The Leon reporter., December 28, 1899, Image 4

About The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930

Image provided by: State Historical Society of Iowa

                
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8
THE NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS
Make 'em, make 'em even though you
break 'em!
Good resolves are comforters, aye,
even for a day
Strive a little longer, it will make you
stronger
And perfection never yet was found
In human clay.
Make a firm resistance, pray to have
assistance
Give the demon that you dread a
tussle—and you can!
Push the foe behind you do not let
him bind you
And begin the new year, better wom
an, better man!
A NEW YEAR'S STORY.
By S. B. McManus.
I I want to tell you this New Year's
inight, what happened jist a year ago
!ln Hank Harmon's blacksmith shop.
I'Tain't
much to tell, nor over much for
{an outsider to barken to, but it means
la mighty sight to me and the boys,
jan' I, for one, jist like to think of it
Ian' talk it over and kind of hug and
embrace the words, expressin' it as it
fe 1 PUT THE HOSS BLANKET UP.
Pljwere, and hold the sentences like a
litter sweet morsel under my tongue.
.My strength don't in any wise lay in
fc,frelatin' things and incidents, and it
will be a good precaution, when I warn
it.' Syou
not to
break in into me and ac-
cordingly interrupt me, for it will take
fine-haired and top sawyer work to
make my story look as if it had any
sense or meanin', at all, except to me
and the boys as understand it com
plete.
Jist a year ago toniglit we met in
'Hank Harmon's blacksmith shop to
celebrate the day by gettin' so para
lyzln drunk, that we could disremem
M-^'ber the miserable homes we had
gf'J'* sneaked away frum and the heart
ffT broken and down-lookin' wives and
Sichildren we had left in them. We hung
3F*a hoss blanket over the biggest cracks
•"•'-In the sides after Hank had fastened
.the door, and then we was in shapeful
f1' condition to guzzle and pour down
our red-hot, thirsty throats, jist as
K, much of Joe Howard's red-hot, pizen
W 'hot whisky as we could manage to get
jwith our tremblin' hands, to our weak,
waterin'. disgraced mouths. After this,
-we know what would most likely hap
pen, judgin' of course by what had
happened before—we would fall over
.amongst the cinders and hoss hoof
jealins and old wagon tires and drag
teeth and scrap iron, where we would
sleep like hogs—hogs as had lost their
self-respect—until the cold and the
mncomfortableness would wake and
*, sober us enough to crawl home to our
wretched houses, which we would
make wretcheder and miserabler by
our comin'.
We talked of this tonight, and we all
il, 'remembered everything that was done
—'and said, as if it was writ on the black
walls of the shop with white heat run-
Din' iron from the forge, and we all
agreed too, never to try to disremem
jber that night—the night when God or
«. Jsome of his shinin', holy angels come
down to us and shamed us into bein'
4ecent, sober, Chrlst-lovin" men.
"There is recollections," Jim Cam
eron said, "that allers. ought to be
^recollected and kept like a blazio' torch
4
W
^kim-
1
in front of us. Some of them fer
safety sake and some fer shame sake,"
and Jim furthermore said we ought to
wear the memory of them disgraced
and wicked days about us as an an
cient sailor or some old salt, wore a
dead goose about his neck as a keep-,
sake that he had been low down and
sinful.
But drunkards as we all certainly
was, and what is more, vergln' clost
onto bein' bar-fer-keeps, old drunk
ards ks was no likely salvation for, we
wa'n't any of us so very happy and
comfortable and easy into our minds, at
the beginnin* of that night a year ago
in Hank Harmon's blacksmith shop
in the alley, jist off the Rudy—some
thing, bullygard in the city of Sardin
apolis, where we boys lived. We put
the hoss blanket over the gaplnest
cracks to keep the wind frum flarin'
out the smutty lamp that stood smokin'
and wobbly on an old table where
Hank writ his accounts, amongst a lot
of nails and bolts and rivets and small
gearin', with a jug of Joe Howard's
cheapest, hellishest whisky in the mid
dle as a kind of devil center piece. O,
can't I, and can't all of us cronies jist
remember exactly, how that jlggly,
trembly, dirty old table looked and I
am bound that it had the delirium
tremens, if anything in the world bar
rin' a man can have them. I can smell
the oil that Hank spilled when he
filled the lamp with his nervous,
shaky hands and it run along amongst
the old iron and under Hank's day
book and dropped over the edge onto
the floor and went down a crack. And
there was the white jug with the blue
letterin': "1 gal.," with a sheaf of blue
wheat below to make it look tasty and
sell.
