Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, April 13, 1901, Image 1

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^ ^ : " ISSUED SEMI-WEEKL^ ^ ^ ^ ^ _ __ i _ l. M 0EI3T 4 SONS, publishers. } $4amilg IJerospajer: 4f#r tho promotion of tin; political, fSocial, Agricultural and iontnttiitial Interests of the |tojt?. { term4nc!lk ' ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKYILLE, S. C., SATURDAY, APRIL 13, 1901. ISTO. 30. am BTT THOMAS ! Copyright, 1901, by Thomas P. Montfor CHAPTER VII. A TALK 15 THE TWILIGHT. After supper Melvin and old mar Turner sat out In the yard and talkedtbat is. Turuer asked questions, and Melvin answered them. Melvin was in a better humor since he was sligbtlj rested and bis hunger had been ap peased, and to the hundred questions Turner asked be returned ready anc good natured answers, although he die not always return true ones. Finally Melvin found an opportunity to lead the conversation, and then h< told about the old man back In the woods and >f his queer experience wit! him. For the first time that evenin* Turner burst into a roar of hearty laughter. "Lord a-massy," he cried, "don't yot know who that old hoss was?" "Certainly not," Melvin replied. "Hov should I know when 1 am a total stran ger here?' "To be shore. I forgot 'bout that Still, It seems like ever'body most orl to know old HI Jenkins. Lord, be'f been a-livin forever, 'pears lack, as the feller says." "Is he crazy?" "Prnrv! Who?old Hi?" "Yes." "Old III crazy! Why, snakes an cat> erpillars, stranger, what you mean bj tskin sich a question as that?" "I thought from the way he acted that he certainly must be crazy." "Great possums an persimmons! Talk 'bout old Hi bein crazy! You don'1 know nothin 'bout that old hoss or you wouldn't never ask no sich a fool thing as that. Why, old Hi's the smartest man in all these parts. He sot on to a jury oncet down at the county seat." "That so?" "You bet it are! Yes, sir-ee!" "Wonder why he behaved so strangely with me. then?" "Why, that's plain enough when you come to flgger it out You jest happened to run acrost him on one of his off days." "Off days?" "Yes, one of his off days." "What do you mean by that?" "Don't you know?" "T W " i centum^ uu uuu "Waal, by shucks, you shorely don'1 know nothln 'bout the ways au doin'? of folks yere'bouts! What I mean bj Hi's off day Is that this is his day foi chihin." "Ah, he has the chills, does he?" "To be shore. Why shouldn't he have 'em?" "I don't know, I'm sure." "Course, he has the chills, an he shakes ever' other day. He was settir out tliar on that log a-waitin for his chill to come on when you seed him." "And that was why he behaved the way he did?" "Of course. Thar hain't many peo pie, I can tell you. wants to be both ered with questions when a chill is comin on. an if a feller was to sliooi you under them kind of provocations you wouldn't uever git uo court tt hang him." "The court would consider the shoot ing justifiable, you think?" "You bet it would. Lord a-massy, I wouldn't nigh kill nobody for nothii: else on earth. 1 guess, but I jest mosl know I'd shoot a feller if he come a-pickin an a-naggin at me with fool questions when my ager was a-workic on me." "You say Mr. Jenkins shakes with a n\-nvr ntlmr darV" "To be shore. I said that. Whj wouldn't he shake ever* other day?" "It's a regular part of his life, is it?" "Jest as much a part of his life as eatin an slecpin jj. Yes, sir-ee! Why say. if anything was to happen to old Hi so that he missed havin his chill on his reg'lar day 1 reckon he'd feel more lost than if his old woman was to die In these parts ager is a part of a fel ler's rights an privileges, same as vot in an holdin oliiee is." * "Indeed?" "You bet your hide." "Does Mr. Jenkins live near this?" "No. not as you uiought say right near. lie lives over t'other side ol Coon Run river. Hain't been over it that settlement. I reckon?" "No." "Waal, you won't losenothin, 1 guess if you never do go over thar." "Why?" "Oil. them folks over thar aiu't jest the sort a body keers to have much tc do with Leastwise I find 'em thai a-way." "Are they bad characters?" "No. 1 don't know as you can put ii that a-way exactly, 'cause they'n peaceable enough an honest an all that They're jest so different from we un< over here." "In what way are they different?" "Waal, for one thing they're so dog gone ign'unt. Why. say. them folk: over thar hain't got no more edicatioi than a gang of possums, not a blanu bit more. Siclr ign'unce is plumb piti ful shore. I alius feel sorry for then that hain't got learnin. don't you?" Melvin looked at the old man in opei eyed astonishment and muttered an as U11 P. MONTFORT. t. sent. It occurred to hiro, however, that if the people on the other side of Coon , Run were any more lacking in learning than Turner was their condition, as far is education