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St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, March 15, 1896, Image 19

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059522/1896-03-15/ed-1/seq-19/

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Efforts Are Made to Rents-lot Its Mem
ber, to Those Best Prepared
for the Work.
Lent is the season when the Chris
tian world gives itself up with more or
less fervor to its spiritual devotions,
and asks itself, "What is my duty to
ward my neighbor? l ' -
There is a class of workers in the
world whose whole, life is a'Lanten
season in its best sense, in that it is
entirely given up to spiritual devotions
and doing its duty toward its neigh
bor. The parish, hospital and school
work done by the Protestant sister
hoods is but little known, although
they are most devoted and efficient la
borers. wherever they are to be found.
There are several sisterhoods in New
(York, varying according to the purpose
for which they were founded. The first
'American sisterhood was founded in
New York some thirty years ago. This
is the Community of St. Mary, which
had Its origin in the Church of the
Holy Communion, Sixth avenue and
Twentieth street, which is well known
as a pioneer in important movements
in the Episcopal church. Mother Har
riet Cannon, the present mother supe
rior of the order, was its founder. She
was one of a little band of five women
who, in 1863, expressed their desire to
the bishop of the diocese to devote their
lives to religious work.
They were first given the charge of
the House of Mercy in New York,
where girls from the street were taken
to be reformed. The bishop and sev
eral prominent churchmen, in the
meantime, considered the advisability
of establishing a sisterhood in the
church. The report was favorable, and
in 1865 the sisters were openly pro
fessed, according to a form of. service
prepared by the bishop for the occa
The committee considering the for
mation of the order had recommended
that the sisters choose a name for
themselves, draw up a code of rules
for their organization, and that a chap
lain be appointed for the order. It also
recommended that the work of the sis
ters include "all the corporal and spir
itual works of mercy which a woman
may perform, and that she be devoted
to the sick and needy, and to the work
of educating the young." All this and
more was incorporated in the charter
of the sisterhood. The first chaplain
of the organization was the Rev Dr.
Dix, now the rector of Trinity church.
The vows of the sisters are not tak
en lightly. They are for life, and, as
ln monastic orders, art: the vows of
poverty, chastity and obedience, which
are literally fulfilled. The order is gov
erned by a chapter composed of the
professed sisters, who meet annually.
At these meetings new members are
admitted, if, having served a two and
a half years' novitiate, they receive a
two-thirds vote of the chapter. They
are then professed by the bishop, take
the ring with which they are conse
crated to their life work, and assume
the full habit of the order. The ring,
which is of plain gold, is worn upon the
fourth finger of the right hand.
The habit is of black merino, plain
and straight, the fullness of the skirt
formed by the box plaits, which fall
from the shoulders in the back and
front. : The habit is - secured at the
waist by a girdle of black cord. There
are long, wide sleeves, falling over the
close-fitting ones underneath. The plain
linen collar, which is round in the back,
forms a deep square in front. The full,
White linen of the head dress 'is gath
ered closely around the face, and the
wings of the cap turn back over it.
.The beautiful annunciation lily, the
emblem of the order, appears in silver
upon a black cross, which is worn
around the neck upon a black cord.
The habit of the novice is similar, only
modified somewhat in detail. It is as
sumed after the first six months of the
novitiate has been served.
The mother house of the order is at
Peekskill, where the novitiates are re
ceived and prepared for their life in
the community. A large plot of ground
Is owned at Peekskill. Upon it stand
the Noyes Home for Incurable and
Convalescent Children. St. Gabriel's
school, the convent, which occupies a
building formerly occupied by the
school, and a chapel, built in 1892. The
sisters are not engaged in work solely
in Institutions belonging to the order.
They are. : found in hospitals and . mis
sion fields in different places where the
church has work . for them to do. St.
John's Free Hospital for Children, at
407 West Thirty-fourth street, in New
York, is the property of the sisterhood,
and they have " recently increased Its
usefulness by purchasing thirty acres
of land at the Rocks, above -France
street,. where they will have a summer
home. . The property is controlled by
the sisterhood, though always, as in
other things, " under the direction of
Bishop Potter. The sisters take the
entire charge of the sick in the hospi
tal, assisted by women of the church,
who appreciate the opportunity of
fered to give their services to the
work. > ■ ** "■.'.'•T.;.*:.vi-.-.-.";.;«*YC
Other institutions in the city owned
by or in charge of the sisters are the
House of Mercy, at lnwood. the first
work undertaken by the sisters; St.
Mary's v school, in Forty-sixth street;
the Laura Franklin hospital, One Hun
dred and Eleventh street; the Trinity
hospital, on Varick street, and the Trin
ity Mission house, on Fulton street. Out
of the city the sisters are in charge of
a school at Kenosha, Wis.; a mission
house connected with the cathedral in
Chicago, a young ladies' school and
orphanage in Memphis, and a mission
house in Sewanee, Term. It was in
Memphis, IS7B. that the community lost
four sisters, who were bravely battling
with yellow fever and finally sacrificed
their lives in the work.
