The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, February 14, 1902, Image 4

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    miJ wi till L it
CHAPTER VIII. !
July reigns, rice June, dethroned, but
till the roues hold full sway.
Seaton' Dysart has come and gone
many a .time to and from Grpyeourt, and
by decrees a little of the constraint that
bad characterized hi early visit bas
worn away. He has even so far ad
vanced as to be almost on friendly terms
with Urlselila.
But between him and Vera that first
dark veil of distrust still hangs heavily
dint rust that, on Vera's side, has taken
a blacker hue and merged itself into dis
like. Beaton Dysart's arrivals being only
looked for by the girls at about seven
o'clock In the evening just an hour or so
before dinner gave them plenty of time
to prepare for his coming. Any day on
which he was expected, Mrs. Grnnch
brought a formal message to Vera from
her uncle to that effect. Never yet had
their ccusin come without the announce
ment being made; and so thoroughly un
derstood was it that he would not put
In an unexpected appearance, that when,
after a rather longer absence than usual,
an absence extending over all last week
and part of this, he turns np at half-past
two in the afternoon, his coming causes
distinct embarrassment in several quar
ters. "Wlint can have brought him at this
hour? London must be reduced to
ashes," hazards Griselda, her tone now
as genial as usual. For one Instant a
sickening fear that it might be Mr. Pey
ton's knock had made her blood run cold.
There bad been a short but sharp en
counter between him and her the day be
fore yesterday, and a wild fear that he
had come up to have it out with her uow,
and here, bad taken possession of her.
At such a moment the advent of Seaton
is hailed by her, at least, with rapture.
"Why, what happy wind drove you
down at this hour?" cries she. with the
friendliest air, beaming on him as he
comes into the room.
"It is good of you to call It happy,"
says he, casting a really grateful look at
her as be shakes hands silently with
Vera. "In time for luncheon, too, I see,
though," with a rather surprised glance
at the table, "you don't seem In a very
hospitable mood.' Nothing to spare, eh 7"
"We didn't know you were coming, you
see," says Griselda, mildly. "And It isn't
lunch you see, or rather you' don't see,
before you; it Is dinner."
"What?" says Seaton, flushing a dark
red. He has got up from his seat and is
regarding her almost sternly.
"Is It true?" asked Seaton, turning to
Vera, It Is a rather rude question, but
there Is so much shame and anxiety in
his tone that Griselda forgives him.
"Why should It not be true?" says
Vera, coldly. "As a rule, we dine early."
"She means that we always dine early
. except when we know you are coming,"
supplements Griselda, even more mildly
than before.
"And this" with a hurried glance at
the scanty meal,, "do you mean to tell me
that that this Is your dinner "every
day?"
"Literally," says Grlscldn, cheerfully.
."This Is the chop that changetb not. It
Is not all that one could desire, of course,
but if sometimes it might be altered
for " '
"Griselda!" Interrupts Vera, rising to
her feet.
"Why should I not speak?" asks Orl-
seiua. in a nieemy mjurea tone, i was
merely going to add that a fowl occa
sionally would be a good deal of moral
use to us. I have always heard that to
keep the temper in a healthy state,
change of food Is necessary."
"I feci as If I ought to apologize to
you for all this," says Dysart, with a
heavy sigh, addressing era exclusively,
"and as if, too, no apology could be ac
cepted. But I shall see that It does not
occur again."
"I beg you will do nothing," says Vera,
quickly. "Nothing. I will not have my
uncle spoken to on this subject. Griselda
Is only in jest; she speaks like a foolish
child. I," folding her hands tightly to
gether. "I forbid you to say anythiug
about it."
"1 regret that I must disobey you,"
says Seaton, courteously, but with deter
minatlou. "My father's bouse Is In part
mine, and I will suffer no guest to endure
discomfort in it."
"There is no discomfort now. There
will be it you try to alter matters in our
favor."
"You mean that you will accept noth
ing at my hands; is that it?" exclaims he,
passion that will not be repressed in bis
tone; the coldness seems broken np, there
Is fire In his eyes and a distinct anger.
"You hare had that 'time' you spoke of;
has it fulfilled it missions has it taught
you to detest me? . No!" detaining her
deliberately as she seeks to leave the
room. "Don't go; you should give me a
real reason for your studied discourtesy,
for I won't believe that I am naturally
abhorrent to you. There must be some
thing else."
"If you must know," says she, looking
back defiantly at him, her blood a little
hot, "you are too like your father for me
to pretend friendship with you."
"Oh', Vera, I think you shouldn't say
that!" cries Griselda, now honestly
frightened at the storm she bas raised,
but neither of the others hear her. Vera,
with one little slender white hand grasp
ing the back of a chair near her, is look
ing fixedly at Seaton, whose face has
changed. An expression of keen pain
crosses it.
"Has he been so bad to yon as that?"
he says; and then, with a profound sigh:
"My poor father!"
There is something so honestly grieved
In his whole air that Vera's heart smites
her.
"Why will you bring np this discussion
again and again?" she says, with re
morseful Impatience. "Why not let me
go my way unquestioned, and you yours?
