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HomeMy WebLinkAboutLucknow Sentinel, 1892-09-09, Page 3:alis ,a. se _.�.,:7ett Z.14: ... •.:.e r,.t'ivas -...w .. e -- Y o' When the Train Comes I. Well, yes, I ca'culate it is a little quiet here Ter one -who's been about'tlie world an'travele fer an' near ; But, mebby .cause I never lived no othe The town seems 'bout as lively as a good town orter be. We go about our bizness in a quiet sort o' way. Ner thinkin' of the outside world, exceptin' wnnst a day We gather at the deepo, where we laff- an' talk an' spin Our yarns an' watch the people when the train comes in. Si Jenkins, he's the justice of the peace, he allers spends His money fora paper which he glances through an' lends To some the other fellers, an' we all take turns an' chat, An' each one tells what he'd do if he was this or that. An' in a quiet sort o' way, • afore a tours gone, We.it a purty good idea o' what's a goin' on. Aad', gives us Iota to think about until we meet agin 'f'h follerin' tomorrer when the train comes in, When I git lonesome like I set around the bar- ber shop Er corner groc ry, where I talk about the growin' crop 'Ith fellers from the country ; 'nif the sun an' out too hot We go to pitchin' hoss-shoes in Jed Thompson' vacant lot Behind the livery stable ; an' before the game is done Ez like ez not some feller '11 say his nag kin clean outrun The other feller'r, an' they take 'em out and have a spin But s 11 git back in town after the train comes in. I see it in the papers 'at some folks, when sum- mer's here, Pack up their trunks an' journey to the sea- shore ever' year To keep from gettin' sunstruck ; I've a better way 'en that: Pet when it's hot I put a cabbage leaf inside my hat An' go about my biziness Jest as though it wasn't warm— Fact le I ain't doin' much since I moved off my farm. An' folks as loves the outside world, if they've a mind to, kin See all theyorter of it when the train comes in. An' yit I like excitement an' ther's nothin' suits me more ' 'N to git three other fellers, so's tomake a even four 'At knows the game jilt to a " T," an' spend a half aday In some good place a lightin' out a batt.e at croquet. There's Tubbs who tends the post -office, an' old Doc Smith an' me An' Uncle Perry Louden—it'd do you good to see Us fellers maul them balls aroun'; we meet time an' agin An' play an' play an' play until the train comes m. An' take it all in all I bet you'd have to look aroun' A good long while afore you'd find a nicerlittle town 'An. this'n'is. The people live a quiet sort o' life, Not carin' much about the world 'ith all its woe an' strife, An' here I mean to spend my days, an' when reach the end III say God bless ye!" an' " Good-bye !" to ever' faithful friend ; An' when they fuller me to where they ain't no care ner sin I'll meet'em at the deepo when the train come in. —Waterman Nixon. • A HISSING SON'S VOICE. It Was Heard in the Prison Choir and Shocked His Friends.. " I am going to join the army, and will be gone three years." . Thus wrote a young man to his dear old mother and sisters at home. The boy was under sentence to the State Prison when he wrote the letter that he supposed would quiet all inquiry as to his,. whereabouts. He hid been found guilty of forgery, and the Judge in pro- nouncing sentence upon him gave him three years at hard labor, says the Salem (Ore.) Statesman. This was several months ago, and the young man is by this time well acquainted with the mon- otonous routine of life in the Oregon State Penitentiary. On Sunday' after- noon a couple of young ladies, . sisters, new arrivals in Salem, visited the prison. They arrived too late to be admitted to the services, but were given seats in the wait- ing -room. At the first sound from the choir they were interested, but as the music of the song filled the chapel and resounded throughout the corridors they recognized a familiar sound in a sweet-toeed voice that carried the air. They advanced nearer to the chapel, impelled by they knew not what, and glancing through the barred doors recognized among the singers, wearing the stripes, the absent brother who they believed was serving his country in the arinyeeeTheyecognition was mutual. And it was Pitiful. The shock was more than the delicate nerves of the young women could bear. But it is only one incident of the many. The prison is fill of sad romances and expectations that are never, realized. He Could Not Get Away. A weary old man dropped with a sigh into a seat in the street car. At the other end three or four young men were talking and laughing. " They have just returned from their va- cation," said the tired man to his next neighbor. " They seem to have enjoyed it." " Yes, they seem to. They work in the same store that I do." "Ah?" "Yes. They have all been away now— everybody in the store—clerks, book- keepers and heada of departments, even the cash boys and the wrapping men and the port re. Everybody has had his vacation— but e." " _but you Y " Yea-" " Well, I should think your employer would let you off too." The old man shook his head. " What's the reason he won't ?" " Well," replied the weary man, with another sigh, " you see, I'm the proprietor. myself."