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3 ripf/'"*": r- Wf Pit The -Denison Review E E .1 DENISON, 1 IOWA. -UNCLE ABNER'S VIEW. If people always tried to take the good advice they git They'd have to start out early and they'd find no place to quit They wouldn't have no time to set and fret and stew around, And -probably they'd have to let their crops rot in the ground To-morrow they would have to spoil the work they done to-day, For every man you meet is sure to know some better way Most every day it tickles me just thinkin' that live Where people ain't compelled to take ad vice tha* others give. The time my wife got »ick some said to send for Dr. Brown, But others said Dr. Gray beat all the rest in town They told me of their failures and the cures they both had made, Some run Gray down, some' said that Brown was no good at his trade They brought in medicine and told of other kinds to buy, And everybody had some plan they wanted me to try, But Liza Ann she just said no, she wouldn't take a bit Of what thsy brought or let me buy the 'stult they sala to git. It troubled me a lot because I couldn't make her say Which of the two her first choice wa^ "Doc" Brown or Dr. Gray, And so I kind of waited round, just hopin' like, you know, And puttin' oft and puttin' oft, as folks will here below, Till purty soon It made her mad to think I didn't toar Away to git both doctors, so she rlz up then and there!— She's well again, and I still claim that it's all-fiered nice To think you needn't guide yourself by every fool's advice. —S. E. Kiser, in Chicago Record. A Daughter of the Sioux By GEN. CHARLES KINO. Cwyrlgkt, UK, by Tbg Hohart Company. CHAPTER XV.—CONTINUED. But the team, although ready, did not start northward at ten, and the general, though he saw Mrs. Hay, had no speech with her upon the import ant matters uppermost in his mind during the earlier hours of the day. He found that good lady in a state of wild excitement and alarm. One of the two outriders who had started •with her husband and niece at dawn .was mounted on a dun-colored pony, with white face and feet. One of Ihe two troopers sent by Dade to overtake and bring them back, was turning a blown and exhausted horse over to the care of Hay's stablemen, he briefly told his story to the wild-eyed, well-nigh distracted wo man. Six miles up stream, he said, they had come suddenly upon a dun colored cow pony, dead in his tracks, with white feet in air and white muz zle bathed in blood bridle, saddle and rider gone signs of struggle in places no signs of the party, the team and wagons anywhere. "And no cavalry to send out after them!" said Dade, when he reached Ihe spot. Old Crabb was called at once, and mustered four semi-invalid troopers. The infantry supplied half a dozen stout riders, and, with mixed escort, the general, accompa nied by Dade and an aide-de-camp, drove swiftly to the scene. Six miles away they found the dead pony Seven miles away they encountered ?v the second trooper, coming back. He '&» had followed the trail of the four mule team as far as yonder point, he said, and there he was met by half a dozen shots from unseen foe, and so £«, rode back out of range. But Dade threw his men forward as skrmish f'l cm found no living soul either at the point or on the banks of the rocky ford beyopd but, in the shal lows, close to the shore, lay the body of the second outrider, shot and scalped. In a clump of willows lay another body, that of a pinto pony hardly cold, while the soft, sandy shores were cut by dozens of hoof tracks—shoeless. The tracks of the mules and wagon lay straight away across the stream bed—up the oppo fite bank and out on the northward sweeping bench beyond. Hay's fa mous four, and well-known wagon contents and all, therefore, had been spirited away, not toward the haunts of the road agents in the mountains of the Medicine Bow, but to those of the sovereign Sioux in the fastnesses of the storied Bitr Horn. CHAPTER XVI. In the full of the September moon the war bands of the Sioux had de-' fied agents and peace chiefs, commis sioners and soldiers, and started their wild campaign in northern Wyoming. In the full of the October moon the l-ig chief of the whites had swept the last vestige of their wai4iors from the plains, and followed their bloody trails into the heart of the mountains, all his cavalry and much of his foot force being needed for the work in hand. Not until November, therefore, when the ice bridge spanned the still reaches of the Platte, and the snow lay deep in the brakes of the coulees, did the fore most of the fiomeward-bound com mands come in view of old Fort Frayne, and meantime very remark able things had occurred, and it was to a very different, if only tempo rary, post commander that Sandy reported them as "sighted." tve old Dade bad been sum- moned to the front, with all his men, and in their place had come from dis tant posts in Kansas other troops to occupy the vacant quarters and strive to feel at home in strange surround ings. A man of austere mold was the new major-^cne of the old Covenanter type, who would march to battle shouting hymn tunes, and to Christ mas and Thanksgiving chanting dole ful lays. He hailed, indeed, from old Puritan stock had been a