goes, was pitiable indeed. But he was very far from giving utter* ance to any such thought, for already he had learned that the average Possum Ridger was a sorely sensitive indi! vidual. who was liable to take offense J on the smallest provocation. < There was a silence of two or three ? minutes, and Melvin's thoughts had 7 drifted back to Beckett's Mill and to s ? the little sceue there that day in which c J he had been a participant And in c 1 the center of that scene there was 1 ' one figure that stood out boldly and r 7 distinctly from all the rest What the i others said or what the others did he j 1 did not know or care, but every word 1 uttered by Louisa Banks and her every r 7 movement and every look was as viv- t Idly before him now as It bad been at t that time. Nor was this strange, for * to him she was the only living reality t 1 there. The rest were only so many fig- e ' ures whose trivial deeds and existence f f were unworthy of a thought. 5 He recalled the expression on her face at the moment when her eyes met c his, and now it was a wonder to him ^ how be had ever managed to hold himself so well in check as not to betray t even a hint of the great, consuming passion that filled his heart ? ' Suddenly bis wandering thoughts were recalled by Turner, who renewed * j the conversation by opeuing up a new i ' subject. | "Mr. Melvin." he said. "1 reckon you ; ain't one of them doggoned overly nice * ' an finicky sort of chaps who are so r ' dad blamed hard to please that they 1 - ? 1? -ii ? ? .J >?' L jest put ever uouy bui up uu euj*f."Why. I dou't think I'm particularly 1 hard to please," Melvln replied. "1 try ? not to be. at least." "That's kind of tLe way 1 figgered you out, but you know a body can't al, ways tell about folks. Sometimes a feller's Gggerin don't turu out nothin like right. One time I got pow'ful fool* * ed on one of them doggoued pill peddlers. an I been a little mite shy of c folks ever since." c "How was that about the pill ped- * dler?" y "Why. it was this a-way. lie rode up to the fence thar one night an want- h ed to know if he could stop, jest for all the world like you done while ago. He n was iu sich a tizz an a stew that he tl wouldn't toll me nothin sca'cely an H ! 'peared like he didn't want to answer n nary a question I asked liim. though the Lord knows I aiu't no hand to inquire f Into other folks' business an ask fool | questions 'bout things that don't con- tl ' sarn me. You know that's so. I jedge, c from what you've seed of me?" E Melvin smiled, but with reckless hardihood replied: k "Oh. certainly!" "Waal." Turner went on. "that thar P ' nill neddler 'lower he was jest bound S [ to stop yere. an stop he dill. But. oh. ' my land, what a bother an a pester he tl ' was! Staid most a month. 1 guess, an tl that whole enduriu time he was forever an eternally a-grumblin an findin tl fault. Wa'n't never satisfied with 1 nothin. The very fust thing he done ^ ' was to raise a furse 'cause he had to " sleep In the bed with the hired man. y an"- E "You are not keeping a hired man 1 now, are you?" Melvin asked, a little y anxiously. b 1 "No, not now, I ain't. But. as I was li goln to say. when we tried to humor o I I iri\ y \ ^^m\\ \ \r n v mm. ///, (>} D i . M y n "Know Sim Hunks!'' g t that felk*r by puttin liiiu to sleep the j ? next night with three of the children y . he kicked up a wuss furse than ever, j 3 Reckon the blame fool wanted a whole bed to hissclf." o "And if he was here now," Melvin i . said eagerly, "you could give it to him, a 3 couldn't you?" t i "Yes. we could now, since the hired g > man's gone." Turner answered, and . Melvin drew a long breath of relief. $ ) "Like enough, though." Turner added, fc "if we'd give him a whole bed the next e i thing he'd been askin for a room all e , to hissclf. I wouldn't 'a' put It a bit i-past him to act Jest that miserable unreasonable." "You-could you give him a room all :o himself now?" "Waal, practically. Wouldn't be nouody in thar with him 'ceptln a couple )f the boys." Melvin's face lengthened. "Then he didn't like it," Turner con:lnued, " 'cause he had to go out to the jump ever' mornin to wash his face. Lowed he ort to have it tixed so's he , :ould wash rigtit in the room whnr he dept. Ever hear of sich a crank? But :liat wa'n't all. No, sir-ee! Next he lggered that he didn't like to use the lame towel we all used, but wanted >ne all to hisself. But on top of all hat foolishness ne was so uiameu puricular about his things. Got mad cause cie an the hired man wore some >f his clothes an 'cause my old womau jot out bis watch for the children to 1 )lay with. Yes. sir-ee! That's jest the sort of a unreasonable, finicky blame ?uss that feller was. an I'm doggoned , jlad you ain't nothin like him shore." When Turner had finished, there was ' lilence. Melvin had no observation to iffer, and