The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on January 4, 1899 · Page 3
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, January 4, 1899
Page 3
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A ROMANCE «:'•-•"'• •v''.v;.r:ifJt^,™i?^£s&tf.¥^. ' ? •?--'?^--*/*|»^^^^ • \ \ " '.,, v iv! vv t ;: ^'••" '.':•" ' ''" DBS MOHSTM8: ALGONA IOWA, 'WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 4, 18W CHAPTER III.—(Continued.) "Has their education been commenced?" asks Ruby, with keen anxiety. "My sister imagined that she had succeeded in teaching them their alphabet," laughs Robert Champley; ''but Bob still confounds 'b' and 'd,' •whilst Meg's learning is limited to an acquaintance with the letter 'o.' " "Dreadful!" ejaculates Ruby, looking shocked. "No time must be lost. I think so much depends upon a child's early training and I know that was dear Clara's idea too." "Was It?" questions Mr. Champley eagerly, and with his keen eyes fixed steadily on Ruby, as though she had suddenly turned into an oracle. "In that case I must see about it at once; but I must manage to get someone who will make their lessons more than half play, for they are neither of them particularly strong, poor children, and I would not have them worried on any account. I dare eay if I offer a handsome salary I shall be able to get them a governess who will listen to my wishes on that point. I had better, I. think, advertise for some one about twenty, then she will not be .above playing with the children, and she will not have got soured by buffeting with the world." "Oh, Mr. Champley, what an utter- 'ly mistaken idea!" cries Ruby, in real consternation at this most dangerous suggestion. "What you want is a woman of sixty—a thorough disciplinarian." "Oh, no, I don't," responds Mr. Champley. "I am not going to hand over my children to a martinet." He speaks with such unusual decision that Ruby begins most heartily to wish she had not broached the subject of education. "But girls are so inexperienced and often so impatient with children," she falters. "If you are determined to have a young person, would it not be better to engage some one in the neighborhood who could come to them for a few hours a. day?" "That is a very good idea, as far as it goes," answers Mr. Champley reflectively. "Only where am I to find her?" Suddenly a bright thought—nay, almost an inspiration—strikes Ruby Looking up at him, with clasped hands and beseeching eyes, she says— "Oh, Mr. Champley, if I might only be allowed to teach them, I would with pleasure!" "You, Miss Wilden," says her companion in surprise—"you?" "Yes. Why not?" questions Ruby quickly. "I was their mother's best friend, and I dote on children. You do not know how much brightness would be added to my lot if you would only entrust me with their education!" "I had no idea that you had any gift that way." "I think I have. At any rate I know that it would make me very happy if you would send me Bob and Meg for a few hours three mornings a week." Mr. Champley frowns and looks uncomfortable. "I—I really could not dream of so far troubling you, Miss Wilden," he says, with a decided head-shake. "Teaching is very irksome work, unless to the initiated, and I do not wish my children to become a burden on my friends." "Oh, nonsense!" cries Ruby, with a playful smile. "Don't I tell you that I should enjoy having them?" Rais ing her voice a little she calls her mother to her aid. "Mamma, I am trying to induce Mr. Champley to let me teach Bob and Meg. Don't you think it would really do me good to have some regular occupation?" "Of course it would, my dear," acquiesces Mra, Wildeii cheerfully—"only I am not quite sure you know much to teach them." "You see, mamma thinks me incompetent," says Ruby, smiling—"per•haps you object to my plan for the same reason?" "Oh, dear no!" laughs Rober Champley. "I have no doubt whatevei of your ability; but " "In that case I shan't listen to your 'buts,'" says Ruby archly, as she rises from her seat and crosses over to the piano, "and I shall consider the matter settled. Next Monday I shall expect the dear children af ten o'clock precisely." Then, without allowing time for anj objection, she takes the seat which Shell has just vacated, and breaks into a brilliant arrangement of lively Scotch airs. Rooert Champley makes cue more effort to free himself from an obliga tion which is so exceedingly distaste ful; but his not very clear reasons an . Quickly overruled by Ruby and hei mother, so that he leaves the Wilder 'ness that evening with a cloud on his Usually placid brow, "I wish that woman had more tact, 1 he confides gloomily to Ted as, bay- Jig donned light overcoats and lightec their cigars, they wend their way down the short drive. "Which woman?" queries Ted, In ;', fOlce of ^different wonder. t<w hy, Mies Wilden, of course! Be: Qn.