pillar in the village church in days before the great war, and emulated Stonewall Jackson in his piety, if he did not in material prowess. Backed by lo cal, and by no means secular, influ ences he had risen in the course of the four years' war from a junior lieutenancy to the grade of second in command of his far eastern regi ment had rendered faithful services in command of convalescent camps and the like, but developed none of that vain ambition which prompts the seeking of "the bubble reputa tion" at the cannon's mouth. All he ever knew of southern men in antebellum days was what he heard from the lips of inspired orators or read from the pens of very evrnest anti-slavery editors. Through lack of opportunity he had met no south erner before the war, and carried his stanch, Calvinistic prejudices to such extent that he seemed to shrink from the closer contact even then. The war was holy. The hand of the Lord would surely smite the slave holding arch rebel, which was per haps why the Covenanter thought it work of supererogation to raise his own. He finished as he began the war, with unalterable conviction that the southern president, his cabinet and all his leading officers should be hung and their lands confiscated to the state—or its representatives. He had been given a commission in the army when such things were not hard to get—at the Reorganization in '66, had been stationed in a Ku Klux district all one winter and in a sani tarium most of the year that fol lowed. He thought the nation on the highroad to hell when it failed to impeach the president of high crimes and misdemeanors, and sent Han cock to harmonize matters in Louis iana. He was sure of it when the son of a southerner who had openly flouted him, was sent to West Point. He retained these radical views even unto the twentieth anniversary of the great surrender and, while de voutly ?rayine for forgiveness of .n a.<p></p>Co ...tv/ki* 4- CrtVfi. £"ilis, uever seem to for. give those whose lot had been cast with the south. He was utterly non plussed when told that the young of ficer, languishing in hospital on his arrival, was the sou of a distin guished major general of the con federate army, and he planned for the father a most frigid greeting, until reminded that the former ma jor general was now a member of congress and of the committee on military affairs. Then it became his duty to overlook the past. The general had to leave for the front without seeing Mrs. Hay. More than ever was it necessary that he should be afield, for this exploit showed that some of the Sioux, at least, had cut loose from the main body and had circled back toward the Platte—Stabber's people in all probability. So, sending Crabb and his little squad across the river to follow a few miles, at least, the trail of the wagon and its captors, and as certain, if possible whither it had gone, he hurried back to Frayne sent messengers by the Laramie road to speed the cavalry, and orders to the colonel to send two troops at once to rescue Hay and his niece sent wires calling for a few rein forcements, and was off on the way to Beecker, guarded by a handful of sturdy "doughboys" in ambu lances, before ever the body of the second victim was found And then, little by little, it trans pired that this mysterious war party, venturing to the south bank of the Platte, did not exceed half a dozen braves. Crabb got back in 36 hours, 'with five exhausted men They had followed the wheel tracks over the open prairie and into the foothills far to the northwest, em boldened by tji'e evidence of there being but few ponies in the original bandit escort. But, by four in the afternoon, they got among the breaks and ravines and, first thing they knew, among the Indians, for zip came the bullets and down went two horses, and they had to dis mount and fight to stand off possi ble swarms, and, though owning they had seen no Indians, they had proof of having felt them, and were war ranted in pushing no further. After dark they began their slow retreat and here they were. And for seven days that was the last heard, by the garrison, at least, of these most recent captives of the Sioux. Gentle and sympathetic wo men, however, who called on Mrs. Hay, were prompt to note that though unnerved, unstrung, dis tressed, she declared again and again her faith that the Indians would never really harm her hus band. They might hold him and Nanette as hostages for ransom. They might take for their own pur poses his wagon, his mules and that store of money, but his life was safe, yes, and Nanette's too. Of this she was so confident that people be gan to wonder whether she had not received some assurance to that ef fect, and when Pete, the stable boy driver, turned up at the end of the first week with a cock and bull story about having stolen an Indian pony and shot his way from the midst of the Sioux away up on No Wood Creek, on the west side of ihe hills, and as having ridden by night aiid hidden by day until he got back to the Platte and Frayne, people felt sure of it. Pete could talk Sioux better than he could jabber English. He declared the Indians were in the hills by thousands, and were going to take Hay and the young lady away off somewhere to be held for safe keeping. He