And this was our New Year's table!
Four men—made in the image of God!
And men for their folks and neigh
bors to be proud of—except they was
drunkards. There was Jim Cameron,
one me, two Jim Green, three,—
whose father had been a preacher—
and Hank Harmon, as owned the shop.
As I said we wa'n't over happy and
comfortable that night, considerin' we
had such a reckless layout and an
early start. I have frequent noticed,
that you can't always kick conscience
under the table or settee as you can
an unruly dog that whines and barks
when he has no call to. And some
how conscience has a habit of gettin'
around and in the way on such doin'
days as New Year's, Christmas and the
like. And four consciences as hadn't
had their just deservin's nor innings
for many a month, slipped their halters
that night a year ago and managed to
make things unpleasant for their own
ers. I suspect the troubled waters
mentioned in the scriptures means
somethin' iike this. But any way we
was troubled onaccountably.
Not so onaccountably either, for we
wasn't so old and hardened and crusted
in sin and drinkin', but what we all
could think when we give ourselves a
chance, which we made sure not to do
over frequent, because it was not
agreeable.
One thing that made us feel a trifle
down and dismal was that the keeper
of the Happy Home saloon, Joe How
aid, had jist moved a day or so back,
out of his old house down by the gas
works and the tannery, into his hand
some new residence frontin' the park
and the library bunain*. It was the
prettiest, tastiest, imposin'ist house in
the Circle and he had made every dol
lar of it out of such fellows as me and
the rest of us.
And then Jim Cameron had moved
that very day—New Year's day—from
the home his father had given him
and every brick and board in it was
like a livin', lovin' thing to Jim—had
moved into a little old untidy frowsy
house with a bowed in roof and anglin'
shutters, in a part of the town where
self-respectin' folks didn't generally
try to get. And Jim knew, and we all
knew that he and the rest of us and a
lot more had built Joe's house in the
park, and that every nail in it if it
was counted a dozen times, wouldn't
count up as many ner a tenth as many
as the tears shed fer its puttin' up!
We callated that one of us had hand
ed enough hard earned money over (lis
counter to pay for the grand stairway^
every inch of which was the premium
work of an artist and a man as made
grand stairways for a livin' and never
botched, and I reckoned, jist makin' a
rough, unfigurin' estimate, that I had
traded enough with Joe one time and
another to as much, or may be more,
than pay for the plate glass windows,
not mentlonin' the stained ones, that
looked like flower beds set into his
walls, with wreaths and roses and
young children and blue sky and grass
and things. And there was my wife
and youngsters at home—if such a
place as we had finally got to could be
called a home—with the windows filled
with old quilts and cushions and not
enough in the cupboard to eat to much
more than prevent them from goin' to
bed hungry. And this was New Year's
night! It wasn't a cheerful, glowiq'
outlook, no odds how perseverin' one
tried to be chirk gleeful over it.
Hank Harmon remarked as he took
his place at the table, with his back
agin the door to prevent anyone from
droppin' in onexpected, that likewise,
makin' a rough, uneducated callation,
he hed helped Joe Howard in the build
in' of his mansion, as the newspaper
called Joe's house—quite a consider
able, even to the pinchin' of his fam
ily for provisions and clothin'. Hank
callated he had done as much toward
the house, as the puttin' in of the
plumbing plpin' chandeliers, with
the furnace throwed in for fair meas
ure and good feelin'. And speakin' of
the furnace. Hank happened to recol
kct that there wasn't a stick of wood
or a pound of coal in his house, and
his wife was sick and his children not
sweatin' with bein' overclothed or
overfed. And reminescening along
this line, we naturally got dismal and
down-hearted and some of us—it was
me—for I needn't pretend to confuse
or forget anything that happened that
night—moved that we unanimously
take a drink and I accordin' pulled the
cork from the white stone jug, with
the blue letterin' and wheat sheaf.
