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About Oregon City courier. (Oregon City, Or.) 1896-1898 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 14, 1896)
Down the meadow, down the meadow, 8ee her where alio goes! Surely never lass in Yeddo Trlpiwd It upon fleeter toes! Harkl how jolly !-"Mollle, Mollio," Comes the eall from fur away; And the answer girlish folly "Mollie's making liny." Just the picture for a sonnet To be writ upon Roguish fuee within n bonnet, Hidden from the Anient sun. Not a shred of melancholy In the whole sweet summer day; Skies a blur of blue, and Motile Mollic making hay ! Dy my fuitli, ere loiig a farmer Every swuln will be. With so lovable a chnnner, Going In for husbandry. Ere another lover trample Where my eager heart would iwny, (Mollie's set mean example!) I'll lie making hay. -Detroit Free Press. AN OLD STORY. "It Is of no use!" sold Mary desperate ly. "I can't think of a single thing to nay." She sat and frowned gloomily, biting the end of her penholder. Now and then she ran her hand distractedly through her hair. This was a trick of bora when thinking hard, and, aa a rule the result was moro startling than plowing. "It la of no use! she said again, but this time with a different Inflection. mustn't alt here aud give way to lazl ness like thi. If I don't write a tale we can't pay the grocer's bill! I must and will begin, only what on earth am I tanay?" Mary's brain was fertile enough, aud tier busy fancy generally delighted In spinning love stories and the like. Iu the early days of her scribbling she had been greatly laughed at by her mother and sisters, but when welcome little checks began to come In return for bulky envelopes aent through the post the tone of the family altered and Mary had for some time been regarded aa a person of lniKrtance. Perhaps they overrated her powers, for they had come to the conclusion that Mary could do almont anything. Mary's head was looked upon aa a bank upon which au unlimited amount of modest demands could be drawn, and the girl now and then felt a trifle over whelmed us she realized what was ex ected of her. "Oh, Mary , must write a tale!" her mother would nay easily, when au ad ditional expense was suggested. Ho the fancy of the moment would be Indulged In, aud Mary would shut herself up In the little room she called her own, whence In due time she would emerge tired but triumphant. On this particular morning, however. she racked her brains lu vain. .She tried tier hardest to think of some slender framework upon which to hung the usual mild love-making, but the more bIio tried to woo "the muse," the more oltstlnntely did the said muse refuse to respond to her advunces. "I feel exnetly as If a wet sponge had been passed over my brulu," she thought, ltspalrlngly. "There doesn't accm a single Idea left." Just then a gentle rap eume at the door. "Come in," snid Mary, Impatiently. 8he never liked to be Interrupted when she was trying to work, aud Just now ohe felt more than usually cross. Her face relaxed a little, however, when she saw her visitor. "You, John! I thought It was Jenny. I wondered whatever ahe wanted now." "Poor Jenny," said the newcomer, laughing. "Poor Mary, I think," rejoined Mary, dolefully. "Why, whatever Is the matter?" ask ed John Redmond, taking a sent, and evidently preparing to make himself ns comfortable as circumstances per mitted. He looked very strong and ca pable as he smiled down upon Mar', and the girl was conscious of a distinct feeling of relief, though she hardly knew Its source. "Well," said Mary. "I feel worried and bothered. You know, John, how much all our folks have got In the way of looking to me for help In mon ey matters?" "Yes, I know," replied John, wltli a rather curious Inflection. "I like to do It," said Mary quickly. "It makes me very glad and huppy to do It. I should not say a word about It to anybody but you, but you already know tli ewe details. You are such an In timate friend of the family, aren't you?" "A very Intimate friend of the fam ily," echoed the young man gravely. "And mother has often told you how ttaey It was for me to earn a few pounds, hasn't ahe?" "Very often," answered the young man again, with the same gravity. "Well, John," aald Mary, lifting a pair f very earnest eye to hi, her aeceuts full of sorrow and dismay, "I am some time afraid I can't keep on doing It." "What makes you think so?" asked