The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1900-07-12
Written for The Prison MlrrOr.

Written for The Prison Mirror.
Columbia was her name-Columbia
Kevwin. 81 know it's queer" she used
to explain, "for strangers, when they're
introduced, always stare at me as if l
were some sort of foreigner-which
I'm not, thank goodness. But it's the
name I've got, and Pm going to try to
live up to it,"
So Columbia was nothing if not pa
triotic, and her name, however odd,
didn't seem inappropriate She had
little need to deck herself with the
national cOIOrs, which she so persist
entity Haunted, for nature had printed
the red, white and blue in dawn tints
on her glowing face, and bright stars
shown there, too, right out of the blue
to make all absolutely perfect. She
was, herself, our country's fairest, tru-
est emblem.
But patriotism was at discount in
Rustival, or Rustyville, as it was in
sultingly nicknamed by its hustIing
neighbors in Newburg, just across the
lake. Rustival was sour belated
little country town, which had aspired
to become the local metropolis and
hadn't realized its ambition. I;remem-
ber that when I went there 10 start a
tannery in 1889, the year of the .prelim-
mary survey for the w. H. and X. R.
r., it was impossible to get rod of
ground for love or money, so extrava-
giant were the expectations of the vii
layers. They had seen the railroad, the
county seat and all the other good
things which they had accounted their
own, one by one slip from their grasp
and tumble into the lap of their up
start rival.
Thus Rustival, dwindling and dingy,
continually losing the more alert of
its youth, and retaining only those
whose shallow rustic conceit found
scant encouragement elsewhere, had
become the abode of peevish and carp
ing discomfort, ripe for disloyalty.
The whole country was going to the
dogs. A glance at their neglected
streets, weedy yards and white paint
scaling from a struggling line of
houses, was proof enough to this mil
dewed community.
Naturally, when the war with Spain
broke out there was no enthusiasm.
To be sure, Joel Bickman, the local
politician, made off to Washington to
Try for an appointment. But he soon
came back and reported general state
of rottenness. "Them Spaniards," he
declared, "are gOin' to lick us out of
our boots, and I'm hopin' it may do us
good. Everything's all at skies and
sevens, and there can't nobody git any
show exceptin' ruck of rich mems
sons"
"Why don't you enlist in the ranks
and serve your country that way ?"
demanded Columbia with character
istic aggressiveness. "I'd call that bet
ter business for big, strong man like
you than loa6ng about and grumbling
here" She had just entered the post
office where Joel was haranguing and
stood like an animated edition of the
star spangIed banner.
"Ketch me servin' under them MIN
compoOpsr' roared JOEL "Better run
home little sal, and stick on few
more posies you've set out in yer pas
front yard. That's the way you gals
fight fer yer country" The men re-
moved their pipes and guffawed ap-
provingly.
"Pl just show you some day." she
cried defantly, as she turned away
with letter postmarked Newburg.
Even the news of the brilliant victory
at Manila fell fiat in Rustlval.
"Jest happened So" commented Joel.
"Likely the Spanish WANT lookin' fer
no sech fool doin's way off t'other side
of nowhere. And what's the good on
it? Should say we he'd sar itches
enough on onr hans already. Ha. ha!