But J[im Cameron nor Hank nor Jim
Green held up their cups, but I filled
mine in a manly, don't-care way and
set close to the edge of the table by
me.
Jist then, Jim Green began to cry.
And it wasn't a drunk, maudlin*
swashy cry that makes one tired, but
a great, man, heart-breakin'—heart
full cry, not loud nor noisy, but low
and heavy with bitterness and re
morse and the useless wishin's that
you hadn't done some things. And
while Jim cried we all looked away
and kinder above each others heads
and I sneaked my cup of whisky from
the table and emptied it without mak-
JIM BEGAN TO CRY.
in' any splashin' in the pail where
Hank tempers his hoss shoes. After
a spell, Jim got where he could speak,
and we was all willln' he should have
the floor. He said he didn't know how
many houses he had helped to build,
but expected he had done his share,
but he did know, with a sad certainty
of one heart he had broken by his
wayward wicked ways. Jim didn't
say whose heart it was. but we all
knew it was his mother's. And she
had died alone and neglected jist a
year ago. So many things happen Just
a year ago! Then Jim begun again
(he could talk
like his
father I
sus­
pect) and said that while be knew he
THE LEON REPOKTER, THUK8DAY, DECEMBER 28, 1880.
had killed the one who loved him best
and the one that he loved best in the
world, killed her with cruel shame and
sorrow—with God's help he was re
solved to make her glad in heaven to
night, that he would never touch an
other drop of liquor as long as he
lived.
There was stillness for a time and
the edges of the bid blanket flapped
like big, ragged evil wings and the
uncorked jug sent out a sipell that put
one in mind of venomous snakes and
close by danger, while the smutty,
creacked lamp flared up and then al
most went out as if even that little
puny, crippled light was ashamed of
its company. Pretty soon, Jim Cam
eron pulled his legs out from under
the trembling table, and straightening
himself up as best he could, bein' so
tall and standin' as he did right under
the eaves of Hank's shop—said, "Boys,
I have a notion.that amounts to dead
certainty, that my wife and I will
move back to our old home before long.
We are both homesick for the grass
and gel-aniums and big trees in the
front yard, and the stone dog on the
door step, and the little room where
our babies died. I think we shall go
back pretty soon, because you see with
God's help and God for a witness and
Hank Harmon and my neighbor, Wil
liam Wren, for witnesses, I now sol
emnly promise—with my dead chil
dren to hear, too—that I, like our
friend who has jist left us, will never
touch another drop of intoxicating
liquor so long as I live." And he
picked up his hat and went away.
And me and Hank was left alone.
But Cameron hadn't much more than
shut the door, when Hank, as owned
the shop, kicked the box out from
under him and come nigh to upsettin'
.the infirm old tabic and while he put
on his ragged overcoat, kind of care
less remarked—only anyone that
knowed Hank would have known that
he was in solemn, awful earnest—that
it didn't look neighborly nor civil to
leave company like this, but he
guessed—no, I'll be damned if I
guess—(Hank wasn't a swearin' man,
never) he said, I know I must do as
Jim Green and Jim Cameron have
done, and with God to help me and
God and you, William Wren, to be my
witnesses, I, Henry Harmon, will never
drink another drop of intoxicating
liquor so long as I live. And the rick
ety old door dragged back to its place
and he was gone, and I alone.
There was but one decent, manly
thing left for me to do, and by this
time It was the only thing I wanted
to do and standing up with only God
for witness—and He was enough—I
promised as the other boys had prom
ised, and then, with a thread of a
prayer that would tangle itself with my
other thoughts, I took the jug and
smashed it upon the anvil.
While it come to us unexpected that
we should begin a new and decent life
—jist like a message from God, almost,
it was put upon us to help ourselves,
jist all that was possible. God stood
MAPPW
THERE WAS NEW YEAR'S DIN
NERS TODAY.
clost by us, though, and was always in
reach when we most needed Him. It
was a hard won victory, but we won it.
"In conclusion/' a3 they say in story
books, it is only fair to mention that
Jim Cameron and his wife have pos
session once more of their stone dog
and geraniums, and Jim Green lives
with them, and there is another baby
in the house whose name is James G.