The Community of St. Mary is the
largest Protestant sisterhood in Amer
ica. It has now nearly 100 members.
There are many novitiates this year,
and it is increasing rapidly in size. It
is said that religious orders are anxious
to add to their numbers. Every effort
is made in the Community of St.. Mary
to restrict its members to those who
are absolutely fitted for the service.
The vow of poverty is taken literally.
The sisters are supported by the com
munity. There are no property regula
tions. The property of the sisters is
sometimes given to the community,
sometimes left to needy friends out
side. Many sisters enter who have no
property of any kind.
The community is pre-eminently a
working ; order, and there is not time
for extraordinary acts of devotion. A
general idea of the work is best con
veyed in the report of the sisters for
the year past.
The chief work of the Mission house
during the past year has been investi
gating the needs of new families; visit
ing and relieving the sick and poor,
meeting nine guilds weekly; superin
tending the training girls, cooking
school, and kitchengarten; gathering
persons together for Sunday and Fri
day evensong; preparing candidates for
confirmation and baptism; instructing
children in the church catechism (on an
average 200 are taught ; prayers, which
they are to use daily), and looking after
people, both in the guilds and In their
own homes, as to their spiritual duties.
Three classes are taught in the Sun
day school, and the German chapel is
cared for.
The aims of the church are distrib
uted from the Mission house, and bring
many visitors with requests of all
kinds, as. for example: For pensions,
groceries, coal shoes, old clothes, situ
ations for work, homes for orphaned
and deserted children,' doctors' visits,
medicine, money to cross the ferry,
food, furniture, "a couple of pennies to
pay the rent," money to keep up in
surance, tickets to. anywhere, assis
tance to find runaway husbands, rec
ommendations to boarding places, and
to secure free board, lodging, &c, &c,
&c. ■ y^-.^'','' '.:y
There are a large chapel and a mis
sion room where the services are held,
and guilds meet in the mission house
and rooms where the cooking school
and -kindergarten and kitchengarden
classes are held. . There are guilds with
various objects whose members range
in age from small • girls . to .the mothers
of families, a and i there are guilds for
the boys as well." The household ser
vice training school at the mission is
composed of eight little maidens, 'who
begin their training .when; they are nine
years of age, and . are -kept, ! if possible,
until they are sixteen. All this, with
the care of the seaside Summer home,
is. in charge of the three sisters at the
mission house. "'. " ;J :■
There are Sisters of St. John Baptist,
Sisters of the Good Shepherd, Sisters
of the Holy Communion. Sisters of St.
John, in Brooklyn, and others. The
community of St. Mary is the largest
order, and its work may be considered
It has been asked if the sisters are
allowed recreation in their busy lives.
They find it usually in their work, and
in" the amusements they prepare for the
children and older persons who come
under their care. y"y
"I once knew a sister who enjoyed
a rare dissipation," says a clergyman.
"She took a sail up the river as far as
Newberg and back, and she was per
fectly delighted." The Sisters of St.
Mary are allowed to visit their friends
for a month each year if they like.
They can always go to them in sick
ness. ■ '. .' ■vV.'-:- •-"•;...*:.:.:•'.
$5,000 IN FOUR DAYS.
■;- \^.,.....y ■■, ... -. ■■■■ : \\
Mrs. Hj'ifrove Received It Last Week
for a Bleyele Skirt.
The palm for a rapid and skillful busi
ness transaction must unquestionably
be awarded to the young and pretty
British matron, Mrs. Bygrave.
Mrs. Bygrave landed in America on
Friday, the last day of January, with
a bicycle skirt of her own invention for
sale. Within two hours of her arrival,
while still nervous and dizzy from her
long and earnest communion with Nep
tune. Mrs. Bygrave had not only
denned her new original skirt, but was
displaying its various merits to the
buyer of one of the largest sporting
goods establishments in the country.
Not satisfied . wi.th the offer he made
her, this self-confident, energetic young
woman went forth on Saturday in
search of greater financial inducements
to part with her ' cycling skirt. The
first establishment she visited offered
her a royalty on all sales made. But
Mrs. Bygrave had other ambitions and
walked away in her patent skirt to a
well-known firm on Twenty third street.
