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Newport daily independent. (Newport, Ark.) 1901-1929, March 28, 1903, Image 2

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DOMESTIC STRATEGY.
Their daughter's hair was turning gray.
Time's finger marks wore on her face;
Bomehow the fellows kept away.
Instead of hanging round the place.
Her parents shook thrir heads anil sighed.
Considering her splnsterhood;
.Whene'er she had a beau they tried
To rope him in—it did no good.
At last, one day, n fellow came
To smile upon the lonely maid;
Her father stormed and fearftil blame
Upon the wooer's head was laid;
They tried to drive him from the seene—
They played a c.t?ep. deceptive part—
And, looking on her as a queen,
The duped one took her to his heart.
—S. E. Kiser, in Chicago Record-Herald.
. THE HERMIT
HE THE FLATS
' X V \_
There he lived amid (he teeming
humanity of the great and populous
city, with the noise and bustle of traf
fic and hum of human voices always
buzzing through his solitude, yet al
ways alone and lonely, a hermit of the
llats. The men of his acquaintance
tpo-kc to him or nodded cheerily
across the restaurant tables, but he
was conscious of divergent interests,
so he never encouraged their friendly
advances, but went on his way in
moody silence. Of women he never
thought since the death of his hopes
seven years before, when the girl of
his choice had rejected him f r a
luckier man. (gradually his solitude
hardened him, and the' hardening
... ...1 1.. t . 1.1 • AP. lrliinli
j ...
took a pessimistic turn. The editors
complained because his otherwise
strong, virile work, was too somber;
others said it lacked naturalness and
humanity, but whatever the fault
was, Haswell began to realize that
something was seriously amiss.
“do out among the people and get
freshened up,” said his friend Boyn
ton, who had always likul Haswell s
i style of work, “and let yourself live.
Then write what you have learned
from them.”
But Haswell declined to take his
advice, saying that the vulgar horde
repelled him, and he preferred to
write in lvis own way or not at all, so
liis^ stories grew less and less success
fulAand Haswell’s temper soured pro
portionately.
lt\was a bitter midwinter night.
The icty win'd \t hist led shrilly through
alleys and filtered in between the
oC'W<es\vell's windows, ratiling
the easements'iTn]dTlf?air<tJY. Has
well was out of temper witlrUiis work
and the exacting editors, had
returned a hatch of his stories with
out so much as a rejection slip. He
rose, plugged the casements, and
drew his machine closer to the glow
ing hearth, and began to revise the
rejected copy, when a timid knock
at his door interrupted his thoughts.
A gust of chilly air rushed up
from the open vestibule below as he
threw back the hall door, revealing
the presence of a stranger with an
awkwardly wrapped parcel in his
arms. A thin fall of snow hid the
threadbareness of his ill-fitting coat,
and the drooping rim of his battered
hat obscured his face, which was very
young and dark and unnaturally
thin.
“What do you want here?” Ilaswell
demanded, sharply.
“Do Mr. Severano live here?”
asked a very soft, childlike voice.
“No, he doesn’t,” Ilaswell an
swered brusquely. “There are no
Italians in this apartment house.
You had better get out before you're
put out.”
“He told my friend he live here,"
the boy said, apologetically. “He
have promised to let me play for him.
I need work very bad,mister.”
“Oh, I dare say! Some begging
game, of course. Well, you won't
make anything here, I can tell you.”
Then for the first time he saw the
violin under the boy’s ragged arm.
“Do you play that thing?” he asked,
curiously. “Yon'tc not more than a
child!” '
“I acrTl», mister,” the soft, ap
-—\pealing voice answered.
N “Well, you’re man’s not here," lias
well retorted, briefly, closing the
door and going back to his cheerful
hearth. But that last glimpse of the
pathetic little face made him uncom
fortable. He opened the door once
more, and leaning over the banisters,
tailed down to him. “Come up,” be
laid, rather grudgingly, “I may be
able to help you find your friend.”
