Newport weekly independent., September 27, 1901, Image 5

About Newport weekly independent. (Newport, Ark.) 1901-1929

Image provided by: Arkansas State Archives

                
t
THE Ol[_D PLAYHOUSE.
When the golden sunshine sifted thro’
The leaves of the apple tree—
Where the happy birds flew in and out
To the nest we could almost see—
And the guarded old boughs drooped lov
ingly
To shut out a summer sky.
We built our playhouse in the grass—
A dear little girl anu I.
The little brown hands worked busily,
And our childish longues flew fast
As we planned and toiled for the tiny
home—
Ah, life, that such joys could last!
And never a day was long enough,
And we always wondered why
The shadows came so soon, so soon—
This dear little girl and I.
The apple-houghs bend, just a* of old,
Down over the warm, grassy floor,
And-the nesting birds fly in and out,
But the playhouse is no more.
I'd give the world, if the world were mine,
For one of those days gone by
When we built our playhouse on the grass—
A dear little girl and I.
—Florence A. Jones, i* Minneapolis House
keeper.
•o*o*c§o*G«o#oaoao«oto«o#o«oiloioioio»o»o*o#o#ca
A Chase for g
II Millions *:
|s _ So
So-SS
;• By GISELLE D'UNGER %
lo»o»o«o»o*g»o»g»ofo»o»g»o»ofo#o»o»o»g*o«c#o#o*cf?
£*o*c*Q*o*o«o«clo*G*Gao«o»o*c*G«o«o*oiGio*o*o£Gto«
THE editorial rooms of the Daily
Pencilings presented a scene of
activity. Men of brains and energy
contributed their best efforts to gain
the favor of the public, and were amp- '
ly rewarded by the encomiums passed
upon the broad—platform established
some 20 years. Vigorous and concise
were the summaries of volumes of sta
tistics, reducing them to a condensa
tion that practically benehted the
the reader.
Two young men were holding a con
versation in a remote corner where
the desks were not so thickly placed.
One was tall and of a serious manner,
while the other was a typical Bohe
mian, careless, happy-go-lucky, art
istic, clever and a dare devil as to ad
venture in assignments. He was dis
cussing the latest sensation, the re
ported engagement of a prominent so
cial woman to a titled grandee.
“Blake, all women are conquered by
the glitter or gold. It’s a case of ‘if
yo’ ain’t ernt no money, you needn't
come round.' Grace Ward knows
which side her bread’s buttered on,"
he remarked in a contemptuous tone.
“You are all wrong, Johnson," re
turned Blake, wincing under the oth
er's careless words. “Miss Ward was
not dazzled by the glitter of gold. Op
portunity is like a diamond in the
rough; it is spurned by man in its
crude state, hut covered when it illum
inates the jeweled gates of Happiness
and Content in the land of Successful
Attainment. Miss Ward appreciates
opportunity, and. furthermore, the no
bleman has intellectuality and man
hood to recommend him.”
“Where did Miss Ward live before
the Fairbanks took her up?” queried
Job n son.
“She camp from Kings Kettle, near
Ladybank, P'ifeshire, Scotland, when
quite young—but the time flies, John
son, and 1 must finish this,” was the
reply of Blake.
“All right, Ned. T must he going,
too. That last edition of yesterday
lacked a romance; 1 am going out to
find one—in the slums.”
Frank Johnson nodded to the older
man, buttoned his ulster against the
winter blasts and stepped off. whist
ling softly the latest popular air.
“One man hit in that quarter once,
T believe - accounts for the precise
knowledge of her former home. Well!
she’s a beauty and Lord Alfred will
have no cause to sigh over a good
figure-head for his household. That’s
hardly fair tn» the lady—but the way
the dear Four Hundred tighten their
grasp upon a poverty-stricken noble
man with a bedimmed title reminds
me of nothing more than the Laocoon.
I declare, young, innocent girls are
trained, taught to this exchange of
their charming youth for the palsied
hand of age. and its attendant serpen
tine coils of a title, n decayed ruin of
a chateau or castle, and they submit
so tenderly. It is beyoifd me, for these
proud, fearless American girls endure
tortures known only to themselves.”
Thus ran the thoughts of Johnson
os he marched along the thoroughfare,
but lie was no nearer to solving the
mystery than before. Meanwhile Ned
Blake was not so mindful of “copy”
ns he had intimated to.Tohnson. Mem
ory had reminded him of the days
when the letters of Grace Ward had
flown to him like a flock of tiny blue
birds breathing love and affection and
a happy future. Now all was changed.
