■ -!L-k. r—
, mm DAM INDEPENDENT
MRCT M. VAN Dm. PuPlUlcr «nd Mltw
NEWPORT. * • ARKANSAS.
A COMMON TYPE,
He fretted ns a boy.
He worried as a man,.
He criticised and questioned!
The universal plan;.
He made all lives a burden 1
Through Ills everlasting, "Why
Was ever man created.
Since hc'o only born to die?"
IE He prospered In bis business,
But was always in the dumps
Because the stocks he carried
Were liable to slumps;
When he made a strike he grumbled,
*<r; "Now, tell me, what’s the use
Of heaping up great riches
When to live we've no excuse?"
.'B, He wus married and was happy.
Till he chanced to think that fate
Might take away ids loved ones
And leave him
^KRencath it cloud of darkness
He always would abide,
^L’And he never turned li over
j|g|K To see the other side.
ipS After years of this depression
IHI^B He hus riches and to spare.
But he cannot take his pleasure—
§£-. There Is danger in the air
Bo he worries and he worries
As ho turns life's middle page.
For now lie's looking forward
T To a penniless old age.
—M. t>. Rezne, in (Chicago Record-Herald.
t THE YACHT. I
$************************ ♦
T ^
x An Old FiBhorinan’s Version of a ^
♦ College Athlete’s Love Story, ♦
^************************ |
* lly Zoo Anderson Norris. <J>
♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦
ANDREWS stretched ont a brawny
hand, helped me into the boat,
steadied it, and motioned me to a seat
in the stern. He grasped the oars, and
with a strong, firm pull or two spun
into the sound and anchored. He drew
out his line, fastened the bait securely
and cast it.
‘‘Unless you keep quiet now’, miss,”
admonished he, “the fish won’t bite.”
"I’ll keep quiet,” I promised, hum
bly; for as a matter of fact, that was
the condition upon which I had been
permitted to come.
The yacht was not far off. It lay
on the pearly water, still as a painted
yacht, the sails glittering white in the
afternoon sunshine, the shadows of a
gray, delicate as the breast of a dove,
merging into purple of so soft a shade
as to appear to be pink. Beyond,
against the horizon, two cat-boats
dotted the tender pearl of the sea.
By and by, forgetting, 1 said, ‘‘It’s
a beautiful yacht.”
Andrews gave a sullen jerk to his
line, drew it out, and flung it dis
gustedly back again.
“1 had a bite then, miss,” lie com
plained, “if you hadn't spoke up an’
skeered it away.”
Afraid to breathe, I lasped into si
lence like the grave.
After a time, glancing sidewise at me
beneath eyebrows of the thickness of
underbrush, and seeing me sitting
there bo very still, he repented some
what..
“Yes;.’” he began, “it’s a beautiful
yacht”—he pronounced it yat, the same
as cat. “A trim enough yacht for any
body. It belongs to old man Smythe,
up there on the hill. If you look you
kin see the steeple o’ his house jest
over the tree-tops. Urn! 1 knowed
old man Smythe when he spelt his
name Smith, like other people; but
that was before he had a run o’ luck
an’ made his millions. Him an’ Si Slo
cum was fast friends then, too, an'
the children growed up together, that
boy Jean o’ his'n an’ Beth, Si Slocum's
gal; but there's a diff’rence in men.
There's bound to l>e. or there wouldn’t
be no millionaires, an' what would this
here country be without the million
aires? They’re a necessary evil.
“Leastwavs. startin’ out with what
seems like an even show, one man goes
up an’ the other down. What with
fellin’ a bit o' property here an’ there,
ajn’ investin’ it judicious in some o’
them tall buildin’s in New York, old
HQBanan Smytlie got pretty soon to own
*bout everything in these here parts
wha» was wuth ownin’. As for Si Slo
cum, he don't own nothing. The best
he kin do is to rent the few feet o’
earth his house squats on. He’s got
to be content with that Not that he
ain’t content enough. Too content, ac
cordin' to his wife, Liza. Let him go
’round with a briar pipe stuck be
tween his teeth, an’ his hands in his
pants pockets, an’ he’s happy, she
says. He thinks he's got about what’s
cornin’ to him. He don’t want for noth
ing more. The world may go hang for
all him, an’ welcome. Miss, be quiet,
there, will you? There’s something
nibblin’.”
