Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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1 YORKVILLE ENQUIRER. ISSUED SEMI-WEEKLY. l. M GEisTs SONS, Publishers. } % ^amilg Jletrspgcr: the gruroottoit of the political, gocial, Agricultural, and Commciyiat gntypte of the feople. ESTABLISHED (855. YORKVILLE, S. O., TUESDAY, AUGUST 18, 19Q3. ZSTO. 66. ' ... .. . . ..... l ?T.. .11 V .1 1 .... ik. By WILL N. HA 4 Copyright, 1902, by Harper Bros. All rl CHAPTER XV. PTIFTER supper that evening the IAI Bishops sat out ou the veran- I fessgj da to get the cool air before HMBi retiring. There was only one light burning in the house, and tbat was the little smoky lamp In the kitchen, where the cook was washing the 1 dishes. Bishop sat near his wife, his 1 coat off and vest unbuttoned, hls?halr 1 tilted back against the weatherboard- 1 lng. Abner Daniel, who had been trying ever since supper to cheer them up In regard to their financial misfortune, I sat smoking in his favorite chair near the banisters, on top of which he now J and then placed his stockinged feet "You needn't talk that a-way, Brother Ab," sighed Mrs. Bishop. "Yo're I Jest doin' it out o' goodness o' heart. ( We might as well face the truth. We've got to step down from the position we now hold, an' present way o' livin'. An' thar's Adele. Pore child! She said Id 'er last letter that she'd cry 'er eyes out. She was bent on 1 comin' home, but 'er Uncle William won't let 'er. He said she'd not do any 1 good." "An' she wouldn't," put in Bishop gruffly. "The sight o' you an' Alan before me all the time is enough to show 1 me what a fool I've been." "You are both crossin' bridges 'fore 1 you git to 'em," said Abner. i'A lots o' folks has come out'n scrapes wuss'n what you are In, ten to one. I ain't never mentioned it, but my, land hain't got no mortgage on it. an' I could raise a few scads to he'p keep up yore in* trust an' taxes till you could see yore way ahead." "Huh!" snorted his brother-in-law. "Do you reckon I'd let as old a man ?" "in o?o on' no hl/wl bin stflbp hU <10 JUU aiCf uu uv w?vw ?? little all to help me out of a hole that la gittin' deeper an' wider all the time? a hole I deliberately got myse'f into? Well, not much!" "I wouldn't listen to that nuther," declared Mrs. Bishop, "but not many men would offer it" They heard a horse trotting down the road, and all hent their heads to ' listen. "It's Alan," said Abner. "I was thinkln' It was time he was showin' up." Mrs. Bishop rose wearily to order the cook to get his supper ready, and returned to the veranda just as Alan was coming from the stable. He sat down on the steps, lashing the legs of bis dusty trousers with bis riding whip. It was plain that "be had something of Importance to say. and they all I?* (mnnflanf n{lnnnQ Yvaucu iu tiupan^ui on^uvc. "Father," he said, "I've had a talk with Rayburn Miller about your land. He and 1 have lately been working on a little Idea of mine. You know there are people who will lend money on real estate. How would It suit you to borrow $25,000 on that land, giving that alone as security?" There was a startled silence, and Bishop broke it In a tone of great irritation. "Do you take me fer a plumb fool?" he asked. "When 1 want you an' Miller to dabble in my business. I'll call on you. Twenty-five thousand. I say! If I could exchange every acre of it fer enough to lift the mortgage ou this farm an' keep a coof over our heads. I'd do it gladly. Pshaw!" There was another silence, and then Alan began to explain. While he talked Mrs. Bishop sat like a figure cut from stone, and Bishop leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, bis big face in his hands. It ? *** /Irt /v# Ra>\a b r? r? Kl a ttt n was as 11 a iui uauu ui uu^c uau uivnu over him. shaking him through and through. "You been doiu' this to he'p me out." he gasped, "an* I never so much as axed yore opinion one way or another." "I'd rather see you make money out of that purchase than anything in the world," said his son. with feeling. I "Supper'8 ruidy. Mane Alan." "People have made fun of you In your old age. but if we can build the road And you can get your hundred thousand dollars some of these folks will laugh on the other side of their faces." Bishop was so full of excitement and ? RRFTJ Author of I\.I3XLrl>l, "Westerfelt." ghts reserved. emotion that be dared not trust bis voice to utterance. He leaned back against the wall and closed bis eyes, pretending to be calm, tbougb bis alert wife saw that he was quivering In every limb. "Oh, Alan." she cried, "don't you see bow excited your pa is? You ought not to raise his hopes this way on such an uncertainty. As Mr. Miller said, there may be some slip, and