A misunderstanding, coldness, silence,
the advent of Lord Alfred Brace, im
portunities of friends and—the en
gagement.
“Johnson is a bright, breezy fellow,”
reflected Blake, as he leaned his weary
head against the chair, “and as sharp
ns a steel trap. He would make an
excellent correspondent of an explor
ing expedition, as lie enjoys adventure.
I'll speak to Henderson about him.
He is too contemptuous of the follies
and foibles of humanity to suc
ceed here. He spoils a good story
by having a sympathetic or antagon
istic chord relative to it. By Jove! I
must get out of here and have some
air and quiet."
Blake had been working at a terrible
pace for months and he was even now
straining every nerve to accomplish
more than was expected of him,
through the feverish restless striving
from thoughts of himself. Work was
the panacea. What mattered i,t if he
did lie awake night after night con
scious of gradual loss of strength for
the day’s labor, if at the close of the
conflict for sleep he fell into a com
atose state, neither awake nor sleep
ing, wherein a delicious, restful lan
guor predominated, granting him float
ing visions of the woman he loved.
Upon his brow he felt the gentle
touch of her cool fingers; he heard her
murmur words of pity and tenderness,
in low, sweet tones, and for a few mo
ments his soul seemed to leave the
body and float with hers, as did Fran
cesca and Paola, through space.
It was worth the hard grind of the
wearisome day to welcome night, the
old struggle and once more this de
licious and dreamy languor. Surely
Paradise could confer no more ex
quisite sensation than was granted
him in this hour of the early dawn. As
the sun’s rays flashed through the
room and the discordant sounds of
early traffic broke rudely on this rev
erie, he arose unrefreshed, depressed
in spirits, feverishly anxious to take
up the duties of the day.
With a sigh of relief, Ned Blake,
managing editor, pushed the copy
front him, arranged his des,., locked it
carefully, summoned a boy and deliv
ered certain instructions. He left the
room and in a few moments was on
the street where the lights danced and
flickered like will o’ the wisps tinder
the influence of a raw.-etrst wind.
On the way to Chickering hall, Blake
encountered a crowd. On inquiry he
learned of a collision between the cable
and a private carriage, and front that
description his heart knew that it, was
Grace Ward who was injured. He
beckoned a passing hansom and drove
to her home, regardless of all except
that he loved her more dearly than
*ver.
At last he saw her, pale and wan, but
-was he dreaming?—a delicate blush
mantled her cheek as she held out her
hands to him.
“My darling—my darling! I thought
T had lost you!” he murmured, as he
fell on his knees at her side.
“No, Ned. it was a narrow escape.
Fortunately, Lord Alfred was driving
near and he averted the most serious
consequences,” she replied, nervously.
“Lord Alfred! Grace, is he ever to
be near you?” the agitated lover ejac
ulated. while the color flashed into his
pale face.
“Ned!”
That was all, but the tone of re
proach cut him like a whip.
"My darling girl, it is rumored
everywhere that you are engaged to
marry him, but I could not believe it.
You would not sell yourself for a title
and the paltry gold he controls?” he
asked in a bitter tone.
“Ned! you are unjust to me now as
always. Lord Alfred has been very
kind, lie is a connection of my family
and he is arranging to restore certain
estates to me that have been in liti
gation for years. Indeed, Ned, I fear
you will be shocked to hear that 1 am
Lady Grace Ward instead of— Oh,
Ned! don’t look so horror-stricken,”
she added, roguishly. “It is a small af
fair, anyway. The title goes with the
estates.”
“Where are the estates, may I ask?”
he free/.ingly inquired.
"In Fifeshire, Scotland, you know
my birth-place. You are not angry
with me because of this stroke of good
fortune, are you Ned?” She looked
at him keenly as if to read his soul.
“Oh, no, 1 congratulate you, but it
seems all a dream. Naturally you will
go abroad and look after your affairs.
In that ease, you are free—in any case,
1 may say, as I have no desire to hold
you t o—”
“Ned! Ned!” the girl interrupted
him, in a beseeching tone, but his un
reasonable overtaxed system refused
to recognize it.
“I am no fortune-hunter, Grace, but
your opportunities are greater, and
you must marry befitting your sta
tion.”