The wisdom of her, course was shown
when she promptly received an offer
of $5,000 from the ' Twenty-third street
dealers, who stipulated, of course, that
they should receive full assurance of a
patent from Washington. Lest there
should be any difficulty" in regard to
the condition of the patent, Mrs. By
grave on Monday started for Washing
ton, remained in the patent office two
hours, found the coast clear for launch
ing, as it were, the new cycling skirt,
and returned to New York on the after
noon train. She did not see the White
house. That was not her business in
Washington, she said. •
On Tuesday she visited the patent
office in New York to make sure that
there would be no delay in granting the
patent, visited the firm with whom she
was negotiating, received a check for
$500 with a note for the additional sum
of $4,500 so soon as the patent should be
received, and on Wednesday morning
sailed on the Majestic for her native
shore, the very neat $s,ooo 'transaction
having been accomplished in less than
four days. - _
Her cycling skirt is the most novel
invention in the matter of wheeling
skirts that has yet come before the
wheeling public. By a system of cords
worked through openings near the
waist line it can be made to fill three
different varieties of long-felt wants in
the bicycle woman.
• First of all, it is a trim, circular
walking skirt, close fitting over the
hips and measuring about three yards
at the hem. To adapt this skirt to the
"drop frame" bicycle* the middle of the
front breadth is pulled up by means of
a shirring string run down the front
seam between the lining and a narrow
casing. This string is. drawn through
an opening at the i waist, '-" where' it is
fastened by means of a clasp under a
neat pocket flap. The shirring reaches
a short distance above the knees, leav
ing the skirt neat and smooth fitting
about the hips and actually forming
two loose bags In which the knees
work up and down without the slight
est dragging and pulling at the waist
line, which is the sad -and daily ex
perience of the woman wearing the or
dinary skirts.
The third -possibility of the unique
garment is developed by working the
cords that run up the back seam and
find an outlet under a tailor-made flap
just over the hip. The pulling of these
two side cords converts the skirt into
a pair of neat and graceful bloomers
that Will permit the fair rider, in case
of an emergency, to mount a "diamond
frame" bicycle with all the grace and
agility of a masculine wheelman. By
the use of four square leads in the hem
of the skirt the instant the strings are
unclasped and the rider stands erect
the bloomers again become a walking
skirt. There is no pulling of the gar-
ment into shapes or adjusting of belt
necessary. ■ Simply press the clasps
and the act of dismounting does the
My Nesea Is a poet's dream,
A lyric sweet and true;
Her heart of gold's a ballad old
Whose music thrills me through.
My Nesca's eyes like twin stars rhyme
Beneath a brow of snow;
Her dimpled hand's a sonnet grand,
Her hair a silk rondeau.
Her rose-lit cheeks two love songs are
Faultless her tiny feet; *
In burning rhyme I say that time
Ne'er saw maid half so sweet.
. And yet, despite the fact that she
Is naught save poetry.
Despite her rhymes, I find at times ■
She's not adverse to me.
Going to Eat- tern WlMconsln.
Marshfield, Wausau, Antlgo, Oconto,
Marinette, New London, Green Bay)
Manitowoc. Sheboygan and Port
Washington take "The ' North- Western
Line"— C. St. P., M. &O. Ry. Trains
leave Minneapolis 7:30 a..m.; St. Paul
8:10 a.m. . '..; -.; *.--.; .*;>% :^j-y"
Mg|.; fl STABLE FfliTH fl SURE SUPPORT. 1^
ma Urn
%&&® REV RICHARD CORDLEY, » «-__ LAWRENCE, KAN, jjfe&gfl
(Copyright, 1896, Newspaper Sermon Asso
ciation, Boston. The .fight *^ of publication
granted to all, if crtg.lt be given this paper.)
"Hold fast the prjffsesifn of your faith."—
Hebrews x., 23. . feS" fT ■• .
The profession of our faith Is the
faith we have processed. We have
professed faith pod. .God Is the
foundation of all|tl|i|jg3. .Heal faith In
God supersedes , s'thing else." If we
really trust' in God bur trust will not
waver when * otliei^ things waver. Slt
rests on the deep* foundation which is
never disturbed.- We truly choose It.
We choose it for itfelf and for what
there is in it. It does not depend on
our circumstances, and it must not
fluctuate with our circumstances. Its
value Is greater when other things fail.
If you believe in. your friend you will
"not abandon him when he is in trou
ble, nor doubt him because something
has happened which you do not quite
understand. You do not. feel .uneasy
about the sun because it goes behind
a cloud, or sinks below the horizon at
night. ; : ;;'■' y J:;: ■.-..•* :y yy-'Vy
Friendship was made for the dark
hour, and it is not worth much if it
fail when adversity comes or doubt
overshadows a man. . It is at Just such
times we prize a true "friend who
stands by us when affairs grow awry.
Faith has its special value when we
cannot see. You do not count him a
wise man who should abandon his
spar because the waters were so wild
and land so far away. This is the very
time when he should cling to his spar.
You would not count him a wise man
who should wear his life j preserver
as he was parading the deck on a fine
afternoon, ' and then should leave It
below when the ship foundered and he
must take to the water. '* Yet " this is
just the way a great many Christians
regard their faith. They make much
of 'it . when everything ■is prosperous,
and then lose their hold upon it when
disaster overtakes them.