The hoy pattered softly up the
i iteps. Once within the brightly ligbt
F ed room his poverty and weariness
became painfully apparent; his trous
ifc. ers and coat were frayed and ragged,
a|| and his \big loose shoes were full of
gaping Isoles. Ilaswell took the old
violin from his numb grasp and bade
im tbr.lv oil his coat, which he did
fumblingly, for his rands wore stiff
and blue with cold. His trousers
were wet to the knees, and the moil
ing snow oozed steadily from the
broken toes of liis shoes. llaswell
stared at his sad figure helplessly.
“Where do you live?” lie demand
ed, abruptly.
"In (Ireenwieh street, mister.”
“Down town. I presume. Must you
go home to-night?”
The boy shrugged his shoulders
with a gently depreciating smile.
“Nobody don't care if 1 don't,” he an
swered.
“Then you had better stay hero.
You can sleep on tin1 couch,yonder,
when you’re all cleaned up. You are
wringing wet and cold as ice. Tell
you what, I'll run a tubful of warm
water, and you can take your bath
while 1 hunt up some "dry things.
After that you can tell me about your
self.”
When the strange little figure
emerged from the bathroom arrayed
in Haswell’s spacious pajamas, with
his black silken thatch washed and
curling crisply all around liis pale
face, llaswell noticed that bis deli
cate, refined beauty was quite ex
traordinary and'altogether irreconcil
able with bis rags and misery, llaswell
poured out the coffee he had steeped
over his alcohol lamp, and sot before
his guest a plate of crackers and
cheese which lie bade him eat, while
he finished his work, but although
the host made a creditable feint of
writing, lie did’not for an instant take
his eyes from the beautiful, pallid
face which the mellow fireglow threw
into sharp rohcl. \\ ny urn inai
stranger child interest him so over
whelmingly? he asked himself, grim
ly; was it because of the possible story
it held or had he touched thcglossed
over springs of human sympathy
which had lain dormant so long un
der the stolid indifference that
cloaked the hermit of the flats?
It was a pathetic little story that
the lad had to toll, and' he told it in
faltering English, with nowand then
a word of his Servian mother tongue
to offset its pathos: of his immigrant
father, a musician in the old country,
who had been obliged to take work in
a factory to avert starvation, whose
death occurred shortly after through
an explosion of the factory works; of
the subsequent wanderings in a
strange city. His only friends had
lately been engaged to travel with a
concert band, and he was trying to
find a countryman who had promised
him an insignificant part with his wan
dering band. He was quite alone in
the world, without kindred, or
friends, or money. His only hope
was to 'obtain work enough to pin his
return passage to Servia. Haswell
asked many questions, but the lad’s
story never deviated except to add
some pathetic detail which showed
how much toil and privation his
young life had known.
“I used to take a great deal of pleas
ure in music,’*said Haswell, when the
child had finished his story and drawn
his chair closer to the blazing hearth.
“Suppose you play something for me
.* * i
II you art* waim yuou^ii iu iiuuuit*
your violin. I want to know what you
can do.”
Rhuel tucked his old violin under
his chin and tightened the slack
strings, then he dried his bow care
fully and began to play, very softly
and delicately, a weird little melody
unlike anything Haswell had ever
heard, more sad, more beautiful and
infinitely sweeter. There was a lack
of technique and definiteness in his
touch which would bar a successful
hearing with the coldly critical pub
lic, but to Haskell, whose soul was
stirred to its inmost depths by the
spirit of pure melody, it seemed in
expressibly lovely. It brought new
pictures to his mind, of unsuspected
beauty, of lives shadowed by want and
poverty, toilers in the dark whom such
as ho, to whom much had been given,
should minister comfort and cheer.
He seated himself before his desk
and began to write, without conscious
effort or weariness, the story that the
child’s music inspired. The boy
played on unceasingly, glancing now
and then at the hand hurrying across
the paper, until at last Haswell lifted
his head and smiled.
“You are tired, I'm sure." he said,
in a voice of singular gentleness,
“l’ut away your violin and go to bed
in my room, yonder. 1 want to finish
my work here beside the fire.”
