2f Courtship °f
M iles Standish
i
With Illustrations by
H ow a rd Chandler Christy
( C o p y rig h t, T h e B o b b j - M e r r i ll Com pany)
The Lover's Errand
go the strong will prevailed, and Ai
des went on his errand,
loot of the street of the village, and
into the paths of the forest,
llito the tranquil woods, where blue
birds and robins were building
I Towns In the populous trees, with
hanging gardens of verdure,
¡Peaceful, aerial cities of joy and af
fection and freedom.
¡all around him was calm, but within
him commotion and conflict,
¡Lore contending with friendship, and
self with each generous Impulse.
|jo and fro In his breast his thoughts
were heaving and dashing,
|li In a foundering ship, with every
roll of the vessel,
¡Wishes the bitter sea, the merciless
surge of the ocean!
i up - g n
¡4"-'
'
¡Through the
Plymouth Woods John
Alden Went.
¡ “Must I relinquish It all," he cried
with a wild lamentation,
¡ “Must 1 relinquish It all, the Joy, the
hope, the Illusion?
| Was It for this I have loved, and
waited, and worshiped In silence?
| Was It for this I have followed the
flying feet and the shadow
| Over the wintry sea, to the desolate
shores of New England?
|Truly the heart Is deceitful, and out
of Its depths of corruption
| Hise. like an exhalation, the misty
phantoms of passion;
| Angels of light they seem, but are
only delusions of Satan.
|All Is clear to me now; I feel It, I see
It distinctly!
I This Is the hand of the Lord; It is
laid upon me In anger,
| f°r I have followed too much the
heart's desires and devices,
| W
orshiping Ashtoreth blindly, and
Impious idols of Baal.
| This la the cross I must bear; the sin
and the sw ift retribution."
So through the Plymouth woods John
Alden went on his errand;
| Crossing the brook at the ford, w h e re
It brawled o v e r p eb b le and sh a l
words of the Psalmist,
Full of the breath of the Lord, con
soling and comforting many.
Then, as he opened the door, he be
held the form of the maiden
Seated beside her wheel, and the
carded wool like a snow-drift
Piled at her knee, her white hands
feeding the ravenous spindle.
While with her foot on the treadle
she guided the wheel In its motion.
Open wide on her lap lay the well-
worn psalm-book of Ainsworth,
Printed In Amsterdam, the words and
music together,
Rough-hewn, angular notes, like stones
In the wall of a churchyard,
Darkened and overhung by the run
ning vine of the verses.
Such was the book from whose pages
she Bang the old Puritan anthem,
She, the Puritan girl. In the solitude
of the forest,
Making the humble house and the
modest apparel of homespun
Beautiful with her beauty, and rich
with the wealth of her being!
Over him rushed, like a wind that is
keen and cold and relentless,
Thoughts of what might have been,
and the weight and woe of his er
rand;
All the dreams that had faded, and
all the hopes that had vanished,
All his life henceforth a dreary and
tenantless mansion.
Haunted by vain regrets, and pallid,
sorrowful faces.
Still he said to himself, and almost
fiercely he said it:
“ Let not him that putteth his hand to
the plow look backward;
Though the plowshare cut through
the flowers of life to its fountains.
Though it pass o'er the graves of the
dead and the hearths of the living,
It is the will of the Lord; and His
mercy endureth for e v e r!”
So he entered the house: and the
hum of the wheel and the singing
Suddenly ceased; for Priscilla, aroused
by his step on the threshold,
Rose as he entered, and gave him her
hand, In signal of welcome,
Saying, "I knew It was you, when I
beard your step In the passage;
For I was thinking of you, as I sat
there singing and spinning."
Awkward and dumb with delight, that
a thought of him had been mingled
Thus in the sacred psalm, that came
from the heart of the maiden,
Silent before her he stood, and gave
her the flowers for an answer.
Finding no words for his thought. He
remembered that day In the
winter,
After the first great snow, when he
broke a path from the village,
Reeling and plunging along through
the drifts that encumbered the
doorway.
Stamping the snow from his feet as
he entered the house, and Priscilla
Laughed at his snowy locks, and gave
him a seat by the fireside.
Grateful and pleased to know he had
thought of her in the snow-storm.
Had he but spoken then, perhaps not
In vain had he spoken;
Now It was all too late; the golden mo
ment had vanished!
So he stood there abashed, and gave
her the flowers for an answer.
OLD MAN SHOOTS TWO
P A R A L Y Z E D BY
F E U D IS T S ,
TO O K D O UBLE TO LL.
Thereupon answered the youth: "In
deed I do not condemn you;
Stouter hearts than a woman's have
quailed in this terrible winter.
Yours Is tender and trusting, a n f
needs a stronger to lean on;
So I have come to you now, with an
an offer and proffer of marriage
Made by a good man and true, Miles
Standish, the Captain of Ply
mouth!"
Thus he delivered his message, the
dexterous writer of letters—
Did not embellish the theme, nor ar
ray It in beautiful phrases.
