davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
Ceredo advance. [volume] (Ceredo, W. Va.) 1885-1939, 1909-09-15
Briuht Tommy
course

Tommy" said the teacher Of the
juvenile class, when water becomes
ice what is the great change that
takes placer"
The change in price,, replied
Tommy.
Ceredo advance. [volume] (Ceredo, W. Va.) 1885-1939, 1909-09-15
IN SOFT QUALITY OF LINEN
Model That Would Make UP Well in
Any Light Color, Preferably
Pale Green.

Linens are made in such delight
fully soft qualities this summer, that
they adapt themselves we'll to fine
tucks such as are made at the top of
this skirt. The number of colors suit
ed to a summer dress are many. but
Ceredo advance. [volume] (Ceredo, W. Va.) 1885-1939, 1909-09-15


around the shoulders and the skirt The hat
trimmed with of
~ 3 pale lavender baste with long skirt
ms Is outlined with twisted souahe between
Shallow high of
yer.
bow of - r
trimmed with
OF black
" - -
Ceredo advance. [volume] (Ceredo, W. Va.) 1885-1939, 1909-09-15
PROVED BY TIME.
No Fear Of Any Further Trouble.

David Price. Corydon, Ia, says: II
was in the last stage of kidney trouble
Ceredo advance. [volume] (Ceredo, W. Va.) 1885-1939, 1909-09-15
WORTH
MOUNTAINS
OF GOLD
During Change of Life,
says Mrs. Chas. Barclay

Graniteville, VT -"I was passing
through the Change of Life and Suffered
The Grangeville globe. [volume] (Grangeville, Idaho) 1907-1922, 1909-02-17

seemed like the barker wilderness
to him then. He sees a little school
house upon a neighboring hilltop,
that mountain of his childhood. He
feels the evening sunset glow, and
hears the hocks and herds as they
come within the fold. He sits about
the hreSide cracking nuts and listen
ing to the tales of adventure, when
Atlantic states poured their bravest
sons over the Alleghanies a golden
stream to food the vallies beyond.
How these tales fired his magma
ton then, made him long for the time
when he, too, might 90 out TO con-
quer other lands.
The evening wears on, the aged
sire takes the sacred book upon his
lap, reads from its well worn pages
and expounds its truth. Kneeling
around that quaint old room, where
all is silent save the ticking of the
clock and the cracking of the fire,
a fervent prayer aScendS to heaven,
a flood of thanksgiving to him who
has SO tenderly guided and protected
them through the rough voyage of
life, and an earnest petition seeking
the divine grace to rest upon those
who are to resume life's journey
where he lays it down.
What sacredness to him has this
most holy hour. No doubt knelt
at that altar, no hypocisy there, no
enveyings, no hatred, no malice, no
fraud. Truly this is kingdom
where love is the king
No wonder such an oft repeated
scene should be burned deeply within
the heart and soul of one so often
privileged to enjoy its blessed presence
and become an ever vivid picture, an
everlasting stimulus to life of purity
and honesty, mid the varied struggles
of life. AS it fits before his mem
ory, sleep sweetens and deepenS,
and his face, cooled by the refreshing
mountain breeze, CLOVIS in childish
innocence and purity,
Again he sees that dear old mother
and feels her loving kiss and fond en-
brace as he bids her good bye, turns
his back upon all that has been near and
dear to him and faces the unknown
west Again he feels the inspiring clasp
of the father hand and hears his sterl-
ing farewell advice; he sees the little
brothers and sisters, bowed with
grief, as the hot streams trickling
down their faces tell of the sorrow
burning at their hearts.
Standing beside them with asher
cheek and tear dimmed eye, is the
sweet companion of all these scenes,
whose heart throbs in unison with
his own, but whose mouth, though
silent, speaks louder than words.
What battle ground is this
What strength of heart, what stead.
faStneSs of purpose, what faith in the
eternal are arrayed like great Roman
Phalanx. What clarion voice watt.
from western shores, that cheers anC
strengthens his heart to place hi
back upon such an inviting scene a
this and leads him on, on, on, eve
on, till it rests YEARLY here upon tn,
crest of the Rocky mountains.
Here for the last time, for man,
years at least, he looks back upol
the land so sacred to his memory
Here for the first time, he has locke,
upon the land of the hope of years
The vision moves on, and he sees
new home, sweet emblem of the old
grazing the sunny slopes of this new
born land. He sees himself sittin,
The Grangeville globe. [volume] (Grangeville, Idaho) 1907-1922, 1909-02-17