Cameron. There are no blankets in
the windows of my home today, and
Hank Harmon is as happy and pros
perous as a decent, hard-workin' God
fearin' man can well be, and in every
one of our homes there was New Year's
dinners today, that makes my mouth
water to even think of now.
A NEW YEAR'S CALLER.
A year ago, around last New Year's.
I was called upon by a gorgeous young
creature—a saving beauty—who bore
a letter of introduction from a mutual
friend in St. Louis.
The substance of it was:
"The girl is stagestruck. Can you
do anything for her?"
She was the most artificial thing I
had ever seen. I doubted whether she
could sneeze naturally.
"Have you had any stage experi
ence?"
"Only with amateurs."
"Ah! Have you any money?"
She looked *t me much as a well
posted countryman would gaze at a
"bunco steerer."
"My dear girl, I don't want your
money, but it might be to your advan
tage to take a course in some good
training school, and that requires
cash."
Her nose went up.'
"Oh, I don't -wish anything like
thait," she said disdainfully. "I want
an engagement where I can get a sal
ary."
"Well, you might possibly begin by
playing very small parts," I replied.
"Mr. Daly generally has a corps of
fifteen or twenty young girls connected
with his theater who are occasionally
selected."
"No, no!" she.interrupted, "I must
do better than that. Will you hear me
recite a speech from 'Parthenla?'"
This was pretty hard, but I was pre
pared to go some lengths "in friend
ship's name," as the gentleman sings
in "Iolanthe.",
"Go ahead," I said hoarsely..:.
She went ahead.
It was pretty bad.
"My dear," I said, "there Is no call
for Parthenias unless they/ have cash
calore, and even than the)'call' conges
principally from the manager, who
wants his rent guaranteed, ^and. the
actors, who need their salaries. We
are also overstocked with Juliets and
fairly reek with Rosalinds."
She rose impatiently.
"Then you don't give me any en
couragement?" Jir
"Not in that line no/'
"You don't think I spoke well?"
"Let us talk of something else."
"No. I should like an answer
please."
"Well, then, if you must Insist,
I
didn't care tor you in the speech."
She walked out, trembling with in
dignation.
Yesterday I met her.
Beautiful still, but with" a look ot
hard experience in her eyes and her
dress quite shabby.
My heart warmed toward her, and I
seized her poorly gloved hand with
fervor.
"I am sorry you were offended with
me," 1 murmured.
She heaved a sigh.
"You were quite right," she said,
"and I wish that I had known it then."
"You have been on the stage?"
"Been on the stage?" she echoed,
BEEN DOING SMALL PARTS.
with a bitter smile. "Why, I've hardly
been off it for the last four months."
"Well?"
"Well. I've been doing small parts
in a 'twice a day performance' com
pany, and I'm half dead. We even
played on Sunday, and the mornings
were given up to rehearsals. I tried
important parts just twice—when the
leading woman was ill—and made a
botch of them both! And one was our
old friend Parthenla." She laughed
cynically.
"But your experience will count in
the end," I ventured.
"No, it won't," she retorted. "I'm
one of the actresses who 'don't offend.'
I haven't any talent, and fourteen per
formances a week is a little too much!
I'm going back to St Louis to get
married."
"Very sensible."
And she sped away and was lost in
the crowd of Thespians that decorate
Broadway and Fortieth street.
THE CHRISTMAS ROSE.
'Twas Madelon, the little maid,
Alone upon the wintry hill
The stars were bright, the wind was
still.
Grief at her heart, she wept and
prayed.
The shepherds passed her on their
way
The magi, by the omen led,
She saw their gifts, heard what they
said
But she must wait, and weep and pray.
The wbile she grieved a shape drew
near,
And stood in glory at her side—
The "warrior angel," wise and tried,
Gabriel, in heaven without a peer.
Sweetly he spoke and very low,
He laid his hand upon her head.
'I have no gift to give," she said,
'And cannot with the shepherds go.
Tis winter, and the cold wind blows,
And summer is far away
And if she heard me weep and pray,
She could not come, and bring the
rose."
