HAMILTON COUNTY PEESS
ONE DO IiliAB P E B YEAB IN ABVAN'OB.
VOL.XVI.
DEVOTED TO THE INTEBE STS OF HAMILTON COUNTY.
HOPE, X. Y., SATUKDAY, JANUARY 5, 1889.
We have just received from the Metropolis a full and Cumplete liH6 of FALL
GOODS and invite you to call and see our
New Stock
LADIES' & CHILDREN’S CLOAKS,
m e n ’s , w o m e n ’s a n d c h i l d r e n ’s
UNDERW EAR,
Dress Goods.
Death found him at play, he lured him an’—git,* which they done, an’ I went
back an’ give her water, an* she come
A n d w ith h im w e n t h a lf o u r ]oy.
We molded the turf that his feet had to an* jest kitched my ban* up an’
k
is s e d it.”
pressed,
A n d k e p t his g ra v e g re e n in th e m eadow s
“L^rd!” cried the miner,
of rest.
“An' it wasn’t over-clean, fur mendin’
I remember a silver-haired father,
ain’t over-pertikler wurk. Wal, she
W ho w alked by th e r i v e r w ave
hadn’t no frens, an’ was come here to
To watch the reeds grow, or the sweet settle, au’ bein’ weak an’' hystcricky, I
waters flow,
took her home to Sister Jane. ‘’Pears
O r to mu:;e b y t h a t little grave.
He has passed long ago to the place he loved to me,’ she says to Jane, ‘all the
best,
troubles of my life is bin caused by
To the inflnito peace of God’s meadows of men.’”
“They be onnery,” said the miner,
I wonder if green are those meadoTvs,
sympathetically.
I f p u rlin g an d c le a r a re th e strea m s,
“We kep’ her a week, an’ then she
If the moon shines as bright, if the stars give
went to wurk sewin’, an’ insisted- on
such light
payin’
her board, and made Jane the
As they did in my youth’s happy dreams.
trimmest gowns an’ caps, and me a
0, angel of destiny, heed my request:
G ive m e back, give m e b a c k m y d e a r m ead­ dressin’-gown like I was a female. I
ows of rest.
wears it to please her, but I alius feels
—[Mrs. M. L. Bayne, in Free Pre.5S.
I looks like one .of them old patriarks
in’t. Wo never arsked her hist’ry, but
Jane sed she was bruised from blows,
an’ I SCO she trained her pretty curls
over a scarce healed scar on her fore­
BY PATIENCE STAPLETON.
head. I calc’lated she was one of thein
Oa a weather-beaten board, supported thoroughbreds what will stan’ enny
by a creaking iron rod, hung the sign, amount of drivin’, but^it’s-a smash an’
“ Soles Saved Here,” which Breckin­ a runaway if you hit ’em.”
“There’s some men as ought to be
ridge thought 80 exceedingly lunny
that it never ceased to attract enstem shot oa sight,” muttered the miner.
and comment. It had been there ton “An’ thet shoe was hern?”
A NUMBER OWE.
IN a l l t h e l a t e a n d d e s i r a b l e
SHADES OF HENRIETTA, TRICOT
AND SEBASTOPOL,
_ _ - ■y
DRESS TKIMMINGS,
BRAID SETS, PANELS AND GIRDLES.
Foot Wear
FOR GENTS, LADIES AND CHILDREN
OF THE MOST DESIRABLE MAKE
AND STYLES.
youth s’ an d
c h i l d e e n ’s
SUITS, OVERCOATS,
Hats and Caps,
-•
of great variety and stability.
R U B B E R
A complete line of
eOOBS.
’
‘
into the little town in the
bought out the shoe-repairing business
of Caleb Binm
Mender on this June afternoon sat in
the door of hii shop, repairing a small
and extremely shabby shoe. He was a
short, stubby man, with twinkling eyes
behind spectacles, and a shock of gray
hair standing straight up from his fore-
Down the trail from Red Mountain,
as the afternoon shadows grew long,
and night came creeping under the
evergreen)^ galloped a lean broncho at
a headlong gait. His rider, a bigbearded miner, glanced around under
his bushy eye-brow?, and now and then
gave a grunt of satisfaction.
“The old place don’t see you on
more, Bill,” ho muttered, as the bron­
cho panted up a short incline, “ fur
you've struck it rich, as a certified
check fur ’way up in the thousands kin
testify.”