lie felt that-there was no ne- . iessity for him to say anything. He lad his own opinion, however, of Turler's ideas of hospitality, but he was inder the impression that it would be ust as well If he kept that opinion to limself. lie was sure Turner would lot feel any kindlier or more friendly oward him if he should give utterance 1 o his thoughts. So when after a long pause Melvin inally spoke it was on another and bd ' mtirely different subject. A little difidently. as if he knew he was ap ! iroaching dangerous ground, he vsaid: "I presume. Mr. Turner, yon are ac- ( [uainted with a man named Banks. ( vho lives over at Beckett's Mill?" I "Who?Sim Banks?" Turner ques- ] ioned. "I think so?a tall man with red halt ] md"- 1 "Oh. It's Sim!" Turner interrupted. ] 'Ifs bound to be him, 'cause thar ain't 1 10 other Banks thar." 1 "You know him. then?" "Lord, me know Sim Banks! Why. vbat a dern fcol question! Do you 1 eckon I know myself? Know Sim ' Hanks! Why, Lord a-massy, man, I've 1 mowed that chap ever since he was :nee high to a grasshopper. Yes, j lir-ee!" ( "He's married, I believe?' , "To be shore. Yes. Sim's married." j "And hapjiy. I presume?" j "Happy as some. I reckon." ] There was a short pause. Then Mel- ] In said: < "I saw Banks and his wife today < iver at Beckett's Mill. I don't know, ] if course, that it Is so, but it appeared < o me that they are a mismated pair. 1 Yhat do you think about it?" < Turner looked at Melvln, squinted 1 Is eyes and grinned. ' "Young feller." he said, "them two " lay he mismated for all I know, an ' hey may not. an if they are mismated ' : ain't none of my doin's, an I ain't ' owise responsible for it." "Certainly not." Melvin admitted, but I thought perhaps you had no- ( iced that the wife is so different from ( he husband. She appears to be edu- , ated and reGned, while he does not. j laven't you observed that?" 1 "I hain't blind," Turner replied quiet- i 7, "an what I see I see." < "Do you think it possible for two i eople so entirely different to live to- < ether happily?" 1 "I hain't been doin no thinkin along 1 bat line, Mr. Melvin. I don't figget ' bat I got any call to." "But you certainly bave an idea along bat line?" Turner eyed Melvin very narrow!;. Dr a moment, then slowly replied: "Young feller, I can't make out that ou got any call to worry 'bout Sim tanks an his wife, an I 'low it'd be est as well for all parties concerned if ou didn't do It. I'm a-gittin along up i years myself, an I ain't lived all my fe in this world without learn in one r two things. One of the things I've one learnt is never to mix up in noody else's business when I ain't got o interest in it. an another thing is ever to bother myself 'bout what goes n between a man an Ids wife. I ain't o blamed smart as some, mebby. nor ain't no denied idiot asylum, an I now enough to know that 'bout the lost dangerous place a feller kin stick is nose Is in between a man an Ins roman. He'd a dad burned sight beter stick it in a steel trap. Yes. sir-ee! 'on bet he had." Turner paused, but Melvin offered no enlv. Presently Hie former went on. peaking in all seriousness: 1 "You are a young feller. Mr. MelIn," lie said, "an 1 guess you ain't had o groat experience with the world, so '11 jest risk given you a little piece of dvlce. Whatever else you do in this ife an however many other mistakes ou may make, he shore of one thing, n that is don't you ever go an git nixed up in no mess with no other nan's wife. No matter what comes ior what goes, don't you ever do no icli a thing as that, for as shore as ou do you'll live to see the day when ou'll bitterly rue It. You mark my eords for that." Melvin laughed at the old man's serlusness and turned the matter off lighty. lie had no intention of going to .11 y dangerous extremes, and he felt hat there was no occasion for all this ermonizing. However, there came a time In after lays when those words came home to dm with stunning force, and he wishd with all his heart that he had heedd them. TO BE CONTINUED. Straps of i$ocat Juotimi. REMINISCENCES (IF YORK. Valuable Bits of Local History Preserved by a Septuagenarian. Dr. Maurice Moore in The Enquirer of 1870. Perhaps the fourth or fifth resident of Yorkville, was Mr. James Ross, Sr., familiarly known as "old Uncle Jimmy Ross." In latter years he was certainly one of the oldest settlers, and for a long time kept a public house. In looking over some old papers today, I find one of his bar accounts, bearing date 1798 and 1800, which, as a curiosity, I publish to this generation: Estate of Doct. John Allison, Dr. To James Ross. 1798. ?. s. D. Oct. 9. To pint whisky 7 i sung ij " brandy 19 1800. Jan. 21. " 4 slings, at 11 4 8 " 1 sling 12 Jan. 22. " 1 sling 12 Feb. 18. " 1 sling 12 " 1 sling 12 April 8 " 3 slings 3 6 Dee. 27. " 2 slings at 11 2 4 1801. April 8 " 1 sling 1 2 1802. " 1 sling 12 Nov. 9 " 2 half pints whisky.. 