“Ned Blake! T am ashamed of you
-—an American gentleman discussing
station and caste in this age and in
this country. That is as absurd as
your unreasonable jealousy over Lord
Alfred. He is not young—more like
a father to me, but you assumed that
T was like most of the women, dazzled
by gold and splendor. There are some
exceptions, Ned Blake,” retorted the
new thoroughly angered girl. “You
men credit us with intelligence, and at
the slightest deviation from the line
of your interpretation of us, from
your point of view—lo! we are not an
gelic. seraphic, but individual. Dear
me! Why are you all so illogical? We
have been waiting for certain condi
tions to prevail that we may marry.
Poverty was our bug-bear; you have
been half-killing yourself to swell
your bank account to respectable pro
portions, as you term it, that we may
not be followed by that silent subtle
serpent of life that stealthily follows
from place to place, seeking to poison
one in some vital spot—that lmg--bear
poverty. Now we—or 1 at least”—she
hastily corrected herself—“have a suf
ficiency. Fortune or fate brings us
together once more, and when I have
the pleasure of telling you of our—my
j good fortune, you talk of ‘station.’ ”
During this impetuous speech, Blake
had time to think that he was not quite
the hero of this little tragedy; the
heroine had the middle of the stage.
“Grace, T beg your pardon,” said he.
gently. “True, true, every word you
say, but there is a sequel. I have been
successful—-the mines have panned
out well, and those stocks have gone
whirling up. scattering dividends like
snowflakes, and I have been longing to
come to you and tell you of it. You
must confess that when Mine. Grundy
asserts that one of Beauty's daughters
is to make a sacrifice to Croesus or the
nobility—that is the same thing-—a
poor devil of a newspaper man feels
his chances are nil.”
“The newspaper man is supposed to
be possessed of average intelligtnce, I
have always understood.” Grace said
this in a bitter manner, her indigna
tion being still great.
“Certainly, but in this chase for
millions, the spirit cf the age, the man
with the greatest number carries off
the prize. But, forgive me, and take
me back to your loving little heart.
Thank Heaven for the accident and no
serious results except to my heart. In
your good Scotch—‘a man’s a man for
a’ that, a' that,’ dear, and we will
let by-gones be by-gones.”
lie drew her to him in a quick em
brace, and as she hid her flushing face
in his coat, she whispered:
“How about the. settlement of the
estates. Ned?”
“We will start at once. Henderson
gave me leave of absence for a year.
I am pretty much run down, as you
see—”
“Poor boy!”_
“So we will be married at once—”
“Oh, no! my trousseau!”
“Hang the trousseau! we can get it
on the other side.”
“How imperious we are, all of a sud
den.”
“A slave is never imperious to his
queen, my darling.”—Radford Re
vi
CHAMBERLAIN’S ORCHID.
In the Opinion of n Vlorklncnian t*
IV a H Noth inn' Hut a "Tater
BloSNOlll.”
Mr. Joseph Chamberlain’s lore for the
orchid is well known, and is respon
sible for the following, says Pearson’s
Weekly: During the progress of a po
litical meeting lately in the provinces,
at which Mr. C. spoke, an old man of
the laboring class pushed his way to
the front and asked of an old acquaint
ance:
“Which is he?”
“Who?”
“Why, Chamberlain. Which of that
lot’s ’im?”
“That clean-shaven chap theer—him
with the eyeglass,” responded the man
addressed.
“Is that Chamberlain?" ejaculated
the querist in a disappointed tone.
“Of course it is. What’s do’e think
of ’im?”
“Why, T think lie’s a regular fraud.
That’s wot I thinks.”
His companion at once entered intio
a spirited defense of the politician.
“I knows nothin’about politics,” re
marked the laborer, pushing his way
to the door. “They said as ’e wore a
little orchard in his buttonhole, and,
theer, it ain’t nawt but a tater-blos
siom.”
Finding His Rating.
It was on the beach at Southamp
ton. A number of children were
playing and digging in Ihe sand in
charge of two nurses and govern
esses. Two little fellows in immac
ulate white duck sailor suits had
scraped up an acquaintance. Neither
of them was much over three years
old.
“I live in New York,” said one,
with somewhat of an air of superior
ity, “and where do you live?”
The other chap looked him over
for a moment and then retorted: “I
live at Tuxedo Park. How many
horses does your father keep?”