But came straight to the point, and
blurted it out like a schoolboy;
Even the Captain himself could hard
ly have said It more bluntly.
Mute with amazement and sorrow,
Priscilla, the Puritan maiden,
Ixx>ked into Alden'B face, her eyes
dilated with wonder,
Feeling bis words like a blow, that
stunned her and rendered her
speechless;
T ill at length she exclaimed, inter
rupting the ominous silence:
" If the great Captain of Plymouth is
so very eager to wed me.
Why does he not come himself, and
take the trouble to woo me?
If I am not worth the wooing, I surely
am not worth the winning!”
Then John Alden began explaining
and smoothing the matter.
Making It worse as he went, by say
ing the Captain was busy—
Had no time for such things;— such
things! the words grating harshly
Fell on the ear of Priscilla; and swift
as a flash she made answer:
"Has he no time for such things, as
you call it, before he is married,
p
■ r
\ ,v ,a g ,
», .-¿ve ;
And Gave Him a Seat by the Fireside.
Spoke of hie courage and skill, and ol
all his battles In Flanders,
How with the people of God he had
chosen to suffer affliction,
How, In return for his zeal, they had
made him Captain of Plymouth;
He was a gentleman born, could trace
his pedigree plainly
Back to Hugh Standish of Duxbury
Hall, In Lancashire, England,
Who was the son of Ralph, and the
the grandson of Thurston de
Standish;
Heir unto vast estates, of which be
was basely defrauded,
Still bore the family arms, and bad
for his crest a cock argent
Combed and wattled gules, and all the
rest of the blazon.
He was a man of honor, of noble and
generous nature;
Though be was rough, he was kindly;
she knew how during the winter
He had attended the sick, with a hand
as gentle as woman's;
Somewhat hasty and hot, he, could not
deny it, and headstrong.
Stern as a soldier might be, but
hearty, and placable always.
Not to be laughed at and scorned, be
cause he was little of stature;
For he was great of heart, magnani
mous, courtly, courageous;
Any woman In Plymouth, nay, any
woman in England,
Might be happy and proud to be called
the wife of Miles Standish!
But as he warmed and glowed, In
his simple and eloquent language.
Quite forgetful of self, and full of the
praise of hts rival,
Archly the maiden smiled, and, with
eyes overrunning with laughter.
Said in a tremulous voice, "W hy don’t
you speak for yourself, John?"
|Gat*itring gtln ag
went the May-
flowers blooming around him,
| fragrant, fillin g th e a ir w ith a strange
and w o n d e rfu l s w e etn e s s,
Louisville, Ky.—The killing by Leek
Whitt of his nephew and son-in-law.
Buddy Whitt and James Harper, and
the subsequent shooting of Leek W hitt
by friends of the dead men at Salyers-
ville. In the mountains, bids fair to be
come a classic In feud history.
Two or three years ago Leek W hitt
was shot by one of the men and his
right arm paralysed by the bullet.
Leek Whitt went to Salyersville from
his farmhouse and saw his two ene
mies In front of the courthouse there.
In the years since his right arm waa
paralyzed Whitt, who was about seven
ty years old, had learned to use hla
pistol with his left hand. He walked
quietly up to them and, drawing his
revolver with his left hand, shot Har
per through the throat and tired five
bullets Into his nephew.
Before the smoke had blown away
from the empty revolver of Leek
Whitt pistols began to bark at him
from every side. The old man stood
still and straight In the middle of the
street until he fell dead with hi#
empty revolver still In his hand.
Not a groan or a moan had escaped
him, although It was found that seven
bullets had struck him In the breast
and were so aimed that they made al
most a straight line of holes across
his cheat. Several other bullets struck
him, and It Is believed that at least
twenty bullets were fired at him.
Tills was one of the most dramatic
affrays that has ever occurred In the
mountain country. It recalls the case
of “ Uncle Curt” Jett, about twenty
years ngo, the story of which was told
by Judge James Hargis while the lat
ter was on trial at Beattyvllle for
complicity In the killing of James B.
Marcum.
"Uncle Curt” had Incurred the en
mity of various residents In that sec
tion, having killed several men. and
was therefore wary when In the ene
my’s territory. But one day, when he
was less careful than usual, he rode
along the Kentucky river near Jack-
son. At the ford he neglected to look
about before his horse stepped Into
the water. An enemy was concealed
behind a log, and as "Uncle Curt's”
horse entered a bullet struck him in
the back
"Uncle Curt," seriously hurt, man
aged to get hts own revolver Into play,
but could not reach the concealed
marksman. The horse kept going
toward the opposite bank, the enemy
continued to fire. "Uncle Curt" con
tinued to shoot back, but with no ap
parent
effect.
Finally, when ha
reached a half-submerged stump near
the Jackson side, and had been struck
by six bullets, he slipped off his
horse behind the stump There, though
weak from loss of blood, he waited
for the enemy to show himself, and
when he did Curt shot him dead.
SLAYS LION WITH A KNIFE
Farmer Kills Beast Th a t Devoured
Son but Loses Right A rm
IrT the Fight.