What am I to you when all Is told? 1
am outside your life 1 ever shall be
yet It seems to me as If you were bent
on compelling my likes and dislikes."
"Yon are right," says he, going closer
to her, bis face very pale, "I would com
pel you to to more than like me."
"Compel!" She bas drawn back from
him, and her eyes, now uplifted, look de
fiance Into his.
"If I could." supplements be, gently.
He turns and leaves the room.
CHAPTER IX.
While the two girls were discussing. In
frightened way, the result of GriseMa's
Imprudence, Seaton was having a tussle,
sharp aud severe, with his father.
"They are all alone In the world." 'be
says.
"Yes, yes." acknowledges the old man
with a frown. "Except for me," hastily;
"I 1 alone came to their rescue."..
"That is true. It was quite what I
should have expected of you!"
"Why should you expect it? There wss
no reason," says the old man. sharply.
"It was of my own free will that 1 took
them. Io yon question my kindness to
them? What more am I to do for them?
Would you have me kneel at their feet
and do them homage? Have I not ex
plained to you how desirous I am of mak
ing one of them my daughter? Ha! 1
hare you there. I thiuk! Is not that af
fection? Am I not willing to receive
her? Yon shonld best know."
"Yes," says the young man, stonily, bis
eye on the ground.
"Why, look you; I would give her even
you! You! My son! My oue possession
that has any good in It!"
"You must put Chat idea out of your
head ouce for all. I could not combat
a dislike active as hers."
"Her dislike? Hers? That beggar r
his face working. "What d'ye mean, sir?
I tell you it shall be! Shall!" '
"Talking like that will not mend mat
ters. It certainly will hot alter the fact
that I myself personally am objection
able to her. I can see that it Is almost
as much as she can do to be civil to me
to sit at the same table with me. I en
treat you not to set your heart upon this
thing, for it can never be."
"I tell yoii again that it shiill!" shrieks
the old man, violently. "What! is the
cherished dream of a lifetime to be set
aside to suit the whim of a girl, a penni
less creatuay? She shall be your wife,
I swear It, though I have to crush the
consent out of her." He falls back clum
sily Into his chair, a huddled heap,
Seaton in an agony of remorse and fear
hangs over him, compelling him to swal
low a cordial lying on the table neaV.
"Here, sir. Be patient. All shall be
as you wish. I implore you to think no
more fit this matter. Yes," In answer to
the fiery eyes now more ghastly than
ever in the pallid, powerless face, "I
shall try my best to fulfill your desire."
He feels sick at heart as he says this,
and almost despicable; but can he let the
old man die for want of a word to ap
pease the- consuming rage that has
brought death hovering with outstretehi
ed wings above him? And yet, of what
avail is it all?. A momentary appease
ment. Even as he comforts and restores
his father, there rises before his mental
vision that pale, proud, sorrowful face,
that to a.'l the world to him, and yet,
alas! so little.
Vera having made up her mind to go
to her uncle aud fully explain to him that
neither she nor . Griselda desire any
change in their way of living, waits pa
tiently for Seatou's departure from his
father's den, and now, at last, seeing
the coast clear, goes quickly forward.
"Uncle Gregory, I wish to say some
thing to you," she Is beginning, hurried
ly, hating her task and hating her hearer,
when suddenly she is interrupted.
"Hah! For the first 'time, let me say,
I am glad to see you, says the old man,
grimly. "Hitherto I have been refiiiss,
I fear. In such minor matters of eti
quette. Sit down. I, too, have something
to say to you." He fixes his piercing
eyes on her and says, sharply: "You have
met my son several times?"
"Yes," says Vera.
J' You like him?" with a watchful
glance.
"I can hardly sny so much," coldlyJ
"He is neither more nor less than a com
plete stranger to me."
"As yet. Time will cure that; and I
speak thus early to you, because it is
well that you should make up your mind
beforehand to like him."
"Why?" she asks.
"Because In him you see your future
husband."
There Is a dead pause. The old man
sits with bright unblinking eyes fixed
upon the girl, who has risen to her feet
and is staring back at him as if hardly
daring to understand. From red to white,
from white to red she grows; tier breath
falls her, passionate indignation burns
hot within her breast. .
"Absurd!" she says, contemptuously.
"Call it so if you will," with an offend
ed flash from his dark -eyes, "but regard
It as a fact for all that. You will marry
your cousin, let nie assure you."
"That I certainly shall not," decisive
ly. "That you certainly shall. Did you
not know that your marriage with my
son was the last wish, the last command
of your father?"
lie is lying well, so well that at first'
the girl forgets to doubt him.
"My fnther?" she says, with much
amazement "He never so much as men
tioned my cousin's name to inc."
"To me, however, he did., Do yoif wish
to see the letter?"
This Is a bold stroke. Vera hesitates
then, "No," says she, steadily. "Even
if my father did express such a wish, I
should not for a moment accede to it. I
shall not marry to please any one, dead
or living, except myself." ,
"So you now think. We shall see,'' re
turns he, In an icy tone. ,
"May I ask if if your son is aware of
I
!
this arrangement?"
"My son is willing," says Mr. Dysart,
slowly.
