Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, April 24, 1908, Image 1
m
p
* ;
l. m. grist's sons, Publishers. } % Ifamilg Uetcspaper: <Jfor the promotion of the political, ?ociat. 3tgriouItunal and (Eommeerial Interests of the people. {TES^cIlpVKitE cmtoVANCK
? ESTABLISHED 1855. ' YORKVILLE, 8. C., FRIDAY, APRIL 34, 1908. NO. 33.
I 111 111 111 >lt>UIIUiLilLilL?UaiL>l
!
*
\
i By CLARENCE
J
* wiwifwffiwiwirwfwww wynwif
CHAPTER XXI.
The Woman Who Came and the Man
Who Sent For her,
It was not late in the afternoon
when the train stopped at Blankford
but the storm made it seem as though
night was coming on at once. It was
dark, very dark.
A brakeman opened the door a second
time, after his rude and incoherent
announcement had been obeyed by
those who knew, in some other way
than by his assistance, the name ol
the place, and all passengers who were
to stop at Blankford had left the train.
This time he spoke so as to be understood.
(Does practice make per*
feet?)
"The train will go no further." he
said: "the track beyond is full of
drifted snow. Passengers can remain
in the car or go to the hotel."
There was much grumbling among
t lie passengers. The brakeman gave
it but little attention. It wasn't his
\ fault that the train couldn't go on. Ke
was used to traveling with grumblers:
ne was too much of a fatalist himself
to complain; so he let the others
growl, unhindered and unanswered.
^ But Lurline Bannottle sprang to her
feet with so genuine a fear and grief
in her face that she had his attention
at once: on reflection, however, I am
not sure that it was not the beauty in
her face which gained his attention,
instead of the fear and grief.
1 i V* n fraln
"MUl, sir, nun 1"I1S ucmic lire uu.i,
will go on?"
Little wonder she was anxious. Her
^ destination was only a few miles away
?a ride of two hours or so on a train
running according to the time card.
Wut this was Saturday, March 4th,
1S71, and every mlnfite's delay was
w shortening the afternoon by so much.
"Not before some time tomorrow:
perhaps not so soon as that," replied
the brakeman.
"Do you know anything of the condition
of the roads in this vicinity? Can
teams pass over them?"
"I don't know. I think it's doubtful."
* "Thank you." she said, sweetly.
She drew her wraps more closely
about her. She gathered up her luggage.
She left the car.
She went at once to a livery stable.
She asked for the proprietor himself.
He came immediately, which leads me
to suspect that the man to whom she
had first spoken said some strong
words regarding the remarkably
handsome woman who wished to see
him.
"I want to hire a team." she said to
him.
"To go far? It's going to be a terrible
night: the snow is falling fast: the
roads are drifting badly: and there
isn't a road in the vicinity that isn't
drifted full and almost impassable already."
^ She gave him the name of a town.
Take Blankford for the right angle of
a right-angled isosceles triangle. She
gave him the name of a place at one
of tne acute angles; tne city m which
she meant to go was situated almost
exactly at the other acute angle. It
was not any of this man's business
where she was groins, and she didn't
intend he should know. But Burline
^ Bannottie was not mean in little
things; she was quite willing to pay
for a team to go as many miles as she
wished to go; and. besides, she wanted
to know the opinion of a liveryman
as to the possibility of driving so far
that night.
The man shook his head.
"I don't think any driver would be
willing to undeitake such a trip tonight:
wait here until morning, and?"
"I don't want a driver, and I cannot
wait until morning." she said, decidedly.
The man looked at her with undisguised
admiration,
to "You don't want a driver? Surely
you do not intend to drive yourself
such a night as this? Surely you do
not intend to go alone?"
"I do."
The man shook his head again.
"You couldn't do it. I couldn't let
a team on such a night and for such a
trip as this with only a woman."
"No? You think we women are not
quite your equals, do you?"
"Well, in some respects."
m f,,r
All: ?Yru. iinir .?<?u (in.t I ..... ....
sale?"
The man laughed.
"I never refuse a good price for anything
I own," lie said, promptly. "Dc
^ you think you'd like to buy?"
"Perhaps so. I must buy if I cannot
hire."
"All right. I think I'd rather you'd
drive your own team tonight than
^ mine."
"Well, what are your prices?team,
harness, sleigh, robes and?and whip?"
"1 can let you have a fair team and
a good sleigh for five hundred dollars,
and from that up."
"How much for the best? How much
for the horses with the greatest speed,
and the greatest power of endurance,
and?and everything else - to match?"
^ The man looked at her mockingly
& Perhaps he was scarcely to blame. H?
^ might have thought she was mocking
him.
He pondered her question a minute
or two. A man takes pride in owner
ship. He was putting a price upon his
best team and harness and sleigh; not
a price at which to sell them, oh, no:
but a price at which to offer them?a
price to boast over the next day.
. "Two thousand dollars." he replied.
"Very well. I will take it: order the
team made ready at once."
She opened and threw back hei
cloak. She unbuckled a very plain
" and innocent-looking belt from about
her waist. She unbuttoned an opening
on the inner side of it, near one end
She raised the belt above the table in
* the office, taking it by the other end
4, and a shower of twenty-dollar gold
pieces fell upon the table. She counted
out one hundred of them. She put th*
rest back?there were not many ol
yitiMiMiMMiiiiHiiiiiikHyiiimh
; '
; BOUTELLE.
wwmmmmmmrmmm HI www
them left?and buckled on the bell
again.
