Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, August 03, 1906, Image 1
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ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKVILLE, S. C, FRIDAY, AIJ?T 1ST 3, 190B. ~ NO. 62.
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THE J?
A Siory of the Time*
Alexander
BY JERE
CHAPTER XV.
"Strange partings hath this world;
and yet
Stranger meetings."
During the period referred to In the
last chapter, one evening as Colonel
Burr was about closing his office to re?
*? Dtnhmnnrl
pair lO (lis rroiucnwc ?* ?...
Hill, he was acSosted by a shabbilydressed
man, who inquired if his
name was Burr. Upon receiving an
affirmative answer, he said that he had
called to see him on business of urgent
importance, and asked permission to
close the door.
"I never attend to business at this
hour," replied Colonel Burr. "It is the
time at which I always return to my
family. You must call again tomorrow."
"I may not be able to call tomorrow,
and my mission must be discharged
now."
At the same time he raised a broad
slouched hat from his head, and exhibited
a strongly-marked countenance,
rendered still more striking by a deep
scar from the left eye to the right
cheek.
"Do you know me?" he asked, after
allowing Colonel Burr a short time 'to
peruse his features.
"Yours Is not a face to be easily
forgotten" was the reply, "even 11 i
had less cause to remember It. Your
name Is Jenkins; and it was at your
cabin in the Highlands, that I was
sheltered in times less peaceful than
these."
"Your memory Is a good one?almost
as good as if you had some cause to
hate me. Do you reoollect also the
man who brought you there?"
"Alexis Durand?my preserver? Assuredly
I do."
"Ah! I see he knew you better than
J did. I thought you were like the
world iq general, and In your prosperity
would forget, or scorn to recognize,
two poor Tories who had helped you at
a pinch. He said no. He was right
and I was wrong."
"Did he send you here?"
"He did; and here Is a token that he
said you would remember," replied
Jenkins, at the same time extending
- * ? -I? *Mklak /XvUnnl Di!..r
Hie mnje seal iihs " !??-?? vwiuuvi
had presented to Durand when they
parted in 1779. "He is in trouble." continued
Jenkins, "and it is on his business
that 1 wish to talk with you."
"This must be attended to," said
Burr, after assuring himself that the
ring was the same. "Sit down and
wait a minute."
Colonel Burr walked to the door and
soon returned with a messenger, to
whom he delivered a hasty note to his
wife; then, locking the door, he said
briefly?
"Now, Mr. Jenkins, what can I do
for Durand?"
"He wants to see you himself."
"Then why did he not come with
you?"
"Because he is locked up between
four stone walls, with a pair of iron
bracelets on his w-rists, and another on
his ankles."
"In prison! For what?"
"For what he Is as Innocent of as
you are. For murder."
"For murder! How do you know he Is
innocent, Jenkins? It was said, In
days gone by, that he valued human
life at a cheap rate, and those who remember
him then will believe the present
charge on slender proof."
"That Is the worst of It, sir. No one
can deny that his hand is redder than
It is prudent to talk about now, and
though he has been pardoned for that,
the men who are to try him may hang
him upon the old account, when he is
innocent of the new offense; for he is
innocent, sir; though you must learn
the rest from him. I can tell you no
more."
"Let us ?ro to him then. I must see
him at once."
"I am sorry to let you go alone, colonel.
but It is not safe for me to be
seen too often near the city prison. I
risked it once today on Durand's account.
but I do not care to risk it
again. The fact is, I am not on the
best terms with the officers of the law,
and do not care to encounter them
unnecessarily."
"I understand; but I may need you,
and I wish to know where you are to
be found."
"That is uncertain. I will come to
your house tomorrow night at 10
o'clock, if that will suit you; and it
you think then that you will have any
further business with me, I will leave
an address which will enable you to
find me at pleasure."
After a moment's thought, Burr replied:
"That will do. Here," he continued.
extending a handful of gold tc
Jenkins, "take this and provide yourself
with a better suit of clothes."
Jenkins took the money reluctantly,
saying. "Necessity, colonel, knows nc
law. I ought not to take this money
but I cannot serve you as you will expect
unless I do; and, besides, as it
will be necessary for me to keep very
quiet for a time I may need it foi
bread."
"Keep it. man, without scruple. Th<
shelter of your roof was once worth
more than a hundred times the sum
to me. I am still largely in your debt.'
When Jenkins departed. Colone
Burr locked his office and walked directly
to the city prison. It was pasi
the usual hour for the admission ol
visitors, but the jailer abated his rub
in favor of a practitioner of such wel
known eminence, and conducted hln
to the cell of Alexis Durand.
"I am sorry to see you in thi!
plight." said Burr taking the mena
cled hand of the prisoner. "I hope yoi
have done nothing to deserve it."
"It is very kind of you. colonel,'
replied Durand. inclosing the hand o
his visitor in a grasp as hard as thi
Iron which fettered his own. "It i:
very kind of you to come within thesi
gloomy walls to comfort a frlendles:
man; but I always said that you ha<
the best heart of any who ever serve*
In George Washington's army."
"Thank you for your good opinion
IVALS.
s of Aaron Burr and
Hamilton.
CLEMENS.
Jenkins informed me that you were arrested
on a charge of murder, of
which, he insists, you are miiutcm.
In that case I want you to begin at
the beginning and tell me everything,
omitting nothing because it may seem
unimportant to you. I must judge of
that, and to judge correctly, I must
know the whole."