John gently. "I can't thluk of anything," said Mary, the tears brimming up Into bar eyes, "I have sat here this morning for nearly an hour, and not a single Idea hai come to ine. And I didn't dare to tell mother aud the girls my last story was rejected. It waa such a blow, for I bad been counting on the money to buy Jenny's summer dress. Khe was rather cross when I told ber she must wait a while longer." "My dear little soul," ald the young man, "you are overworked. That la tne simple, explanation of the whole mat' ter." The kindness of bla tone seemed to altogether break down Mary's compos ure, for, after a momentary struggle for calmness, she dropped her heud Into ber hands and cried heartily. John Redmond's face presented a eu rlous study, so muny were the emotions that passed rapidly over It. He made an Involuntary movement toward the little weeping figure, but the next niO' meat checked himself and waited quietly until Mary herself spoke. "I don't know whatever you will think of me," she snid rather shame. family, as she wiped her eyes. "I don't know what made me do It. Hut I am so much obliged to you for letting me have It out.' I am letter now." "To be sure you do," aald John, with a friendly aud rather tender laugh. "I have always understood that a 'good cry' was a great luxury to young la dies." "For pity's sake don't call me 'young lady," cried Mary, with an as. sumption of her usually energetic man lier. "I do halo that phrase." "Just na you please," returned John, easily. "What shall 1 call you? Novel 1st? Journalist?" ".Neither one nor the other," said Mary, flushing a little, a shade of her late despondency again falling upon her. "I am nothing In the world but a writer of penny love stories, aud los lug even the small amount of capabil ity required for that." "That la nonsense," exclaimed John, now speaking earnestly. "As I said before, you are overworked. You have been doing too much. Your brain needs rest, and It ought to have one, Mary. "Well, It can't, Just at preseut," said Mary, shaking her head very decided ly. "There Is Jenny's new dress and the grocer's bill. I shall know no peace until those two things are off my mind." John was silent for a minute, but he looked troubled. "If I could Just get an Idea," said Mary, more hopefully, "I think I could work It out. I seem to have used up everything! I have written about lost heirs and lost wills about the heiress who pretended to be poor nnd the ad veuturess who pretended to be rich. I have told about the man who express ed the utmost detestation of 'the new woman' aud ended by falling madly In love with one. I have related the his tory of the girl who determined to have a 'career' and finally gave up all for love. These things are all woru out, John! They have become so feeble that I am ashamed to press the poor things Into further service." John smiled. "They are far from dying, Mary They are full of vitality yet." "Vell, somebody else may have theni?' snid Mary, returning the smile. "At least, for a while. I may be glad to fall back on them some day. but Just now ! should like something fresh. All sorts of queer things are constant ly happening lu real life If I could only get to hear them. John, haven't you an Idea of any kind? Or some little thing that has come within your own experience? Anything that holds a tiny spice of romance, you know." John looked at her a moment and seemed Inclined to speak. Then his mind apparently altered and he shook his heud. Oh!" cried Mary disappointedly. 'that Is too bail. You look exactly us If you hud au Idea." Well," said John slowly, "u faint glimmering did seem to come to me, but I urn afraid you will think It silly." 'Do tell me!" exclaimed Mary. "I shall he so grateful." And I don't know that It Is partic ularly new," went on John In the same doubtful way. Well, never mind," said Mary, In a businesslike way. "A great deal de pends on the treatment of a subject. Sometimes n very hackneyed theme an be made to sound quite fresh. I have noticed It In several Instil ticca. io on, John." She fixed ber eyes on him expeetant- y, and a smile dawned In the young woman's eyes as he looked at her. "Is It humorous?" asked Mary inno- ently, as she saw the smile. "I don't know," answered John, re lapsing Into gravity. "That entirely depends upon how they regard It. hlngs appeal so differently to differ ent minds, don't they?" They do," rejoined