we'd be right back where we was and feel wuss than ever." Bishop rose from his chair and began to walk to and fro on the veranda. "It ain't possible," they beard him saying. "I won't git out as easy as that? I Jest cayn't!" "Perhaps It would be vrong to expect too much." said Alan, "but I was obliged to tell you what we are going In town for tomorrow." Bishop wheeled and paused before them. "Ef Wilson puts up the money, I'd have enough to lift the mortgage an' a clean $20,000 besides to put in Bome good investment." Aunt Maria, the colored cook, came out and timidly announced that Alan's supper was on the table, but no oue heurd her. She crossed the veranda aud touched the young man on the shoulder. "Supper's raidy, Marse Alau," she said, "en it's gittln' col' ergin." He rose and followed her into the dining room and sat down in bis accustomed place at the long, table. When he had eaten, he went back to the group on the veranda. "I think I'll go up to bed." be told them. "My ride and running around at Darley have made me very tired. Father, get all your papers together and let's take an early start in the morning." CHAPTER XVI. A1 S Henry, Aunt Maria's busband, who was the chief BESS farmhand, was busy patching jgqj&SJ fences the uext morning. Bishop sent over for Pole Baker to drive the spring wagon. Alan sat beside Pole, and Abner and Bishop and Mrs. Bishop occupied the rear seats. Alan knew he could trust Pole, drunk or sober, and he confided his plans to the flattered fellow's ears. Pole seemed to weigh all the chances for and against success in his mind as be sat listening, a most grave and portentous expression on his massive face. "My opinion is the feller '11 be thar as shore as preachin'," he said. "But whether you git his wad or not?that's another question. Miller's as sharp as a brier, an', as be says, if Wilson gits to talkin' about that land to any o' these bill Billies they'll bu'st the trade or die tryiu'. Jest let 'em heer money's about to change hands, an' it '11 make 'em so durn jealous they'll swear a lie to keep it away from anybody they know. That's human uatur\" "I believe you ure right," said Alan, pulling a long face, "and I'm afraid Wilson will want to make some Inquiries before be closes." "Like as not," opined the driver. "But what I'd do ef I was a-runnin' it would be to git some feller to-strike up with Mm accidental-like an' liter'ly fill Mm to the neck with good things about the property without him ever dreamin' he was bein' worked." The two exchanged glances. Alan bad never looked at a man so admiringly. At that moment he seemed a giant of shrewdness as well as that of physical strength. "I believe you are right, Pole," he said thoughtfully. "That's what I am, an', what's more, I'm the one that could do the flllin' without him ever knowin' I had a funnel in his mouth. If I can't do It, I'll fill my hat with saft mud an' put it on." Alan smiled warmly. "I'll mention it to Miller," he said. "Yes, you could do it. Pole, if anv man on earth could." Driving up to Miller's office, they found the door open, and the owner came out with a warm smile of greeting and aided Mrs. Bishop to alight. "Well," he smiled when they had taken seats In the office. "We have gained the first step toward victory. Wilson is at the hotel. 1 saw his name on the register this morning." The elder Bishops drew a breath of relief. The old man grounded bis heavy walking stick suddenly, as if it had slipped through bis inert fingers. "I'm trustin' you boys to pull me through," he said, with a shaky laugh. "1 hain't never treated Alan right, an' I'm heer to confess it. I 'lowed 1 was the only one in our layout with any business sense." "So you are willing to accept the loan?" said Miller. "Willin'? 1 reckon 1 am. 1 never slept one wink last night fer feer some'n' *11 interfere witl) It." Miller reflected a moment and then said: "I aiu afraid of only one thing, and that is this: Not one man in a million will make a trade of this size without corroborating the statements made by the people he is dealing with. Wilson is at breakfast by this time, and after he is through he may decide to nose arooud a little before coming to me. I'm afraid to go after him; he would think 1 was overanxious. The trouble is that he may run upon somebody from out in the mountains?there are a lot in town alreadj'?and get to talking. Just one word about your biting off more than you can chaw, Mr. Bishop, would muke him balk like a mean mule. He thinks I'm favoring him now, but let him get the uotion that you haven't been holding that land 'for at least a hundred thousand and the thing would bu'st like a bub ble." Alan mentioned Pole Baker's propo sitlon. Miller