44
The University Courier.
LITERARY.
FATE.
A rose bud, pure and white as if its growth had been
The sacred grove of Pallas far within
Lay near the cradle of a sleeping child,
Each in its own sweet pureness ne'er beguiled
By sad and painful troubles of this world.
The child awakes and with its infant eye
Beholds the rose bud in the vase near by.
The mother, watching with that tender care,
Which soon of childish longings is aware,
Places the rose bud in the babe's small hand.
The rose, half blown, now in the vase does rest,
When thro, the room with laughing voice there pressed
A maiden fair, with eyes so blue and deep
As if their one sweet duty was to keep
Ever the true reflection of the sky.
She sees the rose, and soon its pure, white crest
Places upon the lace folds on her breast,
She views with loving glances the rose, her own
Sweet life, a fairer rose half blown.
Never to her the likeness seems to show.
The rose full blown, the maiden now does twine
Within the black and shining tresses fine
Of a lady, proud, beautiful and tall
Arrayed in all the splendor for a ball
Where dance and music speed the hours away.
A withered rose upon the pavement falls
As from the warmth and radiance of the ball's
Late pleasure, the beauty rides away.
A woman, pale and haggard, old and gray
Picks feebly from the stones the faded flower.
Thus from the gentle child—the dawn of life—
And from the maiden to the lovely wife,
Then to the wretched woman—from the height
Of youth and morn, to age and gloomy night
The rose has passed.
A. R.
A TALE OF EARLY KANSAS.
In the central part of the field of a well improved farm in eastern Kansas is a small grove of evergreen and weeping willows. The trees are quite large and evidently were planted many years ago. Passers along the country road often notice this little group of trees and wonder why the farmer does not cut them down. Trees standing in a field are a source of trouble and loss to the farmer. They not only take up ground themselves but by their long roots draw the nourishment which would be used by the growing grain. And also it causes a good deal of annoyance to turn a team around a clump of trees. The horses tramp the corn and the roots of the trees catch the points of the shovels and break the pegs in the cultivator.
Is the owner of this farm less practical than his neighbors or has he the sense of beauty more developed and on this account planted those trees to break the flat monotony of his farm? That clump of trees has a history and when it is told the farmer's course will be explained.
Should one take the trouble to climb over the low hedge bordering the farm and walk through the growing corn to the grove, he would find in the midst of it enclosed by a neat railing a grave. At the head of the grave stands a neat marble stone engraved on which are these words; "Sacred to the memory of James Johnson—Died Sept., 2d, 1858. He nobly died in behalf of his enemy." James Johnson was one of the earliest settlers on Kansas soil. He belonged to that floating class the "squatters" who were the advance guard by American civilization in its westward march across the great Mississippi
valley to the mountains of the West. He early settled on the piece of land where he now lies buried, built a rude hut and "broke" a few acres of prairie near his house which he farmed after a desultory fashion. Here he lived for several years. He was a rough restless sort of fellow fond of hunting,and of making long trips as a teamster with the wagon trains which at that time did the freight business of the west.
In the course of a few years immigration began to come to Kansas. Everywhere the prairies were dotted with the white covered wagons by the settlers. At first the land held by the squatters was untouched, the settlers prefering to take the unoccupied lands rather than go to the trouble to eject the squatters who seldom paid any attention to conforming to the pre-emption laws. Soon the best lands were taken up in this way, and then came the clash with the squatters. The later settlers pre-empted the squatter land and by process of law summarily ejected the holders. Much bitter feeling were engendered by this means between the two classes. The early history of Kansas tells of many a bloody deed which was caused in this way.
James Johnson was one of the first to suffer. His land was very fertile and well located. William Frame an energetic young man preempted his land, and with little ceremony dispossessed Johnson of it. Of course Johnson was furious. He located on a piece of land adjoining and told some of his friends that he remained in the country only to square his account with Frame. Frame built a substantial house, and stable and with his wife and one child was soon comfortably settled.
Several months passed and autumn was at hand, an autumn long remembered on account of the hot dry weather which soon parched the green prairie, and made the grass dry as tinder. The settlers knew nothing of prairie fires and used no precautions against them. Johnson was more wise. He ploughed the land for quite a distance around his cabin and was thus prepared for the emergency which soon came One day in September, Frame went to the neighboring town for provisions leaving his wife and child alone. In the afternoon a strong wind sprang up from the south. Soon it became evident that something strange was happening southward. The sky was filled with a smoky haze and along the southern horizon lit up by a dull lurid glow. Johnson was keeping sharp lookout and his practiced eye soon told him that the prairie was on fire. His face hardened. "The fire will be here in half an hour", he thought; "and when it comes nothing under heaven can save Frame's house! Let it come. Here's my chance for squaring that account. Let them burn and then my grudge will be satisfied". The flames came nearer and nearer with almost the speed of a race-horse. The sky to the south was soon obscured by black smoke and great tongues of flames could at times be seen leaping into the air, as the great fire rushed crackled and roared onward in its destructive course leaving nothing behind but a black smoking waste. It was an appalling sight and even the hardened heart of Johnson was touched as he thought of the terrible fate awaiting those innocent beings in the home half a mile away. He rushed to his stable and mounted his fleetest horse. Yes he would save them! Why not. They had done him no wrong and he would be worse than a brute to let them perish. The fire was coming fast and he saw he had little time to lose. Soon he was at the Frame home. He placed the terrified woman and her child on the horse and bid them go with utmost speed to the broken ground. He turned the horse and the frightened animal darted away. Johnson followed on foot. He ran as only a man can run whose life is at stake. But ere he had covered half the distance the fire like a great devouring monster reached out its arms and caught him.
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The settlers buried him where he fell and farmer Frame dedicated that little spot of ground to the memory of him who gave of his life for his enemy.