The Newark Journal.
O F. CRAIG. Kdltor.
NEWARK- - v ARKANSAS.
THE NIGHT OF
THE STRAW RIDE.
f' BY EMMA A. OFFER.
“We’re going to meet at Della
Ridgeley'g,” Ha id Harlow Seaman,
“at 7:I{U o’clock, and start from
there — what's the matter?” he
broke off, for Dot's face was lugu
brious.
“I can’t go, Harlow,” she said.
“Can’t go!’’ Harlow echoed.
“Can’t go to the straw ride! Who
says you can’t?”
“Cousin Tirzah,” said Dot,
speaking low, and Harlow saw
that Mrs. Eldred, Dot's Cousin
Tirzah, was within hearing, and
he backed down the steps, his fa<*e
•bowing his sympathy.
“Who was it V’ Cousin Tirzah
Inquired.
“Harlow Seaman,” said Dot,
her voice trembling.
“About that straw ride? Well,”
•aid Cousin Tirzah, “I wouldn't
have you going off like that, with a
great, noisy raft of youngsters—”
“It’s just the boys and girls in
our set,” said Dot.
“Going off goodness knows
where,” Cousin Tirzah pursued,
“and getting home goodness
knows when!”
“Its only five miles over to
Fanny Goodsell’s, and they’re
coming home real early,” said Dot.
“That will do,” said Cousin Tir
zah. “1 have my reasons, Doro
thea. I don’t believe in letting
girls of your age go traipsing off
five or six nights in the week to all
kinds of doings. It isn't good for
them. ”
“Yes'm," said Dot, and she tried
to think about that. Cousin Tir
zah was good to her. She was a
very distant cousin, but when
Dot's father had died and left her
alone, being a widow, and very
comfortably off, Cousin Tirzah
had taken Dot, and had given her
a home.
But, oh. dear ! If only Cousin
Tirzah did not have such strange
ideas about girls. Dot did so
dearly love a good time now and
then. All the other girls could go,
and have fun enough to talk about
for a week afterward.
Dot tried to eat her supper
cheerfully, but an hour after sup
per she found that her mind was
just where it had been.
“I’ve got a kind of headache,”
she said, forlornly. “I guess I’ll
go to bed, Cousin Tirzah.”
“Already? Very well. Take
my camphor bottle,” said Cousin
Tirzah.
Up in her room. Dot leaned out
nt the window. The moon was al
most full and the world bright
beneath it. What a night for a
straw ride! Hark—she heard
some of them going past, on their
way to Della Ridgeley’s, talking
and laughing and “carrying on.”
8he listened to the last merry
echo. A big, hot tear splashed
down on the sill.
Suddenly she jumped to her
feet. She looked at herself in the
dim glass. Such an amazing idea
had come into her head that she
could scarcely believe it was she
who had thought of it. She began
to breathe fast. If she only dared
do it. It was not much after 7:30;
perhaps they had not started yet;
perhaps if she hurried she might
catch them. She pinned her hat
on. She tied a fresh ribbon around
her neck, with trembling fingers,
and she found her heart beating
high as she stole down the stairs.
The back doors were fastened
for tin* night. Dot softly un
fastened and opened a window
and climbed out.
‘‘I can come back this way,” she
thought. ‘‘Cousin Tirzah won’t
notice that it’s open.”
She hurried through the garden
and climbed the back fence, the
shortest cut to Della Ridgeley’s
was across lots. And, in spite of
all her dreadful, gnawing qualms,
she pulsed with joy. She was
free; she was jxoinjr on the straw
ride, and she was recklessly hap
P.v
She ran through a stubby rye
field, and through a wide pasture.
It was Mr. Emery's pasture; in
the middle of it. casting its black
shadow on the moon lit ground,
was a large barn, old and unused
except for storing hay. 1 lot, scud
ding past this barn with no
thought of timidity, caught a
sound, and the sound brought her
to a standstill. It was certainly a
man's voice.
l)ot stood and quivered with
fright. The man was in tin* old
barn. He was not alone—there
was somebody to whom he was
speaking. Who were they?
Tramps? The idea was terrify
ing. Hot became possessed of a
great fear of passing that barn.
What if they saw her? They
might. She did the only thing she
dared do—she stepped into the
shadow of the barn and flattened
herself against the building and
stood there trembling.
For a moment, though, now,
through the wide cracks, she could
hear plainly the voices within,
her fright confused her under
standing. Then she pricked her
ears. Whose voice was that? She
knew quite well she had heard it
before.