A week later, when Haswell took
his story down to Boynton’s office,
the latter glanced it over skeptically,
read a few lines of the last page,
then began at the start and went
through it word for word, with eager
attention. When he had finished he
looked up at Haswell with a queer,
unaccustomed smile. “If you can do
a thing like that once,” he said, “you
can do it again. That’s the sort of
stuff vvc want. I’ll give you fifty dol
| lars for every story of that kind you
send me.”
Ilaswell went back io his hermit
flat in an exultant frame of mind. He
found his little guest crouching be
fore the fire with his curly head
bowed over the violin. ‘ Khuel/ be
began, abruptly, “you have given me
a great deal of pleasure with your mu
sic, and to show you I appreciate the
kindness* I have decided to send you
home. A week from to-day you shall
have your passage ticket. ’
The boy looked up with a start,
and his face grew, if possible, paler.
He rose, laid down his violin, and
took a step toward his benefactor,
then paused and’ looked at him with
glowing eyes.
“Are you very glad?” Ilaswell
asked, smiling whimsically.
“Yes, mister, an’ no, too. I love
my country—but I haf norelative—
“Perhaps you would rather have
(be money?” Ilaswell suggested,
rather coldly.
Kliuel shook his head. Suddenly
ho put out one thin hand and touched
HasweH’s shoulder with an appealing
gesture that thrilled the older man
strangely. “Mister, I rader stay wid
you,” he faltered. “If you let me, I
jus’ love to stay.”
“Stay with me!” Ilaswell echoed
inadequately. Then lie laughed and
caught the thin little hand in his big
warm grasp.
“I really believe we’d hit it off fine,
little lad,” he said, gayly. “I’m not
quite suited with tins Hermit me,
upon my word. I’m not. Suppose we
try doubling up /or a time? When
you grow tired you can say so, you
know.”
“No, mist er,” t h e boy eon tradict ed,
eagerly. “I never grow tired. I love
to stay always!”
“Stay, then,” said Haswell.
And he did.—X. Y. Times.
SHE COULDN’T AFFORD IT.
The Girl Who Would Not Cause Her
Mother Anxiety.
“Hester.” said Bertha Bitterhouse,
as she met her friend on the street,
one day, relates Golden Pays. “I
was just on my way to your house to
invite you over this evening.
“To a party?” asked Hester Searle,
eagerly.
“Yes, a party,” was the laughing
answer; “but not the kind you have
in mind. There are five of us—all
girls—who are going to Banker's,
pond, to have a skating party. It
will be a beautiful moonlight night,
and we will have a lovely time.”
“Banker’s pond!”—Hester’s face
fell perceptibly. “Are there no boys
going?”
“No. We decided that we would
have all the fun to ourselves.”
“But Banker’s pond is not consid
ered safe,” objected Hester. “You
know there were several accidents
there last year—some that came near
being fatal.”
“Nonsense!”laughed Bertha. “The
ice is six inches thick, and there isn’t
the slightest danger.”
“But mother does not think so,”
objected Hester; “and she would be
worried all the time I was away.”
“8he will forget all about her worry
when you return and tell her what an
enjoyable time you have had.”
Hester walked along m silent re
flection fora moment, and then said,
with a decided shake of her head:
“No, Bertha, I can’t afford to go
skating to-night.”
“Why, Hester!” exclaimed Bertha,
“it will not cost you a cent.”
“But it will cost my mother a great
deal.”
“How?” questioned Bertha, in
amazement.
“In fear and anxiety.”
“But. Hester, didn't I tell you—”
“Bertha,” said Hester, gently, hurt
firmly, “1 cannot afford to cause my
mother two hours’ distress of mind,
however needless. The fact that
there is no danger, as you state, does
not make any difference. Mother
knows that the pond is in a secluded
spot—far from help, should any be
required; and she would suffer from
apprehension every moment during !
my absence. Do you think 1 can !
afford to purchase pleasure at such '<
a price? 1 am certain 1 cannot.”
“What a ridiculous idea!’'’ ex
claimed Bertha.
But Hester was not disconcerted
She was right. She could not af
ford it!
An Up-to-Date Prince.
