Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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YORKVILLE ENQUIRER. ISSUED SEMI-WEEKLT. L.K.OEISI'8 3053, Pabiuhw.. j & 4amil8 : 4ar < >< ^promotion "HM ^gricultunl and Commercial Interests of th< jpeopl<. - 1 Established tSoo. Y"OR.1C VILLE, S. C., FRIDAY, MARCH 7, 19~L3. NO. 19. ' I THE AMERICA ' I | | By ETTA V* ? cyrcM>?<N>tocyiocmMx( CHAPTER XXX. ' A Last Account , ? In the dingy mualc-room of Madame 1 Manners' school, a wonderful suprano 1 voice, as clear and sweet as some i English lark's, was warbling Mireille's ] aria in Gounod's opera of that name. i At an open piano in a corner sat the ( singer, dressed in lustreless gray, with 1 bands of the finest linen at throat ana 1 wrist, and a great braid of golden hair drooping upon the nape of her snowwhite neck. The annual spring vacation had come and swept the scholars to their various homes for two happy weeks, but this pupil had no home, and, consequently, never left the establishment. Moreover, she was too deeply absorbed In study to care much for vacations. The door opened, and a man noiselessly entered the room and paused, unobserved, behind the singer. The sliver voice, which had been for more than two years under careful cultivation, broke into a series of marvelous trills, and then dropped into silence. I Its owner began to search for a new piece of music in a rack by her side. ' "Mercy!" She sprang up from the piano with a cry of delight. "Guardy!" lie took her face in his two hands, and klsed the white forehead tenderly. At the school it was generally acknowledged that the tie betwixt Miss Dill and her guardian was of an unusually strong nature. "My dear child, that voice will make your fortune some day," said Cullen Sardls; "your teachers tell me that your tident Is equal only to your diligence. They prophesy a bright future ior you. e She stood before him with grand, shining eyes, her golden head held high with the old superior air which had struck all beholders so forcibly in the days of her poverty and want? not the pale, wasted Mercy that we last saw in Mrs. Phillips's chamber; but a girl radiant with health and strength, and the knowledge of her own developed powers; clothed in soft raiment?for Cullen Sardis would have it so?her royal beauty perfected by more than two years of tender care, good food, rest from toil, and happy associations. She was like the longdespoiled princess of some fairy tale who had, at last, stumbled upon her birthright "I would rather hear you praise me, than any one else in the world." she answered, with a bright glance. "Do I not owe everything to you? Are you not the kindest the most generous of benefactors"? "Hush!" He laid his hand gently upon her lips, then drew her to the nearest chair. "Sit down, Mercy, I have come to talk with you for a little while. Are we likely to be interrupted?" "No," she answered; "I am the only pupil left in the house?it is vacation. The others are all away." Then a sudden alarm thrilled through her voice. "Guardy! how haggard you look?how pale! You are ill!" Konlror hnyt fnllpn into ft Seat. without, however, releasing his ward's slender hand. He was, as usual, faultlessly dressed; but his cool face looked gray and thin, his eyes were sunken In their sockets and bloodshot, either with sleeplessnes or great exhaustion. Mercy had not seen him before for three months, and she was greatly shocked by the change in his appearance. "No, I am not 111, my dear child," he answered, impatiently. "I am quite well." She sank into a low chair by his side. Her eyes, fixed earnestly upon his face, were full of anxiety and pain. He might deny it or not, but she knew that something was wrong with this, her benefactor, her kind, generous friend. The wan light of a rainy spring afternoon, struggled through a neighboring window and fell upon the two ?the girl, young and beautiful; the man with his uneasy eyes and gray face, scored with the unmistakable marks of inward torment. A smile curled his lip as he noticed how close ly she watched him. "My dear, I have lost some sleep, lately, and I have had some perplexing: business matters to think about? that is all. But it is of you of whom I wish to speak, not myself. How long have you been at this school, Mercy?" "Two years and six months," she answered. "And you have learned a great deal, have you