St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 18, Number 44, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 20 May 1893 — Page 2
THE BELATED VIOLET. All summer loir.', upon a bare hill-side, A tiny violet plant bad tried to bb out, But Died in vain ; It seame 1 io be its doom A useless thing forever to abide. But when the parching summer heat that dried The plant’s life-blood hud gone, and in its room September's breezes freshened, t hen the womb Long closec with beauteous fruitage opened wide. When life seems vain, and when we curse our fate. Because hard labor brings ns no reward, It may be we are bring forced to wait, Un.il some kindlier iuM; a.ice breathed abroad; Shall cause our thirsty spirits to dilate Into a fuller f. 11 wsaip with God. —Hearth and Hall MILLIE’S KELATIVES. “Poor old unde, lie has dropped to sleep at last.” The speaker arrange 1 a wrap about the invalid’s shoulders with, a touch as gentle as a woman's, and the tenderne-s of a great, good heart lingered in his eyes Then with the intention of getting the “kinks out of his legs” he walked away for the purpose of tak ng a turn or two on the platform of a dingy little station at a dilapidated Western village, where tkel uLgst bound train had Stopfifed for ti me lunch, which was counter in the station.JßMMMSi^^HH The buildings WithJ^n tY>e ranue < Richard VVakemffiradi
couraged. unhappy looir^ If the effort to keep up a respectable appearance had long since been abandoned. The wild prairie winds had snatched away a shingle here, and a clapboard there, and several ot the chimneys} and fences seemed to be tottering on the verge of destruction which was certain to follow the next wind storm. That severe wind storms were common was quite evident from the fact that the debris of a recent storm was strewn throughout the village. It was also evident that the inhabitants considered it “labor lost” to gather in their belongings, since the next storm would, in all probability, send them bioad-cast again. The canine population of the place was arranged in an expectant row at the side of the track, just under the coach windows, where they had stationed themselves on the arrival of; the train, and were begging, with up- ! turned eyes, for contributions from I from Eastern bakeshops. This cir-1 cumstance led one to conclude that j these half famished creatures sub- ■ sisted mostly on the generosity of 1 travelers, a supposition which was partially verified by a crust of bread descending from one of the windows j in front of tlieiningry pack, at which ' a confused sei amble, accompanied by vicious snarlings, took place, and the largest, least miserable deg among them, captured the prize. Richard Wakeman glanced above the station house door in hopes of I being able to learn the name of the forlorn village: but the late storm had torn the board upon which the name was recorded, from its fastenings, and it nt w stool propped up against the station house, with its letters inverted. The name might j have been Hardscrabble. Young Wakeman decided that it looked as
nearly like that as anything, a:.d being a most appropriate appellation... HL.ji.il lll iiL—^pL-Jii 1 T'J ""Without further in-{ vest gat on There was a great commotion at the station. It seemed to Richard Wakeman that the ent re village must have turned out for some spe ial purpose. He was not long kept in : ignorance of its nature, for the loudvoiced conversation informed him ' that Millie Marks was taking her in- ’ valid mother to California, for the! benefit of its recurperative climate. ' “The hull passed o' relatives on both sides, hez turned out to see ’em off, ez was our duty, seein’ thet there ain’t much prospects o’ Marthy’s L livin’to get home ag'in,” one of the dutiful “relatives” was remarking in a high-pitched falsetto voi. e, that, cut the air like a knife. 4 •T t * n rIAHn ivasfa Tiv/Aiirktr T
it s a ciean waste o money, an i told Abner so, last night. 1 said, says 1, ‘this sending a half dead woman, an’a young, giddy girl off, alone is a temptin’ o' Providence, to say the very least, an’ the extrava- : ganceorit is simply dreadful.’ But i Abner slapped one o’ his high an’ ! mighty looks on to his face, an’ said •at he reckoned he could afford to give Marthy a chance for her life, at any rate, he d dn't count the cost o’it nuthdr. Marthy’s allers been a! savin’ woman, an’ I wonder that she consented to sech extravagance.” “It’s all Millie’s (loin’s.,” volun-' teered a third. “That girl has j carried things pretty much her own way since she came back from that Eastern school. I s’picioned ’twould be the ruination o’ her when they i was a-plannin’ to send her. Tney 1 f heard all I had to say on the subject, i an’then went right on just as if I 1 hadn’t spoke my mind at all. I had a 1 talk with Millie^ast night, an’ gave , c her heaps o’good advice about prop-; I
