The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on March 24, 1897 · Page 3
Get access to this page with a Free Trial

The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

Publication:
Location:
Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, March 24, 1897
Page:
Page 3
Start Free Trial
Cancel

' IOWA, mmssDjL't. MABOtt : M..i»n ' "'' * ''"*'" -.': ' mon reiuru.» B to his senses he told *ltU great excitement, that he had ' eeeft Madeline; moreover, this he had seen a mail with her—a *ho had placed his hand upon and kept it there; and so, o CarriBton's wild reasoning, account of the contact, visi- >had watched them for Moments, until the man tlghteh- ' the girl's arm, eftdeav- ljdttc. At this o follow him moiure, .unaware that he was gazing ! a Sn, he had rushed to her assist' in the frantic way t have de— then he awoke. He also told me he had studied the LM'B features and general appearance Ct carefully with a view to future rienition. All these ridiculous state„ nts were made as he made the for- If ones, with the air of relating sini- Li e undeniable facts-one speaking the Intain unvarnished truth, and expecting Jull credence to he given to his words. XII. T was too absurd! too sad! It was ev- I'.ident tome that the b a i' r i e r between his 'hallucinations, dreams, visions, or whatever he choso to call them, and pure insanity, was now a very slight and fragile one. But before I gave his case up as hopeless I determined to raahc another, strong appeal to his common sense. I told him of his cousin's ! visit to me—of 'his intentions and prop| osltlon. I begged him to consider what consequences his extraordinary beliefs and extravagant actions must eventually entail. He listened attentively and [ calmly. "You see now," he said, "how right I I was in attributing all this to Ilalph Carriston—how right I was to come to you, a doctor of standing, who can I vouch for my sanity." "Vouch for your sanity! How can I when you sit here and talk such arrant nonsense, and expect me to believe it? When you jump from your chair and rush madly at some visionary foe? Sane as you may be in all else, any evidence I could give in your favor must break dawn in cross-examination if an'inkling of these things got about. Came, Carriston, be reasonable, and prove your sanity by setting about this search for Miss Rowan: in a proper way." ' He made no reply, but walked up and down the room apparently in deep thought. My words seemed to have had no effect upon him. Presently he seated himself; and, as if to avoid returning to the argument, drew a book at hazard from my shelves and began to read. He opened the volume at-random, but'after .reading a few lines seemed struck by something that met Ills eyes, and in a few minutes was deeply immersed in the contents of the book, I glanced at it to see what had so awakened his interest. By a curious fatality he had chosen a book the very worst for him in his present frame of mind—Gilchrist's recently published life of William Blake, that masterly 7 memoir of a man who was on certain points as mad as Carriston 'himself. I was about to remonstrate,, when he laid down the volume and turned to me. "Varley, the painter," 'ho said, "was a firm'believer in Blake's visions." "Vavley was a bigger fool than Blake," I retorted. "Fancy his sitting down and watching his clever but mad friend draw spectral heads, and believing them to be genuine portraits of dead, kings whose forms' condescended to appear to Blake!" A sudden thought seemed to strike CarriBton. "Will you. give me some paper and chalk?" he asked. Upon being furnished with these materials, he seated himself at the 1 table and began to dvaw, At least a dozen times he sketched, with his usual rapidity, some object or another, and-a dozen times, after a moment's consideration, threw each sketch aside with an air of disappointment and began a fresh' one. At last one of his attempts seemed to •tyrae up to his requirements. "I have it »w, exactly!" he cried, with joy— e^fen triumph—in his'voice. He spent S 9»e time in< putting .finishing touches to 'the successful sketch, and then'he kswided me the paper. "That is the roan I saw just now Vita Madeline," he sa.jd, "When I find «tw I fjltaii find her." He spoke with all .sincerity and conviction. I loqked 1 write this, lies before me. so that I a to not speaking from memory. Now, there ard some portraits of which, without having seen the original, we say, "What splendid likenesses these must he." It was so with Cardston's sketch. Looking at it you felt sure it was exactly like the man whom It was intended to represent. So that, with tho certain amount of art knowledge, which 1 am at least supposed to possess, it was hard for me, after examining the drawing