The Elbert County tribune. [volume], July 30, 1903, Image 2

About The Elbert County tribune. [volume] (Elbert, Elbert County, Colo.) 18??-1920

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THAT GIRL of JOHNSON 'S
By JEAN KATE LUDLUM.
Author of “At a Girl's Mercs.“ Etc.
Entered According to Act of Toner*** in the Year Vm by Street & Sniu,
In the Office of i>ie Librarian of Concrete, at Wathincton. D. C.
CHAPTER I.
The Girl.
The day wan dreary when nhe wan
born, not only becauae the rain was
falling In a drizzling fashion and a
mist hung over the hills, hut because
ehe was born. Her mother, having
a soft heart, felt all her tenderness
awaking for her weak daughter, and
gathered her Into her arms with a half
pitying caress. But her mother did
not live long, and some of her friends
went so far as to say that It was well
ahe did not, for she would have spoiled
the girl.
Her father—well, there was no dan
ger of her father spoiling the girl
with tenderness. He considered her
birth one of the blows fate dealt him,
and he said he had had many blows
from fate. He said fate was against
him; people said he was shiftless; they
aald also that there was hardly a
doubt that the girl would be the same.
None of the Johnsons amounted to
much —af least that branch of the fam
ily. Lemuel Johnson, this man's
brother, was rich, rumor said, and they
did not blame him for having nothing
to do with his shiftless brother. He
lived in a fine house in Now York;
was enterprising and shrewd; how
could anyone blame him for dropping
this ne’er-do-well brother?
His brother thought differently.
Temuri was rich; fate had been good
to him; It was but right that he should
help him* It was an unheard of thing
that he had never offered to help him.
especially when this added burden was
laid upon his already too heavily laden
shoulders. Of what good to him wan
a girl? Girls were of little use. Had
ahe been a boy—but she was not a
boy, and she was motherless from the
time she was three weeks old.
With a pathetic appreciation of the
fltnoßs of things her mother named
ber Dolores. And from the time she
was taken from the dying mother’s
arms her large brown eyes, shaded
l»y long curling lashes, looked out upon
tiro world with a strange gravity and
a knowledge of what it meant to be
brought Into the world unwelcome and
unloved.
Bhe seldom cried. She never cooed
as other and happier babies do. And
as she grew older silence grew upon
ber. She said little and the neighbors
soldom ran In to gossip with her as they
did with each other, for there waß
no use; she took no Interest In them
or their gossip; no ono could talk
easily with her eyes upon them. So
when she grew old enough to attend
to the household matters herself, they
left her alone; even the children of
ber own age dropped her as though
she had been dead.
She was an excellent cook, and kept
the house well. In these things her
father had no fault to And. He sel
dom spoke to her; if the food were
well cooked he never found fault; ho
never praised it or her; be ate, his
meals in silence, and went out of the
house. She paw him only at meal
times; his evenings were spent at the
tavern; hers were spent at home
“Did ye get ther water?"
mending his clothes or doing whatever
was to be done.
And to every one In the village—out
of It she knew no one—sho was sim
ply “that girl of Johnson’s.”
CHAPTER II.
The Stranger.
When Dolores was twenty her father
awoke to the fact that she was no
longer a child. The knowledge of her
age and eomliness came to him sud
denly one day.
Johnson wan a blacksmith, nnd
young Green, whose father was judge
in the town across the mountain, wab
riding up the valley when his mare
cast a shoe, and ho Btopped at the
nhop to have It replaced.
The day was warm and sultry, and
after a few minutes young Green asked
for some water. Johnson sent him to
the house for It. saying that Dolores
would give it to him. Green returnod
In a few minutes. There was a strange
expression on his face, and he did not
enter the shop at once; he stood In the
doorway, watching the hammer fall on
the glowing Iron.
Green had a college education, and*
fcis friends were to a certain extent
like all other young fellows, fond of
hunting and all athletic sports, hut a
strength like this man's he had never
before seen. Green was a man. and
men admire strength. The mouth was
sullen under the scant gray mustache;
the eyes were small, and showed a
possible cruelty of nature—brute cruel
ty; the forehead was low and narrow.
There was not an Intellectual line In
his face.
A wrinkle of puzzled thought ap
peared between the young man's
brows, lie turned and looked long
and earnestly up the path that led to
the tiny unpainted house set in its
dreary garden a short distance up the
mountain.
Dolores was standing In the door
way. her arms hanging down In front
of her, her fingers clasped listlessly
together. The sunlight was on her
dark head; her brown eyes were look
ing straight before her. and there was
a light In her face that fairly trans
formed It. Usually there was little
light In her face. Her lips were part
ed as though she had been speaking of
pleasant things.
