The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on September 5, 1894 · Page 3
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, September 5, 1894
Page 3
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, ; L -v - jf-v- »I^: A - : ' 5ftf*>'. - ' I: ALG0N& IOWA* W1DSMDAY, 8, CHAPTER X.—(Continued.) Old Aunt Ruthy was there, but "Aunt Ruthy's husband" had paid the penalty of painful cleanliness by dying of cholera. Dr. Koss was there, and he entertained all who would listen by recounting his early prophecy that Little Joe was "living a double life," and would some day come to his senses; and by philosophizing upon Joe's cure in the Infernal Regions. And. a dozen or twenty old-time iriends—men and women—were there, "besides a few young men and maidens, anxious so witness a ceremony in which each hoped, ere long,'to play a part, as principal. But "the star of that goodly com- panie" was Vivctte Molier. ' Self-controlled, unselfish and striving to make others happy; ready of speech, with pleasant words for all, she won the good-will of old and young alike, and •even drew words of praise from Aunt Ruthy, who declared her "nice enough for her own parlor, without spot or blemish." When the minister had called attention to the now publicly renewed marriage vows of Joseph and Mary Gust, lie departed somewhat from his usual course, to deliver, a homily on the marriage state. "Dearly beloved friends," said he, "God has never 'before permitted me to illustrate genuine marriage with such a living example of what it is. Here the fires of love "burn bright, as they burned thirty-five years ago. Here is the heathenish phrase of 'honeymoon' made meaningless by a lifetime of connubial love, ever fresh as in the hour of first affiance. Each has lived for the other,seeking to win, and willing to be won, with all the freshness and all the •delicacy of love's young dream. May •God continue to bless you, Joseph with Mary, and you, Mary, with your loving '.husband, as he has ever blessed you in the past—giving you a son without the pains of maternity, and lifting that son from mental darkness by his •own swift agent that flashes in the thunder-cloud. 1 pronounce you husband and wife forever. Amen!" There were tears in many eyes as that deep amen came up from the heart of the minister, and the low •echoing amens that were heard in re- 'sponse came also from the heart. And yet Father Burky, like the other, guests had known only the •outer life of Joseph and Mary Gust— so easily assumed and apt to deceive. They should have known the inner life, where there are no masks and no make-believes. They should have •Icnown Joseph and Mary on the threshold of married life, in poverty, in sickness, in long watchiiigs at the bed of pain, without neighbors and without counsel; in the forest cabin, with savages prowling round; in the lonely waiting- at home by the one for the other absent, making surveys for a future empire; in the alternate wrestlings with ague, and the long struggle with miasma; in storm and cold, and mutual support, when none but God could see', \ And under the nurturing care Buch hearts as these, no mystery that "Little Joe" had grown to manhood to illustrate the loving household, which made him one of its members, from very excess of loving-kindness. The company remained late, talking of early days, or gossiping in the bright sunshine of youth, as each should nuin- ter the years, On their way to the home pf Vivette, the affianced couple arranged that Gust was, on the first favorable opportunity, to make formal application to Molier for his daughter's hand in marriage. If he consented, well; if he refused, they could wait. But, "neither life, nor death, nor angels," should separate them in heart^here or hereafter. 