erly conductin’ of^hty^lfo-swrongst strangers, jjiiiiW . o’ money, an’ so an’ whether she takes.M, to hcari or not is neit^-jest worked | nerself Jit^th’grave, in order tosend । her away to school, an’ have big notions crammed into her head, so thet she’d Icok down on her folks an’ j relatives.” “What did she say to that?” “I can’t say ez she said much with her tongue, but her eyes was full o’ talk, an’ her face turned pink and chalky-like ali in a minute. She .<n;»ws too much fer her own good, ±i. .die does.” “I've said so-to Abner an’ Marthy time an’time agin, but I might ez i well talk to the wind for any good it does. Seems’s if some folks don’t have proper respect fer their rela- ; ■ tives. Wl.yn a body gets to be so high headea they're, sure to be took down, an’ the Markses’ll come to it. ! & you jest sec if they don’t. Millie’s j
by far too pretty to be trapisin’ off to strange lands with no one but a sick , maw to look after her. But dear suz, j we’ll have to say good-by to Marthy 1 if we’re a-goin’ to,” Before Richard had time to make , his escape, four gaunt, hard-featured women nad crowded against him in ! their efforts to enter the tourist car, upon the lower step of which he had j stationed himself, the better to see ' over the heads of “Millie’s relatives.” The movement was so sudden that he had no recourse but to enter the car in advance of them, which he did I intending to pass through it to the Pullman coach beyond, where his charge wassleeping; but when he had reached the center of the car he discovered that the objectionable rela- । tives quite blockaded the passage in either direction, and there was noth- ; ing left for h.m but to find a seat and wait their exit. As he seated himself, a stalwart man—a topical western settler—; placed a slender little woman in the compartment next to the one he had entered j “There you bo, maw, ez com I’table 1 ez if you was to home on your Lest ■leather bed,” he said, with a gigantic steady his voice. After i’ 1 or three times in is- quick succession.
i Millie’il have a reiy mtim^ ■ you’ll come home ez chirk eza cricket, er my name ain’t Abner Marks.” He tucked her shawl about her as । he spoke with awkward tenderness, and his great brown hand paused in i assing to clasp her slender one, while I his li s twitched tremulously. He ,! was rough and uncouth, this man : whose continual battle for a living had crowded all possible opportunity . for self improvement out of his narrow, oyer-burdened life: uncoth and i uncultivated but great hearted in the : extreme was Abner Marks. , ‘Tt’s costin' you a great deal, Abner,” sighed the little woman, wearily, “an’ I’m afraid »ve can't afford it. The relatives say—” “Darn the relatives' I wish the ' hull pack on ’em was in Jericho. They’ve pestered the life e’en a most : out’n you. I’ve get my opinion thet j it’s more relatives than malaria what’s I ailin’ of you.” Richard noticed that this was said i in subdued tones. “An’ as fer th’ cost, don’t you go Ito frettin’ erbout thet, an’ spile all I the good effects o’ th’ Calaforny dim-1 ate.” He continued in a much I 1 louder voice. ‘l’ve had a big streak i o’ luck lately, an’ can afford a sight j I more'n your trip’ll cost. Now say good-by to your folks while I give 1 . Millie a word o’ advice.” i He drew Millie to one side where • the little woman could not hear the I “word o’ advice” he was about to j give her, and in getting her beyond her mother’s vicinity, as well as away J from the clamorous relatives, he ! paused quite close to the solitary; young man whom fatesecmed to have destined as a receptacle tor the confl-' dences of this family. He could not have changed his position without attracting considerable attention and
o cupying much of the precious time Lneeded for the fareweils. , “Here's the purse with ev’ry dime i I could rake an’ scrape together, arter buyin’ your tickets”, he began. I “I’ll get some more to you ’fore this is gone, an’ mind you're not to s wimp ! maw ez long’s the money holds out, nor let her know thet I’m a-sellin’ th garden tools to eke out, nor thet the red heifer’s sold nor th' white horse—” “No, no, father: surely you can trust me,” interrupted Millie, earn- j cstly. “Mother shall never know, and if this trip cures her, 'we will be too happy to care for anything else. .1 mean to earn something to help along with just as soon as we get to California.” The conductor si.outed “all , aboard,” which in this case meant f/< »» f lirvn n! nr.n/1 1 . .. „, J A 1 . j 1
