The Lampasas Daily Leader. (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 3, No. 854, Ed. 1 Friday, December 7, 1906 Page: 3 of 4
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LUNDQUIST 1
NO NEED TO PAY TOLL.
L—
£y NORMAN H. CROWELL
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It was evening on the Dakota prai- I cious sound, paused in his translation
rie. Before the door of his sod shanty
a young man whose flaxen hair pro-
claimed his Scandinavian lineage
stood, engaged in the engrossing duty
of feeding his shepherd dog. As he
tossed the crumbs the dog would leap
nimbly upward and catch them neatly
as they descended.
“Ah, Jim,” he ejaculated, presently,
“a week—maybe two week and she
ban here!”
He gazed straight at the dying sun
and murmured the word “Hilda” in a
subdued voice. Then he walked to a
bench beside the door and sat down,
folding his strong young arms across
his breast, while the dog crept up
and buried his nose in his master’s
lap.
It had been a year of reverses with
Lundquist. He had labored hard—no
man could put more honest toil into
the struggle with a penurious soil
than he—and it seemed now as if all
was for naught. Beginning with a
wet, disheartening spring, the season
had crept on, piling up against him its
mute but potent protests in a manner
that had discouraged many a less
hardy man. His best horse, becoming
entangled in the only wire fence
within 20 miles, had been sacrificed
to the casualty list of a frontiers-
man’s life. By mortgaging his crop
he had secured another.
He was now facing his annual inter-
est payment, while the storekeeper in
the town a dozen miles away was
growing suspicious and was demand-
ing payment of an open account. His
crops—only puny stacks of discolored
wheat straw standing limply awaiting
the threshing.
But Lundquist was forgetting all
this as he sat on the bench before his
abode. Hilda was coming to him.
Hilda, from far-off Norway. Six years
it had been since he had gazed into
her eyes—six years since he had
stolen aside in the crush at the em-
barking and kissed her many times on
her willing lips. The thought of it
brought a smile to Lundquist’s sun-
tanned visage. The dog saw it and
wagged his tail in recognition of his
master’s mood.
Two years ago she would have
come, but he set his teeth firmly and
sent her that letter which had wrung
his heart. “Wait!” he had told her.
Wait till Fortune smiles more bright-
ly on these bleak Dakota prai rites! It
was a bitter thing to do, but Lund-
quist saw no other course.
Only last year she was prevented
from coming by the sickness of her
■mother. Nothing, not even poor
crops, now stood in the way of her
coming, and she was now in mid-
ocean on the steamer that was bear-
ing her westward—to Carl.
In a little box under his bunk he
had every letter that Hilda had writ-
ten him. They were good reading
•during the long winter’s evenings.
The steamer agent had said that
she should reach Quebec on the 14th.
It was now the 9 th.
On the 16th Lundquist went to
town. He walked up and down the
single street, keeping close watch on
the depot until the afternoon train
•had passed. He rode the 12 miles
home in moody ailence.
The following day he went to town
again and in the evening, when he
went back toward home, his face was
haggard and wan from his day’s vigil.
He was getting warned. What could
be keeping Hilda? Had something
gone wrong.? Lundquist slept little
that night.
Old Jim, for the first time in
months, barked piteously and his
master, starting guiltily, made haste
to throw some bread to the animal.
“Pore Jim!” said he, “Ay fo get
yo’, eh?” .
Lundquist essayed a laugh, but it
died away hollowly.
The next day he had stalked by the
post office five times in sulky silence
when he heard some one call his
name. He paused and entered.
Banks, the postmaster, had a letter
in his hand.
“Letter for you, Carl!” he said.
’"Came this morning!”
Lundquist took it in his hand and
edged away to a corner of the little
office. It was a queer letter—all in
print, like a newspaper. Lundquist
bent over it and wrinkled his brow.
“Read it for you?” suggested the
postmaster, expectantly.
“Ja! Yo read' hem,” assented
Lundquist, perplexedly.
