Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 305, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 December 1910 — Page 2

Her Silent Crush

Steven Paston was bored to death. He shunned social affairs in a blase fashion unnatural for a youngster ®°t yet twenty-live. Girls had somehow gotten on his nerves, and he atanknhout with his dog and his pipe, taking what Joy he had in abusing the Wood college baseball team , which he was disgustedly coaching. Lately, the team had been losing games for some inexplicable reason. At practise the boys filled his bosom with joy, but put them up against a neighboring college team, and they invariably started out well —but finished badly. He had finally got the trouble traced to Myers and Townsend. They always did some fatally foolish thing at the last minute. Then his sister gave him a key to the trouble. He had been complaining to her of these two, and she, with the bright ready wisdom of a young married woman, diagnosed. "It's—girl," she announced, “pure girl! Myers alwayd has Flossie Evers waiting round with a picnic basket for the game to end. Townsend fusses after Maude Forest. What can you expect? It’s the end of their last year, and they’re in honor bound to go home engaged!” “So that’s it. is it?” Steve looked at her in open admiration as he stood In the study door and filled his pipe. He was a goodly sight enough—big, brawny, masculine, with a fine eye and a reluctant but unforgetable smile. His sister certainly mußt know what she was talking about. Girl! He straightway resolved to give Myers and Townsend a talk that Would make them mad enough to win 'She next game! Girl, indeed! Though his sister gloried in his own attitude to the sex, she could not help giving him also a fling. “Perhaps it’s the coach, too," she remarked slyly. “You’re pretty canny, Steve, but I should think the way the girls in this manless town pursue ! you would begin to take effect pretty :8oon! A man escapes ninety-nine jtlmes and falls wounded the hundredth time. Mllly was here today to :see if she couldn't take baby out for j* walk, She’D bring him back jusl late enough so I’U have to ask her to dinner. Then she’ll stay so long I’ll have to send you home with her.” Steve grunted in an ashamed sort of fashion. He would have stopped her if he could. . ! “And Mabel Dwyermnl Irene Sorter Want you to come to their Impromptu jdanoe tomorrow night. It’s given by the town girls. You can take any town girl who will go with you. That’s just what Irene said." At this the young fellow turned in disgust into the study and threw himself on the couch to read. But he did not read; he thought it carefully over. Being young, he loved dancing; also he liked girls—of his own sort —the sort that let a man do his own pursuing, and maiile the chase interesting and often vain. While he was still meditating disgustedly, sister again appeared with her sweetest smile —and the darning basket. She sat down and surveyed him. “It's going to be a pretty dance,” she said casually. “Whom are you thinking of asking? You might put the names in your hat and draw. There’s not much choice.” She was thinking of Helen Weaver, but knew better than to mention her: - She would have been quite willing to have Helen for a sister-in-law. “Oh—what’s the matter with Helen —if she would go with me?” Suddenly he sprang up and went to the ’phone. He called up Helen, and in his impatient, yet somehow humble voice, asked her. Yes; she would go with him —gladly. After a moment’s talk he hung up the receiver. Her cordiality was undoubtedly genuine. It was unmistakably friendly. But it was nothing more, fie felt that after a year of a more or less intimate acquaintance he hardly knew “ her, though she was perfectly frank and had been about with him a good deal in a caftial way. Then he called up Irene and told her he was coming to the dance, of course, and it was lovely of her to ask him—and he would bring Helen Weaver, whom he had already asked. He felt the little chill in Irene’s voice and knew he should have asked her instead. When he got back to the study he was relieved that sister had been called to the parlor by a visitor. The door was open and he could hear them chatter. It was Edythe Allen, in her devil-may-carest mood. She was enough older than Steve to Joke about him and not be misunderstood. She had laved over the absent baby, talked about the neighbors, the latest college scandal and her own new consignment of hair from the city; then she began on the dance —and then on Steve. A sixth sense told her he was listening and the madcap knew he hated being adored —and discussed “How’s Adonis—and his brigade of female admirers?” she asked his siste*. ”1 saw him loping by this morning a little late for class, and as I was but for mischief, 1 listened to jtbe girts raving about him on the /campus. Does he know bow lovely te ®v®ry girl in town is crazy |&out him, and foolish enough to say