for those already aboard to leave the train. There was a hurried handshaking, followed by a general scram- , hie for the door, and a moment later distance bad begun to lengthen out I between brave Millie Marks and her । prairie home. Having had so much us the family history forced upon him, Richard Wakeman regarded the two women in the next compartment with more interest than he was accustomed to bestow on traveling companions. The girl’s face was completely hidden by a thick veil which she now proceeded to remove. Richard was just a trifle curious to see the face of this girl whose relatives, with the single exception of the little sick! mother, were such loud-voiced, un- • gainly creatures. He expected a slight improvement perhaps, but not much. How could she, having spent the greater part of her life among them, be other than a slightly refined copy of those terribly offensive people? L
With an upward movc-uxise at the , hand shajowavious beauty of the fair, ilower-like face looking out from its frame of soft brown hair. Every ! curve and outline of it was as deli- j cately chiseled as he could hope to behold in the lace of a queen. The year’s schooling abroad, which the relatives so emphatically disapproved, bad accomplished wonders for Millie Marks, and Richard Wakeman dimly comprehended what her later life among them must have been. “To a girl like her it must have been a night-mare of horror,” he thought, as she caressed the little mother, while the cadences of her sweet, low voice were wafted b ick to • him. “I don’t wonder that she wanted to get the mother away from them, and God helping me they shall j never go back again, but the way ; shall open up for that plebeian noble- . man to come to them.” Millie hud already spread the eve-1
ning lunch for herself and mother । when the train came to a stop at a I railway lunch station, and she was about to go in quest of a cup of coffee I for her mother when a courteous voice at her side requested the priv- i ilege of doing the errand for her " ' I “It wdl be no trouble at all,” he said, “as 1 am doing a like errand , for my invalid uncle in the next cat” I Millie blushed. She had meant/to spend but ten cents, ana the pitcher full would cost much more Ahn feared. ' I I j “You are very kind,” she slid I gratefully, handing him the disband ' a dime. “Just one cup, pieasq q do not drink coffee. Mother tikes 1 cream and sugar in hers.” T He understood, bowed gravely] anc j ' in a very short time returned with a' I brimming pitcher of delicious xiffee, j i in which the magic of money h/Bdis’. I i solved the best of sugar ahd the richest of cream. i I “They are very liberal at this station.” he remarked as he hajlded her the pitcher and hastened awf. | And from that time Richa'd Wakeman appeared regularly aterh lunch station, and purchased whaj r) they needed in the way of supplk r the lunch-basket. It was simp!} arvei- । ous to innocent, unsuspecti' lillie,
; . I how many necessities, Co ’SJy' —»g of I luxuries in the way of fru 2., -Hie 1 dimes and quarters band^'him ’ for this purpose purchased i Mi lie and her mother ; going । to San Diego, and though r tVake- ■, man had started with his He for 1 1 Los Angeles, upon he;»- their • | plans he came to a suddenlidusion I that San Diego’s equal Jimate would be more desirable rorfccure i or his uncle's complaint Ts de-; cision would have been carri®nto • effect but for the fact that J^ke- i man, Sr., Loraine so very ill tljhis nephew was obliged to stop wfthim I at San Bernardino. Relit dan? he j bade Millie and her mother goowye, I promising to come on to San ego { just as soon as “Uncle Phiavas i able to continue the journey, j I It was several weeks before jchl ard Wakeman was permitted’rob ! 1 iw Mrs. Marks and her daijt^r to San Diego, when he calkd u® them at the pretty sea-side cottaj&yliere they had found comfortable Agings. Mrs. Marks presently entjkl the room, and he scarcely recogr^i the ' bright little woman who to welcome him with such a jy Hush i on her oval face. ® “It's just like meetin’ a Ur old friend,” she exclaimed gldO “an’ Millie'll be so happy to see ja.” Millie came into the room t that moment with the happiness meeting him shining in her trutUt eyes. ' She had never appeared so ipet and altogether lovable before, ajtUchard Wakeman secretly acknowle’Jd that this girl with object ionabic latives was the fairest women he 1 ever । known. He informed them that L uncle had died at San Berne and that he