The Manitowoc pilot. [volume], December 06, 1900, Image 7

About The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932

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OLD FeiIENDS.
We love them very dearly, the old familiar
p'. ICf s.
The roid where every turn we know, the
trees that o’er it bend:
The meadow (trasses waving, and the lit
tle flower faces.
And the lifted hills benignant, each one
a steadfast friend,
[We love the soft and springing sod, oft
as our footsteps pres - It—
The litth wayside brie;; that reach their
clinging lingers out;
The 1 wly rest half hidden In the dusky
hedge—God bless It!
And all the common things that gird the
common day about.
There’s one wide branching maple that was
tall when we were tending
The baby lambs beneath it in the years
of i ng ago.
There’s one great shadowy oak that stood.
Its friendly shelter lending
To our parents, when they courted, its
tenting shade below.
The trees, the hills, the pastures, the lanes
we oft have trodden,
Of us they are a part, our blood has
caught a thrill from them.
We may walk to-day In purple, where once
we walked In hodden.
But the selfsame soul Is In us: we are
theirs In root and stem.
We love them very dearly, the old familiar
places;
In Heaven T think the road will wear a
look like ours at home;
The fields of living urr.n recall the pleas
ant beckoning faces
Of the meadow-lands that hold us fast,
how far sue'er we roam.
-Sfargai’ct E. Snngster, in Youth's Com
panion.
♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦
I His Two Constituencies ♦
rH ♦♦♦ ♦ ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦ ♦♦♦+♦
CHAPTER I.
IT WAS years since we had met. We
parted in anger—site in tears. Site
smacked me. and I (that I should have
to admit it!) smacked her back.
“You're a nasty, horrid, cruel boy!"
she said, sobbing.
The tears brought ootnptinofion. but
the adjectives prevented avowal.
"Anyway, you’re only a girlish girl."
“I’m not!” she responded, stamp
ing her foot. So we parted.
When I came down from Oxford,
many years after, it was deemed neces
sary that I should engage in some use
ful employment, lit dear mother was
most emphatic on the matter. 1 did
not attempt to temporize.
“Mater." I said. "I leave the'matter
entirely in your hands; I have the
greatest confidence in your discre
tion.”
She kissed me tenderly, remarking
that ]
We have an estate in 1 Lank-hire, and
are in our little w ay count ry magnates.
My mother, who is a woman of sur
prising en rgy. immediately com
menced asking inlim curious \ eople to
our dinner parties. In a short time
1 was the accepted conservative can
didate. with (I was informed) fair
prosp. ets of ousting the radical mem
ber at the next general election.
Politics were, therefore, my profes
sion. tlf course, I have to make
speeches, but I am vein intelligent, and
people ave published handle 'ks.
In the intervals, which were not
short. I lived in London 1 appily. Lon
don is a pleasant place, and I enjoy it.
I went out a giant deal, knew many
nice girls, and irritate and many mothers.
I once overheard an o r (nil; seri
ous y to her da ugh ’ < ria a e ui.-i ii at ory.
I was bt hind ai ad ja • nt pit 1 tn. and
could not easily get away. Si • alludid
to me unflatteringly. a:; 1 tu nr.d up:
“He has only a limits uni a year,
and will never have much more. So
you must not encourage Herald Meri
vaie. Now mind. Gertrude."
Gertrude wept a little (I am sure of
this, because her nose was a little red
when we met later), and stopped en
couraging me. I did not blame her.
Rite was quite right. I confess I like a
girl with robust common sense.
Hut it is not about Herfimle I am
writing. It is of Alice Man-ell, the
“site" alluded to at (he commence
ment.
Little Hobby Durden name to my
club and began to talk excitedly to
me about a “stunner.”
“You’ve no ideah.” he said.
“It is not kind of you to say so."
“I’m talkin’ about the girl. She’s
just come out. and by Jove, isn’t she a
oner!”
“What girl?" I asked.
“Her name’s Alice Mansell. My aunt,
Lady Oekington, is running her. The
daughter of Mansell, the Rail way John
ny. They say she’s a hundred mil
lions."
1 yawned a little. Ecstasies always
bore me.
“I know as a fact,” I replied, “that
the figure you mention is considerably
■below the mark."
His ja\V dro/ped. “Really!" he said.
“Or are you at your confounded sar
casm again?”
“Introduce me,” I said, “and you shall
be best man.”
“Look here, let me tell you— ’’ he be
gan.
“You shall have as much wedding
cake as you like.” 1 interrupted, sooth
ingly.
“You’re a —”
“A regular tuck in.”
“I tell you you’re an ass.”
“You presume on your aunt,” I said,
severely.