If you believe God only when He is
prospering you, your faith has very lit
tle virtue and very little value. It does
not mean much to trust when you can
see, if you doubt the moment sight
fails. What is the use of an anchor
if the cable breaks when the strain
comes? An anchor is intended to hold
the ship. It is not expected that it
will prevent the storm, or level the
waves, but it is expected that it will
hold the ship in place. It is not a
charm to still the seas, but a cable
to hold the ship. 'y A j life-preserver is
not intended to keep a man out of the
water, but to help him keep afloat when
he is in the water. -y The purpose of
faith is not to enable a man to escape
trials, but to enable him to bear them.
A family group were reading the
Scriptures in course at their morning
worship. They had come one morning
to the account of the crucifixion. As
they read, the story seemed wonderful
ly real and vivid. They read how Jesus
went in silence ; from Pilate's hall to
Calvary, bearing His cross till He could
bear it no longer, and then another
must bear it for Him. They read how
the soldiers took Him and nailed Him
'to the cruel cross, casting lots for. His
clothes; how the multitude gathered
about and mocked Him. , One said:
"Let the King of Israel come down
from the cross and we will believe Him;
thou that destroyest the temple and in
three "days buildest it again, save thy
self." Another replied: : "He saved
others, himself he cannot save," and
another said: "He trusted in God, let
God deliver him now if he wants him."
Another, more bold still, shouted to
the sufferer: "If thou be the son of
God come down from the cross." At
this point one of the group, a young
girl, who had followed the story with
intense interest, and growing indigna
tion, interrupted the reading and spoke
out impulsively: . V
"Why didn't He come down?"
There was no answer. There could
be none. I presume all of us have
asked the same question many and
many a time. Why didn't He come
down and confound His foes then
and there? Why didn't He come down
and end at once all controversy as to
His divine authority and power? It ;
would, indeed, have been \ a startling
display of power, but not half so di
vine as the patience with which He
endured until , "it was finished." Why
didn't He come down? Christ never
comes down from the cross, either in
His own person or in the person of His
disciples. They are all made to bear
until it is finished. . Have we not our
selves been where it seemed as if our
last desire had been refused? The
cup we prayed might pass has been
pressed to our lips. The heavens have
seemed brass above and the earth a
desert beneath us. We have gone into
a night that had stars, and waited
for a; morning that brought *no . sun.
In such an hour, the heart has cried,
"though the lips moved not, "'My God,
my God, why hast thou forsaken me?"
At such an hour it is an unspeakable
relief to - remember that "" He whom
God most surely loved, went down into
the same depths and uttered the same
cry. .. t V yj-y ■. . - '.
This has been the experience of them
all from the beginning unto now. Again
and again there has been no lightening
of the lot, no lifting of the load, no
turning away of the blow. The blow
comes, and comes hard, too. And we
are inclined to ask often: "What profit
is there if we pray unto Him?" "Made
perfect . through suffering" is not true
alone of the Captain of our Salvation,
it is true of His followers as well.
His people bear, about in . their . own
bodies the; dying of the Lord. ■'■ How
the noblest men have buffeted the tide
and been submerged at the last. How
the gentlest spirits have felt the grind
ing of a hard , life and never known
a respite. How the most beautiful char
acters have shone out of the darkest
experience. How the loveliest have
borne the longest- and not jat eventide
could it be said: "There was light."
Some English' poet, burdened wJth
this thought, has voiced what we all
have felt, in a verse which I found
floating somewhere a few ' years since:
Is it true. O Christ, in heaven
That the purest suffer most." —/v
And the strongest: wander farthest,
And most hopelessly: are lost? .
Is the mark of rank in nature ** -
v Capacity for pain? ,;.
* Does the anguish of the singer
Make the sweetness. of the strain? \
But in all this our elder, has been
before us. "We pass through no dark
er rooms than He went through be
fore." .. Our faith should .be - for the
time .that tests i\... However wild; the
storm, we trust the God who rules the
storm. No matter how long and dark
the night, we ti'ust the God of the
mo-*ning. As we. St^Prtd :in the middle
of the night, it mil- not add a single
star to the /sky, or, tfcrow a single j ray
of light' on • our path, . but v we endure
• * -. - * . . . ■ i - .■••-■ -. -\ _
the darkness and wait with vastly
greater patience and courage when we
know that the sun will rise again at 6
o'clock In the morning. .y ' -
;. As we stand in the middle of the
winter, and the air is' full of frost,
and the ground is buried in snow, and
the waters of lake and river "are locked
in Ice, it may not put ; a single leaf on
the tree, or a single blade of grass on
the plain, or a single flower on the
hillside, .'but it makes the winter vastly
more endurable, and makes our lines
vastly more cheerful, to. know that on
the 21st of March the sun will return
to this northern hemisphere, and be
gin to warm the earth for another sea
son. "Roses will come again," and "it
will be summer time by and by."