and recognizing the true artist's touch in every lifte, to bring myself to accept 'the fact that It was but the outcome of a diseased imagination. As, at this very moment, 1 glance at that drawing, I scarcely blame myself for the question that faintly frames itselE In my innermost heart. "Could it be possible—could there be In certain organizations powers not yet known—not yet properly investigated?" My thought—supposing such a thought was ever there—was not discouraged by Carriston, who, speaking as If his faith in the bodily existence of the man whose portrait lay in my hand was unassailable, said: "I noticed that his general appearance was that of a countryman—an English peasant;' so In the country I shall, find my love. Moreover, it will be easy to identify the man, as the top joint is missing from the middle finger of his right haud. As it lay on Madeline's arm I noticed that." I argued with him no-more. I felt that w,ords would be but wasted. "1 found there was nothing to b6 gained by keeping watch on the gentleman you mentioned, sis% so 1 weht to Scotland and tried back front there. As soon as 1 worked on my own lay I found out all about it. the lady went from Callendar to Edinburgh, from Edinburgh to Lbndon, from London to Folkestone, and from Folkestone to Boulogne." I glanced at Carriston. All his calmness seemed to have returned. He wad leaning against the mantel-piece, and LEWBB. OP StAQ'E POLK. Hilda Thotnft* rtml lit* VfentttfC* —the ttollnml ili>tttli*>r« 1>« Sot App*i>* trt Advrtrttnse In the Sam** JPlnj—\Viint lirtit Acting Ctttt lift. • XIII. DAY or two a^t.er'1 had witnessed what I must call Carriston's second seizure we were favored with a visit from the man whose services we had secured to trace Madeline. Since he had received his instructions we had heard nothing of his proceedings until he now called to report progress in person. Carriston had not expressed the slightest curiosity as to where the man was or what he was about. Probably he looked upon the employment of this private detective as nothing more useful than a salve to my conscience. That Madeline was only to be found through the power which lie professed to hold of seeing her in his visions was, I felt certain, becoming a rooted belief of his. Whenever I expressed my surprise that our agent had brought or sent no information, Carriston shrugged his shoulders, and assured me that from the first he knew the man's researches would be fruitless. However, the fellow had called at last, and, I hoped, had brought us good news. He was a glib-tongucd man, who spoke in a confident, matter-of-fact way. When he saw us, he rubbed his hands as one who had brought affairs to a successful issue, and now meant to reap praise and other rewards. His whole bearing told me he had made an important discovery; so I begged him to bo seated, and give us his news. Carriston gave him a careless glance, and stood at some little distance from us* He looked as if he thought the impending communication scarcely worth the 'trouble of listening to. He might, indeed, from his looks, have been the most disinterested person of the throe. He even left me to do the questioning. "New, then, Mr. Sharpe," I said, "let us hear if you have earned your money." . "I think so, sir," replied Sharpo,. looking curiously at Cnrriston, who, strange to say, heard his answer with supreme indifference. "I think I may say I have, sir," continued the detective; "that is, if the gentleman can identify these articles as being the lady's property." thereupon he produced, from a thick lettercase, a ribbon, in which was stuck a silver pin, mounted with Scotch pebbles, an ornament that I remembered having seen Madeline wear. Mr, Sharpe handed them to Carriston. He examined them, and I saw his cheeks flush and his eyes grow bright. "How did you come by this?' he cried, pointing to the silver ornament, "I'll tell you presently, sir, Do you recognize it?" "I gave it to Miss Rowan myself. "Then we- are on the right track," I cried, joyfully. "Go on, Mr. Sharpe." "Yes gentlemen, we are certainly on the right track; but after all it isn't my fault if the track don't lead exactly where you wish, YOU see, when I heard of this mysterious disappearance of the lady I began to concoct my own appeared quite unmoved by Mr. Sharpe's clear statement as to the route Madeline had taken. "Of course," continued Mr. Sharpe, "1 was not cluite certain I Was tracking the right person, although her flescrip- tlon corresponded with the likeness you gavo nie. But as you ai'e sure this article of jewelry belonged to the lady you want, the matter is beyond a doubt." "Of course," I said, seeing that Car^ rlstoh had no intention of speaking. "Where did you find it?" "It was left behind