“\\ isht there wa n t such a
moon,” the man was saying; “it’s
too light.”
“That won’t cut no ice,” was the
rejoinder.
‘‘Well, I guess "t won’t at one
o’clock or so. Folks here go to
bed with the chickens, anyhow.”
Yes. I)ot knew the voice. It
was Durfee Jackson's. Durfee
Jackson! The thought of him
made Dot shiver. For Durfee
Jackson was a ne’er-do-well, and
worse. Once he had been Cousin
Tirzah’s hired man, until his un
steadiness had caused his dis
charge. He had been always in
bad company, had been arrested
in Brighton, and served two
years in jail for breaking into the
Brighton post office.
And this was Durfee Jackson
again! Dot heard a match snap;
they were lighting their pipes,
and talking, with frequent rough
laughter, of matters whose ini
port Dot did not comprehend.
And then, suddenly: “ ’T won't
be no kind of a risk about it,” said
Durfee Jackson. “I know every
inch o’ the place; I worked there
once.”
“Which house did vou sav ’t
was?”
“Big yaller one with cupola on
top, and porch all round. I know
it like a book—pshaw! know
where she keeps her money and
all about it.” Durfee Jackson i
laughed. “Keeps it locked up in
secret a ry u pst a i rs.”
“Easy busted?” said the other.
“I should sav so, rut her,” said
Durfee Jackson, with the swag
gering voice that Dot knew.
“There’s silver and stuff, too; the
old lady’s well off. She’s got
enough stuff to—”
“Any man there?”
“Nop. Feller that works for her
goes home nights. I've found that
out. There’s just her and a wom
an that does the work, and a lit
tle gal.”
The ‘‘little pal" leaned against
the barn’s side. She felt as if her
heart had stopped beatinp. She
had heard enouph; a ehild, even,
might have understood it. Her
thoughts were like lightning Hash
eg. Durfee .Jackson, who had
robbed a post office—he, and an
other man, that night at one
o’clock—the yellow house with
the cupola. Cousin Tirzah’s house
—the money in th<* secretary up
stairs. And nobody there but
Cousin Tirzah and Janet and her
self.
A great wave of something
stronger than fear swept 1 >ot—in
dignation. Durfee Jackson, to be
meaning to break into Cousin Tir
zah’s house and steal her money!
It was too awful to believe.
She thought swiftly. She knew
exactly what she should do. ISlie
had lost her terror. Even if they
saw her, even if they chased her—
she drew her skirts closely about
her and gave a long hound and ran
across the field like a deer.
When she was safe out of sight
of the barn she stopped to
breathe. Then she ran on. Hiram
Sheldon was the sheriff, and he
lived half a mile straight up the
road.
He was sitting smoking by his
sitting room lamp, and reading!
the county newspaper, when Dot
burst in without knocking and
told her story all in one shaking
breath. He laid down his paper
and took off his glasses and looked
at her.
"Just say that again,” he said;
and by the time Dot had repeated
it he was ready with his answer.
“do home,” he said, in conclu
sion, “and go to sleep if you can.
and don't say a word to Mrs. El
died about the business. It
would just get her roused up.
You can trust me, Dot.”
When Dot went home from
school at noon the next day she
found Cousin Tirzah in a rocking
chair on the porch. And her face
showed most plainly that she was
seriously agitated.
Dot sat down on the top step
and fold«*d her hands and waited.
“Dot,” said Cousin Tirzah, "did
you hear any rumpus about here
last night?”
“Yes'm, I did. I—I was awake;
I didn’t sleep much last night,’’
said Dot. faintly.
"H’m! 1 >o you know how many
people have been here this morn
ing?’’
"No,’’ said Dot.
“Well,*’ said Cousin Tirzah, “all
the neighbors have been here, and
the minister and Dr. Parks. The
house has been pretty nearly full.’’
"Has it?” Dot murmured.
“1 shouldn't have known what
to make of it,” said < 'ousin Tirzah.
"but Hiram Sheldon came first of
all. and he had a story to tell me.
Dot.”
"Did he?” was all Dot could
say.
“Did he! He told me,” said
Cousin Tirzah, “that Durfee Jack-1
son and another man tried to
break into this house last night,
and that lie, with some others,
was there watching for them,
and caught them, and that they
are in the lockup now. And he
said if it had not been foryou. Dot.
hi* would have known nothing
about it.”