At this moment the door Is thrown
open and Seaton himself enters. .
"You know!" she cries. Her tone Is
low, but each word rings clear as a bell,
"i'ou know! Oh, coward!" she breathes
very low, her slender luinds cliuched.
Housed from his lethargy and stung by
ber contempt, he would now have made
his defense, but with a scornful gesture
she waves him aside and leaves the
room.
"Great heaven! how did you dare so to
Insult her?" cries the young man, rn ter
rible agitation, addressing his father. He
casts a burning glance at hiin. -Dysart
cowers before it.
"Out of evil comes good," he says,, sul
lenly, "and 1 did it for the best." Hp
stretches out his hand to his son. "See,
then," be cries, eutreatiugly, "I did it for
you for you!"
"For me! You ruin the one hope 1
had, which meant silence time and you
say It was for my good!"
"I thought to compel her, to frighten
her into a consent, aud I will yet," cries
be, eagerly. "Nay, Seaton, do not look
thus upon me. I have not betrayed you
without meaning, and' all for the fulfill
ing of your desire and mine."
"You misunderstand me," says Seaton,
curbing his passion with difficulty. "1
would not have her as a gift on such
terms. Is it a slave I want, think you?
No, not another word! 1 cannot stand
it to-night. Forgive me, father, if 1
seem abrupt, but " s.
He seems heartbroken as he turns
aside and disappears through the door
way. Long after he has gone the old man
sits motionless, his head bowed upon his
breast.
"Curs her!" he says ,at last;- "the
same blood all through, and always to
my undoing! Cursed be her lot indeed it
ha comes between him and me! But
that shall never be."
Presently he passes through a door on
his right hand, gropes his way along the
nulighted passage. L'nlm king and enter
ing an apartment here where the
strange old cabinet stands he fastens
the door securely behind him, and goes
qiik'kly up to it.
Kneeling down beside it he unlocks the
secret door, and taking out the withered
parchment cpeus and reads it with a
feverish haste. It seems as though he
hopes thus to slake the ragini thirst for
revenge that is tormenting him.
Long he kneels thus, cunning each
word with curious care, gloating over the
contents of that mysterious dormufnt.
So lost is be in his perusal of it that he
fails to hear the approach of. Mrs.
Grunch until she lays her hand upon his
shoulder.
"What, don't yoo know it by heart
yeif asks she, derisively.
tTo be cofttinuedJ
THE VALENTINE MAN.
The ninn who makes the valentines tb
comic one. I luenn
Who hits us off la reason and In rhyme;
ilust tie very, very merry lu the month of
Feliruitry,
For he's laughing at tb whole world all
the time! - , ,
Perhaps he's In a building lf hundred
stnrles hhjth, s.
Where steeple-bells monotonously chime;
Aud lie looks down on us mortals as we
crawl lierentb the sky,
And he's laughing-laughing at us all the
time!
tie bus left the world forever, with Its
wheat and with Its chaff;
Aud la colors for a uennv, nr a dime.
Be rousts Its fails and follies till lis holds
his sides to laugh
In fact, he's liiugUlug at ns all the time!
Perhaps he was a toller In the musty, dusty
ways
Where poverty's accounted ss a. crime.
And roiildn't pay the rent up on the bill
. rolleetluK clays.
And the walil was laughing at him all the
time!
Perhaps he loved-was slighted by a Jeweled
nmlclen fair
Who heeded not his passion all sublime,
And tossed her curia uud told biui that she
re:ill didn't care.
And laughed blm from her presence all
the time.
And so. In despemtlon he departed from
the scne.
To mock the world In reason and In
rhyme;
An-he's very mad and merry In the month
.if Felon. irv,
And he's laughing at the whole world all
the time!
-Atlanta Constitution.
Rastas Jota's Valentin
rtOVLEXTIXE'S DAY came on Frl
w lay, and Miss Gray, the teacher of
- room No. 3, had consented to allow
the scholars to celebrate-. For a week
there had been much suppressed excite
ment; and the improvised postottice in
the room (rns fast filling with envelopes.
A nice program had been prepared, and
the mothers Of the girls'and boys were
Invited . to attend. Homer was not a
very large village, and so the Interest
In the school entertainment was wide
spread, and quite a .number of guests
were present.
Itastus Brown war the only colored boy
in Homer, and eve.yone liked him be
cause of his cheery face aud his willing
ness to help anyone at any time. He
lived with his grandmother, and she did
the most she could for him and managed
(o keep him In school. He was greatly
Interested In the coming entertainment
and had committed a poem to memory,
hoping he would he asked to tales part.
Mammy had promised to go to the school
that afternoon, and she, too, wished her
little grandson would be invited to speak,
but nothing was said about it. Rastus
suggested that perhaps someone might
forget his piece, and then he would be
ready to fill In the empty place, so Mam
my put on her black merino dress and
her old straw bonnet and went along.
Itastus was very proud of his grandmoth
er, and his little blnck face was full of
joy when he led her to Miss Gray and
said earnestly: "Mammy's come, too."