not?" Her lovely hands fluttered, one over the other, on the lap of her gray dress. "Yes, Guardy; and it is time, I think, to turn the same to practical account. You have spent your money freely upon me?laid me under great obligations. With your consent I would now like to leave school, and become a teacher." He gnawed his gray mustache. "Obligations! Merciful God! Anything but that word! Hush! Mercy! don't talk of teaching; today?tomorrow?some other time we will discuss the matter. Now I have a story to tell you?one which you ou^ht to know ?which you must know. My cowardly tongrue has dreaded inexpressibly to make this revelation, but it can no longer be delayed. Place your hands in mine?that is right. Do you love me, dear child?" "Yes," she answered; "I should be an ingrate, indeed, if I did not. Have you not been like a father to me?" tjijo a father' Rlpss vou for those words!" and so. holding her slim fingers and looking into her wondering, uplifted face, he began: "Let me tell you how and where I first met your mother. It was upon a ferryboat in the harbor, one breathless. moonless. Ill-omened summer night. I had been dining with an old friend upon the East Boston side, and was returning a!one to the city proper, well satisfied with the sumptuous supner. myself, and all the world. As I stood on deck, smoking a cigar and watching the fantastic lights in the distance, a woman glided by me, noiseless as a spirit, and flung herself straight into the water. The passengers screamed, the whistle sounded, the boat slackened speed; but swifter than any of these things, I had leaped overboard ani was striking out for thi white face that arose in the black water and drifted past me like a fallen star. I dragged her from her selfsought grave, and reached the boat?I scarcely knew how. I had saved a hu u??. k..? ivmiM hnvp been a man uir, uui jv _ thousand times better for both rescued and rescuer had she been left to the doom which she coveted. Bear in mind, Mercy, that I was young; hot-blooded, Impetuous; the son of an old, rich, haughty family?an aristocrat by birth and breeding alike. I looked once at the face of the woman I had saved, and was lost! "She was young?a mere girl, and she was beautiful, with a wild, evil beauty, sugg< stive of some half-tamed leopardess, or some splendid Tartarean goddess. As I speak, she rises again before me, the perfect whiteness of her face shrouded in drifting black hair, her wild, glorious eyes ful! of anguish and despair, her slight figure dressed in plain, coarse mourning eloquent of sorrowful poverty. " 'Why did you save mo?' she said, wringing her hands; "why did you not leave me to drown? I do not want to live?I will not live!' "'You are mad!' I answered. 'Be ca'm. You must live, and you must let me take you home at once.' " 'I have no home," she shivered, and JV COUNTESS | PIERCE. | ot>?^?>cx^o<JOKKye then began to weep bitterly. "I called a carriage, and conveyed lier straightway to the house of a friend, where for three weeks after she lay ill almost unto death. Already the swift poison was work'ng in my veins, Her wild, dark eyes had done their work. I loved this waif of the water, :his girl altogether unknown to me?1 ItLU I1UI ICttI liCU OU U1U ~11 CM UCi notuv :hen?with as mad and unreasoning a passion as ever laid waste a man's lfe. "In the days of her convalescence the told me that she was without 'rlends or kindred; that she was the laughter of a poor, vagabond scenc>alnter, who had died by accident a 'ew days before her attempted suicide. She herself had been upon the boards luring his life, but only for a season ?she had no talent. Ehe was klnlesa. >ennile88, despairing; and her sole vlsh was to die. And this was all that [ knew of her?all that I, In my mad nfatuatlon, cared to know. A week ifter her recovery?don't start, my lear child?I married Marie Dill; for :hat was her name, and all that she lad said of herself was true. I married ter, Mercy, openly, honorably; there>y calling down upon myself a trenendous tempest of righteous lnllgnatlon from my aristocratic kinsoik, my shocked and amazed friends, t did not matter in the least. I was n love, heart and soul. I had inherlt!d a princely fortune, which I held Inlependent of all relatives, and I was eady, like another Antony, to fling he world away for the woman of my rhoice. "I carried her to a home crowded vlth