--sense Wight tell her thftt I rathey have a regular governess if they nee,4 t«whi«f here is nothing in the world I hate more than officious meddling with my flairs, and yet there is nothing that ne is more utterly incapable of sup- ressing without positive rudeness." I say, don't get waxy over it, old >oy!" suggests Ted, regarding his n-other with some amazement, for Robert has aa a rule such an equable emper that it seems strange to find t even in the least ruffled. "For my own part, I thought it awfully kind of Miss Wilden to propose having the "ids over—she seems very unselfish and kind-hearted." "I don't doubt for a moment that she s a most estimable woman," responds Robert impatiently, "but she has no act, no common sense; she must have seen plainly that I hated being put un- ler such an obligation. If she insists ipon teaching the children, I don't see iow I can prevent her, only I shall certainly send her a check at the end of the quarter for her trouble, and eo make a business matter of it." "You can't possibly do that," cries Ted, in a voice of consternation; "I am sure she would take it as an insult! If you want to satisfy your conscience, the children could make her some present of jewelry or something of that sort." I don't care so long as she gets paid somehow," remarks the elder brother carelessly, and yet with a good deal of annoyance in his tone. Ted walks on for some moments In meditative silence; then he says suddenly— "I wonder what has come over Shell since I met her last. She used to be one of the jolliest little girls in existence, and now she seems to be full of selfishness and spite. Surely she can't have been crossed in love; yet nothing else that I can think of would account for the utter indifference which she seems for the world in general." "Poor little Shell—I noticed a great change in her too!" assents Robert dreamily. "As you say, she used to be such a chatty child, and this evening her behavior was almost rude; perhaps she has had something, as you suggest, to sour her. I thought she looked quite pretty In that simple white dress." "I might have thought her pretty if she had condescended to make herself agreeable," laughs Ted; "but, since she did nothing but snub me at every turn, her hair struck me, as being remarkably red, and her temper uncommonly bad. Wasn't that piece of music an awful infliction?" "Excruciating!" agrees Robert heartily. "Her family ought to give her a hint not to inflict herself on visitors, or, if she Insists on playing she should limit her performance to five minutes." "Oh, well, I must own it was rather my fault!" confesses honest Ted. "She warned me beforehand that I shouldn't want her to play again If I heard her once." "Well, she gave us a quantity, If not quality!" laughs Robert. "Indeed she did!" acquiesces Ted, with almost a groan. CHAPTER IV. Ruby has now been the self-constituted instructress of Bob and Meg for nearly a month. The novelty of her voluntary task has worn off; the children too have taken off that feeling of restraint and shyness which caused them in the beginning to sit like little models of patience during the two hours' devoted to lessons. They have now begun to realize the fact that their liberty is restricted during the morning visits to the Wilderness, and both are beginning to regard their disinterested benefactress simply in the light of a jailer. Ruby possesses none of those qualities so essentially necessary to win childish hearts—she has no pa-, tience, no tact, and not an atom of real sympathy for her young charges. One bright June morning Bob is laboriously forming some strange hieroglyphics supposed to represent pothooks in a very blotted and limpy copybook, whilst poor little Meg, with an ominous quiver of her lips, is standing with her hands behind her in front of Ruby, vainly seeking in her passive little brain for the answer to the oft- repeated question— "Now, Meg—wake up, and tell me, like a good little child, what is three times four." "Tree times four—tree times four, repeats Meg drearily-so often has the same question been put in the same words that it conveys no meaning to her childish reason. Ruby has a way of scanning the morning news whilst she carries on her monotonous string of questions, so that her face is completely hidden from her poor little vic- and regarding Ruby With angry and a very red face. "You rude little boy," eftys Ruby, throwing down her paper in surprise, and regarding the young rebel With a haughty stare; "go to yoiir copy at once, or I will put you in the corner! Meg is a naughty, naughty girl, and if she does not tell me at once -what three times four is I will make her a dunce's cap." Meg throws herself upon the carpet in a paroxysm of fright; the disgrace to her mind sounds so terrible that her howl changes into convulsive sobs, only stopped when Bob shouts at the top of his voice— "Three times four are twelve, Meg." "Tree times four are twelve," sobs Meg from her crouching position; and then she goes on with her crying more tranquilly. This open rebellion on Bob's part causes Ruby to rise from her chair and advance ominously towards the culprit. "I don't care—I don't!" cries Bob in a frightened voice. "You can put me on three dunces' caps if you like." Ruby makes no answer, but, having reached his side, administers a sharp box on each ear. "I don't care," repeats Bob, whose poor liitle face is crimson at the indignity. "Then you are a wicked little boy," •lays Ruby angrily; "and as a punishment you shall do another whole copy of pot-hooks." 