In a bedroom of one of the principal 'hotels in Folkestone. I did go over to Boulogne, but after that I thought I had learned all you would care to know.'' There was something in the man's manner which made me dread what was coming. Again 1 looked at Carriston, • His lips were- curved with contempt, but he still kept silence. "Why not have pursued your inquiries past Boulogne?" I asked. "For 'this reason, sir. I had learned enough. The theory I had concocted was the right one after all. The lady went to Edinburgh alone,.right enough; •but she didn't leave Edinburgh alone, nor did she leave London alone, nor she didn't stay at Folkestone—where I found .the pin—alone, nor she didn't go to Goulogno alone, She was accompanied by a young gentleman who called himself Mr. Smith; and, what's more, she called herself Mrs. Smith. Perhaps she was, as they lived like man and wife." Whether the fellow was right or mistaken, this explanation of Madeline's disappearance seemed to give me what 1 can only compare to a smack in the face. I stared at the speaker in speechless astonishment. If the tale ho told so glibly and circumstantially was true, farewell, so far as I was concerned, to belief in the love or 'purity of woman. Madeline Rowan, that creature of a poet's dream, on the eve of her marriage with Charles Carriston, to 'fly, whether wed or unwed mattered little, with another man! And yet, she was but a woman. Carriston—or Carr, as she only knew him—was in her eyes poor. The companion "of her flight might have won her with gold. Such things have been. Still (New York Correspondence.) 1LOA THOMAS, who has become prominent in legitimate role circles, was first Introduced to New York atldl- ences by Tony Pastor, to whotti she gratefully ackttowt- osene lamp. At tbe ttoinent whefc tnfc scene had reached its clifflax, tfce detective, with ft piece erf board, slashed the laftip, add every light In the fcotise — bn the stage as welt as in the aiidt : toriutn was turnefl out* the flodr of the stage had been sanded, with the intention of ijf&ducing the effect of scut- fling feet in the dark, the Idea, being to uphold the tension the attdiehce depending exclusively upon the sense" of hearing td convey what was going On upon the stage. As sotm as the lights were turned down on the opening night, the occupants of the gallefy, who had been worked Into a condition of great excitement, hurst Into cheers and applause so wildly enthusiastic that nothing else could be heard, 86, of course, the shtiftllhg of feet Oft the sanded floor Waa lost, and ft scene that gave every advance indication of great uenenin vomompu < > ^v 9 i,^ ;* Mr*. Wh»e1<Sr~Afttf ?<m jtits& ftfof W* ^l, cause yoti do- net t&$6ti «|m? . ' _.',, -;\ j| mm Wh««st-cettAinijr ¥tw. wjw*, >*•$ wftttA, <fc we. ait i ftttffl WjuwwsjL ; .$ man •ttto fmsttes his wheat tip lull By Vttmli ,vIn by laying over the eyes a nfipfeift wet -flftll , cold water. , : •_'._'•-.,~>.- MflAt winter seHdtt* i phA^f te---;vi * «i» <-*A'' : -;8 . f/iioA i-HoMAS. edges she owes Hiiich of her sttc» cess. She always refers with pride to the great success made by her in his theater through her rendering of the song, "Sally in Our Alley," she having sung It almost constantly at that house for a period of two years. After leaving Mr. Pastor's company &<ie appeared successfully in I-I. Grattan Donnelly's "Fashion," Hal* len & Hart's "Later On," Prank Daniels' "Little Puck," and also in the English production of "Faust Up to Date," In which she filled the title role. She also acquired considerable reputation as a comic opera prima donna with the Thompson Opera company. She was selected to play Gabriel, in Rice's "Evangelinc," whnn n big'production of.' that work was given at the Boston theater, in 1801, nnd met with great success in the part, having won the favor of both press and public. Foi tho past two years Miss Thomas has been playing the first-class vaudeville theaters in conjunction with Frank Barry, and their act has been received with much favor. On May 10, 1895 Miss Thomas introduced at Hopkins State Street theater, Chicago, 111., an entirely original character, being ar imitation of a Bowery soubrette making her first appearance on an ama teur night, singing off the key anc doing a sand jig. Miss Thomas is am strength fell dead, Sarsaparilla Purffie*.' AH dfuS«IMs. anaUtfol the Holland Urotliern. Edward M. Holland and his brother Joseph seem to bo making a great mis- ake in starring together. The -work of one appears to counteract that of the other. Both are clever men, but .heir methods are so Utterly dissimilar hat it is hard work to secure a good >lay that will give each a stellar role. E. M. Holland is the better artist of the two, but this delightfully subtle