“But you needn’t introduce me. I
had forgotten for the moment. I know
her. Rite was my playmate. I used to
hit her. In fact, 1 think I adopted her.
1 forgot whether as a sister or it daugh
ter. One of the two. Rhe is v, ry fond
of me.”
“I always did think you conceited,
but I’m dashed if ever—”
“Will she he at the Martens’ this aft
ernoon ?” I asked.
He replied reluctantly in the affirm
ative.
“If I have time I’ll run in and see
her." I said, taking up a rew-paper.
"I supp ise you’U kiss her," he said,
se iftiugly.
“Ce Plainly.”
Bobby retired, uttering inarticulate
•ouuds aud red in the face.
CHAPTER n.
I went to the Marten* that after
noon. A- I was entering the drawing
room 1 encountered Hobby at the door.
He grinned iiulietively.
"She’s in there.” he said, jerking his
thumb over his shoulder, "(to am! kbs
her.”
I look no notice of his foolish re
marks. or of the laugh from the group
of men around him. It is belter to ig
nore vulgarity when you have no rep
artee.
1 crossed the room lo speak to Lady
Marten. The room was crowded. As 1
was speaking to Iter Lady Oekington
arose from her seat and came to her.
She was fallowed by a girl, whom I rec
ognized (though how she had changed
and how beautiful she had grown I) as
Alice.
Wit Me Lady Oekington was saying
her adieus I turned to Alice. I saw she
recognized me.
“Alice, my dear!” I said. I felt rather
than sa w Lady Oekington wheel about.
Alice quit out her hand and smiled.
I took her hand.
“What an immense girl you have
grown!" I went on. “You'vegrown too
big to kiss!”
She looked surprised, but 1 bent for
ward and kissed her lightly on the
cheek.
“Mr. Men’vale!" she said, but I
thought she did not look offended.
“Oh. you must still call me Jerry,”
1 said, hastily. “I suppose you will be
leaving school soon?”
Lady Oekington. who had been re
garding me as if I were an intrepid
frog, interfered.
“Miss Mansell has left school some
years.” site said, in an awful tone.
“Oh. she has a governess, 1 suppose.
Well, Alice.” I said, “I hope you are
a better girl than you used to be.”
“Alice, we must go," said Lady Ock
ington.
“Good-by," I said. 1 still held Iter
hand. “I will call some day and take
you to the waxworks.”
She smiled as -lie left me and fol
lowed Lady Oekington from the room.
I was glad site smiled. I should not
have acted as 1 did.
During HTs incident the stillness in
the room was terrible. Conversation
begun again. I turned tn Lady Marten
and began to speak of Pinero's coming
play. But she was laughing con
vulsively .
"Vou wicked, dreadful young man.”
she saiil. “Mr. Durden told me what
you intended to do. but ! couldn't have
be.ievid you would have dared. Not
eV’ n you. And Lady Oekington there!"
I protested that Miss Mansell and I
were old friends. Nothing could shake
her conviction that we had never met
before; that I had kissed a girl who
wtts an intirt" stranger. This was (he
general impression, thanks to Hobby's
foolish talk.
But 1 am not as bad as all that.
The next day 1 called tit Lady Oc
kington’s house. ' did not expect to
be admitted, but 1 felt it would only
be kind to call.
The door was opened by an ttnin
telliyiul page boy. Lady Oekington
was out. Miss .Mansell was in. Joy!
On tin' stairs I encountered Hie but
ler. who knew me. He directed n kill
ing glance toward the lad. Hut it
was too late.
Alice was alone in the room. Rhe
came to me with the prettiest air o)
confusion, I took her hand.
"Alice—Miss Mansell," 1 said, “for
the last 24 hours my friends havi
been teliing me that I have made a
mistake. Did I make a mistake?"
“Mr. Merivalo.” she said, “for the
last 24 hours Lady Oekington inis be a
telling me you didn’t make a mistake.
Did you make a mistake?"
It was all right, site was smiling.
“Alice -Miss Mansell; f cannot tell
a lie unnecessarily; it was not a mis
take —it was intentional.”
She shook her head.
“I don’t think it was quite nice of
you.” site .-aid.
1 responded eagerly.
“N’ott are quile right; it was hor
rid. But I have an explanation."
"Explain," site said, majestically.
At the moment we heard a ring.
“It is Lady Oekington!” exc’aiined
Alice.
“Shall I hide?’’ I asked.
“We are going to the Pinkerton's to
night,’’ she said, looking out of the
window its Lady Oekington entered.
CHAPTER 111.
The general election was on. 1 had
to make four speeches every night, be
sides canvassing during the day. I
should have preferred not to. Hut 1
had an agent. He said he was my
agent, otherwise I should have
thought our positions were reversed.