A burst of glory burned around,
Flashed up and down the barren hill
'Run, Madelon, pluck where you will
Along the warm and blossomy
ground!"
Flying along the flowery sward,
She plucked a flower (the summer goes.
But still it stays), the Christmas rose,
A gift-for Him, the infant Lord.
—John Vance Cheney.
Resolve upon this New Year's day
To "stop it," whatsoe'er It be!
Perhaps you like "the cup that cheers,"
Perhaps you gamble recklessly
Perchance you're libellous in tone
Perhaps you're prone to sigh and
groan
Perhaps you're temper's very bad
You talk enough to drive'folks mad
You think that no one else is right
You flirt with everything in sight
You have an overbearing way,
Or tell your "symptoms" night and
day
Perhaps you dye the hair that's gray
Perhaps your debts you do not pay
Perhaps—oh, well, whate'er it be.
If with'your world it don't agree,?
And brings you care or misery,
Strike now the blow that sets you free!
—Polly Pry.
The Traveler's Tale. •'J'-'C'
"Smoking in Holland," said a travel
er, "is so common that it is impossible
to tell one person from another, in a
room of smokers." "How is any .one
who happens to be wanted picked
out, then?" asked a listener. "Oh, a
waiter goes round with a pair of bel
lows and blows the smoke from before
each face till he recognizes the person
called for."—Swinton Advertiser.
Red Cross Hospital In China.
Something entirely new in China is
that the red cross floats over a fully
equipped hospital, where from fifty to
one hundred or more patients are
treated daily. The hospital is in charge
of four native physicians,
FOE WOMEN AND HOME
ITEMS OF INTEREST FOR MAIDS
AND MATRONS.
'ha Dining Boom Arrangement and
Adornment of ThU Delight of Worn
•nklad—Jaontjr Coat—truncheon Gown
—Scarf• and Coverlets. a-
We Walk Anort.'
We walk apart! About me glows"
The sunset Bky of liquid rose,
For you the dawn ot coming day
Is glld:ng all the eastern way.
We walk apart! The shadows grow
Before them fades my sunset glow,
For you a sky of morning light
Beams fair and glad with sunshine
bright.
We walk apart! As come the stars
From out the night-sky's fleecy bars.
The darkness falls—yet show the
gleams
Of all my happy old day dreams.
We walk apart we walk apart!
The words keep sighing In my lioart.
Through all the years that loom before
Apart we walk for evermore,
—Mary Devereaux In the Boston Tran
script.
Scarfs and Coverlets.
Some new fancies in toilet scarfs and
pin cushions seen lately were a de
light to the eye. The- prettiest one
was of bolting cloth, in each corner of
which was a beautiful conventionalized
design appllqued in green satin. Grace
ful sprays of wild roses formed the
border, the lovely pink blossoms run
ning over on the green satin. The pin
cushion matched the scarf and both
were lined with white satin. Another
set, not quite so dainty, but far more
practical, was of white linen, with the
corners appliqued in pink linen and an
embroidered border of charming de
sign. Nothing in the way of table
spreads is half so pretty as the fas
cinating Bulgarian productions. The
odd neutral colors—drabs, browns, dull
yellow, reds and blues, with here and
there a dash of black—are combined in
such a way in the striking Russian
designs as to give the most pleasing
and artistic effect. The work is sim
ple, and one can buy a stamped spread,
with one corner entirely worked, show
ing the stitch and arrangement of col
ors, for $4 and upwards. New coverlets
for beds are made of Indian silk, wad
ded with lamb'B wool and finished with
a border of lace a quarter of a yard or
more deep.
A Girl's Reading*
The wise mother will be careful that
her daughter's reading is such as will
not give her false views of life or
foster any unnatural sentiment or
emotion. The moral effect of so much
LUNCHEON GOWN
Df mauve velvet, trimmed with deeper mauve velvet and ecru lace.
sensational reading is frequently some
thing to be grievously deplored, and as
to the influence upon the intellect,
many persons attribute their loss of
memory to this alone. It seems almost
unnecessary to state that one who is
a habitual and confirmed novel reader
will soon cease to possess a trained or
cultured mind, no matter how gifted
an intellect was given him to begin
with. To the brain thoroughly besot
ted with sentimental fiction study,
deep reading and' deep thinking will
soon become impossibilities, and few
habits are more conducive to selfish
ness, irritability and lack of punctuali
ty, any of which traits will seriously
mar the happiness of domestic life.—
Trained Motherhood. *".