— William Henry Siriter inHarper' s• Bazar. 'jo hcep Flowers Fresh. Flowers may be kept fresh for a long time by putting a pinch of soda into the water in which they are held. They should not be gathered while the stn is shining upon them, but early in the morning or after the sun has been down for an hour. To revive wilted flowers plunge the stems to about one•third of their length into boiling water. This will drive the sap back into the flowere, causing them to become fresh. Then cut away the third of the stem which has been heated and place the flowers in ccld water. • " THE IMPERIAL DRAGON." George Lawrence Abandoned Poetry and -Married' Fits- Grid° in Eevenee. THE combination of circumstan- ces that served to bring Miss Damon to L— moneyless but determined was known to nobody. All that anyone knew of her was imparted by a brief statement made by the editor of the Dispatch to the effect that on a certain blustering afternoon in January she had walked into the office and asked for employ- ment. He had declined her services with thanks, but she came again and again, until one day she found a vacant desk, sat down at it and had been there ever since. She wrote two or three caustic articles, struck at one or two local atrocities, and in a little while made an enviable reputation for bitterness and cynicism. Her name got out, and after that everything that ap- peared in the paper was unhesitatingly set down to her credit. She was not known outside of the office, but the impressions that prevailed concern- ing her were not flattering. It was gener- ally agreed that she knew too much to be young, was too cynical to be agreeable, and there was a theory current among the paper's readers that she'had been crossed in love and disappointed in her literary aspira- tions. She did 'her work in the daytime and was little more than a myth to the men who spent their nights in journalistic harness. They were frequently questioned about her, and they generally answered all queries by the broad but meaning statement that she did not " run with the gang." Soon after she began her work in her new spfiere a book of verses appeared, written by a gentleman of L—, George Lawrence. Copies were sent to all the papers, and one of these fell into the hands of Miss Damon. She prefaced her criticism with the remark that the verses were not uniformly bad, bat ranged from bad to very bad, and thus mereilesslyimpaled the author to the extent of three-quarters of a column. Lawrence had never forgiven her. He referred to her ever afterwards as " The Dragon " and the ' I•nperial Dragon." The name seemed appropriate and it was generally adopted. The criticised versifier experienced some satisfaction at having thus baptized her with indignation, bat he by no means considered himself avenged, and at the mere mention of her name his muscles grew rigid and every artery throbbed with a wild desire for ven- geance. Being' clever with a pencil, he made a sketch of her which embodied the popular impression that she was a shrewish person of uncertain age, and it was a source of endless amusement to himself andfriends. It must be confessed that Miss Damon's was not the only adverse criticism, and Law- rence was a good deal depressed, but not wholly subdued. He did not intend to be snuffed out in this summary fashion, how- everand though for a time he attempted nothing in a literary way, he was casting about for a fresh motive, resolved at no dis- tant date to make another effort. " The Dragon " had recommended prose ; he would try prose. In the meantime summer had come and Lawrence was to spend several months with some friends in California. When he ,returned he would go to work in earnest. It was a glorious day, bright and cool, though it was the middle of July ; the sun was just rising over the eastern rim of the cap -shaped valley, a luminous mist shining from pink to purple was rolling away from Pike's Peak, and the bite of sky snowing between the serrated ridges opposite were deeply blue. Lawrence, on his way to California, had stopped to spend a day at Manitou. He had reached the springs the evening before, and was eating his breakfast this bright morning in the great Sahara of a dining - room when the 1 waiter came in to announce the carriage he had ordered for the day. For the last half hour the gallery in front of the hotel had been thronged with tourists ready 'tobegin the day's sightseeing, and the double line of vehicles drawn up outside were being loaded with all possible despatch. As Lawrence emerged