1 Five minutes later it was announced
that the team was ready. Miss Bani
nottie walked briskly from the offlct
. to the sleigh.
i "It's not fitting for a lady to go or
i such a trip without some one with
her." said the proprietor of the stable,
firmly and persuasively. "I haven't a
driver who would be willing to go, 1
suppose, but I will go with you myself
if you wish."
T'rl r?o thor hp fllfinP."
1 IlilllJS. JUU, l u IUI.1IV. ?V ?
i replied Miss Bannottie, as she stepped
into the sleigh.
The man came nearer, in a slow and
hesitating manner, jingling some ol
the gold she had given him. He was
nervous, that was evident.
He lowered his voice.
"I?I didn't think you meant to buy,
and 1 put too high a priee upon the
team. They are not wortli more than
fifteen hundred dollars, and so "
He held out a handful of gold toward
her.
"No," she said, positively; "keep it.
A gentleman always says what he
means, and never takes advantage of
a woman."
She touched the horses lightly with
the whip. They dashed away like the
wind.
There is a difference in roads; difficulties
are not always measured by
miles. If Miss Bannottie had really
been going to the place she had mentioned.
she would have found the way
much more difficult than it was in the
direction she actually went: indeed,
it may reasonably be doubted whether
she would have reached there in time?
by midnight, you remember?if at all.
But in the direction in which she
went, the roads, though bad enough,
were better. If she had told the liveryman
the truth, lie could have reassured
her on that subject.
She drove rapidly through and away
- 1 _1 JJa-aJ n in.
rmm tiianmoru. out* Miuuunm ? m.tle
as she thought of another journey
she had taken from Blankford once.
"I?I " she began to herself: "but
no matter," she said, sullenly, after a
moment's musing. "I got over being
foolishly sentimental long ago."
She drove away through the night.
The storm lessened, the stars came out.
the night grew colder, the snow drifted
to and fro across the road.
She kept a close watch of the time.
She allowed her horses a chance to
rest a little, when she dared, or when
the road was such that she had to.
But for the most part she urged them
to as great a speed as was possible.
It lacked just ten minute of twelve
as she came in sight of the bridge to
which she had been directed to come,
the bridge near the City of Boomville.
"I suppose he knows the roads are
blocked and the trains all late. But he
wouldn't make any allowance for that;
once arouse his cowardly malice, and
he would make allowance for nothing'."
She drove faster now. She looked
anxiously toward the bridge. The road
stretched in unbroken whiteness as far
as she could see. The bridge was
white with ridges of snow on every
beam and timber. Even the trees
along the road were scarcely more than
mounds of snow, so thickly were they
covered. But nowhere was there any
sign of life: nowhere was there mo
tlon: no black spot?as black as a
man?marred the purity of the scene.
She drove on. She reached the
bridge. She drove to the centre of it.
She stopped.
She drew a long breath of the cold,
fresh air. She seemed suddenly exultant,
as though she had freedom
again. The end of her journey reached.
she was light-hearted and careless
or seemed to be.
She looked at her watch. It was
less than a minute to twleve o'clock.
She waited, listened: waited un'il the
bells in Boomville rang out the hour of
midnight through the air. Then she
touched her horses with the whip
i again, and drove on toward town.
"I came from Italy," she said, bitterly.
"and I am in season. He had to
come from the town I shall see from
the hill yonder?the town where those
bells are ringing?and he is late. That
marks the difference between us; it
marks the difference between success
and failure: let him beware."
She turned an abrupt bend in the
road. A man was coming slowly from
toward the city. His head was bent
forward upon his breast. If he heard
the sleigh-bells at all they made nr
i impression upon him. He was absorbed
in thought. He was indulging in
he dangerous practice of thinking out
loud.
i "I vva rnp/l her" he said "and she
i cannot blame me now. Since she faile<l
to come "
"But I (lid not fail. Mr. Lyman," she
said, quietly, as she halted her team
I just opposite him. "I did not fail. 1
am here. And I was in season."
"Well, you beautiful fiend, how did
i you come?"
"By team from Blankford. by rail
from "
"Don't mock me: I didn't mean that
1 didn't half expect you."
. "You didn't? You should have
, known better."
"I doubt it. They say the anoienl
. ench'inters used to call up the devi!
, sometimes, and that he usually came
; And so "
I.inline Bannottie interrupted him
with a merv laugh.
l "And so you think you should hav?
known your incantations would raisf
me? Is that it? I think you should
But, Mr. Lyman, we are letting time
run t<? waste, diet in the sleigh and
let us talk as we ride."
i "Thank you." said Lyman, as he took
: a place by her side.
; lie slipped his arm around her waist
, He bent his face toward hers,
i "You don't know how exceedingly*
, well you are looking," he said, and thert
1 was genuine admiration in his tone
I "I must have one kiss, my peerless
> Lurline."
p Bhe drew herself out of,his embrace
I She raised her hand and struck him
fiercely across his face.
"I'm not your Lurline;" she said,
"and you cannot kiss me. Keep your
thoughts and words from such subjects.
Don't you dare "
"Dare? That sounds well from you.
Dare? Why shouldn't I dare?"
"Because I have not come here, all
the way from sunny Italy, to listen to
such folly. I came here to talk business!"
"That's a very good word?'business'
?a very good word indeed. You
| should secure a copyright on your
t peculiar use of it. You came here to
try and save your pretty neck, and to
I buy safety from me, didn't you?"