little gentleman is what we call a character actor, and his charm vanishes as soon as the starry glare Is focused upon it. Joseph, the long, dark brother, has no pnbtlety, but he owns all the characteristics of the successful leading man, and, to succeed, he should either be a leading member of a stock company or a star all by himself. I'm very much, interested in the Hollands. They are a brace of capital fellows, and it is a pity to see- them angling dlscour- aglngly In such unprofitable waters. They need the advice of some highly experienced manager. No highly experienced manager would have permitted them to set forth In such a play as 'Dr. Claudius," for instance, proved to be. The brothers themselves are simple, guileless children, or they would never have embarked upon' such an enterprise. The Holland's should separated as soon as possible. In these Hood's 'Pills 1,340, CONSTANT SHOE BEST III TIE WORLD. For.I* fen.ru thin »lme,by meritnlone. . him dlBtnnued *U competitor*. > Indorsed by over 1.000000 wcarem W tlio best. In «f>lo, lit nnd Jin ability of iiny clioe nyei' offei'- eil ivl WU.OO., It IB nmde In nil the Intent ftllAt'KS and ntylei nnd of every valleiy ot Icntlier. . '* Olid donlor in a, , town Riven exululi- ," Ire gold and lulver-' ' lined In locnl paper , on receipt of rwiBon- nblo oilier. Wilts tot' oatolocuo to , \V. J,. 1MIUWI./VS, Jirorktoil, Alliw. My rapid and wrongful meditations were cut short in an unexpected way. Suddenly I saw Mr. Sharpe dragged hodily out of his chair and thrown on to the floor, whilst Carriston, standing' over him, thrashed the man vigorously with 'his own ash stick—a convenient weapon, so convenient that I felt Mr. Sharpe could not have selected a slick more appropriate for his own chastisement. So Carriston seemed to think for he laid on cheerfully somo eight or ten good cutting strokes. Nevertheless, being a respectable doctor and man of peace, I was compelled to interfere, I held Carrlston's arm whilst Mr. Sharpe struggled to his feet and, after collecting his hat and his pocketbook, stood glaring vengefully at his assailant, and rubbing the while such of the wales on his back as he could reach. Annoyed as I felt at the unprofessional fracas, I could scarcely, help laughing at the man's appearance. T doubt the possibility of anyone looking heroic after such a thrashing. (TO US COKTf5ftJBB. * WILL KEEP YOU DRY. 1 Don't be fooled with a mackintosh I I or rubber coat. If you wantncoatj 1 that will keep you dry In the hard-1 Jest storm buy the 1-lsli. Brand I ISIIcker. If not for sale In your | J town, write for catalogue to t j," A. J. TOWER, Boston, Mass. MATUON CUL'LEN. . . tlje paper Svith, I am bound to say, «• great amount of curiosity, N,Q' rnattep from what visionary CamstQA Uad drawn his ^ sketch, was vigorous and eagygh, l have already mentioned md.erfvv} pgwcr pj drawing por- fyo.rn l-'tbe BO was , jiftvo j-e.prpau.ced Q| S Qm, e face which st.ruciy; him. yet why theory. I said to myself, when a young and beautiful-—" "Confound your theories!" cried Cai- riston, fiercely. "Go on with your tale," The man gave his interrupter a spiteful glance. "Well, sir," he said, "as you gave me strict instructions to watch (», certain gentleman closely, I those instructions, of course, I know I was pn a fad's or - ipK of Tol<!gi'ui>|i ,1'olcs. "Yes," said Joseph Donner, superintendent of telegraph for the South-, ern Pacific railroad, "telegrap'h poles along the line have a hard. time. Particularly is this BO out west, .where the poles are costly and stations are few and far between. Now put in Arizona desert the poles are played the deuce wtih generally. There Is a sort of woodpecker that picks the posts absolutely 'to pieces, thinking there may be insects inside the wood. ! They hear the 'humming and 'haven't sense enough to know what causes it. Then near the 'hills the black bears imagine that each pole contains u. swarm, of bees and they climb to the top and c'hew the glass insulators -to pieces; but the sand storms are the things that create the most havoc. , When the wind blows strongly the sand is drifted at'a rapid rate ar.rt the grains cutaway the wood at a fearful rate, It was a common thing to have an oak pole worn to a shaving in a day's time, 'While I have seen poles just ground in v the surface of the earth during a. single storm. Things are so bad out there that the company decided to substitute ateol poles for the,oak and cedar, but that didn't remedy the evil at all, The sand just wore away the metal on each side of the pole until the center was as sharp as a razor, and all the Indians used to shave themselves on the edge. We finally managed to fi* things. Just painted the poles with soft pitch, The pjto'h caught the