The Indian Sentinel. (Tahlequah, Indian Terr.), Vol. 9, No. 24, Ed. 1 Thursday, November 24, 1898 Page: 1 of 4
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TH E INDIAN SENT INE L
a
VOLl'ME 9.
TAHLKQtAH, INDIAN TERRITORY,
RSI)AY, NOVEMBER 24, 18t>8.
NUMBER 24.
r *
I
I
*a ...
HI3N I hear the
.iKeiJ h. xton
Rlr K the sweet
Thank a g I v I n g
chimes,
Come to me from out my boy hood
Gllmpsi s of the vanished times;
And 1 Ion*;, with memories tender,
'Neath the autumn's azure dome.
Once again to pass Thanksgiving
With the old folks at home
There'll ho feasting In the mansions
KIsIiik high tw i>.t sea and sea,
Wit and Beauty will be rulers,
Hut they will not rule for ine;
For my thoughts, fore't-r unfettered,
Like a truant lad will roam.
And once more I'll spend Thanksgiving
With the old folks at home.
I can j*oe the olden table
As I saw it long ago.
When the children sat around it.
All like ninepins in a row.
Though the years of youth have vanished
Like the storiii-beleuKUered foam,
I can see that dear old table
And the old folks at home.
They are sleeping where the flowers
Bloom upon the hillside fair-
Where the gentle, crested songsters
Fill with Joy the scented air.
There Is many a sweet Thanksgiving
Kept beneath the sturry dome;
But I love the ont-s connected
With the old folks at home.
When the harvests had been gathered
And November's robes were Kold.
What a day then was Thanksgiving,
O, the stories that we told!
Still they bind me gently, gently.
To the scenes in memory's tome.
And my heart, th|s dear Thanksgiving,
Greets the old folks at home.
Over all the land we honor
Let the happy feasts be spread,
Let the gay and Joyous living
I'rown with love the cherished dead;
Many a h<-.irt will beat with rapture
'Neath November's azure dome,
For affection . towns Thanksgivings
With the old folks at homt
—T. C. Harbaugh, In Ohio Farmer.
lliw
JO-MOKUOW will be
a dubious Thanks-
g i v i ti g," M a r y
Nor.h said, sadly.
"Oh, no, it won't!" her sister Susan
rejoined, sarcastically. "Let me enu-
merate all that we've had to be thank
fill fcr during thi' Mast year. To begin
with, our stepfather died—and left us
a large legacy of debts."
"01., now, Susan, don't!"
"And. then, we found that he had
not only mortgaged our dear old home,
but had failed to pay the interest on it
all these years, and that now—because
we can't rnise the money to pny it—
the mortgage is to be foreclosed at
once, and we will be turned out—for
the town to take care of, I suppose,
since mother is about helpless with
rheumatism and it. takes all my time
to care for her, and to keep us with
clothes on our backs. And now that
the Grosvenors have suddenly decided
to go south, and no longer want you
for nursery governess—the cup of our
tliankfulnesr, is full, I should say—and
full lo runnirg over, too!"
M0h, don't, Susan, please don't!"
Mary had been pleading. "It is all so
dreadfully sad and hard for us; but
still it might be even worse."
"Worse!" ejaculated Susan.
"Yes, worse," repeated Mary. "Why.
suppose—just suppose it had been
mother who died," her sweet voice
trembled pitcously. "Or. suppose, now
that she is so helpless, you and I were
not so perfectly strong and well. And
then if she can keep so bright and
cheerful with all that she is suffering.
I'm sure we ought to keep up bravely
—if only for her sake. And, Susan, it's
a foolish thought mnybe, but I can't
help thinking that now—when every-
thing looks so dark and hopeless to
us—daylight must be at hand. Per-
hnps I shall get something else to do
very soon—and mother may get bet-
ter. ro that she can be around again—
and, anyway, God hasn't forgotten us
In our trouble—and. I'm sure. lie will
not let us suffer needlessly."
"You're a queer girl," Susan said,
shortly. "I'm not made on the 'thank-
ful-things-are-no-worse' plan, myself.'