"Oh, yes," wearily, "I suppose so;
, and I brought money, lots of it. I sup.
T? I
pose you ve ncen khuioiiuk again. i?
t that true?"
"No matter if it is. Here, let's drive
out on this road a little way; I don't
^ care to go into Boomville yet. No mat
ter if I have been gambling. I didn't
i send for you for your money; I don't
want your money; I don't need your
, money; I won't touch "
I "Indeed? Am I dreaming? I begin
to think you didn't send for me at
! all."
, "Oh. yes, I did. You have my let (
ter. haven't you?"
"1 had It."
"Haven't you it now?"
"No. I destroyed it."
| "Did you? Much as you'd like to destroy
its author, 1 dare say. Is it not
so?"
I "Exactly as I'd like to destroy you,"
she said, with cruel emphasis.
"I can imagine," he said, "just how
you tore the letter into little frag,
ments and scattered them far and near.
And yet, you know I love you. Lurline."
| "You lie."
"I do not lie. I love you. And you
believed it once."
"Oh, yes, I suppose I did; I was a
fool?once; I believed anything?once."
"And I shall never forget that you
loved me. too; never?never?never."
"Did I? I sometimes doubt it."
"Rut von said vou did."
"Did I? That would prove nothing:.
Hut I thought I did."
Ho put his arm around her waist
again.
"Lurline, I swear I love you. I will
not give you up: I will not give you
up."
"You did <mee, anxiously and .decidedly."
"I know it, Lurline, and have cursed
myself for it ever since. I can never
forget that you had my name once,
that you were my wife once: can
you ?"
"God help me. no. I cannot forget
it. Nor can I forget that you applied
for a divorce from me, nor "
He took his arm away. Perhaps he
saw that tenderness was only maddening
her.
"Don't Lurline. don't," he pleaded.
"But I will speak," she shouted: "l
will; I will; I will. I have not forgotten
that you heaped shame and
obloquy on my name, nor that you did
it for the sake of another woman. You
taught me ^o despise you, Samuel Lyman,
and I learned the lesson well;
you taught me so mercilessly that I
shall never forgive you. I thought then
that I loved you. Now I know that I
never did."
"Ah! Perhaps you love some one
else?"
"Do you think it possible. Did your
treachery not teach me too truly and
fully the wickedness of men to leave
that possible?"
"Perhaps so, but I doubt it. What
about John Kane?"
She looked Lyman squarely in the
face. She snapped her lingers contemptuously.
"That for Rev. John Kane." she said.
"You don't love him?"
"I don't."
"Will you swear it?"
"I will. I swear I don't love John
Kane."
"Good. Now swear he doesn't love
you."
"He never told me he loved me."
"No, I presume he never did. But
hasn't every look and action spoken
louder than words could? Isn't the
only reason he hasn't told you the fact
that you have given him no opportunity?'
"Perhaps so. I don't know. I don't
, care. Now let us talk of something
else. I did not cross the Atlantic to
discuss my loves or my lovers with
you."
"Miss Bannottie, I beg your pardon;
you crossed the Atlantic to discuss any
topic which suited my pleasure, or
met with my approval. Do you understand?"
"I understand. What will you have
[ me say next?"
He caught her wrist in both his
, hands. He lifted her hand high above
, her head.
"Swear you don't love Walter AldI
rich!" he cried.
, She turned away her head. She
would not?or could not?face him.
, He could see the warm flush redden
her throat and her cheeks.
"I will swear no more," she said.
( brokenly.
I "Because you don't dare swear to a
lie?" he asked, triumphant malice in
? his tune. "Is that it?"
i "Perhaps so. A woman might be
- * * ? - * 4 hi #-?! ?
proud 01 me iove 01 win in- muntii,
might she not? 1 suppose that even
I such a man as you will admit that?"
"Yes, if she could win it. I haven't
I any knowledge of anything which Walter
Aldrich ever did of which he ought
. to he ashamed. Hut you know as well
as I do that Walter Aldrich never
> gave you a second thought."
"I know it."
: "You know he never cared for any
other woman than Elsie Barron. You
kno\V that, do you not?"
"You forget Constance Craig. Mr.
i Lyman."
"Pshaw; he never cared for her. He
> was her lawyer and her good frierd:
> that was all.".
"Hut hadn't they made up a lover's
> quarrel just before she?she?just beI
fore she died?"
"No,"
; . "Wasn't he engaged to Consta ice
Craig just before she was married?"
"No."
Miss Bannottie tinned toward Ly'
man with the fury of a tigress,
i "Then why, you villain, did you tell
. me so? Y<ru know you told me so."
! "Did I? I had forgotten it."
"You did. Why did you do it?"
Lyman laughed. |
"To excite your jealousy, I suppose."
"You knew I had nothing against
Constance Craig?nothing but that, did ?
you not?" t
"Certainly. I presume that was why
I told you. For you will remember
that I had a great deal against her."
"Oh, you scoundrel! you coward! r
you wretch! I will kill " r
I think Samuel Lyman was in more t
danger, for a moment, than he had
ever been in all his life before. I
think he* knew Miss Bannottie well
enough to realize that fact as he inter- I
rupted her. a
"I wouldn't do it here in the public highway,
if I were you," he said, with \
assumed coolness; "I have an idea that c
silence and secrecy are too precious to
you to be thrown away recklessly. Put r
up your revolver, m.v dear, and listen
to common sense and reason." t
"I?I will never forgive you."
