The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa on January 30, 1895 · Page 3
Get access to this page with a Free Trial

The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

Publication:
Location:
Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, January 30, 1895
Page:
Page 3
Start Free Trial
Cancel

gjgii:.: ;; l:. 1R0INIA W» JOHNSON* tfttfi ^**&m .~«a>»; CHAPTER IV. Tlie clergyman nodded his head gently, Possibly lie was amused by tile vivacity of the Ancient Mariner. "Then the inhabitants of the Island gathered on the beach to receive the ehipwreeked strangers, and made a fire of fagots to warm the poor crea^ tures. llow nice and kind of them!" said Mrs. Griffith in her mellow, sympathetic voice. "Paul abode here for three months, ' the Roman centurion having refused to slay the prisoners under his charge to prevent their escape," added the clergyman, restoring the Testament to his pocket. "Truly, God works in a mysterious way His wonders to perform." "All this land must have belonged to the Publius whose father was healed of fever by the Apostle," mused Miss Symthe, pointing to the ,tohore with her red silk parasol. "How awfully clever you are to know all about HI" whispered Lieut. •Ourzon, while his glance plainly supplemented: "How well you are looking to-day!" The young lady smiled with a certain calm complacency. Her sailor hat was bound with a blue ribbon, which imparted a youthful charm to her delicate features, while her slender figure was clad in a white dress with an azure belt, and wide, mariner's collai-, •enfbroidered with anchors. She was •subtly aware that the masculine gaze rested on her with satisfaction, and even the elderly clergyman found her allusion to Publius the more apt that •she was fair. "As for, the model of the ships of antiquity, we find it on the coins of Corn- modus, Adrian, and Lucius Verus," said Capt. Fillingham, still contemplating the bay. He turned suddenly to Arthur Cur• zon, with a twinkle of sly humor in liis eye. . ."Does your friend, Jacob Dealtry, happen to possess any good Roman '' ing a clear head at mess wheiJ feebler brains had become hopelessly obscure over the wine. Arthur Curzon beheld him in as Odioils a guise as did Charles Lamb's crier of the thief; his plain exterior exaggerated to ittottstrosityj as his soul was capable of any evil in* tent Youth is prone to extremes of feeling, and the sailor was very young in all matters of the heart. "How Very odd that 1 can not get the name of Dealtry out of my head!" said the Ancient Mariner, removing his hat, and suffering this Warm breeze to s\Veep over his bald cranium, fringed with white locks. "When I was in the Baltic a matt >" . "Don't" know, I am sure; but I should say not," retorted Lieut. Curzon, curtly. Capt. Blake, who was attired in a uniform of vivid scarlet, and a short jacket which imparted an additional ruddy glow to his sandy complexion, bushy ' red mustache, and bulbous nose, tilted his cap over his keen blue eyes. , '\ ' •',•• '. ' . •••'.'.''• "I have no more doubt of Jacob Dealtry's dealing in Roman coins than that he has a pretty daughter," he said, in a baintering tone. The company laughed. Arthur Curzon again started, and colored with anger. "You are mistaken," he retorted lightly. 5,'JacOb Dealtry has no daughter, as far as I am aware." , He was vexed, even startled, by the" swiftness of the emotion which swept Jover him at the mention of the young girlUn the garden. Surely the senti- , m"e>'ii was merely a tingling irritation of ,<juick blood, the innate hostility in .rivalry of the sailor to the soldier. Be'felt>an unwarrantable resentment at O&'pt.- Blake, mingled with wrath at 'himself ,for so readily betraying his own annoyance. What a fool he had be'e,n to ever mention the name of the ' ' v "John, dear, put on your hat, or you will catch your death of cold," interposed Mrs. Fillingham with her usual decision of manner. The lady was in the best of spirits. She wore a hat of .