By JOANNA SINGLE

so to some other girl who invariably tells! Even Helen Ware ” Steve sat up angrily. He was going out to defend her. Then he remembered that he could better help her- hyiJteeping stia. -But sister rose to the ( occasion. “Helen is not that sort ” shewas beginning .a little coldly when Edythe broke in. “Let me finish, do! 1 was going to say, that even she, though she says and does nothing, Is deeper in than any of them!. One of those intense silent crushes. I don’t know how I know—but Ido know! Oh, isn’t that the prettiest Irish crochet! I don't see how you_ get time to do it, with a baby and a husband and a brother to look after! I’m sure with only myself, I never make anything ” and so on until almost dinner. Then she departed just in time to meet Milly bringing back the baby. Steve heard sister invite the girl to stay. He snatched his hat. As a member of the faculty, he darqd not get a free lunch. He went to the first chop house and ate a beefsteak. Then he took to the open country back of the campus and went with long strides to a little strip of wood. June was very sweet and green, and his pipe was solacing. He knew a -place where he could rest in peace, but as he turned a corner he ran squarely Into Maltbie, whom he hated. “Hello,” he said. “Where you going?” “Seen Miss Weaver anywhere, pastor?—Her brother said she went for a walk —I wanted to ask her to the dance before some idiot ” “Before some other idiot does?” finished Steve. “You’re too late. Just aßked her myself—over the phone. J>Jow you clear out while I brood oVhr my . luck.” He said this with a grin, but Maltbie knew enough to depart He was not out of sight before Steve heard a suspicious noise and turned to look about him. A gray skirt showed behind a nearby tree. He investigated, and the girl laughed outright “I>hated to eavesdrop,” said Helen, “but I saw him first, which means that I hid promptly. I just managed to keep out of his sight all the way here. I’ll deal with Jimmy for telling where I went” She stood looking at Steve coolly enough, and still she was friendly—very friendly. He somehow forgot to take his eyes from her face, but she did not blush. “I’m glad I had promised to go to the dance with you. If I had actually been brought to bay I could have told Sam Maltbie that—but I hate even to give kirn a chance to ask—he’s ” “Such a hopeless donkey,” finished Steve, still walking; beside^her. He no longer thought of resting. He was thinking how little she looked like a girl with a “silent crush.” In his heart he declared that Edythe had been wrong. Helen certainly had never showed a sign of caring for him when he sought her; she had never by so much as an extra smile sought to attract him. She did not care. He felt a little empty and lonesome somehow. Then, without warning, she left him at the first turn. “I mußt go back —I’m expecting company. No, don’t come with me—go on for your walk. I’ll he ready about 8 tomorrow evening.” At the dance the next evening be was baffled by her manner. He was sure she did not care —and yet he could not forget the foolish gossip of his sister’s caller. When Helen would not dance with him he found a wall flower and conscientiously did hia duty. Did she care? He spent one dance in the smoking room, when a new question came to him. Why did he want to know whether or not she cared? What was it to him? Why—he loved her, that was it! The full wonder of it all came over him. It was like him to go straight to the dressing room and ask the maid for Miss Weaver’s wrap. And It was like him to march up to the girl at the end of the waltz she was dancing, and insist on taking her out into the fresh night air. It was also like him not to mind about the the wrath of her disappointed partners. When he had made sure that they were out of sight and hearing, he turned and faced her. “I wanted to ask you—to tell you—something,” he said. She smiled in the old friendly way. But she did not help hint. He had to do it all himself. “1 —I’m crazy about you, Helen. I love you with all my heart. Could you—do you care—too? Do you? Will you marry me? He held hia hands out Then she laid both here in them and looked np at him, her eyes wet with unshed tears. She nAdded again and again. “Oh, say you love me, Helen! Can’t you say it?” She let him draw her closer. “It’d too big—and deep—and beautiful to talk about,” she said, “but I don’t mind telling just you that If you hadn’t loved me and told me so. I believe,l should have died!” He laughed in utter contentment It was another case of girl. But he did not know it —became it had bap pened to him.