was now utterljSMtii*/', world. “Wo shall be returniig ome I soon,” Millie said, with the sh<ow . of regret in her tine eyes. Moker j thinks that she has quite recoven L” i “But she will not remain wel if , she returns to that dreadful plai I Mr. Wakeman affirmed decidedly. | “I know it, and this lovely ho se : is for sale at su 'h a very low pr :c I just now,” Millie began. “If fat er could only sell the Missouri farm '.o good advantage he could make aj /- meat on this, and we could be so o happy here. But it isn’t possil •” she added, cheerfully. “M sa /I . property can't be disposed of at Gy ' price now, and we must returi in ' about three weeks.” J Mr. Wakeman said that he woild be very sorry to have them go. and after ask ng permission to call oftm while they remained, he drew Bis
visit to an abrupt conclusion. That afternoon he was closetei for some time with a lawyer in the Hty, who, as soon as the conference was ended made hasty preparations for a j journey to a certain dilapidated village in Missouri. About three weeks later, as Mrs. Marks and her daughter Millie were resting from the sorrowful task of packing their trunk preparatory to taking leave of the pretty cottake : they had learned to love so dearlh’. sitting on the rose-embowered pordh they discovered a familiar form cording rapidly towards them, and both women sprang to their feet in joyods expectancy. T I “Father!” exclaimed Millie. | “Oh, Abner!” cried the little w^man. And the next instant his great l ! strong arms were about them both" “Talk about lu’k!” he exciaif/ Cc as soon as the kissing uesprit over, ui’vo ij-rarm the 4 minute he -<uppea eyes onto it. An’ would you 5
believe it, Marthy, he offered me 81,500, hard cash, right down in my list, fer the hull turnout.” •Oh, father, cried Millie, tremulous with happiness, “this pretty cottage can be bought for that furniture and all.” “Ev’ry last one o’ the relatives on both sides called on him, an’ offered their farms fer sale,” continued Mr. Mark, nut heeding Millie’s interruption, “but he reckoned as how me Missouri farm was enough fer him, an’ I ain’t sorrv nuther, ” a sly twinkle creeping into his eyes. “Yes, Millie, girl, we'll buy this house an’ stay in this country where maw found : her party red cheeks agin.’b That all happened more than two years ago, and though Millie has been . Mrs. Wakeman for a short, joyous ’ twelve months, she has never learned , the truth concerning the sale of her , father’s undesiiable Missouri farm.— i Yankee Blade.
HOW WORK GOES ON. PROGRESS AT THE WORLD’S FAIR NOT RAPID. Exhibits for Many Departments Seem to Be In Slow Hands and Many Days Required for Complete Installation—Details of the Big Buildings. . The Week at Jackson Park. Chicago correspondence: Progress in the installation of exhibits i In most of the World’s Fair buildings is ! being made much more slowly than there was reason to expect on the open- । ing day of the Exposition. The promises . of several of the cjjlefsthat the mechan- | leal work would be completed and the ! refuse cleaned out within ten days will not be fulfilled. At ti e present gait it is doubtful if the sound of hammer and | saw shall cease to be heard within twice the piomise l ten days. This prolonged . delay can no longer be charged to the railroads; about everything which will be shown on the Exposition grounds is within reach. There are no labor troubles and no burdensome exactions from the Exposition management. Every exhibitor is free to make haste. He did hurry before the opening, but he seems to be making life as easy for himself as possible. The weather at present is most favorable for manual labor, and there are too few people in any building to cause the least interference. Some work is done at _n[ght. The chiefs of every building say they cannot get sufficient light and refuse to issue any peremptory orders for night work. The exhibitors will not incur the additional expense of overtime labor bills until they are compelled to. In Manufactures Building Great Britain is tn most presentable shape. This is accounted for, in part, by the fact that she built no elaborate pavilion or facade, j as Germany and France are doing. As I in the American section, each exhibitor j has acted independent of all others. : But, unlike the American, the British exhibitor constructed his pavilion or booth at home, and it came along with ! the exhibit. On arrival there was nothing more to do than put it together and arrange the goods within it. This uas been quickly done, and the visitor may
KI Jill I L ts St WPVSi VIEW FKOH THE Wf^T GALLERY OF JIAMTACTI RES BLILDING.
