Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

YORKVILLE ENQUIRER. ISSUED SEBKI-WEEKLT. l. m. grist's sons, Publishers. J % gteirs^aper: $or the $romotitm of the ^olitlral, JSorial, ^jgrkultttral, and Cflronteiirial gnfyrffts fl)| the f eople. j tkh^i"nG<^0pYykf1^!c^!t8ANCK' ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKVILLE, S. C., FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 1903. * NO. 73. ^^ ^ __ ^ By WILL N. HA Copyright, 1902, by Harper Bros. All r CHAPTER XXIII. R1AYBURN MILLER and Alan spent that day on thfe river pggjn' trying to catch fish, but with WwH no iuck at all, returning empty handed to the farmhouse for a late dinner. They passed the afternoon at target shooting on the lawn with rifles and revolvers, ending the day by a reckless ride on their home across the fields, over fences and ditches, after the manner of fox hunting, a sport not often Indulged in in that part of the country. In the evening, as they sat in the Dig sitting room smoking after supper cigars, accompanied by Abner Daniel, with his long, cane stemmed pine, Mrs. Bishop came into the room in hfr quiet way, smoothing her apron with her delicate hands. "Pole Baker's rid up an' hitched at the front gate," she said. "Did you send Mm to town fer anything, Alan?" "No, mother," replied her son. "1 reckon he's come to get more meat. Is father out there?" "I think he's some'r's about the stable," said Mrs. Bishop. Miller laughed. "I guess Pole isn't the best pay in the world, is he?" "Father never weighs or keeps account of anything he g(ts." said Alan "Thar's yore money! It's all lliar." "They both make a guess at it when cotton is sold. Father calls it 'lumplug' the thing, and usually Pole gets the lump. But he's all right, and 1 wish we could do more for him. Father was really thinking about helping him in some substantial way when the crash came"? "Thar!" broke in Daniel, with a gurgling laugh. "I've won my bet. I bet to myse'f Jest now that ten minutes , wouldn't pass 'fore Craig an' his bu'st up would be mentioned." "We have been at it, off and on, all day," said Miller, with a low laugh. "TLe truth is it makes me madder than anything I ever eucountered." "Do you know why?" asked Abner seriously, just as Pole Baker came through the dining room and leaned against the door jamb facing them. "It's beca'se"?nodding a greeting to Pole along with the others?"it's beca'se you know in reason that he's got that money." "Oh, I wouldn't say that!" protested Miller, in the tone of a man of broad experience in worldly affairs. "I wouldn't say that." "Well. I would, an' do," said Abner, in the full tone of decision. "I know he's got it!" "Well, yo're wrong thar. Uncle Ab." said Pole, striding forward and sinking into a chair. "You've got as good judgment as any man I ever run across. I thought like you do once. I'd 'a' tuck my oath that he had it about two hours by sun this evtnln'. but I kin swear he hain't a cent of it now." "Do you mean that. Pole':" Abner stared across the wide hearth at him fixedly. "He hain't got it. Uncle Ab." Pole was beginning to smile mysteriously. "tie uiu nave 11. uui ut mint i n now. I got it from 'itu. blast bis ugly pictur'!" "You got it?" gasped Daniel. "You?" "Yes. I made up my mind be bad it, an' it deviled me so much that I determined to have it by book or crook ef it killed me or put me in bock tbe rest o' my life." Pole rose and took a packet wrapped in brown paper from under his rough coat and laid it on tbe table near Alan. "Clod bless you, old boy." be said, "thar's yore money! It's all thar. I counted it. It's in fifties uii* hundreds." Breathlessly and with expanded eyes Akin broke tbe string about tbe packet and opened it. "Great God!" he muttered. Miller sprang up and looked at the stack of bills, but said nothing. Abner, leaning forward, uttered a little, low laugh. "You?you didn't kill 'im, did you, Pole, old boy?you didn't, did you?" he asked. "Didn't harm a hair of his head," said Pole. "All I wanted was Alan's money, an' thar It is!" T?"RT?1M Author of iKDCfD, " Westerfelt." ights reserved. "Well." grunted Daniel, 'Tm gla<T you spured his life. And I thank God you got the money." Miller was now hurriedly running over the bills. "You say you counted It, Baker?" he caiu, ptlie wuu pieaseu Mtueiucuu "Three times?fust when It was turned over to me an' twice on the way out heer from town." Mrs. Bishop had not