Among other things he made me go
to church on Sundays. It was nec
essary, lie said, to conciliate the
church people. We also went to the
Methodist chapel to eoneiliate tiie
dissenters. The result was we an
noyed hot h.
At the church I recognized a lady
with Alice's buck hair. She also had
Alice’s profile. In fact, it turned out
to be Alice herself. She wtts visiting
her uncle. Col. Western, with whom
she had lived in her younger days.
I told my agent that our great de
fect wits it want of lauyr canvassers,
He proffered his w ife. I accepted her,
but said I would call on Col. Western
and see if 1 couldn’t pick out a few
more.
"But Col. Western is opposed to
us."
i‘Hc is most good nattired," I re
plied. “I am sure he will lend us a
few.”
My agent sighed. He was n consci
entious man, and had seurples as to
whether I was a fit person for the
house of commons. “If he were only
as sensible a- some of his speeches!”
he said to rny mother once.
Nevertheless. I- i.t my tt,other over
to Col. Western's, and she returned in
triumph with Alice, who, as it hap
pons, was a radical of the most tin
bending principles.
Wo used to canvass together. The
agent’s wife came too. Alice thought
(his host. The agent expostulated at
the absurdity and waste of time in
volved in three people doing the
work of one. Wo pointed out how
much more thoroughly the work was
done. When we had all had a turn
at the fortunate elector he was not
in a condition to refuse his vote. Hut
the agent would not Ik 1 silenced till
Alice got his wife to stop him with
a glance.
The polling day came. Alice and my
mother, the agent and 1 drove from
polling booth to polling booth. To
ward eight o’clock the agent came
to me dolefully, and said he feared
my return was improbable. 1 was
very sorry for the poor man. He
had worked so hard. When 1 told
my mother slip burst into tears. She
must also have been sorry for bint.
Alice comforted her like the dear,
kind girl she is.
“It is his own fault,” said my moth
er, when slip was comforted; “he is
so flippant.”
I assured her he was most serious
minded.
“Who?”
“The agent.”
Site became sorrowful. Again Alice
had to comfort her. To do so she said
kind things about me. but ray mother
would not agree with her.
“He Inns disappointed me. He will
not obey me. I have begged and begged
him to pay attention to Mbs Western,
of the castle. We should have had
their influence.” She wept again. Alice
comforted her.
My mother went on: “He will not he
serious. If he would'only marry some
solid, strong-minded girl! Hut. no. he
insists on going his own way. Vet I’m
his mother.”
Alice turned her reproachful gaze
nw me.
“I think it is very unkind of you not
to marry when your mother tells you
to.”
“Hut the ladies won’t have me."
“I don’t lie ieve you ver nski and t hem.”
“To do so would be preposterous.”
“Why would it be preposterousV”
“Take your ease, for instance.”
“My case?” She blushed violently.
Mt mother was startled. “Herald. I
forbid s on to talk ary more nonsense,”
-he said. rising hastily and leaving tlie
room.
We were left alon'eT There was a si
lence, broken by Alice.
“Did your mother really and truly
ask yon to propose to me?”
‘.’Really and truly.”
Slu reddened charmingly.
“Why didn’t you?”
“I do! 1 do!” I responded, eagerly,
rising and going toward her.
“Vonr mother is so s >rry about
you.” she said, “Slip is so unfortu
nate in her son. I should like to make
her happy—”
She was silent, pondering.
“if you are not returned to parlia
ment it will break her heart.” She
hri 'hlened up. “We will compromise
the matter. If you are not retttrr.nl.
T aeeept yon.”
>lie ran and (old my mother, who
entered the room between liars and
smiles.
"It seems a ridiculous arrangement,
lit t Herald is always absurd. I don’t
krow what I want. I feel as if I
were standing on my head."
i ater on we went to the declaration
nf the poll, I was rcturne.i by a ma
jority of 20. My mother immediately
lagan to weep bitterly.
I looked at Mice. Thee we: du at
ing for me to address tlit er w.i.
“I am an unfortunate man.” I said.
She was looking on the ground. "I
alway s wanted to be an M. Ik’s wife,"
she whispered.
For the second time I kissed her in
public.— Hiaek and White.
•I ii iii |M‘ <1 for flic* lliuhost W litter.
In the “History of the West lirnneh
Valley” Mr. Meginness tells the story
of Marcus Hilling’s famous jump.