"I presume not. You don't have to." ?i
"I am stilling. Get done with what
you have to say to me. I cannot j
breathe the same air as you do!" c
"I am sorry you stifle here; we will c
go to a cooler climate, if you wish. q
Here, let us turn back now; I think s
it is time to attend to a little business
at Barron's Boomville Bank. As for i
getting done with what I have to say
to you, I don't expect to finish the sto- j
ry of my admiration and affection for
some years yet, and as for breathing,
you'll have to get used to that -if you
continue to breathe at all."
"You may cease first," she muttered.
"Bh? What's that?" he demanded.
"You may cease breathing first."
The man smiled, in a lofty and su- a
perlor sort of way.
"Possibly. But I shall watch you, $
you tiger-cat, and I'll fix it so that if
I get a dose of poison or a half-foot
or" cold steel you'll be given a chance
to tell what you know about it."
"Will you? I shall never be near
enough to where you are?after tonight?to
make your punishment a
possible temptation to me?"
"Indeed! Do you know that I think
you will?"
"I don't understand you." _
"You will before I am done. Do
you see that gentleman on the other
side of the street? He's out rather ^
late, isn't he? He must have something
on his mind, mustn't he?"
"I see him; who is he?"
"I thought you might recognize him,
even in the dark. He is a gentleman j
from Boston who is spending a little .
fl
time here in Boomville?for pleasure,
he says. His name is Prier. and
Why do you tremble, Miss Bannottie? .
Is the night air too cold for you?"
"I am not cold," she replied, but she
shook as though in an ague fit.
"I had a letter once which I fancy
contained certain interesting informa- .
tion Mr. Prier would give a great deal ~
to possess."
"1 know It. I am ready to give a ^
great deal for the return of that letter."
\
"I thought so. Why? Are you afraid ^
I will betray you?" t
"Not exactly. You arc as guilty as *
I, and "
a
"That is just your mistake. That is
just the one weak point in your argument,
and in all the assumptions you t
have ever made. You were utterly
guilty; I plotted with you for a much ^
less crime than that you committed; ?
any jury would believe that, and most
men would sympathize with my desires,
even though they could not quite
approve of my way of gratifying them.
So, if punishment ever comas to us t
through the agency of the law?I say
through the agency of the law, because t
I know what to expect from you, if t
you dare, and shall watch you and p
guard against you accordingly?you
will he loathed and despised, while I t
am pitied and have excuses made for t
me. It would be awkward and un- a
pleasant for me to have the contents ^
of that letter made public, unless I c
were beyond the reach of the law?but j,
to you. it would be ruin." v
"We'll not argue the question. I do v
not agree with you. I think we are g
equally guilty, and I think any twelve
men would think so too. But I will
not waste time in a vain dispute with
you. What do you wish in return for
giving me back the letter?"
"I cannot give you back the letter."
"What?"
"I say I cannot return the letter."
"Why?"
"Because I have lost it."
A strange look came over Miss Bannottie's
face. It was as though she did
not know whether to laugh or to weep
I?as though she was uncertain whether
rejoicing or fear was most fiiting.
"Lost it?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"I do not know. I looked for it after
I had written to you. and it could not
be found. I do not know when nor
where I lost it."
"Nor who has it?"
"No. Though I think that if any
one had it we should have heard of it
long before this. Don't you?"
"I suppose we should. You are very o
frank. This gives me my freedom. ?
This destroys all your power over me." s
"Not quite so fast. It seems so at f
first sight, I grant. But have you noj r
already guessed how easy it would be Jj
to trace the guilt home to you if one c
knew you were guilty, to begin with? I
Do you not remember how much aid ^
there was to your arithmetical work. $
when you were a schoolgirl, if you only t
knew the answers? This letter is gone;
that is true; I am not playing with "
your feelings in that: it is actually i
gone. I may never see it again. I e
don't suppose I ever shall. But what e
ci
of that? If I were to assure an acute a
and experienced man of your guilt, if t
I were to drop a hint even, cannot you Sl
guess what the end would be? Sup- ^
pose I were to go to Prier, for instance, (
v
iiiid miy
"Don't." whispered Miss Rannottie: J
"I see all that yon would explain." s
"And you recognize the fact that I
you are not here to purchase the re- (
turn of your letter?"
"I do." <!
"Rut that you are to pay me for t
keeping silent?for not going to some ?
one, to Mr. Prier, for instance, and j
saying to him " c
"I understand. What is your price?" 0
j
"I'll tell you. I am going away. I am
going tomorrow or tomorrow night? e
between now and Monday, at any rate, c
and I am never coming back. My price
is?you. Forget that you were ever t
divorced from me. Marry me again, s
Oo with me. Live with me. I love
you, Lurline. I am determined to have *
you for my own again, or "
"Well, or what?"
"Or that you shall pay the law's penilty.
Do you understand and believe
hat?"
"I do."
"What is your answer?"
"It's somewhat sudden and unex>eeted,
Mr. Lyman; cannot you give
ne time to think? Such things cannot
>e decided In a hurry."
"Not a minute."
"Nor time to talk longer with you?"
"No. Here we are, at the door of
Barron's Boomvllle Bank. We'll go in
ind talk over the details of my plans
-if you consent to my wishes. Othervise,
we part here, and you take the
:onsequences."
i? r..i U/v
vjii, ,mr. uyman, ue meiuiiui?uc
nerclful as you expect mercy."