THE TEXAS RANGERS

THE TEXAS RANGERS, who have had a prominent part in trouble along our southwestern border, constitute a force that is more feared by miscreants than any other body of men that civilization has ever organized. They carry law and order to the remote regions along the Rio Grande, where outlaws of two nations take refuge. They carry it into the backwoods, where feuds rage constantly, beside which those of Kentucky’s mountains sink into insignificance. They carry it into populous cities. They carry it into every nook and comer of that great state of Texas, the extent of which is such that they are problems to face such as other states dream not of. The Texas rangerß are the most picturesque set of legalized fighting men in this country. They have no counterpart in the world. Only forty in number, they are equal to almost any emergency that may arise when it comes to putting to a test real fighting qualities. The presence of one ranger upon a scene of disorder and threatened lawlessness is usually sufficient to quickly restore peace and uphold the dignity of the law. The ranger is there to do his duty. * He does it fearlessly. The rangers are picked men, every one of them. They must be proved experts in marksmanship and at*home in the saddle; they must be of good moral character, which means that they do not drink or gamble. When a vacancy in a company occurs the captain selects the man to fill it. “I can look into a man’s eyes and tell whether he has got the right kind of stuff in him to make a good ranger,” Captain W. J. (6ill) McDonald, who saw many years in the service, said the other day. “I never made a mistake in picking my men.” Most of the rangers were former cowboys. When a man leaves the ranger service he usually either goes back to the ranch or takes a position as peace officer in some county or city. The official reports of the adjutant general’s department of Texas show that during the period from 1870 to 1884 Indians and Mexican thieves stole 30,838 head of cattle, 3,781 horses and 2,436 sheep. The marauders killed hundreds of citizens, burned many homes and destroyed a vast amount of property. “Although cattle stealing was the original object of the raids, the lawless bands engaged in them have been necessarily led to the perpetration of other and greater crimes. The lawless spirit engendered by their trade, and their own protection, caused them to murder travelers who happened to meet them on their raids, and those whom they thought might inform against them. In fact, these raids were soon turned into general robbery and murder. The conditions on the lower Rio Grande border region began to improve as soon as Captain L. H. Mc- ! Nelly and his company of rangers ■ were sent down there to run down the outlaws. McNelly adopted the policy of giving no quarter. He asked none. It was a fight to the death when he and his men got within shooting distance of the Mexican thieves. The men who won distinction in the Texas ranger service were the forerunners of the present era of peace, development and prosperity that the state Is enjoying. Most of the many rangers who won distinction for their bravery and notable* exploits in the performance of their duty are dead. Some were killed in the service, others succumbed to natural causes. ▲

few of them are still alive and active. Rangers Carnes, Lawrence, West and Craighead recently rode into a jungle that skirts the Rio Grande near its mouth. Mexican renegades were hidden in the thickets and the rangers knew the deadly peril into which they rode. Despite the disadvantage under which they worked, the rangers rode into the thicket. They could die hut once and their business was to court death. A road had been cut through the jungle and following this the rangers were qjnbushed. The outlaws opened on them at close nange with shotguns and every man went down. Carnes and Lawrence were killed and Craighead and West were wounded. Pablo Trevino was so indiscreet as to peep for a moment from the thicket and Ranger Carnes, whose right arm was broken and who was near death, shifted his six-shooter to his left hand and got his man, then died. Sergeant W. J. L. Sullivan, who has been shot to pieces so many times that he is no longer able to chase outlaws, is doorkeeper for the house side of the Texas legislature. He has the reputation of having been the best ranger sergeant that the force ever knew. If the present movement to abolish the rangers Is not carried into effect by the legislature it is probable that

the service will be completely reofs ganlzed. It is planned to merge the four companies, each of which now consists of only ten men, into on* company of forty fnen, and to place It in charge of an experienced officer, who shall hare full control of all ranger operations.