"Well, sir, after I had put you in
the Mlddlebrook road, I went back to
my comrades and served the king
faithfully until the end of the war. I
had been too active a foe to hope
for speedy forgiveness; and Jenkins
was more obnoxious to the victorious
Whigs than I was, for he had plundered.
burned, and hung without mercy,
whereas I had only killed in open
fight. Both, however, were in peril,
and we agreed to repair to New York,
enlist in the British army and go
with It to Europe. Unfortunately, we
arrived too late. They had been gone
three days when we reached here.
There was no alternative but to make
our way back to the Highlands.
where we hid for months, sometimes
sleeping in Jenkins's cabin, and
sometimes In the hollows and lonely
riana with which were acaualnted.
D,V""I " * ?
Occasionally we would venture down
to the houses of known Tories, who
lived unmolested In the country because
they had not taken up arms
during the war, and from them we obtained
clothing: and provisions. In
this way months went over. Our
fears had subsided to some extent,
and we lived constantly In the cabin,
trusting to its remote situation to escape
observation; or, if that failed, to
our own watchfulness to guard
against surprise. One night we were
alarmed by the barking of the
dogs, and had barely time to escape
to the bushes before the house was
surrounded by armed men, who, finding
that the inmates had fled, first
stripped it of everything it contained
and then burned it to the ground. 1
was hid behind the rocks within one
Knn/)rA/1 uor/^o nf Iho annt mv rlflp
in my hand; their forms were distinctly
marked against the blazing
fire?and yet I did not shoot. There
was a time when all of them would
not have left that burning pile alive.
It was a sore temptation, but I let
them escape, because I had hoped of
being permitted to live in peace in
the pursuit of some honest calling,
and did not wish to incur other disabilities
than those that were already
hanging over me. I do not know
who was the prime mover in the business.
though I have latterly suspected
the man who will appear as
the principal witness against me."
"What was his name?" asked Colonel
Burr, for the first time interrupting
the speaker.
"John Roberts. I have no proof
against him. and therefore have twice
kept Bill Jenkins's knife from his
throat. He had been a Tory, but took
time by the forelock, and made his
peace with General McDougall before
the troubles were over."
"When was that?"
"About the last of 1780. He was a
Westchester man."
"I remember him. Go on."
"He knew that Jenkins and I had
both saved some money. He knew
that we would not keep it in the cabin,
or in any other place where it
could be easily found. He pretended
great friendship for us, and several
times sold us provisions. If we were
captured, he probably thought he could
obtain our secret from us, pocket the
money, and leave us to hang. This
though, is suspicion only. I have no
proof, as I said before."
Colonel Burr made a memorandum
in his pocket-book and again, requested
Durand to proceed.
"We remained in the mountains two
days, then dug up our money and
walked to this city, where we had
few acquaintances, and where we
thought we would be lost in the crowd
of strangers who were flocking here.
We took lodgings in a cheap boardinghouse
close to the water's edge, and
i n f ha aniircc. r\t a mnnfh T hon trh t o
%iiv vvutuv vi a uivil ill & v u
wherry and began the trade of a waterman.
Jenkins at first worked with
me, and we did very well. At last
he became acquainted with a gang of
desperate men, and took to worse
courses. He changed his boardingi
house, and left me. I continued at the
' business, saving a little each month,
and gradually growing contented with
my lot. In the mean time I had ob,
tained a pardon for the part I had
taken in the war, and had no cause for
uneasiness, except on Jenkins's account.
His murdered wife was my sis?
ter, and from that fatal hour I had
clung to him as brother rarely cleaves
to brother. I hunted him up, and tried
, to drag him from the dens of infamy
, he frequented. He would not hear
, me. I then learned that John Rob.
erts had also come to New York, and
: was one of his associates, though Bill
- seemed to have an instinctive hatred
. of the man. I don't know what made
him suspect him, but he came to me
; one day and said that Roberts was the
i man who brought upon us the party
i who burned our cabin, and that he in
tended to kill him for it. It took long
I and urgent persuasion to induce him
. to abandon his intention. At another
t time he came to me and said that
r Roberts must not live. Again I interj
posed and saved him. This brings me
1 down to the time of the murder: and
? here I suppose you wish me to be more
particular."
3 "Tell it exactly in your own way,
- and give me your observations precisely
i as they occurred to you at the time
and since, omit nothing."
"I lodged in the house of a Gerf
man. whose name was Franz Klink.
i It was a two-story house fronting the
s water, with two rooms below and two
e above. In the front room below he
s sold vegetables and groceries of the
1 various kinds used by sailors. The
1 back room was his eating-room, and
back of that again was a shed-room,
l used as a kitchen. He slept in the
front room up stairs, and I In the
rear. The woman who cooked for us
always went home to sleep. There
was no other person about the house,
which was seldom kept open later
than nine o'clock at nighc. When It
was necessary for me to be out later
than that hour, he gave me the key of
the shed-room, and I entered through
the back yard, which was also used
as a lumber yard. Just one week ago
John Roberts came to see me. It
was not dark, though I was lying
down, for I had been hard at work,
and was very tired. He told me that
a man had been knocked down and
robbed the night before; that Bill Jen
kins was suspected, and that, In consequence,
he was lying hid In a
house he mentioned In another part
of the city. He said that Bill had sent
for me, and mentioned ten o'clock
as the hour at which he would expect
me. Before I had time to question
him further. Franz came up with a
light, and, saying that supper was
ready, invited Roberts to Join us.