"I don't expect mercy?I don't expect
o tired it. What is your answer?"
"You know I hate you. Oh. keep
>ur secret and let mo pro."
"Never. You hate me; I love you.
am willing to risk the consequences
if your feelings. You must abide by
>ne or the other of the alternative conequences
of mine? What Is your anwer?"
"Oh. Mr. Lyman, you know there can
>e hut one answer."
"I think there can he hut one. What
F It?"
"Where are you planning to go?"
"I am going to Canada."
"fcamuel Lyman, I hate you "
"I am honored."
"And I will never forgive you "
"I shall never ask it."
"And I will be as merciless to you
,s you have been to me "
"When you can be, you may, if you
lare."
"But "
"Well?"
"When you?go?go?to Canada, I?
-will?go?with you."
To be Continued.
REDUCE THE ACREAGE.
'resident Taylor Issues Address to
Cotton Planters.
'o the Cotton Planters of the South.
Cotton today reached the lowest
>oint since Jan. 1, 1903. except from
Jovember to May of the big crop year
if 1904-5, when it sold two cents per
tound lower than this. What has
aused (his decline of three cents per
>ound in spite of the fact that the
ottun crop of the world is about 4,00,000
short of last year's crop? The
mly answer that I can find Is "Lack
if Confidence." The retailer is not
mying except as he needs the goods,
|ie jobber is doing the same, conseluently
the mills have no orders
head, while last year, and for sever.1
years past, they have had orders
looked from three to six months in
dvance.
What causes this lack of confidence?
'hey are afraid we will raise a bum>er
crop of cotton again this year.
Vhy are they afraid of a large crop?
'hey look at the past. In 1903 we
tad a short crop and good prices,
chlch was followed by a large acre??e
and good seasons and a bumper
rop. The next year, 1905-6, we had
. short crop and good prices, which
ras again followed by a large acre.ge
and a bumper crop. Had It not
ieen for the September storm in the
Mississippi valley and the exceptionlly
good trade the market would
irobably have gone to eight cents or
inder for that crop. We got a good
verage price fol* the good grades in
he crop, and a large acreaj?e was set
side for cotton last season, but owing
o the weather during planting time
he acreage was cut some and crops
>oor in Texas and Louisana enabled
is to get a good price for the most of
his crop. A month ago every indica
HMI WUS lllill \VC WUUIU I1UVC il 1 <1 i
creage this season, and the people
lid not care to place heavy orders for
otton goods, knowing that with a
arge acreage and fair season we
irould produce more cotton than the
rorld needed and the price of cotton
;oods would decline. They are good
usiness men, and you can't fool
hem.
How can we restore confidence? In
dace of planting the same acreage as
ast season in cotton plant 25 percent
ess. As soon as the acreage report is
ut in June or even before, the trade
rill know that there will be a moderite
crop raised this year and we will
lave the old time activity in the coton
trade. Jobbers will place their
irders ahead to enable them to supply
heir trade and the mills will contract
n advance for supplies of cotton and
he market will advance much faster
han it has declined. The result will
?e that you will market a crop of 11,>00.000
at an average of at least $65
?er bale, or a total of about $750,000,100,
If the weather conditions
hould lie unfavorable for the growng
crop and it should turn out a milion
bales less it would sell for fifteen
ents and bring a total of nearly
1800,000,000, and add to this the valle
of the feed crops that can be grown
?n the acreage intended for cotton
;nd it will give us another $50,000,i00.
Suppose that you plant the
ame acreage as last year and with
avorhble weather we would likely
nake anyway 13,000,000, possibly
nore. What would the price be unler
the present trade conditions? Not
iver an average of eight cents per
lound and perhaps lower. Say that
t averaged $4 0.00 per bale the crop
vould bring $520,000,000, at least
1300,flOO,000 loss to ine souui. now
o bring about this reduction. ?
It is not too late yet to plant corn,
lfalfa, sorghum cane, millet or cow
>eas for hajr. Or it will pay you to
et the land lie idle for a season rathr
than plant it in cotton at a loss. Let
very planter that reads this article at
nice arrange to reduce his own acreage
in cotton and show the article to
lis neighbor, or better call a meeting
it every country school house in the
outh and discuss this matter intelligently,
then go home resolved that
iach one will do his part. If you
lave any neighbors that will not reluce
send me their names and I will
ake r.he matter up with each one peronally.
This is no small matter, and
hope that members of the Southern
Cotton association and Farmers' Unon
will stand side by side on this great
ight. With a heavy acreage Wall
treet will set the price for our eot011
crop, with a light acreage we can
ret our own price within reason. Don't
ielay, but get busy at once. There
s plenty of time yet if you will only
lo your part. In 1905 by reducing the
icreage 15 per cent the price advanced
ive cents per pound, and we can do it
igain. I will be glad to hear from
ivery farmer that reads this and onlorses
it.
Do you want to return to the old
lays of five cent cotton? If not, join
his movement and we will make the
outh more prosperous than ever.
J. A. Taylor,
'resident National Dinners' Association.
Memphis, Tenn., April 18th, 1908.
lefeated In 1898 by a peculiar cnmhllation
of forces, and there Is a feeing
In the senate that he should re eivo
recognition for his light that
ear. Some of the county papers extressed
the opinion this last week that
lis attitude towards Governor Ansel
las strengthened him for the race in
910.