Mary promptly. Sometimes I have written things which I thought were funny, but other people entirely failed to see the Joke. and on the other hand I have been laughed at for sentences which were penned with perfect seriousness. Hut to proceed with the subject In hand. I' wish you would begin, John, for the line Is getting on, aud I shall be mis erable unless I succeed lu making a good start this morning." There Is a lot lu making a good tart, Isn't there?" asked John, with vldent anxiety. oil! a great deal." said Mary. "It Is often the most difficult thing possible to start. Once fairly begun the work Is comparatively easy, because oue thing seems to lead to another." I seer replied John, reflectively. Then a long silence fell between them. Do go on!" said Mary, Impatiently, t last. Well, the fact Is. Mary. 1" with considerable emphasis on the pronoun "find a difficulty In starting. I thluk could go on If Uie subject were ouly begun." Let nie help you out," said Mary, with an air of resignation. "There Is a girl la It, I suppose." "Oh, yes!" returned John, very de cidedly. "There Is a girl In It; and aa uncommonly uleo girl, too." "Good gracious!" said Mary. "It Is all easy enough. ' Describe me ber ap pearance, character and surroundings. Tell me what she did, and bow she did It. Then explain where the man comes lu for there Is a man In It, I suppose?" "Ob, yes!" said John, as decidedly as before. "There Is a man In It." "Well, what about him?" asked Mary. "Dear me, John! I might as well In vent a thing myself, and have done with It, If you cun't tell me straight off." "I'll tell you!" said John, with the air of a man determined to make the plunge. "Only Mary promise me one thing. Don't laugh at my story." "Can't I laugh If It Is funny?" re joined Mary. "It Isn't," said John. "Well, not ex actly. Kr In fact, I dou't know how It will strike you. I meant, don't laugh at my clumsy way of telling It." "Of course not," replied Mary, kind ly. "And I'm sure I'm very much ob liged to you, John, for taking all this trouble." "Well," began John, "this glrl-tho girl I am thinking of, you know lived at home with her mother aud sisters. The father had died some years be fore, leaving Just enough money to supply their bare wants, but no more." 1 quite understand," said Mary lu a tone which had a good deal of "fellow feeling" In It. "So, of course," went on John, "life was more or less of a struggle with them. But, happily, one of the girls this special girl I began to talk about developed quite a talent for for " "For what?" said Mary rather sharp ly. For painting," returned John quick- Iv. "She used to paint quite lovely little things and sell them to the shops.' Yes," said Mary, "but when does the romance come In, John?" I am coming to that," replied John. "Give me time, Mary." l)h, of course," said Mary, amiably. So after a pause John went on agalu. "Years before, when these girls were quite little, their father bad shown a great kindness to an almost friendless boy." Mary started and a faint color crept Into her cheeks; but John took no heed and his voice became firmer aud clear- "To the action of that good man the boy owed whatever success came to him In after life. He never forgot this and he often wondered bow be could best repay the debt be owed." John paused, but Mary did not speak. "And as the time went on be found the debt Increased rather than dimin ished. For though his first benefactor bad passed away, be bad left kindly hearts behind him. And as the boy grew Into manhood-he prized more and more the welcome he ever received from those good women and felt that In the whole world there was no spot so dear to him as the one they called home." Again John paused, but Mary made no effort to break the silence. He loved them all," said John, "but" here a new tenderness crept Into his voice "be learned at last that for one of them he had the' love which a man only gives to one woman In the world. She was not, I think, quite understood by her mother aud sisters, much as they cared for her. She had a talent which she was glad to turn to useful account, but the others hardly realized that the task which was gen erally a pleasure might at times be come very hard and wenrlsome. They thought It was play for her to sit down and paint. So sometimes her heart failed her a little." Mary's face was very white now, but the color rushed suddenly back Into It as