-juvenile aspect and a metal belt with a whole arsenal of miniature daggers and pistols of silver attached. The Ancient Mariner slowly replaced his hat, with an expression of offended dignity. "I was about to remark, if you will allow me to finish, Mary " "Yes, yes," rejoined his helpmate, with her hurried* lisp, while her pale blue eyes wandered abstractedly toward the luncheon cloth spread on the ground at some paces distant. "Mrs. Griffith is waiting for us. Let me find a nice sheltered coi'ner for you, dear, and some sherry. You must keep up your strength, you know." "Promise to pi-each us a sermon on St. Paul at Malta," said Mrs. Griffith to the clergyman. The hostess felt that transition from sacred to mundane matters might be too abrupt without such a suggestion. "Very good," he replied, smiling. "I invite you all to my parish in Surrey next summer to hear me preach about St. Paul at Malta. I fancy the ordeal will prove a sufficient punishment for all small peccadilloes. Promise to lunch with me at the Vicarage afterward." In the general assent Captain Blake evinced marked fervor. Much desultory talk and laughter ensued, amid the popping of corks and the discussion of cold fowl and ham, sandwiches and salad. The Ancient Mariner, with a Scotch plaid spread over his rheumatic knees, a plate of jellied beef before him, and a wine bottle at his elbow, had recovered his amiability. "Get married in the heyday of youth," he admonished. "Every man needs a wife to take oare of him." The clergyman, who was a widower, sighed, and helped 'himself freely to mustard. Miss Ethel Symthe sat on a camp-stool, with Arthur Curzon on her right hand, and Captain Blake on the left,; j The latter, investigating the depths of a jar of potted tongue, remarked, "The worst of it is, Malta is such a beastly hole to be stationed in. There's nothing whatever to do." "I; find it' very jolly," said Arthur Curzon. Thereupon he sang, in a fine baritone voice, the ballad of Destiny. The Ancient Mariner listened with a sudden shadow of gravity on his face. "Strange! His father, Admiral Jack, had just such a voice," he soliloquized. "Do you like that song?" demanded Capt Blake, sotto voce, of Miss Symthe, as he traced lines on the ground with the pointed end of the young lady's parasol. "Bellowing is no name for it" Then he added the soldier's defiance of the discipline of the troop-ship, in a mocking falsetto— "And all about the ship, I'm sure 'twould vex a, saint! Everywhere you -walk or sit, kind, for which the tnoderU fashion* able girl, whether at home or abroad, is often so remarkable. Woe betida the innocent rival who should cross the path of fethcl Symthe's purpose and thwart her aims! The heroine ol many London seasons, deeply versed in feminine wiles, had one of Mrs. Barrett Browning's housewives in her bosom, well stocked with sharp needles and pins of jealousy and sqite, ready to stihg and pi-ick a victim to pain. Capt. Blake betrayed no pique at her defection, but entered upon a lively political skirmish with Mrs. Fillingham, who prided herself on her conservative acumen of judgment. If the captain was a social wasp, moved at times to envy and malice, he sheathed his little weapon ott the present occasion and gave no sign oi irritation. "Friends in council aid me," said Mrs.. Griffith, eating a last pate with a fine appetite. The Russian grand duke has kindly promised to come to me after dining with the governor. Of course, there must be a ball. I sent out the invitations this morning. How shall we amuse his highness? 1 have thought of some introductory dramatic entertainment before the dancing commences. Our time is Very short for preparations. What if we had a series of tableaux representing the early inhabitants of Malta receiving the royal guest?" "Charming!" exclaimed Mrs. Fillingham. "Give him a Cossack supper and show him our Crimean medals," suggested Capt. Blake, facetiously. Mrs. Griffith threatened him with her finger. "I should require a beautiful girl for the early Phoenician type," she continued. "I know of one," said Arthur Cur^ zon, impulsively. "Do you, really? That makes all the difference. Can you induce her to pose for us, Arthur?" t "I will try," was the eager rejoinder. Mrs. Griffith contemplated her cousin with interest. Miss Symthe darted a swift glance at him of surprise and inquiry. . "Is she beautiful?" the latter asked, with assumed carelessness. Lieut. Curzon bit his lip. He wished that he had not again spoken of the inhabitants of the Watch Tower, and yet the motive was a generous one. Doloied longed to go to a ball. How strangd it would be if the caprice might be fulfilled in a swif b and unexpected fash« ion! "That is a matter of taste," he said, warily. "At least she