The Abilene reflector. [volume], May 22, 1884, Image 2

About The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888

Image provided by: Kansas State Historical Society; Topeka, KS

                
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E2T"Any person who takes the paper regu
ilarly from tho post-office, whether directed to
this name or whether he U a subscriber or not
As responsible for tho PfT. ......
The courts bavo decided that refusing tt
take newspapers from the post-office, or re
moving and leaving thom uncalled for, II
u-bxa facie evidence of iktHtiohai, traub.
THE QUAKER BLACKSMITH.
a much-bonored Quakcriji broad-ehoulderod
smithy,
Tro watched, many years, from my windows
and yard;
And beard his blows ringing to words quaint
and pithy.
But never a grumble, though times might
. .. bo hard. -
TThilo others are sleeping, his forge-6parka
aro tiylfii.
".He talks to himself while his iron prows red,
- -And wonders that some folks are all tho time
sighing
jD'er.doIorous times and tho high price of
bread.
Ko horse is so vicious but bo can subduo hint.
His magnetic touches few boasts oan resist;
"With "Whoa, my good pony 1" he'll fearlessly
shoe him.
"With nerer a blow from a cudgel or flst
. A faithful assistant through twenty long
winters
Has kept at his post till the nine o'clock bell ;
His dingy old shop, with its sides all in splin
ters. Has long been bis mint though a tumblc
dowu shell.
.His wife, yoars ago, did the neighborhood
fowing.
Made dresses, trimmod bonnots and caught
-the stray dimes;
t -Content if tho pile in her cash-box was grow-
-ingr
For tbriftlessness stands, by her creed.
G
among crimes.
Two sons and a daughter, John, James and
Sophia,
Five years, more or less, baro been women
and men;
"You'd take cither son for a prloet or a friar.
Or book-worm, j uat out from his attio or den.
The books they have read, with the contents
well treasured.
The poems they've made nnd tho ballads
they've 6iing.
If piled up together, could scarcely be meas
ured, Or titles be told by a street-vender's tongue.
Gf London nnd Paris and other grand cIMc,
They've seen all the wonders und know
them by heart,
And brought home their hisfries and legends
anl ditties.
As well as improvement in manners and art.
But how will our Quaker dispose of theso
scholars,
Just home from Japan and tho land of the
Nile,
To get a return for the thousands of dollars
lie's paid for diplomas, art-culture nnd
style?
Of preachers and doctors he finds wo'vo a
plenty,
Professors have long been a drug in the
mart;
Of lawyers and writers Ihero's soarco ono in
twenty
"Who owns a enug cottage, entire or in part.
ilcchanics need vigor and well-hardened
muscle:
And farming would starve 6uch effeminate
things;
Tn business they'd fall in the turmoil and
bustle.
Poor pigmies, the victims of shnrpers and
rings.
-And yet they must eat, and, while father has
money.
They'll sit at his table, as worthless as dudes.
.And live, like all drones, on the working beo's
honey.
Unmindful of all the world's sorrows and
lends.
But little Sophia, as trim as a daisy.
With fair education and good Quaker sense.
O'er Primrose" novels has n over gone crazy.
Or uttered one sentence of sham or pretense.
At
home in the
sick
room, tho parlor or
kitchen.
The mother's best
work:
helper in all kinds of
Can bric-a-brac fashion of mosses and lichen.
Or revel in rugs like the most skilful Turk.
AThilemanyn maidon is sleeping, or dreaming
Of ncoros or young hearts she a intending to
break,
"Our maiden is busy in mixing and steaming.
Or baking nice biscuit and broiling tho steak.
J. know a young farmer who d6os day-time
r woolnsr,
"Who hitches bis team to tho old Quaker's
i JUost,
rrotendlng that one of his horses needs shoo
ing. Dut flits in nnd out of the houso like a ghost.
His time is too
' courting.
precious to spend much in
Be owes on rjls
farm half a thousand or
- - - more;
"."With little for pleasure, and nothing for sport-
'- ing.
-.Jle'Hsoonl'ft the mortgage and paycr'ry
6Core.
K. ir. LocJtc, in Youth's Companion.
ONLY A MAID-OF-ALL-WORK.
"Even the clock seems to tick faster,
sk if hurdling to rofikoupor lost time,"
ahe-eaidflo herself as she refolded the
telegram announcing her brother's ar
rival in New York. The tickingscemed
louder, clearer, than it ever sounded
before, she thought, as her eye? rested
on the clock, and noted the" apparent
xapiditv with which tho minutes sepa
Tating ner from her brother were mcas
xired off. The house seemed so silent,
too; or was the stillness broken at in
tervals by thcclang of the mills mere
fancy ?
Tho summer air blew in through tho
-open door, tossed half a dozen withered
leaves from the vino through tho wm
low, then lifted, a paper lying on the
'table near her. She grasped it quickly,
.sighed,' and said:
"Thanks be to God, he's well over,
anyhow. He sailed on the eighth and
lerc t iV's only tho eighteenth, and mo
allowing twelve days at the lowest !
Sure they couldn't do much better than
that -if they built a bridge over the
ocean. Ho'Il be here before I have
jverythBg ready-Jorhim."