from the dining -room the last waggon drove np to the door, and a lady was on the point of getting in when the driver said : "Beg your pardon, ma'am, but this car- riage is for the gentleman." " But I ordered a carriage for this morn- ing." " Your order was too late. They were all engaged. This was the last one in the stables. I can give yon one to- morrow." " I shall not be here to -morrow." " Maybe the gentleman's going to stay over a day or two and would just as soon drive to -morrow," suggested the driver." By this time Lawrence had come up. " If yon can give me a horse and saddle it will answer my purpose just as well," he said. " I haven't got a horse." " As I leave to -morrow on the early train," said Lawrence, " I can not con- veniently postpone my drive. _ But we are probably going in the same direction, and I should be delighted to accommodate you with a seat in the vehicle." - There was nothing else to be done. "She accepted with thanks. Lawrence handed Iher into the carriage and thought as their eyes met that she was not . an unpromising companion. He was a gregarious animal. He hated being alone, especially in a crowd, and a chance acquaintance was not to be despised. He handea her his card. She lookedat the name, raised her brows slightly, dropped the card into her handbag and then, looking squarely at him, said : -4. My name is Vincent." ' He called her Mies Vincent at a ven- ftare. She did not correct himand they interest to discussing the points of on 1 the way. It was a delightful drive, and neither t regretted the circnmatatice that brought them together. They dined at the same table, finished up the nights in the after- noon, and, getting in rather late, took supper tete-a-tete in a corner of the de - deserted dining -room. That evening the rooms were cleared for a ball. He met her at the door as she was about to enter the ball -room She wore a dress of black lace with a eleecless corsage that displayed a pair of superb arms and a syn' oth white neck. • The sharp contrapt of her hair and dress with the singularly fair complexion made her look like a black and white cameo and be thought as he stood there looking past her into the ball -room, that no carvinconld be more claeista t iiin'heF profile. " Shall we go in there ?" she asked. " It seems dreadfully warm and crowded." " Then suppose we stay here." " I believe it is much pleasanter here," she answered. The ball -room was full of promenaders. They passed out on the veranda and sat talking in the moonlight. Occasionally they would return and beguile the intervals, waltzing when the music permitted, until the crowd of dancers began to thin and the parlor clock struck one. " I really must go now," said Miss Vin- cent rising. "There is 1 o'clock, and I must leave at 8. Good -night." -` Which way do j ou go to -morrow ? " asked Lawrence. " Emit. I must beat home by the 20th." " And where is home ?" • She gave the name of a village about fifty miles distant from the town where he lived. " I'll sees you in the morning," he said. " I believe we leave this place on the same train, so I Won't say. good -by. And now, just one more dance—the last." Down the long gallery they • floated into the shadow and out into the light, his clasp gradually tightening as they went, her face against his shoulder, and bis head bent for- ward until his cheek touched her hair. The music ceased suddenly, but the arm about her waist did not relax. She gave a furtive, upward glance, then dropped her eyes. With a swift movement of his left hand he drew her arm up until it encircled his neck, leaned forward, and kissed her. She darted away like a swallow, and he caught a last glimpse of her as she turned a corner of the stairway. When Lawrence came down to breakfast next morning it was nearly 9 o'clock. The early train had gone. So had Miss Vin- cent. It was summer again. The work Law- rence contemplated a year ago was 'fin- ished. He had acted on the suggestion of his critic • hi had turned Pegasus out to graze and given his attention to prose. The result was a novel=the story of a day—called " En Route," which he as- sured his friends was .anggested by an in- cident of his Western trip. The book had been published, and the reviewers to use his own phrase bad " let him down easy," and he was much surprised to find himself gently and affably treated by the Dispatch. The writer was not surprised to find so indifferent a poet capable of pro- ducing a tale so pleasing and graceful, so full of felicitous deieription, so fresh and unhackneyed. It was' understood that the young man was under a solemn promise never again to attempt verse, and, in consideration of this assurance and the promise of success held out by the latter 'work, it was but just that the public should extinguish its resentment and take the author to a forgiving and indulgent bosom. There followed