said the two troops that, never even halting at Frayne, had pushed out on the trail, would only get into trouble if they tried to enter the hills from the south, and that they would never get the captives, wherein Pete was right, for away out among the spurs and gorges of the range, 50 miles from Frayne, the pursuers came up on the wreck of the wagon at the foot of an acclivity, up which a force of Sioux had gone in single file. Many warriors it would seem, how ever, must have joined the party on the way, and from here—where with the wagon was found Hay's stout box, bereft of its contents—in four different directions the pony tracks of little parties crossed or climbed the spurs, and which way the cap tives had been taken, Capt. Billings, the commander, could not determine. What the Sioux hoped he might do was divide his force into four de tachments and send one on each trail. Then they could fall upon them, one by one, and slay them at their leisure. Billings saw the game, "T "THE PURSUERS CAME UPON THE WRECK OF THE WAGON." however, and was not to be caught. He knew Bill Hay, hjs past and his popularity kmo'rig rfcdlhen. He knew that if they meant to kill him at all they would not have taken the trouble to cart him miles before hand. He dropped the stern chase then and there, and on the following day skirted the foothills away to the east and, circling round to the breaks of the Powder as he reached the open country, struck and hard hit a scout ing band of Sioux, and joined the general three days later, when most he was needed, near the log pali sades of 'Old Fort Beecher. Then there had been more or less of mysterious coming and going among the half-breed hangers-on about the trader's store, and these were things the new post commander knew not how to interpret, even when informed of them. He saw Mrs. Hay but once or twice. He moved into the quarters of Maj. Webb, possessing himself, until his own should arrive, of such of the ma jor's belongings as the vigilance of Mistress McGann would suffer. He stationed big guards from his two small companies about the post ,and started more hard swearing among his own men, for "getting only two nights in bed," than had been heard at Frayne in long months of less pious post commandership. He strove to make himself agreeable to the ladies, left lamenting for their lords, but as luck would have it, fell foremost into the clutches of the quartermaster's wife, the dominant and unterrified Wilkins. Just what prompted that energetic and, in many ways, estimable wo man, to take the new major into close communion, and tell him not only what she knew, but what she thought, about, all manner of mat ters at the post, can never be justly determined. But within the first few days of his coming, and on the eve of the arrival cf Gen. Field, Maj. Flint was in possession of the story of how devoted young Field had been to Esther Dade, and how cruelly he had jilted her for the brilliant Miss Flower, "her that was gone with the Sioux." The differences be tween her stout, veteran liege and the smooth-faced stripling had gfven her text to start with. The story of the money lost had filtered from her lips, and finally that of other pecca dilloes, attributable to the young post adjutant, whom, as she said, "The ineejor had to rejuice and sind to the front all along of his doin's in gar'son." Dade was gone. There was no man save Wilkins to whom Maj. Flint felt that he could appeal for confirmation or denial of these stories. Dr. Waller was his senior in the service by ten years at least, and a tj'pe of the old-time officer and gentleman of whom such as Flint stood ever in awe. He preferred, therefore, as he thought, to keep the doctor at a distance, to make him feel the immensity of his, the post commander's station, and so, as Wil kins dare not disavow the sayings of his wife, even had he been so mind ed, the stories stood. Flint was thinking of them this very evening when Dr. Waller, hap pening to meet him on his way from hospital, briefly said that Gen. Field should be with them on the morrow. "He leaves Rock Creek to-night, hav ing hired transportation there. I had hoped our lad might be in better spir its by this time." The major answereS vaguely. How could a lid with all these sins upon bis soul be.jn onythiusr but low spir wis& nV~ff .•-••(Ci.j, .-^ v--* its? Here was a brand to be snatched from the burning, a youth whom prompt, stern measures might re deem and restore, one who should be taught the error of his ways forthwith only, the coming of the member of the military committee of the house of representatives might make the process embarrassing. There were other ways, therefore and however, in which this valuable information in the major's posses sion might be put to use, and cf these was the major thinking, more than of the condition of the wounded lad, physical or spiritual, as home ward through the gloaming he wend ed his way. That night the major, calling at Capt. Dade's, was concerned to hear that Mrs. Dade was not at home. "Gone over to the hospital with Mrs. Blake and the doctor," was the ex planation, and these gentle-hearted women, it seems, were striving to do something to rouse the lad from the slough of despond which had en gulfed