The Oregon mist., September 22, 1911, Image 2

f serial"?
STORY J
e Courtship
oMiles
Standish
With Illustrations
by
Howard Chandler Christy
iCoprrtgtil, Tb iiobb- M.mil txoipnr
Miles Standish
In the Old Colony days. In Plymouth
the Jand of the Pilgrims.
To and fro In a room of his simple
and primitive dwelling.
Clad in doublet and nose, and boots of
Cordovan leather.
Strode, with a martial air. Miles
Standish, the Puritan Captain.
Buried in thought he seemed, with his
hands behind him, and pausing
Ever and anon to behold bis glitter
ing weapons of warfare,
Hanging In shining array along the
walls of the chamber
Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his
trusty sword of Damascus,
Curved at the point and Inscribed with
its mystical Arabic sentence.
While underneath. In a corner, were
fowling-piece, musket, and match
lock. Short of stature he was, but strongly
built and athletic.
Broad In the shoulders, deep-chested.
with muscles and sinews of Iron;
Brown as a nut w-as his face, but his
russet beard was already
Flaked with patches of snow, as
hedges sometimes In November.
Near him was seated John Alden, his
friend and household companion,
Writing with diligent speed at a table
of pine by the window;
Fair-haired, aiure-eyed, with delicate
Saxon complexion.
Having the dew of youth, and the
beauty thereof, as the capUvea
Whom Saint Gregory saw, and ex
claimed, "Not Angles, but Angels."
Youngest of all was he of the men
who came in the Mayflower.
Suddenly breaking the silence, the
diligent scribe interrupting.
Spake, in the pride of his heart. Miles
Standish, the Captain of Plymouth.
"Look at these arms." he said, "the
warlike weapons that hang here
Burnished arid bright and clean, aa if
for parade or inspection!
This is the sword of Damascus I
fought with In Flanders; this
breastplate.
Well I remember the day! once saved
my life in a skirmish;
Here in front you can see the very
dint of the bullet
Fired point-blank at my heart by a
Spanish arcabucero.
Had it not been of sheer steel, the for
gotten bones of Miles Standish
Would at this moment be mold. In
their grave in the Flemish
morasses."
Thereupon answered John Alden, but
looked not up from bis writing:
"Truly the breath of the Lord hath
slackened the speed of the bullet;
He in his mercy preserved you. to be
our shield and our weapon!"
Still the Captain continued, unheeding
the words of thfi stripling:
"See, how bright they are burnished,
as if In an arsenal hanging;
That is because I have done it my
self, and cot left it to others.
I4v is
, The Puritan Maiden, Prlscllla.
Serve yourself, would you be well
served, Is an excellent adage;
So t take care of my arms, as you of
your pens and your Inkborn. .
Then, too, there are my soldiers, my
great Invincible army,
Twelve men, all equipped, having each
bis rest and bis matchlock.
Eighteen shilling a month, together
with diet and pillage.
And, like Caesar, I know the name of
each of rny soldiers!"
This be said with a smile, that danced
In his eyes, as the sunbeams
Price on the waves of the sea, and
vanish again in a moment.
Alden laughed as be wrote, and till
the Captain continued:
"Look! you can see from this window
my brazen howitzer planted
High on the roof of the church, a
preacher who speaks to the pur
pose. Steady, straightforward, and strong,
with irresistible logic.
Orthodox, flashing conviction right
into the hearts of the heathen.
Now we are ready. I think, for any
assault of the Indians;
I.t them come. If they like, and the
sooner they try It the better
Let them come. If they like, be It saga
more, sachem, or powwow,
Asplnet. Samoset. Corbltant, Squanto,
or Tokamahamon!"
Long at the window he stood, and
wistful')- gazed on the landscape,
Washed with a colj gray mist, the
vapory breath of the east wind.
Forest and meadow and hill, and the
steel-blue rim of the ocean,
Lying si'ent and sad. In the afternoon
shadows and sunshine.
Over his countenance flitted a shadow
like thote on the landscape.
Gloom jntermiiig!ed with light; and
his voice was subdued with emo
tion. Tenderness, pity, resret, as 'after a
pause he proceeded:
. w'.y .1'
mi
4
"Look at These
'Yonder there, on the hill by the sea,
lies burled Rose Standish;
Beautiful rose of love, that bloomed
for me by the wajf-lde!
She was the first to die of a!l who
came in the Mayflower!
Green above her is growing the Beld
of wheat we have sown there.
High Degree
Fidelity SHown by Virginia
"Darky" That AnnaU of
History M ly Be
Searched to
Milch.
Dick was a nigger, just a Virginia
slave nigger. When a little boy, he
was scullion in the kitchen. He car
ried the wood and water for the cook.
and scoured the pots and kettles, and
turned the spit when the turkey was
roasting, dipping and basting the
gravy from the pan, and nodding in
his work after the manner of all small
darkles.
When the war came the carriage
rested In the carriage bouse, the
horses were taken by the Yankees,
and Dick became my servant in the
army of the south a gentleman's gen
tleman, as he called himself.