The "something” nibbled and quit.
Once more throwing out the line, he
gave a dissatisfied grunt, and com
menced the story where he had left
off.
"Them two children, that boy an’
gal,’’ said he, "was together most o’
the time—the boy, old man Smythe’s,
as 1 say, an’ the gal, Si Slocum's, an’ a
bigger, finer, strappin’ sunburned gal
you never see, a-livln’ in the open air,
tishin’, swimmin’, rowin’, bathin', an’
when there wa nt nothing else on
band, jest walkin’ about, takin’ long
breaths o’ what them city folks calls
’ozone,’ an’ what we plain folks calls
’air.’
"No, that gal didn’t need the walls
tV no house to hold her, ’ceptin’ for
sleepln’ purposes. The blue sky was
walls enough for her an’ plenty near.
5f you could ’a’ seen her swim it
would ’a’ done your heart good—that
curly head o’ her n goin' out, out, out,
duckin', then cornin’ up ag'in an’
buckin’ another an’ another time. That
gal wa'n’t afraid o’ nothing i*\ the
I
.. '“7 —
way o’ water f thunder an’1
storms an' hlJr a’ night, though
I ain’t sayinJtt—--jght.n’t ’a’ been
ekeered at s4fotro’'!i automobile in a
city street,/never havin’ seen either
one o’ then/ or knowed what they was.
It’s all in (he life you live. miss. City
folks come down here, an’ takes fright
at. a tame little mooly cow goin’ along
mindin’ its own bizzlness; an’ we coun
try folks, when we gets up there, is
skeered plum into fits at the t.rolley
•ars. If you are raised under the feet
o’ a cow, you don’t mind her; if
you've been raised to get out from un
der one o’ them cow-catchers in front
o’ them trolleys, you kin get out from
under it with your life, an’ if you
ain’t been, you can’t It's all in the
bein’ used to things. That’s half the
battle, an’ more.
“Maybe, when all was said an’ done,
that gal Beth was a leetle more afraid
than she might ’a’ been o’ readin' an’
’rlthmetic, eaze Si could do nothing at
all with her when it come to goin’ to
school an’ lamin’ out o’ books an’ that.
Not to say he tried so hard, not bein’
what you might call a larncd man his
self: but he could ’a’ tried harder. But
accordin’ to my notion, now in these
days, when gals knows as much about
books an' things as all their great
gran’mothers put together, it was a
sort o’ relief, seemed like, to come
across a gal like Beth Slocum, what
didn't know nothing, an’ didn't pre
tend to know nothing, but the earth
an’ the sea an’ the air an’ the clouds,
an’ the shells that grmved all over the
beach thick as the pebbles, an’ the
flowers that. Plowed themselves tired
in the woods, then dropped to the
ground an’ rested till it got time to
blow ag'in. I say, it. was sort o’ re
f resilin’. Huh?”
“I never said a word,” I declared.
“Not a solitary word.”
Andrews’ blue-shirted shoulders
moved with n Tnichtv shriur.
‘‘Bein’ a woman,” he explained, “I
happen to know you’re dyln’ to ask
some question or other, if you ain’t
actually askin’ o’ it; so I might jest
as well tell you the story o' that there
yacht from start to finish. If 1 don’t,
your curiosity will be gettin’ the bet
ter o’ you sooner or later, an’ you'll
be skeerin’ o’ the fish, a-bustin’ out
talkin’.
“As I said before, that yacht be
longs to old man Smythe, up on the
hill.”
His voice sank a trifle lower, a mys
terious undertone it was, though there
was no one but me to hear.
"They’re gettin’ it ready for his son
Jean’s weddin'-tower to foreign parts,”
he finished, pausing for the space of
some minutes to observe the effect.
“Oh!” I dared to ejaculate.
“Yes, that’s what they be a-doin’.
You see, old man Smythe vva'n’t like
Si Slocum. He made his son take all
the ’vantages o’ a college education.
He sent him to about a dozen, if re
ports is true, which they mostly ain't.
You can't any more count on ’em than
you kin count on ketehin' a fish when
there are wimen ’round talkin’. 1
don't know how he happened to send
him to so many, unless he’d got ex
pelled from a few. They said that,
too, while they was a-sayin’ things.