He declined, and added that he would
wait there until I had finished my
meal. When I came back, he was
lying carelessly across the foot of my
bed. I suggested to him that it was
unnecessary to wait until ten o'clock,
and proposed that we should go and
see Jenkins together. He replied
that he had some business which he
must attend to before that hour;
moreover, that It would be useless to
go sooner, because there would be a
number of loungers about the premises,
and the landlord would not admit
me to the private part of the
house. Then, giving me a password,
and directions how to find the house,
he took his hat to go. I went down
stairs with him, and, having still several
hours on my hands, I took a
seat on the counter and entered into
conversation with Franz. Customers
were coming in, making small purchases,
and going out. Some of
these I knew, and talked to them
about the news of the day and other
indifferent matters. Toward ten
o'clock, I told Franz that I was going
out, and, borrowing a stout club that
he usually kept behind the counter,
I took the key of the back shed and
left the house. As I did so, a man
with the collar of his coat turned up,
and buttoned close about his ears, ,
walked quickly by me. From his form
and gait, I took him to be Roberts and
called him by name. He did not answer,
and, supposing that I was mis- ,
taken, I walked on. It took me some
time, wandering about in a filthy, suspicious
locality, to find the house to
which I had been directed. Upon ]
knocking at the door, and giving the
password, I was admitted to a room
in which there were four or five men
and as many women, evidently of the
worst description, some of whom were
smoking: and others drinking ale.
Not perceiving Jenkins among them,
I took the landlord aside and inquired
where he was. He replied that he
had gone out about an hour before,
and left word that if any one called
for him, he must wait until his return.
When this reply was made, I
knew that the man was lying, or that
Roberts had lied. One or the other was
certain, for I could not be persuaded
that Bill Jenkins would leave the
house, after sending for me, before I ,
came. Nevertheless, as I did not know
what else to do, I concluded to wait,
and calling for a cracker and a mug
of ale, I made myself apparently at
home, paying no attention to the
scrutinizing glances with which I was
conscious the other inmates of the
room were regarding me.
"I had no means of ascertaining the
exact time, but I am satisfied it was
after eleven o'clock when I rose,
ana, saying mat 1 couia wan no ioi?ber,
paid my score and prepared to depart.
The landlord urged me to
stay, insisting that Jenkins would certainly*
be back in half an hour. I
cared nothing for the half hour,
and would have waited cheerfully,
if I had not been sure he was
deceiving me. In such cases it Is
always the safest plan to do directly
the reverse of what the deceiver wishes.
He wanted me to stay for some
purpose of his own, and for that
reason 1 determined to stay. I
had an undefined apprehension that
mischief was afoot, and returned rapidly
to my lodging. On approaching
the house through the back alley, I
observed that my window was up.
It had no shutter, and was fastened
by a large nail driven above It. I remembered
to have seen the nail in
its place that day at dinner time.
Against the shed-room I have described
there was a pile of lumber
reaching nearly to the roof. Upon
that roof my window opened, and by
climbing on the lumber it could be
easily reached. Thinking that there
might be thieves within, I climbed
up to the window and listened. Everything
was still. At length I heard
what I thought was a faint groan in
the other room. I entered, and striking
a light went Into the bedroom of
Franz. He was lying on the floor,
in his night clothes, dead. The
groan I had heard no doubt was his
last gasp. A large stream of blood
ran from the body, and was trickling
slowly down the stairway. I knelt
down by his side to feel nis puise,
when I discovered that, besides a deep
wound in his side, his skull was broken.
To be certain that the murderers
were not still concealed in the
house, I went to search the lower
rooms. I found them in their usual
state, except that the money-drawer
was broken open and its contents abstracted.
I returned to the room
where the dead man was lying, and
looked around for some trace of the
murderer. At this time I heard a
knocking at the front door, and, In
the agitation of the moment, let the
candle fall. I have seen blood shed
in many ways. I have slept among
the dead upon the battle-field as
soundly as a king in his palace, and
I would not have believed that these
strong nerves could be so shaken by
the sight of one pale corpse and one
purple stream. It was over In a moment,
and I snatched up the candle
to relight it. It was too late. The
door was broken open and two men
with lanterns rushed In. At the same
time two more appeared at the open
window. To their eager questions of
who did the deed, I could only answer
I did not know. My statement went
for nothing and I was hurried off to
prison as the murderer. If I had
been, colonel, those four men would
never have dragged me ten steps from
the door of that house. I could have
crushed every bone in all of them;
and If I had been guilty, I would have
done so. But I knew I was Innocent,
and did not choose to make evidence
against myself by resistance.
"The next day, when I was allowed
to tell my story, I was afraid of implicating
Jenkins, and said nothing about
the cause which took me out, merely
relating what occurred after I discovered
the window open. I understand
that Roberts swore, before the coroner,
that he called upon me that
night to claim the payment of a sum
of money I owed him, and that I put
It off, promising' to pay on the morrow.