She looked at tho" clock again in an
absent -niiadcd way. It was plain her
-mind' was not upon her work. For that
-matter the bulk of her day's' work was
.done. Tho room was clean; everything
was in its place. The tnaid-of-all-work
-was enjoying & "breathing spell."
"When tie'. aaeasewjorboy .came with
lhe telegram she was making curious
marks on a niece of DaDer. the rianer
:she now held in her hand as Bhe lookod
iit the clock, -as though noting the flight
of the hours that divided her from her
Jbrother.
"I wonder what ho is like now ?" she
asked herself. Like people who scru
tinized an unexpected letter, examining
the post-mark, date of reception, and
-chirography speculating upon the
-writer, she indulged tho pleasures of
anticipation. "It was on a dav muoh
like this I left Bainbridge. The 'grass
-was green far greener than it is here
anyway, there's no such dirt as we have
liere. Will I ever see such a sky again?
-Jamie was & bit of a gossoon that cared
jj.o more for the next dav than tho wind
that tossed his curly hafr. He was the
worst and the brightest lad in school.
He scarcely sat still long enough to find
.the place in his book, the master told
-me, and he stood at the head of his
class. No thanks and no credit to him,
as J)r.JKYfesauU'ore-thaB oscepfeirit
cost him ntr trouble" aT all. HeTTbo a
.Lead taller than me at least, if he takes
after the Sloan's side of the house.
.He'll be sir feet, maybe."
.. 'She marked a spot on the side of the
Ioor, 6miling curiously, walked back,
and looked at it "That's about the
JLeightX'mtolookuptoall my life, I
uppose. John reaches there, and if
'my brother is -vs tall but what odds
Whether he is short or tall. It's all one
-only he might have told me. It's a
grand secret he has made of it cvory
rway. And he'll be here to-morrow V
She looked across the river at the
Jfcilltops, where qniel stretches of farin-
...J&nd lay in the broad, warm sunlight;
as the columns of smoke vomited from
tho great chimneys near, and which
Bometimes shut out the beautiful land
scape, darkening the sky. Then again
she was recalled to herself by the
silence of the house. Where were the
children? She looked out of the
window. At a considerable distance
from the house, something that might
be a child's head or a dog was moving
back of a log. Then another object ap
peared and disappeared, bat the instant
of time sufficed to satisfy the maid-of-all-work.
The children were playing
in the open field near the house. But
where was the nurse? Strollinir a long
-distapce from the little heads that were
bobbing up and down between tho logs
that were scattered over the open field,
Nelly Moore observed a familiar figure;
beside her, moving an arm as though
he were switching the air with a cane,
was another form almost as familiar.
The nurse evidently was proud of her
conquest. It was not every girl in her
sphere who could boast a lover who
carried a cane.
The maid-o'-all-work turned back
from the window, renewed the fire in
the range, and sat down at the table
with the paper she still held in her
hand. Producing a'piece of lead pencil
as long as one s linger, sho bent over
the paper.
As she drew curious lines upon the
paper, her thoughts ran this wise:
The new suit, the cravat, gloves,
hat and boots must wait Jamie's com
ing. So long as the main thing the
money is provided, I'm novvavs un
easy. There's enough and to spare
it'll be my lookout to set him oft" so that
no one will call him a 'Faddy,' al
though there's no disgrace in it only
when one comes among strangers
there's nothing lo3t by putting tho best
foot foremost. Man' a pain and ache
would have been saved these seven
years past if somebody had thought for
and proi'ided for mo beforehand. I
hope Jamie will never experience what
I've endured, and nobouy any the
wiser. Ihcre! looking sideways at the
paper covered with curious mark and
lines crossing each other. "That'll be
Mower's mills up there by the dam. I
think I've not rot it too near Drexel's
Lmills. He'll never lose himself once he
tis in stent of either. That's the short
side of the city. too. If he'll get Penu
Avenue set fairly in his mind, the lonjr
side will bo a3 ca to learn. But I
must make the near cut plain tlie near
cut across to the South Side. And the
bridges that'll be all that's needed.
There's not a mill left out."
"Ncllv!" a voice cried at that mo
ment. It was Mrs. Britt, who stood on
the landing.
"Yes, ma'ni."
"Where are Mary and the children?"
"In the open lot."
"Is Mary with them? the fence is
down now, and they must not be allow
ed to go near tho railroad. Tell her to
be very careful. I am going to my
room and must not be disturbed."
Mrs. Britt spoke like a woman ac
customed to implicit obedience. Mrs.
Britt, a well-meaning woman who had
never experienced hardship nor misfor
tune one of those people who are born
to ease and plenty, and accept them as
a matter of course rather than as bless
ingssat down before her escritoire,
waiting for the inspiration which expe
rience justified her in assuming nine
times out of ten was belated ere it
reached her pen. The best incidents,
the extraordinary coincidences and
dramatic situations were always worked
out by other people. In her leisure sho
had written many verses perform
ances that occupied her time, were ad
mired by her friends and dreaded by
the editors of the daily papers of Grits
burg more than a competitor's proposi
tion to compare circulation. Unfortu
nately for Mrs. Britt ami the editors, two
or three of these performances got into
print, and ever after they were com
pelled to do penance. Mrs. Britt's life
was as placid as a pool of water in a
prairie, but like many whose lives are
barren of incident, she was forever in
quest of the intense; her disrelish of the
common-place was so great that she
was in the habit of declaring "it posi
tively amounted to disgust" Time
and again she began intensely thrilling
poems" and stories, but she never got
farther than five or six verses or as far
as the middle of the first chapter.