Anyway, he come away from them col
leges a great expert, they tell me, in
rowin’ an’ swimmin’ an' playin’ leap
frog or football, or whatever that there
game is where they double each other
into knots an' set on 'em an’ break
their backs, when they don’t kill ’em
outright. What is it you call it?”
"Football,” I said.
“Um! Football. Well, when he'd
finished them colleges he had splendid
muscles, they said, an' a face as brown
as Beth Slocum's. Yes, you wouldn’t
want to see a finer specimen o’ man
than that Jean Smythe when he come
from college.
“Um! For all the Latin an’ Greek—
them deceased languages they stuff
’em with at them there colleges—there
w'a’n't much more lamin' lookin’ out
o’ Jean's eyes than there was lookin’
out o’ Beth Slocum's. When you come
to think o' it, wan t Beth trained
about on the same principle, ’ceptin’
she was trainin' herself with her row
in’ an' exercisin' in the open air, a
raakm o herseit strong.' \v nat was
the diff'retne? Money. That was all.
A fortune bein’ spent on him an’ noth
ing on her. Takin’ it all in all. though,
they was a mighty line pair, them two
ath—ath—”
"Athletes,” I volunteered, with some
timidity on account of the fish.
"Athletes," he repeated, drawing a
coarse sleeve across a stubby mustache
in an embarrassed way. "I always dis
remembers jest how them city swells
calls the name, or how they pronounces
it.
"Leastways, after he'd finished that
there college trainin’ o’ his’n, there
was high old doin's ail 'round—the
Newr York mansion in the winter time,
with balls an’ parties an' dancin’, an’
this here place on the sound in sum
mer, an' sich a place! A p'latial resi
dence—that was what them city swells
called it—with smooth, sheered grass
all ’round it, a gate house big enough
for a ordinary fam'ly, a conservatory
with glass windows, an' a army o'
servants to keep the common herd out
o' the gate an’ often the grass.”
His old blue eyes, faded to the color
of the sea, gazed straight ahead for a
space. Then he continued:
“We was the common herd—me an’
Si Slocum nn' the rest, an' Beth, the
gal that Jean, his son. had been raised
with, bathin’ in the same hollow pool,
swimmin’ in the same sea, an’ flshin’
for the same sort o’ fish since they
was old enough to know how to sling
out a line or fasten a bait onto a hook
so’s it would stay. I'm! We was the
common herd!”
In spite of his resentment it seemed
that he felt the necessity of finishing
the story, now that he had begun it.
"From the commencement o’ the
summer," his voice presently wheezed
on, “to the end o it that big house
was filled with city folks—classmates
swum"
an’ sail-boated with him at college,
i An’ gals in white, with white shoes on,
luggin’ red an’ yaller sofa-pillers to
that yacht, out there, an’ a-goin’ a
sailin’ up an’ down the sound, an’ out
to sea sometimes.
“Pretty soon there got to be talk o’
one gal in particular what Jean was
settin’ to, an’ how there was to be a
gran’ weddin’ at the New York house,
an’ a bigger party afterward In this
here house down here, an’ the weddin'
tower after that, a-sailin’ to foreign
parts in that yacht you see them Scan
dinavian sailors a-climbin’ all over, an’
back ag’in. The talk ran high, an’ it
seemed for all the world as if things
was to come out as they said they
would. But you never kin tell; no, you
never kin tell. Man proposes, as the
sayin’ is, an’ the good Lord disposes;
an’ the good Lord had made up his
mind, it seemed, that, this was to he
sort o’ diff’rent-like from what they
supposed it would be.
“Leastways, along about the last o’
May there come a spell o’ weather—
terrible foggy weather. There wa'n’t
a night o' that month that the fog
horns didn’t blow themselves hoarse—
blow an’ blow an’ blow till we was
most deaf with the sound o’ them.
“Well, one fine day, when the sun
come out to take a peep at. things to
see how they was goin’ on, the girls
in white, with their little white shoes
shinin’, brought out their red an’ yal
lar sofa-pillers, an’ set sail in that
yacht, with flags a-flyin’ an’ music go
in’ an’ them Scandinavian sailors—im
ported caze the old man had more
money than he knew how to spend,
an’ was bent on doin’ something extra
expensive an’ no earthly use—climbin'
the riggin’ hand over hand, like blue
coated cats.”
