Image provided by: Klamath County Museums; Klamath Falls, OR
About Klamath republican. (Klamath Falls, Or.) 1896-1914 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 2, 1913)
_________ CA 1-! KORNIA FA R M ER SECTION yur old shop* Then you'd make a lh In*. If she'd married me, I’d been batting .400. Now, see Pin a bualx-r and going down.** Wiley aat listening "| suppose,’ he murmurod, like a man who rallshes his anticipation but draw« b««k from Ila •nds. Ila had swung the circle of lhe Waal like moat of the Midland young men. Homesteading In Dakota, min ing. timber cruising, selling real eatata, running country paparg, leading for lorn hopes of Imi’oaalble reforms In the wide open camps of Nevada and Mon tana. fruit raising on the Matagorda coast of Texas, exploiting reclamation projects In lx>ulslana 4d «ays the en thusiast, the dreamer, gaining, for himself nothing at all except the ardor «*/ the garnn- the mighty and expiring drama of the old West tn the nineties he had seen and lived and exulted In; free- footed and shiftless for sixteen yearn he had misted nothing of the last of the great days lie had writtan once of the tlul round-up In tho southwest ern cattle country and Its epic note had aroused the magaxlne makers for Ila brilliance and Its pathos. A dying flame with the life It celebrated. He had done nothlrg more; he was back In the old town, and merely Curran of the Newt. 11« looked from Janet Vance’s office window to his shop, a long on*-story building, unpointed. gray, like a worm that had crawled hungrily down from the bluff to High Street, to stare at the court-house from Its two grimy win dows. You would never have thought that out of this lethargic monster came more contraItand opinions, and Into It more unpaid bills than any print-shop In Iowa Over ’he lawn from the basement Jn I ■ >tt a man who smelled of car- b< II.- a. I Tho town kids knew he whs a tr sty'* and that some of the prisoners came every day to get the •>. hang s from the News office. The fumigat'd one spoke pleasantly to the editor and went tn for the papers lie rummag «1 tho editor's desk, opened a drawer and Ailed his pipe from the editor’s tol>acco, and came out. In the drawer were two dollars of the editor's money but ths )alt-btrd did not touch them that wouldn't have been play ing square with "Wiley**. H u I hi watched him go back to the court -house Jail. Around the square lights were coming now and then; from ftlcklnaon's grocery, the Hub Clothing House with Its lacnbaum A Klcken- helmer clothes from New York; the Palace of Hweets. with a departing group of high-school girls, and a coun tryman gaxlng in lhe window mill pond al the gold Ash; the ktrsl Na tional Hank with the gilt legend. "Van Hart A fkinley", above the cornice, and be', r.- It the historic hltchlm' |MM with the lead bullet implanted In the eopi erhead riot of '13—prosy and com- ■»<•1.1 lace It might ba, but how dear and furol liar was tt all! Even Wiley T. Curran, the town's insurgent, knew tt. now that ha was ba.'k. a bit gray about tho temples after years on the great highway be yond the everlasting hills. Rube voiced the curious call of home-coming: “It's funny how some times we all want to get back. There was the two Rchnltxler boys and Mor rison ain't he In the t>ank. now? And you and me once lien McFetridg* batted a fly clean up In the court house cb>ck and stopped It for six months remember? And the night we was staling Tanner's grnpea, and you fell through the arbor on the old woman, and they pinched you—re- member.’ What's Thad Tanner doing M " ” "Htlll running the county board— • nklng u» on bridge contracts.'* "Fame little old boas, eh? And Boydston and Curry still on the hoard and putting Tanner's work through?** "Sure.'* •'And Old Mowry, the undertaker, still living across front the Widow H ickm -’ s and watching for the old lady to die, ehf* ■'Yea at 111 buying his groceries of Dickinson, lhe old lady's nephew, though he liates him worae’n poison, because he figures on getting the case when slio passes. Yes, sir- -seven years now Mowry hns traded st D*ck ■ Inson's waiting for tho widow to pass, and every »wk they expect hor to go, and she hangs on.** Ilube looked across at the widow's garden. Its canna and Are-bush bril liant in the dusk. "Hufferlng Johnson, don't anybody ever die here, Wiley ?