■ I ■ I
PlrtCY H. VAN DYKE, Publisher end Editor.
NEWPORT. - - ARKANSAS.
THE dusky black face bent over the
posthole into which the iron dig
ger dropped with power, was as wood
en as the oaken handle of the tool it
self, but the impassive exterior was
but as the ashes that choke the mouth
• of the volcano—there were fires of
emotion within.
Ben’s bine check sleeves were wet
from shoulder to wrist in the vehem
ence of his. exertions, but his hands
could not keep pace with the rush of
his thoughts.
Herein lay his trouble: Lurinda,
laundress at Locust Hill, going home
from “meetin’” the evening before,
had scornfully refused (for the third
time) to name the day she would take
him as her second husband—and he
had loved Lurinda with the faithful
love of a dull man long before she mar
ried Shay Beazley—yellow-faced Shay
—with whom she had led anything but
an easy life until a fatal combination
of whisky and pneumonia made her a
“Lurindy,” Ben had pleaded, “whuf
fuh yuh keep puttin’ me off datway?
' I’s wait en’ wait all de seben yeah yu
mah’ed tuh Shay. Now Shay been dead
en’ gone tuh glory dese two yeah, whuf
fuh yuh g’wine mek’ me wait any
longiih?”
And Lurinda, tall, stern, and gaunt
as a bear in spring, but to faithful Ben
all that was lovely and desirable, had
looked down from her superior phys
ical and mental heights to answer:
“I’s ain’ g’wine fuhgit my duty tuh
de dead tuh grat’fy de lub o’ no libin’
—naw suh—T ain’ nigh got de slab obeh
Shay, null yit de coffin roun’ him paid
fuh—an’ ’twell dey paid fuh. tuh de
las’ cent. T ain’ g’wine let mailin’ come
in my hade!”
Ben looked at the set jaw of his be
trothed with a sinking heart. Well he
knevy it would be many a day before
I
AUNT JINNY MAKES LUR1NDY BLUS1I
WITH SHAME.
Lurinda could spare enough from her
hard earnings to complete the pay
ment on the casket and the oaken slab
over Shay; she had the rent to pay and
the live children to feed. Yet he dared
not offer to help her, for had she not
said, time and again, that she would
never marry another man who could
not give her a home, and was he not
depriving himself of everything but
the bare necessities, to make slow pay
ments on the house with the crooked
chimney at the outskirts of Little Ma
son?
He said no more, but in humility and
dejection bade Lurinda good night at
her door.
“I’s waited longah full Lurindy dan
Jacob fuh Rachel,” he mused, as the
iron cut into the yellow clay, “en’ Lnwd
knows how much longuh I’s got tuh
wait wid de poss’bil’ty o’ a fine 'iraian
lak huh uh git-tin’ uh bettuh chanst
den me.”
The fence the heavy-hearted lover
was building lay between the highway
and a sloping pasture-field, in the
upper corner of which next the road
was the negro cemetery, protested
by a tumble-down “worm” fence from
the encroachments of the yellow Jer
seys in the grass-field. The railroad
lay, hot and shining, in the Indian sum
mer sun across the southern end of
the field. A long treignt train, weight
ed with gray building-stone, tore by,
leaving a stream of sparks and smoke
in its wake.
Ben wiped away the sweat drops as
the stifling air grew hotter, but it was
not until the two Jersey cows, with
bellow’s of fright, ran by him in a fran
tic rush for the great ponds which
lay beside the fence at the foot of
the upward slope, that he observed
that the long, dry grass, inflammable
as tissue-paper, was a wall of flame.
His heart leapt in his throat. Shay’s
grave with its unpaid-for w’ooden
marker was in the rude cemetery on
the hill, close by the tumble-down
fence with its corners heaped with dry
leaves and dead growth of goldenrod
and “everlasting.” If that- slab was
burned—good-by to his h opes of Lurin
da! He threw one quick glance at
the coming firecloud, then looked to
ward the graveyard on the hilltop.
Could, he make it?
Before three seconds were gone he
had dipped himself in the pond, and
with his ragged cap running rivers of
waters and his dripping coat in his
hand, was running like a mad thing
up the road. The hot air burned his
che-eks and took his breath when he
reached Lurinda’s mound, but with the
energy of desperation he wrenched the
oak slab loose from its foundation
block and wrapped his wet coat about
it, just as the fire leapt through the
fence and caught the everlastings and
the short grass on Shay’s grave.
The stinging smoke choked and
blinded him—the scorching flames
licked at his hands, but he clasped his
precious burden hard and stumbled
into the road. Happily a dozen hur
ried steps brought him to the great
pond with its waters of safety.
