The Lampasas Daily Leader. (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 13, No. 202, Ed. 1 Friday, October 27, 1916 Page: 2 of 4
This newspaper is part of the collection entitled: Lampasas Area Newspaper Collection and was provided to The Portal to Texas History by the Lampasas Public Library.
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THE LAMPASAS DAILY LEADER
i We Money
1 Speedway I
s
GEORGE ELMER COBB
(Copyright, 1916, by W. G. Chapman,)
“Don’t disturb the waiter, Nixon.
Here’s the gas convenient,” and Dale
Newman leaned towards the jet blaz-
ing over his head and deliberately lit
five-dollar bill to start his cigar.
Walter Nixon was too well-bred to
,express the startled wonder he ex-
perienced. He was awed and his face
showed it. Within the hour, ever
since he had joined his friend it had
been one grand round of expense—an
automobile drive to save walking a
block, fifty-cent cigars, an eight-dol-
lar dinner and princely tips all along
the line.
“If the lake wasn’t so choppy I
.would take you out in my yacht,” ob-
served Newman grandly, and Walter
was more impressed than ever with
the greatness of this Croesus, devel-
oped from a poor, idle country boy.
all within two years’ space of time.
“Glad you looked me up,” said New-
man, as they arose to leave the cafe.
“Won’t stay at my apartments for the
night? Got to catch the train? Sorry,
but arrange to come up to the city
later and put in a couple of weeks
with me, will you?”
“I’ll be glad to," voiced Walter, but
the tones were not genuine. The vast
contrast between their positions
pained Walter, for he was proud and
ambitious. Despite himself, all the
way homeward bound on the train he
could not help but envy this fortunate
friend. It was only when he came
“Going West,” Explained Newman.
within the peaceful circle of home,
humble but full of comfort and love,
that he censured himself for allowing
covetousness to disturb the usual
serenity of his mind.
And then Violet Moore, to whom he
tvas engaged. Gold and luxury were
•- as dross compared to her, and in their
next happy stroll he confessed the
pangs he had experienced at compar-
ing his narrow plodding life with the
gay butterfly existence in the magic
city.
Amid the preparations for their wed-
ding Violet and Walter would have for-
gotten Newinan. so happy were they,
■but for Madge Wilder. She was the
'chosen friend of Violet. When Dale
iNewman left P.ayfield he was all but
:engaged to Madge. She had every
right to believe that their first corre-
spondence would continue. It did not.
Amid the glare and glitter of the city
iNewman apparently had forgotten all
labout his village love.
“He did not even ask about her,”
(Walter told Violet.
“Then he has cast away a rare
(jewel,” spoke Violet. “When I see
Madge’s sad, patient face ray only
consolation is that he was never wor-
thy of her.”
They sent an invitation to the wed-
ding to Newman. Awaiting Its ac-
knowledgment Madge was in a rare
flutter. In the long past she and
Newman had spoken of “standing up”
with their two friends. A splendid
set of silver duly arrived, and regrets.
“Too busy making money to spare
us a few hours,” remarked Walter,
and the last fond hope of Madge was
extinguished.
The wedding took place and Walter
and his wife settled down in a pretty
;cozy home, at which Madge was a
welcome visitor. Walter never thought
of his old city ambitions now. Life
seemed to have brought him its full
meed. He had a pleasant working
position, many loyal friends and the
home .cot was a veritable haven of
peace.
Walter was coming home just aftei
dusk one Saturday evening when
someone, a satchel In hand, stepped
from behind a tree, confronting him.
“Why, Newman!” exclaimed Wal-
ter, truly surprised to recognize his
long absent friend. He scanned New-
man curiously, for the latter seemed
nervous, anxious, ill at ease.
“Going West,” explained Newman,
“and thought I’d give you a call. I’n»
taking the midnight train.”
“Come right up to the house,” in-
vited Walter spontaneously. “Violet
will be as glad as I am to see you.
Why, I declare I it makes me happy
to see you again, old chum.”
“Can’t stay but an hour or so,” de-
clared Newman. “This your place?
It’s a gem. Say, Nixon, I just want
to sit down on this garden seat and
drink in this delightful air and the
pretty scene. Why, it’s like a glimpse
of paradise, after that sweltering, de-
vouring gambling exchange in the
city.”
Walter noticed that Newman kept
the satchel close beside him, and, too,
a hunted, uneasy look constantly trav-
ersed his face. He suggested a per-
son under some vast strain of dread
or suspense.
Then gradually a more restful relief
was manifest in the troubled eyes.
Newman started up as a light was
turned on In the little parlor of the
house, the open windows of which con-
fronted him. Walter caught the echo
of a quick sharp gasp. Well he might I
Mrs. Nixon had entered the room and
with her was Madge.