"Wtll, I'm glad I am." said Mary,
quite brightly, now. ,4I seem to be
constructed after the dear old Mother
Goose fashion. You know she says:
" 'For every evil under the sun
There Is a remedy or there Is none.
If there be one, try and find It—
If there be none, never mind It!'
And, now, I must run along; and I'm
going to speak quite frankly to Mrs
Grosvenor to-day, for if she knows just
how we are situated perhaps she will
Interest herself to find me another
plac*. I'll do anything, go anywhere,
if only I can earn enough to keep
mother and you comfortable — even
though the dear old home must go."
Mary was now wrapped in her shal>-
by cloak, and was pulling on her mit-
tens.
"It's an awful day," said Susan,
mournfully; "and dreadfully slipper) ;
look out for yourself."
"I will! Kiss mother for me, when
slie awakes;" and in another minute
Mary was on her way, and battling
bravely along against the driving
snow and the fierce north wind.
The morning train that day had
brought a stranger to this quiet town,
lie was rather a grim-looking per-
sonage, and wa* apparently in a very
bad humor. It had been clear when h<
left '.lie city in the early morning,
and he found himself landed—uin-
brellaless in a driving storm when he
reached Hillsboro'. That hdll an-
noyed him, and his first thought was
to take a train right back to town
But when on inquiry he found thai
there would be no return train until
the one he had originally intended to
take, late in the afternoon, he de-
cided to go on .and get his disagree-
able business over with and done with.
Thin he had found that there was
no conveyance to be had at that for-
saken station, and no telephone con-
nection wilh any stable, and that there
was nothing f( r him to do but to push
forwarl on foot through tin storm,
which he finally did in an ever-increas-
ing ill-humor.
He had but a mile to go—the man
at the station had told him, and the
road was straight, so he could not
miss the small, white cottage, just this
side of the covered wooden bridge.
But the road had seemed to stretch
out interminably, and the snow and
freezing street combined to make
walking more difficult at every step.
So there was not often a man in a
worse humor than this man was, when
the low, white cottage he was seeking
at last came into sight. And now, as
he suddenly hastened his footsteps, he
somehow slipped and fell heavily,
striking his head and doubling his left
arm under him. But he made no mur-
mur at this misadventure, but lay still
and quite unconscious on the ground.
When he again opened his eyes, he
was on the bed in a small, neat room;
but all that he thought of at first was
th'at his head was paining him ter-
ribly. while his arm was hurting him
even more. Some one whom he could
not 3ee was fussing with his head and
making the pain still worse. He felt
so desperately cross and ill that he
impatiently ordered the nnseen med-
dler to leave him and his head alone.
"I beg your pardon." said a pleas-
ant voice, "but it's a bad cut, and il
should be dressed at once I'm per
fectly competent to do it, but your
arm will have to wait until the doctor
comes."
"\Vhat'< the matter with my con
founded arm?" He tried to move it,
and groaned outright with the pain.
"It's broken. I'm afraid; but the doc
tor will be here to set it soon."
Then the hapless stranger fell tr
rating the place, the storm and his
accident so soundly, that another
voice, from another as yet unseen in-
dividual. spoke up in sharp rebuke:
"Aren't- you ashamed of yourself to
talk so—when we're doing our best to
help you!"
"Oh, hush, Susan," broke in the
pleasant voice. "He's suffering dread
fully; he really don't know what he'i
saying."
"Yes, I do!" said the stranger, gruff-
ly. "an ! I beg your pardon; but you've
been hurting me like the deuce!"
"Ah, here's the doctor." said, the
pleasant >oice in a tone of relief. And
then the stranger found himself trans-
ferred into the skillful hands of the
professional—whose treatment of his
wounds was much more rigorous than
thnt of the deft and gentle fingers he
had railed against but now.
When at last his head had been ban-
daged. and his arm had been set. the
physician gave some brief instructions
to his new patient. He would have to
remain where he was for several day3
and must keep very quiet, on account
of the wound in his head.