"And,” 1 encouraged, as he put in a
silent and useless moment surveying
the moveless line with a melancholy
eye.
“The sun didn’t stay out long,” he
commenced again. “It. went back sud
den-like, an’ the storm that come up—
we hadn’t had sech a storm as that on
the sound in many a year! The fog
horns Mowin' like mad from light
house to lighthouse, a-callin’ to peo
ple as if they’d been human creatures
in distress, to keep in their houses an'
stay off the rocks.
“It's a good yacht, that yacht, an’
the sailors they done what they could.
But they was Scandinavian sailors, an’
they wa’n’t proof agin the gale that
blowed an’ howk** an’ whistled as if
a pack o’ demons had been let. loose,
bent, on destroyin’ people. She struck
on the rocks.”
“What then?” I cried breathlessly,
regardless of the fish.
“Why, then out come this here com
mon herd o’ people about here, Si
Slocum at their head—people old man
Smythe’s servants had had orders to
keep offen his grass—an’ they fit the
elements tooth an’ nail, same’s they’ve
been used to fight in’ ’em from the
time they was children on up. They
saved the lives o’ every millionaire in
that yacht. Not a soul was lost; not
even a sailor.”
He raised his head with a jerk, and
for a period of time studied the cat
boats.
"That night,” he continued, then,
“was the night when Beth Slocum’s
trainin’ come in handy. An’ who
knows but it was what she’d been train
in’ for all her life unbeknownst? Who
knows?”
“Yes,” I urged.
“Well, that was the gal what swum
out to the yacht, an’ saved the life o’
old man Smythe’s son, Jean. That
very same gal. Him a college athlete,
what, had had a fortune spent on him,
saved by a gal o’ the wind an’ the rain
an’ the cold, stormy weather, what
hadn't had nothing spent on her to
speak of to make her a fine, strong
gal—nothing more’n is spent on the
birds o’ the air an’ the beasts o’ the
field an’ the grass an’ the flowers, sun
shine an’ soft winds an' evenin’ mists
an’ rain.”
“And then?”
“You see that yacht out yonder,
with the sailors climbin’ over it?”
I did; and a radiant thing it was by
now, the sails in the slant of the set
ting sun turned to cloth of gold.
ntir.it it. --1__rtiH
» » v. 1 1 , IV * ^ ..V '
for the weddin’-tower to foreign parts.
But there’s to be a different bride.”
“Who?” I asked, breathless again.
“ ’Tain’t no white-shoed bride this
time, with lace trimmin’s or nothing
o’ that sort, not to say but she'll have
all the fix in’s in her own good time.
It’s Beth that’s to be the bride. Si
Slocum’s gal. Beth. Huh?”
This time I had opened my mouth to
ask a question. Fish or no fish, it had
to be asked.
"Andrews,” I queried, “what became
of the other girl?”
Andrews, deliberately drawing his
line out of the water, rolled it around
the pole.
“There ain’t no use tryin’ to fish,”
he grumbled, “with wimen ’round. I
i,tighter knowed that. What become
o’ the other gal? Well, it seems she
wa’n’t never in love with Jean Smythe.
Bhe loved some other man. So when
Beth saved Jean’s life, an’ he, cornin’
to his senses, found that she was the
gal he loved, she acknowledged she
wa’n’t marryin’ him for nothing but
his money, an’ give him up.”—Wo
man’s Home Companion.
An Eaay MHhotl.
“1 succeeded in developing a splen
did negative in a strong light yester
day,” said the amateur photographer.
“How did you manage it?” queried
his friend.
"I asked Miss Millyuns to marry
me,” replied the snapshot artist.—Cin-<
cinnati Enquirer.
The KlniihlnK Touch,
The Nurse—The doctor has come to
take your temperature.
The Convalescent—I suppose it’s all
I have left.—Puck.
I
\
I_w V ...