He swore that he met me that night
armed with a heavy olub, and having
my coat collar turned up so as ta
hide my face; that he spoke to me. and
I did not answer; that his suspicions
were excited, and he followed me cautiously;
that he saw me enter the
back yard and climb In at the window;
that he first supposed I had been
out for some purpose which I desired
to hide from Franz, and had therefore
adopted this mode of entrance; that
he was about going away when he
heard a blow and a heavy fall; that
he then became alarmed and ran off
for a watchman, who called two others
to his assistance, and they proceeded
together to the house; that on observing
the light, they divided, Roberts
and another going Into the back yard
to prevent escape; that I extinguished
the light at the first sound of knocking
on the front door; that on entering
the house, they found Just such a
club as he had seen me carrying,
lying by the dead man's side all
covered with blood; that my knife,
bloody from point to hilt, was discovered
on the mantle-piece In my
room; that my clothes and hands
were bloody, and (that there were
marks of bloody fingers on the money
drawer. Upon searching my person
they found the key of the shedroom
In my pocket, and In my chest
a quantity of small change, such as
Franz would be likely to receive from
? J J 1 ~ 0 4ki? nroo
his customers a goou uetu ui ui? naa
true and was corroborated by others.
All that was true I could easily explain,
but I had no proof to sustain
my statement. The money was mine.
It had been paid to me for boat fare,
and was therefore mostly In small
change. The club I had dropped In
the pool of blood when I knelt down
by the body to ascertain If life was
extinct. My hands and clothes were
bloodied at the same time. In examining
the drawer to see what had been
taken out, I had no doubt left the
prints of my fingers upon It. The
knife was a large hunting-knife I
had worn during the war, and had
i i?t"? nnnn the mantle
uccn i>ui6 i??v.v
piece for months."
TO BE OONTINUED.
CLOSE STUDY OF TILLMAN.
Rev. John A. Bruneon'a First View of
the Senator.
[From the News and Courier.]
To the Editor of the News and Courier:
When Senator Tiliman came to
Elloree and spoke, July 14, I saw and
heard him for the first time. It was
an opportunity I had long desired. My
estimate of him hitherto had been
based upon fragmentary and unsatisfactory
reports of his political work,
and I was anxious to see him face to
face, watch him in action, and hear
from him a viva voce deliverance that
that I might be aided in reaching a
more just conception of his character.
The conclusions I have reached are
embodied in the following criticism.
They may be right. They may be
wrong. They are only the opinions of
one observer.
Mr. Tillman possesses but little depth
and originality of thought, and small
genius for far-seeing constructive
statesmanship. He has a wealth of
common sense. He is strong, alert, active.
He is bold, blunt and boastful.
nf discernment
riC liao iai v ? -
and is quick to catch the current of
popular opinion, and ride upon it to
the goal of his ambition. He is in sympathetic
touch with the masses of the
common people, and embodies their
thought and ideals, in vigorous, popular
language which is sure to evoke
applause and to command a large and
enthusiastic following. He leads the
people not by instructing and enlightening
them, thereby enlarging and
elevating their notions of the sacredly
responsible duties of citizenship, but
rather by pandering to their tastes.
Emerson's criticism of Napoleon is
applicable to him. Says Emerson:
"If Napoleon is France, if Napoleon Is
Europe, it Is because the people whom
he sways are little Napoleons." So
if Mr. Tillman is the Democracy of
South Carolina it is because the Democrats
whom he sways are little Till mans.
Their likes and dislikes, their
prejudices and passions, their desires
hopes and aims, ail find expression in
Mr. Tillman's words and conduct. He
is their mouthpiece, their oracle. H>e
is the Incarnation of the common people
of the state. He was moulded of
common clay and differs from the
common man in quantity rather than
quality. He feels more intensely, sees
farther and says more than the common
man. but what he feels, sees and
says Is all of a piece with that which
the common man feels, sees and says.
Or quoting Emerson again: "He Is the
Idol of the common men, because he
has in transcendent degree the qualities
and powers of common men."
Therefore, he Is a leader, but not a
teacher.
Mr. Tillman's success in the field of
politics lias been remarkable, but it Is
not tiie success which is achieved by
unswerving devotion to high and holy
ideals. It lies almost entirely in the
low plane of materialism, rather than
In the higher sphere of mind and morals.
A generation of his leadership
would accomplish among the common
people little more than the strengthening
of their desire for party domination.
I have yet to see anything from
him that Is suited to inculcate a genuine
love of the light for right's own
sake or to awaken a desire for noble
living. It Is true that he boasts of a
rugged honesty, and poses as the chief
apostle of fair play. But after all his
claim of fair play Is based more upon
the fearlessness and rancor with which
he assails the public career of his contemporaries
and exposes their misdoings.
than in the consistent exhibition
of the virtue that he so lustily extols.
He is bellicose and is at his best when
the tight Is hottest. Such men usually
are not over-scrupulous in the choice
of the weapons they employ to defeat
an antagonist. Mr. Tillman is no exception
to the rule. He is a hard fighter,
and his words are often rough
clubs which bring bruises and blood,
but they do not always measure up to
his own self-erected standard of fair
play and accuracy.
In short, Mr. Tillman's strength lies
in his sympathy with the masses. He
has made common cause with the people.
and has agreed to Tight their battles
for them and to give them what
they demand rather than what they
need, and when he dies Tillmanism
will be dead. John A. Brunson,
Baptist Parsonage, Elloree, S. C.
July 23. 1906.
iRiscfllaitcous Sending.
CIVITA8 FIND8 A TICKET.
Appreciative Citizen Will Vote For
Tillman, Bleaee and Ragtdale.
Editor Yorkvllle Enquirer.
I don't care, Mr. Editor, who knows
how I am going to vote?so here goes!
I am for Tillman, of course. He is a i
statesman. A statesman?well, a
statesman in a statesman; and old
Ben is one all right. Calhoun was all i
well enough In his way. He had "Roman
virtue" and all that sort of thing.