beside the evening fireside, with the
companion of his youth beside him;
he feels the loving little arms about
his neck and hears the sweet childish
voice say, tell me a story papa, tell
me a story. His heart throbS with
new found JOY and he strains his
ear to catch the story so eagerly
sought, but the voice bushes and the
vision dims. Slowly it seems to Drift
farther and farther away, mist seems
to screen it from view. No there it
is, can't you see it, 1t seems SO far,
away, vet there it is. But something
seems to come between it. The
mist deepens, and long dark arm
extends brush in hand. Rapidly a
deep, dark gorge appears with for
bidding walls. Deep, deep almost
bottomless it seems, its infinite depth
deepening into impenetrable darkness.
The hand moves and with dash
of red trails a mighty stream of blood
through the gorge. What can it all
meant With sudden start the
the sleeper awakes and graspS a
feyered brow. The cool breeze of
the morning tempers his recollection.
The scenes of the dream flash rapidly
before him, he looks back to the ris-
ing sun and then again to the invlt-
ing, but unknown, west. Again he
marshals his conquering forces,
again he turns his back upon all
that is near and dear to him, and
faces the west, surveying its bound
less sweep of magnihcence, sets his
teeth, tightly clenches his fists, his
muscles rigid, he marches on, a
mighty hero, a mighty victor, a
mighty man. What worthy found
er of an empire. May God multiply
his kind. Of the battles he has
fought, we hear but little, from his
own lips, for he is modest man.
But let us sit with him there at the
Preside of his later years and listen
to him unfold the modest tales of his
great heart, to the little ones upon
his knees.
The Grangeville globe. [volume] (Grangeville, Idaho) 1907-1922, 1909-02-17
THE PIONEER OBLIGATORY

YEARLY | see him struggling to
the crest of that great divide, a strong
young man filled with hope and
pride, undaunted by previous hard
ships, and fresh from the victories of
other and lesser battles. Now he
is striving to battle down what the
ages past have deemed an impene-
trable barrier between the fair maid
of the east and the noble young hero
of the west
see him, with glowing counten-
ance. as he struggles to the summit,
tips his hat to the back of his head,
shades his eyes with his large brawny
hand and for the first time looks
down upon the western sloop of the
great Rocky mountains. His keen
eye penetrates far to the north, far to
the south and still on to the west,
over one grand panorama, bathed in
the golden glow of western sunset
that seems so httingly to represent
the golden treasures and hopes wrapt
within its bounds for those hearts
brave enough to penetrate its hidden
Businesses.
Here and there, like stately Sentn-
els, stand in radiant purity, vast snow
capped peaks, fit guardians of the
hidden store house about them, their
sides, below the snow line, one
magnificent green of the pine, fir,
hemlock, spruce and cedar. Here
and there great deep mountain
gorgeS, through which plunge in un-
ceasing roar the mighty floods in
their onward rush to the great
Pacific.
Farthur down, the mountain sides
spread into great unduIating prairieS,
through which the roaring torrents of
the mountains, glide in silence, paint
ing beautiful Silvery thread as they
go. The scene thrills his very soul,
completely captivating him. His
hand uncovers his head, his knees
bend in reverence, and here in the
sunset glow he bows in holy awe, as
if face to face with the creator of all
this magnihcence. Softly and silently
the picture fades as the sun sinks be-
meath the western horizon. Again
see him seated in the silent gloom of
his evening camp fire, that throws
its Frightening rays upon the sur
rounding foliage, like the lingering
light that has SO brilliantly gilded the
western sky. His brain still reels in
glowing intoxication of that scene,
and other visions of hope and prom
Use come before him.
Sweet sleep, that gentle nurse OF
weary heart and limb, aided by the
murmur of the trickling stream, the
gentle signing of the wind throughout
the trees, and the soft flicker of the
dying embers, WooeS him into deer
and peaceful Slumber. Then, thai
Skillful artist of the soul, steals into
his heart and paints another picture
Again he sees that dear old eastern
home, his own little room in the lof
bright with the loving touch of /;
mothers S care, that SO httingly take,
the place of luxury He sits agail
at that long table, where love SAVIOR
every morSel of food. He wander
about the barnyard and through tn
fields and orchards, he sees the dis
tant wood, where he has gone s.
often, swimming, fishing, howerin
and nutting, and where in childiS
fancy he has hunted wild beasts an
wild men; fought deadly combat an
explored dense unknown region bur
led in its thicketS. OH the sacred
The San Francisco call., 1909-05-30
The Story Of LAS CasaS Defending the
Aztecs," Felix Parra's Picture