"But I must return to town to-day
the stranger said, peremptorily. "I
have an engagement fcr to-morrow—
and Thanksgiving dinners are not to
be put off!"
"All right, go." said the doctor,
"and the consequences will be brain
fever."
The stranger was silent for a mo-
ment. Then he said, shortly: "I see
that I must submit. But how did this
thing happen? Where am I? And
who was fusfing with me until you
came?"
"You slipped on the icy path. Miss
Mary North saw you fall, and when
she reached you you were insensible.
She ran to get help. Fortunately it
happened within a few yards of her
home, and she and her sister together
mnnaged to carry you In; and they
must have found you a heavy load!
Then Mary ran to my house—full
quarter of a mile away—and left word
for me to come here as soon as I got
home. I found her working over you,
and your scalp was all ready for the
stitches when I came. She's a clever
girl, wag studying to be a nurse, but
unfortunately the money gave out.
and she couldn't go on. She had to
turn nursery governess, instead."
"And the other, the sharp one, who's
she?"
"Tfie elder sister, £usan. ner tongue
is sharp—but her heart's all right—
and she's seen trouble enough to turn
sweet grapes sour. That's nil the fam-
ily left now, except the mother, crip-
pied with rheumatism, poor soul. Well,
then, I'll tell them you are to be on
their hands here for a day or two.
I'll see you again, toward night, and
brinq- you some things you will need,
until you can get back to town. Any-
thing I can do for you? Any message
yon want to send?"
The stranger dictated a telegram,
explaining his detention to a mem-
ber of a well-known firm in the city
When the doctor h.ard the name,
he looked up in surprise. "Then you
came here from them—about the
mortgnge. I suppose?"
"I did—coufound the entire busi-
ness!"
"H'm," said the doctor, and went
on writing nt the stranger's dictation.
The signature was also a surpris •
to the doctor. "Willard Blackwell!
Why, then, you are the head of the
firm yourself!"
"1 am—is there anything strange
about that?"
"Oh. no!" said the doctor; but in-
voluntarily he sighed, and to him-
self he added: "Poor thii.gs, poor
thing"!"
Another telegram was written to
Mr. Blackwcli's friends, to explain his
nforced absence from their dinner-
party on the morrow, and then the
loctor left him, and Blackwell set-
tled himself in grim endurance of the
vils from which he could not es-
ape.
By and by the door was softly
opened, and, through his half-closed
s, he saw a pretty girl looking in
upon hi in.
Hush, he's asleep—I'm glad of
that," she said; and, from her plea^
ant voice he knew her to be# Mary
North. Then she drew back, and the
door was quietly closed.
But the next moment he heard "ner
voice again, and so plainly that h<?
thnight she must be in the room, al-
though he had certainly seen the door
lose upon her. He opened his eye*
and looked about him curiously; anil
at last he saw that the room he was
in was connected with the one adjoin-
ing it—where the speakers were—by
an uncovered stovepipe hole.
The voice of Susan spoke up sharp-
ly: "Here's anothir thing to be thank
fill for! To think of it being Willard
Blackwell—of all persons in '.he world!
If I had known that, he might have
bad humor this morning. As you
could plainly see I had been—well—
ui>j*t. And thank you for your kind
net* in loaning me these things. Could
1 nsk another favor of you ir*w?"
Blackwell spoke *ith a curious,
anxious diffidence. v,t oecuis *o me
that these—these Ifjnd ladies may not
be entire!'- for r\v sudden
descent u —ami. to-morrow
being Tha. you know—well,
I thought ti. .aaps they might al-
low me to supply toe table, for one
thing, while 1 am with them — and
would you mind explaining to them
that ! would like to do so? And then
is there any place fn the village from
where you could send them in a g< oil.
fat turkey, and plenty of fruit and
vegetables, and an; t hing else you think
they might like? I'd be no end
obliged and grateful to you and you
don't think they'd b« ofTt nded.doyouV
I'm sucli a duffer, and I've made such
a bad impression to start with, thut 1
must depend on yovto nt Ip me out."
