The Okeene Eagle. (Okeene, Okla.), Vol. 6, No. 11, Ed. 1 Friday, December 29, 1899 Page: 3 of 4
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OF THE
EAR*
1a
LAS! ray■' <fme has
nearly come;
I’m weak and weary,
and cold and
numb,
And sad and sour,
and cross and
glum,
And the world looks dark and drear;
I’m short of breath, so I pant and wheeze,
And ahlvar and shake, and cough and
sneeze:
My llrnbs creak mournfully In the breeze—
For X am the poor Old Year.
Twelve months ago I was young and fair;
I ruled the world with a regal air,
And every one welcomed me, here and
there,
Without a frown or a tear.
The boys and girls hurrahed for me,
And I was as happy as happy could be;
The world h: aund was fair to see—
For I was the glad New Year.
The merry thrush and the. bold cuckoo
Gave me a song and a welcome true;
The white puccoon and the violet blue
Peeped slyly Into my face;
The tulip gave her rich perfume,
The larkspur waved' her azure plume,
The red rose opened her velvet bloom,
My royal court to grace.
The brooklet burst Its Icy bond,
The fern uncoiled her greenest fror.d,
The daisy waved her yellow wand,
To give me welcome meet;
And summer brought her glowing days,
Her bearded wheat and golden maize;
The wild bee hummed a song of praise,
And sipped the clover’s sweet.
Then autumn poured her ruddy wine,
And shock the cluster from the vine.
And dropped the needles from the pine,
To scatter In my path;
The milk-weed burst her silky pod,
The partridge piped from the turfy sod.
And queen-of-the-nreadow and goiden-rod,
Bloomed gay In the aftermath.
But now, alas! my time has come;
X’m weak and weary, and cold and numb,
And sour and sad, and cross and glum,
And the world ts dark and drear;
No blossoms spring as I pass along,
No warbler sings me a welcome song;
But the bells ring out a merry ding-dong
To welcome another year.
—Helen Whitney Clark, In Golden Days.
Urcukfast was ready when we got it
safely -under cover, and notwithstand-
ing our impending doom, we fell upon
the ham and fried potatoes and pan-
cakes, and enjoyed our meal immensely.
“Girls,” said auntie, when the last
potato and the last crimpy brown bat-
ter-cake hqd vanished, “I don't want
to dampen your spirits, but there isn't
a chip left, and how we’re going to
cook dinner I don’t see."
“Nett,”said Dora (who was just three
mouths older than 1), "we’ll cook
dinner by the fireplace.”
“Dora,” I said, “you’re gifted. That’s
what we will, ami imagine we’re our
own great-grandmothers and great-
aunts—how lovely!"
“Well, you’ll have to help, miss, and I
doubt if you think it so lovely before
you get through,” returned Dora.
"You'l! be baked a beautiful brown.”
We took an inventory of our stores to
see what there was we could cook by
the fireplace.
“There’s a sparcrib, for one thing,'’
announced Dora. “We’ll hang it up by
a string in front of the fire.”
“Potatoes we can boil by hanging the
kettle on the hook and chain,” said Aunt
Laura.
“And t he sweet potutoes we can roast
in the ashes," 1 added.
“And bake corn in a skillet in the hot
coals." finished Dora.
“Goody," said I, “that’s a fine enough
dinner for a blizzardy day like this. Of
course, nobody'll come."
Hut somebody did come, ns they usu-
ally do when you think they won’t;
anil who of all persons but ltev. Cyrus
Melton! Dora fairly squirmed when
Aunt Laura brought him right, into the
sitting-room, for, of course, she
couldn’t take him anywhere else, unless
she wanted to freeze him. So in he
came, smiling placidly, and there was
the- rib cooking in front of the fire with
a skillet set under to catch the gravy,
and there was Dora, with her face like
a hollyhock, turning a great hoecake
in another skillet, and there was
prodding in the asheswith a long fork
to dig out the sweet potatoes! Not that
it mattered much about me; but some
folks were beginning to observe that
Rev. Cyrus was a trifle more attentive
to Dorn than the fact of her being one
of his flock warranted, and I knew that
in her eyes he was about as near a state
of perfection as a mortal man needed
to be.
lie was just riding out, he ex-
plained, to see old Mrs. Hankins, who
was sick, and had been delayed a lit-
tle by the blizzard and been on the
road quite awhile; he had brought a
what spirits we might It wasn’t more
than two hours uftei he left that
Uncle Jink, a dilapidated old colored
nmn, appeared with u yoke of steers,
which he left in the lane while ho
cume plodding through the snow to
the house.