Japan’s crown prince is up to date
in most things. His latest acquisi
tion is a yacht. I he vessel has been
presented to him by the Mitsubishi
shipbuilding firm. The yacht is
double-masted, has one funnel, meas
ures 18 feet beam, 90 feet on the
water line, and draws nine feet, with
a displacement of 80 tons gross. The
craft has been christened thcHatsu
kaze (First Brcvzej.
KITCEENlp^^AiLROADING.
EewJi^Built the Railway by Whicl
the Sudan Was Conquered.
Writing in the Century on the
trip “From Cairo toKhartum”by the
Nile and the Sudan railway. Dr. Wil
liam Cage Erving says:
The construction of this railway
will always be ranked as one ol
Kitchener’s great est achievements in
the Sudan. Obliged by limited ap
propriations to conduct all his opera
tions at the least possible expense, he
made use of every remnant of the
equipment of Ismail Pa-ha’s unfin
ished railway,rescuing dismantled en
gines from ditches, and collecting
missing parts from the contents of
scrap-heaps. Near the Atbara his
rails gave out, leaving a break of some
distance to a necessary terminus.
Every siding which could be spared
was taken up, and then, the results
being insufficient, the village of Wady
Haifa was laid under requisition.
Here many of the houses had straw
roofs supported by rails taken from
the old line. These were summarily
appropriated, and after their remov
al Haifa presented the spectacle of a
mushroom western town under a cy
clone. But the line was completed.
The greatest obstacle was the all
important stretch of 230 miles from
Haifa to Abu Hamed, across the neck
of the great bend of the Nile, an un
broken expanse of barren desert. The
leading engineers of Europe declared
it possible to construct a railway
across, this tract, arguing that the
entire earning capacity of a train
would be taken up by the water -sup
ply necessary for the locomotive.
Nevertheless, assuming the respon
sibility, the sirdar ordered the work
begun, relying on the indomitable
pluck and skill of his subordinates in
charge and his own habit of success.
Near the middle of the course, at
points some 50 milcs>apart, wells were
sunk, an operation ridiculed by the
natives, and with true Kitchener luck
water was struck in both instances,
so that the train now accomplishes
the distance with only two extra wa
ter tanks. But all succeeding at
tempts to find water along the line—
and they have been many—have
proved fruitless.
It was by means of this railway
that the Sudan was conquered. By
its construction the long route of
nearly TOO miles by way of a river for
ong stretches absolutely innavigable
for ten or eleven months in the year,
and even at flood impracticable save
for small whale-boats hauled through
rapids at enormous toil and expense,
was exchanged for a short, direct, un
obstructed highway, its carrying ca
pacity limited only by the shortcom
ings of a single pair of rails.
A REMARKABLE RUG.
Gift of the Shah of Persia to th
Sultan of Turkey.
One of the most remarkable fea
tures of the new edition of “Oriental
Bugs” (Charles Scribner’s Sons), is
a reproduction of a carpet owned by
the late Henry J. Marquand. This
piece, which was woven in the latter
part of the fifteenth century, was
without doubt made as a gift from
the pasha of Persia to the then ruling
sultan of Turkey, for the authenticat
ed record held hv Mr Ma rmia ml I
showed that it had been found among
the effects of the Sultan Abdul Aziz
after his death.
Aside from the marvelous color
and texture, which is over 500 knots
to the square inch, the feature of the
rug is that the inscriptions through
out its border, as well as arabesques in
the medallions of the design, are
woven in silver thread. Vast inter
est has been excited artfong the Eu
ropean collectors in this carpet owing
to the fact that it is a companion piece
for the famous carpet owned by the
Prince Alexis Lobanow Rcstowsky,
which was shown in the Vienna mu
seum's exhibition in 1889.
The ltostowsky rug was supposed
to be without a parallel in the
world, but this carpet, the most high
ly valued among the textile treasures
of Mr. Marquand, contains positive
internal evidence that it was made
upon the same looms and in the same
period, and doubtless for the same
purpose as that of Prince Lobanow,
which also passed into possession of
its present owner directly from the
seraglio in Constantinople, and so far
as it can be ascertained th is carpet,
used as a frontispiece of “Oriental
Hugs,” is the highest class oriental
fabric now in existence in this coun
try. _
Free Theaters.