1 2 ?12 4 This liquor, I'll warrant, was pure; and the prices not so high as those now forced on us by revenue laws. One of the most extravagant incidents I ever witnessed, transpired on the street near the house of Mr. Ross. Just at daylight, a Negro, called Isaac Watson, was starting home from his wife's house, when a mad dog jumped out of old Mr. Ross's garden?the present site of Moore & Son's brick building?and attacked him. The Negro recognized the dog as one belonging to Dedman. Three months previous, there had been great excitement in the village. A mad dog was known to have passed through, which had bitten dogs, hogs, and even one or two calves, that afterward exhibited signs of hydrophobia, and were immediately killed. Two Negroes reported Dedman's dog to have been bitten, and he was requestad to dispatch him. The dog was a fine one and a great favorite of his master, so he declined to kill him, but proposed to keep the animal up in a pen, in his yard, so as to avert any ehance of mischief. As it was Negro evidence, he could not be forced to kill the dog, although much dissatisfaction was felt at his not doing so. How the animal escaped from confinement was never known. As the dog confronted the Negro, Isaac recognized him and knew his danger. He repelled the furious bound with a wellJirected blow, hitting the animal on the side of the head with his fist, hurled him heels over head, several feet oack, and at the same time, yelling at the top of his voice, "get out! get out!" Again the dog sprang at the Negro. Again he was felled to the ground, the Negro still screaming with all the pow- I ii of his lungs, "get out!" but to no1 effect were either blows or cries, for on again came the horrid beast. A number of persons had collected in consequence of the Negro's yells, most if whom had jumped out of bed and "an to the rescue without waiting to put on their clothes. However, when they saw that the big black of Dedr.an's was the cause of the outcry, every one feared to draw near to Isaac's elief, being afraid that the rabid creature would turn on them. Guns were Drought, but they could not be used for tear of killing the man instead of the dog. The Negro, knowing it was i fight for life, never dared to move Ulo A von rl f 111 n/lvorcnrv IIS C^CS 11U111 Ills Ultuviiui UV..V.VU.,. He repulsed him again and again, by :he steady hard blows of his fist; the log aiming every assault at his throat. The sweat poured like rain from the S'egro's brow?every pore was swelterng. From five to seven minutes did :his awful combat last, though seemr.gly to the intensely excited looker's>n, three times as long. One cried to lim to do this?another that; thus suggesting relief. At last, Ben Chambers called out. "choke him!" Everyone reichoed the happy thought. "Choke lim! Choke him!" was heard from ill sides. As the dog arose and ;ame on with mad fury, Isaac, nstead of the oft-repeated blow, seized him very firmly with both lands around the throat. "Hold him! Hold him!" was now the cry; but the jlaclc man did not need the admoni;ion, for he held on with the death ?rip. .Sam Chambers seized a fence ail, and ran up and broke the dog's ?ack with it, when he was then soon lispatched; but Isaac never let go his ;rip on the throat until the brute was inally dead. The Negro's clothes were ladly torn, his shirt in front entirely jone, the cuticle distinctly marked, jut blood no where drawn. I have witnessed many fights, both . efore and since, in Yorlcville; seen uen strip to the buff, hold their clothes ' ' % A.?Mrt/ylwnrltf fVlO UK1 Slap mem encuuiagme'; iare back, and say, "Go in! I know >ou are not the man ever to be whipped;" but never have I ever seen anyhing to equal in ferocity or interest he rencounter between Isaac Watson and Dedman's dog. Old Mr. Ross lived to a great age, riuch respected as a good man by the mtire district. His faults were few? lis virtues many. Though fond of his nog. he never drank too much. I have seen him perform the remarkable feat if pouring his liquor into a tumbler, uit it in his pocket and carry it to his Aell without spilling a drop. There he ldded the cool water direct from its source, and drank his reviving beverige. Never was the weary wayfarer .urned from his door unrefreshed. Comfortable bed and board he always found given to him, whether he had money to pay or was without. Old Mr. | Ross was Indeed, a "cheerful giver." When he died in 1826, the community felt as though a landmark was removed, so entirely was he identified with, and beloved in his vicinity? "His life was gentle; and the elements So mixed in him, that nature might stand up And say to all the world?this is a man!" [TO BE CONTINUED NEXT SATURDAY.] OPENING OF THE SOUTH. Postponement of the Inevitable and Why?Future Prospects. Philadelphia Saturday Evening Post. We