“No; he wouldn’t have,” said
Dot.
“Well!” said Cousin Tirzah,
looking hard at Dot’s averted
face; the one cheek she could see
was as red as a jieony.
“Well, what were you doingnear
Mr. Emery's hay barn last night?
You. Dot?" said Cousin Tirzah. in
a gasp of total perplexity.
“< ’ousin Tirzah,” said I >ot, cour
ageously meeting her eyes, “I was
going to the straw ride. I didn't
go to bed. I—1 just thought I'd
go to the straw ride; and I got out
of tin* back window and 1 ran. I
went ’cross lots, because it was
late, and going acrossMr. Emery’s
pasture I heard those men in the
barn, and I got scared and
stopped, and I was so close I heard
what they said. That's how it
happened—that's all.”
"All!” said Cousin Tirzali. Sh< 1
folded her arms and rooked her
foot. Dot believed that she was
waiting to find words strong
enough to express her stern, her
crushing displeasure.
"Cousin Tirzali,” she said. "I
was awful wicked; I know 1 was.”
“Well,” said Cousin Tirzali, "1
had $400 in the house last night.
I was going to take it to I he bank
yesterday but something hin
dered me. Jf Durfee Jackson had
got that money it wouldn't have
been any joke, would it? I'm
afraid, hot, you couldn't have
had that new dross this winter
that I've promised you,” said
Cousin Tirznh. And Dot looked
at her. Somehow her tone was not
exactly what she had braced her
self to meet.
"Cousin Tirzali,” she cried, "I
don’t believe you understand! I
was dreadfully bad. Why, I was
jroing to run away and go on that
straw ride when you told me I
couldn’t.”
“Yes.” said Cousin Tirzah,
looking at the aster bed; “so you
said.”
“And I left the window unlocked
so I could get in when 1 came
home, and if I hadn't found it out
about I Mirfee Jackson, and he had
come—”
“He could have got in without
anv trouble,” said Cousin Tirzah.
"It's a good thing it turned out the
way it did. Dot.”
••But, Cousin Tirzah,” said Dot;
she could hardly believe her ears;
nor her eves. Cousin I irzah was
almost smiling.
“I»ot,” said Cousin Tirzah,“now
answer me. You wanted to go on
that straw ride terribly bad,
didn't you?”
“Awfully bad,’’ said Dot.
"I have never known you to de
ceive me. Dot." said Cousin Tir
zah, thoughtfully. "Never before.
You must have been crazy to go,
or you would never have done it.
Dot, I rather think I ought to
have let you go.”
“Oh, Cousin Tirzah!’’said Dot.
“Yes. I do. I shouldn't won
der if I'd got too many old fogy
notions about girls. It’s been sort
of brought home tome. I should
n’t wonder—Dot,” said Cousin
Tirzah, abruptly, "how would you
like to have a party yourself?
Next week, say?"
“Oh. Cousin Tirzah!" said I>ot
again.
“How would you liko a candy
pull? When I was a girl we
thought there wasn't anything to
beat a candy pull. You can invite
Harlow Seaman and hella Ridge
ley and all the rest, just as many
as you want. What do you say?”
1 )ot said nothing at all. Her lip
quivered and her (-yes brimmed
over with simple joy. She went
and threw her arms around Cous
in Tirzah’s neck and hugged her
tight and gave her a sounding
kiss.—Charleston Morning News.
DEADLY CELLULOID COMB.
Manufactured from Slight Modification
of Gun Cotton.
Attention to the dangers at
tending the use of celluloid toilet
articles is again called by a con
tributor to the Medical Press and
< ’ireular. He writes as follows:
“It has long been known that
dressing combs and other articles
of like nature have been manufac
tured from a modification of gun
cotton. From time to time we have
pointed out the possibility of ac
cident from the use of an article
containing such an ingredient, but
comparatively few cases of acci
dent have hitherto been recorded.
Now it appears that, the original
patent having expired, a vast num
ber of imitation processes have
sprung up and the public are
flooded with combs made from
guncotton compounds by methods
which render them mor<* danger
ous than those prepared under the
original patent. That some re
striction should be placed on its
indiscrimate use was proved by
the recent case of a girl. 22 vears
of who was nufToring from
(••‘Unlitis of the scalp, accom
panied b\ a marked degree of
neisous shock. Ft appeared that
hci head had been set on fire bv
the sudden combustion of a comb
Which slie wore in her hair. Took
ing her father’s dinner one Sun
day, she happened to bend down
before the tire, when thecombsud
denly ignited, and she became en
veloped in flames. Her life was
only spared through the presence
<>f mind of her father, who immedi
ately enveloped her with the
hearth rug. and so extinguished
the conflagration. Obviously,see
ing that the mere storage of gun
cotton is restricted by heavy pen
alties, it is not fair or safe that
makers should be permitted to
place a slightly modified but ac
tively dangerous modification on
t lie market, to be used by a section
of the public who have not the
slightest notion of its composition
and dangers.”