John gcutly took her hand Into his own, This young man loved her, Mary- loved her more dearly that I can quite tell you. Hut he waited a long time before he dared to speak to her. He knew how much depended upon her In the home, aud he felt be hud no right to take her away utitil his position would enable him to offer comfort to her and to those dear to her. It often seemed a weary while, and his heart often ached. Hut the time came nt last. The time when he felt free to sficak." I He paused, and for a few minutes there was between them a deep silence. Then his hnnd clasped hers more fer vently, and he said "Mary!" As If Irresistibly compelled, she look ed into his eyes. And lu that moment a full knowledge of what she had never before even guessed swept over her. She knew the sweetest of all earthly things that she loved, and was be loved. 'You were quite right, dearest," said John a while later. "The ditllculty lies In making a start. Everything conies quite easily afterward." The story is very hackneyed," whis pered Mary. "But. oh. John!" with a half-mischievous, wholly tender look isn't It wonderful how anything so old can be so Interesting?" London So ciety. Me Saw It. To appreciate thoroughly what It means to play to an empty house (says the New York Evening Sun) one must travel to Brooklyn to attend a Wednes day matinee. At such a performance of "Johu-a-Dreaius," a school girl sat In an orchestra chair and there was a young man In the front row of the bal cony. Tbe scene Is the deck of a yacht, and as Henry Miller emerged from the cabin aud gazed Into the empty gulf be fore him. be spoke his first line: "The sea la purple; have you. too, noticed It?" An Instant later a voice came from the balcony: "Well. I don't know about the lady down-stairs, but I can see It all right." IN A SHADY NOOK. I AN ARSENAL IN THE CLOUDS. A War Airship Which In He In a: Con traded for Cuban Service. Cuba la going to fight the Spaniards from the clouds. In a secluded grove In Florida a French engineer now has under construction an airship which Is to be placed In the Cuban service. It will carry 125 men, 1,000 rifles, a half million rounds of rifle ammunition and dynamite shells. The airship Is one of the most remarkable thtugs of its klud ever conceived by an aeronaut. Its chief feature, which excites the great est wonder, Is Its extreme lightness con sidering Its tremendous strength. The airship consists of a boat-shaped car that does not swing, but Is held solidly, though pendant, from a cluster of five balloons. These balloons are held steadily In place by five aluminum belts, which go around the girths of the balloons and are connected at the points of con tact by easy working ball-bearing joints, so that there can be no strain, and each belt can give gently one way or the other, as the balloon It holds might sway, without getting away from Its mate. In this way tbe bal loons are always manageable. Besides the system of network which surrounds the balloons and which holds them attached to the car there are aluminum bruces securing the belts or girths ' to the car below. These braces are also the stays for the sails forward and at the sides for steering purposes. The principle upon which this wonderful airship Is steered Is the same which governs the sailing of a yacht. A series of uprights over the car and Just under the lower valves of tbe balloons sustains a shaft, which Is revolved by electricity, and turns an Immense fan, or screw at the rear of the ship, which acts aa an air rudder as well as a propeller. Every piece of metal In the entire construction of this greyhound of the air Is of aluminum. 'flip'" ore nine windows on each aide; anmethlnff.more than ten feet anart. A AIBSIHP ' series of loug, uarrow openings, closed I with aluminum bars, run around the upper guard which Incloses the upper deck of the boat. This marvelous air coach Is provid ed with comfortable accommodations for 125 men. There Is an electrical en- I glne room, an electrical Kitchen, ami i bedrooms, smoking-room and an ohser ' vatory. The vessel is lighted, heated !and worked by electricity. Water is ' taken from tbe clouds, and not a spark ! of Ore Is used In working this mon I strous air ship. The balloon valves i are operated by a system of electric ' buttons, aud there Is no confusion of J ropes or lines. The observatory Is pro ; vlded with powerful glasses, and while ! the