Brownsville, Tex.— Maddened at the
sight of a buge mountain lion stand
ing over the dead body of hts three-
year-old son. Juan Morales, a farmer
living seven miles from here, killed
the beast with a knife thrust In the
heart after a 15-minute struggle. In
which he sustained Injuries which
will cost him the loss of hts right arm
at the shoulder.
After killing the
lion he walked to the city to be
treated by a physician.
Morales had left home to visit a
neighbor. When he returned he heard
the screams of his children and then
caught a glimpse of a huge mountain
lion, weighing probably 400 pounds,
standing over the almost beadless
body of his son
The beast sprang
at Morales and the desperate fight be
gan.
(TO B E C O N T IN U E D .)
“CEMETERY CURE” EFFECTIVE
First Calculating Machine.
Drunks of Illinois Tow n Are Now
Crowded Into Straight and Nar
row Paths.
The first calculating machine was
Invented and constructed by Blaise
Pascal, a Frenchman. In 1642. In which
year he was but nineteen years of
age. H was made by him with the
aid of one workman and was present
ed to the chancellor of France. Dur
ing the revolution It was found In a
Junk shop at Bordeaux and at present
is the property of M. Bougouin of that
city. All of the four simple mathe
matical operations can be made with
1L
An Indication.
"Is Bllgglns the superior Influence
In bis own bouse?" "I'm sfrati not
He's one of those men who understand
exactly what their wives are talking
about when they describe what other
-W h y Don't V » “ *«>eak for Yourself, John."
HE
Leek W hitt, a Daring Fighter, Though
Past Seventy Years of Age, Adds
Another to Kentucky's Feud
Tragedies.
Then they sat down and talked of
the birds and the beautiful spring
time.
Talked of their friends at home, and
the Mayflower that sailed on the
morrow.
“ I have been thinking all day," said
gently the Puritan maiden,
"Dreaming all night, and thinking all
day, of the hedge-rows of Eng
land,—
They are In blossom now, and the
country Is all like a garden;
Thinking of lanes and fields, and the
song of the lark and the linnet.
Seeing the village street, sind familiar
faces of neighbors
Still John Alden went on, unheeding
Going about as of old. and stopping
the words of Priscilla,
to gossip together,
Urging the suit of his friend, explain
And, at the end of the street, the vil
ing, persuading, expanding;
lage church, with the Ivy
Climbing the old gray tower, and the
r
quiet graves In the churchyard.
I Ä
Kind are the people I live with, and
dear to me my religion;
Still m y heart Is so sad, that I wish
myself baefc In Old England.
M
S
You will say It Is wrong, but I can not
help it: I almost
Wish myself back in Old England, 1
feel so lonely and wretched."
low,
| Children lo st In th e w o o d s and cov-
*red w ith leaves In th e ir slu m b er.
I rnritan flowers,” he said, “and the
type of Puritan maidens.
I ™°fl**t and simple and sweet, the
.
Tery type of Priscilla!
| ®° I will take them to her; to Priscilla
the May flower of Plymouth,
I Atoflest and simple and sweet, as a
.
Parting gift will I take them;
| “raathlng their silent farewells, as
.
fade and wither and perish, i
| ®00n to be thrown away, as Is the j
.
heart of the Kl^er ”
*o through the Plymouth wooda^John
I
Alden went on his errand;
I Came to an open space, and saw the
,
fllah ef the ocean,
| ••Bless, somber and cold with the !
comfortless breath of the east
wind;
the new-built house, and people
at work In a meadow;
as he drew near the door, the j
| ^ musical voice of Priscilla
¡■Being the hundredth Psalm, the
. . Brand old Puritan anthem,
■aslc that Luther sang to the sacred |
Would he be likely to find It. or make
it, after the wedding?
That Is the way with you men; you
don't understand us, you can not.
When you have made up your minds,
after thinking of this one and
that one.
Choosing, selecting, rejecting, com
paring one with another,
Then you make known your desire,
with abrupt and sudden avowal,
And are offended and hurt, and Indig
nant perhaps, that a woman
Does not respond at once to a love
that she never suspected,
Does not attain at a bound the helgbt
to which you have been climbing.
This Is not right nor Just: for surely
a woman's affection
Is not a thing to be asked for, and
had for only the asking.
When one Is truly In love, one not
only says it, but shows i t
Had he but waited a while, had he
only showed that he loved me.
Even this Captain of yours— who
knows?— at last might have won
me,
Old and rough as he Is; but now it
never can happen."
Springfield. 111.— Illinois has a brand-
new and original plan to cure
the
liquor habit. It was devised by citi
zens of New Douglas. It Is called tbe
cemetery cure, but that doea not mean
for the patients the usual trimmings
of drapery and florists' emblems, nor
Is the trip to the graveyard accom
panied by a string of cabs at four dol
lars per.
The situation handled otherwise.
In tbe early evening the patients are
carted to the city cemetery and while
the late moon looks down <® the
strange task they are bouod with ropes
to uptight monumeota. while others
are laid In graves wbteh bsvs sunk la
through TfeAii el tA o fw y itreso.