He galloped into Breckinridge, left
his broncho at the hotel and went along
to the shoe shop.
“ Same old sign,”
‘Tlv’nin’, M ender.”
he
smiled.
“Hullo, Bill; thought you was dead.
Ain’t seen you these three years. Same
bute?, top, I maid. Wal, I alius done
good work.”
“You did; but just clap a patch on
this one whilst I wait, fur I ain’t a-goin’
to torture myself of, I Lev struck it
rich.
My leet is liable to swell in the
keers. I’ll leave ye an order, too. Men­
der, for bates is good ernuff With me.
No lace shoes like a jude.”
“ Who you roped
ia on the
mine.
Bill?”
*
“No one: they’ll double what they
give me—three hundred thousand—but
Do not wait, but come and be convinced of the great bargains awaiting I ain’t no hog; I know when I’ve got
enough.”
you at the
®
“Few does,” muttered Mender, wax­
ing his thread.
The miner looked around the shop;
then his eye fell on that shabby little
N.T. STORE.
Northvifle, N. Y.
ROSIXSFZESH. .Aren't*
NO. 1.
Meadows o f Best.
see was a little mite of a growed wo­
“An’ me, with all my money, can’t
I remember the beautiful meadows
man, with bright, bird-like eyes and make that poor little soul comferble^**
And their sweet streams purling clear.
curly hair. ‘Them miners is a folletin’ he sighed.
With flowers besprent, where my young me,’ she cries, drops inter thet cheer,
There was a sound of quick footsteps
days were spent,
an’ faints dead away.”
outside, something- like the clatter of.
Where the birds tiieir nurslings rear.
“Gosh, this very cheer?” echoed Bill, slippers down at the heel, then the
I was sheltered then in the dear home nest,
Where my feet turned oft to the meadows in an awe-stricken tone.
latch clicked.
“S'lme—set right there. I opens the
“Ain’t done, Nelly,” called the old
d o o r, ‘B ’y s ,’ I says, ‘I’ve got the drop man. “I’ll wait and finish’em; they’re
I remember a grave in those m taaow .s,
W h e re s lum bered a lau g h in g -e y ed bo y ;
on je , an’ it's a shame to act like thet, p arty far gone.”
LOOK!!
m e n ’s ,
J. R. ARROWSMITH, Publisher.
“Befits all what sawed off feet wimmeu hes, though I ain’t mentioning
Norweiguns.’’
“ The Lord made ’em so.”
“Prob’ly. An’ this now,’’ (turning
the shoe over in hii L ir hand) “ is a
gal’s, not a growed w o m a n ’s?’’
“All of twonly-eight: quite a yarn
about that, too. Three yours ago I was
aettin’ hero betweenst day and dark,
when my door busts open, an’ in runswhat I took to bo a gal, but afterward
There was no answer, only a sort of
gasp and a smothered exclamatioa from
the miner, who brought his chair down
w ith a je rk .
The
o ld
m an lo o k e d a t
“I calc’late you two i s ’ quainted,” he
grinned. '
Bill h a i forgotten his one stocking
foot, even his stern morality, and she,
that little, thin creature, with her
white, worn face, her sad, tearleb eyes,
was looking at him so wistfully, so
yearningly that ho must have known
she had not needed his telling her that
he cared for her before he ran away. A
quick suspicion flashed through his
mind.
She loved him, and had come
to Colorado to find him these three
years back. Still his lips had to utter
the name in his heart so long.
‘Nelly!” ho cried, with a sob; and
she - she put out her hands like a sleep­
walker; then, with a low cry, she ran
to him anid hid her face on his breast.
Still he did not touch her. as she dung
to him, weeping passionately.
“It aren’t righ^” ‘ he muttered,
hoarsely. “I sed never should you be
as you is now; till it were. You an*' mo
has seen campr, .an* knows what wrong .
love is.”
She only clung closer, such a child­
like « u n ^ in her s j i ^ ^
neighborly. When I corn© hero I says, “ onsc my arms meet around you, I shall
’
•T’ll.give JO fifteen dollars fur the never let you go.” - . .
“Wal, you needn’t,” said Mender,
place.’ Says he, ‘Take it for fourteen
an’ a harf.’ ‘Why?’ said I. ‘Did you,’ dryly; lu t there were tears in his old
says he, ‘ever know a man wot become eyes. You needn’t. Bill—she’s a wida sewer fur gab? Wal, look at me. der.”