SPORTS AND
ATHLETICS
The Boston American league team,
owned by Henry Killilea, and captained
by Jimmy Collins,
is the champion
baseball club of
the world. The re
cent contest for
the honor with the
Pittsburg team,
champions of the
National league,
ended in favor of
Killilea’s team by
the score of five to
three. There is no
one to dispute the
right of the Boston
Henry Killilea men to the honors
that they have earned, for the team that
contested with them was fairly beaten
and Manager Clarke, of the defeated
team, and his men have nothing but
words of praise for the fast work of their
rivals. Not since 1889 has a world’s
championship been fought and won.
That year the New York National league
and Brooklyn American association
teams fought 'for the title and the Goth
amites won it. handily. Never before,
though, has the same amoupt of interest
been displayed in the outcome of the
world’s series and never have two teams
fought for the honors that had as good
a right to try conclusions as the National
and American league teams this year,
for each was the champion in a major
league. Boston’s team is not a combi
nation made up of what his been recog
nized as star players heretofore, but the
whole team has now earned a place in
the gallery of stars. Manager Collins
and the pitchers, Cy Young and Dineen,
hnvp hppn rppntrriWpH nmnnp- thp hrll
Hants for some seasons. Manager Col
lins, the third baseman of the team, was
born at Niagara Falls and picked up the
game at St. Joseph’s college at Buffalo,
where he attended. Frank Selee, then
manager of the Boston team, drafted
him in 1895 and farmed him to Louis
ville, where he developed into a third
baseman. He has been the manager of
the Boston team for the last three years
—ever since it was organized. The rest
of the team was as follows: Criger and
Farrell, catchers; Hughes and Winter,
pitchers; Lachance, first base;; Ferris,
second base; Parent, shortstop;; Free
man, Stahl and Dougherty, outfield
ers, and O’Brien, utility man. The
Pittsburg team has equaled Chicago,
Boston and Baltimore’s feat of winning
the National league pennant three suc
cessive times. The league pennants
were won as follows: 1876, Chicago;
1S77-7S, Boston; 1879, Providence; 1880
81-S2, Chicago; 1883, Boston; 1884,
Providence; 1885-86, Chicago; 1887, De
troit; 18S8-S9, New York; 1890, Brook
lyn; 1891-92-93, Boston; 1899-1900,
Brooklyn; 1901-02-03, Pittsburg. It is
remarkable that, excepting Pittsburg,
no western team has landed a league
pennant since 1887, when Detroit cap
tured the flag, only to lose it with ease
the next season.
Of all the sports governed by the
Amateur Athletic Union, the Y. M. C. A.
ar the Intercollegi
a t e ass ociation,
none have jumped
into popular favor
more quickly than
the game of bas
ket-ball, originated
by Dr. Luther Hal
sey Gulick, and at
present chairman
)f the A. A. U. Na
tional basket-ball
committee. And
not only has the
jame become pop
ular with the male Dr. L. H. Guiic*
sex, but the women have taken to the
game as naturally as a duck does to
water. Scarcely will the football sea
son have ended before basket ball will
take the place of the gridiron sport.
Throughout the country basket-ball
championships are held annually, and
each division of the A. A. U. holds a
series of chamnlonshiD earacs. the
same as they do with athletics. In the
east Harvard, Yale, Cornell, Pennsylva
nia, Amherst, Holy Cross, and all the
other colleges have teams, there being
an Intercollegiate association and a
New England association. New York
has its Military League association,
while nearly every high school has a
team composed of boys, and another
composed of girls. According to statis
tics compiled by the A. A. U., there are
about 40 registered teams in the central
association of the A. A. U., not includ
ing the 13 teams of the central associa
tion of the Y. M. C. A., Chicago, that
are registered in the Y. M. C. A. Ath
letic league. This year, however, this
number promises to be surpassed, for
there are many teams at present asking
for admission, including the Cinoinnati
Gymnastic team, of Cincinnati, O. The
division of the A. A. U. that is most
flourishing, as regards basket-ball, is
that of the New England states, which
was formerly under the supervision of
William A. Dumbrisky. At the present
time there are 88 athletic and Y. M. C.
A. teams, 20 colleges, 20 military organ
izations and ten high school teams
registered in the district, making a
total of 138 teams.
HARRY MARTIN.
Didn’t Spoil His 11 entity.
“I say, Miss Pepprey,” said young
Kallow. proudly fingering the slight
down on his upper lip. "what do you
think of that ? Quite noticeable, isn’t it?”