a criticism in which the claims of the book were seriously treated, and by the time Lawrence had finished the perusal he was thinking that, after all, he might have been a little too fierce in hie resentment upon a previous occasion. There arose within him a desire to make amends in some way for his own derision of this person, who, however hard upon him at first, was clearly without malice in the matter, and had no doubt in each instance expresiled an honest conviction. He wrote a note in which he acknowledged the courtesy and asked leave to call and thank the writer in person. He had a few copies that had been handsomely bound, intended as souvenirs for -his friends. He would be most happy to present one as a token of his .appreciation. The reply to his friendly overture was written upon a card, across the upper left- hand corner of which was the day of the week in gilt lettering ; on the opposite corner was a pen -and -ink . sketch of St- Goorge in the act of vanquishing the dragon. Below was written " Miss Damon will be at home to Mr. Lawrence this evening at 8 o'clock, 705 West Broadway." This sketch, despite the limited space it occupied, was spirited and indicated a knowledge of her unflattering sobriquet. As he looked up at his own sketch upon the wall he was conscious of a strong impulse to destroy it. At 8 o'clock that evening Lawrence, , bearing his peace offering coquettishly bound in gilt and morocco, rung Miss Damon's bell. He was ushered into the parlor, and in a few moments he heard a rustling of drapery behind him. As " he arose he encountered a slender figure in a toilet of black lace. " Miss Vincent," he said exultantly, " I have been looking for you everywhere. I have written you innumerable letters, and I have been four times to that horrid hole of a town where you said you lived- • Why did you deceive me so cruelly.?" " Why did I deceive you ? Well, I did not think it world add anything to your pleaeure just then to know the truth." A horrible presentment seized him. " Then—then—your name—is not Vin- cent ?" • "Yea ; Alice Vincent -Damon." " Yon know me, of course ?-' he faltered. " Yes." " Don't yon think yon have taken rather a mean advantage of me ?" " No ; I think the truth . would have spoiled a very pleasant day." In the conversation that followed the purpose of the visit was .veil nigh forgotten, and the souvenir played a very incon- spicuous part in the diversion of the evening. A week or two later, as Lawrence was sitting in his room, hia friend Harrison carpe in. took a seat on the opposite side of the table and, after gazing at his host for some time with a most lugubrious expres- sion, said : "Old man, is this all true that I hear about you ?? " "'What do you hear ?" " That yon have actually caught the dragon ?" Lawrence laughed. " What does it mean ? " persisted Har- rison. " It means that at last loam about to take my revenge. I intend to marry her." Lawrence 'made this announcement with dramatic intensity, and Harrison, who had arisen, dropped limply into a chair. After wall and asked pathetically : " I say, Lawrence, does she look like that ? " Lawrence reversed a photograph that was standing on the mantel -piece with its face to the wall; and; Iioldmg it-beforeHarrison, said : " She looks like that, and she is the heroine of my story."— Waverley dfagazine. - Why Genevieve Codd Could Not Marry Mr. Fish. " It can never be, Mr. Fish," she said, trying to be firm, although the tears were welling up in her forget-me-not eyes. " Why not, Genevieve ? " he asked, bend- ing toward her until she could distinctly hear him swallow the lump that had risen in his throat at her words. " Don't yon love me any more ? " " Yes, yes ; I love you. Believe me: I love you," she sobbed, hastily drawing her hand from his. " Tell me !" he asked with anguish, " have you learned to love another ?" " No!" she cried. " Oh, how could you doubt me?" " Well, them, why have you changed ?" " It-is—it is—oh, how can I say it?" she jerked out. " It is—it is—your name." " My name?" he echoed. "It is among the 400 as well as yours, Miss Codd." " You wrong me. You wrong me greatly," she sobbed, drawing off his ring and stand- ing before him in all her stateliness. " I mean I can never be yours, because it would break mamma's heart to sink the family name, and how can I become Mrs. Codd- Fieh ?"—J . Y. Sun. Some Notable Recipes. • Clear soup --Take two pints of water, wash them thoroughly on both sides, pour into a dish or something, and stir around in the kitchen until tired. Plum pie.—Get some dough,. hammer out a front and back breadth. Line a dish with Silesia put in a veneering of dough, fill the dish with cough, drops, put on the top crust, feather -stitch around the edges and bake in a tinker's furnace. Pound cake.—Mix np some flour and things, put them into a dish, bake for a while, then screw in the handle and pound, Stomach cake.