every luxury which wealth could mrchase; I made her wild dark beauy to shine resplendent in costly Jew fits cuiu nun i&uriuB, i ounuuuucu u^i vith servants; I lived only to gratify ler whims and caprices. She was my dol; I was her slave. "For a few months this fool's paralise continued?yes, till your birth, dercy?for, though your heart may lot have told you the fact before, I am rour father, my darling, and you are ny child. Then came my awakening, iwiftly and surely. First the tried old 'amily servants hinted the fatal truth :o me; then I began to see it for mylelf. The woman that I had married, :he wife that I adored, she who sat it my board and bore my name, and >f whose beauty I was so inordinately >roud, the mother of my child?was :he 'willing slave of drink. Whether ;he vice was acquired In the luxury of ler new surroundings, or born with ler, a black taint in her blood, inlerited, perhaps, from her vagabond tether, I do not know, nor can it mat:er. Suffice it to say that with this 'rightful discovery the whole fabric of ny happiness tumbled about me like a louse of cards. God keep me from the nemory of that time! After your >lrth a legion of devils seemed to en;er and take possession of her. She vas simply ungovernable. For you she <nro<t nnthinir; and if she had ever 'elt any love for me?which I greatly loubt?it was now gone; consumed In :he unholy, terrible passion which had rained complete control of her. The llsgraceful scenes in my home, the continual attempts which she in her frenzy, made upon my life; the natural death to which she brought my love ?I shall not speak of these things to fou, Mercy. Life with her became unaearable. The nightmare of shame and horror which had fallen upon me was ;oo heavy to breathe under. I turned to the law for relief. In good time it livorced me from her, and gave me the custody of my child. She left me, rrathing threats of vengeance. "For a few months all went well. I saw from the very beginning of your ittle life that you were as unlike your nother, in looks and nature, as mornng is unlike night. You had the blue ?yes and yellow hair of my own ract?I used to thank Heaven devoutly for that?used to pray, too, that you would continue to grow unlike her, and imperfect as the prayers were, I cannot but conclude that they were heard. "My own sore heart and the scandal which this iinhappy termination of my ?J AwaaiA/1 mo Q f IH cl I I 1CU 111C iiau ticaicu, uiu?t ?*, last abroad. You were left, with youi nurse, to the charge of a relative whu had pledged her word to guard you faithfully till my return. Neither oi us could apprehend danger to you from my brief absence. "One day, when I was wanderinu through Italy, seeking rest and finding none, word came to me that you were lost? stolen? gone? nobody knew whither. Some person or persons had entered your nursery by night, while your attendants slept, and carried you noiselessly away. An open basement window, which a careless servant had left unfastened, the shred of a drest hanging to its sill, a print on the thick carpet of a woman's small foot smeared with the mud of the streel alone told the story of your abduction. "Moll Dill had taken you from mewreaked upon me the vengeance whicl she had promised; but at what a cosl to you, my innocent child! Every possible effort was at once made to apprehend the woman "und secure hci unlawful prey, but in vain. I sailed Immediately for home. For weeks and months I searched diligently for you? believe It. Mercv. it is God's truth! Knowing Moll Dili as I knew her, dc you think I could willingly have re signed my child to her future care' But, cunning as a fox, she eluded al pursuit; and after a time, I say It regretfully, remorsefully, I grew tired o; the search. All hope of finding yoi seemed lost: the rewards which I offered for your recovery were useless and as new purposes and eventi crowded into my life, the past becam< Intolerable to me, and everything con nected with it. I abandoned you t< your wretched mother. "It was not long before I contracte< a second marriage?one in my owi station of life, and my first unhappj union ceased to be spoken of?wai forgotten or ignored by the world, an< so passed, at last, from the minds o men. The second Mrs. Sardis, thougl fnllv cnnsfinim nf that Dlague-spot ii my life, has never once alluded to It li all the years that we have lived to