POINTED PARAGRAPHS.

The good promoter Is true to hie trust If you could have what yon wanted, would you want It? A man Is down in the world when he’s on his uppers. A wise man never bets on a sure thing or a woman’s age. Hope is a valuable asset—until you try to raise money on it Instead of tellinf What you are going to do tell what you did. —* ' -A* A man fears a woman’s tears as much as he fears her tongue. It takes a contrary woman to like a man because she doesn't. The man who flatters a woman can make her believe almost anything. The more unselfish you are the more selfish you may make others. A quick way to get - rid of your money is to run up hills and then pay them. If some men didn’t boast of their honesty the world would never know they had any. Many a man heads a long funeral procession who never had much of a following in life. The quickest way to convince a girl that you have good taste is to tell her she is good looking. A woman gets as excited over a wedding in the neighborhood as a man does over a baseball game. As soon as a girl gets married she gets busy and tries to help other girls get into the same kind of trouble. When you see a woman trying hard to look unconcerned in a street car It’s a sign that the conductor forgot to get her face.

PAVEMENT PHILOSOPHY.

Good cheer helps the job. Don’t he a freak, nor be freaked. A kind word spoken is a dark cloud broken. Most get-rich-quick schemes are get-poor-quicker. There are two ways of doing good. Use only one. Late to bed and early to rise make a slow step and hollow' eyes. Being barefooted is no excuse for not standing up in your boots. It doesn’t pay to be popular when, you have to pay so much for It Tell the -truth when you can, and when you can’t don’t tell anything. Isn’t it funny, that when a fellow is up against it he is really a long way from it? Man is known by the company he keeps; so is the average boardinghouse keeper. If there are no swear words In Esparanto how in the world can it ever become popular? A man can truthfully call his sweetheart his treasure if she brings him a fat enough dowry. *r 1 It’s a poor rule that won’t work 11 Inches off for a foot when the costomer’s hack is turned. With all this talk about there being plenty of room at the top, does anybody really know where the top is?

REFLECTIONS OF UNCLE EZRA

Our milliner is usin’ a hoSs collar for a rat at this writin’. * A vaudeville act is a good deal like a meerschaum pipe. It ain’t no good unless- it draws well. There is one thing I hate to see more than a woman splittin’ wood,, and that is a man trlmmin’ hats. It Is a wise lad who can take eight of his sister’s cookin’ school doughnuts and make a pair of roller skates out of ’em. *•! ’ # We have heerd a good deal about them Latin quarters in Paris, but there an’t any of ’em in circulation around here yet. No person can see a bald-headed galoot makln' a monkey of himvelf around a stage door without bein’ convinced that Darwin was almost light, after all. Reginald Hickey, our actor, is takin’ on flesh quite rapid, and hopes to be able to play heavy parts soon. Dp to now he has been a light comedian, weighin’ only I*3 pounds. An actress gets a chance to see a good deal of the country, and just 'now, in the musical comical shows, the country gets a chance to see a good deal of the actress.—Judge’s Library.

VERSE WORTH READING.