Young Green took off his hat. and
rnn his Angers through his fair hair.
The wrinkle of perplexity appeared
and deepened between his brows.
"Johnson is she your daughter?"
The blacksmith straightened up In
surprise. No one had ever before
asked about Dolores. With the back
of his hand ho wiped the dropB from
his grimy face.
"She my darter? Wal, 1 reckon. My
cursed luck thet she warn't a boy;
boys Is o' use."
A flash came Into the clear blue
eyes watching him. "Cursed luck?
Man, you should thank your lucky star
that she Is a woman—and such a wo
man! Where did sho get her learn
ing?"
"Leamln' ?"
The man was bewildered; he laughed
scornfully. "She ain't never had no
(earnin' 's far as I know. Thar ain’t
no use In (earnin'—’t least .1 ain’t
never seen no use o' It. Wlramen
'specially air better off ’thout It.
Hyar’s yer mare reddy. Pine mare,
she. A shillin’, sir; thank ’ee.”
The marl was full of life and spirits,
and a beautiful animal. When her
master mounted she reared and
plunged; her tail swept the scanty
grass at tho door, her long silky mane
swept his face; her eyes were dash
ing. her nostrils dilated.
The girl in the dooway lost her list
loss attitude. She came down the
steps, nnd railed to him. and her voice
—peculiarly penetrating, but full of
rare sweetness —sounded like a note
of music on the sultry air. He smiled
at her. With a tight rein and a calm
word he quieted the mare, then he
rode up to tho girl. His voice wbb
pleasant; to her it sounded grave and
almost, sweet.
"Tho mare Is gentle os a kitten; she
would not harm me for tho world. It is
only one of her tricks. You are as
fond of animals ns of astronomy, are
you not. Miss Johnson?”
Her gaze had strayed down to the
shop. Her father was standing In the
doorway rubbing his hands on his’
leathern apron and watching them.
The Aash died out of her eyes, the
Push from her face; the ilstlessneBs
had returned.
His gaze involuntarily followed hers.
He received no reply from her. nnd
expected none; he understood with a
rare instinct.
When he had ridden away she stood
a long time at the gate. The far
away look was in her eyes as she
watched the black mare and her rider
until the haze from the mountain hid
them from view.
When her father came Into dinner
he watched her as she prepared the
table; he watched her as she ate.
His eyes were on her constanly; she
knew it, but gave no sign.
As he took up his hat to return to
the shop he turned and asked, abrupt
ly. but with little show of Interest:
"How old air ye, girl?"
Her large eyes looked through and
through him; her gnze was steady, bis
wavered; her voice, too, was steady
and slow:
"I am twenty, father.”
"Curse the girl!” he muttered, as he
passed down the worn path to the
shop with no haste in his slouching
gait. "Curse all ther wlmmen! Domed
fools, every one of ’em! Jest my luck
thet she warn't a boy; boys Is o' use!”
, CHAPTER III.
Her Learning.
Dolores was sitting on tho door
steps one evening. Her father was at
the tavern as usual, and as her house
hold duties were finished she sat in
tho mellow moonlight that flooded the
mountain with raidiance. She was no
longer listless. Her lips were parted;
her eyes larger and darker than usual;
her face, raised to the starry heavens,
was full of light. On her knees lay
an old astronomy, and one slender
finger marked the piaev of her read
ing.
She was lost to herself and her sur
roundings; she did not hear the-heavy
footsteps approaching along tho nar
row path; she saw nothiug until a
rough hand pulled the book from under
her fingers. A deep oath smoto the
air.
"Curse ye!" her father muttered, be
tween his clenched teeth. "Curse 'em
as invented books ah’ learnin'! Thes
is ther way ye waste yer time while 1
an awa>. Curse ye! Yer mother was
fool ’nough. but ye're wdrse."
She rose up slowly to her full height
and confronted him. Her soul was In
h';r eyes and his shrank from It
"Father, say what you like of me;
you shall not say nothing of my
mother; she Is beyond your power
now."
The book had slipped from his hand
and fallen to the ground; he kicked it
contemptuously. The flash dee pend
In her eye, but she had had her say.
and sat down. The moonlight was
on her face and hair; her shadow lay
long and dark behind her.
I.avina Ketchnm made a gent!*
wife; she gave up much for peace,
and at first she had loved her hus
band; afterward she found out his
brute nature. Her nature was fin*,
and she was true to him h-;r
love was out of the O
He watched her face.
forbade her the use of her books, and
In that only she would not obey him.
For a nature like hers to die men
tally or even stagnate was impossible.
She was above him as the stars she
loved were above her, and she knew
it. and he knew it also; bo hated her
for it.