would serve as a foil for Anglo-Saxon beauty," and his glance rested on Miss Symthe's golden hair and delicate complexion. "We need dark and rich coloring," said Mrs. Griffith, "Can I rely upon you, Arthur?" >'You may rely upon me," he replied gravely, suppressing a smile. "I need the assistance of all of you," concluded the<hostess, rising. Then the remnants of the feast were packed .in.baskets and hampers by the attendant servants, and a last glance taken of St. Paul's bay by the pleasure seekers. ABOUT THE CAMfFllt! StORlES tHAt AftE f OLt) BATTLE ANB BIVOUAC:* bfttinftft fcfa*e fcttSitt* — JtAsby'* Why ite ShonliJ Sf«t' fie tirftfted— fhat tittle Ot-deMjf of Sherldatt's— tie Has Multiplied. So there are no pretty daughters in h<?use of Dealtry," said Capt, B.la,ke', mockingly, "Here's the pity! U'njJ*', great admirer Of the fair sex, »i'4"yet R^y Enemies declare that I am nQt'& 'frying Wfto,". * th^'soldier sighed and glanced he with t» expression of admiration, w¥vh was They sing out, 'Mind the paint,' " Miss Symthe declined to laugh at this sally, and proffered claret-cup to Arthur Curaon instead. Mrs, Griffith had said to her friend when the man-of'War was coining into port, "I hope you two will like each other, Ethel. Arthur belongs to really very good people." Miss Symthe was prepared to like kieut, Curzon. She had decked herself in a nautical toilet before her mirror that morning, as an international tribute of flattery to the young 1 man* Sfce was a daughter of her century in alt respgete. and fowr'aud* twenty years of |&9,- ' 'She, was, OR the, whole, heart- free, ''but §be bad passed ' seye^al London seasons, a»d pepien,§e§ sqme erael ( i-'b§ tropp P| "wy enters from the gp^oolrppro beneath ef mtevml iai»bjtip»i rang* toting A ferate fcrietf-. A veteran soldier's face lighted up with a fine glow of enthusiasm as he recounted to a company of friends some of his experiences in our civil war. One of them, impressed by his earnestness, made a commonplace remark. "How hard it is," he said, "after thirty years of peace in our united country for anyone to believe that there ever Was a time when our soldiers under different flags hated and enjoyed killing one another." "You are wrong!" exclaimed the colonel. "Hatred among the soldiers was not common. Tha trade of war was distasteful to most of them. There was little personal animosity between the blue and gray. Each as the War went on was proud of the bravery and qualities of the others. A soldier on the battlefield, exposed every moment to death first learned to respect and then to like a brave enemy." The veteran related an incident of the Wilderness campaign. There had been fierce fighting, and a swarm of prisoners had been taken to the rear guard, where rations had been served to a regiment which was about to be ordered into action. "When did you Johnnies have your last meal?" shouted one of the officers. "Last night," was the answer. "That is too bad!" cried sevei-al vjicea. ''Let's give them our rations. We have had our breakfast, and can go without dinner." It was clone with one accord. The prisoners got the rations and the generous regiment marched onto the battle, wishing them better luck another time. The colonel gave several illustrations of the'good-humored banter exchanged between the camps, and told of strong friendships formed on picket duty, and of rollicking games of cards played between the soldiers of the opposing armies. He commented upon the unwillingness of the men to take any unfair advantage of an enemj r , when the armies were not engaged in battle, but only watching and playing with each other. He told a story of a Southern officer who entered a Union camp in a Northern uniform, and induced the officers to believe that he had been sent from headquarters on an inspection tour. His real character was exposed after a dinner with the officers, when his name and rank were accidentally noticed on the hilt of his sword. He was a spy, and- the rules of war had to be enforced, especially as a complete diagram of the camp and it's defences were found on his person. But every officer in the court marshal that condemned him tried to make excxises for him and regarded him with pitying eyes. "The soldiers were good friends," said the colonel. "They were proud of their country's military prestige and fighting stock. . Take an old soldier's word for it, there is nothing easier than to love a brave enemy."