him. That night "Pink" Mar ble, Hay's faithful bookkeeper and clerk for many a year, a one-armed veteran of the civil war, calling, as was his invariable custom when the trader was absent, to leave the keys of the safe and desks with Mrs. Hay, was surprised to find her in a flood of tears, for which she declined all explanation yet the sight of Pete, the half-breed, slouching away to ward the stables as Marble closed the gate, more than suggested cause, for "Pink" had long disapproved of that young man. That night Cra paud, the other stableman, had scan dalized Jerry Sullivan, the barkeeper, and old McGann, Webb's Hibernian major domo, by interrupting their game of Old Sledge with a demand for a quart of whisky on top of all that he had obviously and surrepti tiously been drinking, and by further indulging, in furious threats, in a sputtering mixture of Dakota French and French Dakota, when summarily kicked out. That night, late as 12 o'clock, Mrs. Ray, aroused by the in fantile demands of the fourth of the olive branches, and further disturbed by the suspicious growling® and chal lenge of old Tonto, BlaKe's veteran mastiff, peeped from the second story window and plainly saw two forms in soldier overcoats at the back fence, and wondered what the sen tries found about Blake's quart6r& to require so much attention. Then she became aware of a third forjn, rifle bearing, and slowly pacing the curv ing line of the bluff—the sentry, be yond doubt. Who, then, were these others who had ftow totally disap peared? She thought to speak of it to Nannie in the morning, and then thought not. There were reasons why nervous alarm of any kind were best averted then from Mrs. Blake. But there came reason speedily why Mrs. Ray could not forget it. And that night, later still, along toward four o'clock, the persistent clicking of the telegraph instrument at the adjutant's office caught the ear of the sentry, who in time stirred up the operator, and a "rush" mes sage was later thrust into the hand of Maj. Flint, demolishing a day-old castle in the air. "From Rock Creek. Wyoming. October 13, 188—. 9:15 p. m. Commanding Officer, Fort Frayne: Via Fort Laramie. Stage capsized Crook Canon. Gen. Field seriously injured. Have wired Omaha. (Signed) "WARMER, One day a fat little colored woman came into a dime savings-bank. She carried a huge basket of clothes, and her remark, as she handed in her book, was, "I want to draw my re mains." Many people, chiefly women, ex pect the bank to put aside for them the identical coins which they de posit, never thinking, apparently, that the bauk can make no gain on money that it does not put out at interest. A young woman came into a branch savings-bank with two double eagles of the year 1S40. "I should like to have these back when I draw out my money," she said. The clerk explained to her that all money which came into the bank must be turned to practical use at once. "But," she expostulated, "those arn valuable pieces, and they might get lost if you let them go into circula tion. And besides, think of the dis ease they might accumulate and bring back to me!" Some time after the closing hour of a large bank which makes a specialty of the accounts of wealthy women, an elegantly dressed woman attempt ed vigorously to open the door. "Shall I let her in?" asked the jani tor. "Yes, we'll make an exception in her case," replied the teller, who was rather impressed by her appearance. "I should like to open an account," she said, looking at the teller through her lorgnette. "For how much, madam?" "About seventy-five," she answered. The teller made out a book for $75. The woman handed him seventy-five cents. That was the last time tbu cashier ever "made an exception." teTiteoiiniiiagfciSa mmmr I Commanding Camp." [To Be Continued.] CASHIER'S LAST EXCEPTION. A Would-Be DepoHitor Who Cupped tlie Cliuiux for the Long-Sailer ing Bunk Official. The bank teller sees all kinds of people, and so has many stories to tell of the men and women whose fortunes pass through his hands. A writer in the Detroit Free Press has been gathering the adventures of some of those patient and careful men who stand behind the grille, and receive and deliver the money of the world. WE tfjfflfrt'iirfr-fft'iit /'V^v-'^^g KiSg-ftSMSv'SfSWl® Complications of Present Day Life By REV. R. A. WHITE, Distinguished Universalist Pastor of Chicago. IFE lias become a tumult. The average man and woman is enmeshed in a complication of wants, necessities and & confusions. Business has taken on complications that rob it of pleasure and threaten it with a constant un certainty. We have become complex in our pleasures. Simple entertainment no longer satisfies. The stage, the press, art, fiction and music are all in a mad rush to create or find new sensations for a restless, dis- satisfied patronage, burdened with many cares and oppressed by an indescribable ennui. Our lack of simplicity in pleasures is quite equaled by our lack of simplicity in dress.. More of life's happiness depends upon clothes than we drean of. Simple, tasteful dress scarcely exists any more. The sin against the Holy Ghost is nothing compared with being destitute of the various suits in various styles prescribed by the latest conven tion of