The letter was a cruel stab to the
eager listener. Hilda was detained in
Quebec. The medical authorities had
examined her and found, her suffering
,with an affliction of the1 eyes that
would prohibit her ' entry unless
speedily; cured. To do this a suffi-
cient amount of money must be ad-
vanced by Lundquist to insure pay-
ment of the medical expense incident
to the treatment.
The postmaster, hearing a suspi-
and glanced up. The listener was
staring at him wide-eyed, his whole
soul pouring out through his blue
orbs. It confused him and he crum-
pled the paper nervously. Lundquist
brought himself together with a jerk.
" “How much money hem say?”
“A hundred dollars!” was the post-
master’s response.
“Von hunderd dollars!” repeated
the stricken youth, “Von hunderd—”
He reached out and took the sheet
from Bank’s fingers and placed it in
his pocket. Then he went out, old
Jim close at his heels, with his tail
down dejectedly.
An hour later the two emerged
from the door of the bank. Aimlessly
they strolled along the dismal street
until they came to where the team
was tied. A mile out on the open
prairie tfye youth turned in his seat
and shook his clenched fist at the
receding town. Once he glanced up-
ward—then settled firmly in a
straight stare ahead, and so remained
till the cabin was reached.
That night he did not go to bed.
He sat and walked and babbled to the
dog till daybreak. In the morning
he eyed the rising sun with bloodshot
eyes. His body quivered with the
protests of abused nerves and his
cheeks were sunken from lack of
nourishment.
“Von hunderd dollars!” he said,
bitterly.
That day he visited the bank three
different times. The last time he
stood in the doorway and told the
banker a few of the hot things that
rankled in his brain. Old Jim stood
aside and snarled.
He visited the store and asked for
food. When the storekeeper suggest-
ed pay, he cursed beneath his breath
and left the place. He went to the
post office with a letter he had writ-
ten to Hilda—a letter filled wfth
scalding tears and heart burnings.
The postmaster spoke to him, asking
if he was sending the money on to
the girl. Lundquist clenched his
teeth tightly and rushed out to con-
ceal the tears that stole unrepressed
down his cheeks.
Two days later a letter came. It
was cold and formal. Hilda had re-
turned to Norway. Lundquist stum-
bled awkwardly when Banks read the
letter and thrust his elbow through a
pane of glass. Banks, glancing up,
made light of the accident.
“Don’t worry about that, Carl!” he
remarked, “I’ll fix that.”
“Ay get yo glass!” said Lundquist,
hoarsely, as he went out.
At the hardware store he brought
forth his paltry store of silver—four
dollars in all. The glass took one of
these. Inside the case something
caught his eye—something shiny and
cold. He inquired its price.
“Two-fifty,” said the man, “and it’s
a 38!”
Lundquist slid the money hesitat-
ingly across the glass counter and
took the object gingerly in his hand.
Flushed and trembling, he started for
the door.
“Wait! You want—you’ll need
some of these!” called the proprietor
as he slid out some little boxes.
“Ja! Von box!” said Lundquist
It was late that night when the two
reached the lone cabin on the prai-
rie. The dog sat on the floor before
his master and licked his lips ex-
pectantly, but his master heeded him
not—he was reading, reading, read-
ing Hilda’s letters.
Two weeks later the newspaper at
the county seat printed the following:
“A party of sportsmen made a
gruesome find in a sod shanty 12
miles north of E— last week. At-
tracted by the mournful howling of
a shepherd dog they drew up and
entered. The body of a young Scan-
dinavian lay upon the earth floor
with a bullet wound in his forehead.
Numerous letters scattered about
create the impression that he com-
mitted the deed in a fit of homesick-
ness or despondency. The dog re-
fused to leave the spot, although
wasted to a skeleton by hunger and
exposure.”
(Copyright, 1906', by Daily Story Pub. Co.)
Ramshackle Rig Would Not Fit Any
Description.