Some of the Parisian theaters give
gratuitous performances three or four
times a year. They are intended for
poor people, and those who are first
in line arc usually at the door.- several
hours before the house is opened.
r
oil insist on having Eupion, the
family safety. This is a double
distilled process oil that is
odorless and absolutely safe.
If you will use clean burners
and wicks and Eupion Oil you
will have best light obtainable.
The only merchants in Newport
that sell this high-grade oil are
Wolff-Goldman Merc. Co., W.
B. Chastain, Wilmans Bros.,R.
D. Wilmans, Heiliger’s Union
Market Co., Martin Bros., Har
ris & Daugherty L. G. DaVaul
and O. M. Bowen.
Waters-Pierce Oil Comp’y
The NEWPORT
LAUNDRY
COMPANY.
Has the Largest Plant in
Arkansas.
Equipped with Latest Improved
Machinery.
Uses Filtered and Condensed
Water and Positively Guar
antees all work.
Give Us A Trial.
We Will Please You. Prompt
Service and Special Work
Every Day.
Out of Town agents wanted.
NEWPORT LAUNDRY CO.
M. K. Upshaw, Mgr.
JACK HERRON.
Back again in Newport and
Prepared to do all kinds ol
Brick Work.
Repair Work Promptly
Attended To.
Have Your
Clothes Made,
Cleaned, Pressed
and Repaired
-BY
Arthur Hunly
The Tailor on Front Street.
^ I—^
4 Good Route
to Try
It traverses a territory rich in
undeveloped resources; a territory
containing unlimited possibilities for
agriculture, horticulture, stock rais
ing, mining and manufacturing. And
last, but not least, it is
The Scenic Route
tor Tourists.
The Frisco System now offers the
traveling public excellent service and
fast time— '**
Between St. Louis and Kansas Mm
City and points in Missouri, Kansas,
Arkansas, Oklahoma, Indian Terri
tory, Texas and the Southwest.
Between Kansas City aqd points
in Tennessee, Alabama, Misi(**
Georgia, Florida and the
Between Birmingham and
phis and points in Kansas, Arkansas,
Oklahoma, Indian Territory, Texas
and the West and Southwest.
Full information as to route and
rates cheerfully furnished upon appli
cation to any representative of the
Company, or to
Passenger Traffic Department,
Commercial Building,
Saint Louis.
t_U.LI.M«IIII miwi HTHIT1-————
WHEN GOING
EAST • WEST - NORTH - SOUTH
taae the old reliable
I
ONLT LINE, WITH DOUBLE 3AIIT
THROUGH SERVICE
TO HOT SPRINGS^
NO CHANGE.
CONNECTION MADE AT BALD KNOi
TOR MEMPHIS.
UNSURPASSED SERVICE^
FAST TIME - '"-J" "
DIRECT CONNECTION MADE AT §T.
LOUIS AN D TEXARKANA WITH LINES
DIVERGING.
FOR INFORMATION CALL ON OR
AOORES3
M. M. GREGG, Agent,
NEWPORT, ARK.
fi, C. Townsend, G. P. A.,
ST. LOUIS. MO.
THE BANK OF NEWPORT
CAPITAL $50,000
surplus, $25,000.
OFFICERS AND DIRECTORS.
0. W. Decker, President. A. D. Bailey, Vice-President.
R. M. Johnson, Cashier. T. D. Kinman, Ass’t. Cashier.
V. Y. Cook, ^ Thos. J. Graham, A. E. Shoffnek
Jno. T. Flynn, J. W. Grubbs, Jos. M. Stayton.
- r
nmr FYDFRIFWPF Is an important factor in successful banking. With all
nlr L LArLHlLliUL due sense of modesty, we venture to direct your at
tention to a brief review of the long business career of the men who compose
our Board of Directors aud Officers.
FnilDTFFM YFARC Experience in the affairs of Banking ill this community
'UUnlLLH icnno enables us to measure and meet the needs of our cus
tomers. We solicit your accouut, and promise proper help in time of need.
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