Fragments of these performances lit
tered, her escritoire and amused her hus
hand. "Of the tragedies enacted even
'day about her, she had no conception.
bhe sought incidents in the new West,
in liood and battlefield and in the wake
of lost steamers. Tho drudgery of
ejrery day life could not supply her with
heroism.
Mrs. Britt had at last found a thrill
ing situation. All it required was
good management. There was the
great steamer with its machinery dis
abled, the signal guns firing, a tremen
dous cliff within biscuit-throw of the
steamer, the steamer pounding on the
rocks, and breakers foaming all around
the hapless passengers. It required
some dexterity to reach this point and
extricate tho half-dozen passengers es
sential to Mrs. Britt's storv after com
mitting tho remainder to the waves.
Down stairs Nelly Moore was making
strange lines and marks on the paper
that occupied her attention.
Mr. Britt, who was employed in a
largo factory near at hand, "run in a
moment to see how they were doing,"
and to satisfy the inner man with apiece
of pie and a glass of milk. He was in
the habit of popping in and out unan
nounced. As he returned to the factory
a vision of a curly head, laughing, mis
chievous eyes, and blue stockings
stockings that seemed to twinkle, in the
Sunlight, ' as' his ' yotmgCit, Benny,
scampered from log to log, "scrambling
up and down with his brother Oscar
and his sister Grace in his wake rose
before him.
TIkj first chapter of Mrs. Britt's new
Btory was half-completed when the loud,
shrill and unusually prolonged whistle
of a locomotive attracted her attention
She glanced carelessly, aimlessly out of
her window. The Noon Express "was
thundering around a curve near the open
lot where tho children wore atplay half
an hour ago. Here and there a head
was thrust out of a car window. A cry
of warning, a piercing cry, followed by
others as shrill and sharp caused Mrs.
Britt to rise and advance to the window.
Then suddenly Mrs. Britt's pulses
seemed to stop, her heart swelled as if
it would burst. She strove to cry out,
but Tier tongue clove to tho roof of her
mouth.
There, fair in the path of the rushing
locomotive standing motionless as
though paralyzed with fright, stood her
baby boy, Benny.
Sky and earth were blurred together,
as Mrs. Britt fainted dead away.
The open lot was not large enough,
for Benny. His venturesome little legs
had marked out new territory beyond
the fenco line; beyond tho railway, up
nearer the hillside. While the nurse
was listening to the soft nonsense which
flowed from a loiterer's tongue Oscar
and Grace heedlesslypursuea Benny on
the new ground. When" the train swept
round the curve the nurse was nowhere
to be seen. The eldest children were
on one side of the track, Benny on the
other. Benny started to meet
his brother and sister; Grace
wa3 endeavoring to meet him when
Oscar held her firmly, shouting to
Benny to run back. So Beanr stood
dazed in tho middle of the track while
the locomotive swooped down -upon
him.
Nelly Moore was smiling in a self
satisfied way over the bit of paper with
tho curious marks and curves on it,
when the prolonged whistle of the loco
motive attracted her attention likewise.
She looked quickly across the vacant
lot It was deserted. Then she de
scried the children on the hi Iside.
"I'll savo the child if 1 die for it!"
she exclaimed between her set teeth as
she sped across the open lot.
Those who witnessed her subsequent
actions from a distance averred they
never beheld mortal lessen distance as
rapidly as Nelly Moore in that mad
race for a human life. Men at a dis
tance shouted warningly. Passengers
on the train seeing people on the streets
making motions, craned their necks out
of car windows.
The supreme moment in the life of
Nellie Moore presented itself then and
there. She realized that the chances
were against her; that in all probabili
ty one, perhaps both, would be killed.
If she had time to grasp and throw lit
tle Bennie from the path of the locomo
tive, its cruel wheels would grind her
romorseloasly. How often had she
shuddered at spectacles presented near
that spot? The laws of a great State,
powerful and far-reaching though they
were, were not as powerful as the rail
way lobby that exempted the great cor
poration from the outly necessary to
tho erection and maintenance of that
simplest form of preventive an in
closure. The corporation plowed its
way through flesh and blood as if they
were things of less moment than the
machinery that mangled human forms
bejond recognition.
lhe passengers looking out, and the
witnesses on the street turned shudder
ingly away as Nelly Moore sprang upon
the railway and tossed the child far
from it. The many wheels revolving
stopped with a grating sound, and a
score of men rushed to the spot whero
the maid-of-all-work la writhing and
gasping in a heap.
"I'm next death's door take me
home," she gasped, when they lifted
her tenderly.
"I would never have belaved that,
sur, if I had not seen it with my own
eyes," said a fine-lookiug, straight
limbed young fellow, whose dress and
accent indicated the new-come Irish
man. He was visibly aiFected. His
voice trembled. He did not attempt to
restrain his tears as he looked after the
group bearing Nelly to her mistress'
residence.