After a time Ben crept painfully up
the road to his cabin. A gapingcrowd
of neighbors came to exclaim over.him
and minister to his needs. Old. Aunt
Jinny, Ben’s best friend, was loud in
condemnation of hi* foolhardy feat.
“Lawd, Ben. you is sho’ crazy!” she
exclaimed, as she bound up his blis
tered hands and bathed, his scorched
face—“Dat niggah Lurindy ain’ wuth
no sich strivin’s ez dis, no way en’ no
how! Now some you nigguhs stay
heah en’ teck keer o’ Ben while I go
fine Lurindy ez fas’ ez my ole feet kin
tote me ober de groun’! I gw’inefahly
put dat wench tuh shame!”
In the gathering dusk Lurinda, with
withered water-soaked hands and
suds-sprinkled dress, made her way
humbly to Ben’s home.
Ben’s eyes brightened as the angular
form of his beloved appeared in the
doorway.
“Lurindy,” he said, thickly, point
ing with one cottonswathed hand to
the tall slab leaning against his bed
—its splendor untarnished—“Lurindy,
I save it fuh yuh!”
The tears streamed down Lurinda’s
dark face—-Aunt Jinny had done her
work well, and the sight of Ben’s ban
daged hands was an added prick to
her conscience.
“Yuh mout uh b*hnt up,” Ben,” she
quavciru, ufiwtrcn sous. x tin muut
uh died savin’ dat piece o’ wood—en’
den da’ wouldn’ been no use o’ me
livin’! O Ben, I ain’ gwine let dat ole
debt stan’ between me an’ you no
moah! En’ I’s ready tuh mah’y yuh
now—right now—ef dat’ll mek’ yeh
any happiuh!”
Ben’s eyes widened with hope—in
credulity—joy. He looked at the down
cast face of Lurinda, then at his use
less hands, and opened and shut his
mouth helplessly.
“Why, Lurindy, gal,” he stammered
at length, “I won’ be able to wuk fuh
yuh, fuh uh long time. En’ I ain’ got
de house paid fuh yit,” he added,
weakly.
“Whut dat mattuh?” Aunt Jinny
spoke in a tone of command. “Shetup
dat mouf o’ youh’n, Ben! Ef Lurindy
willin’ teck yuh now, don’ yuh try tuh
piM huh out’n de notion! Can’t some
yuh nigguhs go git de preaehuh?” she
asked, turning to the other open
mouthed guests.
Volunteers were not lacking, and a
little later, Ben, leaning on the arm
of Lurinda, with the light of love and
the fruition of hope illuminating his
countenance, walked down the road
to her cabin. A broad shaft of light
from the open door fell on the coal
ash path, and five wooly heads were
thrust out to welcome “Mammy.”
“Chilluns,” announced Lurinda,
proudly, as she led Ben in, “I’s fotch
yuh uh new pappy! Breng de cushion’
cheer, Smyrna Ann, en’ Ned, yuh en’
Zeky kin teck dis dime an’ go tuh de
stoah en’ git some reesins, while
Loueezy en’ Calline sets de fiah in de
stove. We gwine hab reesin cake fuh
suppuh. Yo’ pappy pow’ful foud o’
reesin’ cake.”—N. Y. Post.
A RIVER PASTORAL.
It was a random rhymer,
Blithe-hearted as the May,
Who plucked the flowering climber
Along the river way;
It was the ferryman's daughter,
With gypsy rose and tan,
Who ferried o’er the water
This straying minstrel man.
Her hair had purple timings
Above her sea-shell ear;
Her eyes had starry glintings;
Her laugh was lyric clear.
He listened and he lingered—
(His tryst was one with Fate!)
Till eve, the fairy-fingered,
Had shut day's sunset gate.
Thus oft they met thereafter,
At last no more to part,
For Love (or was it laughter?)
Had snared the rhymer’s heart.
And now upon life’s ocean
The twain together float;
He's captain—that’s his notion!
But she still steers the boat!
—Clinton Scollard. in Lippincott’s.
King Alfonso's. Liberality.
By order of King Alfonso a Santiago
court-martial has acquitted a young
soldier who refused to kneel at mass
because he was a Protestant. The
sentence asked by the prosecution w as
three years’ penal servitude.
Our Strenuous President
His Example Good for the Country’s Youth
HEREWITH we present an excellent likeness of our “strenuous P^si
dent as he appears in his business office at the white house. ’-Pfa “
of Theodore Roosevelt’s emphatic way of doing things a ( t-'tl N()
Washingtonian said not long ago to a New Orleans corresponc en .