“Heerd y’all was out o’ wood,” he
grinned, “so I Mowed I’d come an’
snake up a few logs V split fer de
fi’plaee ’n’ whack up some fer dc
eook'n’ stove.”
“It’s very kind of you, indeed." said
Aunt Laura, “for we are in great need
of wood—only I’m afraid I can t paj
you for it to-day, Uncle—”
“Dass all right—duss all right,” in-
terrupted Uncle Jink; “don’t y’all
bod dull ’bout dut—dass all right,” and
ho scuffed away, leaving us a little
mystified, for it was not quite like
Uncle Jink to be so indifferent about
compensation for his good deeds.
“Of course Mr. Melton went and told
him to come, and either paid him or
agreed to if we didn’t,” expounded
Dora, and looked as if she were ready
to fall in a heap.
“It was very good of him if he did,
said Aunt Laura.
“Good—yes; but who wants to bo an
object of charity,” groaned Dora, "es-
pecially—"
“Oh, well, I don’t suppose he’ll
preach about it next Sunday," I said,
consolingly; but Dora wouldn't cheer
up very much. Still, it was very com-
fortable to have plenty of wood, and
I felt grateful to the good man for
instigating Uncle Jink to come to our
assistance.
Of all the .165 days of that year the
three hundred and sixty-fifth was the
most dismal at Maple Knoll. It opened
with a drizzling, soaking rain, much
more depressing than the blizzard
from which it evoluted; the kind that
dampens your spirits in spite of all
the philosophy you can bring to bear
against it. The sky was a dismal gray
waste without a slit of light. Aunt
Laura had a racking neuralgia in her
face. Dora had been dreaming about
charity and wood all night. As for
me, I had a little trouble of my own
which popped up just now more ag-
gressively than ever. I never had but
one lover (I never wanted but one),
and he was a poor young man who
had gone to the frozen Alaskan re-
gions with the avowed intention of
making his fortune and coming back
to share it with me, rebuild the old
house into a stately mansion and take
care of Aunt Laura and Dora, which
was quite proper; for, you see, I had
been gathered into the family when
ri-: WERE always
getting out of
wood at Maple
Knoll.
It was the big,
fireplace in the-
sitting-room that
ate up all the fuel
we could get. 1
never saw such an
Insatiable monster. Yet we couldn’t
make up our minds to close it up and
put up a stove instead, because of its
radiant cheerfulness. How jolly it was,
just when the first touch of a winter’s
twilight stole on, to pile fresh hickory
logs on the old andirons and watch the*
flames dash up the chimney’s throat
and light the whole room with a mellow
crimson flame.
But the wood! Of course, we three
women couldn’t very well go out and
chop and haul it, and our funds did
not always warrant hiring large quanti-
ties laid in, besides which the neigh-
boring help we could get was not very
dependable on at all times.
Maple-Knoll was a lovely place, but
didn’t bring in much revenue, worked,
as we were obliged to have it done, by
any Tom, Dick or Harry we could pick
up; and the old house was picturesque
—but leaky as a sieve. Still, we man-
aged very well about everything else,
but for fuel we were obliged to depend
on getting a load hauled now and then
when some neighbor had the time and
inclination to undertake it.
December though it was, we had had
a streak of regular Indian-summery
weather—a mild atmosphere inter-
woven with a soft smokiness. Our stove
wood had run out, and the neighbors
had all been too busy hauling cordwood
to attend to our needs. Our chip yard
was in good condition, however, and
we had been levying on it for cooking
purposes, using what little wood we
had for the fireplace, as we didn’t need
much, and had gone jogging along in
an easy, grasshoppery way, as if the
pleasant weather were going to last all
winter.
We woke up the morning of December
30 to find the world nearly lost in a
most beautiful blizzard of whirling
snow. Not only was the outward world
a white desolation, but there were lit-
tle drifts all over the inside of the
house.
“Dora,” I shouted, bouncing out of
bed and landing with one foot in
snow bank, “how many chips did we
bring in last night?”
“About enough to cook breakfast
with,” Dora answered, with the calm-
ness of despair, as she shook a little pv.ff
of snow out of her shoe. I hopped out
of my drift and rushed to the window.
“Meantime, let’s go down and make
6, fife and get a good warm-up if we
do perish afterward.”
"We’d better save the sitting-room
wood until after breakfast,” counseled
DoTa, “and just have a fire in the cook-
stove till then, and eat in the kitchen.”
“Sure,” said I, “that’ll be a lark.”