She was a school teacher, and as
school teachers did not thrive that side
of the mountain he offered her a home,
and she accepted his ofTer, believing
him noble because of this generous
act. as women will believe of the men
they love until they have been proved
otherwise, when the sweet If rather
blind faith In them can never return
once being destroyed.
Her daughter inherited her naturo
only In a far higher degree. Her hus
band knew It, and tho neighbors knew
It. Never', however, did the girl's
father know that her mother's books
were her constant companions;'that
she lived in them and on them; that
nearly every word of theirs was known
to her by heart.
Betsy Glenn had been her mother’s
schoolmate and friend. Betsy Glenn
taught Dolores with all the power she
was capable. She had long been dead,
but the seed she sowed grew and
grew; Borne time it would ripen and
bear fruit.
Had her father known of this ho
would have stopped it from the first.
He did not know It, for he had never
taken enough interest in her to know
it. Had he asked her she would have
told him, but he never asked
The Jealousy he had already felt to
ward his wife for her love of books
seethed and scorched in his heart aa
he stood facing her daughter and his.
She possessed not one of his traits;
the mother's nature had deepened ten
fold In his daughter.
(To Be Continued.)
BARBER WHO WAS A KING.
Nervous Customer Jumped at Con*
elusion and Fled.
A queer reminlscentlal gleam crept
into the eyes of the barber, with tho
long, low, rakish forehead, as ho sud
denly rested his razor hand while
shaving the Adair T's apple of the lean,
nervous-looking man In the chair.
"1 was King Louis XIV. of Franco
last night,” said the barber, suddenly,
the razor still poised about half an
Inch above the lean customer's Adam's
apple. f
The customer blinked and breathed
hard. The shaved side of his faco
became nearly as white as the still
lathered other side.
“W»lt a minute," he said, placing a
shaking fiaml on the barber’s shaving
arm. He up sat straight In the chair
with a wild look, and then made a bolt
for the door.
“Wow!" he yelled as he went. What
an escape! King Louis XIV! Bug
house! He wouldn’t have done a thing
to me—” and, wlta the towel stream
ing in the breeze and one side of his
face still lathered, he loped down the
street.
The barber with the long. low rak
ish forehead went to the door and
stared efter the galloping customer
with amusement.
“Well. I’ll be dad-binged!" muttered
the barber. “Now what kind o’ cogs
has that feller got in his conk? I was
on’y tryin' to tell him that I was King
Louis XIV. at the barbers' masquerade
hall last night, nnd look at him goln’
after Salvator's mile record!”—Wash*
ington Post.
The Real Cause.
Maude —"What makes you so aw
fully nervous, dear?”
Clara—" Why, Fred is to have an In
terview with papa this afternoon.”
Maude—" Oh. and you are afraid your
father will not give his consent?”
Clara—No; I’m afraid Fred won't
show up."
HOLLAND’S OLD CITY
Dutch Metropolis One of the Most Interesting Spots ol the
Old World—lndisputably the Greatest Diamond
Market on Earth.
(Special Correspondence.) *
When a woman looks lovingly upon
(he diamond that sparkles upon the
third digit of the left hand, ten to one
she only thinks of the one who placed
it there, and of the nearing day when
that hand shall be given trustingly to
him. as they start on their Journey.
Small wonder is it she thinks of noth
ing else, or that she has no particular
The “Neue Kerk." j
Interest in the history of the won
derful shining stone that sends forth
a hundred rays.
But if she should stop to think of
what this little atom or carbon went
through before it blossomed out in a
setting of pure gold, she would prob
ably find that It had its glimpse of
the outside world in Africa, where
some swarthy son of the mines dis
covered it and added It with great Joy
to the little collection in the chamois
skin bag around his neck. Then it
was handed to the overseer of the
mines, who sent It to. Cape Town with
hundreds of others, and, after being
properly weighed and registered and
what not, it was sent to the greatest
diamond market in the world. Amster
dam, to be split and cut and polished.
In Amsterdam there are over
seventy diamond cutting establish
ments at the present time, and their
number is constantly increasing. Am
sterdam has a very largo Jewish
population, and the greater part of the
diamond cutting and selling industry
Is In their hands.
Six thousand persons are employed
In cutting diamonds, and in twenty-four
cutting establishments there are over
4,000 facing lathes. Four thousand
more employes are kept busy in other
branches of the business of preparing
the diamonds for the market.
Independently of any special attrac
tions, the Dutch metropolis Is a curi
ous and intensely Interesting place.
A fosse surrounds the wall of the city
and girdles it. In the shape of a tightly
Btrung bow, from end to end. with
the Y as the string. In this watery
limit, on either side, Amsterdam is
built in the shape of a hajf-moon.