spoken until now, standing In the shadows of the others, as If bewildered by what seemed a mocking Impossibility. "Is It our money?Is it our'n?" she Anally found voice to say. "Oh, Is It, Pole?" "Yes'm," replied Pole; "It's yo'rn." He produced a crumpled piece of paper and handed It to Miller. "Heer's Craig's order on his wife f? it, an' in it he acknowledges it's the cash deposited by Mr. Bishop. He won't give me no trouble. I've got 'im Axed. He'll leave Darley in the mornin'. He's afeerd this '11 git out an' he'll be lynched." Alan was profoundly moved. He transferred his gaze from the money to Pole's face and leaned toward him. "You did it out of friendship for me," he said, bis voice shaking. "That's what I did it fer, Alan, an' I wish I could do it over ag'in. When I laid hold o' that wad an' knowed It was the thing you wanted more'n anything else, I felt like Ayin'." "Tell us all about it. Baker," said Miller, wrapping up the stack of bills. "All right." said Pole, but Mrs. Bishop Interrupted him. "Walt fer Alfred," she said, her voice rising and cracking in delight. "Wait; I'll run And Mm." She went out through the dining room, toward the stables, calling her husband at every step. "Alfred! Oh, Alfred!" "Heer!" she heard him call out from one of the stables. She leaned over the fence opposite the closed door, behind which she bad heard his voice. "Oh, Alfred!" she called. "Come out. quick! I've got news fer you? big. big news!" .. . She heard him grumbling as he emptied some ears of corn into the trough of the stall containing Alan's favorite horse, and then with a growl he emerged into the starlight. "That fool nigger only give Alan's hoss six ears o' corn," he fumed. "I know, beca'se I counted the cobs. The boss had licked the trough clean an' gnawed the ends o' the cobs. The Idea o' starvin' my stock right before my"? "Oh, Alfred, what do yo8 think has happened?" his wife broke in. "We've got the bank money back! Pole Baker managed somehow to get It. He's goin' to teli about it now. Come on In!" Bishop closed the door behind mm. He fumbled with the chain and padlock for an instaut, then he moved toward her. his lips hanging, his eyes protruding. "I'll believe my part o' that when"? "But." she cried, opening the gate for him to pass through, "the money's thai- In the house on the table; it's been counted. 1 say it's thar! Don't you believe it?" The old man moved through the gate mechanically. He paused to fasten it with the iron ring over the two posts. But after that he seemed to lose the power of locomotion. He stood facing her. his features working. "I'll believe my part o' that cat-an'bull story when I see"? "Well, come in the house, then," she cried. "You kin lay yore hands on it an' count it. It's an awful big pile, an' uothiu' less than fifty dollar bills." Grasping his arm. she half dragged, half led him into the house. Entering the sitting room, he strode to the table and. without a word, picked up the package and opened it. He made an effort to count the money, but his fingers seemed to have lost their cunning and he gave it up. "It's all there." Miller assured him, "and it's your money. You needn't bother about that." Bishop sat down in bis place in the chimney corner, the packet on his knees, while Bole Baker modestly and not without touches of humor recounted his experiences. "The toughest job I had was managin' the woman." Bole laughed. "You kin always count on a woman to be contrary. I believe ef you was tryin* to git some women out of a burnin' house they'd want to have tbe'r wuy about it. She read the order an' got white about the gills an' screamed, low. so nobody wouldn't beer 'er, an' I.,... ifontu/l t/\ nv nnuctimlK That's lli? female of it. She knowed in reason that Craig was dead tixed an' couldn't git out until she complied with the instructions. but she wanted to know all about it. Then I told *er she'd be arrested for boldin' the money, an' that got her in a trot. She fetched it out purty quick. a-cryin* an' abusin' me by turns. As soon as the money left 'er hands, though, she begun to beg me to ride fast. I wanted to come heer fust, but 1 felt sorter sorry fer Craig, an' went an* let 'im out. He was the gladdest man to see me you ever looked at. He thought I was goin' to leave 'im thar. He looked like he wanted to hug me. He says Winship wasn't much to blame. They both got in deep water speculatiu', an' Craig was