Walter did not speak a word or
make a move to disturb Newman. He
watched him mutely. He could dis-
cern that some great impression was
being made on the city hardened specu-
lator by the homelike picture before
him.
It was indeed a fair scene, an ap-
pealing one to Newman. Violet bad
gone to the piano. She was playing a
pretty sentimental strain. Madge sat
listening intently, her eyes fixed on
vacancy, her beautiful soul expressed
in her lovely face. Never had Walter
seen her look more attractive. The
man beside him must have shared the
conception, for abruptly he arose to
bis feet. He uttered almost a savage
groan, like a being in pain, yet Walter
caught the gleam of tears in his eyes.
“What I have missed!” he muttered
bitterly, and then, “but too late
now!”
This man was deeply affected. Wal-
ter, who comprehended the full situa-
tion, half whispered in the ear of his
companion.
“The love of a woman like Madge
never changes.”
“You don’t know that!” cried New-
man sharply.
“Yes, I do,” asserted Walter, and
his hand rested lightly on the arm of
Newman. “Old friend, stay with us a
week, a month, and get back some of
the old-time contentment and peace.”
“If I thought I would be welcome—:
“By loyal loving hearts, and one in
particular,” pledged Walter earnestly.
“Don’t cast aside the sure anchor of
fidelity and happiness.”
“I’ll be back, I’ll be back here Mon-
day,” faltered Newman, and he was
like a man groping as he started for
the street. “No, I couldn’t stay just
now. Leave me to myself, Nixon. I’m
fighting the crisis of my life.”
He was true to his word. Walter
tried to figure out what evolution this
man’s mind was undergoing, for when
Newman reappeared Monday evening
the flash of diamonds was absent, his
attire was more in keeping with that
of commonplace people, his, manner
was subdued, or, rather, tranquil.
“I’m coming back to stay,” he told
Nixon two days later, and Madge,
happy Madge was at his side as he
told it. “I’m through with the city,
and when you have time, Nixon, my
fiancee and I want te look over the
plans of that neat little bungalow of
yours.”
“It’s come out all right I” jubilated
Violet that evening. “Mr. Newman has
made his peace with Madge and her
heart is just singing with delight all
of the time.”
“Nixon,” said Newman somewhat
later, “this is between you and me—
the others must never know. Ydu fre-
member the night I came down here
to go West?”
Walter nodded to his friend.
“In that satchel I carried there was
nearly one hundred thousand dollars
of other people’s money. I was go-
ing to leave the country with it. The
sight of your happiness, of Madge
turned the tide. I haven’t got much
left, but 1 put baefc the money, paid
my debts and I’m through with the
city. Oh, friends and Madge are worth
it all, ten times over!”
Sarcastic Caddie.
A beginner on a brand-new golf
course was having a particularly try-
ing experience on a holo laid across a
well-meaning but exasperatfng plowed
field. When he did not miss tho ball
he hit the ground behind It. His cad-
die, summing up the positioh with
cold, professional eye, remarked to his
companion: “My word! It wouldn’t
cost him much if he was playin’ with,
new-laid eggs!”
11
■r
TML MXDCES3L 3T 3HJR-DAR, SAMARKAND
A T LAST I have discovered a
- f\ country where the war is al-
\ most unknown, where normal
* conditions reign, and where
life is going on just as it has for the
last 2,000 years, unmoved by what is
passing over it, writes Montgomery
Schuyler to the New York Times.
Not easy of access to foreigners at any
time, Russian Turkestan, since the be-
ginning of the war, has been a terra
incognita to the traveler, and so far as
I am aware I was the first to visit it
since that time. The country is always
under military rule and since its an-
nexation by the Russian empire has
been administered as a military ter-
ritory by the war office. Through the
necessary official channels I obtained
permission to visit Turkestan, accom-
panied by my wife, and started off
from Petrograd in the middle of a
snowstorm with intense cold and every
evidence of midwinter.
We arrived after some five and a
half days’ steady traveling at Tash-
kent, the administrative capital of Rus-
sian Turkestan.
This is a new city built by the Rus-
sians after the occupation of the neigh-
boring districts between 1865 and 1868.
It is laid out in the manner of all new
Russian places, with wide boulevards
radiating from a center as planned and
running straight out into the country
through fields and swamps, looking
confidently to the future for the growth
and population to come, for In the Rus-
sian empire, as nowhere else, the peo-
ple follow the flag, and, indeed, some-
times precede it in this part of the
world.
Tashkent is obviously and unmistak-
ably a city of the future, and allow-
ance must be made for its present
straggling character. There are, how-
ever, many handsome administrative
buildings and military and educational
establishments.
