—
heOaib
.tUnM 1893 Oldnt Dally ia Abtka
-—=i
OFFICIAL CITY PAPER
U 9. Keller, Publisher.
.dmltUd M Mcond c'&9g mail
tar Julj I, 189S, at th« Ska*
- P. O.
b« Dally Alaskaa cHarg«a for
publication* not lollclted, which
odea all notice#, other than
roh«% or eharltabl* tocletle*.
Sobcrlptto* R»t«a
> month by mall
i month try earrla
re« montka by mall
eooatfc by maQ
i T»«r by mall
berrlptfona And Advertisement®
fieceitcd By
taett Newa Oo., Wbltchoiae, Y. T
a. Qiileoa Ctrcroaa. Y. T.
L. PUiman Atlln» B. C.
$ -75
1.00
2.26
4.50
9.00
A.drert>.«i» ; is as 010 »s creation,
•he A'mighhty placed in every
in* thill.* thg inherent faculty
property of proclaimin-j itg exis
oe. When thes»» orb-} were set
hirl, i: w'Tg wisely decreed that
nts, throurh color contrast of
wer wi'h foliage, should act as
incn'ive to the consumer to tie
a and possess the fruits of
•se olants. The flowerg of fruit
irinr •rees com,» forth, scatter
Mr reri'ump and attract the eye
man, dvinjr advance publicity
what that organic industry the
e will briivr forth as its fin
ed product.
What greater attraction can be
agincd th-n a broad ac<era.-;e of
»et act ned clover wafting its oer
iie ;o j. swarm of Ufa sediking
» commodity which would satisfy
> appetite and dfliTht the pal
» of the hive, from ihe drone to
» queu?
Wn°: mor attractive window dis
ly than a fitUd i«l" po]<pii« or wild
;e«? What greater color adver
emerit could flaunted before the
•s of eveu an untutored htnnan
m the golden yellow oran«re. the
I ri'»e i herry, or the Btin kissed
;ey che»-k<-<; crab apple?
True it is certain that sonu> pro
•tiva precautions wtTft aectssary.
rural ca.munifia.se artist of the an
il kingdom, when in fear of dis
very pro'tcts itself against on*
.ught by adaptability to emrrouixL
-s. But, them who desires a
iuneleon for any »ractical pur
>s ? How <!o« he affect life?
en the plant and the bee. thdbird
J. the beast transform a>nd make
> environment: they are Pro*
^sIto bu: a chameleon needs no
blici'y for he la valueless.
Then, we haw the singi-ng of
xls, the lowing of cattle the coo
? o' doree, tho blatant cajl of
jsts. an-?, cot the least tho home
hen.
Ah! In the hen you find the true
vertlser with something: to adver
«. Unlike tha duck, which con*
Us and covers her product, the
a manufacture^ her pro duct, which
good—the* tells the world.
Bvarytthing that Nature wants to
?U" to ('oslrous consuming' publie
a always Teen advertised to an
iio3» profligate degree, yet al
.ys consistent with the self pro
'tioa *n<i conservation of the best
Muctlve Interset of the great man
ictory—1* arth.
Are rou a hen or a chameleom?
• you sha^ destiny eurroumJiuy
u or do you, chameleon like,
aaSe your better self to fit sur
undlngs?
Read Nature's page in the direc
•n of her advertising.
Use the contrast of "black and
ute" or the more variegated col
f*d Inks of types and color sketch,
t be assured that the most naMrra
^thod 'or the disposition of goods
throu.h Judicious advertising.
Don't be a chameleon—Advertise!
Duuont Magazine.
r —. . _ .
mc light
IMUIt ELfARIN&r
A TALE OF THE NORTH COUNTRY
t IN THE TIME OF SILAS WIGHT /
IRVING BACMELLERw
AlTWO* Of
«KN HOUm DTH AND 1. DAB8U Of THE BUSSEQ ISLEi
" ' U£m) Of V1TM 1177 IP, ETC. ETC
"Thunder an' llghtnln'! How you've
raised the roof!" he exclaimed as he
"Thunder an' Lightnin'l How You'va
Raised the Roofl"
grabbed my satchel. Dressed like a
statesman an' blgger"n a bulimoose.
I cau't 'rastle with you no more. But,
say. 1'U run ye a race. 1 can beat ye
an' curry the satchel, too."