Miss Gray welcomed the old lady
warmly, but she felt sorry she had come,
as she remembered that Kastus had not
been invited to take part in the enter
tainment; she had entirely forgotten him,
and she knew how sensitive he was, be
ing the only colored boy In the school,
but she thought of the valentines and that
Itastus would he happy when bis namo
was called to receive one, and she dis
missed it from her mind.
The program went off nicely and no
one forgot his part, as Kastus had
thought .possible; but as the large box
of valentines' 'was placed on Miss Gray's
, desk aud she began to read on the names,
he forgot his disappointmen and watched
each valentine eagerly, thinking the next
oneAvoulil be for him. He had spent the
dime that Mammy gave him Christmas
for a valentine for Miss ray, and he
law her look at it earnestly and then
', look his way and smile, aud he knew that
. she was pleased. . Mammy, too, was
I watching and listening for Rastus' name,
and twice she whispered, "Your namo
iwill come next, hoDcy," but it never
came, and before they were missed, Main
j my and Kastus slipped quietly away and
out , into the storm, where Caesar, the
faithful old donkey, was waiting to carry
them home. The snow was coming down
very rapidly, but Caesar trotted aloug at
his best pace, wondering what had hap
pened to make bis master so quiet. Mam
my sighed ouce or twie and, Kastus
blinked real bard, but neither said a
word until they reached the Tittle house
on the hill. k
Rastus opened the door for her to go in
' and then led Caesar to the shed, which
served as a barn; the cracks were stuffed
with straw and the roof was covered
with branches from the trees, and the
donkey found it a comfortable home.
Slowly Kastus took the harness off, and
then he looked the old donkey in the face
and put his arms around Its neck and
bis head close to its ear and burst into
tears.
"Oh! Caesar, I feels awful bad; I wisht
I hadn't gone to school; you- know,
Caesar, this is Valentine's day, and mos
everybody got a valentine but me, I
guess." .
Caesar looked very solemn in sympathy
as he pricked up his long ears and rub
bed his nose against the dusky cheek.
J "Rastus! .K a-s-t-u-s!" called his
grandmother.
"Yes, I'8e comin", mammy," and wip
ing the shining drops from his sorrowful
face he tried to look cheerful and went
to the woodpile for an armful of sticks,
making a poor attempt at whistling.
j-
Miss Gray bad noticed that Rastna had
received no valenine, and she blamed
i herself greatly, although she had left
that part of the program entirely to the
pupils; but she felt amends must be mad
In some way, so she gathered together as
1 many of the boys and girls as she could
to talk the matter over. She reminded
them that In olden times a valentine was
a gift of love, not only a pretty or a fun
ny picture, and she suggested that they
! all together give Kastus ail old-fashioned
valentine,
I "Ills face Is black, but his heart Is
Just as tender and sensitive as our own;
1 we were all very thoughtless aad I am
sure will not feel happy until we do our.
; best to make Kastus forget our slight."
I "He is always ready to do for others,"
Mid Mildred II lie; "be often sharpens
my pencils for me."
i "And mine, too." added Nellie Smith,
snd all the rest agreed tb.it Kastus was
1 the nicest kind of a boy. and they felt
I very sorry that they had neglected him.
i Mis Cray had a plan to propose.
I "I thiuk it would be nice to surprise
him to-morrnw evenina ani take him
a new set f loks. I know his sl.ite is
cricked and his geography is a'l to piwvv
it is one I fonnd in the cuphwrd and
gave, to him. His reader hns n c.irer
at all. aad he has an spelling bx'."
Tb next evening they wre all cjthee-
ST LENA I MXH LIWIS,
"Oil, CAtH.AU, 1 FKl:l.g HAD."
ABRAHAM
B
fHEKE are few Americans who will deny to Abraham Lincoln the highest
trlbuta that the citizen of a democracy may bestow upon a fellow citizen.
Abraham Lincoln was the greatest of America's citizens. Not alone was
his greatness manifest In his mastery of circumstance aud grasp of tremendous
event, but he was great In the nobility of character that lifts mn to greatnesa
among tbelr fellow men in spite of circumstance. Abraham Lincoln was bora
great.
A sentimental patriotism bas erected Washington upon the pedestal of a
deity in the national pantheon and It is not so long since that a Jury of his coun
trymen voted hiin the greatest of Americana. But Washington was not greater
than Lincoln. He has been called the Father of his Country and he deserved
the title; but Lincoln has been called the Savior .of his country, and his memory
is revered by the posterity for whom he preserved this national heritage.
The perspective in which the character of Washington is viewed by this
generation is far removed, and the mists of a century lie between. There is a
glamour upon the actual presence and our estimate of the man is Influenced by
a patriotic prejudice acquired in the scHools of our youth. We do not see Wash
ington the man we worship at the sbrlne of Washington the hero. There is no
deception In our tiew of Lincoln. He .stands close to us. His rugged, serious
face Is familiar to living men as one that looked upon them but yesterday. Lin
coln is still with us, human like ourselves, subject to human passions, oppressed
as we are by human aorrows, beset by human vicissitudes and disturbed by hu
man doubts. Washington was one sort of gentleman; Lincoln, was a gentleman
of quite another sort. It was the boast of Lincoln that ha was of the people,
and so true was this that to-dny the memory of Lincoln Is paramount In the
hearts of the American people. Washington was a man of the time Lincoln
was a man of the people and of all time. What Washington accomplished might
hava been accomplished by any great man; that which Lincoln accomplished
could only have been accomplished by Lincoln. If the circumstance had not been'
fit there would have been no Washington; there would have been a Lincoln In
spite of circumstance.