The office of state superintendent
>f education Is the only one of the
late offices for which there are as yet
everal candidates. Mr. Martin beng
no longer an aspirant for thl3
dace, the way is open for a new man.
County Superintendent of Educaion
E. C- Elmore, of Spartanburg,
yas the first to announce, and he has
nade a preliminary campaign. Couny
Superintendent S. R. Melllchamp,
if Orangeburg, was next to announce,
ind he has also done much work. Re cntly
Prof. J. E. Swcaringen, of Cclar
Spring's Institute, announced his
undidacy. Mr. Swearingen made a
emarkable record at the South Caroina
college a few years ago; he is
tone blind, but a brilliant young man
md a powerful orator, resembling in
ippearance and ability his distinguished
uncle. Senator Benjamin R.
riMman.
The office of railroad commissioner
? aln-ovo r>nnt?>?tprl for Commission
iUiscctliinrous grading.
OUTLOOK IN STATE POLITICS.
Campaign of 1908 Now Fairly Commencing.
NVws and Courier:
Columbia, April 19.?Special: Thl.s
week sees the opening practically of
the summer campaign in South Carolina.
as on Saturday the precinct
clubs meet to reorganize and this is
the foundation of the Democratic party
organization. In this state, of course,
everything is settled in the Democratic
primaries, which are held in August.
The precinct clubs elect delegates
to the county convention and
the county conventions, which meet
on Monday, May 4. elect delegates to
the state convention, besides selecting
a member from each county on
the state executive committee. The
state convention, held on May 20, will
elect this year delegates to the national
convention, and the state committee
will arrange the details of the
primary campaign subject to any regulations
adopted by the state convention.
As the rules now stand, adopted in
1904, there Is a provision for only one
campaign party, and not two parties,
as in 1902. At one time It seemed
likely that two campaign tours would
be necessary, on account of the fact
that there was a fight on for governor
besides a large number of candidates
for the United States senate,
but since the candidates have been
thinned to a stand it may be possible
to get along with only one campaign,
so that the candidates for all offices,
state and national, can stump the
state together, going from county to
county, and addressing the voters.
However, these stump-speaking tours
are not as popular as they once were
and do not draw the crowds which
turned out in the '90's, hence they do
not cut as much figure in the results.
A few weeks ago there were seven
nondMotoq mil fnr the United
States senate to succeed the'late Senator
Latimer, but Messrs. Darsan.
McCullouph and Henderson have
s
withdrawn, and this leaves at present
Messrs. O. R. Martin. John Gary
Evans, George Johnstone, E. D. Smith 1
and D. C. Hey ward. From expressions
In the county press It appears
to he^the opinion that the race Is between
Ex-Governor Evans and ExGovernor
Hey ward, but Mr. Martin
seems to object to the promulgation
of this opinion, and doubtless the
other candidates do also, but they do
not express themselves as freely as s
does Mr. Martin.
In 1902. when Messrs. Evans and a
Johnstone were also candidates for *
the senate, the votft In the first prl- s
mary stood:
William Elliott ; 13.658 r
John Gary Evans 17.893 r
J. J. Hemphill 13,261 t
D. S. Henderson 13,771
Geo. Johnstone 13,556
A. C. Latimer 22,971 1
I
Total 95,110 j
The second primary was between (
Evans and Latimer, and in the sec- v
ond election Mr. Evans received 36,- F
371 votes and Mr. Latimer 53,890, Mr.
Latimer being elected by a majority t
of 17,519 over Mr. Evans. Mr. Evans c
had been defeated for the senate In r
1897 and again by Joseph H. Earle F
In 1S96. By John L. McLaurln in c
1897. a
In the year 1902 Gapt. Hey ward
made his entry into politics, and the *
vote in the tlrst primary resulted as a
follows: c
D. C. Hey ward 36.551
M. F. Ansel 17,685 F
W. J. Talbert 18,218 I
J. H. Tillman 16.398 t
\V. H. Timmerman 6,515
Total ! 95.367
The second race was between Hey- 1
ward and Talbert, and the vote re- 8
suited: Hey ward 50,830, Talbert 40,- v
4 94, Capt. Hey ward being elected by r
a majority of 10,336. " In 1904 Gov- ^
ernor Htfyward was re-elected with- 1
i
out opposition.
The year 1902 also saw the political
debut of- the Hon. O. B. Martin, who f
in that year was first a candidate for
the office of state superintendent of r
education against the Hon. John J. '
McMahan, receiving 48,850 votes 8
against 45,891 for Mr. McMahan.
there being only the two candidates. *
Since then Mr. Martin has not had f
opposition for this office, being re- *
elected in 1904 and 1906.
These votes may or may not indl- '
cate anything as to the relative or the 1
real strength of any of the present
candidates, as conditions and issues *
change so rapidly in politics. For instance,
Mr. E. D. Smith, who is so
popular all over the south as the '
Southern Cotton association orator, *
was overwhelmingly defeated for
congress in this district when he ran
against Congressman Lever several
years ago. *s
The withdrawal of Mr. Feather- *
stone from the race for governor ^
leaves the Hon. C. L. Blease, senator 1
from Newberry, as the only candidate
against Governor Ansel. Mr. Blease *
was always a stalwart state dispensary
supporter, and since that insti- a
tution's abolition he has come out on s
an extended local option platform. r
Governor Ansel, on the other hand. ^
f
announces his platform this year to be
restricted local option, favoring the
law making the entire state prohibi- 4
Hon with the rigni to counties to exempt
themselves by majority vote (J
and sell whisky through county dis- 1
pensarles. Iiv 1906, when he was '
elected governor. Mr. Ansel favored J
the present county option system,
and in 1902, when he was defeated,
o
he favored the state dispensary as c
'Hhe best solution of the liquor ques- r
tion." Before that time he had been '
regarded as a prohibitionist. Mr.