The doctor had <! at him in ut-
ter amazement; buf; tl.« ir eyes met,
he nodded and smiled; and. muttering
his thanks. Blackwell thrust a ••oil
of bank notes into his hand.
"He's not a bad fellow, after all!"
the doctor said, triumphantly, to him-
self; and presently the matter was all
arranged and the good doctor went re-
joicing on his way.
But as soon ns Blackwell was clone
again, strange and liscoinforting fan-
ties swarmed through his mind. Would
not this seem to his hostess merely a
selfish man of the world's discourte-
ous protest against the frugal fare
which was all that they had been
able to set before him? And he seemed
m
1H8 HEAD BANDAGED AND HIS ARM IN A SLING
died outside there—I never would have
lifted my hand to carry him in here!"
"Oh. Susan, yes, you would!"
"Indeed. I wouldn't! And, after all
those awful letters he's written to
mother; now he has come here just
to turn ufrout. You saw how ugly and
cross he was—we can't expect one
grain of kindness at his hands."
"I shouldn't ask it;" and here Mary's
pleasant voice grew sad. "But it's a
matter of business, Susan, and we
mustn't blame him for it. We owe
all that money; we can't pay it; so the
mortgage is to be foreclosed, and we
must go. He knows nothing about
its always having been our home, and
that all this trouble has come about
without our knowledge. It's not ills
fault that we must go. I only wish
I knew where we were to take poor
mother, and how we could make it
comfortable for her."
"On nothing a year!" supplemented
Susan. "Yes, und if that selfish Mrs.
Grosvenor hadn't decided to go off to
the south, at a moment's notice, and
throw ycu out of your position, we
needn't have worrier .bout that," she
went on. "And now she doesn't even
pay you what she owes you."
"But she will, Susan. She said she
would send me a check next week."
"Next week—when we need it now!
We're in a fine fix, truly! It was bad
enough before; but now that we are
saddled with thisgrumpy,horrid, cross
old man—"
The involuntary eavesdropper start-
ed suddenly—for in spite of a few gray
hairs upon his temples. Willard Black-
well had never thought of himself ns
old before—though grumpy and horrid
and cross he most certainly had been.
"And our bitterest enemy!" the
sharp voice went on. "lie will expect
all sorts of luxuries, I suppose; and we
haven't but a few cents left in the
house; and not a thing to set before
him but porridge and pork and bread
—without butter! And I will not run
any further in debt."
"But your bread is delicious,
Susan; and I'm sure he's welcome to
the best we have."
"And he was to go to a swell Thanks-
giving dinner ir. the city, to-morrow,
doctor said! ITe'll have to give thanks
here, on very different fare, and, for
that part, I'm almost glad!"
"Oh, my goodness, Susan, look!"
"For pity's sake, what's the matter
now?"
"The stove-pipe hole is uncovered,"
Mary cried, tragically; "and he can
hear every word!"
"Serve him right if he had! But you
said he was sound asleep."
The hole was quickly covered, and
Willard Blackwell heard no more. But
the various new sensations he had sud-
denly experienced gave him sufficient
food for thought.
When the doctor came back at dusk
l.e found a remarkable change had
taken place in his grumpy patient,
whose gruffress had now entirely van-
ished.
"I* beg your pardon, doctor, for my
j to hear Susan's shrewd interpreta ion
of his action, and her scornful epithet
of "Pig!"
His dinner and supper on that event-
ful day had certainly been meager
enough, though they were daintily
scried by Mary herseu'; and his break-
fast, next morning, was frugal, too—
but not so the Thanksgiving dinner
That was a beautifiri and bountiful re-
past deliciously cooked, and set out
by Susan and Mary, And Mrs. North
was brought to the table in her roll-
ing (hair; and WillamJ Blackwell left
his room, for the first time, to take his
place at the table with the family.
He looked so soldierly and handsome
with his head bandaged and his arm
in a sling, that even Mary was sur-
prised, ar.d Susan certainly would
never have recognized him as the
"grumpy, horrid, cross old man"
whom she hud expected to see.