We ran pell-mell up the lane to the
steps like a pair of children.
Aunt Deel did not speak. She just
put her arms around me and laid her
dear old bead upon my breast. Uncle
Pcabody turned away. Then what a
silence! Off in the edge of the wood
laud I heard the fairy flute of a wood
thrush.
"Purvis, yon drive that load on the
floor an' put up the bosses," Uncle
Peabody shouted In a moment "If
you don't like It you can hire 'nother
man. I won't do no more till after
dinner. This slave business la played
out"
"All right." Purvis answered.
"Yon bet It's all right I'm fer abo
Utlo.! an' I've stood your domlneerin',
t^gge:-driver ways long enough fer
one in. ruin'. If you don't like it you
can lool. for another man."
Aunt l>eel and I began to laugh at
this good-natured, make-believe scold
ing of Uncle Peabody and the emo
tional strain was over. They led me
into the house, where a delightful sur
prise awaited nie. for the rooms had
been decorated with balsam boughs
and sweet ferns. A glowing mass of
violets, framed In moss, occupied the
center 01 the table. The house was
filled with t!:» o<!o s of the forest
which, as they knew, were dear to me.
I had written tl at u.ey might expect
me some time before noon, but l
begged them not to meet me In Can
ton, as I wished to walk home after
my long ride. So they were ready for
me.
I remember how they felt the cloth
on my back and how proudly they sur
veyed it.
"Couldn't buy them goods 'round
these parts," said Uncle Peabody.
"Nor nothln' like 'em—no, sir."
"Feels a leetle bit like the butternut
[ trousers," said Aunt Deel as she felt
my coat
j "Ayes, but them butternut trousers
I ain't what they used to be when they
was young and limber," Uncle Peabody
remarked. "Seems so they was get
tln' kind o' wrinkled an* baldheaded
11ke, 'specially where I set down."
"Ayes! Wal I guess a man can't
grow 'old without his pants growln'
old, too—ayes!" said Aunt Deel.
"If yer legs are in 'em ev'ry Sunday
they ketch it of ye," my uncle an
swered. "Long sermons are hard on
pants, seems to me."
"An' the longer the legs the harder
| the sermons—in them little seats over
j't the schoothouse—ayes!" Aunt Deel
added by way of justifying his com
plaint. "There wouldn't be so much
wear In a ten-mile walk—no 4"
The chicken pie was baking and the
1 strawberries were ready for the short
cake.
"I've been wallerin' since the dew
was oft glttln' them berries an' vl'
lets—ayes!" said Aunt Deel, now busy
I with her work at the stove.
I "Aunt, you look as young as ever," I
I remarked.
She slapped my arm and said with
j mock severity:
"Stop that! Wy! Tou know better
—ayes 1"
How vigorously she stirred the Are
then.
"I can't return the compliment—my
soul! how you've changed—ayes I" she
remarked.
"I hope yon ain't fit no more, Bart.
- can't bear to think o' vou flrln' at
toiks un' poundin' of 'em. Don't seem,
right—uo. It dou't!"
"Why, Aunt Dee!, what In the world
do you mean?" I asked.
"It's Purvis' brain that does the
poundln'. I guess." said my uncle.
"It's kind o' got the habit, it's a reg'
lar beetle brain. To hear him talk
ye'd think he an' you could clean out
the hull Mexican nation—barrin' acci
dents. Why, anybody would suppose
that yer euemies so to cllmbin' trees
as soon as they see ye couiiu' an' that
you pull the trees up by the roots to
git at 'em."
- "A certain amount of such deviltry
Is necessary to the comfort of Mr.,
Purvis," I remarked. "If there is no
body else to take the responsibility
for it he assumes It himself. His imag
ination has an intense craving for
blood and violence. It's that type of
American who, egged on by ihe slave
power. Is hurrying us into trouble
with Mexico."
Purvis came in presently witli a j
look in his face which betrayed his
knowledge of the fact that all the cob
webs spun by his fancy were now to
be brushed away. Still he enjoyed
thpiu while they lasted and there was
a kind of tacit claim in his manner
that they were subjects regarding
which uo honest iuau could be expect
ed to tell the truth.