The Dining Room.
Women who are the delighted' pos
sessors of large, low-ceilinged dining
rooms, old oak furniture and precious
china are the "envy of their less fortu
nate Bisters. A parlor never appeals
to a woman as a dining-room does.
She is always concocting some scheme
by which her dining-room can be made
more homelike. As the dining-room
is frequently the living room also, it
should receive all possible care. If it
is fairly large, has hardwood floor and
a deep window or two, it may be made
a thing of beauty. The
fioorB
different style. In the windows hav
a few growing plants. Let these
Tivid greens and reds. They add av
to the cheerfulness of a room -vJf
two carefully chosen .£ «,»
hang on the walls. Their
to be a nerve-racking operauV^*
less the housewife has
her good taste copies of fruitpictures),v^Iaconfidence
game and fish are permitted, and an
old family portrait in oils. If one is in
doubt about pictures, the walls may he:
covered with delft and spode ware, or
even less pretentious china, strung on
wires and arranged in rows on hang
ing shelves. The sideboard la spread
with fringed damask doilies, and set
with the treasured silverware and cut*
glass. In the china closet—one with
swinging doors and dark velvet linings
—is displayed the choice china. The
contents must be arranged with care.
Do not place together the heavier and.:
daintier ware, but grade them gently,,
so as to give the best effects. Between
meals the table should be spread with
a blue and white denim cover, set with.
the fern dish. This adds a homelike
touch to the room and destroys the
formality which a set table gives.
Gaunty Coat.
In Persian lamb, with trimmings Ot
ermine. The quaint hat is of black vel
vet, faced with tucked white chiffon
and trimmed with large black and.
white feathers, fastened by two steel
buckles.
Homo PoUnnlntj,
It Is very desirable that the condi
tions under which food may become^
poisonous should receive more prac-'
tical consideration than they do. A.
well-known physician has called atten
tion to some glaring defects in the lo
cation of food storerooms, which are
worthy of attention. In house con
struction the position of the pantry Is
too often treated as of minor Impor
tance. In some houses the
der the stairs or some equally unsuit
able and inadequately lighted and ven
tilated place Is thought good enough
for the purpose. In a great number
the pantry is a small offshoot from the
house, the ceiling, floor and walls often
being damp, owing to faulty construc
tion in some of these matters are
rendered worse by the water taps be
ing placed therein without any pro
vision being made for carrying away
the droppings from the taps or over
flow from vessels into which the water
is run. One of the most frequent en
tries in his inspection notebook Is
"defective yard' pavement," permit
ting soakage of filth into the soil
underneath. Not only is the soil thus
rendered a good breeding ground for
pathogenic microbes, it also supplies
those conditions requisite tor increased
®SP
should
be polished or waxed, preferably dark,
and strewn with a bright rug or two,
although' a lounge and chairs uphol
stered in blue and white cretonne are
desirable for comfort and cheer. The
lounge must be broad and low, with
several durable pillows. This will be
appreciated by the head of the house,
says the New Orleans Picayune. Wall
paper in delft blue is most effective, al
though the eolor scheme may call Cor a
Beet Salad*
Boll four medlum-ljized beets When
cold, cliop quit* fine, add half as much
chopped cabbage' as you have beets,
and horseradish to make it taste quite
hot pour a salad dressing over. No
rule can be given for the amount ot
horseradish, as it is .much stronger
sometimes than at others.
Cocoanut Or
earn*
A cocoanut cream to spread on thhr
layers of cake requires one cup'of milk,
one-half cup of grated cocoanut, one
cup of sugar, a small lump of butter.'
Boll all together when it comes to
boil put in one tablespoonful.of corn*
starch dissolved in a little milk let all
come to the boiling point when near*
ly cold beat in one egg. Spread
on the layer ot cake, and you have th
cocoanut cake which literally melt*
your month...
Mi,
Bpace
an-