“Whatever else men say of Theodore Roosevelt, this country vvi
n debt of gratitude for teaching the young men of the country to 0,1 v ' ^-n ^
it hat after the physical man- as they go along. Roosevelt is Sl>nl< 1
more than a rough rider when we come to analyze the influence lie ls^ 1 '<
to have on the young men of the country by reason of the fact t ut, K
the first man of his nation for awhile at least.
“Young men will naturally copy somewhat after the man "ho occl’P
such an exalted position. Really the president may be put do" n as a eat
er in physical culture of the first order. Boys who follow afte^ im
naturally become more vigorous in their way of doing things.
“Of course, Roosevelt did not originate the idea that it was wise o >
physicully strong. The Roman gladiator was looked upon as somew ui
Copyright, 1902, by CUnedinst, Washington, D. O.
_ ———
PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT IN HIS OFFICE.
strenuous. Poets sang little verses about him, and his picture was daubed
on vases and other ornaments. We all remember the story of Theseus
throwing the Cretan bull at Marathon, and how Hercules wrestled with and
overcome Aehelos, how he withstood Ares, Poseidon. Hera, and Apollo, and
slew lions, and strangled serpents, and all that kind of thing. And there
were all the long array of Olympian games, the hippodrome for chariot
races, leaping, javelin-throwing, quoit-throwing, running and wrestling, and
manv others.
‘These were physical classics, and the statement has been made that
when Olympian games lost prestige, the Grecian armies lost power. The
imperialist delights to dwell on these things. But Roosevelt can find ex
a?nples closer to his own time, according to physical culturists who have
delved into the subject.
“The claim has been made that George Washington had the measure
ments of a prize fighter, measurements that were more perfect than Sul
livan’s, Corbett’s, or Jeffries’. It is claimed, too, that before the revolution,
G. Washington was the best boxer in all Virginia. Lincoln, Jefferson, Adams
and Webster afe also claimed by the men who are enthusiastic over physical
culture, and who believe that one’s mental vision is broadened and cleared
by good, vigorous exercise. So, when we come to think of it, Roosevelt has
some rather conspicuous examples, in history for his ‘rough riding,’ ‘bronco
steering’ ways. But the ifs and ands have nothing to do with it, and the
some may be said of the whys and the wherefores.
“The fact is, he is making a strong impression on the minds of the
country’s youth, and he will not fail to have a good influence in this respect.”
SWEAR IT IS AN AIRSHIP.
Two Citisen* of Little Clinte, Wl»„
Graphically Describe the
Aerial Wonder.
Up in Outagamie county, in Wis
consin, there are reputable citizens
who will swear that they have seen
an airship. At three o’clock in the
morning a large part of the popula
tion of Little Chute, a village four
miles east of Appleton, are out of
their beds looking for the wonder in
the air which two inhabitants of the
village say they have seen.
Peter Plugers, village marshal,
while going home the other morning
at three o’clock, saw the airship.
John Lucassen saw it the next morn
ing at about the same time. They de
scribed it as about 40 feet long and
carrying four lights. The body of
the machine was boat shaped.
It seemed to each of the observ
ers to be several miles away. It
would descend almost to the horizon
and then dart up again until it was
near the zenith. It disappeared both
times in the south.
Sure Teat.
“How can you tell real cut glass
from the imitation?” asked Mrs. Gas
well.
"You can’t always,” said Mr. Gasvvell,
“but when anybody offers you a piece
of real cut glass for 15 cents don’t buy
it.”—Chicago Tribune.
Industrious.
Lady—Did you ever try to get
vork?
Tramp-—Yes, ma'am; I got a job for j
ne brother once.—Baltimore World. [
THE ENGLISH PRESS.
Senator Depew Says Adoption ol
American Methods by London
Paper* Denote* Progress.
Looking ruddy nnd as vigorous al
most as a youth of 20, Senator Chaun
cey M. Depew, with Mrs. Depew and
his son, Chauncey M. Depew, Jr., has
arrived at London. Mr. Depew thinks
the London newspapers are fast learn
ing American methods.
“Why, as soon as I got to my room
this morning,” he said, “I received a
card from a representative of a London
newspaper.
“ ‘I have only just arrived,’ I said to
him when he was shown in.
“ ‘Yes> 1 know it,’ he replied, ‘I have
been waiting for you.’ I rubbed my
eyes. ‘Am I in England?’ I inquired,
anxiously, but he did not seem to un
derstand. Several years ago it was
the custom for me in London to receive
a note from the managing editor of a
newspaper asking the privilege of an
interview. When I gave it they would
send up their copy to be revised.”
Comparative Valuation.
“Be not like dumb driven cattle!”
exclaimed the graduation girl.
“No chance of it!” muttered the
cynic in the back row of the audi
torium. “I’d like to see the day
when I’m worth as much as sirloin
and porterhouse.”—Washington Star.