In the days of toll bridges the keep-
er of one over one of the western Mas-
sachusetts rivers was a rather spry
old character named Abercrombie. II
is said that one day an outfit of the
most ramshackle appearance drove uf
to the gate—horse a mere traveling
bone-yard, harness held together with
iOl
AFTER THE HARVEST
TAKING STOCK OF THE GAR-
NERED SEEDS.
Happy Are They Who Can Say They
Have Lived Up to the Promises
of the Springtime—Some
Household Lore.
VanwA
] A
i\l
“Drive on, drat you! drive on.”
various bits of rope and string, and
numerous deficiencies in the wagon
made good evidently by any old bit oi
wood that could be utilized.
The driver, corresponding to this
outfit in point of general dilapidation,
stood with mouth agape conning the
schedule Of rates, when old Abercrom-
bie stepped out of his little house and
said: “Drive on, drat you! Drive on!
There’s nothin’ tbar answers to youi
description.”
RAMSHACKLE OLD DOVE-COT.
Building Dating From 1307 Still i»
Good State of Preservation.
The “Dove-cot” at Hurley, near Mar-
low, Bucks, England, is an ancienl
and picturesque building, dating from
the year 1307. The picture shows the
interior. The jambs and lintel of the
pigeon-house doorway are of more
modern date than the walls. On the
front of the lintel the date 1642 witb
C. R. to follow is distinctly marked.
It was used by the old monks for the
Abreast of the Times.
“How is you son getting along?”
me ;asked the old acquaintance.
“First rate. Making money hand'
over fist.”
“Thai’s good. Let’s see; he gradu-
ated as a veterinary surgeon, didn’t
he?”
“Yes; but after he tried to. practice
for a while he changed to an automo'
bile-repairer.”-—Judge. . ; b
L1 ' ‘ " . . . •" ' ;
Absentmindecl.
Tony—I’m against keeping the lid
on.
Jones—Why?
Tony—I kept mine on when Miss
Sweet passed me the other day. and
now she won’t speak to me.-—Detroit
Free Press.
WAYS OF PREPARING CELERY.
purpose of breeding pigeons, and the
countless niches or nests of chalk (ol
which material the walls are made)
are very remarkable.
The ladder shown is fixed to a cen-
tral beam, and when inspecting the
nests it is only necessary, when stand-
ing on the ladder, to push against the
wall and the whole affair moves round.
It is still the home of a very consid
-erable number of pigeons.
There is a sadness connected with
the fall of the leaves and the closing
months of the year which we have
all recognized. With the spring, hope
awakens in the heart and “all things
seem possible,” but with the ending
of hai’vest we realize how much we
have left undone, how carelessly we
have sown, how neglectful we have
been in cultivating the tender graces
that make life worth the living. We
all mean so well. We want to walk
uprightly, to be kindly affectioned
one to another, sweet and unselfish in
our family life, and faithful to every
duty set before us; but when we be-
gin to take account of harvest we
realize how far short we have come of
what we intended in the springtime.
But let us not be discouraged, how-
ever. From the realization of failures
past, let us take fresh courage for the
future.
“If any watchful thought of ours
Can make some work the stronger,
If any cheery smile of ours
Can make its brightness longer.
Oh, let us speak that, thought to-day,
With tender eyes a-glowing,
So God may grant some weary one
Shall reap from our glad sowing.”
It is a singular thing that in the
great hospitals and training schools
for nurses, where everything is sup-
posed to be done in the most advanced
hygienic way, a requirement in the
nurses’ ward is that their beds be
made for the day within a half hour
after the time of rising.