'I don't care," reiterates Bob doggedly, as Ruby roughly drags him from his perch. "Now watch me whilst I set your copy, and If you make a blot on this page I shall punish you, remember." "I wouldn't be as cross as you for de whole world," remarks Meg's chirping voice at this moment with great decision. She has risen from the carpet, and is regarding Ruby with a mixture of dislike and fear. Then there was silence in the apartment whilst Ruby labors through a whole lino of stately pot-hooks—she is always very careful about setting the copy well, because the copy is occasionally shown to Mr. Champley. She makes a graceful picture, seated on a low chair, and with her well poised head bent eagerly over her task; unfortunately, Bob and Meg are not of an age to appreciate beauty as a mere study. Yet, notwithstanding this fact, Bob's keen eyes are fixed upon her closely, though with no friendly look. Presently his keen gaze lights upon a hair-pin standing loosely out from Ruby's heavy plaits. Cautiously —very cautiously he first touches it, then draws it out and holds it up for Meg's approval. That little damsel smiles and dimples with delight. Much pleased with his success, he quietly withdraws another pin and then another; but suddenly his exultation changes into fright, for with a slow movement the big shining plait comes gliding down and falls at his feet. "Oh, I didn't mean it," he says in a tone of apology, "but your hair has come off." Even now lie does not" understand the enormity of his offense, nor can ho comprehend why Ruby becomes so alarmingly red as she stoops to pick up her lost property. "Did you cut it off, Bob?" asks Meg innocently. "No, I only took out the pins, and it fell off," explains Bob, who is full of consternation at the mischief he has wrought. "You had no right to touch it," says Ruby severely. "If your papa only knew how rude you have been ho would have you punished." This she says by way of warning the children against repeating this contretemps at home—littls does she understand their perfect love and confidence in their father. Her announcement only has the effect of sending tender-hearted Meg ofl into a spasmodic fit of weeping, so distressed is she at the idea of causing grief to her dear papa, (To be Continued.) JENNIE M'QOUQH GRAPHICALLY TELLS HER STORY. To Percelte That There Is Something Fnnilnmeii tally Wrong In a System That Exacts tho Impossible Against Nature's Protest. (Special Letter.) 'Miss Jennie McGough, a young woman employed on the editorial staff of a daily newspaper in Chicago, ill., recently made a tour of some of the sweatshops of that city. Inasmuch as a strong effort will be made at the next national meeting of the Federation of Labor, which occurs next month, to devise ways and means to blot out these curses of great cities, the narrative of her experiences is of timely interest at present. The pictures are from sketches made by Miss McGough, and tell their own sad story. Narrative and pictures alike hear the impress of careful observation, and are free from exaggeration. Miss McGough writes: At the first shop I visited I was obliged to communicate with the proprietor through an interpreter. This shop, like most of its kind, Is on the second floor of a rear building over a stable, and is reached from the street by a narrow board walk between two brick houses. Here, where two score pinched and pallid human beings spend the greater part of their lives, there is little else than foul smells, hopeless drudgery and weary hours that too frequently drag their length far into the night. As I approached the entrance to the ehop a man came out and spoke to me in a foreign tongue—Bohemian, I afterward learned—but as wo could not reach a mutual understanding ho called a second man who could muni- hle a few wor'cls of English. When 1 said I was seeking employment they Beemed to feel reassured and after being questioned as to my ability as a tailoress I was told to come to work next morning at 6 o'clock. Next morning I was up at 5, and after swallowing a hastily prepared breakfast set out. It required great hustling to reach the shop at 6, but I managed it somehow and was at once put to •work on a sewing machine and given a small pile of linings to sew together, •with instructions that no basting was allowed. Five or six men, about 20 •women and 15 children constituted the force at this place. The larger girls were operating machines, the children finished the garments as they came from the operators, and the men were variously engaged in cutting, basting pressing, etc. Some of the children assisted in cutting, some in basting the material to the linings, and others On inquiring the cause pi 11 the merriment 1 Was told that tn.6' men were using "awful bad" Ian- ;uage. One woman wfts Bofry t did iot understand the language so that 1 ould appreciate the funny things that were being said. The proprietor ate his meals &nd Irank his beer in the shop. He seein- d to take pleasure in provoking a iUarrel between two small boys ettt- iloyed at the finishing table and on more than one occasion during the lay pitted them against each other h a retired corner, where they fought t out, the little fellows returning from he encounter bleeding and swearing engeance on each other for all time. Notwithstanding there were 10 large windows in the workroom th<> atmosphere was abominable and the stench of burning fabrics caused by too hot rons -was at times unbearable. I wag almost incredulous when told that some, of the men