“It’s only since this mornin’,” he
Ev ry crank as has breath ercuff ter git
up the bank comes ia an* talks to mo; continued, as the big arms inclosed the
“ but
it’s
proper,
ev’ry bummer who kin walk staggers in tiny figure,
calc’late.
She’d ’ run • away
an’ vents his rum-soaked remarks on
from
him,
but
he
tracked
her;
six
weeks
me; ev’ry sunbuanited or shawl-headed
female woman comes to tell me her ago he come in when we was eatia’ sup­
troubles with the old man or the neigh­ per, an’ Jane hove the teapot at him.
bors.’ ‘Will,” I says, ‘it’s comp’ny?’ Vi’lence wa’n’t no use; he took Nelly
‘Yah, I hate ’em,’ growls he. *Kaow an’ her savin’s, an’ was jest a-goia* to
where I’m going, not you. You’re the leave town atter ib'sin’ .alt she hed, an’
kind as tells about a gal you loved, draggin’ her along, when the altitude
named Sairy, wot died fifty year ago. kitched him. I calc’ iato this place is
Wal, I’m goin’ to be a sheep-herder, too nigh heaven fur a creepin’ cuss like
where I wuat see one of human kind thet to crawL I was a mendin’ '.that
fur months on a stretch, an’ where I ■ shoe for his widder to wear ito the funkin go bare-footed the year ’round.’
“Iknowed no woman but her. could
So he goes an’ I stays.”
“ When I was in Arizony,” said the wear ’em,?’ cried. Bill, holding the shoo
miner, laying the shoo down, with a reverently, “an’ it shall be set in gold
sigh, “I boarded to the house of a outer my mine.”
“It’s a mile too big,” she. said, very
little woman as could a-wore them
shoes. The vittles was awful. Some blushing and shy, ‘‘an’ is so horrid.”
“Never
hecred a woman but sed them
of the biscuits would a took a blast to
open ’em, ’an the pies might a soled very words,” grinned Mender, beaming
them lutes, but she wa’n’t but a young on them. “Now, Bill, y ourn’a done, an*
thing, ’an her husband was the onaeri- lemme stick a patch on that one,.. Nelly,
fur you don’t wanter be a creckin’ round
est.”
“ They alius hes thet name in them in new ones to the funerel, like you was
too
glad to git him plarated.’*
•
cases,” suggested Mender, slyly.
The next afternoon, when. the twi­
“This wa’n’t no cases. He never
keered, only that the wurk was light shadows were falling, Jonathan
done, but I did,” —the miner’s face sad­ Mender stood in his shop door and
dened— “an* Isold out as good a team­ watched the train creep miles above on
the mountain ondts way to Denver.
ing business as you ever see.”
“Party rapid this western'' country,”
‘’Count o’ popler sent’ment, I
ho soliloquiz.'d, jingling the coins in
spose?”
his pocket. ‘‘We never miss no time;
‘•Naw, thare's queer things in a
!>ut there ain’t man/ small wimmen like
man’s life; an’ ef I’d stayed I’d a killed Nelly as kin bury one husband in the
her husband, an’ that would a bin no forenoon an’ git merried to the second
way to git her affection, an’ wouldn’t a in the urtarnoon, an’ I guess Bill don’t
looked fair. Them's my morels.
She
know the mate to that little shoe he’s
was his wife an’ a good woman. I sold got stowed away is over on my shelf
out the biz at a dead loss,” (with a as a mementomory that little number
sigh) “an’ I just wisht her time o’ day
one—the smallest fur wiii^en-kipd as
an’ run off iike a cow'ard. I starved up. ever I see.’ —[Once a Week.
here fur ten years, an’ I wan’t pleased
with myself neith-jr when a feller from
A Seasonable Article.
Fairplay told me ho iieerod she an’ him
Poldoody (in a restaurant)—Here’s a
was awful poor, an’ she was the wust seasona ble .article on oysters, Gu%
abused woinan ho ever see.”
Poasohby—That’s good. What is itf
It was quite dark in the little shop
Poldoody—C it up!—[The Idea.
now, and Mender lit his lamp, leaning
low to his beach to see in the light. A
Suridsiy is the golden clasp that
lean cat came purring out of a corner, binds together the volume of tho
and the miner tiited back his chair.