thought it over for t moment, his brow wrinkled, and then he said: "Good?a good idea, but yot \ust call Pole in and let me give him few pointers. By George, he couk deep Wilson away from dangerotM people anyway." Alan went after Pole, and Mlllei took him into his consultation room in ""OK nrhapo thor ppmatno/l fm about fifteen minutes. When they cam< out. Pole's face was very grave. "1 won't forget a thing," he said to Miller "I understand exactly what you want When I git through with '1m, heT) want that land bad enough to pay anything fer it, an' he won't dream I'm it cahoot with you nuther. I can man age that. I ain't no fool ef I do have fits." "Do you remember my description ol him?" asked Miller. "You bet I do?thick set, about fifty, bald, red faced, sharp black eyes, iror gray hair, an' mighty nigh always with a cigar in his mouth." "That's right," laughed Miller. "Nov* do your work, and we won't forgel you. By all means keep him awaj from meddlesome people." When Pole bad left the office and Miller had resumed his revolving chair, Mrs. Bishop addressed him, looking straight Into his eyes. "I don't see," she said in a timid hesitating way and yet with a note oi firmness dominating her tone?"I don't see why we have to go through all thic trickery to make the trade. Ef th< land is good security fer the money, we needn't be afeerd of what the mar will find out Ef it ain't good security, I don't want his money, as fer as I'm concerned." "I was Jest thlnkln' that too," chimed in her husband, .throwing a troubled glance all round. "I want money tc help me out o' my scrape, but I don't want to trick no man, Yankee or what not into totln' my loads. As Bets? says, it seems to me if the land's wutt the money we needn't make such s great to-do. I'm afeerd I won't feel exactly right about it." The young men exchanged alarmed glances. "You don't understand." said Mlllei lamely, but he seemed to be unprepared for views so heretical to financial deal ings, and could not finish what be had started to say. "Why." said Alan testily, "the land Is worth all Wilson can make out of 11 with the aid of bis capital and the rail' road be proposes to lay here. Father, you have spent several years looking up the best timbered properties and getting good titles to it, and to a big lumber company a body of timber like you hold is no small thing. We don'1 wunt to cheat him, but we do want tt Iraon him from frvlno- tn 11 a hx UittJ "w getting the upper hand. Rayburs thinks if he finds out we are hard uf he'll try to squeeze us to the lowesl notch." "Well." sighed Mrs. Bishop, "I'm shore I never had no idea we'd resorl to gittin' Pole Baker to tote anybody around like a hog after a yeer ?' corn. I 'lowed we was goin' to make a oper and shut trade that we could be proud of an' stop folks' mouths about Alfred's foolish dealin's. But"?she look ed at Abner, who stood in the door way leading to the consultation room? "I'll do whatever Brother Ab thinks is right I never knowed 'lm to take undue advantage of anybody." They all looked at Abner, who was smiling broadly. "Well, 1 say git his money," he replied, with a short, Impulsive laugh"git his money, and then, ef you find he's starvin', hand Mm back what you feel you don't need. I look on a thing like this sorter like I did on scramblln' fer the upper holt in wartimes. I remember I shot straight at a feller thai was climbin' up the enemy's breastworks on his all fours. I said to myse'f, 'Ef this ball strikes you right, old chap, 'fore you drup over the bank, yo're one less agin the Confederacy; of It dnn't vnu kin non flwav at me.1 I don't think I give Mm anything but a flesh wound in the back, beca'ae he Jest sagged down a little an' crawled on, an' that'a about the wust you could do fer Wilson. I believe he ort to hold the bag awhile. Alf's hung on to It till his fingers ache an' he's weak at th? knees. I never did feel like thar wat any harm in passin' a counterfeit bill that some other chap passed on me Ef the government, with all its high paid help, cayn't keep crooked shin plasters from slidin' under our noses It ortn't to kick agin our lookin' oui fer ourse'ves." "You needn't lose any sleep about the Southern Land and Timber com pany, Mrs. Bishop," said Miller. "Thej will take care of themselves. In fact tveMl have to keep our eyes peeled t( watcli them even if we get this loan Wilson didn't come up here for bit health." "Oh, mother's all right," said Alan "and so is father, but they must noi chip in with that sort of talk befon Wilson." "Oh, no, you mustn't," said Miller "In fact, I think you'd better let m< and Alan do the talking. You see, il you sit perfectly quiet he'll think yoi are reluctant about giving