Ansel, while a man of positive per- t
sonal convictions, has always been a 1
close student of popular opinion, and {l
his successive platforms indicate th?
trend of public opinion in this slate i
fairly well during the last few years, f
That the prohibitionists will be con- j
tent to have such a law enacted as
Mr. Ansel now advocates seems evi- t
dent from Mr. Fe'atherstone's with- (
drawal, but it is possible that some f
out-and-out. uncompromising prohi- j
bitionist, as Mr. Joel E. Brunson, may '
run this year on an ironclad prohibi- J
tion platform. I
While Mr. Featherstone in his withdrawal
announcement does not say J
so, it is presumed he will be a "vindl- r
date for governor in 1910. He was J i
t Caughman's term expires and he
s a candidate for re-election. So far
t is known that he will have opposllon
fi;om Mr. J. A. Summersett, of
Columbia, Major Fishburne, of Chare.ston,
Major H. W. Richardson, of
Columbia, "Cansler of Tlrzah," and
jerhaps others.
It appears now that the other state
(fflcials will not have opposition,
Secretary of State McCowan, Attorley
General Lyon, Comptroller Gen ral
Jones. State Treasurer Jennings,
^.dj. Gen. Boyd. However, the camjalgn
has just started; and the elecion
Is yet four months off, but the
ntries for state offices close In June.
In 1906, the total vote In the first
>rlmary ran to about 97,000, and
here was much Interest In the race
or governor and attorney general as
veil as for the legislature and couny
offices. With a warm fight for
tnte and county offices this- year, the
otal vote may go to 100,000. At any
ate, to win the candidate should
nuke sure of at least fifty thousand
'<>tes Jas. A. Hoyt.
BRYAN STIRS UP JOHNSON.
The Minnesotan Will Not Run From
the Fight.
Chicago. April 15.?Governor Johnon,
of Minnesota, before leaving for
lome today, had something to say
ibout a statement sent out by the
3ryan bureau at Washington, which
et forth that Johnson was twice
Jected governor through "luck" and
eprimandlng him for his "ir.ipertllence"
in becoming a candidate for
he presidency.
"I have had as many importunities
o become a presidential candidate
>oured into my ears without respondng
as any man in the country," said
5overnor Johnson, "and I fail to see
vhy any man should style it an im ertinence
on my part.
"My attitude has been plain and I
hought I had made it clear to everyone
I am not actively seeking the
lomination, but if the Democratic
>arty sees fit to select me as the canlidate
I shall be perfectly willing to
iccept the honor.
"By what right does anyone say
hat when people come clamoring for
id mission to my cottage I must not
pen the door?
"I don't know how the other man
roposes to conduct his campaign,
>ut so far as I am concerned I shall
ry to make at least a dignified con
est for the nomination.
"I propose that this fight for the
lomination shall be conducted In such
l way that Democrats of the country
rill say, at least, it was made in a
nanner dignified enough for the ofice.
Other candidates may act as
hey see fit. They cannot force me
nto a different behavior."
"You said 'fight,' " it was suggest>d
to him.
"I never ran away from a fight," he
eplied, "and I do not suppose I'd run
rom one now. but I am not attacking
tnyone.
"Mr. Bryan has said that he would
>e the candidate of the Democratic
tarty if it wanted him to lead it again.
have no quarrel with Mr. Bryan on
hat score. I should not attack Mr.
iearst if he were a candidate for the
residency again.
"And If I am not nominated at
Denver my opponent will at least
enow that he has been through a
ight when the contest Is over, for I
~ "P >
man leave many u wm ?>i .
Philadelphia Record.
Gloves From Whales.
Newfoundland whalers seized with a
pirit of enterprising economy, are retorted
to be attempting to place whale
ilde on the market, for the manufacure
of whale leather.
It is not surprising that such an atempt
should be made. It must vex
he spirit of any whaler of well-balmced
mind to see, after all the hardhip
and danger of his calling, an enornous
and altogether disproportionate
?ulk of his quarry cast away as reuse.
Prom a large right whale of, say, 45
o 50 feet in length, about 250 barrels
f oil and one and three-quarters tons
if baleen, or whalebone, may be obalned.
The remainder of the gigantic
arcass, which may be as much as 50,
ons, has hitherto been considered use- I
The average whale hide. If laid out
m the ground, would cover a surface
if nearly 1.5U0 square feet, at which
ate one whale, if its hide could be
nade into boots and shoes, would well
tock a boot shop.
It is also hoped that the intestines of
he whale will be made remunerative.
This product is descibed as very thin
ind tough and suitable for glove manlfacturers.
It is not likely, however, that whale
ntestlnes could be manufactured into
food motoring and driving gloves, for
vhich reindeer at present holds the
Ield against all other skins.
At various times many skins have
>een tried, such as the skins of crocoliles,
cats, pigs, calves, lambs and even
ats. Many of the men's cheap dress
floves on the market are made in Na !es
of the skins of the local sewer rats.