tempted to cabbage on the $20,000." When l'ole had concluded, the group sat in silence for a long time. It looked as If Bishop wanted to openly thank Pole for whut he had done, but he had never done such a tiling In the presence of others, and he could not pull himself to it He sat crouched up in his tilted chair as if burning up with the joy of his release. The silence was broken by Abner Daniel as he filled his pipe anew and stood over the fireplace. "They say money's a cuss an' the root of all evil," he said dryly, "but In this case it's give Pole Baker thar a chance to show what's in 'im. I'd 'a' give the last cent I have to 'a' done iwbat he did today. I grant you he used deception, but it was the fust wateo sort that that Bible king resorted to when he made out he was goln' to divide that baby by cuttin' it in halves. He fetched out the good an' squelched the bad." Abner glanced at Pole and gave one of his Impulsive inward laughs. "My boy, when I reach t'other shore 1 expect to see whole strings cf sech lawbreakers as you a-playin' leapfrog on the golden sands. You don't sing an' pray a whole lot, nur keep yore religion in sight, but when thar's work to be done you shuck off yore shirt an' do it like a wildcat a-scratcb in No one spoke after this outburst for several minutes, though the glances cast In his direction showed the embarrassed ex-moonshiner that one and all had sanctioned Abner Daniel's opinion. Bishop leaned forward and looked at n the clock, and, seeing that it was 9, he tl put the money in a bureau drawer and turned the key. Then he took down h the big family Bible from Its shelf and " sat down near the lamp. They all a knew what the action portended. h P CHAPTER XXIV. b BOUT a week after the events ^ recorded in the preceding A chapter old man Bishop, Just jj at dusk one evening, rode up ^ to Pole Baker's humble domicile. Pole was in the front yard making a fire of sticks, twigs and chips. "What's that fer?" the old man queB- B[ tloned as he dismounted and bitched 8 his horse to the worm fence. "To drive off mosquitoes," said Pole, wiping his eyes, which were red from ^ the effects of the smoke. "I'll never pass another night like the last un ef J I kin he'p it. I 'lowed my hide was 1 thick, but they bored fer oil all over me from dark till sun-up. I never 've ^ tried smoke, but Hank Watts says it's ahead o' pennyr'yal." "Shucks!" grunted the planter. "You ' ain't workin' it right. A few rags burnin' in a pan nigh yore bed may drive 'em out. but a smoke out heer in * the yard '11 Jest drive 'em in." e "What?" said Pole in high disgust ? "Do you expect me to sleep sech hot h weather as this is with a fire nigh my ^ bed? The durn things may eat me raw, but I'll be blamed ef I barbecue myse'f to please 'em." c Mrs. Baker appeared in the cabin b door holding two of the youngest chil- s dren by their hands. "He won't take b my advice, Mr. Bishop," she said. "I t Jest rub a little lamp oil on my face an' d hnnria nn' thpv don't tetch me." f Pole grunted and looked with laugh- o lng eyes at the old man. b "She axed me t'other night why I'd t quit kissin' 'er," he said. "An' I told s 'er I didn't keer any more fer kerosene e than the mosquitoes did." n Mrs. Baker laughed pleasantly as 6he brought out a chair for Bishop and it Invited him to sit down. He complied, n twirling his riding whip in his band, b From his position, almost on a level o with the door, he could see the interior e of one of the rooms. It was almost t bare of furniture. Two opposite cor- n ners were occupied by crude bedsteads; e in the center of the room was a cradle ? made from a soapbox on rockers sawed J from rough poplar boards. It had the e appearance of having been in use o fbwAMffb ciararo 1 crnnorn tlnn a Npn r it P stood a spinning wheel and a three o legged stool. The sharp steel spindle gleamed in the firelight from the big h log ant! mud chimney. v "What's the news from town, Mr. o Bishop?" Pole asked awkwardly, for it c struck him that Bishop had called to b talk with him about some business and was reluctant to introduce it. B "Notbln' that interests any of us, I 1 reckon, Pole," said the old man, "ex- r cept that I made that investment in a Shoal Cotton factory stock." i "That's good," said Pole, in the tone I of anybody but a man who had never o invested a dollar in anything. "It's all hunkey, an' my opinion is that it '11 a never be wuth less." 8 "I did heer, too," added Bishop, "that s it was reported that Craig had set up a little grocery store out in Te.