On the Road to Love. Have you ever tramped alone upon a misty morning In and out among the hills along the road to Love, Tip the wooded valley until sudden at a turning Sleepy Httle Hcssenford comes peeping slyly through. On the road to Lore; Out along and down along the winding road to,Love? Hessenford so cozyllke all hidden lij the hollow, ■ - And the little graveyard, oh. so quiet and so still; Where the Christ of all of us would rest a while In silence, Hire ycqj turned to breast again the road that climbs.the hill On the way to Love; ?? Out along and down along the silent road to Love. ' ''•.•wearaEßF' Loft of you the fallow fields go rolling, . gently rolling. Out to meet the kisses of the sunny, C .rolling sea:, While you watch the wonders and tha everlasting glory Of the good old Cornish land Just made for you and me. By the road to Love; Out along and down along the sleepy road to Love. a — l \~\ ■ Have you ever caught the scent of yellow gorse a-burning Drifting on the breezes as you tramped and tramped along, Heard the milky lowing of the lazy footed cattle • , " V When the trees and hedges and tha "fields are full of song; Calling you to Love; Out along and down along the sunny road to Love? Sick am I of staring at the hunger In the faces, List’nlng to tha clattes. of the city’s ceaseless din. Time It was that I was rolling up my swag and going To the warmth and welcome of that quiet little ljm On the road to Love; .Out along and down along the cheery road to Love. • —Pall- Mall Gazette.

Come!

Come to me, for the night Is growing late; Outside, the lone wind, walling, shakes the paqe, I cannot sleep, but, longing, He awake. And In the darkness softly call thy name. Let thy warm pressing fingers clasp my own; Shelter me closely 'gainst thy gentle breast; A “Good night” murmur In low, loving tone; Then I shall sweetly rest. One day thou wilt, though now we, far apart, Must tread the road of life marked out for each, Steadfast to truth to win desire of heart; Strive, learn and pray, the worthy hope to reach. But when perchance; the victory be won. And the last goal gained in the finished race. Then thou wilt come when Ufe's long journey’s done, And soul to soul, we stand as face to face! —Florence L. Lancaster, In Smart Set. i

Beyond.

Beyond the smiling and the weeping, I shall be soon; Beyond the waking and the sleeping. Beyond the sowing and the reaping, I shall be soon. Love, rest and home! Sweet home! Lord, tarry not. but come! Beyond the blooming and the fading, I shall be soon. Beyond the shining and the shading, Beyond the hoping and the dreading, - I shall be soon. , Love, rest and home! Sweet home! Lord, tarry not, but come! Beyond the parting and the meeting, I shall be soon; Beyond the farewell and the greeting. Beyond the pulse’s fiver and beating, I shall be soon. Love, rest and home! • Sweet home! Lord, tarry not, but come! —Horatlus Bona**.

The Undiscovered Country.

Forever am X conscious, moving here. That should I step a little space aside I pass the boundary of some glorified Invisible- domain—it lies so near! Yet nothing know we of that dim frontier Which each must cross, whatever fate betide, . To reach the heavenly cities where abide " t (Thus, Sorrow whispers) those that were most dear, Now all- transfigured In celestial light! Shall we indeed behold them, thine and mine, Whose going hence' made black the noonday sun? Strange Is It that across the narrow night They fling us not some token, or make sign That our beyond is Oblivion. —Thomas Balled Aldrich. . C'j:'' * *■' 'X -y' ; '

Autumn.

As imperceptible as grief The summer lapsed away. Too Imperceptible, at last. To seem like perfidy. A quietness distilled. As twilight long begun, A Or nature, spending with herself Sequestered afternoon. The dusk drew earlier In. The morning foreign shone, A courteous, yet harrowing grace,. As guest who would be gone. And thus, without a wing. Or service of a keel. Our summer made her light escape Into the beautiful. —Emil Dickinson;

Wanderers.

O clouds, ye little tender sheep. Pastured in fields of blue. While moon and stars your fold can keep And gently shepherd you Det me, too, follow In the train That flocks across the night. Or Unger* on the open plain With new-born fleeces white. O singing winds, that wander far, Tst always seem at home. And freely play ’twixt star and star Along the bending dome, I often listen to your song, yet never hear you say One word of all the happy words That stag no far away. -Made White Lowell •’ ■« ■ - -I a