— American Tribune. Vif'jftt ^i *w * Va T*^ *aSl«>ir» F t &* FOUND msi MISS SYMTHE'S COMPANION. Returning homeward, Lieut. Curzon found himself the companion of Miss Symthe. Mrs. Griffith smiled on the young people with her most benevolent expression. The young officer, with a sudden access of high spirits, and full of impatience to fulfill the mission intrusted to him, replied mechanically to the remarks of his companion. ' She was of a conventional type of correct young ladyhood. He assured himself, with weariness, that he had met scores of girls just like her. He could define to a nicetyi if so minded, her opinions on religion) society, politics, dress, town and country life, He did not attempt to analyse this change of mood, only the softly modulated accents of Miss Symthe in his ear bored Mm, (TO UK CONTINUED,) TPE LAWVBB ANSWERED,—One ' of Chicago's most prominentlawyers tells a good story <w himself, He says; "it was when I used to practise law io, a little town wear thegeuterpf the state, A farmer badcme Q $ ^ neighbors lor stealing ducfcs, »$£ i was eQn.Vin.c.e'tbe spurt that sw?h was t the ease, '£be plaintiff 'wag pasi» was .guilty of the jMWJj J?9CIVU6f3 they U hy He Should Not Be Drafted. Petroleum V.Nasby.in order to place himself in his proper position before the public, felt called upon to give his reasons — weighty and cogent ones, too; — why he should not be drafted. He says: I see in the papers last nite, that the government has institooted a draft, that in a few weeks hundreds uv thousands uv peaceable citizens will be dragged to tiie tented f eeld. I know not wat others may do, but ez for me, I can't go. Upon a rigid eggsaminashun uv my fizzikle man, I find it wood be wuz ner mad n is for me 3 undertake a campane, to wits 1, I'm bald-headed, and hev bin obliged'to wear a wig these twenty- two years, 2,*Ihev dandruff in wat scanty hair still hangs round my venerable temples. 3, I hev a'krouic katarr, 4, I hev lost, since Stanton's order to draft, the use uv one eye entirely, and hey krqnic inflammashun in the other. 5, My teeth is all unsound, my pa-lit ain't eggsaatly rite, and I hev hed bronkeetis thirtyrone yeres last JpPR, At present I i*ev ft koff tho paroxisms uv whieh is frightful 3 behold, 0, J'm holler ohestid, and short' winded and h§ v allus hed panes in wy" baclf an<J side. 7. J'w p.ffljtete$l with kronio direar and kps.tivniss, Tho wqney j j ;e v paid fe,r, Jayneses fawionytlye bal* sam an^l pills, wposfl astonish almost 8,' J^nj ppohured n entirely Qnveiqpe 9. I- bey sore . 5h9V id sQ ,'nther— 9 plapes, and with trusses, - ' yanes, hey a , lega.n$ iv fever sq wun lej? ip QUgb I han^e. 7 ever W9W9.WJ cottid be spared for the campaign! el Sherman and Grant. This regiment was mustered into service in June, 1864, and was at once sent to Teti- nessee, where it was engaged guarding the railways. Stephen H. Henderson Was colonel of the regiment. One officer and fifteen men died in the Service. That Little Orderly. C. A. McNeil, Richwood, Ohio, writes to the National Tribune: "So far it was George Mullihan, of Paddock, Neb.; John Ballentine, Saginaw, Mich.; David D. Deshong, Hyndman, Pa. { Hiram Pace, Fremont, Mich.jM. Gerwig,Third West Virginia cavalry: Gabriel Fox, Nichols, N. Y.; and Joseph C. Richardson, Baldwin, Maine, who were the only little orderlies that kept Up With Sheridatt. 1 trust that the comrades of Ohio who were in the valley with Sheridan will see that the old Buckeye state is represented in the foregoing list. Let all get in who can. More the merrier." Corporal, company I, Third West Virginia cavalry, Hope, W. Va., writes: "There seems to be some contradiction as to who was the small man that kept up with Sheridan to the lines of the army at Cedar Creek. If any man besides myself kept up I did not see him. So I'll give a short history of the black mare I had, as she was my private property. She could run equal to a gray hound, and had the bottom to hold out. I am sure she saved my life at Opequon, near Winchester, on Sept. 19, 1804. The Johnnies had cut me off, and thought they had me sure. There was but one gap to get out by flanking them. I had some 400 yards to make the gap, while they only had a hundred to the outlet. One Johnny officer got within ten steps, but Blackey sailed out like a