\:,.% nigh 1 the Indian Territory. Some thinks that r Wiuship '11 turn up thar an' jine 'ini, J but a body never knows what to be- r lieve these days." c "That shore is a fact," opined Pole. "Sally, that corn bread's a-burnin'. Ef c you'd use less lamp oil, you'd smell bet- f ter." e Mrs. Baker darted to the fireplace, raked the live coals from beneath the t cast iron oven and Jerked off the lid in a cloud of steam and smoke. She ' turned over the pone with the aid of a t case knife and then came back to the 1 rlnnr t "Fer the last month I've had my eye 1 on the Baseome farm," Bishop was Having. "There's a hundred acre* 1 even. some good bottom land and up- 1 land an' in the neighborhood o' thirty 1 acres o' good wood. Then thar's a live room house, well made an' tight, an' a t barn, cowhouse an' stable." I "Lord! I know the place like a i book," said Pole, "an* it's a dandy in- ] vestment, Mr. Bishop. They say he 1 offered it fer tifteen hundred. It's wuth two thousand. You won't drap i any money by buy ill' that property, i Mr. Bishop. I'd hate to contract to j build jest the house an' veil an' outhouses fer a thousand." j "I bought it," Bishop told him. "He let me have it fer a good deal less 'n < fifteen hundred, cash down." ; "Well, you mude a dandy trade, j Mr. Bishou. Ah, that's whut ready j " Well, it's yores." he sahl. loney will do! When you got the easn, kings seem to come at bottom figures." Old Bishop drew a folded paper from is pocket and slapped it on his knee. Yes, I closed the deal this evenin', n' I whs jest ,a-thinkin' that as you ain't rented fer uext yeer?I mean"? Sishop was hrdJnarily direct of speech, ut somehow liis words became tanled aud he delivered himself awkwardly on this occasion. "You see, dan thinks that you 'n Sally ort to ve in a better house than Jest this eer log cabin, an"? The wan face of the tired woman ras aglow with expectation. She ank down on the doorstep and sat till and mute, her bands clasping each ther in her lap. She hud always disked that cabin and its sordid surDundings, and there was something in iishop's talk that made her think he ras about to propose renting tue new arm, bouse and all, to ber husband, ler mouth fell open; she scarcely al>wed herself to breathe. Then, as iishop paused, her husband's voice truck dumb dismay to her heart. It ras as If she was falling from glowing ope back to tasted despair. "Thar's more land In that farm 'an could do jestlce to, Mr. Bishop, but f thar's a good cabin on It an' you see t to cut off enough fer me an* one oss I'd Jest as soon tend that as this eer. I want to do what you an' Alan hlnk Is best all round." "Oh, Pole, Pole!" The woman was rylng It to herself, her face lowered to er hands that the two men might not ee the agony written In her eyes. A louse like that to live in, with all hose rooms and fireplaces and wlnows with panes of glass In them! She ancled she saw ber children playing n the tight, smooth floors and on the loneysuckled porch. For one minute hese things had been hers, to be natched away by the callous Indiffernce of her husband, who, alas, had ever cared a straw for appearances! "Oh, I wasn't thinkin' about rentin' t to you!" said Bishop. And the wolan's dream was over. She raised her lead, awake again. "You see," went m Bishop, still struggling for proper xpresslon, "Alan thinks ? well, he hlnks you are sech a born fool about ot acceptin' help from them that feels ilgh to you an', I may as well say, [rateful, exceedingly grateful, fer what ou've done, things that no other llvin* I nan could 'a' done?Alan thinks you rt to have the farm fer yore own proprty, an' so the deeds has been made ut to"? Pole drew himself up to his full ielght. His big face was flushed, half pith anger, half with a strong emotion f a tenderer kind. He stood towering iver the old man like a giant swayed iy the warring winds of good and evil. "I won't heer a word more of that, dr. Bishop," he said, with a quivering lp?"not a word more. By golly, 1 aeon what I say! I don't want to heer nother word of It, This heer place is ;ood enough fer me an' my family, t's done eight yeer. an' It kin do anther eight." "Oh, Pole, Pole, Pole!" The wornin's cry was now audible. It came tralght from her pent up, starving oul and went right to Bishop's heart. "You want the place, don't you, Saly?" he said, calling her by her given lame for the first time, as If he had ust discovered their kinship. He could >ot have used a tenderer tone to child >f his own. "Mind, mind what you say, Sally!" irdored Pole from the depths of his ighting emotion. "Mind what you ;ay!" The woman looked at Bishop. Her fiance was on fire. "Yes. I want It?I want It!" she cried. 