such bij security for such a small amount ol money, and he will trade faster." "Oh, I'm perfectly willin' to keej quiet," agreed the old man, who noy seemed better satisfied. Pole Baker left the office with long swinging strides. There was an en trance to the Johnston House througl a long corridor opening on the street and into this Pole slouched. The hote ? ULilLCT was CUIplj OttTC 1VI IUC kibia who stood behind the counter looklnt over the letters In the pigeonholed ke] rack on the wall. There was a blf goug overhead which was rung by pull lng a cord. It was used for announc Ing meals and calling the porter. / big china bowl on the counter was fillet with wooden toothpicks, and there wai I a showcase containing cigars. Pole gluticed about cautiously without being noticed by the clerk and then with drew Into the corridor, where he stood i for several minutes listening. Presenti ly the dining room door opened, and i Wilson strolled out and walked up to i the counter. I "What sort of Cigars have you got?" I tin ooM tn tho nlpflf. "Nothing better than 10?three for a .* quarter," was the respectful reply as i the clerk recognized the man who had asked for the best room In the house. ? Wilson thrust his fingers Into his vest [ pocket and drew out a cigar. "I guess > X can make what I have last me," ne . said, transferring his glance to Pole I Baker, who had shambled across the room and leaned heavily over the open 1 register. "Want to buy any chickins? fine fryin' size?" he asked the clerk. ) "Well, we are in the market," was the answer. "Where are they?" f "I didn't fetch 'em in today," said Pole dryly. "I never do till I know , what they are a-brlngln'. You'd beti ter make a bid on a dozen of 'em any i way. They are the finest ever raised on Upper Holly creek, Jest this side o' ' whar old' man Bishop's lumber parat dlse begins." ' Pole was looking out of the corner of bis eye at the stranger and saw his I hand, which was in the act of striking > a match, suddenly stay itself. ' "We don't bid on produce till we see It," said the clerk. ? "Well, I reckon no harm was done by my axin'," said Pole, who felt the eyes t of the stranger oq him. i "Do you live near here?" asked Wil> win. with a smile half of apology at > addressing a stranger, even of Pole's ? bumble stamp. "No." Pole laughed and waved bis > hand toward the mountains In the west, which were plainly discernible 1 In the clear moraing light. "No, I'm a I mountain shanghai. I reckon It's flf> teen mile on a bee line to iny shack." t "Did you say you lived near old Mr. t Bishop's place?" asked Wilson, moving toward the open door which led to the i veranda. 1 "I don't know which place o' bls'n I you mean," said Pole when they were alone outside and Wilson had lighted I his cigar. "That old scamp owns the whole o' creation out our way. Well, * I'll take that back, fer he don't own ' any land that hain't loaded down with ' trees, but he's got territory enough. 1 Some thinks he's goln' to seceed from the United States an' elect himself 1 president of bis own country." t Wilson laughed, and then he said: "Have you got a few minutes to , spare?" ' "I reckon I have," Bald Pole, "ef 1 you've got the mate to that cigar." ' TO BE CONTINUED. 1 WORST PLACE ON EARTH. i Is Ciudad Bolivar, Scene of Recent Venezuelan Battles. | Ciudid Bolivar, the scene of the Venk ezuelan revolutionists' last stand against Castro's army, Is an exciting ' place to live In, even at the best of f times. "It Is a seml-civlllzed spot on the ' verge of the unknown Jungle," said a [ New Yorker, who has been there. "I was condemned for my sins to spend a week there shortly before the town fell Into the hands of the revolutionists last year. "I noticed that If anybody went out > after dark he always stuck his re volver in nis Den, ana i waa wamcu ( by several friendly citizens not to stay out late in the streets unless I wished to be held up and perhaps murdered. "It was a paradise for the advenI turous. One day I saw a rumshop , keeper chase the local barber down , the street with a loaded pistol in one ' hand and a machete in the other. I offered up a prayer for the tonsorial . artist, because I had no razor and he . was the only one. Luckily, he es. caped. [ "The trouble was about an overdue account. The purveyor of liquid joy ; was simply trying to collect his money ' according to the approved local cus t torn. > "Another day an imprisoned revo| lutionist escaped from the cuartel, or [ barracks, and a couple of soldiers ran i out to stop him with bullets. He got one in the leg and pulled up howling. The people thought the revolutionists i had come, so in a trice shops were i shut, doors bolted and everybody dis. appeared