He could talk about "my dear and
honest state," and make your hair
stand on end appealing to posterity;
but he was literally "not In It" by the
side of old Ben. Sir, what a figure
he cuts In the United States senate,
rampaging up and down, daring to
call even President Roosevelt a liar,
and tossing the august, white-haired
senators to right, to left, with his
deadly pitchfork. Behold him weep
over Mrs. Morris, and "cuss out" the
trusts In a "blue streak" the next minute.
What versatility! What courage|
what chivalry!
I am sick and tired of heating the
old antls say, "Well, what did It
amount to? What political doctrines
has he expounded? What statecraft
has he Illustrated? What has he accomplished?"
and shake that old rate
bill In our faces and ask. "how did he
better that?" Sir, "one blast upon his
bugle horn Is worth a thousand men! j
one wild wave of his pitchfork Is more
than all the political doctrines ever 1
expounded by Calhoun, Haynes, McDuflle,
and the whole school of them." "
To see him rear and "cuss" Is a "liberal
education."
But to come home to South Carolina.
Here he Is the veritable "father (
of his country." What sage advice he 3
is giving us. What a shining example 5
of purity and prowess he Is setting 1
our young men. How he Is battling 1
for that greatest boon to our state, the
dispensary. How he Is making the
"frilled patricians" tremble In their
boot*; bearding those doughty Hons, *
the great dallies, in their dens; calling
this man a liar, that man a hypoorite,
not afraid to fling his charges 1
right and left, not caring whom they 1
hit. knowing the hit dog will howl. '
O sir, Mr.- Editor, the way that man
Is battling for the right of the "wool- 1
hat boys" is something grand, glorious, '
awful, sublime. Sir, he's a prophet; a '
prophet I tell you; he knows a thousand
times better than those slick- 1
(tongued preachers what Is good for
the people. A dispensary Is as good
as a church any day; and I believe (
with old Ben the dispensary Is the
cure for ?11 our moral as well as political
Ills.
So I am for old Ben, the knight of
the pitchfork and the bottle, the "great
statesman." "the ablest man from the
south." "the noblest representative our
grand old state hs.s ever had In the
[national councils!" ? .
I am for Blease for governor. Say
what you please, he's the man. He's
out and out for the dispensary, and al|
ways has been. He Is the only one
who really loves this "nursing mother"
of us all. The rest would trim,
and reform and purify her, but Blease
says, "Woodman spare that tree, touch
I not a single bough; In youth It sheltered
me. and I'll defend It now!"
Mr. Editor, I hear that the politl- "
clans are trying to trade Blease off for
Manning; It Is even whispered that 1
old Ben himself prefers the man from '
Sumter: but of course, that Is an Infamous
lie. No, sir, old Ben and the '
true blues know Blease too well for '
that; how he got a grip on old Ben's
coattall sixteen years ago, and he nev- 1
er turns loose, however the thunder
rolls. You can't "shake him" or "lose |
him." Now I call that consistency; I |
call that statesmanship. I know of no
higher qualifications for the chair of ;
Rutledge, Hayne and McDuffle!
I am for Ragsdale for attorney gen- |
eral. I admire the "old Roman," of ,
course, but I don't really believe he's
running now?Is he? peace to his (po- !
litlcal) ashes! But Ragsdale's the man.
Old Ben branded him at Columbia? |
"my friend Ragsdale"?and that's i
enough for me. I admire Ragdale's |
pluck, having said "double pay." he
sticks to it to the last pea In the dish, (
regardless of lawyers and courts and |
legislatures. He doesn't confound |
friend anil foe, and gin "cough drops"
to a man who Is telling the family se- <
crets of the dlspemary. Lyon knows |
too much, and hasn't the common de- |
cency to hold his tongue over the prl- i
vate affairs of our dear old mother. |
Ragsdale knew It all, long before Lyon,
but discreetly held his peace. What i
was a little graft here or there, thousand
dollar bills and beaver hats full ;
of the people's money, what was all
that to the good name of the dlspensa- ,
ry? It should never have been breathed;
and Ragsdale never, breathed It. |
I trust him to cover up things?as they j
ought to be covered?and so he's my
man. j
As to the rest, well they are all good |
fellows, and we can hardly make a
mistake if we try the toss of a coin on (
them. I'll nose around a bit more, ,
however, and try to find out old Ben's
choice; and that choice will be mine.
Old Ben knows, and dictates Just to
suit me, and an "Independent Is worse ,
than a Radical."
Your friend,
Civins.
Rural Retreat, S. C., Aug. 1, 1906.
COTTON SEED FOR FOOD.
Mixed With Flour the Seed Now Enters
Into Bread and Cakes.
"The recent meeting of the Cotton
seed Crushers' association at Atlanta.
f?a.," says the New York Herald,
brought out some Interesting facts
In regard to the uses of cottonseed,
both for domestic and export purposes.
Governor Terrell, who was
In early life a cotton grower,' said
that he remembered well when cotfnnsppH
was burned to Ket rid of it,
but last year there were 4,500,000
tons of cottonseed bought from southern
planters and the sum of J75.000,000
was paid to them, thus adding
practically 25 per cent to the value
of the cotton crop. This has been
brought about principally through
the cottonseed oil Industry.
"There are probabilities of still
further developments In the use of
cottonseed which will increase the
value of that product. Professor J.