'I ain't goln' to lie. I want it more ight now than I do the kingdom of leaven. I want It e we have a right o it. Oh. I don't know!" She dropped ler head in her lap and began to sob. Bishop stood up. He moved toward ler in a jerky fushion and laid his land on the pitifully tight knot of hair it the back of her head. "Well, it's yores," he said. "Alan :hought Pole would raise a kick about it an' me an' him bad It made out n yore name, so he couldn't tetch it. [t's yores, Sally Ann Baker. That's :ke way it reads." The woman's sobs increased, but :hey were sobs of unbridled Joy. With tier apron to her eyes she rose and hurried Into the house. The eyes of the two men met. Bishop spoke first: "You've got to give in, Pole," he said. "You'd not be a man to stand betwixt pore wife an' a thing she wants as bad as she does that place, an' by all that's rood an' holy, you sh&'n't!" "What's the use o' me tryln' to git even with Alan." Pole exclaimed, "ef he's eternally a-goln' to git up some'n? I've been tickled to death ever since I cornered old Craig till now, but you an' him has sp'iled It all by this beer trick. It ain't fair to me." "Well, It's done," smiled the old man as he went to his horse, "an' ef you don't live thar with Sally I'll make 'er git a divorce." Bishop had reached a little pigpen In a fence corner farther aloug on his way home when Mrs. Baker suddenly emerged from a patch of high corn In front of him. "Is he a-goln' to take it, Mr. Bishop?" she asked, panting from her hurried walk through the corn that hid her from the view of the cabin. "Yes," Bishop told her. "I'm a-goin' to send two wagons over in the morn In' to move yore things. I wish it was ten times as good a place as It is, but it will insure you an' the children a llvin' an* a comfortable homo." After the manner of many of her kind, the woman uttered no words of thanks, but simply turned back into the corn, and, occupied with her own vision of prosperity and choking with gratitude, she hurried back to the cabin, TO BE CONTINUED. ittiscrUancmts Starting. HINTS ON GOOD ENGLISH. Mistakes Commonly Made By Writers and Speakers. Numbers of people who ought to know better speak of this paper as a "Journal." It Is not, for it is published weekly, and there can be no such ~ ~ lAitnnnl Tko nrJol tiling <t? cx w ccaij' juui new. x nv v? ??? nal form of the word Journal was "diurnal"?from the Latin "dies," a day?and it meant a sheet published or written every day. A dairy?also from "dies"?is often called a Journal, because you are supposed to enter up the record of each day, and generally don't. Remembering that "jour" in French means "day" might aid in preventing one from speaking about a "weekly journal." Reading the account of a fashionable wedding in a fashionable paper the other day, I noticed that "the centre aisle was lined with non-commissioned officers and men of the bridegroom's regiment." Very nice; but there happens to be no such thing as a centre aisle in a church. The aisles are invariably at the sides; and what the reporter meant by the "centre aisle" was the nave. Aisle comes, from a Latin word meaning wing, and it is obvious that wings are at the sides. Lots of people Just now are advertising In the papers for "paying guests." The essence of being a guest is that you do not pay for anything; and if you do so pay, you certainly cannot be deemed a guest. If a man Introduces me into his club as his guest, I do not expect to pay for what I may consume there; and when I read that Lady-So-and-So's riverside residence is full of guests for the week-end, I do not understand that the charming hostess will present a little bill ere her friends set out to catch the train to town on Monday. This expression, "paying-guests," is justified on no grounds whatever, and is as much a contradiction as the hideous mixup, "his wrong side of the road," which one often hears in connection with street happenings." Motorists, coachmen, cyclists and pedestrians, in discussing the rule of the road, are very prone to make use of inis ouviuusiy uuiuioukiuiji If a man is on "his" side of the road, how can it be "wrong?'