gether. Her daughter, your sister, i; entirely Ignorant of my first marriage As for Moll Dill, she never crossed m; path, nor did I know whether she wa living or dead until the day of her re lease from Deer Isli.nd three year ago. Mercy, my child!" With a cr: he opened his arms. Strange that Mo! Dill's daughter should have touched j chord in this man's nature that Ethel the countess, had never found, an< never would find now. "On the nigh of your unhappy mother's death, knew you were my child," he said "Mercy, come to me!?to your father! She sprang into his arms. She wa pressed closely to his heart. With wha great, heavy strokes that heart bea against her own! Parent and child were united, a last. For more than two years Merc; had loved this man as her benefactoi her friend of friends; and now to fim in him the father whom she had neve known?this was joy unspeakable. "You were called Mabel in you baby-hood?not Mercy," he whispered "She changed your name. Well, 1 does not matter." There was a silence. The rain rat tied against the window, the ding; music-room was as still as deatt They embraced each other solemnlj All pride, all co!dness, had gone fror Cullen Sardis's face. He laid his hag gard cheek upon her golden hair. "You have been greatly wronged. he murmured; "I ought never to have abandoned my search for you. With a little patience and determination I might have found you, perhaps ?might have saved you from all your < sufferings with that woman. My poor ' child, forgive me?say that you forgive me." "I have nothing to forgive," she answered. tearfully. "Do not reproach i yourself. You did what you could. I You never wronged me In the least; and, as for my mother, she Is dead? we must forgive her everything." Presently she began to ask him about the sister that she had never seen. Her whole face lighted up with eager interest. He answered her kindly and patiently?told her all that she wished to know. "And she Is a countess," mused I Mercy, gravely. "A lady of rank and L fashion. Do you think she will care , to have me for a sister?" I "I trust so?I hone so." he replied, , ' "Ethel's heart Is In the right place. ' Tes, she Is a woman of fashion, but ' , she Is very unhappy, I fear. In her for- I ; elgn marriage. It was an unwise { match. I wish to heaven It had . never been! Mercy, I know your cour- 1 | age, your goodness, your wisdom?and something tells me you will be a great ' solace and support to Ethel In the 1 days to come." < She started up In her agitation, and ] stood beside him, one hand resting on j his shoulder. i "Papa?I may call you that, may I < not??do you mean that Ethel shall t know?" ? "Yes," he answered. "Surely. It Is j time." , j "And you are not ashamed to ac- j knowledge me to the whole world, pa- j pa?" 1 Something like a groan broke from 8 his lips. j "Ashamed? Great God! Don't talk j Hke that, Mercy. You hurt me sorely. Are you quite blind to your own beau- ( ty, your own worth?" i "Papa, you are rich and great, you j are known and honored everywhere, j and to think that I am your child? ( that I am to step from my small world t into yours, which is so' different, so , grand, confuses and bewilders me? r yes, takes my breath. Am I to leave t school?am I to go with you to your j home?" "Rich and great!" he repeated slowly; "known and honored everywhere! Quite true, I dare say. Certainly, you i will leave school; certainly, you will I go with me to my home." 1 "At once," she urged, eagerly; "to- ? night?" i "No," he answered, with an almost < Imperceptible shudder, "not tonight. ( Have patience. In a few days, Mercy." > He drew out his purse. "Here is a lit- 1 tie pin-money for you?youmay want ? it before I see you again. KememDer, your bills are all paid to the end of the present quarter?I hold Madame Manners' receipts for the same." "But, papa, I do not need any money," said Mercy, "my purse is well filled. Tou give me more than I can spend. And now, that I am to leave this place so soon"? "Take It," he Interrupted, quickly; "one never knows what a day may ? bring forth." ? And she obeyed, wondering at his strange manner. He gave an uneasy t start as a clock on the mantel struck > the hour. "How fast the day is passing!" he ? muttered; "and I have still so many ( things to say to you. My brave, beau- t tiful darling, I fear your lines were never made to be cast in pleasant j