crouches on the steps clinging to the
preIate's knees. Her face is hidden in
her arm that she may not see that
PROSTATE form She is dressed as you
may still see Indian women of today
in the provincial markets. scant
skirt transversely striped drawn tight
ly about the body with the fold in
front. The scarflike mantle trails away
down the steps. The dusty bare feet
the smooth round brown arm, the fatal
istic droop to the whole body, are all
to be seen over and over in every plaza
of Mexico today. Back of the Indian
woman is her overturned water jar of
the type that has persisted since the
conquest.
AT the right is shattered pillar
standing for the overthrown religion
of the Aztecs. On the left a pedestal
supports a squat Aztec idol. Senior
PARA himself is authority for the idol
not being one of the greater gods but
merely a deified ancestor. On the ped
estal Is a wreath of some bellshaped
flower resembling our common datura.
Note that the wreath is only half hung;
the dead man must have been just
fastening up that trailing end of the
festoon when he was struck down by
some cruel fanatical Spaniard Words
cannot convey the pull upon the heart
strings OF that willing wreath
The erect, tall spare form of Las
Casas fills the center of the picture as
he towers above the unfortunate
aborigines at his feet His arms are
crossed upon his breast while his right
hand grasps the crucifix. The highest
light of the picture is upon Las Casas'
face, upturned to heaven imploring di-
vine intervention for wrongs like this
that he must behold yet cannot prevent.
The face holds the human pity and hor-
ror of 1T. the stern and righteous
wrath against the evil doers. and the
intense realization thatwith God alone
rests all hope for justice. And we
know it is no. for that one poor crea-
ture clasping the priests knees the pic
ture was painted; it is scathing
arraignment Of the whole course and
policy of the conquest.
Felix PARA has painted the biog-
raphy of Fray Bartolome de las casas
in the picture. All the books written
about him cannot say much more. He
The San Francisco call., 1909-05-30

stands out figure of commanding no.
bility and grandeur moving through the
dark chapters of early American his
body His ideas of right and wrong
were centuries ahead of his age He
was the devoted champion Of the In
dians for nearly 20 years. longer than
the whole lifetime of most men. He
was not cut off from his chosen work
until his ninety second year and then
by illness with every faculty still in
tact. His most vigorous mental work
was done after he was 20. He labored
with generation after generation on the
Indian question; he took up their cause
with four succeeding kings OF Spain.
1t was all one long tragedy because.
just as the picture tells in symbol
what he could do was almost nothing
in comparison with what he longed to
do He could get wise laws made In
Spain, but their enforcement among
the greedy cruel colonists was another
matter He did what a man could and
lifted his face in prayer to heaven for
the rest.
What more can we know OF the
Felix PARA who painted his picture in
the first splendid blossoming of his
genius? He came up from Morelia to
study at the academy and painted Las
Casas before he had received any other
instruction. After that he was sent
abroad for two years. One~of the Wis
ible results of that stay abroad is a
grouped about a pewter tankard: an
other is his wife. whom he met and
married in France.
He lives in Tacubaya, a beautiful
suburb of Mexico. and labors like a
peon in his garden when he is not
teaching or painting. He must be
nearly 70, though nothing about him
warrants the claim. His gray eyes ap-
pear blue in some lights and his brown
beard is largely streaked with gray.
He speaks French huently, but declares
that he knows less than two words OF
English His is a sunny nature, still
full of fun and high spirits. Yet he is
equally in touch with life's pathos and
sorrows. One OF his most notable and
lovable traits is his democracy; not a
common virtue among the caste loving
Mexicans. 1t is said to be his delight
to find budding genius in the shabbiest
members OF his class and to praise
them before their better clothed fellow
students.
PARA has painted many other pic
The San Francisco call., 1909-05-30