—Line a small boy with green apples and cucumbers. ' This can be prepared at short notice. Calf's foot jelly.—Get trusted for a calf —cut off the calf, which can be used for making hash or chicken salad ; wash the feet, thicken with gine; add a few molasses, strain through a cane -seated chair, pour it into a binebowl with red pictures on it and set in the shade to get tough. Icre cream.—Dry a piece of ice in the sun, stir in some cold cream or vaseline, fan it until it freezes, garnish with Christmas greens. This should be served with the soup. The Culinary Department. When scaling fish hold them under water in a pan ; then the scales will not fly in your face, but will fall to the bottom, and when the water is poured from them they are ready to turn into the slop pail or com- post heap. Five or eta quarte of biscuit flour can be prepared at a time by taking one teaspoon- ful of soda and two of cream of tartar, or three of baking powder to every quart of flour, sifting it thoroughly three times ; then put away for use. Onions are improved bysoaking in warm salt water an hour or so before cooking, as this removes some of the rank flavor. They cook tender much quicker if sliced in rings instead of splitting. If they are peeled and sliced with hands under water some " idle tears" may be avoided: Midsummer Bargains. " In these midsummer days there will be found many real bargains in the shops," said a woman who is an excellent manager. " I never buy things in season, and in that way I get the best at an extremely low price. And some of the best bargains are at the high-class shops.. " Everything in their assortment • is choice, and if yon are content to take a simple, goody bonnet, garment or pattern of dress goodeyou will have an article that will be a pleasure as long as it lasts. My little girl needed a new reefer this spring. In the first of the season good ones were from $6 to $9 ; the marking -down process goes on through the weeks, and yesterday I came in from wherewe are staying for the summer and bought a beauty for $1.50." A Boman Use of Lemons. Did you ever bear of the Roman cure for malaria ? I would advise a judicious preparation for anathema when about to administer the dose ; it will give the mar- ble Venus a wry face, but is claimed to have cured stubborn cases. Allow one pint of water to one lemon—four lemons make sufficient for many a dose ; cat up the lemons' rind, pulp and all, in the water and boil until the whole is reduced to one pint ; a teaspoonful before each meal is the dose. On hot mornings, when appetite fails and the sight of food disgusts one, try sliced lemons for breakfast. Peel carefully, remove every particle of pith, slice down instead of across into a deep glass saucer and strew liberally with sugar. Do not, I pray, be induced at this season of the year to save your lemons. Why Does She Wear a Veil ' Veils are generally considered an improve- ment to even a pretty woman's looks, though this is not always the case, as, any (hie may observe for himself, particularly during the warm weather, when dining out of doors is the fashion. A veil wrinkled up on the nose or forehead is very sure to be anything but an improvement. It should either he taken off or shortened, so that the edge will .reach just to the tip of the nose. Thus the month will be left free without entirely relinquishing this slight protection from the ravages of•daylight. It will also be found well to allow the veil to wrinkle a little on the ,throat when wearing a hat without strings and a low•cut body. A veil which wrinkles in this manner, or one with a border,. will prove a kind of connecting link between the head and shoulders that otherwise would look rather cut in two. Some summer cottagera splurge because they want to show how much money they have, but a good many more splurge be - cense it is the only way to get credit at the a pause he pointed to the sketch on the -grocery. COBTISG ,BY RULE. now Lovemaking and Marriage Is Reg*. hated in the S. A. The vows a would-be officer of he vation rimy is required to sign before being appointed to an office are sweeping in character, pledging absolute submission to the will of the commissioner in charge. Among the questions to be answered are these : Are you courting ? Do you understand that you will not be allowed to marry until tiwo years after your appointment as an officer, and that the lowest rank of an officer is lieutenant ? Note, a cadet is NOT an officer. If you are not courting, do yon pledge yourself to abstain from anything of the kind for at least tsyelve months after your appointment as :an officer '- Do you pledge yourself not to carry on courtship with anyone at the station to which you are at the time appointed ? Do you pledge yourself never to com- mence, or allow to commence, or break off anything of the