"Hilling was walking along the
river bank when lie suddenly became
aware that he was pursued by Indi
ans. Realizing that his only hope
of safety lay in flight, he ran with
all speed toward the precipice at,
Hlue hill, but the Indians rapidly
gained on him. Driven to the edge
of the frightful precipice, with the
savages yelling in his rear, he de
termined to jump, preferring to die
in this manner rather than to fall
beneath the tomahawk. Seizing a
large overhanging branch of a tree,
he leaped over the brink and landed
some (it) feet below on n shelf of rock,
unhurt! From this point he jumped
40 feet farther into the river, and
escaped with only a dislocation of his
shoulder. The savages were obliged
lo run round for a mile, and Hiding
had time to make his escape. It is
supposed that the brunch broke his
fall, and saved Ids life. Hiding, on
bring asked about it, replied; “I
jumped for a great wager. I jumped
lor my life!” —Youth's Companion.
I nniianmilili-.
\ voting man home from college,
wishing to inspire his little sister
with awe for his learning, pointed lo
a star and said;
“Sis, do you see that bright little
luminary? It’s bigger than this
whole world."
“No ’tain’t,” said Sis.
"Ves, it is," declared the young col
legian.
“Then why don’t it keep off the
rain?" wits the triumphant rejoinder,
—St. Louis (Hobo-Democrat,
>ln> I It in.
They are going to take a census of
the Philippines, and we shall not be
surprised, says the Chicago Times Her
ald, after the work is finished to see
a card from Aguinaldo eon,plaining
that the enumerators didn't ea.". oa
him.
MAN WHC CALLb YOU
He has a most annoy.esc way: *" i|ti!i i. yet
so "rim
He listi ns all serenely to the things you’r.
telling him;
He seems so Interested and so th r ughly
impressed
That before you know- what's happened
you are swelling out your eh. -t
And piling up small Actions with mon
fluenoy than art,
Itecause you tliink he's easy and Imagin'
you are smart.
And he bends his head to hear > u. and hi
forehead shows no frown;
He lets you tell your story out—and then
he calls you down.
It makes him happy when you undertaki
to Ax a date;
He quotes the books verbatim as h> bland
ly sets you straight.
And when you say: "I’ll bet you fifty dol
lars, '' he will let
His eyelids droop a little md r' lnaiic “I
take the bet.”
And when you tell the story which In In
fancy you knew.
He smiles and gives Its origin ami authoi
when you're through.
He politely brings cold water all s. ur ar
rogance to drown.
He’s a diabolic terror, Is (his man who
calls you down.
So, friends-, If you should meet him. have ,
can and pass him by,
Nor sufft r him to fool you with hi- soft
and kindly eye;
Nor In id the svvev t expression ot bis guile
less, open face.
Nor listen to the cadence of his voice's
soulful grace.
He Is lurking to ensnare you. for hi- only
joy in life
Is to (lit your thread of vanity wit Ii atlr.-
like a knife.
Oh. come, my fellow-bluffers —b t us drive
him from the town.
For In- maki s our lives a burden, dot s thi
tnan who calls you down.
—Washington Star.
♦ -f ♦ 4-4-♦ ♦♦ -f ♦♦ 4 * ♦ 4 4 4 4 4
: Jobson's Seaside Protege;
U l\/| US. JOUSON," said Mr .Inbson
IVI 10 'lrs. Jobson on the Imte:
porch down at tlie seaside on tin
evening before they retimed to
Washington, two weeks ago, "1 vvi-b
vou would lx’ good enottgit I" let me
have your views on the subject of
colored servants, based upon the
tmmiltiious experiences yon 1 m ha?
with the several scores of 11 m that
liave been in our employ dtiriu mai -
ril’d life in Wasliington.”
Alarm, of course, was Instantly de
picted in Mrs. Jobson's count' - at e.
"Why,” said she, “you km w that
vve have never had any troub . with
Joscjrhino during tlic (wo y> i- that
she lias been with us, and I a -m<
no one could ask for a b<
than slm— ’’
"Couldn’t they ?" cut In
son, as he began to file I im I*
and to look ominously amiab \nd
the sugar trust couldn't ask any
better consumer than that .1"
sephino, could il ? And the t< i po
tatoes and coffee and dia • at
comlrinnt ions haven’t had pretty
swell snap of it through tin patron
age of the Jobson family, and to tin
operations of that same Jo-i-phiur.
since she's been with tls, have they?
And I haven't been feeding more ' i
L’Hi residents of Hloodfields and ot 1 i
sections of the capital city given i.v■ i
to t lie occupation of—”
“Josephine is a good, honest girl."
interrupted Mrs. Job-on, sfaneh,
“and if I have oeeasionally given In i
a few little left-over ”
“This i- all coniplrteiy beside tl*
mark.” said Mr. Jobson, grandil"
quently. "The real point is tiiat I
am going to experiim nt with a whit
servant, and the white servant
going to be no k-ss a per.-on than tin
amiable, if homely, middle-aged lli
woman Nora, who is the
chief hustler around thi hotel,
“I aski and Nora this morning if she
could cook find she (old me that she
could. i did not suggest the idea
that I intended to ofTei her employ
ineiit with u- in Wa huiaton, but I
shall expect you to put the proposi
tion before her during the evening.