This allows for no airing whatever,
save the very few minutes while the
nurse is dressing. The same provis-
ion holds in the general wards, where
the patients are able to be up during
the day. As soon as the patient rises
the bed is made so that the ward may
look tidy. Sanitary cleanliness in
this case is sacrificed to appearance—
a great mistake, as every good house-
wife knows. There is nothing more
restful than a well-aired bed. It is
not sufficient to throw back the covers
from the foot, for a make-believe air-
ing. They should all be taken off
separately, spread over the chairs
near the opened Avindows, then the
mattresses turned and the pillows
shaken and put to air. Every child,
boy as well as girl, should be taught
to do this; yet in how many families
do children, and old folk, too, craAvl
out of their beds and leave their
rooms Avithout even so much as open-
ing the Avindows.
Every few years even the best of
mattresses should be pulled apart
and made over by an expert workman,
then covered Avith fresh ticking. As
for the pillows, they may be made over
at home, if one has a closed room in
which to work. Empty the feathers
into clean sheets, tie up and take out
into the sunshine, laying them on
boards or a table Avhere the air can
get to them. Beat with a light stick
or rug beater, and turn often. Mean-
time wash the cases or make new, as
required. After a few days in the
crisp air and bright sun, the feathers
should be elastic like new. Then re-
turn to the cases. Old feathers, when
well kept, are far better than the
freshly plucked ones, unless they are
perfectly cured. When carelessly at-
tended to the quills contain some ani-
mal matter that is apt to breed ver-
min.
Male Into Curry or for Use as a
Breakfast Dish.
Celery is an excellent vegetable for
nervous people to eat. It can be
served in many Avays besides the
plain steAved celery familiar to most
people.
Curry of Celery—Cook until ten-
der, tAA'o cupfuls of chopped celery,
using stock for the purpose if it is
at hand; drain the celery, reserving
the stock. Cook one teaspoonful of
onion in a little butter, being careful
not to let it burn, then thicken the
stock with flour, rubbed very smoootli
in butter and mixed with two table-
spoonfuls of curry powder. Stir till
smooth, and until the stock is slightly
thickened, and then add the celery,
the cooked onion, and one tablespoon-
ful of lemon juice; let the whole boil
up together, then draw to the back
of the range till ready to serve.
Serve the curry with plain boiled rice.
As a Breakfast Dish:—Take four
fresh eggs, four tablespoonfuls of
chopped celery, one spoonful of butter
and salt and pepper to season. Cook
the celery over a sIoav fire in boiling
water for fifteen minutes, then drain;
put the butter into a saucepan, and
when it is melted add the tender cel-
ery; when thoroughly heated, taking
care that the butter does not burn,
turn in the eggs and keep stirring
with a silver spoon until they are
firm; season and turn out into a hot
dish, serving Avith squares of buttered
toast.
SEVERAL USES FOR SALT.
Of More Value Than Merely to Serve
as a Condiment.
Here are several uses for salt: Put
a pinch in the eggs you are 'beating,
and they will be light in a much
shorter time.
Sprinkle it on the fire and you Avill
gain the blue flame so much desired
for broiling steaks or chops.
Sprinkle it in the bottom of the
oven and your cakes will not burn.
Pour it quickly on spilled claret or
ink, and it will absorb most or all
of the liquid before it has time to
stain.
Salt makes an excellent toothpow-
der, but it is not advisable to use it
daily, as it will spoil the enamel if
used too frequently. Still, an occa-
sional brushing with it is recom-
mended.
Sprinkle it on the coals and bhake
your damp, uncurled ostrich feathers
over the fumes, and the tendrils will
curl up smartly.
Bathe your tired eyes in salt and
water and you will be astonished at
the strength it gives them.
A pinch of salt improves cakes,
candies, and almost everything that
is cooked.
■SOME THINGS NATURE MAKES.
The Mark of the Strong.
The tendency to persevere, to per-
sist in spite,, of hindrance, discour-
agements and impossibilities—it is
this that in all things distinguishes
the strong soul from the Aveak.—
Thomas Carlyle.
'Wooden Bowls and Glass Pipes, Cloth,
Ropes and Laces.
Nature is something of a manufac-
turer herself.