slept there over night until a glance at their blanched countenances convinced me. Next day I went to work In a shop where men's coats'and vests are made. To reach the place I was obliged to ilunge ankle deep through a filthy al- tim. "Yes—three times four. You -will stan« there until you tell me, you know very well," persists Ruby in tones of ^rKf such an exceedingly dreary prospect to poor Meg that Her two little fat flsts are thrust suddenly So -S £ e^s/and she breaks Into a -you Miss Wilden-you Jut bullying our Meg," cries Bob, suO- turning round on Wa Wgb perch, VALLEY FORGE. Tho Wonderful ^nrlurunee of Cold, Slok Hungry Soldiers. But, whether due to military expediency or not, the story of Valley Forge is an epic of slow suffering .silently : bome, of patient heroism, anc of a very bright and triumphant outcome, when the gray days, the long nights and the biting frost fled together save Scribner's. The middle of December in the North American woods; no shelter, no provisions, no preparations; such were the conditions of Valley Forge when the American army first came there. Two weeks of hard work and huts were built and arranged in streets. This work was done on. a diet of flour mixed with water and baked in cakes, with scarcely any meat or bread. At night the men huddled around the fires to keep from freezing. Few blankets, few coverings, many soldiers without shoes, "wading naked in December's snows"—such were the attributes of Valley Forge. By the new year the 'huts were done, the street laid out and an army housed, with some three thousand men unfit for duty, frostbitten, pick and hungry, They had shelter, but that was about all. The country had been, swept so bare toy the passage of the contending armies that even straw to lie oil was bard to get, and the cold, uncovered ground often had to serve for 9, sleeping ph-na. Provisions were scarce and bungc- was added to the pain of cold, gomeriaes the soldiers went for daye without meat—sometimes without any food,l--*fayette tells us, marveling $* the endurance and courage of the wen. There is often famine Jn. the caup, writes Hamilton, a wan uQt giyea to exaggeration. COMING TO WORK. „ were pressing with irons almost as heavy as their own frail little bodies • During the forenoon headache waf ers were frequently passed along th work table. A pretty little girl who sat near me was obliged to go home because of illness, but I noticed tha she was back at work again in the afternoon. If the men and women who patronize the stores where sweatshop goods are sold could see tho doubl row of emaciated little faces around the work table; if they knew, from ac tual contact with these creatures, wha their daily lives are, they would turn from the sight of n bargain forevc more, and the more philanthropic one; would direct their energies toward thi betterment of these children, lor v/hosi condition they are eo largely respon Bible, At 12 o'clock most of the worn en and children went home for dinner Work was resumes at 12:45. During the afternoon many were ctill com plaining of headache, and great sur prise was expressed all around when they learned that I was not troubled that way. "Oh, you must be fitrong, you ar having such a good day," one girl re marked. But I was not strong enough to re Bist the sickening odor from overheat ed irons pressing on the garment that soon after polluted the already foul atmosphere of the room. A glr opened a nearby window and I wa thus saved from fainting, but my heac ached and throbbed for hours after Ward. Along about 6:45 I felt so il that I was forced to quit the place They were still working when I left There being but a few girls who un derstand English, it was difficult to get much information here. I learned however, that wages are paid by th week, the children and small girls get ting ?3, and the larger ones 15; that 1 Jiours is a regular work day, and tha In busy seasons they work 14 and H hours a day. I did not understand th< language of these people they named we "BagUsb," and somehow before the day wjuj over I b%4 con a, great and growing respect fo the name, Coarse and ribald jesting t/w Uritylfed ta &y tfee PJR, A { pom<j of the women toughed and BASE BALI/ CURRBNt NEWS ANfr OP tHE GAME, Hnfrt Work t» the Lot ot the Avcrftgd Magnate—That Is One dt the Whjr the Efrer-nnsy A< is. bad to Frtaibce Joins Hostoh, Charles A. Frisbee, the left fielder of the champioh Kansas City Blues Of 1898, whom Boston secured at the close of the season, was born at Dows, ia. ( on Feb. 2, 1875. Me acquired the rudiments of the game in his boyhood and was one of the crack players of the Iowa State college team of 1894 aM 1895, during which time he Was a student nt that institution. He made his debut with the Portland (Ore.) club of the Pacific Northwest league in 1896. The league only lasted a month and young Frisbee put in the rest of the season playing with independent teams. His batting average while with ' Portland was .340. In 1897 he Was a CHILD LABOR. ley and up two flights of dirty stairs, the rickety condition of which is a menace to the limbs of the unfortunates who are compelled to use them. And the outside environments were but in keeping with those within. Tho air was thick and heaps of rubbish littered tho floor, but the inmates of the place did not seem