off the streets like magic. "The doors and shutters of the mer chants* stores are made of sheet iron, i When they are closed the stores be. come veritable fortresses. "Most of the private houses are sim[ ilarly protected, and have little grilles t through which the inmates can spy out to see whether visitors are enemies or l friends. Truly, a soothing place for a nervous man to live in. "When the shots were fired at the r runaway, I happened to be in the British consulate, spinning yarns with J the vice consul. Immediately he heard me snois ne iucrl-u ma ?uie, uic urei iv shut and barred the steel doors, and 3 then we got bur revolvers and went out on the balcony to see the fun. But it was all over in a moment, and the poor . wounded wretch was dragged roughly t along the street back to the cuartel. j "Ciudad Bolivar is probably the hottest place on earth. It is built on solid black rock, which retains the day's heat . far into the night, so that there is 3 practically no respite. New York's re cent heat wave would have been welcomed as a cool spell by the inhabii iants of this Orinoco hades. ; "All day long one Is plagued by f myriads of mosquitoes more agressive even than those which have made New Jersey famous; and at night bat) talions of frogs croak horribly and r murder sleep. "The walls of the houses are badly pitted with bullet marks?grim relics of former revolutions?and many are - in ruins. Ciudad Bolivar has often x been a battlefield before today. "The streets are unpaved and In the ' center of each there is a green, stag1 nant ditch. When streets intersect, a , plank is thrown across to bridge these r ditches. "There are no vehicles, and indeed ' very little civilization of any kind. J The place is always swarming with - nickel-plated generals and bandit soldiers, who fatten on the unfortunate inhabitants, sip aguardiente, smoke ^ their eternal brown cigarettes and dls1 cuss the glorious victories they are goi ing to win."?New York Sun. Miscellaneous Reading. FARMING BY MACHINERY. The Modern Revolution In Agriculture. Farm machinery may some time do work for us that will be worth $1,000,000,000 a year. Theoretically it is already saving us nearly three-fourths that sum; for as far back as 1899 if all the crops to which machinery is adanted could have been planted and gathered by hand they would cost nearly $700,000,000 more than if they had all been planted and gathered by machinery. It has not only added so much to our wealth, but it has made us the foremost exporting nation and it is changing the character of the farmer by freeing him from monotonous hand toil. More than that, it is fast changing the immemorial conception of agriculture and the pastoral and idyllic associations that have gathered about it since the time of Abraham. Wealth, Industry, commerce, the character of men and even their sentiment are all affected by it. i All the great crops are now planted and all, except cotton, are gathered by machinery. Let us follow a crop ihrniiffhnut ? spflaon'a work and see the changes that have come in its treatment. The ploughman no longer trudges slowly and wearily back and forth across the field. He rides a sulky plough with a spring seat. There are special ploughs for every need; turf ploughs, stubble ploughs, subsoil ploughs, ploughs for heavy work, ploughs for light work and gang ploughs turning three furrows at once. So simple are many of them that a boy may drive one. Ploughing by steam Is not commonly practiced In the middle west, but out on the great wneal rancnea ui me rocuu: tuiui ?. is common. On the table lands of California a sixty-horse-power traction engine drawing twenty-one feet of disk ploughs will break the ground to a depth of ten inches at the rate of forty-five to sixty acres a day. With mould-board ploughs, designed especially for this work, a strip twentyeight feet wide can be broken. This means that a man and a pair of horses with a single mould-board plough would have to cross a field twentyeight times to do the same work that the traction engine does by one trip of Its ploughs. A farmer of the central west who uses a small traction engine and a gang of four fourteen-inch ploughs says that It costs him from 50 to 62 cents per acre to break Itfs ground. He considers steam economical. The ploughing done, the manure spreader replaces the hand fork and Its backache. While the farmer with a pair of horses drives t>ack and forth across his fields, from the rear of his wagon the fertilizer is mechanically spread evenly over his land. Manure, commercial fertilizer, corn-stalks, straw, lime, ashes or litter from the barnyard are spread with greater economy, because with greater evenness, Kan Kir tianH