places." ( She did not understand this speech, nor the weary sigh that followed It. j He passed one hand across his fore- i head. t "I am worn out," he said. "Sing me ] one of your Gospel songs, Mercy. Per- j haps your voice can exercise the de- j mons that have got possession of me." ^ She took her place at the piano, and t played and sang her best for him. He i listened critically. He asked her a , hundred questions about herself, and J the knowledge which she had acquired j at the school. ( "1 had planned to serfd you abroad ( i to foreign teachers," he muttered; t "but?it is scarcely possible now. If such a thing was necessary, Mercy, do . you think you could earn your living j by your talent?" "Yes," she answered, "I am sure of i it." , He seemed strangely loath to leave < her. Long afterward she remembered j how he lingered, and lingered, while y the rainy day, and the mournful twl- i M?xht hwran to ereeD into the room. She remembered the tenderness in his 1 voice and manner, the kisses which ( he pressed on her forehead and hair, t the sad reluctance in his face when 1 the time came, at last, to bid her good- < I by. He even turned back from the i door, hat in hand, to embrace her again. A great heaviness fell, like a sud? den cloud, upon Mercy's heart. Tears ' | rushed unbidden to her eyes. "Papa, you will not return to New 1 i York tonight?" she pkaded. * "No," he answered; "I go another ' ' way tonight" J : "Will you let me see you tomor- ' f row?" ' He was very pale, but he smiled as 1 I he answered: 1 > "Yes?tomorrow." i She clung to him, sobbing, t "Somehow, I cannot bear to have j I you go. Oh, will you come again in the 1 ' morning?shall we meet in the morn- ' : ing, dear papa? And are you sure that 1 . you love me?" t "I love you more than anything else : in the world," he replied, frotn the 1 c Vio nf hio wrnnc heart: "and we 1 . shall meet In the morning, dear child j ?never fear." t One last look In his gray face?the 1 . door closed. She ran breathlessly to ' . the window, and saw his tall, imposr Ing figure moving away from the door 1 ?a dark shape, around which a darkj er night was gathering. He glanced . back at the eager face pressed against ! the window of the music-room, kissed , > his hand to it hurriedly, then went on, , . and vanished in the storm and the ? gloom. 1 Mercy had uund her father, and i she had lost him again. f From Madame Manners' school Cul- : i len Sardis went straight to his hotel, i where he supped with his usual ap. petite, and then retired to a private 3 parlor with Jacob Phillips, who had i i come to talk with him upon matters i - of business. The two were closeted toJ gether for a long time; then Phillips departed, and the banker locked his 1 door and sat down alone to write a 1 letter to his wife. >" It was a long?a very long communs Icatlon. In it he related Mercy Dill's I story, and commended her to the care ' and affection of Mrs. Sardls. Of Ethel i he wrote: "God only knows what will * become of her now. Her marriage has i been my ruin, as well as her own." - With the brief statement of a few s facts which were destined to astonish the world upon the morrow, the letter / closed. The writer signed and sealed s it, flung down his pen, arose and went - to the window. s Vehicles rumbled through the street V below: the rain was still falling; the 1 east wind blew up from the harbor. It ii was a dreary night for a'journey. He I. turned back into the room, full of 3 warmth and light and luxury, and t walked its length back and forth a few I times, his hands clasped behind him. I- his head bowed, his brain busy with " the last figures of a long account. s Then the great capitalist, the money t king, paused under the gas light that t shone mockingly upon his gray, awful fumhHnc at a r? Innor nnnk t et in his coat, slowly drew out a small, y shining object. He cast one look to , ward the letter on the table, another ii to the window, beyond which the rain r fell, and the street-lamps beamed cheerfully, and the streams of peo>''r went to and fro. Tomorrow the city I. would ring with his name?and nni t this city alone, but many others. Quietly he raised the muzzle of the . shining thing, and placed it against y his temple. One faint shudder shook, i. his tall figure, as the warm flesh and r. the cold steel met. Then there was a n flash, a report, the fall of a dead, heavy . weight along the thick carpet; and after that?silence. " (To be continued.) COMPULSORY ATTENDANCE, j= the Jer Second installment ol Educational Controversy. ? . . trlr BOTH CHAMPIONS AT THEII BEST. M gen Senator MoLaurin Goaa Down to the Root of Things, and the Editor of spii The 8tate Sticks Closely to the Lines ma Marked Out?The Discussion Bs- J*? comes More Worth While. Clla The second go round in the Joint de- Jjnl bate between Senator John I* Mc- JJ Laurin and the editor of the Columbia 5eg State appeared In the Columbia State er I of last Saturday. The opening appear- r?P ed to be more or less superficial; but In the articles printed today, the con- }ha testants are evidently searching for as bed rock principles. McLaurin'a Second Article. B^a To the Ediior of The state: out I have read carefully your strong or 1 editorial in reply to my urst article. Ln this paper I snail undertake to give some of the fundamental reasons . * which influenced my vote. To a large 5* extent I followed my Instincts. The *~11 ibleat speech (ln my judgment) on orJ; eiiher side was a manuscript read by . * senator hlpps of Williamsburg. It is ~*r nere thoughtful and carefully pre- ?1 . pared than anything I have time to do ' n the rush of the closing hours. I am r?" laving a copy of same made, and will *?n tend it to you with the quest that gf?1 fou publish it at your convenience for ?'e t is worth preserving. You scout the idea of "a negro-ridlen state," and because the negro has 10 political power, claim he is not a /*? actor in this educational matter. 1 ake issue with you on this point. Jur state is worse "negro-ridden" to- P :ay than it was when the sltqatlon * \as one where physical force could nan -t'lieve it Our whole educational eyeem so far as the negro is concerned ^ s wrong. fool The Form it Has Taken. We It has taken the form of a rapid catc nteilectual development, with which I lis moral advance has been unable to was ceep pace. It presents the problem In auc i deadlier form, turning out trained edu< legro minds with no place In our so- ? :lai and industrial system for the ne- the ;ro to satlsly the hopes and ambitions And vhich we are creating. The result is tlon :or the present not political but social Hon ind Industrial strife portending race wlti rouble (unless something is done) in- tysomparably more serious than any- war hlng which we have yet encountered, for however, this is a question that "the vin< east said, soonest mended," except on f t does seem a pity to spoil good plow lands to make sorry teachers and us.' oafers. 2d Points at Issue. crci I take it that the real point between we]j is is not the principle of compulsory thin iducation, but viz: are First Is its application suited to 80U] :onditlons in South Carolina? Is it a dee< vise policy? M]v second. Is it poverty or is it lgnor- forr ince that needs to be eradicated? Is BflTT1 >ne the sequence of the other, or is'it the: he cause? r|&] Waiving the minor points raised in 0f j ny letter and your editorial, let us get igm lown to basic principles. to I The southern people, especially dorr South Carolinians, are by tempera- the nent emotional and romantic, the tts, ^ nartial blood of Scotland and French up^ Jugenota flows in our veins, we are the >ecullarly susceptible to music, poet- tear v onH th? ohftpm? of oratory. Our tk?n vomen give passionate admiration to i ai ihivalric bravery. One has to have ived (as I have) in the cold, prosaic lorth to appreciate to what extent T ife in South Carolina has been poet- evei zed, and its politics beginning with civii Calhoun down to our present governor He lominated by sentiment instead of rea- thai ion. urei Will this people permit without ice, preparation an officer of the law to lay brui lis hand upon a child and say to the H parent you "must" or you "must not?" rest It matters not if you tell him it is for beei ;he child's good, the reply will come any luick and tierce, "take your hand off ides ny child" for "I am the Judge of the vhat is best for him, and I am respon- ers iible to God, and God alone." fort It may be foolish, It may be wrong, rev< }ut you need not compare the attitude tlon >f the submissive French peasant to t free born Carolinian, who has been :aught for generations to consider his T )wn will, the highest law in all mat- solu :ers affecting his family or person. It < Would be Vetoed. uar of 1*1 Now, it is well understood that no jompulsory education bill passed at :his session can become a law because it will be met by the veto of the govsrnor. It is regarded as a law aimed .gJ it those who were responsible for his * election last summer, wnen ne oi?uo . , this veto, as the champion of the only people who peed It, I ask you as an Ed, honest man, Mr. Editor, will It not ? , set back the cause of compulsory edu- , cation? I did not wish to refer to f this, but you force me to do so by denying my statement that it is class ? 