lures in his long life Two. almost a.
well known IN his own country as his
world famous Las Casas are AN In
cident OF the Conquest" and Los
Solos. (the Solitary Ones)- The former
Is conceived in something ths sams
spirit as Las Casas- 1t shows soma
Indians dead and dying. while the con-
querors greedily examine the 1swslsd
trinkets that evidently inspired ths
slaughter.
Los Solos, shows the artist on .
purely human tender theme. A widow
and her SON. a mere child. are walking
to the cemetery hand In hand II has
Parra's distinctly subdusd coloring. yet
warm and exquisite withal.
May he live as long al ala Las cAsas
and paint many more pictures this
Felix PARA. one OF the grand old men
OF our time.
The San Francisco call., 1909-05-30
By Amanda Mathews


EELIx PARRA'S sublime canvas.
Las Casas Defending the Aztecs,"
Is worth pilgrimage to the City of
Mexico. 1t is one of the worlds great
pictures. Reproductions of it are diff
cult to obtain. unless, indeed, one can
AFFORD to frame $40 Mexican currency
bill. Every one of those is adorned
with an excellent miniature of this
heroic painting.
It hangs in the art gallery of the
San Carlos academy, Mexico's great
national art school, free to her poorest,
with night classes for artisans and
even financial assistance for the most
talented students
After spending hours studying the
painting it was distinct shock to
learn that the man who painted it in
his youth. now, in his old age, teaches
daily in the academy both afternoon
and evening. To think of such genius
being set to guide the stumbling pen
ellis OF schoolboys-the pity and the
waste of It'll But 1 lost that view of
the matter quickly enough when l
gained q closer sight of the artists
wonderful personality through his
friends. 1t is neither pity nor
waste; 1T Is triumph and dedication.
1t springs from the man being as
worthy as his work. 1t means that
he sets his daily life to the great tune
of brotherhood. which is the keynote
OF his wonderful creation.
It Is painting ore can never ex-
haust. The colors are subdued, yet
rich. There is faithful realism COM
bined with the most exquisite play of
symbolism. There is technique and
soul; both to the point of keenest sat
isfaction. It is full OF the tenderest
humanity brooded over by the sub
Unity of religious fervor
Las Casas stands in the portal of an
Aztec temple. At his feet lies a slain
Indian with his head fallen back and
resting on the step below and the blood
trickling from his, matted hair An In
dian woman. probably the Aztec's wife,
The San Francisco call., 1909-05-30