"What did jou say her name is?" to
a lad standing near, who was talking
with the volubility of youth to those
around him.
"All aboard!" the conductor shouted,
as he walked leisurely toward a plat
form. The young Irishman looked at
the motionless train, turned again to
the group of horror-stricken people
near, and again asked:
"What name did you say. mv lad?"
"Nelly Moore. She lives with Britts
over there, and "
The man's strong hand grasped the
boy's arm with a vise-like grip as he
bent over him. His lips were drawn,
his face ashy pale, his eyes staring
wildlj', as he exclaimed:
"It can never be it is not possible
there's some awful mistake my lad
I "
His features worked convulsively, his
grasp relaxed as he staggered back,
and James Moore, who had never
known either sickness or fear, swooned
and would have fallen had not a friend
ly hand caught him in time. When he
regained consciousness he said:
"Take me to her. If there's life in
her, she will remember her brother
her only brother, Jamie. The merciful
God will not let her die without seeing
without speaking to me."
But Nelly Moore to all all appearance
had looked her last on things earthly.
She was groping feebly, very feebly in
the night which precedes death. Per
haps the morning would never dawn
again for her.
When James Moore sat down beside
her he lifted her unmaimed hand to his
lips, kissed it through blinding tears,
stroked it gently and with streaming
eyes said: "Aye, this is the hand that
worked and slaved to pay for my
schooling; that gave me all I ever had;
that paid my way over. When I was
running over the meadows, and dab
bling in the burn (brook), this hand
wrought hard, bearing 1113 burden,
sparing me all the sharp corners. She
might have saved her earnings put
them in bank she might have done
like thousands beforeher married and
made a home for herself, and no one
would have said she did not do her
duty. But she never thought of her
self. She was not content until I was
schooled made lit for the new country.
When you come, Jamie,' she wrote me,
I want you to surprise the Americans
extractin' the cube root you talk about.
Don't come,' she wrote, "'till I send for
you. I'll be suro to send In good time.'
She wrote me the names of the coin
and the curious words a poor stranger
like me.would never make out at all.
There was nothing she did not think of;
no task too heavy for her. And I was
to repay her fonr-fold some day. That
was her wav of putting it She would
have a double pleasure, the pleasure of
helping me, and of getting her own
back with interest when I was sure of
my footing."
He stroked the cold, nerveless hand
that lav limp in his own; softly, now,
with dry eyes, kissed it again and
again, and, kneeling down beside her,
bowed his head in prayer.
Throup-h the lo.ier ni?ht he knp.1t
ItAuti'n nor Wlirtn ffio o tf nml anc !
looked in upon this picture the brother
kneeling beside the sister he had
traveled thousands of miles joyously to
meet when they saw his haggard face
and burning eyes, they stole softly out
again.
Mrs. Britt, who was prostrated
throughout the night was up
betimes
in the mormn-r.
As she Huns: open her '
window shutters and looked out on the
reddening sky, the sound of a voice
beneath her arrested her attention. It !
was the brother s voice praying; for his
only sister. Mrs. Britt stole softly to
the side of the crib where Benny and
Oscar lay with arms interlaced, and
bending over, kissed first one, then the
other. Then she descended to the living
room. The disorder noticeable every
where reminded her of the dying serv
ant Nelly's dress the dress the sur
geons removed with a single movement
of the scissors, was lying over a chair.
Mrs. Britt lifted it mechanically and
removed the articles from the pocket.
Among other articles was a piece of
yellowish, tough paper. A crumpled,
yellow envelope attracted her. A foot
step approached at that moment, and
fierJiusband looked over her shoulder.
"Why, she must have known he was
coming, Oscar. This is tho saddest of
all."
Mr. Britt read the telegram slowly.
"Poor Nelly that Bhould have been
given to her the evening before.
And sho got it at noon yester
day. Don't von see the date
here?" His finger pointed to the
hour the message was received. "No
matter. It is not worth making a fuss
over now," he added, sadly, for he "ap
preciated the excellent qualities of tho
dying maid-of-all-work.
"I will never neverforgive myself,"
said Mrs. Britt sobbing. "If 1 had
even taken thetro ijle to talk to Nellv
of her brother mo-c -if I had looked at
this dispatch ye.terday who knows?
Her life might" have been saved."
"What is this?" Mr. Britt smoothed
out thecrumpled paper covered with
eccentric lines and curious marks. "11
is a rough map of the city. Here are
the rivers the point Court House
and what are these? This is really
wonderful."
Mr. Britt looked at his wife wonder
ingly, who in her turn now examined
the paper. "Why what made the poor
girl wasto all that time when she could
have bought a good map of the city for
half a dollar."
"You do not understand it,'1 said Mr.
Britt "Every mill in the city i3 down,
every large manufacturing establish
ment all the principal points of inter
est. Plainly this was made for her
brother a guide for him. With this
in his pocket he could never go astray.
He would leant the city thoroughly in
a week's time, or less. The thought
fulness that girl displayed surpasses
everything." He folded the paper al
most reverently, and carefully placed
it in his pocket "I will give this to
her brother whon she is dead."
The sun was gilding the eastern
horizon with its wealth of summer
beauties, when the watcher fancied he
saw the dying girl's eye-lids move. He
bent closer, grasping the hand he had
held the livelong night.