^ And if it is "wrong," it certainly is not "his." I once heard a worried cloak room attendant calling out: "Has any gentleman got his wrong hat?" The same thing applies: but I am afraid the mistake is too firmly welded into our national speech ever to be uprooted. Another common mistake is to speak of any object as "most unique." There can be no degrees in uniqueness, for if a thing is unique there is only one of it. Some speakers and writers seem to have a deal of trouble with the simple looking little word "nee." If they would remember thi^^Jt is simply French for "born," confusion might be spared them. To speak of "Mrs. Henry Brown, nee Miss Mary Smith," is obviously wrong, for nobody in this world was ever born with a Christian name all complete. The most gorgeous blunder on record in this connection was made by a writer who mentioned "Mrs. Cornwallis-West, nee Lady Randolph Churchill." We all know that the lady in question is a most brilliant woman; but even she would hardly be clever enough to be born already married to the late Inventor of Tory Democracy. You very frequently hear young ladies who ought to know better say things like this: "Father is going to take Eva and I to the theatre." One has even seen a sentence like this in print, but it is obviously wrong. You would not say. "Father is going to take I to the theatre." And though you are polite enough to put Eva before yourself, the verb "take" still governs the accusative, as those tiresome old grammarians call it, and therefore " Father is going to take Eva and me to the theatre" is the correct form. "Neither of us has been" sounds clumsy somehow, but, nevertheless, il is perfectly correct, as "neither" must be singular, and not plural. In common speech we often put our prepositions at the end of the sentence, where they have no business, thus producing such an amazing query as this: "Whal would you like to be read to out of?' ?London Answers. <t?*The railroad car will carry as much as twenty teams of horses could haul, and the great ocean steamers will transport as much at 400 railroad cars can carry. WASHINGTON AN ADVERTI8ER. Knew How to Show the Advantages of the Land He Had to Lease. The Baltimore American in celebrating the one hundred and thirtieth anniversary of the birth of the Maryland Journal and Baltimore Advertiser, which was the precursor of the American, publishes a facsimile of the first issue. It bore date Friday, August 20, 1773. The Journal and Advertiser was a small folio of three wide columns to the page, and excellently printed. This paper was the first to be published in Baltimore. Of course, there was then no city of Washington, and even the name Washington had not yet reached the great fame to which it afterward attained. Yet one of the most noteworthy things about this old-time newspaper .Is that Its largest advertiser was George Washington. He was then In his forty-first year, and was In the real estate business on a very extensive scale. His advertisement was dated "Mount Vernon, in Virginia, July 15, 1773," and announced that the subscribed, "having obtained patents for upwards of twenty thousand acres of land on the Ohio and lireat n.anim\va ^icii niuuoauu vi which are situated on the banks of the first mentioned river, between the mouths of the two Kanhawa, and the remainder on the Great Kanhawa, or New river, from the mouth, or near it, upward in one continued survey) proposes to divide the same into any sized tenements that may be desired and lease them upon moderate terms, allowing a reasonable number of years' rent free, provided, within the space of two years from next October three acres for every fifty contained In each lot, and proportlonably for a lesser quantity, shall be cleared, fenced, and tilled; and that, by or before the time limited for the commencement of the first rent, five acres for every hundred, and proportlonably, as above, shall be inclosed and laid down in good grass for meadow, and moreover, that at least fifty good fruit trees for every like quantity of land shall be planted on the premises." Would-be purchasers were told to apply to "George Washington, near Alexandria," or in his absence to Mr. Lund Washington. The later was Gen. Washington's favorite cousin and the great-grandfather of the late Col. L. Q. Washington of this