That Mrs. North had guessed his er-
rand, he knew at once, by the way her
voice trembled and broke as she tried
to speak to him.
Susan was regarding him sternly—
she could not for a moment forget
that he was their "bitterest enemy."
But Mary's eyes met his, and their pa-
thetic wistfulness went suddenly to
his heart.
He took Mrs. North's frail, white
hand and bent over it. "Excuse me for
speaking of it now," he said, "but you
don't understand my intentions in the
leas*. (He had notf understood them
himself until thai. Very moment—
when he seemed to read them in
Mary's eyes.) I be| you not to fear
that I will ever do'anything to take
from you the home which opened its
hospitable doors to the wounded
stranger. I assure you, everything
can be arranged—without embarrass-
ing you in the least."
"God bless you. sir!" was all the
frail little woman ettild find words to
say. But Blackwell, looking up, met
Mary's eyes again, and now they were
luminous like stars. And he thought
he heard her murmnr: "An angel un-
awares!"
Thty took their places In silence,
and reverently bent their heads:
"For the assurance we have just re-
ceived. O Lord, we are truly thankful!"
breathed Susan, and though it was not
nt all what she had meant to say, it
was i good and sufficient grace.
For eight days Blackwell was a pris
oner in thnt small white home. And
when the doctor gave him leave to go
back to his own world, he left there
with regret.
On the last day. he suddenly osked
Mary what her first impression of him
had been.
"I thought you were quite the
crossest man I had ever seen!" she
said, laughing.
"And—and old. toe, I suppose?" he
ventured, doubtfully.
"Well, yes—quite middle-aged, and
venerable! I never was so surprised
ns when you walked in to dinner on
Thanksgiving dav*—for th* 'cross old
fellow' we had talked about hud
tirelv disappeared."
"And in his stead?" he questioned,
eagei ly.
Aug Mary smiled; though she only
said; "Yourself!"
Blackwell carried away with him the
consummation of the most thorough-
ly unbusiness-like business transae
tion of his life—but. with it. the mem-
ory cf the loveliest pirl's face that he
liin' (ver seen, transfigured now with
happiness and gratitude. \nd he also
carried with him the firm determina
tion which, in a year's time, was hap-
pily carried out—of utterly ctTacing
that miserable first jmprevsion from
eve. Susan's unelastio mind, and of
winning sweet Mary North to be his
wife. — Judith Spencer, in Ladies'
World, New York.
OUR THANKSGIVING DAY.
A 4■ rtiti«l ('aslant Which Hit* llrrn He-
Iljtloiialy- ki'pl Sluee li* Institu-
tion 1 > I lie I'llifrliii 1'atlierK.
There is no country in the world
lha celebrates Thanksgiving daj us
our own.
Fi m the time the Pilgrim fathers
landid and instituted this festival, it
has been religiously kept. In their
poverty and hurtl labor, when cultivat-
ing the sterile soil of New England,
they felt a deep sense of gratitude
when the stasou for gathering the
crops arrivtd, and a day for thanking
the liiver of all good was set uside.
Even the ancient Hebrews went up
to ,1« rusalcm at the harvest season to
worship in the lioly temple—a onee-n-
yea. festival, and one to correspond
with our Thanksgiving.
The most beautiful feature of the
day apart from the real meaning is the
recognition of family ties—a holiday
for the home coming, the greeting of
the children and grandchildren all un-
der the paternal roof, the social cluit.
the exchanging of experiences, the
games of children all combine to
make it a day of social pleasure.
Then let memory linger around the
Thanksgiving table laden with good
things—the turkey, ducks, chicken
pies, to say nothing of the plum pud
dings, mince pies, nuts, fruit, etc
Many and sweet are the recollection?
of such occasions, and bright and
strong stands out the moving factor
of ii all—the mother, loved and hon-
ored-she il is who loves to gather to-
gether her cvvn nround her and thinks
no labor too great to give them pleas-
tir°, The home blessed by n gootl
mother ha« cause to keep a grand
Thanksgiving, not only to praise God
for a! 1 His bounty to the body, but for
n nt 11! greater Blessing. n mother who
mini ^ters to both body and soul.