I Walkthrough the British section and I see as much now as he ever will here of i the products of the three isles over the I sea. The Can rdiaa Dlsplav. Canada was induced by Chief Allison ; I to inclose her space, whL h appr pri- j ; ately adjoins that of the mother coun- ; try, and there is no mistaking her typ- ! ical facade on Columb a avenue. M ithin there is a display of manufactured , articles, but the American idea that ; quantity is more impressive that quality | I apparently prevailed. France moved I ! go Slowij- with her staff ornamentation : ! as almost to seem not to move at all. j i French exhibitors have tired of waiting ' for the completion of the ornamental ( i work and are installing their wares in the rear of it. But they find it neees-
I eary at once tg surround their booths I with canvas to keep out the staff dust, : and visitors get little benefit from them, ! to say nothing of the fact that they are almost inaccessible. These gcods are of the choicest kind, and pe- \ \ \ ■ \.W * 1 1 ~~ 'li Sv Pa 1 /1Z ioWER OF ORANGS. HORTrCLXIc^’ 1 Jv . v ‘-UTLRAE BTILD- >
cf-'arly ^tt^twT 77 ~ — because o f their n , Amen can3 leice. The exhiEL arctic excelonly by sample, or* with the? 88 to SeH thit the goods cannot reservat b’n aft?r the close of the Er™ e < oved until rule of the the ® i <h.lr booth.
thanhefetXTe* VveXTw Austi° n a 2v coveted their^r!?
except unopened boxes and mlscella- I neous debris—not including Japan in ! this category, which is more than half ready. Educational Exhibit Advanced. The educational exhibit is well advanced, and some things in it will bear close inspection. This is especially true of that of Bratt Institute, of Brooklyn. This is an industrial school, and the specimens of werk in all the practical arts are excellent. They show I portal TO BELGIUM’S EXHIBIT. what a pupil in school can be tauaht to do in architecture, building, plumbing, iron work, millinery, dressmaking, etc. The exhibit is presented with good taste. The Chicago eelueational exhibit, if present at all, has hidden its light under a bushel; no ono has-been able to find it. Leaving the sections of the gallery assigned to Great Britain, France, Germany, and,Austria, there' is much vacant space to fill, although it is said to have all been assigned. I In Mines and Mining Building New
South Wales presents an exhibit the most nearly complete of those from foreign countries. Germany and Austria are getting into shape slowly, excepting the great display of the former near the center of the building. Quebec is i hidden away behind Cntario with a dis- ! play of minerals, principally phosphates i and mica. British Columbia, adjoining, j strikes the visitor with amazement by ' an exhibition of what appears to be a pyramid of gold ingots, some ten feet | high and live or six feet square jat the base. On closer examination I the blocks prove to be cheaper than i dross, for they are nothing but bronzed plaster. The pile is supposed to give a corn; rehensive idea of the provi Ince’s production of gold, as the bars ; represent in bulk the amount of refined
■ gold sent to market since the mines have been systematically worked The : compound value is Ss*2,i 0',(00. England shows a good deal of coal, one piece weighing fourteen tons having been installed. South Africa has a large space inclosed and a model of a mill set up, but no exhibits opened. Mexico I is inclosing the largest individual space i in the building, and has her cases ready jto be filled with minerals. Chili is i already prepared to give a goo 1 idea of i the nitrate industry. She boasts of the I fact that 1,050,119 tons of this mineral were exported in 1890. Samples of crude nitrate and as prepared for a fertilizer are in place. In the agricultural building M isccnsin is ready to entertain visitors and lowa nearly so. The incomplete exhibits at the end of next week in this
building will be the exception and not the rule, as k?. some others, if work proceeds as rapidly next week as it has this. It is already second in popularity tn Mprmfantnrers building, apparentiy: I turning a thousand whe“e^ ^ 18 of early completeness an alr building. Jn soite oOhn P^^es the ! line tha^ponSeX Prospect of a finishe - IS a many dave rm.,*..- J exhibit beiore
reach a specified be able space of time buf 0 !^ - n a Very s bort whl hlt operitM is ’ J"I'"': parison. Apparent v n b 1 eon> building will ' r Electricity visitors laßt on the Hst for the
1 surprise^buV baS no new sonic dopkrtmonts ^ nousl 7 R 'ow in itibit is about es ' order. “uipleto and of a high I ncle Sam don’t let .