Beautiful in Early Spring.
Turkestan is now reached from Pe-
trograd and Moscow by railway via
Orenburg to Tashkent, or across the
Caspian by steamer, a sea trip of only
about 36 hours from Baku to Krasno-
vodsk. The most interesting way to
go is as we did, out by Tashkent and
back through Krasnovodsk and Baku.
At Tashkent I was joined by a Rus-
sian officer, who had been detailed to
accompany me on my travels in Turke-
stan, and who proved to be not only
*i charming companion, but of great
help in arranging the details of the
journey and in getting the necessary
transportation and accommodations.
We had already begun to feel the
coming of spring after leaving the Ural
mountains near Orenburg, and as we
sped or rather crawled south and east
the snow disappeared and the air be-
came milder and balmier until as we
'stepped out of the train at Tashkent
we were in the full glory of the early
spring. There are few lovelier sights
than the coming of spring after the
damp and unpleasant winter of Tur-
kestan. There is hardly ever any wind
In Tashkent, and the calm day after
day is curious to the stranger within
Its gates. The rain and warm weath-
er rapidly bring on tho vegetation, and
soon everything is covered with a deli-
cate green, which blends with the pink
and brown mud walls, the clear blue
of the sky, and the glittering gold and
yellow of the Russian Orthodox
church edifices.
From Tashkent we started on a de-
tour of Kokand, seeing en route the
fertile cotton fields of the Ferghana
and Kokand districts, of which the
city of Skobelovo Is the administra-
tive center. This town also Is new
and without Interest. Some miles
away is the old and ruined city which
It has replaced, whose crumbling mud
walls and deserted streets bear wit-
ness to the power of the railroad to
draw people to itself.
Dead Age Is Revitalized.
From Andijan, near the border of
Chinese Turkestan, the Transcaspian
railroad stretches to the port of Kras-
novodsk, on the shore of the Caspian
sea, a distance of more than 1,100
miles, but the portion between Kokand
and Andijan is without interest fqp
the traveler except for occasional
views of snow-covered mountains on
the Chinese frontier. But on leaving
Kokand for the trip to the Caspian,
we leave the newer cities of the Rus-
sian occupation and enter regions of
old civilization and historic and
archeological interest. After a dusty
journey through unwatered plains we
reached the old and delightful city of
Samarkand, known to all students as
one of the outlying seats of Greek cul-
ture. The present town of Samarkand
is the third city to be erected on prac-
tically the same spot, although the old-
est Greek settlement was laid out per-
haps three miles from the present site.
There is little to be seen of the place
now except bricks and outlines of
buildings covered for the most part
deeply in the sand which had drifted
and blown over them for so long.
Bazaars Are Interesting.
But it is not alone for Its memories
of the past that Samarkand is interest-
ing to the traveler. There Is a busy
but always sedate and grave business
present In the city, and a stroll around
the bazaars Is full of surprises. The
streets of the native town are only
just wide enough for one carriage at
a time, and traffic would be greatly
blocked If there were more than a
very few horse-drawn vehicles in the
city. Ad it is, nearly all freight and
farm products are brought in on cam-
els or on donkeys. The latter are the
same sturdy, gray, and intelligent lit-
tle beasts seen throughout the East
and in Mexico and South America.
They take their duties solemnly and
refuse to be distracted by noise and
confusion. Whole processions of the
little fellow’s pass through the narrow
ways or stop to be unloaded in front
of the shops, which are nothing more
than platforms built at the side of the
street and surrounded with shelves for
merchandise. Some of the streets in
the bazaar are so narrow that they
are like corridors in a building and
are covered from the houses on each
side by arched roofs, so that one can
walk arourid and keep dry even in the
hardest rain.
On all sides there sit, gravely sip-
ping their endless cups of tea and
eating sweetmeats and dried fruits, the
dark-faced merchants, many of them
with long beards dyed red and with
green turbans, shpwing that they have
made the long holy pilgrimage to
Mecca. The brilliance and charm of
the scene are extraordinary. Men and
women are clad in long, flowing gowns
of the brightest silks In startling but
always harmonious combinations—yel-
low, red, blue, and green.
Not infrequently the little streets
are dwarfed by the appearance of a
long string of camels bringing huge
bales of cotton or the heavier kinds
of freight from the country district^:
These animals are picturesque, but so
stupid and vicious that they have to
be tied in a long line with one of
the Intelligent little donkeys in front
to show them where to go.
The next city of importance on the
line of the railway on the way to
Krasnovodsk Is Bokhara. The old his-
toric town is some five miles from the
railroad, with which it is connected
by a branch line and by one of the
worst carriage roads I have ever been
over.