Would that all of our readers could
gather around them on this Thanks-
giving day all their loved ones, and
unite with grateful henrts in giving
thanks for all the blessings which art'
theft*.—Atlanta Constitution.
COLONIAL CORN FESTIVALS.
I*lea«ant Mnuorlci !li*«-i*Mcil by Sto«
rlea of Tlmnkni(lvInic liny Mer-
r> ma kini* on the Farm.
Writing on the old-time eorn-husk-
ing festival, as a form of Thanksgiving
merriment, in the Woman's Home
Companion, Hezekiah Butterworth
says:
"At one of these corn festivals,
given for a local charity in a New Eng-
land city, a day was allotted to the
husking and the thanksgiving stories
of eolonial days, and I was asked to
prest nt some account of old huskings
and to arrange some of the old legends
en tableau, in the spirit and coloring
of the past. My mind turned to set
ties, chimney -corners, red earn of
corn, pumpk'ns. grent barns and cribs,
frosty airs and the full hunter's moon
I can seem to see those harvest seasons
now as I used to know them with their
mellowing splendors and joyous farm
life, and it is always a pleasure to re-
peat the husking tales as they coine
back to me. as well as I can; but no one
can tell them as did the old-time
natural story-tellers. To one who
lived on a farm In his boyhood the
memory of the husking must ever be
a pleasing picture. How full of joy-
ous life those harvests i\ere. The mel-
low days of September passed; the
cranberry meadows grew red, the
fringed gentians bloomed; the witch-
hazel flowered amid the fulling of gold
and lusset leaves; there was a eidery
odor in the orchards where the ground
was (overei with apples; the product
of the corn-fields was drawn away by
oxen and piled into a heap, usually in
some sheltered meadow."
p" !RESCUED BY TELLER.
euec of the chief executive of the na-
tion he managed to coutrol his disposi-
tion to Ik profuue. lie, however, in-
formed the president that be would not
Magnificent Courage Displayed by p0 back to Idaho for any man on earth,
the Colorado Senator.
and then left the white house.
ltcpairing to his room at a prominent
hotel, Gov. Shoup wrote his resigna-
tion of the position of governor ot
Idaho and transmitted it by special
messenger to the secretary of Hie in-
terior. Two days iater (Jen. Noble sent
for Gov. Shoup, requesting him to call
at the interior department, and the vet-
Senator Slump, of lilnhn, I* Another
Mil tea in ii ii of lleinarWnlile Nerve
nml I nt«f"C Determination
of ' liuraeler.
[Special Washington Letter.)
'There ls.no more courageous man is eran pioneer did so. Secretary Noble
in the woi>l than Senator Teller," said urged him to withdraw bis resignation,
Maj. Pea body, of Colorado. "He has telling him that the president would
parsed through many thrilling expert- not object to the exteusion of his leavo
nces during his lifetime, but on no oc-j of absence, but Gov. Shutip informed
isiou was his virile manhood and ( the secretary that his resignation was
magnificent courage displayed to a ! deliberately tendered in respouse to
greater advantage than on the evening what he deemed the insulting manner
after the news of the assassination of <>f the president towards him, and that
President Lincoln was received in l is resignation would not be with-
Leadville. A miner, coming from the drawn, not even temporarily. Tbq
shaft where he hail been working all resignation of Gov. Shoup was ac-
day, upon being Informed that l'resi- < epted. He remained in Washington
dent Lincoln had been assassinated, in until Idaho was admitted to state-
hood and he was elected to the United
States senate.
Preceding, during and after the civil
war, George L. Shoup was one of the
ablest und bravest scouts and Indian
lighters of the west. Old timers of the
froutier narrate many wonderful
stories concerning the experiences of
Shoup, the scout; but the senator can-
not be induced to talk about himself,
except occasionally among his most in-
timate friends.