tn aav nothing of the saving of time and of toll. The land made ready for the reception of the seed, machinery still does the work that muscle used to do. The sower goes forth to sow, but not as he once did, dropping his seed into the soil, trudging backward and forward from dawn till twilight. His grass or his grain is broadcasted or drilled in with mechanical evenness and the machine automatically registers the acreage sown. In like manner his corn is drilled in. listed or planted in hills, his potatoes are planted and even his cabbage, his cauliflower and his tobacco plants from the seed-beds are set out by machinery and the work is done better than it could possibly be by hand?this, besides the saving of ' <-?'! Pvon In thi> vegetable garden seeders for all kinds of seeds are now extensively used. The machines are pushed in front of the operator and they automatically drop and cover the seeds at the desired distances and depths and at the same time mark off the next row. Promptly after the crop is planted come the weeds. They once meant the hoe, blistered hands, weary backs and, in a wet season, a long and weary battle. Today the farmer has his choice from a great variety of cultivators, either guided by handles, the driver walking behind, or made with wheels and a seat, the driver riding in comfort. Thus corn and potatoes are ridged up and the ground is kept clean and in good condition. There are hand-cultivators worked -on the same principle as the hand-seeders, and there is a great variety of hoes, rakes and ploughs for the cultivation of special crops which have supplanted the I old hand tools on the great seed farms and market gardens. But it is when we come to tne narvest that we find the greatest marvels in mechanical Ingenuity. Everyone is familiar with the mower, the tedder and the horserake to save the hay crop. To these have been added the hay-gatherer and stacker, drawn by horse-power. To harvest and to press a ton of hay by hand requires thirty-five and a half hours of labor; with modern machinery, eleven hours and thirty-four minutes. The greatest saving is in the cutting and the curing of the crop, which by hand require eleven hours and by machinery one hour and thirtynine minutes. But it is the harvesting of the two great crops, wheat and corn, that the greatest advance in agricultural mechanics has been made. Drawn by horses, the self binder cuts an eightfoot swath across the field of ripened wheat. But instead of leaving it strewn behind as the mower does the grass, it gathers it and automatically binds it in bundles. Or, if a header be preferred, the heads of the standing grain are t-ken off cleanly and poured tn a sieaay stream tnrougn a cnuie t Into the wagon that is driven beside i it. . But even more than these?the 1 most spectacular scene of agricultural i progress is the combined harvester and and thresher which is used on the great grain ranches in California. As far as the eye can reach stretches a I sea of golden grain. It is a glorious sight, this immense plain of ripened wheat?the food of a nation awaiting < the hand of the reaper. Where are the harvesters who shall gamer a crop so I large? Measured by the methods of i 11 + Vi rirnKlom nf 1 ainau ctujici n &cuiii?ia i?v p*vMtvi.. isavlng such a crop seems hardly less ' than the emptying of the great lakes I with a dipper. But the steam harves- 1 ter moves steadily forward into It. On i one side the grain falls In a great < swath. It melts away before the ma- i Jestic advance of the machine. On the other side with the same regularity drop sacks of grain ready for the mill- ] er. The ranchman following with his 1 team picks up a sack filled with < threshed and winnowed wheat from i the very spot where but five minutes < before the wheat stalks stood in the < sunshine. In the broad path between I the standing grain and the line of brown sacks has passed one of the I greatest triumphs of American ma- ' chlnery, the combined harvester and J thresher.?World's Work. < , ? . I THE RAILROAD MAIL SERVICE. ] ( Every Pasaenger Train to Be Under 1 Protection of the Government. * 1 Postmaster General Payne, accord- 1 lng to a Washington letter to the New York Tribune,, has decided on an lm- portant step, which will practically 1 put the railroads of the country under 1 the protection of the United States 1 government and prevent Interference with Inter-State commerce by strlk- ( ers. This will be accomplished by making every railroad train a mall 1 train and by commissioning railroad conductors, baggage masters and oth- ' er trainsmen as employees of the Unl- 1 ted States postal service and empowering them to handle malls. ' Postmaster General Payne and Assistant