In spite of the dismal outlook we had
&• cheerful fire and a cozy kitchen when
Aunt Laura came down, and then while
she began to prepare breakfast Dora
and I did ourselves up like Laplanders
and plunged out into the blizzard to
feed and milk the cows, after which we
braved the winter's blast long enough
to transport my treasure stump to the
house, which we did partly by lugging
and partly by rolling it over and over.
stopped falling now, and the air felt
crispy ami bracing. The sun wasn’t
shining yet, but there was a mellow
look in the sky, as if it meant to pop
out any minute.
New Year’s calling was not, much in
vogue in our rural district; still, it was
Aunt Laura's way to make a red-letter
day n/ the opening one of the year, and
always to lie prepared for any stray
•alter who might chance to appear. She
liud n,cheerful fire in the parlur, a plen-
tiful supply of coffee am! cake on hand,
and we all put on our pretty house
dresses and prepared to be happy
whether anyone.eume or not.
At half past nine a pleasant melody
of sleigh bells jingled along, and the
cutest little cutter stopped at our gate,
and here came Rev. Cyrus Melton smil-
ing up the walk. We were mighty
thankful for the contrast between this
call and his last one; but such is the
perversity of man. 1 imagined ho
looked a little disappointed at not be-
ing ushered into the cooking regions
ngnin. Still, he smiled very good-na-
turedly, with those jolly brown eyes of
ills, as he fished something out of his
pocket and handed it to me.
“Miss Nettie,” he said, “I felt it.in my
bones that you couldn’t get. any mail
up here on the hill all yesterday, nnd I
dropped in at the post office aslcame
by this morning, and found you this.”
Maybe 1 didn't know what it was,
even before I saw the handwriting on it,
and perhaps 1 didn’t fly to get it and
scamper out to tJie big fireplace nnd
curl down beside it on a little wooden
stool to read my letter all alone. Frank
hadn’t made a fortune, he wrote me,
and he didn’t know as we covld huve a
big mansion built, but he had dug
enough gold to repair the old house and
make us all comfortable, and he was on
his way home that blessed minute to
metamorphose Mnple Knoll into the
finest little farm in the county, take
care of auntand Doraund (incidentally)
marry me.
When I got back to earth again Mr.
Melton had taken Dora off in his sleigh
for a ride, so auntie and I had a little
jollification of our own, and I forgot all
about lunch time. It didn’t matter,
though, for when the sleighing couple
came back they didn’t seem to know
much of anything. I fell on Dora in the
hall a«d told all about Frank’s letter,
and she hugged me black in the face
and said she was tremendously pleased,
but lie wouldn’t have to take care of her,
because that was going to be attended
to by Rev. Cyrus, who was the dearest
man in the world, but crazy ns a loon,
because he confessed that he had fallen
more in love with her than ever the day
he came and found her baking hoecake
in the fireplace.
We celebrated that night by having
the biggest fire of the season in the old
fireplace, which behaved splendidly,
and we sat up till all kind of hours,
Aunt Laura, Dora and I, with no light
but the mellow crimson and gold bril-
liance of that big old black cavern,
roasting nuts and red apples, talking
about the new paths opening before us,
and telling each other how grateful and
thankful we ought to be for this happy
opening day of the new year.—Hattie
Whitney, in Farm and Fireside.
NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS.
If Sincerely Made They Arc a Help to
’ night Character, Although
Sometimes Broken.
THERE WAS DORA WITH HER FACE LIKE A HOLLYHOCK.
bag of oats for his horse, and had
come up through the side lane and
taken the liberty to put the animal
in our barn to eat his oats, while he
himself ran in to see how we all fared
this inclement day, etc., etc. I slid
out while he was thus discoursing and
rushed to the parlor with a very for-
lorn hope of finding a stray stick or
two left over there, making a fire
and getting him into the parlor while
we finished the dinner. The hope died
as I poked my head into the arctic des-
olation of our best room. It was on
the east side, where the spiteful wind
had been battering at it all night,
searching out a hundred crevices
about windows and door to hurl the
fine, powdery snow through. There
were drifts, varying in size, on the pi-
ano, on the chairs, and a dainty white
powdering all over the carpet, which
the wind had puffed in under the door.
You could fairly feel the gale whisk-
ing about your ears. There wasn’t
a scrap of wood nor a chip in the
wood box. Relinquishing a wild idea
ol chopping up a parlor chair or two
to make a fire of, I scooted back to
the sitting-room chilled to the bone.