Circle within circle follow the four
main canals of the city, the Prinzen
Gracht, Kelzers Gracht, Heeren Gracht
and Slngel. all following the course of
the outer fosse.
Like lines in a spider’s web run In
numerable other canals, splitting this
city of silent highways into islands
connected by drawbridges and giving
It the well deserved title of the
“Venice of the North.” Stately trees
line tho canals, whose calm waters
never ripple save In the wake of some
canal boat. Two centuries ago these j
King’s Palace.
same canals, with their rows of brick
houses and glimpses Into narrow
streets, their picturesque bridges and
quaint views, gave to Jan Van der
Heyden inspiration for the brilliant
canvasses that are forever famous.
Long paved promenades stretch out
to the Zuyder Zee, reached by pedes
trlaus only across a swinging network
of drawbridges and water gates. Once
In a while one comes upon a stony
oasis in all this watery desert, Upon
which is built banka, markets, church-
es. exchanges and edifices of every
sort, all resting upon piles.
The houses, which have curiously
carved gables projecting, for some
good architectural reason, out Into
the streets, the cranes hanging from
them for the conveyance of articles
from the boats direct to the store
rooms in the housetops; the little
signs of flowers or flags announcing
the arrival of boats loaded with her
rings; the strange costumes in the
streets; the queer signs of the little
apothecary shops, of Moorish heads,
with open mouths and protruding
tongues; the carrilloß. chimed from
the steeples every hour —all theso
sights and sounds associated only with
Amsterdam animate the still life of
the old town and make the eyes of the
tourist fairly bulge from his head with
so much looking.
The Jewish quarter Is, In nil Its filth
and poverty, a great contrast to the
rest of the city, clean and prosperous,
with evidences of wealth and thrift
on every side. The narrow streets,
with dirty, unkempt children playing
before the doors and swarthy dames
with Bharp tongues holding arguments
from window to window over their
heads, have slums that would put
those of Whitechapel to shame.
"Jordan” suggests anything but the
"Land of Jordan.” with its narrow by
ways, alleys and slums, the dirty
ditches and filthy streets along the
canal wherein the entire population
seem to live in one tangle of push
carts and stalls reeking with decayed
fruit aud fißh that have seen better
days, and overhead, flapping in the
languorous breezes, are festoons of un
derclothing. the family wash hung up
to dry.
During the first Napoleon’s reign the
government was driven from Its seat
In the lordly palace In the Dam, which
Is the center of the town. The ex- J
change and the "Neue Kerk." the
principal cathedral, where, according
to constitutional law. the rovereign
Is crowned, are also here. This, as
the home of the "little queen” during
one week of the year, makes it of suf
ficient Interest for a visit, which will
be pleasant, even If one does nothing
but stroll through the quaint old halls.
The costumes of the people are odd,
their eccentricities of dresß truly mar
| velous, especially the female garb for
festive occasions, when from all tha
country round—even from the ißle of
Maarken—flock, the peasarita in holi
day nttlre.
The women of Maarken. who have
not changed their style of dress In
j centuries, wear great pads on their
hips, and several thick woolen petti
coats. while the wooden shoes are seen
>n every turn.
The wooden shoes and Edam
dteases are the "trade marks" of Hol
and, and, while the one Is picturesque
o look upon, the other is so delicious
■o the taste that one who has broken
'he rind of one of these luscious red
globes never will forget the flavor.
Thirteen new theaters, to cost SB,-
000,000, are building in Naw York city.
Dr. p.. JT. Decxrvey,
Physician and
Surgeon,
Offlee st Drug Store. ELBERT. COfcO.
Dr. W. FoWler,
DENTIST
G** AdnilnMered for Extracting
Rooms IM South Tejou Street. Between Pike e
Peak Avenue and Huerfano.
COLORADO SPRINGS - COLO.
R I P A N S Tabules
Doctors find
A pood prescription
For mankind.
The Vcent packet l» enough for usual occasion*.
The family bottle (fit rental contain* a *npply for
a year. All druggieta cell them. 03
! Barber Shop *
Sharing Ioe x
f Sunday Shaving V
A llalr Cutting 2.V M
\ Children * Hair Catting lie x
9 Whisker Trim lie V
0 B'nge lie 0
. Shampoo i ® X
f razor Mining a specialty \
9 ALL work GUARANTEED FIRST- f
0 CLASS.
GEORGE MKIMMIE. 0
• •
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The Southeastern Limited
Leaving Kansas City at 6:30 P. M.
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For detailed information apply to
G. W. MARTIN
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1106. 17th St.
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