4 Cl-ATJUANT FOB TIIK 8ULPUUJI SPRINGS ESTATE—LAWTEKS ANP CLIENTS. A B T L I N events were occurring at Gray S«> phur Springs, Mvs.. Blake _ to Oiwjinnaii to for a lost husband and sou, as was urged by old, Tom Blal?e his breath;, b.ut OB6 Br Rw,N«Ni!U.»»C* Blake, a young'man had come to the liotel, by stage coach from Lexington, and taken a room. He was alone, and spent a few days in wandering about the premises and making mental notes of all he saw. He talked to the servants at the liotel about their late master; he stared at Mrs. Blake when he ;iad opportunity, and he studied the face of Sam Blake with a gaze which at length appeared to that gentleman insulting. "Who are you looking at, sir?" said Mr. Sam Blake. "I am looking at you, uncle; don't you know me?" replied the young man, with a leer. Who are you, sir?" demanded Blake, with threatening aspect and stern voice. "I was 'Little Joe,' but I'm not very little now." "We'll see about that," said Blake. "Tom," (to a servant) "give my compliments to Mrs. Blake, and ask her to step here a moment on urgent business." When Myra came, Sam Blake said to her: ' •'Do you know this fellow?" Mrs. Blake looked curiously at the stranger for a moment, and asked: "What is your name, sir, please?" "My name is Joseph Blake." "Any relation to this gentleman?" inquired Myra, not yet suspecting the man's real claim, and pointing to Sam. Well, I should think so! Don't you know me, mother? I knew you in a minute." "Do you pretend to be my lost son— poor little Joe? It is impossible!" "No, mother, it is not impossible. I am 'Little Joe,' and you are my mother—Myra Gushing Blake, and the widow of my dear father, Jefferson Blake." Mrs. Blake did not believe- a word of this story, and she was dumfounded at what she believed to be sheer impudence. "What about the medal, sir?" said Sam Blake, \vithont any suspicion that it would be forthcoming. "That look like it?" asked the man, showing a medal from his neck to Mrs. Blake. Myra recognized the medal in a moment, as that worn by DO YOU KNOW THIS FE1J.OW? Little Joe. She stood silent and trem- »bling. She knew the medal was Joe's, and she was equally sure this man was not her son. "Let me see it," said Sam Blake. Then examining it closely, he said: "Very fair imitation, Myra, but it is a f raud; and I think I know its origin." "But I know this is poor Joe's medal—-I know it is," said Myra; "It has my private mark; nobody knew it but.I, and I can not be mistaken," "But I have reason to know, Myra, that it is not genuine-^any more than this impostor is our Little Joe." "Perhaps you will not call me an impostor, sir, when the courts have decided the matter—as I find -I must resort to the law for my rights." (i L,ct me ask you one more question," said Sam Blake. "How have you happened to keep that medal all this time?" "I kppt it because my father, before we started for Ohio, warned me to take care of it if any accident happened; and I have done so." "Where did your father tell you to put it in case of accident?" asked Myra. "In my shoe." "Oh, Sain! that is true; and nobody heard it but Joe and I. Can this man be ray dear little Joe? Please let me look at your ear, sir?" The man hesitated a momgnt, and then said: "No, mother;' if I must go to the courts to establish ray rights, I must retain all proper advantages. Every possible thing your son ought to know, I kpow, and, at the proper time, will answer to the law of the laud. I answer no more now," "That is just where you fail," eaid Sam BJake. "You know a little too much; wd in trying this cpe, I minutes,." "fiSo,Q4' b y,e) m the through the propef oMcefS ol tfee law."' The first result oi this t etnatkablo conference was jealousy and suspicion betweett Sam Blake and Myra. Myra's request fof permission" to examine the man's eat indicated tc Bam either that she watered In hei doubts as to the strange man's identity, or that she was disposed to favoi his false claims for the sake of accruing advantages to herself. Myra on her part pondered Sam's statemenl that "he had reason to know" that the proffered medal was not that of "Little Joe." How could he have any reason to know that, and why had he concealed from her any Bitch reason' Then she remembered the memofan* dum, so carefully confided to her by old Mr. Blake on Sam's return from Cincinnati. That memorandum was carefully copied from the genuine medal, as she Well knew. Why, was not that memorandum given to Sam instead of to herself,and that secretly? And where did the second memorandum, which referred to 'other dates than this, come from? Surely the story of the idiot boy was an invention; and reluctant as she was to at last believe Sam Blake base enough to rob her of her son by concealing his whereabouts for his own private gain, she could arrive at no other conclusion. All night she could no\ sleep. She had no one to advise her, no . discreet friend to consult. She decided at •last for herself—whether wisely or not the event alone could determine. Next morning she wrote a brief note to an • attorney living at the county town, and dispatched it to him by a confidential servant. Tho note merely requested the presence of /era Colburn, Esq., "forconsultation." In the afternoon, whea Mr Colburn arrived, the following conversation occurred: "I have sent for you, Mr. Colburn, to ask your professional advice." "Yes, madam; aboxityour son's estate. The case is a difficult one.' Which side do you take?" "Which side of what, Mr. Colburn?" "The young man's lawsuit." "Have you seen him?" "He called upon me yesterday. Do you recognize him?" "Oh, no, no. He is not my son, I am quite sure of that; but—" "But—?" echoed Colburn, anxious to bo. sure of his ground before committing himself. "But, Mr. Colburn, I wish to know whether it will prejudice my interests should I aid him in his suit—without recognizing his claim, or without being a party to his pretensions." Colburn knew now just where ho stood. "No, madam; not at all," ho replied; "I can prosecute tha claim wholly in your interest, madam. You need not be known .in the matter at all." "But it troubles my sense of propriety, Mr. Colburn, to act in secret; and only a mother's desire to learn 'what can be known of a lost son could induce me to do so. I care nothing for the estate." "Let us understand madam. You wish me claimant to the estate to my power for the love of your lost son; not for the claimant's sake but yours, and without regard to your own claims upon tlie property?" "Thank you, Mr. Colburn; that's what I wish you to do. I trust to your discretion as to what has passed and may pass between us. Mr. Colburn, yovi are my attorney." "And as your attorney, Mrs. Blake, your communications will be sacredly confidential. But I must know nil, you understand—even your most secret thoughts in this matter. You must not let me labor in the dark. "I. have nothing to conceal, My. Colburn. Could it turn out that this man is indeed my sou, much as it would shock me to believe it, let ,him have his rights. But I nm not a party to any fraud, Please remember that, Mr. Colburn." "I understand you perfectly, madam. And you must trust me implicitly. Possibly the claimant will have no other attorney—he has no money; and that must not surprise you, I will prepare the bill and petition and show them to you for approval. Good-morning." When Colburn reached his office he dispatched the following note: "JOSEPH BI.AKE, Esq.: "You will find it to your interest to call upon meat ray office at 3 p. in., to-inorrow. "%. COUIUKN, "Att'y at Law." At 2 p. m. next day "Joseph Blake, Esq.," called as suggested. Said "Joseph Blake" had already consulted Mr. Z, Colburn, told his story and requested that able and honest attorney to undertake his case. But Mr. K, Colburn hoped to be on the othei side, where he knew there was both money and power. The claimant hat no money, and Colburn did not choose to fight Sara Blake for a contingency— unless the alleged mother could be enlisted on behalf of the claimant. Now that was all arranged to Colburn's entire satisfaction. "Have you engaged an attorney?' said Colburn. •'I went to Mv, Clayton, but he was engaged on the other side." "Very good, I have been thinking about your case. I rather think it will win. If I undertake the case and succeed, I shall expect $1,000." "You shall have it." "Then sit right down in that chair and tell me the whole'story—make a clean breast of jt« If we are to win, I must know aU-r-even your- most secret thoughts" (ft favprite expressipu of Colburn's). The claimant's story—so far as it re^ Iate4 tq the prpp.psed siijt--wa,g not ft long one, BTig true name was. WOMAH AM) HOME each other, to aid this the best of &'ftt MISCELLANY Some torrent fcotas of fftfefitdft— tfigfabrn Hat is tlclftfc Tvpldtetl ffatd All (Wftnnor bf Shapes—tiltits for the Household. fl E MILLINERS are tnonkey ing with the buzz Saw in all sorts of ways this summer. All kinds of tricks ate played With big hats, and somehow the girl beneath looks pfet* ty no matter how she has her hat twisted. Great leghorns take a big ruche of mull about ;he crown on the outside, and another to come