No man ever had a more faithful
and devoted follower than I had In
Dick. He was captured twice with me
by Union forces, and each time re
fused the freedom which his capture
gave him. "I don't want to be no freer
than I always has been," he said on
both of these occasions. Once I dis
charged him for being drunk. Think
of discharging a slave! It was at
Chattanooga, and Dick hung around
headquarters for several days and was
very unhappy. Finally he came to me
with a Bible in bis hand and said: "I
wants to swear on this that if you will
take ma back I will not drink a drop
during the war." He took the oath
and kept It faithfully to the end, at
Appomattox.
When I was captured at Rich Moun
tain I was 111, and was sent to the
FederaJ hospital, an immense tent. I
had not fully recovered when we evac
uated our position, and wandering
about the mountains In the rain for
two days and two nights without food
had brought on a relapse. And be
Better to hide from the Indian scouts
the graves of our people.
Lest they should count them and see
how many already have perished!"
Sadly his face he averted, and strode
up and down, and was thoughtful.
Fixed to the opposite wall was a
shelf of books, and among them
Prominent three, distinguished alike
for bulk and for binding;
Ilartffe's Artillery Guide, and the Com
mentaries of Caesar,
Out of the Latin translated by Arthur
Uoltlltige of London.
And. as If guarded by these, between
them was standing the Bible.
Musing a moment before them. Miles
Sttuullsh paused, as If doubtful
Which of the three he should choose
for bis contolatlun and comfort.
Whether the wars of the Hebrews, the
famous campaigns of the Konians.
Or the Artillery practice, designed for
belligerent Christians.
Finally down from Its shelf heCragged
the ponderous Roman,
Seated himself at the window, and
opened the book, and In silence
Turned o'er the well-worn leaves.
where thumb-marks thick on the
margin.
Like the trample of feet, proclaimed
the battle was hottest.
Nothing was heard In the room but
the hurrying pen of the stripling,
riustlr writing epistles Important, to
go by the Mayflower.
Ready to sail on the morrow, or next
;
mm
Arms," He 8ald.
day at latest, God willing!
Homeward bound with the tidings ot
all that terrible winter,
Letters written by Alden, and full of
the name of Prlscllla,
Full of the name and the fame of the
Puritan maiden Prlscllla! -
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
of Devotion
sides enduring the exposure, we had
forded the river nine times in the
vain effort to avoid large bodies of the
enemy's troops. The sand had got
Into my boots, and when my socks
were taken off, the skin came off with
them. I was a pitiable object. Dick
stuck to me. He was free now to go
where he pleased, but he never left
me. He was by my cot all day, kept
off the flies from my raw and skinless
feet, and did what he could to allevi
ate my sufferings. At night he crept
under my cot and took his only rest
on the bare ground. When I was well
enougli to go north with Colonel Peg
ram, I asked Dirk what he was going
to do, now that he was free. He said
that he would go with me. When I
told him that was Impossible, he
said: "Well, If I can't go with you,
I will go back to Mis' LIzle" (my
wife).
When he was leaving I gave htm
200 in Virginia Valley bank notes fit
was before the days of Confederate
money), and he walked 263 miles by
way of Staunton 150, and down the
valley, a hundred and thirteen to my
home In the valley, and gave my wife
1& of the money. MaJ. A. R. H. Ran
son. Late Major of Artillery, C. 8. A.,
In Harper's Magazine.
Physical Limitations.
There was a very stupid play pre
sented early' In tbs New York season,
sn "adaptation" It was called by ths
author. Even the best-natured critics
went away In disgust One newspaper
representative turned to another and
said: "If this Jumble had been pre
sented on the other side of ths water
It would have been hissed. As there
were a lot of foreign visitors present
I wonder that it was not."
"It really Is wonder," was tbs
other's rsply. "I would like to have
blssed myself, but you can't yawn. I
and hiss at ths same Urns." Metro
politan Magazine.
r-'" -' . , ,-Tk.
STALE PHRASES ARE NEEDED
Writer Who Expresses a Powerful
Emotion Must ay What Has
Been Said Countlsss Times.
Our dramatic critic. In his review
of 8ardous pluy "Above Suspicion."
said of one of the characters that "his
lips were sealed." and remarked thst
such phrases necessarily accompany
such plys. They do. Indeed, and the
use of them makes one understand
the emotional quality of such plays
better than the most elaborate analy
sis of them.
There are hundreds of phrases like
this, containing metaphors both vlo
leut and stale, which are only uwd
seriously by writers who. snatch at
the easiest meats of expressing sn
emotion which they do not feel. For
If a writer ha a real emotion of his
own to express he will either use a
metaphor suggested to him by that
particular emotion or none at all This
Is a matter of Instinct, not of literary
art; for a fresh emotion will not be
satisfied with stale phrases but will
feel Itself misrepresented by them.
