, and two heavy tears rolled down
her cheeks. "It was signed," she whis
pered, "it was signed'H. Fisbee.'
He began to tremble from head to
foot. There was a long silence. She
had turned full away from him. When
he spoke his voice was as low as hers.
and he spoke as slowly as she had.
"You meanthenthen it wasyou?"
"Yes." "You!"
"Yes." "And youyou haveyou have been
here all the time?"
"Allall except the weekyou were
The bright veil that wrapped them
was drawn away, and they stood in the
"Youl" he said. "Fo/"
quiet, gathering dusk. tried to
loosen his neckband it seemed to be
choking him. "II can'tI don't com
prehend it. I am trying to realize
what it all means."
"It means nothing," she answered.
"There was an editorial yesterday,"
he said, "an editorial that I thought
was about Rodney McCune. Did you
write it?"
"It was aboutmewasn't it?"*
"Yes." "It saidit said thatthat I had won
thethelove of every person in Car
low county."
Suddenly she found her voice. "Do
not misunderstand me," she said rapid
ly. I have done the little that I have
out of gratitude." She faced him
now, but without meeting his eyes. I
owed you more gratitude than a wom
an ever owed a man before, I think,
and I would have died to pay a part
of it."
"What gratitude did you owe me?"
"What gratitude? For what you did
for my father."
"I have never seen your father io my
"Listen. My father is a gentle old
man with white hair and kind eyes.
My name is my uncle's. and my
aunt have been good to me as a father
and mother since I was seven years
old, and they gave me their name by
law, and I lived with them. My fa
ther came to see me once a year I nev
er came to see him. always told me
everything was well with him, that his
life was happy, and I thought it was
easier for him not having me to take
care of, he has been so poor ever since
I was a child. Once he lost the little
he had left to him in the world, his
only way of making his living. had
no friends he was hungry and desper
ate, and he wandered. I was dancing
and going about wearing jewelsonly
I did not know. All the time the brave
heart wrote me happy letters. I should
have known, for there was one who
did and who saved him. When at last
I came to see my father he told mehe
had written of his idol before, but it
was not till I came that he told it all
to me. Do you know what I felt?
While his daughter was dancing co
tillons a stranger had taken his hand
andand" A sob rose in her throat
and checked her utterance for a mo
ment, but she threw up her head proud
ly. "Gratitude, Mr. Harkless!" she
cried. I am James Fisbee's daugh-
He fell back from the bench with a
sharp exclamation and stared at her
through the gray twilight. She went
on hurriedly, still not looking at him.
"I wanted to do something to show you
that I could be ashamed of my vile
neglect of himsomething to show you
his daughter could be gratefuland it
has been such dear, happy work, the
little I have done, that it seems, after
all, that I have done it for love of my-,
self. I is what I had always wanted
to doto earn a living for myself, td
live with my father. When I came'
here, my aunt and uncle were terribly
afraid I would stay with him. I was
to prevent this that they determined to
go abroad, and my father said I must
go back to them. Then you were
were hurt, and he needed me so much
he let me .stay. ?Whe youwhen
you told me"she broke off with a
Strange, fluttering, half inarticulate lit
tle laugh that was half tears and then
resumed in another tone"when you
told me you cared that nightthat
night of the stormhow could I be
sure? I had been only two days, you
see, and even if I could have been sure
of myselfwhy, I couldn't have told
you. Oh, I had so brazenly thrown my
self at your head time and again those
two days in mymy worship of your
goodness to my father and my excite
ment in recognizing in his friend the
hero of my girlhood that you had ev
ery right to think I cared but ifbut
if I badif I hadloved you with my
whole soul I could not havewhy,- no
Woman could haveI mean the sort of
girl I amcouldn't have admitted it
must have denied it. Do you think that
then I could have answered 'Yes,' even
if I had wanted toeven if I had been
sure of myself? And now" He
voice sank again to a whisper. "And
"And now?" he said tremulously. She
gave a hurried glance from right to left
and from left to right, like one in ter
ror seeking a way of escape she gath
ered her skirts in her hand as if to run
into the garden, but suddenly she turn
ed and ran to him. She threw her arms
about his neck and kissed him on the
When they heard the judge calling
from the orchard they went back
through the garden toward the house.
It was dark. The whitest asters were
but gray splotches. There was no one
in the orchard. Briscoe had gone in
"Did you know you are to drive me
into town in the phaeton for the fire
works?" she asked.
"Yes. The great Harkless has come
home." Even in the darkness he could
see the look the vision had given him
when the barouche turned into the
square. She smiled upon him and
said, "All afternoon I was wishing I
could have been your mother."
He clasped her hand more tightly.
"This wonderful world!" he cried.
"Yesterday I had a doctora doctor to
cure me of lovesickness!"
After a time they had proceeded a
little nearer the house. "We must
hurry," she said. "I am sure they have
been waiting for us." This was true
they had.
From the dining room came laughter
and hearty voices, and the windows
were bright with the light of many
lamps. By and by they stood just out
side the patch of light that fell from
one of the windows.
"Look!" said Helen. "Aren't they
good, dear people?"
"The beautiful people!" he answered.
Long Distance 'Phone 313.
Centrally located. All the comforts of home
life. Unexcelled service. Equipped with every
modern convenience for the treatment and the
cure-^f the sick and Jhe invalid. All forms.of
Electrical Treatment,'Medical BathsTtf assage.