If site accepts. as I have no doubt
she will, she will go back with us
in tlie morning. It may be that vve
shall have to give her wages a trifie
higher than we pay to Josephine, but
stie lias all the earmarks of a high
grade womait-of-nll-woi'k. and I’m go
ing to see if I can't get hold of a
servant who will occasionally pay a
little attention to me when I make
humble reqm sis around tlie house, in
stead of treating me as if I were a
horsehair sofa of the period of 1*;, i
stored in the attic, as your beloved
Josephine does."
Mrs. Jobson looked the picture of
•onsternnt ion during this speech.
"Hut I have been watching Nora.”
she finally contrived to -ay, "and I
have noticed that when she swops
she bestows all of the sweepings un
der the bureau of our room, mid "
“Dure imagination," broke in Mr.
Jobson. in his judicial tune. "Nora
is a jewel of tidiness.”
"Hut, worse of nil," pursued Mrs.
Jobson, looking more and more
alarmed. "I am sure slu drinks. She
I append to come near me the other
■noniwig making up the room and her
breath smelt so strongly of liquor
that—”
"Mrs. Jobson,” cut in Mr. Jonson,
“I fully understand that it is one of
the privileges of your sex, of what
ever station, to endeavor to under
mine each other. This same Nora has
commended herself to me, a close ob
server, dining my stay at this hotel
as a modest, respectable, middle-aged
Irish serving woman, and if is my
desire to engage such a servant in
place of the no-account Senegamhian
at present in our employ. You will
lu- good enough to make terms with
Nora lids evening, and if she is will
ing to accompany us to Washington,
you will find at the end of two weeks
that she will prove herself absolute
ly indispensable to us."
Mrs. Jobson sighed. Hut what Mr.
Jobson said “went." and half an hour
later Mrs. Jobson found herself be
ing interrogated -by the angular,
somewhat red-nosed Nora ns to the
kind of plant the Jobson household in
Washington was; how much washing
there was to be done: the arrange
ments as to the servant’s day off; the
hours at which the meals were ex
pected to he ready; the rules and reg
ulations with respect to the serv
ant’s reception of company, and so
on. Mrs. Jobson stood the ordeal of
interrogation with her customary
fortitude, and when Nora demanded
monthly wages about one-half in ex
cess of the usual Washington settle for
maids-of-all-'vork, Mrs. Jobson ac
ceded to the terms.
Twenty-four hours later Nora was
in command of the Jobson house
hold. Upon her arrival site had
rather elevated her already sonm
what retrousse nose at the size of
the Jobson establishfent, but with a
few remarks of deprecatoin, ad
dressed to neither of the Jobsons in
particular, she went to work to see
what could be made of the outfit.
The- first meal she prepared was
breakfast, and she fried the steak
instead of broiling it—a fact which
Mr. Johson’s teeth instantly made
him aware of. although lie waved it
aside lightly.
“She’ll be all right ns a cook when
she gets her hand in a bit.” said he,
masticating the leathery steak. Mrs.
Jobson saiil nothing.
Dinner was about half an hour late
when Mr. Jobson got home from the
office that evening, and the dough
of the chicken pot pie prepared by the
jewel Nora was of about the consist
ency of a bowling ball
A couple of days later Mr. Jobson
happened to overhear Nora give Mrs.
Jobson a somewhat sharp reply when
the mistress of the household in
structed her with reference to the
proper way to bent the rugs, and he
told Mrs. Jobson t lint, in his opinion,
the servant perhaps had an unsub
dued nature that might require hand
ling, and that he trusted Mrs. Job
son would employ mild methods with
her. instead of austerity of manner.
On Tuesday evening last the Job-
S :j X
ifv M '■" \ i
tv- pi y ir
I ' l li
/fliM
/ I l!K|( -I
• . !
N’OU.VH 11 AI It WAS I 'OWN AND lIEI'.
KVKS WKItK (iI.AZKD
soi - took a ride down the river after
i -per They rot bark about in Ihe ;
e hborhoo.i of ten o’clock. The
.-hi in tin basement dining-room at
t : acted i hem. and lln y i it i i--d Ihe !
ho.isi t hat wav.
Neni, under the during llrlit of the l
liiiai gas jets. \v a sealed at the
11 room table. In Iron I of her j
. ball tilled l : ii-k j • b trlc
e i|i klbel ot Ihe Job-til. ‘ - I'l'ui'en
.11 it; squeezed ie mull-, a pi t ebe r of
ei v, ater. a ha If eon-n nn and ran ot
a dim sand a loaf of Vi.-m a bread,
ft -111 which most of tin mi l had
1i ■ n torn. Nora's hair wa ■ down, t
all In reye-Wi re u I:tz and.