8 legislation. Understand me now, clearly, if this, or any other compul- *: ? sory education law goes upon the stat- .j" ute books I shall support Its enforcement and do all in my power to ex- ,?. plain and make It acceptable to * the people of my county. In my humble sphere no man will do more Th, than I or seek less to make political f capital upon what I have no doubt is b a sincere, but mistaken step for the uplift of our people. poll Poverty or Ignorance? ty 1] Second. Is It poverty or ignorance est< that we have most to dread in main- be ] taining the perpetuity of our lnstitu- pap tions? I do not know that I have ene stated this proposition clearly, but whl what I mean to say Is that I know of can no people in the past who have been by i destroyed except from the faulty dis- to i trlbutlon of wealth. The decay and fall of every great nation has proceeded not from the Ignorance of the A masses so much as from the selfish flna greed of the educated few. By the of control of the government they sue- tho ceeded In concentrating into their hav hands all the wealth of the country. to 1 Which, I ask you, Is the greatest law danger, the "Money trust" In New are York, using our cotton crop to erl- Sou slave us, or the toilers in the fields, idei the factorv and the machine shop? any The disorders in Mexico are caused rigl not by ignorance on the part of the exp masses, but from the fact that for gov twenty-five years Diaz permitted the the exploitation of Mexico to such an ex- bee tent that the masses are ground down ern with poverty and that the land is own- ern ed by about 7,000 people, and most of the them foreigners. The ignorant masses prh ranged themselves behind Madero, due the highest type of statesmanship yet int? produced in Mexico, and drove Diaz the and his foreign corporations out. The any new revolution fomented by the gold Am wrung from these down-trodden peo- per pie overturned Madero and his murder of If. one of the foulest blots on the pages the of history, aomparable only to the as murder of the Roman Gracchi. Here Go< we find ignorance on the side of pa- hur triotism and Justice, while culture and lty' intelligence dominated by selfish greed est resort to brutal assassination. ' a r Followers of Washington. J?' It was the plain, ignorant masses bes led by Washington, that won us our sun freedom. Philadelphia, New York and I other centers of intelligence gave up say the fight and fraternized with the Brit- con lsh. Who were the Tories in this war con of freedom? Were they not from the you wealthy educated classes for the most gin part? mo Who made the Reformation under to Martin Luther a success? Not the no- out billty and cultured few, but the ignor- op ant masses, rebelling against the tyr- hln anny of Rome. uca Few of the barons on the field of gre Runnymede could sign their names to an the great charter which Is the basis In I of civil liberty in America today. The gat greatest Teacher of all, the son of a of penter, born In a manger was foled by the Ignorant and crucified bj chief priests and educated men ol usalem. Peter was a simple, lgant fisherman until the Mastei 1. "Come, Peter, I will make you a ler of men." Now, Mr. Editor, ] not prepared to accept your docle that Intellect necessarily rnaket ood citizen or that education is th< 9 qua non to the exercise of intelllit suffrage. The evolution of a pie and the development of a civatlon depend upon the moral and ritual more than the intellectual oi terial. Republican freedom and a imphant plutocracy can not coexin this nation. There is an irrecon.ble antagonism between them, and .Aw.??l,l?or < rirtnn olnnr th( COO BVI11C11IIU5 10 %*v.