operator can ride far above the i earth, out of reach of the longest range i guns known to military science, he can ! bring the enemy's camp close to his ! range of vision and can throw dyna ! mite bombs down upon his adversaries ! with remarkable precision. Feminine Fancies in Glove. ! For walking, traveling and general 1 outing wear, four hook or button gloves are correct in glace or pique kid. tbe latter being heavier than tbe usual dressed kid. These are In tan. brown and gray shades. Chamois gloves in white are very stylish for wear with cotton or pique costumes, and as they wash and clean easily are not expen sive. Black gloves are well favored In Purls with light toilettes trimmed In black, but here they are chiefly notic ed with mourning gowns, or with even lug gowns of black and some brilliant contrast. White and flcelle, very pale straw, suede are the fashionable even ing colors for full dress, with pearl gray, lavender and pale tan following. White glace and suede gloves In .four hooks or buttous, plain or stitched on the back with black, are worn for vis iting, concerts, driving, etc. There Is much favor shown to Btieli gloves In white glace or dressed kid with book fastenings. After white the tnn and brown shades are favored. Ladles' Home Journal. ART AMONG THE ESKIMOS. Clever Carvers in Ivory and Some Who Can Sketch. We did much entertaining, as we were continually visited by different members of the tribe of two hundred or more. They were content to sit and share the warmth and shelter of our house, and gaze on the curious things It contained. They would turn tho pages of a magazine by the hour, and, holding the book upside down, ask questions about the pictures. What particularly pleased them was anything In the shape of a gun, kuife, or ammuni tion. Of eating they never tired. The nniount of food they consumed was astonishing, and they particularly rev eled lu our coffee, biscuit, and pemnil cnn. This love was manifested by a little ditty that they sang quite often: "Uh-bis-e-ken, Uh-pem-e-kem." The women are very clever with the needle, and as most of us had adopted the Innult boe, of sealskin, which re quired frequent mending, they were always In demand. In mechanical In genuity they, are remarkable. Both miMi anil women are carvers iu Ivory, aud the tiny figures hum.'i.i as well as animal that they fashion In this ma terial, although somewhat crude, show no mean ability. This skill is also to be remarked iu regard to the use of the pencil. Oue of them, As-sey-e-yeh. drew from memory a steamer iu per spective, with the reflections in the water, and that. too. In a suggestive and artistic way. Century. London's Oldest Iteataurant. Probably the oldest restaurant In London Is Crosby Hall, in Bishopgate street, in the city. This was built more than ."iki years ago. was once the palace of Uichard III., and afterward the resi dence of Sir Thomas More. It was in this building that Shakspeare laid the cene of Kieliard's plots for the murder of the young princes. Something whizzed through the air at 1 a distance of about ten feft from the i head of William tlie Conqueror. ! "Wasn't that an arrow?" asked the : monarch, "it went rather too wide for I a narrow." said the court ester; and ; from that moment bis office begaD to ', lose in importance aud respectability. I Indianapolis Journal. " j What has become of the old-fashioned ! man who parted his hair in tbe back? I . i usii --r. l i " - m . i -r".v u wa inui- i m n a. I'll i TO DO BATTLE FOB CUBA. j WHAT WE OWE TO HOLLAND. Many Dutch People Intermarried with the Purltane. The Holland tongue Is a dialect of the Teutonic, or primitive Herman, but took a distinct form at the closo of the eleventh century. It la a fusion of dia lects, a mixed language, like our own English, lu sound It Is neither soft nor musical, yet dignified, sonorous and em phatic, almost every jKilysyllablc wonl belug descriptive of the object It desig nates. To the Dutch Coster Is conceded tho glory of having discovered the art of printing "the art preservative of all arts" else wo might have been writing on parchment to-day. Who knows? The correct version of the Scripture owes Its origin to the synod of Dord recht In 1H18. The oldest literary com positions of the Dutch are very similar to the Platt-Deiitsch of the Germans, which is to Germany, what Provencal Is to France. The great Erasmus waa the literary king of