against the hair on the underside. Then with two wide sashes of mull the wearer ties down the hat on either side, making a regular couu* try poke of it. and at the bottom of the poke tho pretty face is as demure and modest as "Patience's" own. Black leghorns are bent into cocked mts, each side fastened with a big rosette of butter colored lace, and an elaborate jet and jeweled buckle is Added to one of the rosettes. The hat sketched herewith is of fancy mordore straw and is partly covered with embroidered lace and twisted up behind saucily, A bunch of re d roses gam- shea the hat in front and a smaller bunch, together with several black velvet loops, is placed in the back. Elaborate rosettes of loce laid on a slight flat wire foundation, and with a spreading bow of half-inch velvet ribbon right on top, make very dainty iiats for wear With wash dresses. A pretty variation of this notion is a frill of wide lace gathered to a center, and with tho very edge drawn back fifftrii'* ftiftttfc Mi's. Mart Ci-osland states, in her "Literacy Lfthdttfifks," thai L&ct# Blessingtbn and other of the poet Byron's intimates pronounced his name "Uirfofi." *h<S cohclasiofl drattfa i» that its oWner 1 must hard pronounced It that wfty himself, According ttf. Leigh Hunt,Kyron Called hittiseM bdth '•Byron" find "Birfbii." the Guicciolf called him "Bairon," and Mary Jane Clairmont's daughter figures in the codicil which concerns her as "Allegra Biton." Very Simple, But » There is nothing 1 so difficult foJ* a dressmaker to make as a perfectly simple toilet. This model is that sort It is brown taffeta silk, worth at a special sale about 90 cents. A bit of green ribbon velvet is put on the edge of the bodice, and a bit of steel fringe trims tho yoke. A bodice laden with revers and flchu pieces would be easier to make and easier to wear. fe? tKft gef«4 DAINTY MUSLIN GOWKS. just in front till it reaches the central point. Here the joining is hidden by the wide bow of narrow ribbon. For the girl with a piquant face such ft hat is delicious. Plumes play about the pretty faces these days, the wide brims of the hats are turned up all around, and over tkpir edges droop great soft curling feithers which seem to spring from ftV. parts of the inner side. An es* &t Among tne arrivals '«' dental the othef da? Wai Mf». Case* ft fSisiiotfafy oi tfiei Ateiridtfl Baptist board in Up|je? feurmab/ ! W%_ was acc-ompaniad b? fat two ehiWrW^ and Miss Ma Mo Bwih, a BUPffli girl o! about 18 years. Mrs. Case has been in I mah many years, and has had lull remarkable, as well as vefy' da'ngi oii3, experiences) says the Sau i'ra: Cisco Examined. She related some: of them, while the native' gl?Val*f rayed in the queer flosiunie 8f 4K« *,. country whence they dame,'sat fif&r^ by and gravely accentuated the by sundry bows. The ehildfsn i while climbed on her lap- and talked® In the strange language which had learned in Upper Burmah. "At the time I had my moat —-„* gei'ous experience," said Mrs. Casd* 1 :" we wore living in the outskirts 6t ' Myingan, a town of 18,000 people, seventy miles below Mandely* thay capital city of King Theebaw. Nu-*' merous bands of Dacoits were travel- 1 ing about and committing crimes, ' robberies and murdering the people. - J The Dacoits are really marauders} • that is tho meaning of the word <3a- coifc. Tho natives are composed of, many different people, as, foi* instance, the Karens, the Chins, the Kochins, the Shans and the Burmese. • They are all, however, of Mongolian, origin. . \ "The people inclined to rob would' 1 get a bo, or general, and set out, ,then they moved about In mariy4 bands, especially in the district^ in which we were situated,) <;, and they robbed and killed j people right and left. My husband' was away, and for several nights I j walked a porch we had in front off, our house with a revolver in my'* A FANCY 8TBAW. peclajly long and curly tip cqmes for ward from the bapk jtnd almost cee<Js in carressing the smooth in Inter hand, not knowing what moment dacoits might come. I / had no one - * ; with mo but the servant girl and a >\ native man. i 1 All this time tho different bands wore going about killing, maiming 1 '^ and robblngi If the victim resisted ho was attacked, and maybe he would be anyway. If they got very angry 1 "'* at those who resisted