are to see in the near future a great change in the distribution of immigrants in this country. For a quarter of a century the tides have been flowing to the West and Northwest, but great numbers are henceforth sure to go to the South. This rich part of our country?rich in the way of minerals and soil?has attracted far more people from other sections than it has settlers from Europe. Several facts explain the reason. In the first place, the trans-continental railroads have had their agents busily at work in Europe, and have operated in connection with the steamship companies. The Immigrant in buying his ticket in Europe generally bought it to some Western or Northwestern point. Another thing was the large number of lynchlngs, which, being reported in European newspapers, gave the impression that in the Southern states life was not secure and property was not protected. These influences are passing away. The South Itself has for sometime been taking steps to show how false the general inference is. As a matter of fact people live as securely in the Southern states as in any other section of the world. The few cases of lynching are horrible, but they do not portray the actual conditions of the different states of the South. The industrial branches have done a superb service in showing the opportunities open in the South, especially in the way of manufacturing, and they are still adding to their usefulness in this direction. But best of all, probably, in the way of new business influences, is the coming of practical business men from Northern and Western sections. Go to a Southern city today nnd vnn will find these men not onlv making money rapidly, but taking active part in the social and political life. Then, too, the large profits which the cotton mills and other factories are making will attract in greater measure those who have moneys to invest and those who wish to utilize the opportunities. It is in its way a fine thing that the Southerners are to hold a West Indian exposition at Charleston, S. C. There is no purpose, so far as the managers have expressed themselves, to do anything but to encourage the commerce of the West India islands to trade with the Southern states. But when the exhibits are shown we predict that there will be a curious result. The South will show that it can produce practically everything that the West Indians are raising, and that it can show manufacturing products equal to the best of the North. The exposition at Atlanta years ago was a success in demonstrating to the country the beginning of the new life of the South. Bad management made the New Orleans exposition a failure, but the other expositions that followed it had their meed of prosperity, and it is quite likely that Charleston will reap the rewards of its enterprise. The figures of the growth of the South since the Civil war seem more miracle than fact. In many states values have increased ten fold; in some particular spots a hundred and a thousand fold. There was a time, not many years ago, when ?the South re*> oothnflr eonnnri nnlv in its dis V.CI > CU U OVbVUvik s/vvw..%. astrous effects to the Civil war, and that was through the outbreak of speculation and the almost universal exploitation of land booms. But all that has gone. The people have recovered and settled down to the normal, and now the growth is legitimate development, and that all who, wanting to change their abode, have gone there, are finding it a goodly place, inhabited by goodly people. LIFE IS WHAT WE MAKE IT. "Our lives are what we make of them ourselves," writes Edward 13ok, in the April Ladies' Home Journal. "If we are weak and accept the artificial, our lives will be so. And just in proportion as we make our lives artificial we make them profitless and unhappy. A happy life cannot be lived in an atmosphere surcharged with artificiality. That is impossible. No hope is defeated unless we defeat that hope ourselves. No life is thwarted unless we thwart its highest fulfillment and development by our own actions. It is with us, and with us only, whether we allow the swift 'currents of prevailing customs' to make our lives complex. They do, unquestionably, and they are dwarfing the inner lives of thousands of women, and killing thousands of i others. But it is cowardly to lay the blame and the responsibility unon those 'customs.' It is optional with us i to accept or reject them. There are certain social laws which seem to make these 'customs' right, but every phase of a higher law, a Divine law, proves i them wrong. There must be certain laws and customs for the protection of , the social body. These are likewise for our own individual protection, and are right, and ordinary common sense teaches us what these are." STORIES ABOUT MR. CARNEGIE. He Jokingly Declares That Golf is the Most Serious Business of Life. | Mr. Carnegie