History is already beginning to parallel and compare these two men the
greatest In American history; and the historian of the future will be called upon
to decide between them upon the distinctive merit attaching to a greatness that
created a nation and a greatness that has saved a nation.
Lincoln was a typical American. He was an American of the stock that
conquered the wilderness in the second generation succeeding the landing of
the Pilgrim Fathers; he was the strain that fought at Lexington and Bunker
Hill and planted the flag of the young republic on the outworks of Yorktown; he
was a lineal product of the sturdy American backwoodsmen who followed Boono
and Crockett into the pathless West to found a mighty empire. The country la
steadily outgrowing the conditions that served to produce Lincoln. The energy
that wrestled with nature in the forest and on the broad prairies is now concen
trating In a struggle with kindred energy for supremacy in the market places of
great cities and within the forums of States more densely populated than was
New England when Abraham Lincoln was born.
And the American of the distant future will think of Lincoln the man more
Intently than ho will think of Lincoln the statesman and President of ths American
republic. Our history will record the careers of men more brilliant mentally than
was Honest Old Abe, but the historian will concern himself only with the public
acts of these men, whereos he will dwell upon , the virtues, the splendid
manly qualities and the good sense of Lincoln. He will set down the traits of
kindly disposition and the homely utterance of this immortal commoner because
It will be necessary to do so If the generations of Americans for whom he
writes would thoroughly understand the motives and purposes of the man who
saved the nation from the greatest peril by which it has been or ever will be
menaced.
And the final verdict of history will be In the record that shall pronounce
Abraham Lincoln the greatest of Americans. '
ed at Miss Gray's, ready to start for the
little house on the hill. The snow had
piled high Iji drifts and everything seem
ed fairly buried from sight.
Rastus bad worked hard to shovel a
path from the house to the road, saying;
"It don' seem so lonesomelike when der's
a path out to de road." He snt by the
lire that evening reciting his geography
lesson to Mammy, ns she darned his mit
tens. There was a loud rap on the door
and they were startled, for It was seldom
anyone came to see them at night. When
the boy cautiously opened the door he
was met with a loud "Hurrah for Kastus
Johnson!" and the boys and girls poured
into the little kitchen ami deposited their
bags of nuts, candy and popcorn on the
table, and -the box containing the valen
tine was left In the shadow behind the
door. Jtastus hurriedly built . a fire In
the front room and they were soon nil
having a merry time, while Miss Gray
helped Mammy prepare some nice hot
coffee to serve with the rolls she had
brought.
At 11 o'clock the yonng folks all went
home, leaving a very happy boy and a
mysterious box behind them. When Kas
tus opened It be saw written on a beau
tiful new slate, "A Valentine," and as
he unpacked the books and everything a
hoy could use In school, he said softly to
Mammy: "I guess Saint Valentine tonch
ed der hearts, and dey bab touched
mine."
LINCOLN'8 HAT. .
Interesting Belle of the Great Presi
dent Owned by an Illinois Man.
When Abraham Lincoln selected his
wardrobe preparatory to leaving Illinois
for the White House he carefully laid
by several jMtracteristic hata. A man of
spare proportions, he nerer enjoyed the
freedom of sartorial choice, and hla hata,
more than any other articles of his cloth
ing now treasured as souvenirs, express
his peculiar individuality.
This hat was one of those chosen by
Mr. Lincoln before leaving Springfield,
and it is authoritatively stated that he
LINCOLN'S RAT.
wore it on his Journey to Washington.
In the years which followed he often
used it. After his assassination, in LStS.
Mrs. Lincoln fonnd the hat among his
effects, and when returning to Spring
field she packed and checked it as one of
the forty-six pieces of baggage she
brought home with her.
J. Galliger. a transfer man at Spring
field, delivered the hat case, and as Mrs.
i Lincoln chanced to he near when he un
; loaded it she told hint that he might hare
it ss a te':en of remembrance. It re
mained a highly rained bcH o:n in. the
Galliger family nntil m-ently. when 't
was !iiirrhsd by Sini'icl Hinkte. f
Sp'inzfiel I. The hnt is SW in i-. tt I
is in an r-jifll-n' t ite of p-rvri itioo
Si Louis Ketc hlic.
LINCOLN.
OX YOKE THAT LINCOLN MADE.
A recent rearrangement of relics in the
agricultural museum' of the University of
Illinois brought to light the old ox yoke
made by Abraham Lincoln and presented
-to the university in the early '70s. By
orders of President Draper the yoke was
inclosed iu a glass-topped case made of
boards from the old Lincoln home at
Springfield.
The yoke wss made by Lincoln when
he was on a farm near Decatur. For sev-
eral years it was in service about the
Lincoln homestead.