city. General?then colonel?Washington was an excellent "ad" writer, and his style might be studied to advantage by some real estate sellers of today. He suggestively intimated that "any person inclined to settle on these lands would do well in communicating their intentions before the first of October next in order that a sufficient number of lots may be laid off to answer the demand." Then followed an ornate description of the good thing he had to oner, wnicn it wouia irouDie any 01 the moderns to beat by way of Inducements. He said: "As these lands are among the first which have been surveyed In the part of the country they lie in, It Is almost needless to premise that none can exceed them in luxuriance of soil, or convenience of situation, all of them lying upon the banks either of the Ohio or Kanhawa, and abounding with fine fish and wild fowl of various kinds, as also in most excellent meadows, many of which (by the bountiful hand of nature) are, In their present state, almost fit for the scythe. From every part of these lands water carriage is now had to Fort Pitt, by an easy communication, and from Fort Pitt, up the Monongahela to Redstone, vessels of convenient burden, may and do pass continually; from whence, by means of the Cheat river, and other navigable branches of the Monongahela, it Is thought the portage to Potomac may, and will, be rediibed within the compass of a few miles to the great ease and convenience of the settlers in transporting the produce of their lands to market. To which may be added, that as patents have now actually passed the seals for the several tracts here offered to be leased, settlers on them may cultivate and enJoy the lands In peace and safety, notU'lthotnnrllnff ?ho iinaottlort Amin.qpln respecting a new colony on the Ohio; and as no right money is to be paid for these lands, and qultrent of two shillings sterling a hundred, demandable some years hence only, it Is highly presumable that they will always be held upon a more desirable footing than where both these are laid on with a very heavy hand. And it may not be amiss further to observe, that if the scheme for establishing a new government on the Ohio, In the manner talked of. should ever be effected, hese must be among the most valuable lands in it. not only on account of the goodness of soil, and the other advantages above enumerated, but from their contiguity to the seat of government, which more than probable will be fixed at the mouth of the Great Kanhawa."?Washington Star. i i Tillman Explains.?W. E. King, a i Turkish-Bath manager, of Norfolk, i Va.. has given out a letter he has received from Senator Tilman with reference to the latest free pass incident. ( The story is that King wrote Mr. Till> man that he would not believe the sto( ry until it was confirmed by the senator himself, and in reply he Is said i to have sent the following in an auto; graph letter from Trenton, S. C., under ; date of September 1: "All the hullabaloo which has been kicked up recently had for a founda; tlon the fact that I lost a card case ; containing passes over the Chicago, ; Burlington and Quincy system which ' I had never used. I notified the railroad so they could protect themselves from any impostors. My record in , Washington will show whether or not I the use of such courtesies has influ| enced my actions or utterances. A i man who can be bought with a pass can be bought with money. My opin ion is that the great notoriety ana publicity given to the simpli incident grew out of the fact I wai pushing Burton very hard on the raci question and the Republican papers seized on this opportunity to create a diversion and it is notorious that my enemies never let slip an opportunity to abuse and misrepresent me." TRAMPS CAPTURE TUAIN. Run It Thirty-fivs Miles and Wind Up In Jail. With clubs for weapons a party of a dozen tramps captured (i Reading Railro;id company's freight train running between Bound Brook end Trenton the other day and by fusilades of ears of corn, watermelons, potatoes and apples repulsed a force of the compaay's workmen who trisd to retake it. After the train had been kept going continuously from Belle Meale, where it was captured, to Trenton Junction, a distance of about thirty-five miles, three constables and three jollcemen, summoned by telegraph, defeated the tramps in a hand to hand fght and took three prisoners. The other nine escaped. The