Ex-Senator Sanders, of Montana,
says: "In his public exhibitions, Buf-
falo Bill makes a specialty of a hand-to-
hand contest with an Indian chief in
which he comes off victorious by kill-
ing the Indian with a knife. The per-
formance is a repetition of an nctual
tight, for BuiTalo Bill did have a knife
contest with Yellow Hand. But
George L. Shoup had hand-to-hajul
knife contests with a dozen or more of
the fiercest savages of the frontier. He
was u man of great skill and agility,
and possessed of the strength of a
giant. He wan the best swordsman,
the best hors'. jau and the best-posted
scout iu the .Kcky mountuin region.
One of his brothers was assassinated
by six Mexican outlaws. George L.
Shoup went out after the assassins of
his brother, and within n period of
three months he put every one of them
BENATOR HENRY M. TELLER.
•He did
Washington, carelessly suid:
not die too soon.'
"That unfeeling and unpatriotic re-
murk was passed from lip to lip until
everybody in the entire community
had been mode aware of it. Shortly
after nightfall a mob broke into the
man's house and dragged him to a pub-
lic hull where a lynch court trial was
be given him. lie l.a.l absolutely no ndT'ond" the* of "thei.
show for his life. I he entire crowd ..p- („.d |n alcobol ln ,,ns v
pcated to be unanm.ouH ..desire .....I wi,h hU reRilnt„t came un-
deter."inat.on tokill him. A „xp(ctedljr upon . Sioux Indian vlrtnfr,
n. itcnctiiii o it ia and was mawacred with hit command.-1
ing w..„ regaroed «. oo Bood for be | senator Sander*. "Shoup.
man. The rope «... to be u.ed by the | 55 mBrcbcd
w hole mob, and the unfortunate fellow J t
, , , , , ,, ,. ..liri, great American desert, and when 50C
was to be dragged to death through K ' .
miles away from the fort he came sud-
denly upon an Apache village contain-
ing over 1,000 warriors. By courage
and kill and strategy he captured thf
UETTI.KU RVBN
<z&cS- *4 Mr:
"Willie, you'll be sick." said his moth-
er, as he handed up bis plate for more
of the fowl; "this is the third time
you have been helped." "I l.now it,
mamma," replied the little five-year-
old, "but that turkey peeked at me
once, un 1 I'm getting even."—Chi-
cago Daily News
Do loot
Do you know of any deserving poor
family that is likely to go without a
Thanksgiving dinner unless 3011 pro-
vide it? If so. theu what?
the Htreets.
"Senator Teller was a young man
then, but he bad already gained the
respect and confidence of the people,
all o' /hciin knew him nt least by sight.
•In 1 law ofllce, which was u block
away from the public bull in w hich the
lynch court wos being ueld, he was in-
formed of the situation. Hastily tak-
ing his hnt in his hand Mr. Teller
rushed downstairs, out into the
streets, und made his way to the hall
for the purpose of saving the man's
life. Numerous friends of Mr. Teller
endeavored to restrain him, because
they fearetl that he might suffer ut t he
hands of the mob if he interfered. But,
with set teeth, he proceeded to the
hall, pushed his way through the
crowd, took n stand on the platform
beside the trembling prisoner, waved
his hand for silence, and obtained it.
"He thereupon addressed the mob
and informed them that the prisoner
wus not their prey, but n prisoner of
the United States, and that the city
should not be disgraced by the exercise
of mob luw upon u man who had made
ti thoughtless remark. He was inter-
rupted by angry cries und shouts from
the mob, who declared that no man
should stand between them und their
victim.
Mr. Teller t hen stepped to the front
of the stage and informed them that
one man at least would stand between
ti. in and their victim, and that before
they should execute that man without
u trial they must wreak their wild ven-
geance upon him. He commanded si-
lence again and declared that the man
was his prisoner and that he would
take linn to the L'tiited States jail nt
Denver, where he belonged, and see
head chief and conducted the entire
band back to the fort, thereby demon-
strating a generalship und a knowl-
edge of Indian warfare vastly superior
to that of Custer. Nothing but his su-
perior ability and courage saved him-
self and command from annihilation.