As we ate our dinner they told me
that an escaped slave hud com6 into
a neighbor!lug county and excited the
people with stories of the auction
block and of negroes driven like yoked
oxen on plantations lu South Carolina,
whence he had escaped on a steam
boat.
"I b'lleve I'm goin' to vote for abo
lition." said Uncle Peabod.v. "I won
der what Sile Wright will say to that."
'"He'll probably advise against it; the
time isn't ripe for,so great a change,"
was my answer. "He thinks that the
whole matter should be left to the gla
cial uction of time's forces."
Indeed I had spoken the view of
the sounder men of the North. The
subject tilled them with dread alarm.
I But the attitude of Uncle Peabody
was significant. The sentiment in fa
vor of a change was growing. It was
now to be reckoned with, for the abo
lition party was said to hold the bal-1
ance of power In New York and New
England and was behaving itself like'
a bull In a china shop.
After dinner I tried to put on some ]
of my old clothes, but found that my j
nakedness had so expanded that they
would not cover It, so I hitched my
white mare on tho spring wugon and
drove to the village for my trunk,
Every week duy aftor that I worked
| In the fields until the senator arrived
I In Canton about the middle of August.
On one of those happy days I received
a letter from old Kate, dated, to my i
surprise, in Saratoga. It said:
"Dear Barton Baynes: I thought 11
would let you know that my father is
dead. I have come here to rest and
have found some work to do. I am bet
ter now. Have seen Sally. She Is very
beautiful and kind. She does not know
that I am the old witch, I have changed
so. The others do not know—it Is
better that way. I think It was the
Lord that brought me here. He has a
way of taking care of some people,
my boy. Do you remember when I be-1
gan to call you my boy—you were very
little. It is long, long ago since I first
saw you In your father's dooryard—
you said you were going to mill on a
butterfly's back. You looked Just as I
thought my boy would look. You gave
me a kiss. What a wonderful gift it
was to me then! I began to love you.
I have no one else to think of now. I
hope you won't mind my thinking so
much of you.
"God bless you,
"KATE FULLERTON."
I understood now why the strong
will and singular insight of this wom
an had so often exercised themselves
in my behalf. I could not remember
the far day and the happy circum
stance of which she spoke, but I wrote
her a letter which must have warmed
her h°jrt I am sure.
Slla» Wright arrived in Canton and
drove up to our home. He reached
our door at eight In the morning with
bis hound and rifle. He had aged rap
idly slace I had seen him last. His
hair was almost white. There were
many new lines in his face. He
seemed more grave and dignified. He
did not lapse Into the dialect of his
fathers when he spoke of the ancient
pastimes of hunting and fishing as he
had been wont to do.
"Bart," he said when the greetings
were over, "let's you and me go and
spend a day In the woods. Ill leave
my man here to help your uncle while
you're gone."
We went by driving south a few
miles and tramping In to the foot of
the Stillwater on our river—a trail
long familiar to me. The dog left us
soon after we took It and began to
rsnge over thick wooded hills. We sat
down among small, spirellke acruces
af tile rlvSr's edge witfl a long stretch
of water in sight while the music of
the hound's voice came faintly to our
ears from the distant forest.
"Oh, I've been dreaming of this for
a long time," said the senator as he
leaned back against a tree and filled
his lungs and looked out upon the wa
ter, green with lily pads along the
edge and flecked with the last of the
white blossoms. "I believe you want
to leave this lovely country."
"I am waiting for the call to go,"
I said.
"Well. I'm inclined to think you are
the kind of man who ought to go." he
answered almost sadly. "You are
needed. I have been waiting until we
should meet to congratulate you on
your behavior at Cobleskill. 1 think
you have the rlgtit spirit—that is the
all-important matter. You will en
counter strange company in the game
of politics. Let me tell you a story."
He told me many stories of his life
In Washington, interrupted by a sound
like that of approaching footsteps. We
ceased talking and presently ft flock
of gurtrldges came near us, pacing
along over the mat of leaves In a lei
surely fashion. We sat perfectly still.
A young cock bird with his beautiful
ruff standing out, like the hair on the
back of a frightened dog, strode
toward us with a comic threat In his
manner. It seemed as if he were of
half a mind to knock us Into the i+ver.
But we sat as still as stumps and he
spared us and went on with the others.
The baying of Ae hound was nearer
now. Suddenly we saw a big buck
come down to the shore of the cove
near us and on our side of the stream.