Nora's terms of reproach were not I
vi-itid upon the head of Mr . Job-on.
Si mi'd Ii In quite eonvim ad of
llf 1 that Ml-, Job-on w a a per- ’
ft I little hilly, anil a wholt lot lon
good for Mi Jobson. with reference
to whom Nora exhausted the whole
vocabulary of vituperation and scorn, j
She adverted critically to Mr. Job
son from every possible point of view
phy-ieal, mental, financial; and
when she finally seized a rolling-pin
and defied Mr. Jobson and the whole
uiiiver.-e combined to lava linger on
her. Mr. Jobson felt that he'd got it
coming and going, both ends from
the middle.
Mr- Jobson got Nora on the New
York train vvhillii i she was Mending
her to her relatives, with a month's
wage- and a ticket, on the following
morning. When Mrs, Jobson returned
to the Jobson household after per
forming this tllitv site found Mr. Job
son standing very sob mniy in the
front room.
“Well, you have disposed of your
protege I presume?" Mr, Jobson saiil
to Mrs, Jobson, "You have at length
got rid of that awful incubus that I
permitted you to fasten upon my
home, in conformity with my custom
iir\ indulgence of you in all of your
fads and caprices?”
Josephine i- now the Jobsons' maid
of-all-work again, ami every lime she
serve- a part ieiilarlv good meal Mr.
Jobson say* something to Mrs. Job
son a bout the difference between the
eatables and those prepared by Mrs,
Jobson's “seashore protege.” Wash
ington Star
How Merfi-110 Cut Kvrn.
Irate father I found tin be -1 coat
hanging on the fence, with the tail lorn
all to pieces.
Daughter (quietly)- You shouldn't
hiive left it in the hall.
"Why shouldn't I?”
‘‘.Most likely Mr. Nieefello put it on
over his other la-l night. It was a lit
tle cool, anti it I presume you for
got to tie up the dog. N. Y. \ eekly.
S limit In u lt> \ii I lior 11 >.
Alien What hails you to think
Kt bid's second hii-band i- an improve
ment on her first?
t i race She t old n•• herself she might
have tijwe worse.—Town Topic*.
♦ +++ ♦♦ ♦ ♦•♦♦♦♦
t Life and Adventures 0 f t
I a Western “Bad Man” I
HISTOKIANS have traced the origin
and gem -of the desperado of
tue American oorder as a type, novel
ists and story writers have exploited
him in Action, newspaper writers have
ehronielrd with more or less accuracy I
his bloody and extraordinary deeds,
exaggerating Ids achievements, gio: i
fying Ids im anne-s and palliating- hi- j
crimes. And yet the truth a hunt hi m.
framed as it i- vxith tin real growth
and civilization of the western and
sou i li western state- ami territories, is
so much a part of the present-day af
fairs, so near to the am tils of every
state, county and town wist of tin
Mississippi river, that its telling need*
no false coloring, no dev la t ion from the
truth, no straining after heroics, to
make it one of the most fa-f 'nating a>
wed a- instructive ehapieis in the his
tory of tile southwest and vv-.-t.
The rial "had man" of the west ha
no place in criminal annals, lie and
the law si idnin came together, lb w a
not a train robber, a highway in. ii -
il professional lli'ef. T.. his eolitempo
raries he was be-; known as a good
man with a gna. \ way- he vv -a
gambler, somethin's a drunkard, ad ii
i very ca - 1- he di see tided to the -t re i
nous outlawry of eat lb rn-iiing
fighting was both a pa-time and' r
passion with him. and ne a-k- no bet
ter sport, no more wcleomt nndcpt.ak
ii g. than the ehane-' to get into a get
light with sonic red ii nb; able fn a; ii
man of hi- own strip,e vvin-e it pula
lion with pi-ti.d or rib n ade him n
rival and avv oft by ant a ■■ must.
This being both th in 'm -and tin
ph a-II re o f his II'II a v e I! i "e *fi . * I
i- nut -1 rang, that !, b ia fa ■ r
to tilid at i>lSt a I;et I■■r u e : aid pa i
w •) Id 1 ife Ihe pci ■ f hi* rinds
J hii W. < y I!a idii , w 1 • • .■h ..
thi hare- oC (b I ' a oil Job I. ,i
of I ? i’nso. is yl l within memory 1
i vv •pa per i a ader-. a lib .id- a -lid ; ■
type of lie- bold r bad n iti both In t b
f' ii v of Id- lito aid in the n iii< i o'
h and ath. If w Mu oi ,I' , It ■
ti-' preacher, but in sp’tc of hi- koim
in! van i.; g i I. g •vv n p -I a ;. i: i. •- ri ■! v
sir ft id- -and sku'-kio r a i , r of tb.