"bpeak to me, JNelly. Upen your
.eyes that I may sec their light before
you pass into glory."
Instead of opening her eyc3, Nelly
startled him by saying very quietly:
"Hands off now. Give one a chance.
There's never one of you can beat me
across the burn, an' give me fair play.
But no holding back now. There! 1
won't run at all. Listen Hush!
Hould ver claverin'. Listen to the
lark. Be quiet, Jamie. See! That's
the sweetest bird ever sung the bird of
birds. See! You an' I'll never be as
high as thai, Jamie, till we are in the
arms o' the angels."
"You are all gay an' mcrrv this morn,
as if 3e hadn't ahard day's work be
fore you. Well, it's work ye'll have
without let or stop till 'e go to
America, where they've nothing to do
at all, they say, but eat and drink, and
wonder what new dish they'll have foi
supper. If I'd a few more years over
me, I'd o there myself, and take you
along, Jamie."
"Whist! There's the lame Maguire.
Sorra one of him will ever pit a sound
fut on the ground again, I'm afeerd.
Patience! Look at the sack on his back.
Come now who'll be first to give him
a lift? Sure there's as much fun in it
as paddlin' over the burn. Do a good
turn when you can it costs nothing."
"Now, Jamie hoot! ain't ye ashamed
to let your sister beat ye runnin':
Now then. Hold! That's no fair.
Jamie. Come back come back, an'
take a fair start. I'll give ye as far as
from here to the road an' beat ve
across the meadow. Come away now
away, Jamie, an' no trippin'."
And'so the spirit of the maid-of-all-work
sped heavenward. David Lowry,
in the Current.
Faith in Popular Gullibility.
Faith in the oxhaustible credulity o".
the masses has been the foundation o!
man a charlatan's fortune. At tht
time of the South Sea Bubble, whet
1 new projects of the most wild and pre
posterous character found promoter
with ease, an astute and audacious ad
venturer advertised for subscriptions tc
an enterprise the nature of which was
to be concealed for a certain time, anc
he actually made several thousands ol
pounds out of it, the people paying foi
shares with blind eagerness. With this
adventurer deserves to be" ranked the
ingenious but unprincipled American
citizen who has just been arrested foi
doing an extensive business in adver
tising all -manner of enticing things tc
be sent on the receipt of postage stamps.
Cases of this kind have occurred before,
but then the impostors usually sent
something, however fraudulent in re
turn for trie stamps. This genius, how
ever, had made no provision whatever
in that way. He sirapty appropriated
the stamps, ana ret rained, from answer
ing the letters; and though so reckless
a swindle would seem certain to come
to jrrief in a short time, he appears to
have kept it up and made considerable
profits by it for several months. He also
advertised largely through the newspa
pers, never paying them, but giving
them references to aliases of his own,
and himself auswering all letters in
quiring about bis character. The defect
in his plan was that it was certain
sooner or later to become the subject of
investigation, and the moment it was
inquired into the truth came out
The number of swindlers who havo
waxed fat on similar but more care
fully devised schemes is no doubt very
considerable. The rogues who engi
neer them rely upon the desire of most
people to get much lor little. They
know that the greed of gain often ob
scures the judgment ana that though
all cool-headed business men suspect
offers of the kind, remembering the
Duke of Wellington's maxim that
"good interest means bad security", "
yet there are aiwavs plenty ready to
spring at any bait if it is only gaudy I
and glittering enough, lhe so-called
"sawdust" sharpers who pretend to
sell counterfeit money, and send the
victim a box of sawdust act upon a
shrewd knowledge of the baser ele
ments in human nature. They select
for their dupes persons who are willing
to be knaves themselves, and whose
own knavery shuts their mouths when
they find out the swindle. Probably no
professional sharpers would enter upon
so very bold a game as the young man
of the postage stamps played, for as
they mean to make their living by their
wits thev dare not thus openly adver
tise their dishonesty. Bntthe fact that
suuu a inuK suouiu unvc ueeu su suc
cessful, and that it should have been
carried on for so long a time without
detection shows that the crop of gulls
continues to be as large as ever, and
that whatever else fails there is no
prospect of "shortage" in that line of
production. N. Y. Tribune.
The practice of mulching yo
trees after they are set out seems to
be
growinr; in favor. It keeps the soil
cool and damp during the summer and
prevents plants from drawing from the
soil. The mulch should extend -well
out from thtf base of the tree. Cl&ut
land Leader.
Eor Young Headers.
THE DAISIES,
Daisies!
Low In the grass and high in the clover.
Starring the green earth over and over.
Sow into white waves tossing and breaking.
Like a foaming sea when the wind is waking.
Now standing upright, tall and alcnder.
Showing their deep hearts' golden splendor:
Daintily bending.
Airily lending
3 art an da ot llowers for earth's adorning.
Fresh with the dew of a summer morning:
High on the slope, low in tho hollow.
SVhere eye can reach or foot can follow.
Shining with innocent, fearless faces
Dut of the depths of lonely places.
Till the glad heart sings their praises
Here are the daisies!
The daisjes!
Dalbies!
See them ebbing and flowing.
Like tides with the full moon going;
Spreading their generous largess free
For hand to touch and for oye to sec,"
In dust of the wayside growing.