H. Connell, of Texas, In speaking of
cottonseed meal as human food,
made a striking presentation of Its
value for such use. He gave a good
lesson in the shape of biscuits and
cakes made from a combination of
cottonseed meal and wheat flour.
They were pronounced as delicate and
tasty as any produced of the flour
barrel by members of the convention
who were given an opportunity to
partake of the food. Another use of
the seed Is that for fertilizer in the
shape of meal.
"The use of the raw seed to enrich
the land was pronounced a waste, as
the meal can be used to much better
financial advantage. Professor Connell
said that within a short time he
believed cottonseed crushers of the
south would be able to announce an
nptnnl illsrnvprv of 4 F?0ft 000 tons of
a new product fit for human consumption.
He stated that he had
used cottonseed oil as a cooking fat
In his home for six months, and that
It was equal In all respects for cooking
purposes to the best lard.
"By an Invention of comparatively
recent times cottonseed oil is freed
rrom the old Impurities which gave
It a rank odor. So-called olive oil
which reaches America from southern
Europe carries a large percentage of
cottonseed oil. Cottonseed meal is
used In making corn and flour muffins,
biscuits, pancakes, gingerbread,
dark graham bread, together with
cakes of all kinds and for various
ither similar uses.
"The United States department of
igriculture says that cottonseed oil
s worth for food purposes for anl
nials about double the value of tlmo:hy
hay, and cottonseed meal for the
tame purpose Is worth three and onehird
times as' much as corn meal.
\bout $30,000,000 worth of cottonwed
oil is exported, and that Is only
>ne-thlrd of the product. Fifteen
rears ago 500,000 barrels of cottonwed
oil were made, which number
A-as increased to more than 3.000,000
jarrels for the last season."
RUSSELL SAGE'S MAXIM8.
Some of the Principles Which 8haped
the Life of the Great Financier.
Any maft oan earn a dollar, but It
akes a wise tnan to use It. This has
wen my motto from the very start of
ny business career.
I saved the first dollar I ever earned,
ind from that hour I have never been
n debt to a human being for a cent
hat was not ready when due.
Society (:? to blame for many wasted
Ives.
To excite envy Is to make enemies.
Those who live for pleasure alone
lo no good to themselves or to others.
There Is do such thing as the money
?urse; a good man cannot have too
nucn muney,
Fifty cents is enough for a straw
lat; it will last two seasons.
If I had my life to live over again I
vould try just as hard to turn my
noneyrrrer and over and over again,
:hat It might do the most good to oth?r
men.
I get plenty of relaxation from an
jxclting rubber of whist, played at
light In my own home after dinner.
SVhen the game is over my day is
lone.
It Is a surprising fact that many
Tien endure unwarranted expenditures
for no other reason than to excite the
;nvy of their neighbors. How wicked
s this!
A boy who knows bargains In socks
* 111 become a man who knows bar
;ains In stocks.
When you have made your fortune
t is time enough to think about spendng
it.
The tender care of a good wife is the
finest thing in the world.
The longer a man lives the more
mistakes he may be counted on to
make.
Clubs are only a place for idle men
ind wasteful young men.
An active man builds success upon
the foundation of failures; a passive
man does not.
Real charity is disbursed without
alare of trumpets.
I think the vacation habit Is the outgrowth
of abnormal or distorted business
methods. I fall to see anything
egtlimate in it.
The physician may recommend a
hangs of air for a man when he is
III; but why be III? Illness is but an
Irreparable loss of time.
Securities have been made in great
luantltles and sold at high prices on
the idea that economies to be effected
by centralization of control will give
them the arbitrary values which have
been placed upon them. This theory
will be exploded sooner or later, for
there will always be competition.
When the crash comes It will be a national
disaster.
I fear the centralization of big industries
in the hands of five c>r six
men will prove a big mistake. When
half a dozen men control the business
and financial policy of a great Industry
a single error of judgment will plunge
a whole nation Into financial loss and
ruin.
I do not Hay that trusts are not a
good thing; but I do say we should go
slow.
A wealthy man does not work for
himself alone.
My one desire has been to be let
alone in order that I might do what
I desired in my own way. In that I
have not succeeded.
Some people may not believe it, but
it is a fact that It has been my keenest
pleasure to see people succeed who
have acted upon my advice.
The Universal Language of
Gesture.?"We need no universal language?no
Esperanto or Volapuk Llngabeauta?for
a universal language has
existed since man's birth; the language
of the gesture."
The speaker, an ethnologist, sharpened
his left forefinger with his right
forefinger as one sharpens a pencil.
"That gesture means 'Shame! Hiss
for shame!'" he said. "It means that
the world over. Use it on a savage
woman In New Guinea, or on the King
of England, and both alike will understand
you."
He shook his fiRt.
"That Is a threat," he said. "The
world over it Is a threat."
Holding his forefinger a little to the
right of his face, he shook it,
"A warning," he said. "Wherever
man exists, there the shaken forefinger
means a warning."?Minneapolis Journal.
t-r a Pessimist is a man with liver
spots on his disposition.
80UTHERN COTTON A380CIATI0N
Interesting Claims as to What It Haa
Accomplished.
Following Is a part of a very Interesting
statement just Issued from the
headquarters of the Southern Cotton
association In Atlanta:
"The value of the Southern Cotton
association to the cotton planters of
the south Is apparent from the follow- ^
Ing statement:
"In the two years ending September
1st, 1906, two crops of cotton, aggre
gating practically 25,000,000 bales, will
have been marketed at an average
price to southern producers of nearly
10} cents per pound.