Faith may not banish our difficulties,
but it gives meaning to the contest
by which we overcome them. It does
not lift our loads for us, but we are
made strong to carry them. It does
not restore our losses, or fill our lonll
ness, or dry our tears; but losses and
loneliness and tears become less deso
late when we know that thoueh/
"weeping may endure for a night, joy
cometh in the morning," and "he that
goeth and weepeth, bearing precious
seed, shall doubtless come again with
rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with
"him." It may not steady the earth
when it quakes, but it steadies our
souls amid the rocking, when we know
that there are things which cannot;
be shaken, and that we receive a king
dom which cannot be moved. ".'• -'„■'; ."■;
. '■ . mm v — .'-.. . i
Innocent Little . Party Gets College
Boys and Maidens in Trouble.
Special to the Globe.
• NORTHFIELD, Minn., March 14.— A
sensational affair occurred in this city
last week, and is just. now coming to
light. It has caused no end of gossip
among society people and the faculty
of Carleton college Is stirred up to a
considerable extent. In fact, nothing
since the famous Northfield bank rob
bery by the James gang and Younger
brothers has created so much havoc in
this beautiful city. It appears that a
young man, who makes his headquar
ters in Minneapolis, but whose home
is in Northfield, came here some days
ago, and finding that his mother, who
is a widow, was spending the winter
elsewhere, conceived the idea that it
would be an excellent time to entertain j
a limited number of his young college
friends, both male and . female. Ac
cordingly, a quiet tip was given to a
fair maiden who attends Gridley hall
that he would throw open the doors of
his mother's palatial mansion, and he
would be pleased if she and a few of
her companions would accept his hos
pitality from 3 to 5 in the afternoon
on a certain day. Several young men
attending Carleton college were also
invited to be on hand. The afternoon
arrived, likewise the young ladies and
the young gentlemen arrived at the!
home where the festivities were to take
place. They did not go to the house
in a bunch, but went there by singles
and doubles. They passed the after
noon in a very enjoyable manner, in
dulging in those innocent pastimes
such as delight the hearts of young
people. About 5 pr m. the party. broke
up, after partaking of a dainty lunch .
served by the young host. Nothing
more was thought of the affair for sev
eral days. One fine morning the first
j of this week the preceptress of Gridley
hall received an anonymous letter from
a female who lives near the house in
which the party occurred, informing
the head of the young ladles' seminary
of the affair and giving the names of
the participants. The young ladies
were called before the preceptress, and
she delivered to them a severe lecture
and then proceeded to punish the al
leged criminals in various ways. One
-of the maidens was banished to a farm
near Red Wing, where she will remain
in seclusion for two weeks. Two oth
ers were sentenced to eat their meals
at the "second table," and will not be
permitted to associate with the other
young ladies in the school for the bal
ance of this term. One ,or two of the
girls were suspended from the institu
While the preceptress at Gridley hall
was dealing out sentences to the young
ladies, the faculty of Carleton college
was holding a red-hot session, discuss
ing the manner in which the guilty
young gentlemen should be dealt with.
The result was that Prof. Goodhue was
Instructed to take charge of the ' mat
ter. He did so, and now several young
fellows are attending other educational
institutions in the Northwest.. . . >.
While the faculty of Carleton college
and Gridley hall are trying to keep the
whole matter quiet, the affair is the
talk of the "town, and has caused a
great sensation.
To California on me "Maple Leaf."
Every Tuesday the Chicago Great Western
Railway (Maple Leaf Route) runs a Tourist
Sleeper via the Santa Fe Route to Los Angeles
—24 hours shorter than by any other -line!
Tickers at Maple Leaf Ticket Office, Robert
and Fifth streets. '
Hotel Porter Had a Jag, bat He
Wanted n Bigger One.
Special to the Globe.
HINCKLEY, Minn., March 14.— The
Henry house, a middle-class hotel,
looks as if a cyclone had struck it.
There is not a whole pane of glass
in the lower story, and the back and
.front doors and all doors down stairs
are battered and broken. It looks
as if it had been the - center of a, Cu
ban battle;- but" it is all the work of
one man, a Mr. Jonestutter, who,
in lucid intervals, worked for Mr.
Henry. On election day Mr. J. voted
several times • for both ' sides with
strict impartiality, and was .induced
by the flattered candidates to taste
the cup that jeers and does inebriate.
Under the magnetic influence of the'
wassail Mr. J. decided to draw his
winter wages and erect- a jag which
should pale the glories even of ..-: the
monumental debauches: of the Roman
emperors.: But- Mrs. Henry, who is a
large lady, with ideas of her own, ; ad
vanced him only a dollar on account;"
he 1 had the bad taste to argue the mat
ter, and Mrs. H. pitched him out doors
head first. Visions of his Welsh an
centry impelled Mr. J. to seek a bat
tle ax, but there being no battle ax
factory in Pine county, he was forced
to use any Old ax that was. handy, c and
advance upon " the fortress. Chanting :
a Welsh war song. he literally chopped j
his way •: through the house, from front
to back, and then around' each side;
plying his ax as he went, . frighten
ing women, and children, he made the
wood and glass fly until the populace
thought another fire was coming. In
fact, the local wit declared that he
had obtained axes to the house. Mr.