On rock-ribbed upland blowing.
By meadow brooklets glancing,
On barren fields a-dancing.
Till the world forgets to burrow and grope,
And rises aloft on the wings of hope;
Oh! of all posies.
Lilies or roses.
Sweetest or fairest,
Richest or rarest,
"Chat earth in its joy to heaven upraises,
Give me tho daisies!
Why?
For they clow with tho spirit of youth.
Thoir beautlfu
il eyes have the glory of truth:
Down before all their rich bounty they fling
t ree 10 tue oeggar ana iree to tne King
Loving they stoop to the lowliest ways.
Joyous they brighten the dreariest days.
Under tho fringe of their raiment they hldo
Scars tho gray winter hath opened so wide:
iroely anu bngntly
Who can count lightly
Gifts with such generous ardor-proffered.
Tokens of love lrom such full hearts offered,
Or look without glances of joy and delight
At pastures star-covered from morning till
night.
When tho sunshiny Held ablaze is
With daisies!
Daisies,
Tour praise is
That you aro like maidens, as maidens should
be: "
Winsome with freshness, and wholesome to
see:
Gifted with bcaitv, and joy to tbn eye.
Head lifted daintily yet not too high;
Sweet with humility, radiant with love,
Generous, too, as the sunshine above:
Swaying with sympathy, tenderly bent
On hiding the scar nnd on healing the rent;
Innocent looking the world in tho face.
Yet fearless with nature's own innocont
grace:
Full of sweet goodness, yet simple in art.
White in the soul und puro gold in the heart
Ah. like unto you should all malndenhood be.
Gladsome to know, and most gracious to see;
Like you, my daisies!
iVidc Awake.
a
DISCONTENTED.
Joe Thomas lived on a farm in the
country, and, although many boys
avouUI have thought themselves fortu
nate in having sucli a home, he was
about as discontented a fellow as could
be found.
Some of the city boys, who had visited
him during the summer vacation, told
him that he was "gren," that he
would be very foolish to remain on a
farm all his life, and that if he had aay
spirit about him he would go to the
city, where he would have an opportu
nity of seeing life as it should be seen.
Joe's father wanted him to remain at
home, learn to be a farmer, and settle
down on the homestead as he himself
had done. But Joe would not heed the
advice. He was thoroughly discon
tented, as many another country boy
has been, and his ono purpose in life
was to get into some city where he
could wipe out the stain of "greenness,"
which he fancied every one could see.
He finally succeeded in doing as he
wanted to; a friend of his father's pro
cured for him a situation in a store
where he could earn a trille more than
sufficient to pay for his board, and he
left the broad acres, whereon he had
toiled with a heavy heart because of his
longing to get to the city, without a
single regret at parting from the dear
ones at home. The farm-house, nest
ling amons: the trees at the foot of the
hill, looked dingy and shabby as he
drove away from it to "aee life as it
should be seen," and in the ripening
grain and fruit he saw nothing- but re
r.. . .. .. .0..
minders 01 ignoble toil. According to
Joe's belief, life in the country was
hardly less than a form of slavery, while
it was only in the city that happiness
could be found.
Now, boys, and more especially you
country boys, who are beginning" to
think just as Joe Thomas thought, 1
want to tell you how he was disappoint
ed in his bright dreams, and if you are
wise you will profit by his experience.
He found a boarding place, where
the small, stuffy room, which was quite
as good as any his fellow clerks had,
offered a poor contrast to his cozy little
chamber at home, fragrant with
lavender scented linen, and as tidy as
the apartment in the city was disor
derly. Instead of looking out over fields of
waving grain, tasselled corn or nodding
buckwheat to the lofty hills beyond,
when he was in his room he could see
only a brick wall hardly fifty feet away.
Instead of the frajrrance of tho flowers
he had the odor of garbage from the
unswept streets, and instead of being
lulled to sleep by the chirping of the
crickets and the plaintive cries of the
katydids, he was kept awake by the
rattling of carts and. rumble of the
street-cars. At the table, the difference
between the food prepared by the serv
ants in the boarding-house and that
cooked by his mother was so disap
pointing that it seemed to him he could
never enjoy a meal again until he couM
get one at home.
But all this was necessary training:
he would rid himself of what the boys
called "greenness."
Joe had been told that a boy on a
farm is obliged to work harder than
one in a store in the cit. He could see
little or no difference, save that in the
former case he labored in the open air,
where every thing was bright and health
ful around.'while in the city bo was
shut out from the sunlight, and de-
irived of the health-givmg -breezes,
aden with the perfume of fruits and
flowers. At night instead of joining
with the boys from the neighboring
farms in husking or paring bees, candy
pulls, coasting or skating he was
forced to remain in his cheerless room,
or walk about the streets, where the
bustling crowds, intent only on business
or their own pleasure, caused him to
feel even more lonely than when he was
entirely alone.
He was not many days in learning
that he had been "jrreen" only from
the city boys' stand-po'nt, and that, so
far as country life was concerned, they
were the ones who were green.