"In the two years ending September
1st, 1898, 22,500,000 bales of cotton
were produced and marketed at an
average price of 6 1-8 cents.
"This Increase In price Is an aggregate
about $550,000, and Is very largely
the work of the Southern Cotton asso-?
elation. In comparison with such an
achievement the cost of maintaining
its organization is but infinitesimal,
and it enters upon the coming cotton
season with the greatest confidence in
the ultimate realization of Its purpose,
namely: fair prices for the product of
southern labor; the avoidance of overproduction
of cotton; and the protection
of the south in its God-given privilege
of furnishing the world with the
cheapest clothing ever known at
prices which will repay the southern
farmers for their arduous toll and the
trained Intelligence employed in producing
It.
"The Southern Cotton association
has made its mistakes and has its
enemies to fight. The mistakes have
not, however, been important, as
shown by the result, and its enemies
have for the most part admitted its
rtAtiror anH ho vo hoon fnrnoH nltlmato.
ly to align themselves with its purposes.
"The 1st of September, 1906, will
And the world absolutely bare of cotton.
The visible supply will be the
smallest on record. The 26,000,000
bales of cotton with which the south
has supplied civilization during the
past two years are all consumed. The
United States department of agriculture
estimates that It will require 42,000,000
bales of cotton to adequately
clothe the world's population, and the
progress of civilization Is rapidly advancing
the world's population to a
point at which It will require to be
adequately clothed.
"Whatever the size of the coming
cotton crop, there is no reason why It
should be sold at anything less than
the average price obtained for the last
crop, through the efforts of the Southern
Cotton association, namely: 11]
cents and 12 cents a pound. Interested
and self-constituted authorities
have 'of late been endeavoring to
stampede southern holders and producers
of cotton into the belief that the
coming crop was likely to be an abnormally
large one, produced from an average
very much In excess of any previously
planted. This disposition seems
to have penetrated even into the crop
estimating board of the United States
government, who apparently have not
as yet fully emancipated themselves
from the maladroit Influences which
resulted In the scandal which the efforts
of the Southern Cotton association
last year disclosed.
"That the cotton crop for the season
Of 1906-7 is UKeiy 10 De superaounuuni, <
or even a large one, the Southern Cot- .
ton association does not believe. Its
reports from Its thousands of members
and correspondents throughout
the entire cotton belt Indicate that the
increase In acreage over last year Is
onlv 2.52 per cent, and the scarcity
of labor; the lateness of development;
the excessive rains In many sections
and drought in the region west of the
Mississippi valley foreshadow anything
but a full yield for the season
commencing September 1st next.
"The published opinion of 150 members
of the New York, Liverpool and
Southern Cotton Exchanges Is that a
crop of about 11,000,000 bales will be
worth during the coming season 13.37
cents per pound, and those producers
who part with their product for less
than this figure are needlessly curtailIn?
the hard-earned profits of their
toll and depreciating the value of their
fellow-producers' crop."
In furtherance of the work of the
association every cotton producer in
the south Is requested to prepare for
the next general meeting to be held at
Hot Springs. Ark., on September 5,
1906, a statement giving his name,
business and postofflce address, along
with the number of acres cultivated
and bales produced during the year
endine Seotember 1, 1906, together
with the number of acres now in and
the number of acres that will probably
be produced for the year ending Sept.
1. 1907.
THE ART OF ADVERTISING.
Character in Circulation?The Value
of Reaching the Homes of Buyers.
It costs more money to run a modern
up-to-date daily newspaper, such
as the Reporter, than advertisers and
readers realize. No publisher can
continue to furnish his advertisers
with a medium that can produce results
unless he insists upon being paid
a fair price for his work. It has always
been the policy of the Reporter
to Insist that the people who read
the paper pay for It. Therefore, there
are no deadheads on the Reporter circulation
books. Its readers are good
customers?they pay for the paper In
which they see the merchant's announcement
and they pay the merchant
for what they buy of him. The
merchant who advertises in the Re
porter sends his announcement Into
the homes of the substantial people
of the city?the people who buy and
pav for what they get.?Fond du Lac
(Wis.) Reporter.
Perhaps there Is no more difficult
problem In the world of business than
to arrive at a fair judgment of the advertising
value of space In a newspaper.
In the nature of things this value
cannot be measured as are yards
of cloth or bushels of wheat or
pounds of coal. It Is as Intangible as
Is the something that lifts a great picture
above the level of a mere painting.
The canvas of each may be alike, the
colors from the same tubes laid on by
the same business, yet the result may
have a market value of $100,000 a
square foot as a Meissonler or $5 a
square yard as hack work.
Circulation Is often the only claim
to an advertiser's attention that a
newspaper presents. But circulation I
alone is far from being the all In all. :
There must be circulation or there can I
be no advertising: value. The more 1
circulation there Is the better for the I
advertiser?If the right people are i
reached by It in the right way. And I
there the problem appears. Who reads
the newspaper Is vastly more Import- i
ant to the advertiser In Its columns i
than how many read It.
Our Fond du Lac contemporary's (
policy Is very much like that of the i
Herald. It hits several nails fairly on
the head. Deadhead circulation Is well <
nigh valueless to any advertiser. So is
slum circulation?except for the cheapest
of bargain offerings. So is circulation
that reaches the shiftless, dissatisfied,
complaining classes, always
out of harmony with the established
order of things?the classes that envy
success and rail at any opinions but
their own. A newspaper that panders
to these classes can get them as a following,
but whether they count by
thousands or by hundreds of thousands,
their value to an advertiser of
substantial goods Is very small.?New
York Herald.