The yoke is of black walnut, and shows
evidence of hard usage. The workman
ship is rough, the iron parts being es
pecially crude.
One of the Marvels of History.
Abraham Lincoln la assuredly one of
the marvels of history. No land but
America has produced his like. This
destined chief of a nation In its most
perilous hour was the son of a thriftless
and wandering settler, bred In the .most
sordid poverty. He had received only
the rudiments of education, and though
ha afterward read eagerly such works
as were within bis reach it is wonderful
that be should have attained as speaker
and writer a mastery of language and
pure aa well as effective style, lie could
look back smiling on the day when hla
long shanka appeared bare below the
shrunken leather breeches which were
his only nether garment His frame was
gaunt and grotesque, but mighty.
He had a atrong and eminently fair un
derstanding, with great powera of pa
tient thought, which be cultivated by
the atndy of Euclid. ' In all hia views
there waa simplicity which bad Its
source In the simplicity of his character.
Hia local popularity was due largely to
hia humor. At the same time he was
melancholy, touched with the pathoa of
human life, fond of mournful poetry, re
ligious, though not orthodox, with a
strong sense of aa overruling providence,
which when he waa out of spirits some
times took the shape of fatalism. His
melancholy waa probably deepened by
hia gloomy snrroundings and by niisad
'venturea in love. Goldwin Smith.
Kindness of Heart.
President Lincoln's kindness of heart
was known to everybody. His doorkeep
ers had standing orders that, no matter
how grest might be the public throng,
if either Senators or Representatives had
to wait, or to be turned away, he mnst
see before the day closed every mesien
rer who rsnie to him with a petition v..
the saving of life. A woman earn ins v
bsby. waited three days at the Wirt
House to see Mr. I.hx-olu. Her h i
tnsnl. who had sent a substitute, hn l ,i
lUted subsequently hitusadf when i ti
irated and had deserted, been ra itur
snd seBteuced to Is- shut. O I. h w
thm-igh the ante-p-xmi Mr. I in ola h
the tinby err. H.- i-w an-;', v. ;i: '
to his nSlce an I r:i:il t'ie b, !l "ii::-'
s 1 LI he. "N t'l re ,1 v.:u:i wit-i
in t".w i nie-n n:n? S n r !" t '
cl re " "v tv V "'i J ' ' i -'
liie Pr .-;' .'.j.J u. i" . -
MABS SV
- ft S.UNC0LH . .
POLYGAMY THE BAIT.
WITH THIS THE MORMONS MAKE
CATCHES IN THE WEST.
Missionaries of the Latter-Day Saints
Bald to Be Preachln the Plural Mar
riage Gospel of Joseph Bmith-Two
Thousand Proselytes at Work.
Missionaries of the Mormon Church
have for some time been unusually act
ive In several of the Western State.
Most of them look
and act like farm
ers sons turned
into preachers with
out much more
preparation than a
thorough knowl
edge of the Mor
mon Bible, aud the
farming regions
have been selected
as the fields of ope
ration. They urge
the people to emi
grate to Utah and
Idaho. Formerly
joski'u smith, the missionaries
merely sought converts and were care
ful to Insist that polygamy was no
longer a doctrine of the cburcb. They
generally traveled Id pairs and weut
from bouse to house, quietly pushing
the work of convincing men aud wom
en that the Latter Day Church offered
a simpler and nobler plan of salvation
and belief than the older detwmlna
tlons They admitted that the old lead
ers had practiced polygamy and that
while they were obeying the letter of
the law In that they lived with but one
wife they were not shirking the duty of
support to the others still alive. In
their crusade they were aided by the
general belief that the church' had sub
mitted tojbe Inevitable and had ban
ished polygamy. They held public
meetings also and openly sought for
TEMPLE SQUARE.
converts. That tbey were successful
was proved by the number of congre
gations they organized In various parts
of Nebraska, Kansas and Iowa.
The campaign now being prosecuted
Is a masked one. It is no longer In
sisted on that polygamy has beeu ban
ished from the church. In a covert
way It Is stated that they are now
seeking coverts to the church because
polygamy Is possible In Utah and
Idaho, where the Mormons are the dom
inant power In politics. One of these
missionaries Is quoted as having. said
recently In a talk with prospective con
verts that the true Mormons have nev
er relinquished their polygamous be-;
lief s and that be expected to secure
many converts, ana tnnt in a cnurcn
governed and run as a business organ
ization a plurality of wives is not only
hot a burden, but a distinct help to
worldly prosperity, These arguments,
confined as they are to the less edu
cated part of the population, have been
bearing fruit, and It is said that soon
there will be a considerable Immigra
tion to the two States named.
These missionaries have been quoting
leaders of the church as saying that
the law of plural marriage Is God-glv
en, and that no Mormon need fear man
made laws. They are also accused of
tempting tbelr prospective converts
with a picture of Mormon supremacy In
the future by reason of the fact that
plurality of wives means larger fam
ilies, and that as the average non-Mormon
family numbers no more than
three children. In time the whole earth
will be Sited by the true believers.