This last was a crusher, but it
showed the spirit of the rising mon
eyed generation.—N. Y. Times.
Valuable Cut,
“It seems strange to me that Mr.
Ketchmn has forced his way into so
ciety so soon,” said a conservative old
lady to her son-in-law. “In my day
a man with his table manners would
not have been considered a desirable
addition to any dinner company. Why,
he has no idea how to use his knife
and fork!” “No-o,” said the young
man, slowly, “that’s perfectly true;
but his ability to cut coupons is such
that they overlook his awkwardness
with steak, fish and game.”—Youth’s
Companion.
Where the Trouble Comes In.
“Every man may have his price,”
remarked the Obeserver of Events
and Things, “but the trouble is you
can’t always ge them at your own
price.”—Yonkers Statesman.
A Continual Culler.
Mistress—Did anyone call while I
was out?
Bridget—Shure, mum, an’ the baby
kept callin’ fer yez all the toime ye
wuz gone! —Judge.
Greece has cut down nearly all her
forests, and is forced lo spend £400,
000 a year on imported timber.
<> ^
. Capital, $50,000 -„ ,\t/’
A GENERAL BANKING BUSINESS TRANSACTED, AND THE AC
COUNTS OF MERCHANTS, MANUFACTURERS
AND INDIVIDUALS SOLICITED. \
Directors:—T. J. Watson, John M. Cook, Ben Adler, S. Woilt, J. O.
Taylor, T. J. Graham, G. W. Hurley, W. A. Billingsley,
L. B. McDonald. ,
-OFFICERS- | |
Sigmund Wolff, President, G. W. Hurley, Vice-President '
W. A. Billingsley, Cashier, F. A. Jones, Assitant Cashier.
the I
N SLINEf
\ BETWEEN I;
THE 1ST WEST,
I Double daily Wide Vestibuled Trains between 1
Memphis and Oklahoma Territory
Close connection at ten junction points wl%i trains in
all directions NORTH, SOUTH, EAST and WEST?^ Pullman
Sleepers and Free Reclining Chair Cars on aim^rains.
The very best line to HOT SPRINGS, ARK. '
JNO. V. TEDFORD, aEOROF, H. LEE, J. P. t
Trov. Pass. Agout. O. P. & T. A. Tra
LITTLE ROCK, ARKANSAS.
r
“THE ONLY WAY.”
ST. LOUIS TO CHICAGO.
4=^=perfect tra>ns=4
MORNING, NOON, NIGHT AND MIDNIGHT,
EVERY DAY IN THE YEAR.
The eqirpment of these trains is matchless in every detail.
Free Chair Cars; Pullman Compartment and Standard Sleep
ers; Cafe Dining Cars; Parlor Cars—Observation Platforms. v
' v r
. — .. mmmmmm - ■■ -- - -
CHICAGO &. ALTON RAILWAY
Write for time-tables, rates, etc., to
D. BOWE£, Asst. Gen. Pass. Agt. ST. LOUIS, MO.
..Riddell Barge Line..
ON BLACK AND WHITE RIVERS
BETWEEN
Newport and Black Rock
j@*Steamer Joe Wheeler leavet
Newport every Monday at Noon.
BS-gTSTEAMER CURRENT VIEW leaves
Newport every Wednesday at nooc
for all points on Black River to Black
Rock.
Freight received at elevator at aL
times.
E. G. Riddell, Elmo Riddell
General Mgr. Sec. and Treaa,
S. R. PHILLIPS & CO.
Largest Insurance Agency
in Northeast Arkansas . . .
representing
Twenty-Five Leading Companies.
Rates Quoted on Application.
-— - . - OFFICE: . .-■■■
121 WALNUT ST., NEWPORT, ARK
t I
WHEN GOING
EAST - WEST - NORTH - SC'ITH_
-■4
TAKE THE OLD RELIABLE
t
Only line with Double Daily
THROUGH SERVICE
TO HOT SPRINGS
NO CHANGE.
CONNECTION MADE AT BALD KNOB
FOR MEMPHIS.
UNSURPASSED SERVICE
4* FAST TIME
DIRECT CONNECTION MADE AT ST.
Louis and Texarkana with lines
DIVERGING.
For information call on or
ADDRESS
WM. M. GREGG, Agent,
Newport, Ark.
H. C. Townsend, G. P. A.,
ST. Louis, mo.