J. was ultimately, secured and put in
strong lodgings, "with gyves upon his
wrists," but he ' promises to move
Hinckley back a mile or two ; from the
railroad track when he is released.
Will add great wealth to the laboring
man, aggregating more than the out
put of the Alaska gold fields, while the
"Soo Line" is adding direct wealth to
each individual by ; making a rate of
$46 from St. Paul to Alaska! A folder
giving full particulars has just ap
peared. Write or call: on Ticket Agent,
398 Robert street. .. „ . -,
Highest of all in Leavening Power.— Latest U.S. Gov't Report - v
mm .../VT Tl+E FIT 1 MOUTH-...
St. Paul's.
"No, no; I wur a fool to hope or
think sic a thing. There be anither
man tha lovest; a yoonger man, a bet
ther man nor me. It will be Will Ben
son. Dunnot answer, lass, I know it.
Well, forgi' me what a' said. Good
bye, Jessie, and God bless thee, lass'
God bless thee!"
Thus Steve Armstrong, as he turned
away from the cottage where Jessie
Mac D'avitt lived; that cottage with
the gay flowers around its porch that
made the one bright patch of bright
ness in this dismal, dust-begrimed coun
try-side, blackened where by coal,
saddened by the lives of men whose
destiny had cast to delve and burrow
beneath the fair earth that other men
might grow rich.
But,* somehow, today Steve Arm
strong could see no brightness in any
thing. He had been : a fool, and no
mistake, this great, stalwart, broad
shouldered miner.' He was well past
forty; his hair becoming gray, and
sparse on. top— quite old to her. ■ ■....
He had been a bachelor all these
years. He might have known- it was
sheer madness now |to lavish all - the
weal ; of ; his \ great, manly heart on
pretty, . winsome Jessie | She - did . not
want an old fogy -like him. ,-' ..r- ~:
- At first she \ seemed^: to hear ' his tale
with gentle tenderness and pity. Bad,
indeed, must' be the ? woman • whdse
heart remains untouched by the love
of a true and honest man. Then a
word or two she dropped almost un
consciously had revealed the truth. Of
course Will Benson was the man. He
had been blind fool not to have seen
it long ago. - Will, was twenty years
younger than himself. On Sundays
Will was quite a masher (the Ameri
canism had grown into common use
even here). , Will was just the lad to
please the girl's fancy. * - :
'■;'■■:- ■„'■■'•■ - ' 11. -■• > - ' ■ ■-■■':
It was Saturday night. Bar and par
lor of the Miners' Arms was crowded
with men. Here the hard-earned money
flew merrily; money which should have
gone to wife and weans at home
money which might have been as a
tower of strength in fighting the bat
tles that labor and poverty always have
to fight.
Will Benson was there, in the midst
of a noisy throng, reeking of beer, spir
its and rauk tobacco. He had had a
great ? deal ";' too much drink already.
Suddenly- some one ' laid a hand upon
his arm. He turned tlpsily and encoun
tered the serious, steadfast gaze of
Steven Armstrong, who was not drunk
and had only just entered the public
house.;- "..-.- :- ■•--. " ' . ". • ■•'.-•- - * •-;
"Dunnot tak'; ony moor," the latter
whispered, gently but firmly. \ *
"Who told thee to interfere, maister
preacher?" v:. :;;--; : .:'>-.:'■ .■*..-! ;.y '-; ■-.-;■ &£ .'.
"No one. . I ask thee" not to, for the
sake o' girl who loves thee.";: .. ...
"Did .** she ::. tell ;: thee-; to coom .* pryin*
afther'me?"" .;'**;■: '■-'.'■"•.'.■" m^;: ;. y.^.^vyy
"Tha knowest better no that: *; I Ask
thee for her sake, and fur tha own
good." j--.v-L r ■•, ;■--. :.-.::-;.• •':■;.■..•••.*.. *r-.
"Bah! I've -heerd yond' .* stuff fro' t'
blue ribbon bon -fowk.'afore now." .'■'.
"A' be none o' them. " I hold that a
chap as canna' tak' a dlass or two an*
stop when he ha' gotten enough is na
worthy o' bein' called a mon. I believe
in total abstinence na moor nor I do in
drunkards." „„....:,..
"Then what t'devir-be'est jawin'to
me about?" the young man said fiercely.
"I ask thee not t' spend all t' neet
here. Think o' her who'st o' be tha
wife. These chaps do thee no good.
They'll mak' thee spend ha brass, and
when 'tis all gone, they'll only laugh at
thee." .--..- . i
"Shew me t' mon as'll laugh at me!