II m ;: y he! ore h. vv i.l vi ar- o’d
lie wa- ihi 1 1 I) I In ir 1 1.'. t. vv nf f
( oil a; ebe. Tt x.. am I . ■ n Id w Vea
in r 11, li'iv 1-' M II- 1" y I • - '' v • b
leg : o and. ath the on y' tvv > hoi . - Id
lath r had.
1 1 1 n T ii 1 In go to hoi', was
Cos Mil eb at ii • at ea o'- n ei In vv a-
U. years <. . I and in tm -a ae y ir put
out tln <y. . fa neighbor’- son ii a
*)'• • < r lil'it ~ h i
II;. a ,! - ;i t , , .d-d. and i- ;
a t ■ .and i ■ m in ( , .mi- v t bat
he > iif a 1 rot mi lx aid over tlu
w iel dm sof hi- favorite son. In
Is;?, lit ii :.'t y ars .v. J. hi) W 1 ■ 'ey
or ‘'IN.-." Hardin i tablishcd him-elt
on a art of Ids f■; tl,. c's fa nn and i .
p.m to a- • n Id. about b - eab i, a com
yjv.
ol'('
; ; ■ ■
(i. M !.■’’
t t / *4- .
X X. / t •? '-'il.
r i '‘f~\
i 'fOm A ,m ,
“I GI’MSS YOU WONT HKItVK IT
pany of the vvihb t young men in thi
county. None of them had means, and
none of tin in -e. nieil to work, and yet
after a few months of midnight ride
, into Adjoining counties tin ir <■ nn -
were crowded with eatt e anil tin
townsfolk of ( oinanehe began to fear
and suspect Hardin and hi- gang. Noi
satisfied' vvdh ranch soli'iuTe and led
by Wes Hardin the and. -pn mini's soot
began to make midnight raids upon
the town. It hecame their practice to
gallop into Main street every night at
eight o’clock, “shoot tip” the stores,
carry off what they wanted in tin
shape of liquor anil siippi-ies and tei
rifv into silence protest ing storekeep
ei s. 1 1 is current history in Comanche
to this day that We- Hardin and his
men held the town almost in bondage
during the greater part of the vein
Js7:t.
Many farmers who had suffered
at the hands of the rustlers then
began to assemble in Uoinaiehe foi
tlie purpose of "investigating” Har
din, lay out. Whether this visitation
had any thillg to do with his depa it u re.
or whether store looting nnd raireh
life became 100 dull is not known, but
in \iigust, I*7ll. he left home and ideu
titiid himself with the ( omanehe eou n
ty gang of lay in is, I lien engaged in a
fend war of four years’standing with
the -oils and friends of a man named
Sutton, who was killed by one of the
Taylor fam'dy in De Witt county, in
Isi.s, Hardin had no personal interest
in the feud, lint he was chosen leader
of the t'oimiiu'he Taylors aid during
the - hurt period of his leadership got
"credit" for slaying three of the Sut
ton faction,
Kcbrimry 1.1, I*7 t, HariTtin reappeared
smlilei ly iii t oma-iiehc with a crowd of
liis follower* who immediately cap
tured the principal -aloon of the town,
barrel! the froi t door and proceeded to
carouse after the manner of their ciusa
Sm.f ! if tha ' afternoon Deputy Sher
iff Char ivy Webb, of Mrnnn county, ar
rived in Comanche with a warrant foor
>ne of Hard n'- ”jittj_ r who was accused
of sten 'i. fcr cattle. He ;t>on learned
that the dt-perado and b! t fellow*
were embattVd in the saloon, but,
not hi tug dteunted. tied bis horse andten
tered tin back and or. which was open.
Hardit knew liim aid the moment he
put hi- face in tin doorway shouted:
“Hello, \\. bid What do you want
here?”
“I’ve a warrant for dal Shelby,” the
as ] and the
diwu i •ha ! out of his pocket. Hut
Ihirr i 'lm; him through tlie heart,
ad( :g: “I you won’t serve itl”
In Hu party with UV> Hardin when
W idi wis >]if)t \va< Joe Hardin, a
younger brothero-f Wes, then posing as
a lawyer. but following closely in the
footsteps of his lawless brother, and
with i growing re-put ad ion in Co
mrtnche as a desperado and' a crook.