the panning hole until his JOINTS were
stiff. This was too slow.
From the charred log he split and
hewed a rough rocker and laid the
lengths of bark in a mimic sluice On
the blaaed butt Of young pine he
wrote a brief but legal notice of loca-
ton. Some cans of dust were cached
among the rocks OF the old chimney
where he still kept his camp. The days
ledge was put off. The grub gave out.
Two DAYS were spent in bringing a new
supply from the nearest town. This
little break in the solitary, monotonous
life of the man was good for him. He
began to feel again that he belonged
to the great world. He was one of the
brotherhood.
The hidden cans of yellow dust be-
hind in the old chimney back held pos
sibilities. A man can hold up his head
and claim friends with success behind
him and money in his hands.
He was startled one evening. just as
he was rolling himself in his blankets.
by a long whinnying call to the ponies.
which they answered; but as no one
came to the camp he concluded the call
had come from a stray from the
upper range. AS he came round the
point into the claim next morning he
faced two men standing beside the
rocker-one. a white man OF his own
age. apparently. the other half breed
Indian, cross eyed and very dirty.
How dye do?" called Jorke civily.
How do" grunted the white man in
a surly tone. scowling on the man be-
fore him In an evil way.
The nearer approach of the two had
an exciting effect on both. Jorke's eyes
pierced with look OF smoldering rage
and dislike the beetle browed face of
the other, whose pale blue eyes mar
rowed until the lids were almost closed.
Hardship, toll and sorrow had carved
deep lines on the face of Jerry Jorke
and had left deeper marks upon has
character, but not such lines Of evil as
printed the story of bestial life on the
face of the man before him.
what 'er you doin' here?" growled
out the stranger.
What business of yours is it what
I'm doing?" returned Jorke.
TN mighty soon let we know what
business O. mine it's. This ere range
belongs to me n L warn ye to git of
n II bout as quick as God 'rmighty ]
let ye." Oaths, unique and vulgar, in
terspersed the sentence. The half breed
spat a mouthful of tobacco juice into
the rocker, at the same time giving
the clumsy shell an aggravating kick
Jorke pointed up to the little pine
tree whose barred roots dangled above
the cave, with the targetlike spot al
its base.
There's my notice up there. Its
about as plain as I can make it-may.
be YOU don't read"-this with a whim.
sical. sarcastic twist Of his lips. 'The
last lines read like this. This claim
shall be known as the Sally Keen.
Placer Claim. and intend to hold an(
work said claim" His clear, deter
mined voice and square shoulders gave
a guarantee of his ability to make
good.
A purplish flush stained the strang-
ers face and neck, tinging the rims Of
The San Francisco call., 1909-05-30

the winged ears. me sleam VI hiiih 3
rage shot across his brutal features.
With grinding jaws. snarling. obscene
oaths. he rushed forward to strike
Jorke down-when the half breed
spoke low in the Niger tongue, and
both turned and crossed the stream to
the tethered horses.
Jorke watched them out of sight.
..Varmints. Both or ye.'' he NUT
tered Il guess old Sweet Love is due
to take a hand"
He went back to camp and took the
rifle, which he often called his wife
and oftener "Old sweet Love- from the
branches of the scrub oak and exam
ined the magazine. Reaching under
the corner of the blankets he drew out
a fiat flask and took a long swallow.
Dutch courage'-not bit of It. Just
force of habit The natural prelim-
mary to any undertaking.
when he came into the claim again
the white man, John Dart by name,
was crouched behind the big boulder
at the panning pool. Without warn
ing, the rifle in his hands beloved
across the canyon and a singing bullet
tore the flesh from Jerkes arm. He
sprang to shelter behind the burned out
Shell of pine stump and returned fire,
having the advantage of crevice in
the wall Of his fort. Bullets spatted
about the blackened stump and as
many more ricochetted from the gray
boulder.
A yell and the muzzle of the rifle
pointing skyward over the rock told
Jorke that his bullet had found the
mark. He watched some moments for
a movement of the figure lying on the
down on the huddled shape. Stared
silently and without remorse at the
dying man whose treachery had spoiled
his life. Watched the spreading dark
stain through the dingy clothing round
the neck and shoulder, and a trickling
stream among the pebbles beneath.
AS he kneeled to lift the bleeding
form. a singing bolt struck him in the
back and ran scorching down his
thigh The simultaneous crack of a
rife echoed again along the hillsides.
He lurched forward loosely. like half
filled sack One hand grasped the rife
and the other flung itself forward to
dabble in the sticky red blot beside the
blanched cheek on the sand.
The crosseyed Indian came slowly
forward to the hollow stump and
peered over at the still forms lying
side by side. He shrank with cow
ards fear. Going to the camp he over
turned and rummaged the supplies. He
brought the horses from the other bank
and packed the camp kits on the po-
nies. often going stealthily to the pine
stump to see If there were life oi
movement in the claim.
With that selfish greed which his
pale blue eyes indicated he gathered
everything into the packs. Riding the
better morse and leading the other. he
drove the ponies before him up the ole
trail to the north. The little wild thing,
that had scudded to cover at the un.
usual noises came forth cautiously.
A quail called timidly from the shel
ter of the hazelbrush and her mate re-
sponded from the manZanita on thu
hillside. The chattering chipmunk came
DOWN from the top of the location pine
stopping every few feet to bark ant
scold. Blue Jays flashed by in the sun
light