Dora, putting as bold a face upon
the situation as possible, was bringing
ir dishes from the dining-room and
setting the table right under the eyes
of the minister, who was • chatting
away as serenely as if he hadn’t
driven us all frantic by his ill-timed
call. Aunt Laura had levied on her
cellar goodies and produced preserved
quinces, apple jelly, pickled peaches
nnd chow-chow, so the dinner wasn’t
so frightful. The only thing I was
ashamed of was the corn cakes; they
were so big and clumsy,, and Dora had
crumbled the edges in turning them.
But that good man seemed to think
we had a banquet, and even the corn
cakes didn’t go begging so far as he
was concerned.
We all made merry over our predic-
ament as we told him how it hap-
pened, and he joked aboi)t it, too, but
shook his head a little, and said it
oughtn’t to go on that way. He pro-
I was left a small orphan, in Uncle
John’s time, and he and Aunt Laura
had not made an atom of difference
between Dora and me in their love
and care. But now it had been so long
since I had heard from Frank I
couldn’t help being afraid he had
frozen to death or been buried in a
snowslide. And this dreadful rainy
day I couldn’t even have the satisfac
tion of going or sending to town for
the mail, if there should possibly be
any news.
Dora and I had an unwritten law
that the more downcast we felt the
jollier we should force ourselves to be.
To-day I think we degenerated into
silliness in our efforts to be cheer-
ful. But a lot of smaller troubles
followed each other so persistently—
such as the refusal of the cook stove
to draw, the falling of the light bread
in consequence, a slip in the mud on
Dora’s part, etc., etc.—that when, to
cap the climax that evening, our be-
loved fireplace smoked sulkily and re-
lentlessly, we felt that we might as
well wind up the year by going to bed
at eight o’clock.
When we were all snuggled down
and the lights wTere out I could have
cried just out of low spirits, but I
wouldn’t. I knew God could see far-
ther ahead than we could, and I put
everything into His hands and went
to sleep.
I slept SO soundly that I was greet-
ed the next morning by a savory,
sagey scent of frying sausages com-
ing up the little back stairs before I
fairly got back from the slumber
world. Dora was down in the kitchen
singing “Lightly Row” over the bis-
cuits, and looking as fresh as a peach,
with her rosy cheeks and clear gray
eyes. And the stove was drawing
beautifully. And Aunt Laura came
down without a speck of neuralgia
and feeling as spry as a girl, to finish
breakfast, while Dora and I went forth
to do the milking. And behold! the
sopping rain had turned into a love-
ly, soft snow in the night; not a bliz-
zardy snow like the one before the
eeeded upon his errand soon after din- rain, that blew in everywhere, but a
ner, and we went about our work with I gentle, fine, thick powder. It had
ou
return this coupon and three one-cent
stamps to the J. C. Ayer Co., Lowell,
Mass., you will receive in return a copy
of the 20th Century Year Book.
This is not an ordinary almanac, but
a handsome book, copiously illustrated,
and sold for 5 cents on all news-stands.
(We simply allow you the two cents
you spend in postage for sending.)
Great men have written for the Year
Book. In it is summed up the prog-
ress of the 19th Centurv. In each
important line of work and thought the
greatest living specialist has recounted
the events and advances of the past
century and has prophesied what we
may expect of the next.
Among the most noted of our contributors are: Secretary of Agricul-
ture Wilson, on Agriculture; Senator Chauncey M. Depew, on Politics;
Russell Sage, on Finance; Thomas Edison, on Electricity; Dr. Madison
Peters, on Religion; General Merritt, on Land Warfare; Admiral Hich-
bom, on Naval Warfare; “ Al ’’ Smith, on Sports, etc.; making a complete
review of the whole field of human endeavor and progress.
Each article is beautifully and appro-
priately illustrated, and the whole makes
an invaluable book of reference, un-
equaled anywhere for the money.
Address, J. C. Ayer Co., Lowell, Min.
New Year’s resolutions are so often
made the target for cheap jokes by
cheap critics as to create the impres-
sion that such resolutions are never
kept and never ought to be made. The
criticism is unjust, its logic is false,
its effect pernicious. A recent preacher
brought out the true idea in a sermon
upon Peter’s pledge of devotion to his
master, even though all others should
desert Him. Simon did not yield to
temptation because of his earnest as-
surance, but in spite of it. It had been
said that hell was paved with good res-
olutions. If that was true it was cer-
tainly the best thing about that place.
We must resolve before we do. Right
resolutions sincerely made are a help to
right character, even if by distress of
opposing forces some of them are not
kept. Peter’s faith did not finally fail,
and very likely he had more faith and
more strength because he failed once
and so learned his weak point. It is a
good thing, then, with the thoughtful-
ness belonging to the outlook of a new
year, to desire and decide and declare
that we will live truer, nobler lives.