DUEL8 IN SOUTH CAROLINA.
i ne Last tncounters at famous aana
Bar Ferry..
For many years before the war,
ind for a few years succeeding this
:ode duello was one of the strongest
tnd most destructive features of
muthern life?of South Carolina life
particularly. By this code a man who
considered himself insulted or aggrieved
by another might challenge
:he latter to mortal combat on the
leld of honor. The field of honor It
emphatically was.
Not with the light rapiers or popruns,
as It were, as In France and Gernany,
but with the direct, direful,
leadly pistol, army or navy repeater,
he combatants standing so many
paces apart, as might be arranged by
heir seconds, and using, according to
he code, Just such pistols, or in rare
eases other weapons, as might be
chosen by the challenged man. The
teconds decided the positions and the
tivlng of the word by tossing up.
Sach combatant took with him to
he field a second, a surgeon, one, two,
perhaps three, friends as witnesses,
ind generally one or more male ser
rants. The seconds with excessive
:lvlllty, punctilious courtesy and
(nightly grace loaded the pistols,
placed them in the hands of the com>atants
and enforced rigid compliance
vith all rules of the code duello.
During the first sixty years of the
ast century, when duelling was so in
'orce in South Carolina, says the
Charleston News and Courier, there
vas a rigid law, in words, against it
-rigid in words, but absolutely a dead
etter as regards inforcement Pubic
opinion upheld duelling enthustastcally
and frowned down the law. The
>enaltles under this law were very serere,
but never enforced. The penalles
under the present law are also
rery severe. Their severity and
>rompt enforcement, coupled with the
rradual crystallization of public opln>
on against the custom, have caused
luelling to become almost extinct
'Jot absolutely extinct, however. In
he Bouth we still now and then bear
if a duel In which the combatants are
ruided and governed by the rigid rules
if the old code duello.
It is now almost forty years since
i duel has taken place at Sand Bar
?erry. The last three duels that came
iff there, If we remember aright, ociurred
In one and the self-same year
?1870. One of these was between a
rery prominent and popular young
nan of Augusta, named Tilly?and
>n account of his chivalry, generosity
knd elegant personal habits he was
:alled by his friends "Count Tilly"?
ind another equally prominent and
xipular, named Radcliffe. The
rouble was about a woman, and sad
:o say, not a good woman. Count
Pilly was killed outright.
Cornelius Redd, a man well known
n Augusta during the war period and
laid to be a desperate fellow, became
engaged in a dispute with another
lennerate nartv bv the name of Cope
and, of Washington, D. C. The
rouble was about a gaming debt, and
:he two decided to fight It out accordng
to the code.
They selected seconds and a surjeon,
and with some fifty Interested
ipectators repaired to Sand Bar Ferry
luelling grounds at four o'clock one
ifternoon. The weapons for the set:lement
of the difficulty were navy re^aters.
A prominent Augusta man acted
is Redd's second, while Mayor Hope
if Richmond, Va., did likewise for
ropeland.
They lined up and opened fire.
Pour shots were exchanged and
Dopeland fell at the last shot He
lived only a very few minutes after the
shooting. Redd was not touched by
the bullets, and a few years afterward
lie was shot ana Kiuea oy a puuLeiwui
while resisting arrest. He was a
imall man but terrible game.
This duel was one of the most
coolly, pitilessly, bloodily systematic
ever arranged to take place at Sand
Bar Ferry.
The third duel was a ludicrous
pne, gotten up very cunningly by some
Tun loving gentlemen of Augusta
and Hamburg; and yet It seems to
have been a real duel. It was between
two negro men? Mose Sullivan and
Peter Blair. There had been some
difficulty between Mose and Pete
about a case in court, and, being deftly
influenced, they decided that only
a duel could clear up matters.
They went to the ferry, and Pete
proved the unlucky one. He received
the bullet from Mose's revolver in his
knee and you remember that when
you get it in the knee your face
Is apt to be square to the front.
Pete was good grit. Mose was 'most
too gritty. Pete recovered from the
wound. Mose Sullivan?we weep as
we recall It?was afterwards kflled
In Hamburg In a brawl. We knew Mose
well and loved him well. He was a
person of lofty instincts. We often
met Mose after the duel, and before
Ills unbecoming death, and used to
Wnri' "hnn dav. Mose. we shall
write a history of San Bar Ferry, and
then we shall hand you down to honor
ind fame." And Mose would reply:
'I know It, Marse Jeems, and I know
fou will do me Jestlce."
Iodine, Cure For Snake Bite.
For a sure cure for a snake bite,
take about seven drops of Iodine,
scarify and bathe the wound also with
Iodine. This remedy was first used
by a medical officer In British service
In India. It has cured both man and
a number of animals; It never falls, It
Is really wonderful In Its effects.
One instance I will relate. A young
man working for me In the harvest
Held was bitten by a very large rattlesnake
on one of his large toes. I
gave him about seven drops of tincture
of iodine on a little sugar and
to make doubly sure repeated the
dose an hour later. His foot swelled,
but next morning he was all right. I
have had animals whose bodies have
swelled considerably, but all have recovered
from the bite.?Topeka Capital.
/? a
or Only a fool' would expect to get
any fun out of a funnel.