After he had "seen life," according
to the ideas of his city friends, he wrote
to his father, and the following is an ex
tract from his letter: "I am coming
home to work on the farm. 1 did think
that such iabor wa? almost degrading;
but I find that it is quite as honorable,
and certainly more manly, than doing a
woman's work behind a counter. You
need never fear that I shall ever again
want tb exchange the independent farm
life for that of the city, and I am sure
that to be called green will trouble me J
no more, it is better, 1 think, to be ot
those rho produce something in this
world than of those who depend upon
the productions of others, and I now
think that there can be no more manly
calling than that of a farmer."
Joe went home, and he was wise in
so doing, as wise us yoc will be, boys,
if you remain on the farm, where you
have the proud consciousness that you
are doing far more good in the world
than if ou were "seeing life" in the
city. What would become of the peo
pie in th world if all the farmers
should suddenly conclude that tilling
the ground was not a sufficiently noble
calling?
When you are discontented with your
lot, boys, remember that it is the farm
er upon whom all the people in the
world depend on the actual necessaries
of life; then you will understand that
no calling can be more honorable than
that which is actually and in fact the
mainspring of the whole. Congreqa-iionalusl.
Btrtie's Bad Habit.
"Bertie! B-e-r-t-i-e! Get
away! Are you awake?"
up
right
That is what Bertie Martin heard his
mother calling to him from the foot of
the stairs one cold morning lately, and
he answered as he cuddled down still
further into the warm bed:
"Yes'm, in a minute."
And that was what Bertie always
said, no matter what you asked him
"In a minute."
So this morning when breakfast was
ready there was, as usual, no Bertie,
and as he did not come one of his sis
ters was sent to call him again. And
when his mother was ready to clear the
table she must wait till the lazy boy had
eaten his breakfast
"Bertie," said the dear old grandma,
"please run up to my room and fetch
me the bail of red yarn that is on the
table."
"In a minute," answered Bertie.
But his minute was so long that
grandma, who was waiting for tho
yarn, had to toil up the stairs herself
and get it.
"Come, Bertie!" called Jennie, who
was tying on her hood, "it's nearly
school time."
"I'll be ready in a minute." And
Bertie commenced to fly around for
books and cap.
"I'm not going to wait for any of
your old minutes," replied Jennie,
marching off to school, but Bertie
nearly ran his legs off to reach the
door in time.
"Bertie." said his father, "I want
you to mail this letter for me immedi
ately." "In a minute," papa," said Bertie,
but his father saw to it that he started
right off. But before he reached the
post-office he stopped at Willie Deane's
house to invite him to spend the next
afternoon with him, and by the time he
had looked at Willie's rabbits and
climbed up to the pigeon loft it was
four o'clock and too late for tho impor
tant letter to go that afternoon.
That was the way all Bertie's days
were spent in putting each thing off till
tho wrons" time, to the trouble and
annoyance of everv one
around him.
were turned
," called his
But one
things
round.
"Bertie! Bertie! r-et up,
mother that morning.
"Yes'm, in a minute."
But in exactly a minute his
bir
brother Tom came into the room.
"What! not up? you're not keeping
your word to mamma!" And Pom
tugged at the bed-clothes.
"Uh! Ow! let me a-1-o-n-e! oh, I say,
it's cold!" and Bertie clung with all his
might to the covers.
"O-o-o-w!" he squealed, as Tom,
with a jerk, landed him, covers and all,
in the middle of the floor.
"Now," said Tom, "if you don't get
UlbJOUU IV Mill Vr UJ UUI1JI1 iUl T VIU
And Bertie was too wretched and
surprised at such treatment to say: "In
a minute." He only shivered.
"Bertie, come to breakfast" called
Sue, presently.
"In a minute," answered Bertie, who
was in bed again by this time. When
he came loitering; down after breakfast
was over, what was his surprise to find
everything cleared away and Sue wash
ing the dishes.
"I want my breakfast," he said.
"Then you must come in time for it,"
replied his mother. "Boys who never
do anything at the right time may ex
pect people to grow tired-of their ways,
and to-day 1 am going to let you see
for yourself just how this bad habit of
yours seems to others."'
An hour later Bertiocame running in.
"O. mamma, may I go coasting on
Firehill-with the boys?
Mrs. Martin was running a noisy ma
chine. "Wait a minute," she answered; "I
want to finish this seam." And she
rattled away, while Bertie screamed in
vain that the boys were going right
away. His mother finished her seam,
smoothed it out, looked at the stitches;
at last she said: "What is it?"
Bertie told her again.
"I'm afraid it's 100 cold," answered
Mrs. Martin, "but I will look at the
thermometer in a minute and if it is
above twenty degrees you may go."
So in about a quarter of an hour when
Mrs. Martin had finished her sewing she
looked at the thermometer and gave
Bert e the promised permission, but by
that time the other bovs had gone and
poor Bertie must trudge through the
snow alone. At dinner time he rushed
in hungry as a hawk and in a great
hurry to eat and be off.
"Dinner will be ready in a minute,"
said Sue.
But it wasn't ready for nearlv an
hour. And so it was all day Ions;
whatever he asked the answer was: "In
a minute." Whatever he wanted he
must wait a very long minute, just as
he had kept other peeple waiting. I
think Bertie learned a lesson of prompt
obedience from that uncomfortable day,
and I never heard him say "In a min
ute" afterward. Philadelphia Call.
Snuff-Taking as a Cure fer Cold.