pigeon past the whole crew. "This animal I sold to an officer, who took her to the Western plains to fight the Indians, where she finally got shot by the Indians. I was surely the orderly who rode close behind Sheridan." Thomas W. Alderson, Lenoxville, Pa., writes: "There is a man here who claims to be that little orderly, and I think he is, for he told me all about it some time ago. He was in tho 17th Pa. Cav., and his name is George Moore." A Soldier's Monument. A monument for the soldiers I And what will ye build It of.' Can ye build It of marble, or brass or bronze, Outlastln? the soldiers' love? Can ye glorify it wtthleaends As grand as their bloo.l hath writ From tho Inmost shrine of this land of thine To the outermost verge of it? And the answer came: We would build it Out of our hopes made sure, And out of our purest prayers and tears, And out of our faith secure We would build it out of the groat white truths Their death hath sacrificed, And the sculptured forms of the men in arms, And their faces ere they died. And what heroic figures Can this sculptor carve in stone? Can the marble breast toe made to bleed And the marble lips to moan? Can the marbled brow be fevered, And the marble eyes be graved To look thair last, as the fla? floats past, On the country they have saved. And the answer came: The figures Shall all be fair and brave, And asibP.flcting, as pure and white As the stars above their grave. The marble lips and breast and brow- Whereon tho laurel lies Bequeath us rl?ht to cuard the fll;ht OI the old flag In the skies. Amonument for the soldiers, Built of a people's love And brazoned and decked and panoplied With the hearts ye built It ot. And see that ye build It'stately, In pillar and niche and *ate, And hijh iu pose as the souls of thoso It would commemorate. —James Whitcomb Rlley. The Oldest Army Nurse. The oldest living army nurse is Mrs. Lucy C. Freedley, whose home is at 759 Tremont street, Boston, Mass. She was the first woman to receive a pass to the Southern battlefields, and few womenhave sacrificed and braved as much for their country as she. Her two young sons were soldiers, and when she heard that one was wounded at Antietam she went to Washington laden with supplies for the wounded, She was immediately put in charge of the hospital at Georgetown, where she remained two years. After Frefdericksburg she went personally to Secretary Stanton, who finally gave her a pass and she went to that battlefield in search of her son Jesse, who had been in the thickest of the fight and was badly wonnded, Here she had charge of the barracks hospitals and temporary charge of the marine hospital at Alexandria for over a year, She attended the reunion of the 35th regiment at Weymouth last September. Mrs. Freedley is now 80 years old, and still a brilliant con* versationalist and hard student,, She speaks Italian and Spanish. •YPflBjeij an Ei«U»»ge of Confidence, Ift an account of the campaign i» Georgia, (general J. 6. Fullerum tells, this stqryi "The'straie was constant day after day- There was nq strag* glmg, ijvery man on both slides was required to fee in |}us place, It was. while 'moving; baci? from one to angtiher that the incident of wtyiph §QJ»e Q| yp,u have h^rd H.^ej^yovi kjjow what a, 4;§eipi}n/ ia butternut i Afo TftUE tt. tot Weltern fcte iJ«ni [From Grand fcapida (Mich.) fctenlng Press.] The most beautiful spot in all this city IS inseparably associated with the name of Hackley. ChaS. H. Hackley has been fa the lumber busines? here continuously sincS 1856 and in that time has amassed a fof'ttme •which gives trim 6, rating among the wealthy men of the nation. But with wealth there did not come that tightening of the purso strings which is generally a marked chafac- teristic of wealthy men. It is no -wonder then that the toatoe of Charles H. Hacfley is known at home and abroad. His munificence to Muskegon alone represents an outlay of nearly half a milliotu For the past twenty years he has been & constant sufferer from neuralgia and rheumatism, also numbness of the lower limbs, so much so that It has seriously interfered with his pleasure in life. Pot some trine past his friends have noticed that he has seemed to grow young again and to have recovered the health which he had la To a reporter for the Kews Mr. Hackley explained the secret of this transformation. "I have suffered