"Yes,” replied Miss Pepprey, “but I
wouldn't mind it if I were you. I know
lots of other girls who were troubled
with superfluous hair, but got rid of it.”
—Philadelphia Press.
Described.
"What sort of a woman is she?”
y "Well, every time I see her I feel like
I congratulating the man whose proposal
I of marriage is rejected.”—N. Y. Times.
—Z——- my1 - ■■ ■ I ylmmmm J————■
W. LnmusT ^sbs. L. T. Slaydew Vice P*e«. B. Y. Hoi* Ca
BANK OF TUCKERMAN,
CAPITAL STOCK $20,000.00
YTe are open ta the public for all business which constit ate3 tafo ?®»
liable Banking. ‘ “V
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COLLECTIONS A SPECIALTY.
Your Patronage Is Solicited.
TUCKERITAN - - ARKANSAS.
- -_ ■ ■■ i ■■■ . '■'■■■ ...—■-■■■■■■<4
V. M. AKE & COMPANY
BROKERS.
Colton, Stocks, Grain and Provisions. J
Private leased wires to all I Correspondent 01' A.B. Baxter I
market centers. [ & Co., 04 Broadway N. Y. I
Reference: FIRST NATIONAL BANK, Newport,
fSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSmSSSSSSSSMSmSfSSSSSSSmSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSlmSSSCSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSStSSS
— THE
NATURAL
ROUTE
MEMPHIS, THE EAST AND SOUTHEAST,
INDIAN TERRITORY, TEXAS, OLD MEXICO,
OKLAHOMA, CALIFORNIA AND THE WEST. j
- i
Pullman Drawing-Room Bullet Sleepers Through to
Pueblo, Colorado Springs and Denver.
THROUGH FREE RECLINING CHAIR CARS
To All Important Texas Points.
___ " ,;j(XjJBak 1
UK EQUALED SCHEDULES AMD PERFECT I'ERVIOE.
GEO. tl. LEE, Gen. Pass. & Tickssi Agt. JAS. HARRIS, Dlst. fysss. Agt.
LITTLE ROCK, ARK. . / 1
.—-- ■ - H
i
Lmi..
THE BANK OF NEWPORT
Paid in Capital and Surplus, $55,000.00.
OFFICERS AND DIRECTORS.
G W.Decker,.President. A. D. Bailey, Vice-President.
R. M. Johnson, Cashier. T. D. Kinman, Ass’t. Cashier.
V. Y Cook, Dr. J. M. Jones, Jos. M. Stayton,
Thos. J. Graham, E. P. Shoffner. T. S. Stephens.
The people of this community have given us a most
satisfactory business the past year, and at the be
ginning of another season vve desire to acknowledge
our thanks and appreciation for their confidence, good
will and generous patronage. And we assure those not
now doing business with us that we shall be pleased to
have them open an account this fall, and shall endeavor
to please them in every reasonable way.
TRY THE
...Weems Laundry...
When you want good work.
They make a specialty of
DYEING AND CLEANING CLOTHES
Let them show you how
well they can please you.
Leave orders with
T, P. UMSTED & CO,
Local Agents.
JACK JONES,
The Crack Barber, keeps a neat
and busy little shop. Upper end
of Front street. Expert tonso
rialists. Easy shaves and the best
haircuts. Our work pleases.
“Come on, ye stubby beards.”
HENRY OWEN,
PHYSICIAN, SURGEON AND
OCULIST.
OFFICE - SELLS’ DRUG STORE.
LIVERYMEN,
FARMERS,
DRAYflEN
And all users of axle greas®
that want the best grease on
the market and that recognize
a good thing when shown its
merits, we recommend our Gold
en and Castor Oil brands of
Axle Grease. It is put up in 11 *
pound tin boxes and 3 pound'
tin buckets. For sale by all
up-to-date merchants. Ask for
i it and take no substitute. It is
guaranteed to have no equal
for quality on the market.
WATERS-PIERCE
OIL COflPANY.
JACK HERRON.
For granitoid and stone walks,
curbing, all kinds of brick
work, don’ti fail to get my fig
ures before'contracting. .
My WORK TALKS FOR ITSELF.
Parties wanting crushed
lime-stone walks, apply
to me.
i Iran