to concern themselves over trifles such as these. About ten women were working on machines and as many more little tots were assembled around the finishing tables. I was set to work as an operator and got on fairly well this time, considering my short experience. My position at the machine afforded me an opportunity to talk to the girls, who were disposed to be friendly, and not at .all averse to answering questions. I learned that they began work at G a. m., .the closing hour being regulated by the amount of work on hand; that very often they worked as late as 10 o'clock at night and that wages were paid weekly, salaries ranging from §3 to $5. Here, too, the women and children were complaining of headache, myself among the number, and I soou was obliged to seek the open air. Tho proprietor said to me before I left that he expected me to be at work next morning at G o'clock and that my speed on the machine would have to increase considerably before I might expect an operator's pay—$5 per week. At another shop I made an unsuccessful application for employment, but had an opportunity to see a few men and about 15 children at work on woman's garments. The )ittle ones seemed to wonder why an adult of their own sex should be seeking employment there. Poor little sad faces! The sight of them has haunted me ever since. And yet there is supposed to be a state law in effect at present which forbids the employment of chll- •dren under 14! IN MOROCCO. The Moors are very superstitious, and whenever a householder fancies things are not going to suit him he concludes the evil spirits have taken possession of his house and enlists the services of a professional, who clears a house of devils with the ease an DRIVING AWAY DEVILS. American man drives out mice or thriving waterbugs. This man is in the act of approaching a house to drive out devils and is already blowing on bis mysterious horn, "tuning up," one might say, or rehearsing the public performance. CHARLES FRISBEE. member of the Western association team at Qulncy, 111., and he was credited with a batting percentage of. .308 for that season. His batting record* with Kansas City in 1898 in 138 gamea was .315; his fielding percentage, .906. Ho made 32 sacrifice hits and stole 28 bases. He is credited with being one of the most skillful bunters in the business and a remarkably fast base runner. He is a clever catcher as well as a brilliant outfielder. He has Just had his measure taken for a Boston outfit. Notes Ahout Famous Players. The question has often been asked why Al. Spalding got out of baseball, and, as far as wo know, it has never been answered. George Stackhouse of New York Interviewed Mr. Spalding on this subject the other clay just after his return from a trip to the Yellowstone Park, and put the question direct., The wily magnate said that he did not like to talk baseball just at this time, "for," ho explained, "I see that they have me back at the head of the Chicago club for next year." Asked if he intended to go back and take an active interest in league affairs, he shook his head dubiously, but gave no direct answer. Finally he said: "I will tell you why I got out of it if you really want to know. I was In the game so long that I suppose many people thought I knew all there was to know about baseball. My correspondence every day was something frightful, and It took all of my time' reading and answering letters and seeing callers. I barricaded myself in my private office, but it did no good. When it got so bad that I found that I did not have any time to attend t(T my private business I just simply quit, and James Hart became the controlling factor in the Chicago club. It is not every man who can make a sue-cess of being a league magnate. Base-'' ball is a peculiar business, and a man, though successful in other lines of business, may make the worst sort of an apology when he tries to run a baseball club. Running a baseball club is a different thing from conducting any other business that I can think of. Tho game is full of traditions, which must be lived up to if a club is to be successful. This has not been a banner year for the game, but I can see no reason for being discouraged. Baseball has held up its end this year as well as any of the other sports, and I look to see next season one of the best In the history of the game." Amatewr me thje ^^ ' lawe? . Uuseball Notes, "Bid" McPhee of the Reds celebrated the 39th anniversary of his birth recently. ' Big Perry Werden's leg seems to be all right, and he expects to do good work for the Millers in 1899. The coming meeting of the league promises to be the hottest since the Indianapolis amalgamation. Bill Gleason would like to play with, the Phillies, but he hasn't a chance to escape from New York. Freedmau doesn't seem anxious to talk on the possibility of Joyce's retention as captain of the Giants. The New York State league will, be reorganized for next season. It has existed through two campaigns. Pitcher Pardee of Kansas City, who goes to PHtsburg next season, is inau- ager of a billiard hall in the Cowboy City. Roger Bresnahan says he is no^y Jn excellent condition. Such being the case be will make n good man for some club. Win Mercer now says he $« W9.fhin.gton, to soy

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