. New -of the shooting of Webb spread
quick v n). r the town, and before dark
tin -a mm w i- surrounded by a posse
of \ iint< ■ r-. The enraged citizen*
atom; and the locked barroom about
dusk a nil capt nreri' four of the inmates,
Including Joe Hardin. Wes escaped in
the confusion and rode to temporary
liberty on the horse of the man he
hail killed. The posse, determined to
make an example of somebody,
hanged .1 -■ to the nearest tree and
gave his companions hours to leave
the county When the coroner exam
ined tin- effects of the dead young
desperado lie found the seals of 13
counties which had been profitably
used for months by the quondam law
yer in tin- process of making out bo
gus 1) s nf -ale for cattle stolen by
of Ills brother’s gang.
Wes 11 ,i i-ili ll then lb A toward Flor
ida. In tin suburbs of (lainesville he
was mi - inkeii by two negroes, Juke
Men/el and Hubert Uornp, both of
whom 1 id worked for Hardin’s fa
ther Impelled by desire to obtain
tin ii reward offered for Hardin’s
eapt tire, tln y attempted to arrest him
tis he was bating his lodging place
early in the morning. They ap
pmael and I im with leveled pistols. He
had his thumbs in the waistband of
his trousers and assured them he was
unarmed. \s they attempted to seize
him he whipped two pistols from un
di r his \i.s| and killed one of them.
I’he other was blinded and fied for
Ms lit Hardin was caught at
-href pert a few lays later, returned
to (oinaiu-he .and sentenced to 25
years’ i uq. ri - onment for the killing
of I hai i-y Webb. He was set at lib
*
rule In Ii ! ’ ft fin pi*iifentiary
with the reputation of having per
fected leu. .i If in the study of law dur
ing the If years of bis incarceration,
I m media i ely after regaining his lib
ert \ he e ieeheil his reputation for
icing (In “ii,• am -I bail man on the
■ rib r" by belling five dollars that
a- could til the ilrst shot knock an
uniieent Mexican nff a soap box
where he sat siilining himself. He
wen the In I and left the dead Mexi
' i- lit
he ■ pi .ml of t'< mi annrss Is
prove.l by a- lory which he boastful
1\ told uf an ad.enture in Nogales.
11. -aid that in a hotel there he was
.id ' aln avy in the next
Without niakii. an i tVort to
■ i ;o n the slei ).. r, he pul his ear to
In thill bo- nl pa rt i I ion t• 11 he got
he i xa." | : I ii.i. of Ids snoring
• .r's In ad. I ben he fired one
■ a ilia-r an. let llil'OUgh the wall.
:In - ii stopped. Tl . eorp.se was
'null tin in xt morning shut through
he lira i but ll ■ Had man was per
";; 1 1 and In ride a way.
WI al *• vi■ v In may have known of
the theory if law. his grotesque idea
if its praiu lee was manifest when
he I nut fur 111 I'm-ii wearing four
ix shinii.l iiid carrying a W inchea
ti-r r ile.
I ..r 11 a 4. than six montli lie ter
rori/ed 111 I ‘a so There was only one
man there who dared cross Ida path
.1 all limes and under all conditions.
Ihat m,an was John Sellman, a bad
man too. lint of a different mold
from Wes Hardin. \ftir a bloody
i are.-i as a soldier, cowboy and border
deputy, and with a record of what he
called “23 justifiable killings,” Sell
man had settled down Into the almost
placid occupation of patrolling the
streets .< f HI Paso. It was placid
enough till Hardin came, but a month
later every man there knew that one
or the oth. r had 1-111111' at la-t into the
presence of sure delith.
i crisis euine \ugust 19, m9j.
iild John Selim.in’s son, who was a
policeman, had arrested Hardin’s
friend, and Hardin at uuee announced
that lie would exlermiiial e the whole
Sellman family, beginning with the
father To this end the offended des
perado tinned himself with pistols
and a quantity of whisky, and went
looking for old man Sellman. The
latter, who slated at his trial after
ward that lie knew it was only a
question of time when he must kill
Hardin, traced h m *o the Feho sa
loon With tin (.ii iar and almost
anomalous sense of fairness which
cliaraeteri/ed many of liis class. Sell
man tlien sent word to Hardin that
if lie would come out of the saloon
he, Sellman, would give him a “fair
I'iianee to exterminate or be exter
minated.” Those were the very words
of Sellman as reported at the trial.
\ftei wailing an hour for a reply
'sellman entered the barroom. Hardin
saw Ids reflect ion in file glass and
had liis pistol out in a second. But
Sellman was sober. His first shot
oiereed Hardin’s head from hatband
io hatband and even when his victim
fell Sellman continued to tire till he
had placed five shots in vital parts of
Ms enemy.
‘ Hood gun fighters like Wes Hardin
sometimes shoot after they’re hit,”
explained Sellman in telling why he
fired so many “fatal" shots.—Chicago
i Daily Kecorvl.