Christendom and the first to teach the classic (.reek to the English. In fact, Holland Is a country noted for first things. When the Pilgrim sought refuge in Holland they lived wlfhln sight of the greatest university of Europe. The light of Lcyden's leuru lug shone brightly all over Europe In the eighteenth century. That part of England from which the settlers of New England came swarmed with Dutch Immigrants, weavers and brick makers, and it became the very seed plot of Congregationalism and Noncon formity, an outgrowth of Dutch Cal vinism. As many went to England from the Dutch province of Frleslaud, Friesish was grafted ou to the Anglo Saxon and became oue of the forbears of our own language. The Dutch laid the foundatlou for manufacturing and commercial supremacy in Great Brit ain. Although devoted to Industrial pur suits, they were the Inventors of oil palutlng. "The first smile of the repub lic was art." It seems a little out of place to say they Invented oil painting; the Invention was more of au Inspira tion, when we view the masterpieces of Kembraudt, whose pictures are a con flict between light and Bbadow of whom It bad been said that, when con ceiving them, he had visions of rays and shadows which spoke to his soul before he committed them to canvas. When the Pilgrims went to Holland some of them took to themselves Dutch wives and brought them to America, so that the Mayflower strain Isn't purely English. The Puritans, who came Into New England ten years later, have con ferred upon posterity u purer English ancestry, providing the Immigrants were not from the Dutch settled por tions of England. Nearly all the mili tary leaders of our colonists were train ed in the Dutch armies. The founders of Connecticut, politically educated in Holland, took as a model In writing Connecticut's constitution tue Dutch republic Chicago Tribune. BREEDS WORMS FOR SALE. Maine Farmer Raines and Sells Wornia for Baltlntc Purpose. Joslah Crewdye, a farmer living nearly three miles from this place, en joys the reputation of belug the only angleworm raiser In Maine. He oc cupies an old farm and uses a sort of primitive hothouse for his worm col ony. The box In which he kept them covered the floor of the old forcing house aud was built four feet deep and filled with soil to within eighteen Inches of the top. During last spring and summer Crewdye and his boys gathered the festive "night walkers" lu large quan tities and whenever any plowing was done the boys walked behind with pails and gathered up tbe worms, which were forthwith transferred to the In cubator. Crewdye estimates that ho put thiee barrels of "walkers" Into this Incubator during the summer. From Dec. 1 to Jau. 1. 1SW, Crewdye sold thirty-eight quarts of worms at $1 a quart. Fishermen left orders at Charles Blank's grocery lu the village for Crewdye, and lie brought lu the worms to fill all demands. When the cold snap came on In February and the thermometer ran down to 28 degrees below zero the worms were all right and kept ou multiplying and thriving. Tlie day after Christmas Crewdye'a son Karl was In the Incubator watching his father remove the manure from the box, Intending to replace It with fresh. This work was called "feeding tho crawlers." Karl played on his har monica, making quite a noise, and was surprised, as was bis father, to observe the worms working up out of the ground, their heads sticking out about two inches, while they swayed their heads to aud fro as if tickled to death to hear the music. Wheu the boy ceased playing the worms slipped back into their warm beds. This story was told aud was doubted until a re porter saw the story verified. The lad with his mouth organ seemed to have the same effect upon the "night walk ers" as the wind Instruments used by Hindoo snake charmers have upon the serpents that roam undisturbed iu the Orient. Lewiston Journal. So Safe. Buyer (confidentially! Say. boy. are you sure this horse wou-t scare at a locomotive? Stable Boy Scare? Not much! Why. sir. three different men have been killed because that there borse balked In the middle of the track jest to en Joy seein" the bullgine comin'. New York World. Agreed. Mrs. Cutter The more I think of it, Mr. Cutter, the more I am convinced that when I married you I married a fooL Mr. Cutter Accepting your conclu sion as incontrovertible, madam. It en forces the verdict that we are well mated. Boston Courier.