Postmaster General Shallenber- ! ger have had the matter under consid- ' eration for several months. The aglta- ' tlon, however, which really led to the 1 adoption of the *new policy has been growing for several years, and like so ' many other important steps adopted ' by the postofflce department of late 1 years, Is the result of the tremendous growth of the rural free delivery ^service. This service has resulted In more j than quadrupling the circulation of 1 newspapers tnrougnoui me country m the period of six years. Protests wer6 received at the de- t partments from the entire country regarding the inefficiency of the mail train service. Officials have endeavored to devise a means of relief. After long consideration it was thought impossible to arrange any plan which j would prove satisfactory to the government, railroads, publishers of news- 1 papers and the millions of subscribers. 1 The fact that the government requires 1 all mails to pass through the post- 1 offices and handles them only in sealed mai.aUam 1 t'oo orroo toaf tO pUUt'lico rw aa vuv qiwwvvui. % ?* ?? ~ j the quick service desired, and in fact, ( to the sending of United States mails on any except mail trains. The postofflce officials declined to enter into an agreement whereby they ( would be responsible for mail not car- . rled in closed pouches and handled by sworn employees. Nothing was done j until Mr. Shallenberger gave the mat- ^ ter his personal consideration and de- , vised a new plan. It is really an am- ( pHflcation of the system used by the ( publishers of newspapers in sending out their mail editions. It has been the practice of publishers to intrust bundles of papers to trainmen on trains which do not carry mall, with instruc- , tions to throw off the packages at cer- j tain points. This system has not been , entirely satisfactory. The government has now decided to , assume the responsibility for the car- , riage and delivery of these newspapers J and will commission and pay salaries ( to the trainmen over and above the compensation received for the regular , work. In putting into effect this far- ( reaching policy each case where addl- ( tional facilities are needed will be con- , sidered separately. When the request for additional mall train facilities is received at the department an employee of the railway mail service will , be assigned to the case and will attend ( to the preliminaries of looking to the ( commissioning of trainmen as employees of the postal service and of arranging the schedules. Any train?passenger, local or freight ?will be empowered to carry malls, ' and the United States will hold itself responsible for their delivery. This means that In case of a strike every j i 1_ 1 ?1 1 . liciiu wiui'tl tallica iiicac apctiai uiauo will be Just as much under the authority and protection of the Federal government as through and local mall trains which run on a regular dally schedule, and when all the arrangements have been made and the plans of the department put Into effect there will be few trains which are not either regular or "special" mall trains. In case of interference with any of , these specials during the time of strike i or mob violence the United States must under the statutes afford it the same protection, by Federal troops if necessary, that has been and will be given to the regular mail trains. There are some preliminaries still to be arranged with railroads, but there Is not the slightest reason for doubt that the various systems will gladly avail themselves of the privilege extended to them for securing the almost absolute immunity from mob violence by Federal protection. The government will be permitted to settle upon the salary to be paid to the trainmen. At the coming session of congress, Postmaster General Payne will ask for a special appropriation to pay the salaries of these special employees. Ulltll BUfU mile, iiuncvci, tuc nauimen employed by the government will se paid out of the general fund of the railway mail service. HANK MONK'3 FAMOUS DRIVE. Horace Greeley's Stage Coach Ride Vividly Re-.Called By an Interesting World's Fair Exhibit. Correspondence ot the Yorkrille Enquirer. T s\ina Aiicmat IK Hanlr Monk. the stage driver of the pioneer days in the far west, was immortalized by Mark Twain in his "Roughing It" The stage coach in which Hank Monk ?ot Horace Greeley to Placerville "on time," and the gold watch that was presented to the intrepid Jehu because of his record-breaking trip, will be imong the interesting curios at the . World's Fair, St. Lolls, 1904. Mr. J. A. Yerrington of Carson City, Nevada's executive commissioner to the World's Fair, was in St. Louis a few lays ago and told Charlie M. Reeves, secretary