Ye daren't! It's tha thyself as are doin'
it. Come outside, then, and we'll see
who'st t' best mon!"
"I winna fight wi' — and certainly
not now," Armstrong answered, slowly
and with dignity; it was not the re
traction of a coward. His well-meant
remonstrances^ had proved worse than
useless, and from that time those two
men felt each other to be rivals.
' Horror and consternation are spead
ing : far and wide through the grimy
Lancashire town. A • terrible explo
sion has just been heard. They know
only too well what that means, and
the poor women, both young and old,'
are rushing wild and terror-stricken
to the pit's mouth. " . '
Down in the "workings" the excite
ment is 'at its' height. Men are running
to the bottom of the shaft, running
for their lives, for the noxious after
damp is choking them and they know
only too • well', that many of them are
destined never to see the light of day
again. The cage is going up and down
again as quickly as may be, but it will
only hold a limited number. They
must patiently * wait their turn, and
that turn may mean life or death.
"There, bo room for one moor," the
miners shout. "Come along, Steve
Armstrong; It 'be tha turn." y^ \
But he does not move. -
."No," he answers, "I be old a* alone.
Here's a young .fellow, as a gotten a
mlther; let un go instead this time."
It was Bill Benson who stood by
his side.
"You. Armstrong! You mak' room
for me!" he exclaimed.
"What dost suppose ad do? A' fight
fair when a' want to fight."
"You do this for ma sake?"
■ "Not for thine, mon; for. her! Go!"
•"' The words were few— there was not
time for more— but they had a rough,
heroic dignity about . them. Benson
'stepped into the cage without another
word, the signal .was . given and they
went up toward the light '*-\ and \ air
above.. >; :'£.* "
- From I those about the pit's ■ mouth * a
ringing cheer arose as the cage
reached" the surface. They knew that
so many, at least, of their mates were
safe, and some of the women went
away with hearts .full : of joy., _ and
thankfulness. ,The. word went quickly
round that Steve Armstrong had ; sent
up Will Benson"', instead 1^ of "himself.
Pretty Jessie MacDavitt was there.
When she heard the whisper- she un
derstood. " A woman's instinct is much
the same after all, whether she -be a
princess or only a rough miner's lass.
Benson came toward - her, but she
seemed hardly to notice him. She
was waiting for some one else. "
,r The cage was let : down again. Some
anxious . minutes ; followed that seemed
like hours. - : Once :, more it appeared
with its load of men. Jessie pressed
eagerly forward. Great heavens! he
whom she sought was not there! Sev
eral voices asked after him— Jessie
dared not trust herself to do so and
then came the appalling answer: ;
''Choke-damp ha' taken him and bit
wall fallen in ower him!" -."
; Suddenly a woman's voice rang out
Jessie MacDavitt's:
-."Then 1 he be 1' danger— dying dead
mayhap! .He gave his life forgone
o'ye. Aren't ye men?. Are none o' ye v
goin' to save un? Then I wull!"
She pressed forward toward the pit,
but a dozen strong arms restrained her :
and one old fellow said:
"Keep back, lass! It'll be death to
go down there for nigh an hour yet.,
This be no place for women fowk."
She heeded not and, breaking away
from them, entered the cage. Two or
three men followed her, ashamed to
think that a girl should be braver than
they, and down they went from the
lights into the darkness, down among
the noxious, deadly gasses— to
the unknown.- ...
A long, long time now elapsed, or so
it seemed to the anxious watchers.
Two or three cages full of miners,
came up, but they were not among
them. Great heavens! was it possible I
that all had perished in the heroic at
The news that Jessie had gone be—
low reached her mother, and Mrs. Mac-
Davitt, with her sleeves tucked up,
fresh from the washtub, her cheeks,
pale as death, her eyes streaming,
rushed madly to the spot.
Even at that moment the cage was*
coming up again. A deafening, cheer
rans out, loud and long, upon the*
murky air. It was . they— they at last, .
thank God! But , were they alive?'
Two inanimate forms were lying "down*
Upon the black, dusky bank— the forms*
of Jessie MacDavitt and Steven Arm
strong. -■*-'. .-y-.-,, ;.y.v. i : ■„-^-.'<- ;/:-_. = ...- ;
yy- ■-;.../. '^.-y y IV. r. -C**~t "-. . .- '.
y Jessie -MacDavitt sat all alone, at'
work in the little front parlor of her
mother's cottage.' She was quite well!
again now, but her recovery from the
effects of her adventure in the mine
had been slow and painful. -" -
There was a knock at the door. She"
called out: "Come. in!" in sweet
cheery tones. It was Steven Arm
strong who entered the apartment.