*’ “Na If they did the Nows would have a linotype, Ttubc, and ba a dally; and the old town would have street lights and sidewalks. Look nt Earl ville with its factories springing up. and tho way they're opening up the soft coal strenks on tho upper creek! Why wo could have had all that If peo ple here had allowed the railroad to come Ini They chased away a flfty- thotisand-dollar canning plant lust spring because they didn't want a fac tory class tn Romo. I came pretty near suspending publication whou 1 heard that.” "Whnt Rome needs Is a few first • 0 The New Hupmobile with Pressed Steel Pullman Body. No, In the last analysis a pressed steel body wasn't actually necessary. Nor are steel cars necessary on railroad trains. Hut you'd rather ride in a steel train or a steel motor car, wouldn't you? That's why we had these bodies designed and con structed by the builders of Pullman cam. Because they are the brat automobile bodies built. Ths Hupmobile was first In thia. Just as It was first Ln the distinctive Hupmobile de sign now so widely adopted. A press'd steel frame as costly as curs wasn't nec essary. either. Hut you wouldn't trade the added safety for a few dollars less In cost, would you? You wouldn’t give up the longer life of the car and lhe power to withstand shocks and strains? A long-stroke engine Isn't necessary, either. Hut everybody knows It's a better engine. We don't have to use as much aluminum as we do, either. Hut it makes a better Hupmobile; and so we use It. We don't have to use mors high priced steel than any car of our class In the world. But It makes a better Hupmobile; and we use it. You've heard us say we believe the Hupmobile Is ths best car of its class in the world. Well, we've just told you a few of the reasons why we say IL We believe It's the best farmer's car in the world, too. We believe it will keep going more days In the year. We believe It will cost him less to keep It going. And if you write for details; and get a good, whole hearted demonstration, you'll think so, too. Hupp Motor Car Company, 1324 Milwaukee Avenue, Detroit, Michigan. er—glO-O I. o. b. Detroit Four-cylinder long stroke motor, IkilH Inches, unit power plant. Selective type trans mission sliding gears, ’'enter control. Full floating mar a»le. 104-ttieh wheel base Tires. >>x3H. I». Hear shock absorber. Magneto rain shield. Equipment—Haiti vision ventilating windshield; mohair top with envelope; Hupmobile Jiffy curtains, speedometer; cocoa mat In tonneau; I*rest-O-I.lte; oil lamps; tools. Trimmings, black and nickel. fwo-ewlt electric geaeratur a»d ■■Ki" Tssrlas far or Tw o-*asarager Roadster with 1 Vestlnaboia «e eisrteri eleetrte Ila Stsi e.rr-stse tires, 3314 tael arai deinwu ntable rtnas. extra ria> and tire carrier at rear—gisti« i. o. b. Detroit. class funerals, Wiley." "Yeu bet'" prayed the editor fer vently. "W'.ley," murmured ilube, “you ge. out the rotteneat parer in low*, and the old town It has no manner of use for you. but 1 like you. Yon ain't bat ting anywhere near .300, but you can carry bats. I'm coming up to supper tonight" "Sure thine. Ilube!'* The editor glar ced to th* back of his lot where the cottage light was glowing. I’is old housekeeper was always prepared for guests, for to Mr. Curran's table came every unknown itinerant of the road shy fanners from tho backwoods bot toms of the north side of the county, blacklisted railroad inen from the Chi cago strikes, any one. In fact, who had no welcome elsewhere. The editor languidly snapped hie watch. The pressmen had long An- ished with the paper; and although the pettifogger's pleading still camo from the court room, the warm Sep tember dusk had fallen. Somewhere up the bluff a cow was bawling, and from the high school cnm| us cuino the caroling of boys' voices. "Court's late with that case." mur mured Rube,* "and ain't tluit the judge's soli come to drive him home A young man was getting out of a rather smart rig nt the court-house hitching-rail. He helped after him a girl In white, and though the evening hid their faces, the frank and easy banter of their parting made plain their camaraderie. The girl tripped on to a store, and th« young man saun tered toward the News office. Half way across, hla