3ut practically all of the skins men*
ioned have been found treacherous,
ilove skins must not only be pliable
nit also perfectly tough and firm,
since they have to be sewn up right
it the edge. If whale intestines be
ound to possess these three qualities,
10 doubt there would quickly be a
narket for whale gloves.
THE INDIVIDUAL EAR.
Stop and Consider This Easy Way to
Lose on a Corn Crop.
What constitutes an ideal "ear of
corn? This question must be answered
by 6very corn breeder If he wishes
to succeed. He must have an ideal In
mind and work to that end. The ear
of his ideal must be determined by
the condition of the soil and climate.
In buying seed corn it ^s not advisable
to secure it from a long distance.
Seed corn should not be shelled until
near planting time, but early in the
spring a germination test should be
made of each ear and the poorest ears
discarded and the^good ears shelled
and the corn made ready for planting.
There is perhaps no one thing that
will do as much to increase the yield
of corn on every farm as the testing
of each ear to be used for seed. The
Importance of discarding the ears that
are poor in vitality is essential when
we realize that one good ear will plant
one-eighth of an acre.
The simplest and best method of
testing the germination of each ear Is
by using a germination box. The
most convenient box Is 3 by 4 feet,
with wire stretched crosswise forming
squares large enough to hold six
to eight kernels. Pill the box with
sand. Number each one of the
squares. Take a few kernels from
each ear and put In each of these
squares. Then wet the sand and
place a damp cloth over the box,
keeping the sand and cloth moist and
warm. Keep a record of the time of
germination and note the kernels
which fail to grow.
After the germination test the next
step is to prepare the corn for the
planter?by removing the mixed kernels,
the ununiform kernels; the injured
or rotten kernels and the tip
and butt kernels, when the corn
should be carefully shelled.
The value of testing the vitality of
corn which is intended for seed cannot
be overestimated. It is strange
how many farmers, even today, are
willing to plant corn without the least
certainty that the seed will germinate
and produce good, healthy plants.
There are thousands of acres that
have been planted over each year on
account of the poor vitality of the
seed.
I wish every farmer would stop to
consider this. Get a seed tester and
test your seed this spring. The vitality
of each individual ear of corn intended
for planting may be determined.
Tou can discard the poor ears,
keeping the good ears for seed. Some
farmers say they have not the time to
test the seed.
Stop and consider that it only takes
in ton (rood PATS for each
iiuill VlQtiV %v
acre. Suppose you plant an ear of
low vitality. Then you are losing oneeighth
of your crop, and it takes only
a few minutes to make the germination
test.?J. B. Petersen, Kansas.
THE DEED OF A HERO. ,
How a Brave Boy Helped to 8ave the
Indian Empire.
Not all the courage of war Is expended
on the battlefield. A boy once performed
a deed which contributed
greatly to save the Indian empire. At
the *tlme, In 1857, he was a mere lad
employed as an assistant In the telegraph
service. His name was W.
Brendlsh, and he sent at the risk of his
life a dispatch from Delhi to Umballa
which bore the first news of the outbreak.
This message, repeated to every
town which could be reached,
proved of priceless value. Colonel
Edward Vlbart In his "Sepoy Mutiny"
tells the story of how, to quote the Judicial
commissioner of the Punjab, "the
electric telegraph saved India."
It was the custom to close the telegraph
offices on Sunday between the
hours of 9 to 4. On May 10, 1857, as
the operator at Delhi was about to close
his station he received a message from
the Meerut office announcing an uprising
In that section. At 4 o'clock,
when the office was reopened, connections
with Meerut were found to be interrupted/
The telegraph force at Delhi consisted
of the chief and two young assistants,
Brendlsh and Pilkington. The
office was situated outside of the city
about a mile from the gates.
On discovering the break in the connections
the chief sent the two lads
to test the cable across the river. They
found that they could signal to Delhi,
but not to Meerut, and reported the
fact on their rteurn. It was too late
to do anything that night, but the next
morning Mr. Todd, the chief, went out
himself to investigate the line. He
never returned, and, although his fate
Is unknown, there is little doubt that
he was murdered.
The office was thus left in charge of
the two lads. Signs of trouble began
to be evident close at hand. Brendlsh.
stepping from the door, met a wounded
officer, who cried out to him, "For
God's sake get inside and close your
doors!"
The revolt crept closer and closer.
The boys felt that their lives were in <
danger. Soon they became sure of it.
But before they fled to a place of comparative
safety they waited to send out
to the Tndlan world the news of the
revolt.
Brendish ticked out the message
which caused Sir Edward to say: .
"Look at the courage and sense of
that little boy! With shot falling all
round him. he stayed to manipulate
the message that was the means of
saving the Punjab."
The government rewarded Brendlsh
for his services by giving mm a me
pension, and as an old man he died in
the India he had helped to preserve.
The Valve of a Word.?As soon
as the apartment house was ready
for occupancy the janitor placed a
"rented" sign in several of the second
and third story windows. When the
agent saw the placards he said a good
many things not exactly complimentary
to the discretion of the janitor.
"What did you stick all those notices
up for?" he asked.
"Because," was the reply, "the
apartments are really rented. I
thought it a good plan to let folks
know they were going off so quickly."
"That is all right in principle," said
the agent, somewhat mollified, "but
you didn't go about it in the right
way. That is not the proper kind of
a notice. Never use the word 'rented'
in a high class apartment. Always say
'leased.' It makes a better impression.
'Rented' sounds cheap. Any
agent who wants his apartments to
bring a big price will tell you that."?
New York Press.