on him but his own fainur 7 imP ° SG right out TY ‘2 ,en a <»
| Brightest Tart of My Tup. j A New York fashion correspondent of a Southern paper gives out the follow - ing: A lady writes: “I have read your letters for a long time, and have often envied you the opportunity you enjoy of seeing the beautiful things you describe. I used to think when I read of those charming dresses and parasols and hats at Lord & Taylor’s, that theirs must be . one of those stores where a timid, nerv- | ous woman like myself, having but a ; few dollars to spare for a season's outfit, would be of so little account that she would receive little attention; but when you said, in one of your letters a few months ago, that goods of the same — quality were really cheaper there than elsewhere, because they sold more goods intheir two stores than any other firm in New York, and that because they sold more they bought more, and consequently bought cheaper, I etermined, if I ever went to New York, I would go to Lord & Taylor’s. I “That long-waited-for tin j came in | the early autumn, and I found myself ‘ standing before that great entrance, with those wonderful windows at either side. I summoned my courage and entered, as I suppose tens of thousands of just such timid women as I have done before. My fears were gone in an instant The agreeable attention put me at my ease at once, and I felt as much at home as though I were in the little country store where my people have ‘traded’ for nearly a quarter of a century. “ AndjUow, as I wear the pretty thingg I purchased, find them all my visit to this greoaSani %ioa Ol <dd) brightest part of my trluoeSmi sEUJoqi) Bin» — mn '6-poued prim Strange Savings , (dd) Mj ei (jaiunH When the lock was take!) 8 9W9 ‘uoiSuhisbm of the old Episcopal ChurchtnaJßOoiD) Ga., which has just b-en pullemj s , B ^ uoSewr it was found to contain a silver,® made in 1831 1 . It is supposed the dim<j 0 ^ has been in the lock for many years,soardA}) and a key was once broken in the lock oaas on account of the dime closing its m nos passage. Prevent and cure Constipation and SickHead ache, Small Bile Beans. * To be young is surely the best, if the ( most precarious, gift of life.—Lowell.
The Testimonials We publish are not purchased, nor are they written up in our office, nor are they iron our employes. They are facts. Droving that Hood’s Sarsaparilla possesses absolute Merit, and that Hood’s Cures Jfrg. E. As. Burt > wVqf _Kendall, Three Great Enemu» Neuralgia, Rheumatism and Dyspepsia Another Victory for Hood's. “For over twenty years I have suffered with neuralgia, rheumatism and dyspepsia. Many times I cotlld not turn in bed. Several physicians have treated me and I have tried different r> medies, but all failed to give me permanent relief. Five years ago I began to take Hood’s Hood s Cures Sarsaparilla, and it has done me a vast amount of good. Since beginning to take it I have not had a sick day. 1 am 72 years old and enjoy good'heal th, which I attribute to Hood's Sarsaparilla.” Mbs. E. M. Burt, W. Kendall, N.Y. HOOd’ SP i! IS cure all liver ills, biliousness, jaundice, indigestion, sick headache. 25c
KNOWLEDGE
Brings comfort and improvement and tends to personal' enjoyment when rightly used. The many, who live bet±z2Jth.i.n.others and enjoyjife more, with Its excellence
, iu the form mostVeceVS-dl ^T n , (iD 2 : ant to the taste the X V d , pleas - beneavhl ative ; effeetmilly cleansing h x illSs profession, becaiw it acte every objectionable sLS ““ package al«o the r b °n every Ind Kgs;
<25 COSgS 25*1 - raf|SinLOHS[l Throat. sX*by a*!?D™ ° nSfa3 ’ Cron P, Sore g’ra Side. lack a Guaranty? wifi give’ Sh »oh’s Por^B * * sittiitac 00X4—2 5 eccti.