they would 1 ; out their arms off at a blow, or cut them" off by pieces with their hatchets. Some times a man's aim was cut off in half a dozen or more pieces. There wore, many instances of great cruelty. Luckily for us wo were not attacked, though we hardly knew how we escaped. "King Theebaw, a9 has been learned, was cognizant of the work " of tho dacoits, and oven encouraged l them, while he received a good share of the profits. But the British government has taken him in hand. He has been deposed and sent to India, , along with his retinues, where he is ' now receiving several thousand dol- J lars a year. Things are, therefore, changed in Upper Burmah. It is • peaceable and free from anything of that kind. Uncovered His Long I^ost Memory. Authentic instances of old people who have recovered lost sight, hear-" ing or speech, or who have grown a ' v third set of'Vteeth or a supplementary crop of hair, are not uncommon. But cases in which perfect memory has been regained after being impaired almost to the verge of extinction by paralytic shocks are rare. This, however, has happened, to William McEntee. an old man of 84, residing on North Twenty-eighth street. During 1 the recent storm he insisted upon taking his daily walk, and in consequence was laid up with,' a severe cold, While sitting in his arm chair after his recovery, a day or two since, he found himself hum- „ ming an air which he had not heard since he was a boy in the Emerald Isle. Then he began to tell a story ,. which the old song 1 recalled, and, to the amazement of his family, went on to recite incidents events not only of long ago, but of more rocent dates, et which before/ bis brief illness he had no recollection.—Philadelphia Record. A. Dainty Muslin Gown, Muslin, which always makes a dainty IpQking gown, is to /be preferred whenVit is embroi4e?Bjd. The em- broideVed material does'-p'ot cost much more.-and the little 'figures upon it, tend to give it a body, which is most desirable. ,as the fabric will not then so easily wrinkle and grow stringy, For wear under a muslin skirt I would advise two thin skirts of lawn prettily trimmed with frills of the same, unless, indeed, one should be fortunate enough to possess a white silk skirt. The frock pictured in the'illustration is made with the usual flaring skirt, and has for its decoration two frills of the material edged with a rather poarso lace, each flounce having a row of insertion set in, the width pf material between the insertion and edge being a little over one inch. The upper flounce is draped a regular intervals and caught with a rosette of white satin ribbon. The bodice, which is full blouse, has strips of the insertion alternating with strips of the material set in, so that it looks as if the fabric were bought in that way. In reality, yards pf the material &re arranged in that fashion and then pu_t as it is necessary, The high eotlftr is fpi'jneejl pf a bjod p| t« e insertJQJ), with ft rosette Pf white satin rjbbpjj pn. PUS side. The sleeves, which are fulj, are pi muslin, and have stiuare paps foriaeij pf rpwi of tipp and jnu,4in falling over, the $b,ouldep to. the si" » ban<J pf,rjtiop A Not no Low as "I'm sick," whined the tramp ,at tho kitchen door, "and will yow' please give me just a piece of breat} »nd butter? 1 '"Nothing mean about, ypu is there," responded the ohftvi-* tably-inoUned oook^ "No ma'am/,, there ain't." "Perhaps would like to have some on yourbread?" said cook with sarcasm. The tramp' drew back dignifledly. "Expose^ me," he said, "I may have my weaky nesses, but I hardly think there anything in my manner to you in thinking I am a ~ senator." Apd the cook on the spot,—Detroit Free ipi-pss). I|e Shoulil We More C^retnl, • i ; A young girl, tall, ourly-he,ade,4 and bright-eyed, sat neap the stand of which, her. fa.ta9)' is owner, in Brooklyn. Cfearl^s Erwin tried to kiss her and have succeeded. She, screamed, was arrested, but, protesting t9 tioe Goetting that his arrest was outrage, for the girl had put Jw " in a, kissing position, ho was charged, with a n>Ud oftutiQS tQ careful. The puWip tmildijig Q{ when finished, wilt highest tower- pn a,ny wqrld- Jt will Jw 5§? Tble building coveys, fouj WUI be. fljUsb,ed, n. 9S i yea.? Of4iQ,W,OQQ, ,

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