Tbey seek to prove that In ancient dnys
I aiiuiuiiiK iu uutu uirir Diuie auu Him
or tue uinstian cnurcn, polygamy was
not regarded as a sin.
In fact these missionaries are preach
ing tbe old gospel according to Joseph
Smith, but with more cunning and
diplomacy. It Is recognized that the
Mormon Church holds the balance of
political power In Wyoming, Nevada
and Idaho, which means that Its very
practical lenders find It easy to secure
immunity from arrest and prosecution
to those Mormons who discreetly de
sire to continue tbelr old practices.
Even In the most flagrant cases of vio
lation" of the anti-polygamy law, only
nominal fines are assessed, and most
of tbe offenders Immediately return to
tbelr wives.
- Rev. Mr. Lllywblte, who has been In
charge of tbe Nebraska propaganda,
says that the church has now 2,000
earnest and active -missionaries at
work In the United States. This In
cludes those In charge of churches.
It bas been found difficult to secure
much of a foothold In tbe States east
of the Mississippi, because of tbe great
er prejudice that exists against any
thing that bears the name of Mormon.
Tbe policy of the apostles who have
charge of all civil and religious mat
ters, has been to bunch tbe believers
Id one part of the country, and when
converts are secured In tbe East every
Inducement is held out to them to set
tle In Utah, Nevada. Idaho or Wyo
ming. More recently the apostle have
given orders to extend tbelr domain a
little farther to the East to tnclnde
ftp
BRIOnAM TOCRO.
Colorado, New Mexico snd later It Is
presumed, Kansas nod Nebraska.
The autl polygamlsts declare tbnt the
present missionary movement Is In
tended, In part, to create a public eu.
tlment that will not retard the Mor
mon Church's growth, while at the
smile time effort ts being made to gain
a membership that will In the future
make It Impossible ever to prohibit
polygamy by amendment to the Fed
eral Constitution.
ARE SLAVES TO CAMPHOR.
New, York Women Have Taken to a
New Drug Habit.
Women far more readily than men
fall Into the drug habit. It la estimated
by medical Journals of repute that there
are four times more women than men
addicted to the morphine and. cocaine
habits. The cause Is. probably, that
physicians too often prescribe these
drugs to alleviate the sufferings to
which tbelr finer nervous organization
renders them subject
It Is now learned fro Eastern phy
sicians that women have of late be
come addicted to the camphor habit.
The motive Is "be Improvement of the
complexion and the meaus adopted" la
camphor eating. The number of cam
phor eaters among the well-to-do
classes In tills and other cities would. It
Is said, cause a sensation If known. Of
course the practice Is carried on secret
ly as far as possible.
The Idea seems to prevail that this
gum, taken In small and regular doses,
gives a peculiar clear creamluess of
complexion, and scores of young wom
en buy It for this purpose. The habit.
Is. moreover, very difficult to cast off,
for camphor produces a mild form of
exhilaration and stupefaction and lu
many Instances where very Urge doses
have been swallowed the habit has be
come a sort of slavery.
Camphor eaters all have a dreamy,
dazed and very listless air and In most
of them there Is an ever-present long
ing to sleep, or at least to rest. Ex
treme weakness generally follows the
SALT LAKE CITY.
taking of regular doses and cases bavo
been seen where It bas been almost
difficult to tell the effects from those
of alcohol. As to the complexion. If a
ghastly pallor be an Improvement cam
phor certainly produces It
Advertising Is the "Golden Gate" to
prosperity.
It bas been predicted that In time the
newspaper advertisement will be the
universal and exclusive means of pub
licity, not only for business but for all
other affairs.
In the opinion of tbe successful busi
ness man It Is quite as Important to ad
vertise as It Is to have something to sell
or services to offer. The best bargains
In the world would be of little Import
ance If tbe people should not know of
them. The hardest thing for the begin
ner Is to dare to use a reasonable part
of bis capital for advertising; yet until
he shall acquire tbe necessary courage
to do this he will fall short of the trade
he might have.
At the recent meeting In New York
of the business men who form tbe
Sphinx Club. "Advertising" waa tbe
subject that was disclosed. Oue of the
speakers, Mr. It C. Ogden, stated that
advertising Is as esseutlal as a place of
business. To beginners he said: "You
must contrive In the shortest possible
time to let the greatest possible num
ber of citizens know of your existence.
This Is general advertising. Then call
attention to particular goods, which Is
special advertising. Teach people to be
lieve your announcements."
A few years ago a great deal of In
genuity was wasted In fooling people
Into reading advertisements. Tbe com
monest plan was to devise a newspaper
article which, beginning as a thrilling
story, ended as a flat advertisement.
Few "people, however, read beyond the
point where the advertisement proper
commenced. This method of obtaining
readers soon fell Into desuetude, and
the Ingenious advertiser now prlutsl
only the advertisement; but be makes
tbe ad so Interesting that everybody
wants to read It Wichita (Kan.)
Eagle.
An experienced New England mer
chant recently gave expression to his
views on effective advertising, and as
he virtually repeated what so many
others have said bis opinions may be
regarded ss established principles. He
declared that "It Is the constant steady
pull that wlna customers.". He named
"dozens of concerns that have grown
rich from the liberal ose of newspaper
space," while he knew of "no success
ful merchant who did not advertise."