will go away all day to play golf, which he jokingly declares to be tne only "serious business of life." A correspondent once went to Cumberland island, his sister's home, on the Georgia coast, to interview him on some event of tremendous importance to the world of steel. He found him on the golf links and fired at him, point blank, a long list of carefully prepared questions concerning this matter. Mr. Carnegie listened with patience till the newspaper man had finished, then, he broke out: "Oh! I don't know anything about all that: but yesterday I broke my record. I just went around this course in five strokes less than ever before." Mr. Carnegie is fond of telling how he was once asked by the editor of a popular magazine for an article on "Organization in Business." "Well," said he, "I think I could write that article. But I'm afraid the ? - Tl 1 1 X- 1 price i a nave ru asa juu vvuum uc iuu high." "Oh! no," said the delighted editor, with a vision of a magnificent "feature" in an early number; "I'm sure we could arrange that satisfactorily. Name your own price." "Well," replied Mr. Carnegie, "I could hardly afford to do it for less than $5,000,000." He smiled a little at sight of the editor's face and then he went on: "No, I must withdraw that. What I should put into it has cost me much more than that and, of course, you would not expect me to sell it to you at less than cost." As the diplomatist puts it, "The negotiations fell through." An old friend of Mr. Carnegie's who kept his fast trotters and held the record, was beaten in a brush by a young man. The old gentleman disappeared for some time. He had gone to Kentucky to get a horse that would re-establish his supremacy. He was being shown over a stud and had already been past a long string of horses with their records on the stall and the vie tories they had won. Then he was taken through a long line of young horses with their pedigrees, from which the dealer was proving what they were going to do when they got on the track. The old gentleman, wiping his forehead?for it was a hot day?suddenly turned to the dealer and said: "Look here, stranger?you've shown me 'have beens,' and you've shown me your 'going-to-bes,' but what I am here for is an 'iser.'" Some of Mr. Carnegie's sayings are as follows: "If a man would eat he must work. A life of elegant leisure is the life of an unworthy citizen. The republic does not owe him a living: it is he who owes the republic a life of usefulness. Such is the republican idea."?Triumphant Democracy. "In looking back you never feel that upon any occasion you have acted too generously, but you often regret that you did not give enough."?An American Four-in-Hand In Britain. "Among the saddest of all spectacles to me is that of an elderly man occupying his last years grasping for more dollars."?An American Four-in-Hand in Britain. "The monarchist boasts more bayonets, the republican more books."?Triumphant Democracy. "There are a thousand heroines in the world today for every one any preceding age has produced."?Triumphant Democracy. "Put all your eggs in one basket and then watch that basket."?Curry Institute Address, 1885.?H. W. Lanier in World's Work. Semmes's Prophesy.?While Captain Rapheal Semmes was roving the seas in the Sumter, he carried six prizes into Cienfuegos, only to have them turned over to their owners by tl\.e governor general of Cuba. This was naturally annoying to the enterprising captain, and he says in his memoirs, published in 18G8: "I planned a very little quarrel between the Confederate States and Spain, in case the former should establish their Independence. Cuba, I thought, would make-a couple of very respectable states, with her staples of sugar and tobacco, and with her similar system of labor; and if Spain refused to foot our bill for the -- - - - ? 1 J robbery or tnese vessels we wuuiu iuui it ourselves at her expense." That plan fell through; but Captain Semmes continues with a passage the conclusion of which may strike some people as curiously prophetic: "Poor old Spain!" he exclaims. "I thought perhaps to forgive thee, for thou wast afterward kicked and cuffed by the very power to which thou didst truckle?the federal steamers of war makfng free use of thy coast of the 'Ever Faithful Island of Cuba,' chasing vessels on shore and burning them in contempt of thy jurisdiction and in spite of thy remonstrances. And the day is not far distant when the school ma'am and carpet-bag missionary will encamp on the plantations and hold joint conventicles with thy freemen in the interest of godliness and the said school ma'am and missionary." According to some of the Havana papers the day which Captain Semmes foresaw Is come, and 30 years is "not far distant" in the realm of prophecy.?Atlanta Journal. VP Women have full voting rights in Colorado, Idaho, Wyoming and Utah.