That Is one reason why. when power
fully moved, we are often so Inartl
culute. We feel that commonplaces
wilt not serve our turn, but we have
nothing to put In their place. The
writer's task Is to be neither Innrttru
late nor commonplace. He must not
be artless, nor must he give us bad
art for good. If he has a new Ides
to express he Is not tempted by stale
phrases. For they are associated with
emotions rather than with thoughts,
since emotions are not discoveries,
like new Ideas, and when expressed
In literature are valued, not fur their
novelty, but for the power with which
they are expressed. Thus, a writer
who expresses a new Idea says what
has never been said before, but a
writer who wishes to express a pow
erful emotion has to say what hns
probably been said a thousand times,
and by bad writers ns well as good
These bad writers have burdened our
memory with metaphors, some of
them lifeless from the first, some kill
ed by constant repetition, or In appro
prlate use; and their metaphors stay
In our minds because they have been
so often repeated. The good writer's
mind Is often Infested with them, so
that, before he can find the phrase he
wants, he must reject half a dozen
that he does not want This Is the
penalty that he has to pay for living
at a time wt en llternture Is o'.d and
language sophisticated. London
Times.
He Was a 'Piscopal.
A Northwestern missionary bishop
used to tell a story which was re
peated to us last week by Rev. W. W.
Washington of Cuyahoga Falls.
"I met an old farmer In North Da
kota." he relates, "and In the course
of conversation I asked him If he was
connected with any religious denom
ination. 'Yesslr,' he answered, 'I'm a
'Piscopal.'
"Of course this gratified me. and I
asked him what parish he belonged to.
" 'Hadn't heard about no parish,' he
said, with a puzzled expression.
"'Well, what diocese? I persisted.
"'You got me there, too."
"'Where were you conflrmedT
" 'Dunno what you mean.'
" 'Then how are you an Episcopal
lanr "'Oh,' be answered, brightening up
at once. 'I'll tell you. I went to a
church down In Bismarck last winter,
an' they called It 'Piscopal. And I
beard the people sayln' that they'd
"done things they hadn't orter done,
an' left undone things they'd otter
done." An' I says, "That's me, to a
t," an' since then, I've called myself
a 'Piscopal.'
"Now I understand," continued the
bishop, laughing, why the membership
of our church Is so large." Cleveland
Plain Dealer.
Character In Handwriting.
If you write a small, almost fem
inine band it may be a sign that you
are destined to be a great statesman,
according to David N. Carvalho, who
finds tbat small handwriting Is often
characteristic of great men. Grover
Cleveland's handwriting was of this
type and so was William McKtnley's.
"You find this type of writing In the
large handed men," said Mr. Carval
ho, "the men who are broad shoul
dered and well built, not perhaps tall."
If you are a woman and make little
pothooks at the end of your final
m's and e's you aro not likely to
spend much money on the latest nov
elties In dress, nor are you apt to
bother to do your hair up In puffs.
Indeed these little twists on the end
of letters Indicate that you would
make a sensible and economical wife.
Your defect would be that you might
embarrass your husband by ecren
trliity In dress through carelessness.
A slurring penmanship Indicates liter
ary ability.
Between Doctors.
"Doctor. I want you to look after
my office while I'm on vacation."
"Hut I've Just graduated, doctor.
Have had no experience."
"That's all right, my boy. My prao
tlce is strictly fashionable. Tell the
men to play golf and ship the women
patients off to Europe."
Business Instinct.
' "Do you think a woman can keep
secret?"
"No; she always tries to syndlcats
It" Judge.
Consideration.
"Tou wouldn't think of letting Mrs.
Fllmgllt bear the things you say b
hind her back."
"Certainly not," replied Mrs. Romer
Storey. "I'm too kind hearted."
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THE STANDARD OF QUALITY f; 7ay t
The workmanln'p which hat maJe W. L.
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First Aid
Shs's such a help to her clv(r
band. Kverytody knows that h iT.
genius, but few are next to the f
that little wife sida him in Mi J
activity. Ws got ok.
state of affairs st the surpri, fjl
we gave him the other night.
When the food had been dlicm,
he was called on for a spe
course. He arose from his et,,
his wife - he hemmed and hswt
then he suid :
" Ladies and gentlemen - I am t,,
iy unpri'imrcu, ui cousre, and tr
being as I said totally uniirp,B
you must er excures nis f k.
er unprepared. I - er-ah-I
nanny prepared lor mis rr"
then his wife interrupted: jf
"Whv. durlinir." slm .ia '
knew it perfectly this morning,
next sentence begins, 'Knowtnt
do.' Now can you go from Um
What helps they are, these sn'pif
wives. Cleveland Plain Dealer.
' c:
An Autocrat's Rslaiatlon,
Tou seem to rt a itni .
pteasurs out of business "Ym." i
piioo nr. iiisun max, alter I kin
fretted over a golf match there toQ I
Ing rests me up use getting bark s 1
my desk,. where I can have svsrruiaj
my own way.
HOT FEELING
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v
You need a short course
a of The Bitters. It is fine
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Mo persuaded to get a
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i.'j i - bl ' an s.f
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Honorable, Dignified, lucre
Writ fr t.tir(ur mni bfoMtta
im 10 1 1 l If lant.
Invalid mnA ttthmrt rmmUng ftkiHd
writ ft Dttrtk-uWrs.
409 Common wealth BUt- Portkei
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