Finally, "newspaper advertising Is the
best and In the long ran the cheapest."
Obituary Notice of a Mare.
A recent number of tbe Westminster
Gazette contains tbe following obitu
ary notice: "Mercifully sent to sleep
at Landguard, full of years and honor.
Freedom, a chestnut mare, belonging
to Dr. Cowper. She was bred by me
and was named Freedom by Mr. Rart
k-tt oo account of ber absolute free
dom of movement when quite a tiny
Ally. Id ber best days she would be
hard to pass on any ruad."
Wages to Ohio Wurkmea.
Ohio manufacturers paid la wages
last year ttu.0i31.314. an increase or
$10,414,943 over the previous year.
fet
TiB'
GEO. P. GROWELL.
iRuccewor to K. t. Hmlth,
laubllahed House In ths vstlcy.J
DEALER IN
Dry Goods, Groceries,
Boots and Shoes,
Hardware,
Flour and Feed, etc.
This old-established house will cop-
tinii tn nan iMiati (nr all its uooilst it
pays no rent; it employs a clerk, but
does not have to divide with a partner.
All dividends are mane wun cuswiuon
in the way of reasonable prices.
Davenport Bros.
Are running their two mills, planer and box
factory, and can fill ordeft for
Lumber
Boxes, Wood
and Posts
ON SHORT NOTICE.
THE REGULATOR LINE.
Dalles, Portland & Astoria
Navigation Co.
COMMENCING JAN. 1. U02,
And continuing until March 1, 1002,
this company will have but one steamer
running between The Dalles and Port
land; leaving The Dalles Monday,
Wednesday and Friday, and Portland
Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.
STEAMERS
Regulator, Dalles Gty, Reliance.
WHITE COLLAR LINE.
The Dalles-Portland Route
Str. " Tahoma,"
Bttwetn Portland, Tht Dalits and Ws, Points
TIME CARD
Leaves Portlsnd Mondavs, Wednesdays snd
Fridays at 7 a. m. Arrives The Dalies, sums
day, 6 p. m.
Leaves The Dalles Tnenilavs, Thursdays and
Saturdays, 7 a. m. Arrives For tlsnu, same day,
4 p. m.
This route has the grandest scenic attractions '
on earth.
Str. "Bailey Gatzort,"
Daily Round Trips, except Sunday.
TIMS CARD.
Leave Portland...7 a.m. I Leave Astoria.....? a.m.
Landing and oftice. toot ot Alder street. Both
'phones, Main 861, Portland, Or. N
E. W. CRICHTON, Agent, Portland.
JOHN M. R1LLOON, Aitent. The Dalles.
A. i. TAYLOR, Agent, Astoria.
1, C. WYATT, Ajtent, Vancouver.
WOLFORD A W YKR8, Agts., White Salmon.
R. B. GILBRETH, Agent, lyle, Wash.
PRATHER & HEMMAN,
Agontt at Hood Rlvtr
OREGON
Siiot Line
and union Pacific
Vio IHvSo ii Mo
Vfasp'u'V. ' w
.uaraar Hood mWf. Aaaivi
,BH Lake, Denver,
Chleaso Ft. Worth.Omaha, Portland
Special Kansas City, St. Special
11:25a. m. i I,oui.,clilcu8oanJ 1:06p.m.
last.
Walla Walla lwls.
pokan ton.Spokane.Min- Fortlandl
Flyer tieapolit.Kt. Paul, Fiysr
1:27 p.m. Dnliith. Mllnan- 110 a. at.
ke,(.'l!lcKoKa.tt
Salt I,k, Denver,
Wall and Ft. Worth.Omaha, Mall and.
Kiprau Kanaa Cltv, St. Kipreas
11:42 p.m. Loutn.Cnluagoaud l.ia.av
till.
OCEAN AND RIVER SCHEDULE
HIPS PORTLAND.
1:00 p. av All tailing dates d.OSa. av
subject to change
For Ban Franclneo
fcail arcry days
Daily Cshmkla liter 4 00 a. art
Ex.Hunrtay SlMawrs. Ix. Suodar
I lk .n. '
fatorday To Attnrla and Way
Him p. m. liidinga
:4Sa.aa. MIHaawf sinar. 4:p.m,
ai.ttuuday Oretton City, No. Kx. guadar
torf. Haiom, Ind.
pcurieiir Hay
laiidmsa.
1:00 a m. nuiaawHo od Vaav I p. m.
Tuo-. Thor.i kWSiws. Ho., Wad.
aud Sat. aadrn.
Orecoa City, Day.
ton. a Way Land-
tun.
1 5a . wataawa llwr. 4 SO p. at.
Tna..Tal Mo,w4.
and Sat. Portland to CorraU and PrL
iu Way Land-
'
tv. a I part aaass Kivia. r,f towlotaa
i:?' Rlpr'-aaLwUtoB ' m.
dally
to rates and other lntormattoa writ to
..A. L. CRAIG,
t r-aasrnger Afont. Portland, Of.
. ... .-. Caat. IM It I vor.