clothesmakers. Turn where you will and life is confusion, tumult, lacking in the calm dignity and serene happiness of the days of our forefathers. Life is characterized by a complexity of wants^aad requirements which would have made the dames and squires of. olden time stare, indeed. Many of these wants are legitimate and indicate a real growth in refinement and culture. But our modern life does not stop there. We are mad over superfluous wants. We are in full chase after things we do not need. Now, what is the result of all this? First, there is not real and genuine happiness in it. No one contends that life is happier under" our new conditions than it was in the days of simple tastes and practices. Our women are not rosy and contended-looking our young men breed wrinkles early. The more we have of this artificial, overstimulating side of our modern life the more we want. We are feverish with an artificial thirst. This artificial life of ours is the cause of a good part of our modern dishonesties. It makes us pretend to be what we are not. To keep up appearances people wear clothes which they have not paid for and cannot afford. To march with the procession people eat food for which they have not paid the grocer, live in houses with rent in arrears and affect a style of life and living they have no visible means of supporting. From the snare of small debts brought on by expensive living many a man seeks to escape by uncertain speculations and finally by certain peculations. How tired and sick everyone is of it all is shown by our annual summer or winter migrations to quiet places where we enjoy life in our shirt sleeves, live in board cottages on wholesome food, rise late and retire early and live for a few weeks like the human animals we are. Greatest Need of the slge By REV. J. H. HACKENBERG, Of New York City. ,•••••: IS necessary that you be physically strong in this busy/ rushing age. Men must rise early, work hard through long, weary hours, and strike sledge hammer, blows if they hope to succeed in any vocation of life. The age is^l moving faster and faster, and unless we strive and work and run, we shall be left behind and soon forgotten. So busy are men that they have little time for eating, for, sleeping, or for dying. They eat rapidly, sleep sparingly, and die quickly. The body must not be forgotten if it shall stand the strain put upon it. Physical culture in an age like this is an imperative necessity. The age demands intellectual strength. Success in any department of life has its intellectual basis. The tide of popular education is rising under the attractive force of the newspaper, the school, the college, the university. The call of the trades, the homes, and the professions is for men and women who know something. The one who knows nothing and is not even certain of that fact is a failure anywhere. By an intellectual man I do not mean one capable of calculat ing eclipses or translating Plato's Greek, or reciting Horace at dinner tables, but one who, whether in school or out of it, knows the history of the past, has a mental grasp upon the needs of the present, and has abounding hope for the future—a man who discerns and explodes the fallacy in any old custom, though it be adored for centuries, and dis covers the falsehood in the latst fad, though it have popular approval a man who turns not his back upon the stoutest conservatism when in the direction of true progress, and yet keeps not looking back everlastingly. The Future of Woman By REV. DR. N. D. HILLIS, Prominent Pastor of New York City. If man don't ^ant women to outstrip him in the industrial race and compel him to come to them when he wants 50 cents, he would better stop drinking poo? whisky and quit gambling at race tracks and in pool rooms. Women, in spite of man's refusal to give them th»t rights and privileges to which they are entitled, are to-day in 145 branches of business and in instance* showing more ability than the men. In one of the greatest financial institutions of New York city not long ago a well known man, drawing a salary of $25,000 a year, suffered a nervous collapse. The directors selected the young woman who for ten years had been the stenographer. She, the directors told me, had done better work than the man she suc ceeded, and is doing it for but $10,000 a year. In fifty years the women will know more than the men. They have more time to read and study and they are improving their time. Eventually they will vote and tell the men for whom they shall vote. Eventually all the universities will be coeducational, and the women will carry off all the prizes. Wives sire Driven Tandem By DR. EMIL G. HIRSCH. cannot complain of the Mohammedan too much because his. religion countcnances polygamy, because in the western countries, iSMfl it is practiced as well. It has lately spread to the United! States and is becoming common here. The only difference between the polygamy of the westerner and thai of the Moslem seem to be that the former drives his wives tandem and the latter four-in-hand, assuming that he has four. People who live iiv glass houses should not throw stones. "i,.' 4 •4t ......... ....... .. ... e1' ui a5H£'*"_ ~'i A '-r 9^ jsj r'l 'A -I \-:4 »-i- ,= -SPiT! pjH! t-3-t $ %4 v.