Making the resolve, not lightly or
boastfully, but seriously and expecting
the Divine help, we shall succeed in part
if not in full. He whom we call Mas-
ter and Lord is praying for us that our
faith fail not. The man who resolved
and failed and tried again became^a
strong man. What he wrote to his
brethren in the first century was doubt-
less an echo of his own experience, and
it will be fulfilled even to the twen-
tieth century: “After we have suf-
fered awhile, God will make you per-
fect, stablish, strengthen, settle you.’
Congregationalism
DIO HE MEAN IT f
SAVE
YOUR
STAR
TIN
TAOS
“Star” tin tags (showing small stars printed on nnder side
of tag), “HorseShoe,” “GoodLuok,” “CrossBow,”
and “Drummond” Natural Leaf Tin Tags are of equal value in
securing presents mentioned below, and may be assorted.
Every man, woman and child can find something on the list
that they would like to have, and can have
TAGS.
1 Match Box............................ Ijj
5 Knife, one blade, good steel......... *?
8 Scissors, 4H Inches....................
4 Child’s Set, Knife, Fork and Spoon 84
6 Halt and Pepper Set, one each, quad-
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8 French Briar Wood Pipe............. 84
7 Razor, hollow ground, fine Englwh
....................................... 40
8 Butter Knife, triple plato, best ^
8 Sugar Jhsl'll triple plate, best qnai.. #0
10 Stamp Box, sterling silver.......... 70
11 Knife, “Keen Kutter,’’ two blades.. 74
18 Butcher Knife, "Keen Kntter,” 8-ln
blade.,... •••••» .... *5
18 Shears, "Keen Kutter," 8-inch...... 74
14 Nut Set. Cracker and « Picks, silver
plated. ............,,,, so
14 Base Ball. "Association,” best qnal.100
10 Alarm Clock, nickel.............• •••140
17 Six Genuine Rogers’ Teaspoons, best
plated goods........................ 140
18 Watch, nickel, stem wind and set.. 800
M Carvers, good steel, buckhom
handles..............................800
80 Six Genuine Rogers’ Table Spoons,
best plated goods....................840
>1 Six eech, Knives and Forks, buck-
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18 Six each, Genuine Rogers’Knives
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VAOI.
18 Clock. 8-day, Calendar, Thermom-
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14 Gun case, leather, no better made. 400
84 Revolver, automatic, double action,
82 or .78 caliber......................
80 Tool Set, not playthings, but real
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87 Toilet 8et. decorsted porcelain,
very handeome ....................
28 Remington Rifle No,4, 88or 88cal . 800
» Watch, starling ailvar.fun Jeweled 1000
80 Dress Suit Case, leather, handsome
and durable.............. 10*°
81 Sewing Machine, flrat clam, with
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82 Revolver. Colt’s, 38-caliber, blued
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88 Rifle, Colt's, 18-shot, 2B-cellber.....l400
84 Guitar (Washburn), rosewood. In-
laid .......... ss.seiMw
84 Mandolin, very handsome..........8000
80 Winchester Repeating Shot Gun,
18 gauge,
..'8000
87 Remington, double-barrel, ham- _
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88 Bicycle, standard make, ladles or
gents................................*»
88 Shot Gun, Remington, double bar-
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40 Regina Mnslo Box, 14X inch Disc. .4000
THE ABOVE OFFER EXPIRES NOVEMBER 30th, 1900.
Plain ” Star ’’ Tin Tags (that Is. Star tin tags with no small
Until!. I Plain ” Star ’’ Tin Tags (tnat is. mar tin tags wiin no uni'ii
bpOCOI NOTICB ! (tars printed on under side^if ta^h are not good for preseaft,
hundred, If received by us on nr t^fnrc 4^Hrch_y£t_ti800:_
CWBBAR IN MIND that a dime’s worth of
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will last longer and afford more pleasure than a dime** worth of any
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i; CURES WHtKt ILL tLSt r«w,
I Beet Cough Syrup. Taatea Good. Ca
1 in time. Sold by druggists.
WHEN VRITIXD TO ADVERTISER*
please state that you law the Advertise*
meat la this puper.
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Chapman, H. C. The Okeene Eagle. (Okeene, Okla.), Vol. 6, No. 11, Ed. 1 Friday, December 29, 1899, newspaper, December 29, 1899; Okeene, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc1171510/m1/3/: accessed March 29, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.