She looked -up, surprised; and colored i'
up to her very brow as she rose to
greet him. She had not seen him since [
that fearful day; perhaps this was tar
reason of her confusoin. He did not*
wear his working, nor yet his '.'shift-/
in' " clothes, but was • habited in a
tweed suit, and wide awake. - How
brave and noble he looked, albeit a.
trifle pale just now! ' ' -
"Mr. Armstrong," she said, "I am so
glad to see you fettle again. I haven't
seen you sinee — — — " -
-"Not since then— no; it wur churlish,
o me not to coom an' thank
thee only— only there be nae thanks i
possible for sic things as that. Oh,
Jessie, why didst do it; why didst risk"
tha life?" ; -J, -•'■.:■:. ;,.\* A
"Because you gave your r change 6"
life to him, ".she answered simply, but
with an unsteady tremor in her- voice..
"Now I ha' come to bid ' thee f good
by," Armstrong said, like a man who
has an unpleasant duty to perform,
and wants to 'get it over quickly. "A'
be goin' away."
"Goin' away!" she echoed. "Where
"Reet fori vver. To America
or Australy— a' hardly know where yet.
A' be tired o' t' life here. But remem
ber,, if there be ivver ony thing. I can do
.for- thee, a' wull. Tha shalt know
.where..l -go-to, and if tha should ivver
want a friend or a helpin' hand, all
come to thee. if 'twere half across t'
•world ! If a' han't said" mooch, remem- -
ber a' know that a' can nivver hope to
pay ma' debt to thee!" ":
: "Oh, dunnot talk like that; please
dunnot talk about it— l— l hadn't j an
idea you were thinkin' o' goin' away— ■.
it's— ye've took me so sudden like— l— .
dunnot know what to say.".:-: ■.-. •• ci!<
"Say, Jess, ma. lass! Just say: "Good
by, and God bless . thee, -Steve-Arm- £
strong, or soom sic words as all be
able to tak' 'wi' me. an' cherish i' mem
ory o' thee when a' be far away."
"God bless thee, Steve Armstrong,
wi' all ma heart, but not good-by!" Jes
sie said, in a voice that was even more
unsteady with emotion than before.
"Ah, dunnot it mun be, I say— tha
would not torture me?"
"Wouldn't that stay, Steve, if a' were
to ask ye?" - ■
"There's naething I wouldna do that
you bid me — excep' that— that,
why a' be going fro' thee!" .
"Fro' me?"
"Surely, a' needna tell thee all over
again. A' wish thee an' tha husband
well, wi' all ma heart— but I canna
■ "Ye said just now ye'd do anything
for me," Jessie answered, clasping her
hands; and the bright color mantled in.
her cheek hotter and redder than ever -
—such a coy, pretty blush! They were
hard words for a girl to speak; but
she had made up her mind all at once,
and felt impelled to go on. "Ye said ye
nivver could hope to repay yer debt to
me. Suppose I show ye t* way? Stay
here for ma sake, dunnot ye un
derstand?— make me have to
say ony moor "
"What madness is this? And t' mon i
tha'rt plighted to?" ■
"We are no plighted "now. He be
gone reet away. Heven't ye* heerd?"
"No; I hay na been mooch among t'
chaps o* late."
"It was a small thing that parted us;
something I asked un to give up for
my sake—only t 'drink. But he said '
no; no wench should ivver mak' a milk
sop o' him. Then a' cam' to compare
ye both togither; he, who wouldn't even
do that mooch; you, who, would ha'
given yer life for ma' sake. A' thing t'
were at t' pit mouth t' thought first
came to me. A weighed both i' scales,
and then a' knew which way ma heart
had gone!". -.
And that was where she nestled now
her pretty head; to that brave heart
which was to be her home forever
more. *'■'•'
.- '.'..... 'mm ■ — ■ ■
Mitchell Business Man Attempts Sul
,y,,'> 1- eide — Affairs in a Tangle,
Special to the Globe. t
MITCHELL, S. D., March 14.— W.
H. Knowles, the* prominent merchant
who attempted .suicide this morning
by shooting himself through the head.
Is still alive, but cannot recover. It
was thought at first that two shots
were fired, but doctors decided that
one forty-four-caliber ball passed clear
through the head. He left a note,, jf
giving as a reason, for his rash act
that he was afraid of losing • his rea- |
son and saying he preferred death to
insanity. It was learned later that?
his financial affairs were In very
strained circumstances, -'and his fine
grocery store is now in charge of the'
sheriff. He has not regained' conscious- .
ness, and can . live but a few hours.
Lem Mallery, the . credit ' man of a.
Sioux City wholesale house, : said . there :
was no excuse as far as financial mat
ters were concerned. -■ "I . have -sold}
him goods for fourteen years. He j.
was perfectly ; honest, and would not :
have . been crowded." .
mm ■__ — _ ■■"
No other hotel in the Northwest pro- h
vides so many modern accommodations :
of table and European or
American plan choice evening dinners,
fine cafe, and -.. service as Hotel ■ Met- ; 1

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