careless hall enme to Wiley Curran. Thon his eye wont to Ilube. He leaped tho tarweed gutter and grasped his uncle's hand. "Why, Rube," he cried In his rare friendliness. "Put her there! Wiley and I saw in tho Tribune about that triple you and Kolly and Schmits put over In that Inst game with Peoria- some class, Rubel’ Rube grinned appreciation. "Flare- up, Harlan. My arm’s all In.” Tie held this good-humored, llthely-bullt neph ew off and looked him over. Ills blonde hair curled in a llkubk way for women and his smile had openness and seren ity. Yet in his heartiness there was reserve. Ills clothes helped that inde- Anable Impression of class and poise which was Inherited; but above all significant distinctions there stood forth his blithe and common-sense democracy, that uneradlcable quality of the best American. "Harvard," went on Rube, "don't seem to have much on you." Harlan laughed. He pounded Rube's dusty shoulder. "Come on up to din ner, Rube. Father and I want a line on the world’s series!” Rube hesitated. "I'm a-going with Wiley, son. Somehow, I couldn't talk bascl«Lll up at your house. The judge Is all rtghL but somehow a man can't hang out at a livery-stable and feel at home with your mother. She always looks as If I smelled)” Harlan smiled slowly. "Oh. com- on!" But he was thinking. Everybody knew Rube would work all winter at Carmichael's stable and get drunk on bootlog whisky with printers and farm hands, and his mother—well. Rube flnlshed the thought. “You sec, Har lan, your mother's a mighty fine wom an, but there's never much between us. I'p at your table my hands and feet reem so blamed big—and once, Harlan 1 busted right into a wimmen's club when I went thero!’* Wiley and Harlan shouted. Rube, the black sheep, at Mrs. Van Hart's club meeting--they could Imagine that! Rube went on grinning: “When you and Ellso Dickinson get married and hnvo a home, 1'11 come up and tell you how to put 'em over the plate.” Harlan's reserve came back. “Rube, I'm not engaged to Elisa. Every time I go back to school somebody starts that yarn.” Wiley watched him keenly. He culd see the rich grocer's daughter down High street apparently waiting at the drug-store corner. Ellso was going East to school this year—Bryn Mawr or Wellesley—Wiley recalled. He thought It was Mrs. Van Hart who prompted this rather than have Miss Dickinson "tlrlsh" at tho Baptist Sem inary In Romo. Mrs. Van Hart's word was of weight on High street ■■<■‘1 the grocer had more money than any one except Thaddeus Toner. But something in Harlan’s straight- out declaration decided Wiley that th* mother's grooming of a prospective daughter-in-law would be in vain. Ellse was an extraordinarily "nice” girl There was no doubt of that. But what attracted Curran the most was some potential rebellion tn Harlan. Judge Van Hart's wife was not only the arbiter of High streeL but it was said, with show of truth, that she ruled her family with something of the au thority of a grand dame of the old school. Mr. Curran and the News wor* her | et aversions—as Mr. Curran mis chievously knew, but nothing had ever withheld the affectionate friendship of Harlan and himself. “Well, I didn't know,” muttered Rub* apologetically. "All the kids grow up and get married. Except Wiley and me—but then we never growed upl" And he and Wiley laughed wistfully together. "Well. I'm going down to the station and lug up my stuff." wen* on Rube "Tell Aunt Abby to hav* hot biscuits, Wiley . . . and honey!" The town kids straggled after Ruoa "Nobody,” sighed Mr. Curran, "r ants to be an editor.” Nobody did. At least nobody tn Rome. All the kids would rather grow up to be noble and handsome and great and able to bat .400 like Rube Van Hart. They would rather sneak into Carmichael's stable and help bed ths horses than go Ashing. Only two of all the bare-legged crew remained. The yelps and kyoodlcs had wandered home or after Rube and his Idolaters—all except the Widow Steg er's dog, a long, strange, Herman sort of dog with no legs to speak of, a lonesome boyless kyoodle that had to go home early and sleep under the ger« anluin box. (To He Continued) A Chink by the name of Ching I.Ing Fell off a street car—bing! bing! lhe con turned his head. To a passenger said, "The car's lost a washer"—ding! dingl