He looked to right and left. Then he
made a long leap Into the water and
waded slowly until it covered him. He
raised his nose and laid his antlers
back over his shoulders and swam
quietly downstream, his nose Just
showing above the water. His antlers
were like a bit of driftwood. If we
had not seen him take the water his
antlers might easily have passed for
a bunch of dead sticks. Soon the buck
slowly lifted his head and turned his
neck and looked at both shores. Then
very deliberately he resumed his place
under water and went on. We watched
him as he took the farther shore be
low us and made off lu the woods
again.
"I couldn't shoot at him. it was such
a beautiful bit cf politicV said the
senator.
Soon the houn.l ;• ach< 1 the cove's
edge and swam the river and ranged
up and down the bank for half an
hour before he found the buck's trail
again.
"I've seen many a rascal, driven to
water by the hounds, go swimming
away ns slyly as that buck, with their
horn< In the air, looking us Innocent
as a bit of driftwood. They come in
from both shores—the Whig and the
Democratic;—and they are always shot
at from one bank or the other.''
I remember It surprised me a little
to hear him say that they came in
from both shores.
"Just what do you want to do?" he
asked presently.
"I should like to go down to Wash
ington with you and help you In any
way that I can."
"All right, partner—we'll try It," he
answered gravely. "I hope that I don't
forget and work you as hard as I work
myself. It wouldn't be decent. I have
ii great many letters to write. I'll try
thinking out loud while you take them
down In sound-hand. Then you can
draft them neatly and I'll sign them.'
Von have tact and good manners and
can do many of my errands for me and
save me from those who have no good
reason for taking up my time."
"You will meet the best people and
the worst. There's Just a chance that
It may come to something worth while
—who knows? You are young yet. It
will be good tralniug and you will wit
ness the making of some history now
and then."
What elation I felt!
Again tne voice or ine nouna, wnicn
had been ringing in the distant hills,
was coming nearer.
"We must keep watch—another deer
is coming," said the senator.
We had only a moment's watch be
fore a fine yearling buck came down
to the opposite shore and stood look
ing across the river. The senator
raised his rifle and flred. The buck
fell in the edge of the water.
"How shall we get him?" my friend
asked.
"It will not be difficult," I answered
as I began to undress. Nothing was
difficult those days.
I swam the river and towed the
buck across with a beech withe in his
gambrel joints. The hound Joined me
before I was half across with my bur
den and nosed the carcass and swam
on ahead yelping with delight.
We dressed the deer and then I
had the great joy of carrrylng him
on my back two miles across the coun
try to the wagon. The senator wished
to send a guide for the deer, but I in
sisted that the carrying was ray privi
lege.
"Well, I guess your big thighs and
broad shoulders can stand it," said he.
"M.v uncle has always said that no
man could be called a hunter until he
can go into the woods without a guide
and kill a deer and bring It out on
his back. I want to be able to testify
that I am at least partly qualified."
"Your uncle didn't say anything
about fetching the deer across a deep
river without a boat, did he?" Mr.
Wright asked me with a smile.
Leaves of the beeches, maples and
basswoods—yellowed by frost—hung
like tiny lanterns, glowing with noon
day light, above the dim forest aisle
which we traveled.
The sun was down when we got to
the clearing.
1 "What a day it has been!" said Mr.
wngnt wnen we were seated In the
wagon.
"One of the best in my life," I an
swered with a Joy In my heart the like
of which I have rarely known in these
many years that have come to me.
We rode on in silence with the calls
of the swamp robin and the hermit
thrush ringing in our ears as the night
fell.
"It's a good time to think, and tnere
we take different roads," said my
frienjl. "You will turn Into th6 future
and I into the past."
"I've been thinking about your
uncle," he said by and by. "He is one
of the greatest men I have ever known,
fou knew of that foolish gossip about
h:m—didn't you?"
"Yes," I answered.
"Well, now, he's gone about his busi
ness the same as ever and showed by
his life that it couldn't be true. Not a
word out of him! But Dave Ramsey
fell sick—down on the flat last winter.