of the states and territorial exhibit committee, that Nevada would exhibit among other interesting things, these famous Hank Monk relics. Hank Monk, as will be remembered toy everyone who has read Mark rwaln's first famous book. "Roughing [t," was the driver who was in charge of the stage that carried Horace Greely Into Placerville one evening in the latter sixties. Mr. Greeley was booked to deliver an address in that mining village at 7 o'clock. The trip was tedious ahd the great editor began to fear that he would not reach Placertdlle In time to keep his engagement He leaned out of the stage window ind asked the driver, Hank Monk, if tie could not entice a little more speed from the horses. The imperturbable driver leaned iown and replied: "Keep your seat, Horace, I'll get you there on time." How Hank Monk kept his word is graphically recorded by Mr. Clemens. Probably no trip over the mountains was ever made at such break-neck speed. The distinguished passenger was tossed around In the bounding stage coach like corn in a popper and there were those who declared that Mr. Greeley's head was forced through the root The trip was the topic of the entire coast country and some admirers of the celebrated driver bought him a handsome gold watch. Inside the case appears this inscription: Presented to Hank Monk in commemoration of his celebrated drive in landing Horace Greeley on time. "Keep your seat Mr. Greeley. Til get you there on time." At the time of the Greeley ride Hank Monk was in the employ of Dr. J. M. Benton of Carson City. Monk and Benton were close friends and when this old stage driver died the famous watch passed into the possession of Dr. Benton. Hank Monk was burled In the cemetery at Carson City. A plain sandstone slab marks the grave and in a niche cut in the stone may be seen a tintype portrait of the man who grot Horace Greeley in "on time." Mr. Yerrington has secured the watch from Mr. Benton and will have It on exhibition in the Nevada build ing. The other Hank Monk relic which will attract even more attention is the same old stage coach in which Horace Greeley took his famous ride. Mr. Yerrlngton was able to secure this and # It will be taken to the World's Fair and will be used as the coach of state by the Nevada officials. When distinguished guests reach St. Louis the old coach, with a driver of the pioneer day in typical costume, will be at Union Station and convey them all to the official Nevada home at the World's Fair grounds. Then every day the old coach may be seen dashing down the steep hill from the plateau of states to the mining gulch, where will be constructed a typical California mining camp of the Forty-Nine days. This trip will be made Just as it was many years ago, when the gold dust was daily taken from the mines to a place of safety. Mr. Yerrington says that Mark Twain Is almost worshipped out in Carson City. While he was known only by the name of Sam Clemens the author was a resident of' Carson and was employed in reportorlal capacity on a" paper in Carson owned by Mr. Yerrington's father. Much of the material for "Roughing It" was gathered In Ne.ada before fortune smiled on the sreat humorist. s. t. s. THEY GOT FREE SEATS. Order That Was Promptly Honored at the Box Office. Once when Nat Goodwin was playing in Chicago two men approached tiis manager who was standing in the lobby of the theater, and introduced hemselves as a couple of actors, rheir names were entirely unknown :o him, and they had nothing to show :hat they were what they claimed to je. Accordingly he refused to give :hem seats, but they were persistent, ^ne of the men In particular was offensively so. He shook his fist under :he manager's nose and demanded who t was that dared refuse him passes. "I'll see Mr. Goodwin," he declared. 'I'll see if a little whlpper snapper like ^ou can refuse me seats. You don't enow who we are, eh? Well, who are rou? Let's see your card. I'll see Mr. Goodwin about It." The manager, who feared a scene, landed over one of his cards and told :he men he was responsible and quite ivllling to take the consequences of refusing to give them seats. A few minutes later the two men name back to the theater. One of hpm hflH u'rlfton "Pnao t uta" nn tVia nanager's card. He presented the ?ard at the box office, and It was promptly honored. Then they went in. When, half an hour later, the manager's attention was called to what lad been done, he was at first inclined :o take some severe action, but later ne saw the Joke on himself. "Let them alone," he said. "If :hey've got nerve enough to do that, :hey are entitled to seats. You had _ setter send an usher down and ask hem if they wouldn't like a box."? Chicago Tribune.