train was a regular freight from Bound Brook to Trenton, stopping at all stations to tako on the produce of the Jersey marker gardeners for the Trenton and Ph.ladelphia markets. When the train came to u halt at Belle Meade the tramps came out of the woods with a whoop. Four of them climbed into the engine cab and five more into the caboose, where were the conductor and three other members of the train crew. The remainder of the tramp squad climb-ki on top of the cars or into them. Few of the cars were locked because of :he stops made at such short distances for taking on freight. Along the tracks on the way to Trenton Junction the train had to pass at least five gangs of workingmen. On approaching any of these gangs of workmen the engineer risked the blow of cudgels and slowed the train, while other members of the crew shouted lustily: . "Help us! Tramps have captured the train!" At no time did any of the gangs of workmen refuse to attempt 1o recapture the train from the tranps, but every attempt proved futile. Watermelons burst over the head of the attacking parties; potatoes tnd hard apples struck them in their ;yes and UII (.XICII uuoco* As the train halted at the junctioir the police rushed aboard. Th* tramps made a desperate fight agalmit arrest Two constables and a pbliceman were knocked unconsciousr ' The clubs of the policemen and constables cut long gashes in the heads of the tramps. The fight lasted for more then fifteen minutes.?Exchange. AN EIGHTEEN FOOT PIPE. Will Hold a Whole River For Nearly Six Thousand Feet Steel Is the material to be used by the Ontario Power company in the construction of its proposed big flume on the Canadian side at Niagara Falls. This flume will be one of the largest steel pipes in the world. It will have a diameter of 18 feet and will be 5,880 feet long. The steel plates from which it will be made have a thlc'cness of half an Inch and in putting them together over 200 .tons of rivets will be used. Its diameter is so largo that it would be impossible to put it together at any machine shop and ship it to Niagara, and so a temporary plant for building it will be erected on the Canadian side at Niagara. This temporary plant will consist of . a power house, a machine shop, boiler shop, office and boarding house. To carry the parts from the shops to the point where they will enter Into the large flume or pipe a tempon.ry railroad will be built along the route of ho fliimo tn hanHle tho st#pl. It is such a mammoth contract that to build the flumes will take from ten to sixteen months. % It was Intimated some little time ago that the Ontario Power company would use California redwood In the construction of this flume. It was also intimated that other woods have favor, and the fact Is a careful search was made and a thorough lnventlgatlon made of other notable flumes carrying water In the country. Thes? flumes are not so numerous In the east as they are In the west, but after all the research steel has been adopted as the material to be used. Advocates of wood claimed that a steel flume would rust and rot quicker than a flume made of wood; but the fact was evident that should the flume be built of w<>od steel hoops would have to be used :o make it firm, and these stood just is much chance of going to pieces as the allsteel flume. The flume will extend from the forebay of the Ontario Power company along the base of a blufT at the rear of Victoria Park to a point Just below Table Rock, the famous view point, and there its waters will be diverted through penstocks to turbinesvto be installed in a power house at the water's edge. The flume, from an engineering point, will be well worth watching during the construction, for no doubMt will have important features.? r iiiiciutipuiu. nccui u. Breaking In New Engines.?fhe Southern railway was aiso handicapped by not being able to secure locomotives ordered long ago. The shops , had more than they could do and our orde- -s were delayed. Many new engines have been delivered, however, i and as these are broken in we are able to make better time. You know a new , engine is like, a colt that ha:3 never been trained. " It must be broken. It 1 has got to be acquainted with every : stitch of the track, it must know the curves and the grades and they are never assigned to passenger runs until they are ready to do the work of 1 veterans."?Col. W. A. Turk I'- interview with Charlotte News.