Ths Shortest W»y
out of an attack of
Rheumatism
Neuralgia
Is to use
St-Jacobs Oil
Which affords not only sure relief,
but a prompt cure. It soothes,
subdues, and ends ths suffering.
Price, 25c. and 50c.
\t lit<*h r
The president had an informal reception
in his office recently and a number of visitors
■were presented to him. One lady introduced
herself as from Jacksonville, Fla., and said:
“Mr. President, I have come all this way
just to see you. I have never seen a live
president before.” Mr. Roosevelt seemed
much amused. “Well, well,” he said. "1
hope you don't feel disappointment now that
you have seen one. Lots of people in these
parts go all the way to Jacksonville to see
a live alligator. 1 wonder which kind of a
touriat feel*- the mo*t «old ”
UKTIfSAIDA.
A Tale of Ihe Time of the Caeiara—Df
Malcolm Dearborn, Author
of “Monrl Ardon."
This story covers- an interesting period,
that of the brutal Tiberius C'ae*ar and the
trial and death of Christ. There are two
scenes in which the Saviour ligures, as he
is being led to execution, and the effect his
presence produces on the two chief per
sonages of the story is graphically described.
The hero, Aristarchus, is a Homan noble
of great wealth. His father, Petromus, has
been doomed to death by order of Augustus
Caesar, whom he had unintentionally of
fended. Un his last night on earth, while
l’etromus was looking from the roof of his
palace, he witnessed a strange light in the
heavens, it rose, paused, vibrated, then
slowly disappeared in its course towards
Syria.
\\ rule he was still gating at it, a slave ap
proaches, and announce* to him the birth of
a son. The Roman marvels, and at once as
sociates the wondrous lignt in the heavens
with the birth of his ton. The ligrit, of
course, was the star of Bethlehem, pro.
claiming the birth of Christ, whose influence
over l’etromus' son make* up the main in
cidents ot the story. That night i’etromu*
dies by his own hand to avoid the ignomin
ious death planned for him by Augustus.
Aristarchus, grown to manhood, becomes
d.sgusted with the materialism and vapid
luxury of Home, and is, moreover, involved
in a quarrel with Tiberius during one of the
latter s drunken orgie*. He flies Home, and
turns hast ward in his course. There he
learns of the strange fame of the "Naza
rene,” whom he forwith desires to see. liis
wish is granted by a sight of -lesus as he is
being led to execution. The effect upon the
Roman is intense; its revolutionizes his
whole life.
Tiie heroine, Bethsaida, who gives name
to the story, is a maiden of humble birth, but
of strange character and commanding beau
ty. Her father ha. trained her to lie a danc
ing girl at the court of Pilate. Siie, too, sees
Christ as he is being led to death, and the
effect wrought cause.- her to plan a flight
from the influence of 1’ilate anu his court.
Chance bring* about a meeting between her
and Aristarchus, and their mutual expe
rience* in the encounter with Christ form a
bond between tlie strangely assorted pair,
whose training and environment had been
so foreign to one another.
Tne alternate bursts of tyranny and kindli
ness that distinguish l’ilate. whose love for
his wife, Claudia, despite his infidelity to
her, is iiis one saving trait, make an engag
ing study. Claudia herself will, doubtless,
appeal to many readers a- the most loveable
character in the book. Her justice, religious
sympathy und devotion are well depicted.
Tne tone of the book is that of unquestion
ing belief in the miraculous birth and mis
sion of Christ.
Handsomely bound in Cloth. 12mo., $1.50.
Published bj- the Cl. W. Dillingham com
pany, New \ork.
Ilia ClnaalHratIon.
“Tell me what you eat,” said the wise
guy. “and I’ll tell you what you are.”
“[tats!” ejaculated the scotter.
“Ah!” retored the w. g. “According to
the dope book you are a Chinaman.''—Chi
cago Daily News.
HAPPY WOMEN.
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Buffalo, N. Y.
4