New Bokhara or Kagan is the seat
of a Russian political agent, who is
the representative of the imperial gov-
ernment at the court of the emir of
Bokhara, the most important native
sovereign of this part of the world.
In its way Bokhara, is the most in-
teresting of all the old cities of Turke-
stan. It was for centuries celebrated
as a theological center of Moham«
medanism.
Does It Fit?
A man’s tendency to give advice it
in inverse ratio to his ability to mint'
his own business.
HERE’S Cirr OF SPINSTE
Bachelor Maids Found Town fr> V
sas Into Which Men Can Enter On..
If They Abandon Prerogatives.
A new town Is being born in south
western Kansas. Its name is Victori
City and it is unique. It is a town o
old maids, bachelor maids—the Kansa
headquarters for spinsters—the plac
from which men are barred, except a
they are willing to give up their prej
rogatives and allow the women to rul*
The founding of Victoria City is a
outgrowth of the Kansas Queen Vic
toria club, a spinster union, organize'
by Miss Georgia Hook of Sabetha. Tb
club was launched to protect the i
terest of spinsters.
At first it was local, but the tde
spread and other clubs were forme
throughout the state. It has a member
ship of several hundred women.
In the brain of the president, Ml
Hook, was born the idea of a city fo
spinsters, where they could enact sue’
laws as they desired and live accorrjl
Ing to their own views.
The idea came to Miss Hook coi
dentally with the announcement f
the federal government that there w
about 20,000 acres of land in Kans
especially the southwest, open to hom
stead entry. Miss Hook investigat
Convinced by what she discover
that her idea was feasible, she c
suited other members of the Qn
Victoria clubs. The idea took hoi
them. Five spinsters agreed to en
the scheme, give up their former ho
and Invade the frontier.
Into the southwest they went. Lan
was obtained, and in the center of th
new settlement Victoria City wras 1~
out. It is not far from Dodge City.
The tow’n is only in its infancy
There are a few scattered houses, b
many of the women are waiting
clear titles to their land before th
begin the final development of th
city.
However, wffiile the actual buildiri
of the town is progressing slowly, b
cause of the delay in proving up o
the land, the growth along governm
tal lines is almost completed. And
Is in its governmental form that
town has achieved its distinction.
Miss Hook is the mayor, and t
city council Includes Miss Mabe'ipe
Morton, Miss Sylvia Cawker, Miss Mix
dred Minter and Miss Elizabeth Whit-
ing. These officers were elected by th
original 50 members of the towns!
company.
,■ Heroism at Home.
Attired in a morning robe of deli-
cate lace, she heeded not the bitter
tears that chased each other along the
bridge of her nose and splashed upon
the fried eggs that lay with the sun-
ny side up before her. Regretfully,
her glance rested upon her husband,
who sat opposite, nervously toying
with his spoon.
“No, Annabel,” he was saying, “I
do not care for any of the baking-
powder biscuits you made \\*ith your
own hands.”
“George,” she faltered, “did you not
say before we were married—”
A sob temporarily choked her ut-
terance.
‘Th—that you would gladly die for
me?”
“Did I say that?” he eagerly do j
raanded. <
“You did, George.”
“Annabel,” he said, in a hollow tone,
“I am a man of my word. Can I
trouble you to pass those baking-pow-
der biscuits? Thank you.”
And without another word he court-
ed death.
Possible Explanation.
Mrs. Biggs—My husband seems t<
be lost in thought about half th<
time.
Mrs. Diggs—I suppose his ideas ar<
WO far apart that he can’t help getting
lost on the way from one to another
Cut Rates.
Young Doctor—Do you mean to
say that old Sawbones charged yon
(25 for amputating your big toe?
The Victim—That’s what he did.
Young Doctor—Well, next time yon
send for me. I’ll cut both legs for $10t
Overheard in a Book Store.
New Clerk—Have you ever reao
“The Last Days of Pompeii?”
Mrs. Neurich—No; what did he die\
©f? V
New Clerk—Some kind of an erup«
Hon, I believe.
Dad's Observation.
“But love is blind, you know, papa,”
remarked the pretty girl.
“Right you are,” replied the wise
parent. “And I suppose that is the
reason people In love can never sew
the clock.” I
How About You?
It’s a sign that a man isn’t married
to the right woman if he sits up and
notices every noisily dressed female
that passes.
Like Herself.
Mrs. Y'oungbride (in fish store)—
Haven’t you any lobsters that are
riper? These look so green.—Boston
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The Lampasas Daily Leader. (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 13, No. 202, Ed. 1 Friday, October 27, 1916, newspaper, October 27, 1916; Lampasas, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth905365/m1/2/?q=%22%22~1: accessed July 15, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Lampasas Public Library.