for over 20 years," he said "with pains in my lower limbs so severely that'the only relief I could get at night was by putting cold water compresses on my limbs. I was bothered more at Bight than in the day time. The neuralgic and rheumatic pains in my limbs, which had been growing in intensity for years, finally be* came chronic. I made three trips to the Hot Springs with only partial relief and then fell back to my original state. I couldn't sit atill and my sufferings began to make life look very blue. Two years ago last September I noticed an account of Dr. Williams' Pink Pills for Pale People and what they had done for others, and some cases so nearly resembled mine that I was interested, so I wrote to one who had given a testimonial, an eminent professor of musio in Canada. The reply I received-was even stronger than the printed testimonial and it gave me faith in the medicine. "I began taking the pills and found them to be all that the professor had told me they •would be. It was two or three months before I experienced any perceptible betterment of my condition. My disease was of such long standing that I did not expect speedy recovery and was thankful even to be relieved. I progressed, rapidly, howovpf, toward recovery and for the last fix months have felt myself a perfectly well man. I have recommended the pills to many people and am only too glad to -assist others to health through the medium of this wonderful medicine. I can not say too much lor what it has done for me." Dr. Williams' Pink Pills contain all the elements necessary to give new life and richness to the blood and restore shattered nerves. They are for sale by all druggists, or may bo had by mail from Dr. Williams' Medicine company, Schenectady, N. Y., for 60 cents per box, or six boxes for $2.50. ROBERT BURNS. I'M n ' v Some of the Terrible Impediments Thai Kesot His I'alhwuy Through Life. He was born and brought up in the midst of poverty and comparative ignorance. When, in 1857, Nathaniel Hawthorne visited the poet's residence at Dumfries and took notice of its filthy surroundings, he wondered that Burns could have preserved his marvelous genius in such an unsavory spot, says the Westminster Review. The author of "The Scarlet Letter" was even more horrified at the wretched aspect of Burns' farm at Mossgiel, and could but compare the habitation in which the Scottish bard passed so many of his days to a pig? sty. "It is sad," wrote Hawthorne, "to think of anybody—not to say a poet, but any human being—sleeping 1 , eating, thinking, praying and spending all his home life in this miserable hovel." He praises the "heroic merit" of Burns for being no worse man amid "the squalid hindrances" that beset the poet's moral and intellectual development. Hawthorns was right. Low associations, bad sanitary conditions, and the companionship of the vile are all but fatal to human virtue. Burns wjfts never utterly degraded. He was al- vrays, in spite of his failings, a true man, and his passionate love for his fellowmen outlived all his sufferings. His relations with Jean Armour, though they proved his frailty and hers, were honorable to him, for he left nothing undone to repair the error of his youth, His intemperance,was rather the effect of his convivial ,jii9- position than of any vicious tendency. If he sinned he paid the penalty, one might say, with his life. His career; terminated at 87, and, having regard, to his circumstances and opportunities, his record as a poet is unparalleled, for no man ever achieved SQ muck $& Burns with so little aid from the world and with such terrible impediments m his path, Do? Is Not Pf*d ff»t iBSr,,' ' . \ There is actually nothing-<ii»,.tbf flesh of the 4og that is dis.taste^uj'^r repulsive, Lewis and Qlqvti .t^e/gj*'' plorers, wfco learned to eat compulsion actuary' began it in time, It is not that it is papey says that slaughtered, aitfce. s 1 ;, wt ^,, T ^, has increase, d fjnja^ngty ^^.Mptr fewmcmthj, q$Q Jjas 1 ^". fgp;dpg fles^ is'said tQ 1 ~~~~ *-—± >>-*—<-<-*•>•*- Openly, - m ', '<$ s. ,s?| Vr^ «>•% J'fgf* ? : pf(|l " {':%'.! o&W ..' »;i.vrfs«« ;^ .i ; ;j! ^:m f^f . t (TV**' i,W?$$*

What members have found on this page

Get access to Newspapers.com

  • The largest online newspaper archive
  • 11,200+ newspapers from the 1700s–2000s
  • Millions of additional pages added every month

Try it free