By and by his children were crying for
bread and the poonnaster was going
to take charge of them. Well, who
should turn up there. Just in the nick
of time, but Delia and Peabody
Baynes. They fed those children all
winter and kept them in clothes so
that they could go to school. The
strange thing about it is this: It wrs
Dave Ramsey who really started that
story. He got up In church the other
night and confessed his crime. His
conscience wouldn't let him keep It.
He said that he had not seen I'eabody
Baynes on that road the day the
money was lost but had only heard
that he was there. He knew now that
he couldn't have been there. Gosh
t'almighty! as your uncle used to
say when there was nothing else to be
said."
It touched me to the soul—this long
delayed vindication of my beloved
Uncle Peabody.
The senator ate supper with us and
sent his hired man out for his horse
and buggy. When he had put on his
overcoat and was about to go he
turned to my uncle and said:
"Peabody Baynes. If I have had any
success in the world It is because I
have had the exalted honor and con
sciousness that I represented men like
you."
He left ns and we sat down by the
glowing candles. Soon I told them what
Ramsey had done. There was a mo
ment of silence. Uncle Peabody rose
and went to the water pall for a drink.
"Bart, I believe I'll plant corn on
that ten-arce lot next spring—darned
If I don't," he said as he returned to
his chair.
None of us ever spoke of the matter
again, to my knowledge.
(Continued on Saturday)
Hundreds of Slkagway Readers
Flad Daily Toil a Burden
The hustle and worry of business
men,
The hard work an<2 stooping of
workmen,
The woman's Jioius-ehoOd) c&res,
Often weakens the kindeys
Backache, headache, dizzeness,
Kidney troubles, urinary trouibl-g,
frequently allow.
Read the following andl learn
the way to find relief:
Mrg. 7. C. Brown, 108 E. Thir
ty rour*U St., Tacoma, Wash., says:
"My health had' always been fine un
tile my kidneyej went back on me
some ten yearq ago. At first I
didn't n;>y much attention to the
trouble ami finally i wag do bad
off I could hardly go. Half of
tho time I was in bed utfable to do
my house work. Everything I didt
to relieve mysdlf failed and I was
just miserable and discouraged. I
was advised to try Doan's Kidney
Pills rut had not got where I thot
there was ii« help for mie. Doan's
helped me from the start an<2 two
boxes removed the trouble. My
good health come bacik and I felt
fine over since Doan's cured me."
Price fit) c, at all dealers. Don't
simply ask for a kidney remedy—
get Doan's Kidney Pills— the earna
that Mrs. Brown had/. Foster-Mil
burn Co., Mfgrs., Buffalo, N. Y.
Only One "BROMO QUININE"
To ret [the genuine, call for the
full name LAXATIVE BROMO
QUININE. Look for signature of
E. W. GROVE, Curee a Cold in
Ono Day. 30c. Thu
I —I -i /4KVR A remedy ton Elections
nllnai /as «'tte tract
fflKKBT K|._, I'airJesa, non-poisoooua
"jjlS'-* EnV HBf .-d vril I not stricture
JfidirtoXU* V.l Relieves in 1 to 5 daya.
pn.CE $1.20 Sold By B'nggkts
T:e. e w, ti e-ch bottl« or rcailcc on rc.,uiMt.
KREPAKEU BY
THE EVANS CHEMICAL CO, CINCINNATI, 0.
White Pass & Yukon Route
TIME TABLE NO. 42
Thursdav anil Friday
So. 1. N. Round
1st Cl»ss c
9:00 a. m. I.e»v«s
11:25 a. m. H
12:15 p. m. "
1:10 p. m. "
2:50 p. m. "
5:20 p. m. Arrives
SKAGWAY
WHITE PASS
LOG CABIN
BENNETT
CARCROSS
WHITEHORSE
No. 2. S. Bound
Arrives
Lt-»vea
n
4:20 p. m.
2:60 p. m.
2:00 p. m.
1:20 p. m.
11:18 a. m.
8:30 a. m.
Passengers mast be at depot in time u> nave oajJK'Hi'J in
spected and checked. Inspection Is stopped 30 minutes before
leaving time of trains.
150 pounds of baggage will to3 checked free with e»cb full
fare ticket and 75 pounds wltil each half fare ticket.
IN THE COfUMNS OF
The Daily Alaskan
V OU will find advertising that bring results
Ask Skagway Merchants
Put your offerings before the public in a
way that will bring 100 per centre
turns.
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I
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