sort, without first inform- ing the commissioner of your intention to do so ? Do you pledge yourself never to marry anyone marriage wth whom would take you out of the Army altogether ? The fifth clause is heavily underlined in the printed regular;one. This is part of the declaration to which the officer is regni, ed to su'iscribe " I hereby declar e that I will never, on any consideration, do anything calculated to injure the Salvation Army,and especially, that I will never, without first having ob- tained the consent of the Commissioner, take any part in opening any place for religious services, or in carrying on services, in any place within three miles of any then existing station of the Army, under penalty of forfeiting 5250 to the Commissioner for the benefit of the Army, if I should in any way prove unfaithful to thiesolemn pledge." •ABOUT SHOES. Some Pointers Which- Conduce to Hen's Comfort. There are people who think that jest be- cause they fancy a certain shaped shoe they can wear it. Never was there a greater mistake. People's feet are just as charac- teristic as their figures and must be dressed with as mach discretion if the best effect is to be produced. A quarter -inch in the length of the vamp will make all the difference between comfort and discomfort, right and wrong proportion. A foot, for instance, with a low instep must have the vamp ar- ranged so as to give the appearance of height, must have the sole so curved and arched as to make a spring and must have a higher' heel to attain the same end. Long feet need one style of tip, short ones another. . The salient or characteristic points of the foot must be followed in the lines of the shoe if harmony is to be attained, and the very best thing a world -be buyer can do is to select a shoemaker with a good reputation and leave the matter entirely in his hands. It stands to reason that a man who .makes the study of feet his daily business must know more about them than you do. He can see at a glance what they need and why the last shoes have been unsatisfactory. Let him diagnose the case just as you world the doctor ; follow out his advice for once and the chances are you will be more com- fortably and satisfactorily shod than if yon had selected a pair of shoes because they pleased you in the show window,, says the New York Press.—Chicago News. Onions as Medicine. The sweet Italian, or the Bermuda' onions, are the ones to be eaten au naturel, the flavor being much more delicate than the common ,varieties. But onions are really sweeteners of the breath after the local effects have passed away, as they correct stomach disorders and carry off the accumulated poison of the system. They provide a blood purifier that all may freely use, and do 'perfect work in constipation troubles. As a vermifuge the onion cannot be . surpassed, end,' eaten raw, will often check a violent cold in the head. One small onion eaten every night before re- tiring is a well-known doctor's prescription for numerousaffections of the head, and is highly recommended for sleeplessness ; it acts on the nerves in a soothing way, with- out the iniurions effects of the drugs so often applied. The heart of an onion, heated and placed in the ear, will often re- lieve the agony of earache,while the syrup procured from sprinkling a sliced onion with sugar and baking in the oven, will work wonders in a "croupy " child. interesting. It was decided that Mr. Wright must administer a stern lecture to hia 4 year-old daughter Florence. The little girl had been naughty, but she did not seem to appreciate the fact, and Mr. Wright ,re- luctantly undertook "scolding." He hated to make the tender little heart ache and to see the dear little child cry, but he forced himself to speak judicionsiy and severely. He recounted her misdeeds and explained the whys and wherefores of his stern rebuke. Mrs. Wright sat by, looking duly impressed. Finally Mr. ,•Wright paused for breath, and also to hear the small culprit acknow- ledge her error. Florence turned it face beaming with admiration, to her mother, and said, innocently : " Isn't papa interesting ? " — Youth's Companion; Housekeepers' Notes. Keep flowers fresh by putting a pinch of soda in the water. Boil the clothesline, and it will not " kink," as a new rope is apt to do. Soda is the hest thing for cleaning tin- ware ; apply with a damp cloth and rub well, then wipe dry. Prick potatoes before baking, so that the air can escape ; this will prevent them bursting in the oven. For sore throat, heat the white of an egg stili with all the sugar it will hold and the juice of one lemon. Grease spots that have burned and be- come hard 'on the stove, may be removed by a few drops of kerosene oil,on the cloth be- fore rubbing them. A Gentle hint. L; ncle .Tack —NY hat will you do when yon get to be a man? Little .lack—I'll give all the boys I know a baseball.