It would almost seem as if we were
threatened with another revival of an
old fashion, and that modern" society,
humbly imitative of the buildings and
furniture, the manners and customs oi
the eighteenth century, might once
more take to inulT. Dr. Mortimer Gran
ville he who lately advised the gener
al adoption of night-caps as the b st
method of obtaining a sound night's
sleep now comes forward with a pinch
of snuff as the cheapest and speediest
cure for a cold. As the next best rem
edy to violent exercise on horseback or
afoot, the doctor recommends to the
man who has caught cold a large
pinch of pungent snuff good rappee
or fine Scotch, anything that is sharp
and stimulating." He is likewise to
wrap his coat around him, and'so pro
duce a strong, but not too prolonged, fit
of sneezing. The patient is" to keep on
snuding and sneezmg "until the skin is
slightly moistened with perspiration"
and the nervous orjranism recovers from
the effects of the chill. Already the gilded
affect, alono- with fob-chains and bon
bonnieres, little caskets filled with per
fumed powdered tobacco, and if Dr.
Mortimer Granville's advice gratis be
accepted and followed everybody will
carry a snuff box. London Daily Tel-graph,
W. 1?. SEEDS,
A-ttorney at Law,
ABILENE, KANSAS.
BTAMBAUGH & HtJItD,
-Attorneys at 31aw
ABILENE, KANSAS.
CljLBEKTSON & MEAD,
.Attorneys at Law,
ABILENE, KANSAS.
Mf"WlIi practico in ihs neTOral courts of the
s.tntc Office in Probate Judge's office,- Coast
Houso Bio Jc.
T. E. Bonzdrake, Prcj. W.K. DaTER,Cak.
FIRST NATIONAL BANK,'.
Of -AJbileno.
CAPJTAL, $73,000. SURPLUS, $T5,0CO.
ABIXiENE BANK.
C H. Lxbold, J. Jr. Fisnxit. J. E. Hzsarr, Pros.
E. A. llxxBST, Ca-h!cr.
farOur individual liability is not limited, as
is tho case witu stockholders of
incorporated bank.
LEBOLD, FISHER & CO., Bankers.
THOMAS RIRBY,
Banker,
ABILENE, KANSAS.
TRANSACTS A
GENERAL BANKING BUSINESS.
5P'
and sells foreign und domestic exchange.
NEGOTIATES MORTGAGE LOANS.
t3"All business promptly attended to.
M. L. POTTER,
General Auctione
f
WOODBINE P. 0., KANSAS.
Will cry sales of all kind3 at reasonable rates.
Satisfaction guaranteed or no pay.
G. W. LIGGETT,
AUCTIONEER,
All sales promptly attended to and satinfao
Hon guaranteed. Post-office address, Abilene,
Kansas.
F. A. SHALLEY,
AUCTIONEER.
Understands the business thoroughly; good
prices guaranteed, and will work an cheap aa
any one. Post-office, Abilene, Kansas.
GEO. A. NILES,
GENERAL AUCTIONEER
for Dickinson and adjoining counties. Abou
ten years' practice in the Eastern and Westerr
States. Charges reasonable, and satisfaction
guaranteed. Post-office address, Abilene.
Kansas.
RATJB & JACKSON,
D entists,
(Successors to Dr. Crise.)
Dental Parlors cor. Broadway and Second 6ti
All operations known to the Dental profear
sion rerformed in the most skillful manner
Teeth extracted without pain by tho uso oJ
local anaesthetics and gas.
Cottage Hotel,,
J. W. GORE, Propr. f
H. J. HUDSON, x
House and Carriage Painter.
SHOP South of Nicolay's Lumber Yard,
ABILENE, KANSAS. I '
JOHN J.'PRICHARD, tU.
Plain and Ornamental Plasterer,
JUNCTION CITY, KAS5.
"Work guaranteed and prices reasonable. All
orders promptly attended to. Address Box Iti,
Junction City, Kansas.
PaVTRONIZE TJETE
NEW BAKEEY
ITcrr iJ'reali Bread,
G'alies, Fies, ,i
Crackers, eta
Lunch and Hot Coffee at All Hoars.
CIGARS A -SPECIALTY."
S The publio is invited to call and see n
on the corner of Third and Spruce streets. -
.
SORTER & U3IBRELL
ri
i
FRANK A. SM ALLEY;,
REAL ESTATE,
INSURANCE aacL - ' "j
COLLECTION AGENTS
Abstracts of Titles Furnished, '
Taxes Paid, Rents Collected
ind money Judiciously intes.ed for non-resi;
dents. ' ' .
I represent several or tho best Fire, Light
nlng and Tornado Insuninco Companies In the
world. Lancashire, Manchcytor, England,
British America. Tor.oit-. Canada, Firo Asso
lntlon of Philadelphia. Ulen Fall, New York.
All business promptiy and faithfully attended
jo.
KELLER'S
r
Champion '
Bakery
9.
EAST THIRD STREET.
The Best of Bread,
Pies and Cakes
ALWAYS Q.N' nAND.
,ty
WMOKEHY ail- CAMK
A SPIXriALTYi ' ) f t f
IDE CREAM A! OYSTER
dSEASOX.
J
r
fi
X
V
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a