sand, and now every .pole }s ab,out two feet thick and as, as a vocte."r-Ne\v Orleans jjemocrat. bitious and conscientious, and has the reputation of striving to constantly present to the public something new. A l.ato Addition. Marion G. Cullcn i» a recent debutante upon the dramatic stage who has given evidence of fitness for her chosen calling, and whose future.is-bright wlth ; promise. She was born in Boston, Mass., nineteen years ago, and prioy to the beginning of her professional career had won a local reputation as an amateur reader and actress. She is now-filUng her first professional engagement in "The. Sunshine of Paradise Alley," in wh'ich she has ttie principal role, Nellie McNally. She is of pleasing appearance and of modest demeanor; of good' stature and of easy, graceful carriage. Her acting is marked by intelligence and refinement, and although she has thus far had hut little opportunity for achievement, she has everywhere made a good Jmpres- slon, and, by furnishing proof of merit, has fairly woij a welcome to the stage. .FrtiUt of the Actor. In the first-night presentation of "New York" at the American theater there were no less than two Illustrations of the way in which scenes that ought to be effective may go wrong through entirely unforeseen conditions. In the first tvct the principal wom&n in the piece, who had murdered her seducer, was supposed to be lying in, the hospital. After her ostensible demise had been duly yecwa«l, one pS the phy- ^slciftns whoJiad fallen desperately la jove with, PS patient, came Ja, BlfR/3 Q( Jlf<?, 8tS|rte4 *P WHY Is A Bear Like the Liver? BECAUSE Both Become Torpid In Winter. I Dr, Ka^s Renovator Will give the Liver a healthy Action, Cure All Stomach Trouble, Regulate the Kidneys. Cure Dyspepsia and put the whole body In 'good shape for the Spring work. Send for Freo Sample and Bqoklqt. Dr. B. J. KAY MEDICAL CO., OMAHA, NEB. cases union is not strength, It is decided weakness. It halves the usefulness of each, E. M. Holland Is as capa- 1)1^ an actor as. America owns, and Joseph's value will always be apparent. One star in a company, however, is. bad enough. Two stars are almost impossible to cope with. Moreover, the lack of playwrights is so distressing that the Hollands will probably fare very badly unless they take instant stops to improve .their condition. Naturally they both want good parts, Each had plenty of lines in "Dr. Claudius.": Actors rarely look beyond their own' roles, and their is nothing blinder than one star except perchance two stars. YOUR RULING PLANET DISCOVERED D.r i *.* 4>/i1stfVir isthe title of 1'iof. 0. W|. KV ASllOlOfiV Cunnl«sl>ain's nuw w»* ; . f ""»• T QjL on mis wonderful fclfiicr. Tliu luador win Dually tell )|U or Ills friends' llllllilKT Vianet, yiieie In also wueli otU" 1 v«luM>l«» Information ancl tho lioi oacopes of 1'rcsldimt M cKliuoy uu<l Win. J. Bryan, Wf, pojtpuW, »pc, SOo liiill Sl.OO, tuicoidliiB to binding, FREE TEST BEADIHBSSWiSWS 111 .?: parties wlione letters Iwfipen to lot 1st, Sill, dill ujiil JSth opened in encli dfty's niftil. AH appllcunla uuiot comply with the following conditional Send uus, ial'0 ornatlouftlUy, plp.ce, jour, mouth, ditto »nd tlmo o£ birth, a, HI. or p. in., »» new as possible, All nlimws will Deceive Iticlr ri-adlna pud tUuIr tiu icluruud luf* 'go for p iiy for lna All »pplleutlonn mu»( contain in cime you »)« not tli» a to piiy winner, Sewfl »t Ouuuj you are just, a« apt to win as nayono, find If yoy dv not, you will >ccet»u a vain-! able tent by aetiology for the ijm»ll sum of %lv. 'fhosa »dt knowing tln"> ot b| rtl' suoulrt send lo forfuitne* Addroaa JJuelc to VtnidqyHle, James Richmond Glenroy, the well known comedian, was born in Ireland, In September, 1859, and was brought to this country in 1861. For the past eighteen years ho has been closely connected with the theatrical business, and has become widely known as a capable performer, Accompanied by h}s .-yrtfe, Letba Qlenroy, wbq worked with him from 1$83 to J89Q, when stte died, he has been connected with the following companies; Weber & Fields', two seasons; l»-wi» Bros,', two. sea? fjons; Fred WaJdemanVtwo seaspnsj James Hyde's, RQkevt Manchester's, the Howard Athenaeum, Frederick's.'& Pouglass', QJa Hoyden's Vaudevilles, Russell Brothers', TJllQtsQn & Fells', and Qeqrge Cattle's peJehrHias, • He is at present with P&vls, •& JSepgh's "Oft the, Mississippi," put will shortly re- PROF, 6, W, CUNNINGHAM, Pept. 4,1948. Qllnto Chicago, HI. appear vaudeville stage in specialty,. ,, , . HALL'S Vegetable Sicilian, HAIR RENEWER Be^Mtifies and restore^ Qr^y Hair tp Hs original color'and" vitality; prevent* baldness;' cure? itching and A fine hair dressings

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