"Did you ever hear of the Sand Creek
massacre ?" said Senator Sunders.
"The Indiuns hud become very trouble-
some ;n lbU3, and had committed s
SENATOR GEORGE L. SHOUP.
number of the most brutal outrages
upon women and children as well as
upon the men of the frontier. Col.
Shoup was sent to subdue them. He
corraled n body of 81)0 bucks, squaws
und papooses in a ravine, and a battle
began which for fierceness, intensity
and bloody results is without parallel
that he should have a fair trial for his j in the history of Indian warfare. The
Indians were well posted in the ravine
and did considerable execution with
their rifles, but the men under Shoup
were so inaddeued with the fresh
memory of outrages committed upon
women and children that they pushed
their way through the ravine and de-
clined to capture any of the redskins,
result of their uncontrollable
life. The result of the effort made by
Teller, which no other man in thnt
community would 'lave dared to make,
was that Teller led his prisoner
through the mob. out of the hall, into
the street, to a railroad train and land-
ed him in the United Sates jail nt Den-
ver as he declared he would do."
Senator Shoup. of Idaho, is a man of
extraordinary nerve and determina ardor the troops killed men, women
tion of character. He was a soldier n(,j children without compunction of
during the war ami has lived on the
frontier of the growing west for more
than a generation, acquiring property
bud popularity at the same time. He
was uppolnted governor of Iduho terri-
tory in March. IHSO. by President Hur
conscience or thought of mercy. Col.
Shoup was severely censured by a num-
ber of Indiun-loving societies in the
east for the extreme action taken by
his men; but the people of the frontier
paid little atteution to the criticisms
risoti. because lie wa the unopposed heaped upon Col. Shoup and his men,
choice of ail the leading republic:!ns of because the result of the affair at Sand
the territory. During the winter of (;reek completed the subjugation of
1883-90, Gov. Shoup was in Washington
lobbying for statehood for Idaho. He
had leave of ubsence from the terri-
tory, 30 dnys 111 a time, until < 0 days
had expired, when the sccretnrv of the
interior. Gen. Noble, extended his leave
for 30 days for the third time. A day
two later the secretary sent for
the hostile Indians, so thnt until thiss
day they never have undertaken to in-
trtfere with the white pioneers of
civilization." SMITH D. FRY.
Named lliiu ItuariiiB Hull.
A gentieman who is just back from
Hawaii tells u stor> at tbe expense o!
Senator Shoup and informed him thut 1 Col. F. W. Barker, of normal school
the president objected to any further I fame around about Chicago. Col. Bar-
extension of hi* leave of absence, de-
cluring that it wh« his duty to go to
Iduho and not remain in Washington
al' winter.
Gov. Shoup went 10 the white house
was admitted to the pfesldential pres-
ence, and informed President Harrison
that in his judgment he could serve the
Interests of Idaho belter in Washing
ton than in Hoixe Cit.v. and thnt. there-
fore. he had made application for ex-
•ension of Irnve President Harrison
very haughtily and coolly told Gov
Shoup thut he expected him to go buck
to Iduho. and that he must go back
without delay. Gov. Shoup is u man
with a quick temper, but iu tbe pres-
ker spehi the summer ia Honolulu and
while there gave tbe native teachers
tome points. He delivered a number of
lectures on the art and scieuce of
school teaching aud his fame traveled
far and wide. Tbe natives ha I trouble,
however, in mastering bis name, and
so they gave him a tiesiguation of their
own. Like most clitldrcn of nature,
they are prone to naming people after
some object which i* suggested by
the individual. Tbe name bestowed
upon Col. Barker was "Pipikane."
which, interpreted into English, means
"Roaring Bull." Col. Parker will g >
down iu Hawaiian history as "Pipi-
kaue."
I , 1
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Parks, J. T. The Indian Sentinel. (Tahlequah, Indian Terr.), Vol. 9, No. 24, Ed. 1 Thursday, November 24, 1898, newspaper, November 24, 1898; Tahlequah, Indian Territory. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc154916/m1/1/: accessed April 25, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.