In the case of a certain cactus mar
velous natural pottery is produced
Woodpeckers excavate nests in the
trunk :and branches, and to. protect it-
self the plant exudes a sticky juice,
which hardens, forming a woody lin-
ing to the hales made by the birds
Eventually the cactus dies aijd with
icrs^away, "but the wooden bowls re-
main.
As a weaver nature ajso produces
fine work. , Certain tree barks and
leaves furnish excellent cloth, as, for
instance, the famous tapa .cloth, used
in the South Sea ’islands.
Nature is a glassmaker, too,-accord-
ing to the’! Indian Review. By dis-
charging her lightning into bods of
quartz sand she forms exquisite little
pipes of glass.
She makes valuable ropes of vari-
ous kinds in the shape of tropical
vines and creepers, and she is even a
lace maker, as witness the lace trees
of the West Indies.
A Matter of Spelling.
A trolley collided with a milk
wagon and sent the milk splashing on
the pavement. Soon a crowd gath
ered. “Goodness!” exclaimed a man.
“What an awful waste!” A very
stout lady turned and glared at him.
“Just mind your own business,” she
snapped.—Lippincotts.
People Without Ideas of Art.
The Kibalans, natives of Formosa,
are probably the only race in the
world to whom drawings or pictures
convey no idea Avhatsoever.
Care of Chamois.
To keep chamois leather in good
condition it must be kept clean. When,
soiled, take three pints of tepid rain-
water and add- four tablespoonfuls of
ammonia. Leave the leather in this
for an hour, then work it well with
a wooden spoon, pressing ont as much
as possible. When nearly clean, rinse
into another pan with tepid rain water
and rub well Avith the hands until
clean. Repeat the process in sev-
eral waters until all the dirt is re-
moved. Hang in the shade to dry,
and rub between the hands until the
leather is perfectly soft.
White Christening Cake.
Cream together two cups butter
and four cups sugar. Add two cups
sweet milk and eight cups flour, sifted
three times, with two small teaspoon-
fuls soda, and four teaspoonfuls cream
of tartar. Beat well, then at the last
fold in the stiffly Avhipped whites of a
dozen eggs. Flavor with almonds or
rose and bake slowly in a steady,
moderate oven. This cake keeps well
and remains moist aud delicate to the
end. The recipe may be halved if ao
large a cake is not required
Hardly Corroborative .Detail.
“That conceited young jackanapes
acts as though he were , tlie big gun
of the establishment. Has he any-
thing to make him think so?” Only
the fact that he’s going to be fired.”-*
Baltimore American.
one’s
1599.
“A Feather in One’s Cap.”
Our expression, “A feather in
cap,” originated in Hungary in
At that time it was an ancient custom
among the Hungarians, .tba**=-ne one
was permitted ito wear a fehTKer in his
hat unless he had killed a Turk. It
was a law that for each slain Turk the
slayer should be allowed to wear one
feather.—The Sunday Magazine.
Worry of Little Things.
The little things of life are what
cause us the most trouble. It is easier
to dodge an elephant than, a microbe.
Change in Authors’ Positions.
It is pleasant to read of all these
contemporary authors, with their
sumptuous royalties and theiif success-
ful investments in mines. Grub street
is no longer for them. Their lines are
cast on Easy street.
cob
Warning
The maximum amount of alcohol,
says Parkes, that a man can . take
daily AVithout inihealth is
that contained "“'in * tAvo ounces of
brandy, one-half pint of sherry, one-
lialf pint of claret and one pint of.
beer.
Longest Span of Wire.
The longest span of wire^ in the-
world is used for a telegraph in In-
dia .over the river Ristuali. It- is.
more than 6,000 feet, and is stretched,
between two hills, 1,200 feet high,
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Vernor, J. E. The Lampasas Daily Leader. (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 3, No. 854, Ed. 1 Friday, December 7, 1906, newspaper, December 7, 1906; Lampasas, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth897925/m1/3/: accessed July 7, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Lampasas Public Library.