A CoilnoiM.seur.
Estelle—Ah! His proposal was just
like a dream.
Agnes—Well, you ought to know,
dear. You’ve been dreaming of that
proposal for years!—Brooklyn Life.
at home in the kitchen.
oupoi. Alexandra I« the Peer of Any
Lady in England In the Art.
of the Housewife.
Viewed from a imman standp. at—.
just now a popular one from which
to contemplate royalty—Queen Alex
andra is the peer of any lady in Eng
land in housewifery. For her proficien
cy she has to thank her excellent moth
er, the late Queen Louise of Denmark,
and the exigencies of her childhood life,
which was the reverse of luxurious,
says Youth’s Companion.
There were not many servants at the
Gule palace, says the author of a re
cent “Life of Queen Alexandra,” and
the young Danish princesses were re
quired to dust their own rooms, and
make themselves generally useful
about the house and at meal-times. A
gentleman who one day was invited
to partake of the informal family
luncheon at the palace recalls that tho
family butter-dish chanced to need re
plenishing, and Princess Louise, in
stead of summoning a servant, turned
to her elder daughter and said:
“Alexandra, will you fetch some more
butter?”
And the future queen of England de
parted willingly and gracefully on the
homely errand to the larder.
Duringa visit paid by her in 18S8 with
the crown prince and princess of Den
mark, the princess cf Wales, after in
specting every part of the Home for
Scandinavian Sailors, said to Mrs.
Melin, the superintendent:
“I would like to see the kitchen.”
It was dinner-time, and the cook was
frying fish.
“I can cook fish,” said the princess;
“let me show you if 1 cannot.”* She
went to the cooking range, and deftly
turned the fish in the pan till it had
taken the requisite brown.
The cook looked none too wrell
pleased at ladies in the kitcherf, but
when, as the visitors turned to leave,
Mrs. Melin whispered: “It is the
princess of Wales who has fried the
fish,” the cook showed such astonish
ment that the princess burst into a
hearty laugh.
FROM FASHION JOURNALS.
ItciiiH of Interest for Feminine Head
ers Who Keep I p with the
Times in Dress.
Cream doeskin or Saxe gloves with
deep leather gauntlets will be fashion
able a little later on, while pale gfray
and tan reindeer are also beij^g mad©
up with wide gauntlets.
Lace mittens will be worn with the
elbow gaunnleted sleeves, for they
give the appearance of a tight-fitting
continued lace sleeve, obviating the
bare appearance of the arm, which is
sometimes objected to In the daytime.
A frock of plain batiste is trimmed
with bands of pla,in linen and given a
pouched bodice fastened across with
just two distinguished looking but
tons. The linen hat has a couple of
quills thrust through it one from be
neath the rim, the other only through
the crown.
All kinds of linen and cotton seems
to be in demand this year, and one of
the new fancies is sail cloth, a coarse
flax fabric that is serviceable and
smart. So are brown holland and cam
bric dresses, the former trimmed with
strapped devices, the latter with white
embroideries.
A charming coat is a loose fitting
one. rather full in the skirt, in taffetas
changeante, mauve shot with pink. It
has a cape collar long and pointed be
hind, reaching below the waist, of pal©
mauve accordion chiffon, with a vermi
celli pattern in pink chiffon ruching
running over it, with here and there a
lace butterfly in applique, and tied in
front 1*7itl-i n T--r
.*•
An exceedingly graceful design for
a foulard gown, the colors gray-blue
and geranium, has a deep flounce on
the skirt, beaded with folds of foul
ard and trimmed with two bars of
string tinted wheel lace and cambric.
The bodice has fichu folds in front over
a vest of cambric and lace, and full
sleeves flowing from shoulder crowns A
to match the vest, and gathered into
cuffs of the same materials.
Character lluiiili»K. i
Ihe habit of holding the mind stead
ily and persistently to the thought in
a good book not only increases the
power of concentration, but also im
proves the quality of the mind. In
spiring reading is that in which life
building words abound—for words are
things which unconsciously enrich
character. The image of each helpful
word held in the mind leaves its im
press, us autograph, so to speak, there,
and continually reproduces itself in
uplifting thoughts. The boy or girl
so nurtured will have been given the
best means of acquiring a mentality of
the very highest order.-Suceess.
Date Cream FIUIuk.
Soak quarter pound of dates over
night then stew until they can be eas
ily strained. Mix with large cupful
ich milk or cream, one egg, « pinch of
salt and nutmeg. If the mixture is too
urn, add flour or cornstarch to stiffen.
Spread between crusts and cover top
Wr ^ ™th "h]PPed cream.—Ladies’
World. Jyew York.