X-ray Laboratory, Trained Nurses in attend
ance. Only non-contagious diseases admitted,
Charges reasonable.
Trained Nurses furnished for sickness
in private families.
Staff of Physicians and Surgeons,
Chief of Staff.
Office and Residence over Jack's Drug Store
TelRural. 36.
Princeton, Minn.
Office in Odd Fellows' Building.
Princeton, Minn.
Office in Carew Block,
Main Street. Princeton.
A fine line of Tobacco and Cigars.
Main Street, Princeton.
Dealer in
Lard, Poultry, Fish and Game in Season.
Telephone 51.
Princeton, Minn.
Will take fuU charge of dead bodies when
desired. Coffins and caskets of the latest styles
always in stock. Also Springfield metalics.
Dealer In Monuments of all kinds.
E A. Ross, Princeton, Minn. Telephone No. 30.
Putnam Fadeless Dyes
color silk, wool or cotton perfectly at
one boiling. Sold by C. A. Jack, at
io cents per package.
and Sale Stable.
Opposite Commercial Hotel.
A. H. STEEYES, Prop.
First Class Rigs on
hand day or night.
Drafters and drivers
always on hand.
Great Northern Railway.
Duluth 6:20 a.m.
Brook Park.. 9:15 a.m.
Mora 9:35 a.m.
Ogilvie 9:48 a.m.
Milaca 10:20 a.m.
Pease (f) 10:30 a.m.
L. Siding (f) 10:40 a m.
Brickton (f) .10:45 a.m.
Princeton....10:65 a m.
Zimmerman. ll:10a.m.
Elk River.... 11:35 a.m.
Anoka 12 00 a.m.
Minneapolis. 12:40 p.m.
Ar. St. Paul. 1:05 p.m.
St. Paul 2:35 p.m
Minneapolis. 3:05 p.m.
Anoka 3:45 p.m.
Elk River.... 4:07 p.m.
Zimmerman. 4:25 p.m.
Princeton 4:42 p.m.
Brickton (f). 4:47 p.m.
L. Siding f) 4:51p.m.
Pease (f).... 5:01 p.m
Milaca 5:20 p.m
Ogilvie 5:45 p.m
Mora 6:02 p.m
Brook Park. 6:25 p.m
Ar. Duluth 9:25 p.m.
(f) Stop on signal.
Le. Milaca
Ar. St. Cloud
Le. St. I
Ar, Milaca.
Utiis. ver I o-4
10:18 a.m.
10:23 a. m.
11:15 a. m.
'-"a''T'h I lilloJ-' SL
I i:oop:E:mnK
GOING WESTMonday, Wednesday and Friday.
PI*,. 11000a.m.
Ar-Milaca a-wn^^i,!**!?
ees Elk liver go
No east at a. m.
^ff i
Greenbush-R. A. Ross.... *'.'.'.'.'.'.'.Vprin'ceton
Hayland-Alfred F. Johnson.. MUaSS
tele Harbor-Otto A. Haggberg... ral
Milaca-Ole E. Larson.. f...WW" MU^
Milo-R. N.Atkinson ForestaS
Princeton-Otto Henschel. Wp^SSS
Kobbins-c. N. Archer eland
South Harbor-Chas. Freer... cSve
East Side-Geo. W. Freer Op'stead
Onamia-G. H.Carr CtoamlS
Page-August Anderson ^j!
Geo. E. Mcciurev::::.:
ftBasffsaat?^ inS3
Daibo-Andrew Peterson.
Wheat, No. 1 Northern.
Wheat, No. 2 Northern
Oats Rye Barley.
Grain and Produce Market.
Beans, hand picked.".'.' A
Hay (baled)
87 45
12 [email protected]
Princeton Boiler nils ail Eleyator.
Wheat, No. 1 Northern 1
Wheat, No. 2 Northern S?
Corn oats.:.::..::
H. BBTAir..
Vestal, fcer sack &
Flour, (100 per cent)per sack.". 2RK
Banner, per sack
Rye flour. i\
Whole wheat (10 lb. sack)'..."'
Ground feed, per cwt...... Si
Coarse meal, per cwt ij
Middlings, per cwt i"Vx
Shorts, per cwt ix
Bran. Der cwt jcr
All goods delivered free anywhere inPrinceton!
NO.e^A^. &A\M:
W. E. J. GBATZ, Sec'y.
NO. 93, of
Regular meetings every Tuesday eve
ning at 8 o'clock.
O M.
Tnt N o. 17.
Regula meetings every Thurs
day evening at 8 o'clock, In the
Hebron Encampment.
Meetings, 2nd and 4th Monday*
at 8 o'clock p. JI. u.j
Jos. CRAIG. Scribe.
NO. 208,1.0.0.
No. 4032/
Regular meetings 1st and 3rd Saturdays of
each month, at 8:00 p. M., in the hall at Brick
yards. Visiting members cordially invited.'
F. F. REEH, C.
CHAS. A. OAKES, Clerk.
Princeton, Minn.
Single and Double Rigs
a [foments' Notice.
Commercial Travelers' Trade a Specialty
Licensed Mid-wife. J.
Twenty-five years practice. Call or
Zimmerman, Sherburne County, Minor
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