*v I have Indicated In my warehouse . an Irrepressible confllot already un must rage until one or the othIs destroyed. It will be but history eating Itself, and your puny little lpulsory education law Is pitching tws against the wind. God grant t the few of us who see the truth It Is. and know conditions as they , can succeed In making the con; a moral and financial one, thai 11 be righteously determined withthe shedding of one drop of blood, the falling of a single tear. Issue in a Nutshell. [ere Is the issue in a nutshell and oes not require a compulsory eduon law for the "man with the hoe" it the loom or bench to see It. he farmers and laborers, those d-handed creators of all the wealth today, and whose willing toll Is ng value to all of the garnered ilth of yesterday are angrily mutng. "We are discontented with sent conditions, because an equlta> portion of the wealth we create s not remain with us to bless our tllles. We demand a -righteous rejstment of present evil conditions. do not ask of your stored up .1th, and will not be curious how came by It; we look not to tne t, but to the future, and want merehat value that la wrought by our da." The Reply. rhat do you reply, "poor, ignorant a, unfit to control your children, will take them from you and edu? them to submit" say no; "give theae people more ;ea, higher prices for their prots, so that they can control and cate their children aa I do mine." tr. Editor, most of them can read Bible, and in Mlcah, 3d chapter, we after twenty centuries of educawords which fitly describe condl8 today: 'They build up Zlon 1 blood and Jerusalem with inlquiThe heads thereof Judge for red, and the priests thereof teach hire, and the prophets thereof dl) for money; yet will they lean upthe Lord and say, 'Is not the Lord ing us? None evil can come upon [r. Editor, a traditional loyalty to 's country and a perfunctory revice for its constitution is all very 1 under ordinary conditions, when igs run smoothly, but when hearts filled with generous rage, and Is are aflame at sight of noble Is, men quickly declare themes emancipated from all orthodox nulaa that shackle, whether the .e be political or religious, whether r live under the rule of the impecaar or under our own oligarchy imerican piuiocrais. me metimuof government belongs strictly the physical world and can only klnate the perishing bodies of men; real ruler Is their Immortal splrwhlch laugh at chains as they soar rard toward the stars. Think you plowboy or the millworker will n these lessons from the appllcar of the law of force to education? lswer no. . Law of Force. he law of force was applied by y government and under lay every tlzation up to the birth of Christ, brought a new Idea into the world, t true greatness was to be measi by the capacity for human servlnstead of dominion founded on te force. [e preached the doctrine of nonstance and his "resist no evil" has i more thoroughly recognized than dogma ever promulgated. His l was that the individual soul was highest of all things, and its povvV?a anralrana/1 hv Q n V ?f LUU1U UUl UC a tt unv^wvu m?# -p. to force or compel It, but only by waling to each soul a true concepi of Its powers and possibilities. Ides is Repugnant. he idea of force in any form is abitely repugnant to his philosophy, was his constant effort to dispel kness, not by lighting it, but by king a light He was too wise and great to use force. To illustrate ipplied to u.is question, I know one i in South Carolina when the good is agitation first began, who spent 0 building a sand-clay road. It >d there as an object lesson, and it s. no compulsory law to get the nty to go on with the work. Mr. tor, no man is more anxious than > strike a light which shall dispel kness in South Carolina, but I do believe it can be done through the an darkness of force. There can no true progress not based on the losophy of JeBus Christ Leaving the question of his divinity, it is only philosophy that is ultimate, e is what I say, there are many 1 men in South Carolina; are there thousand who will give each one usand dollars, will you be one? s would create an educational fund one million dollars, sufficient to Id a model rural school in every nty in the state, to stand there and nt the way as did $600 in one counn the good road movement. I will (em it an honor and a privilege to permitted to head the list, and your ier with the same intelligence and rgy that it put into the corn show, Ich has done so much for the state, make far greater headway than applying the doctrine of brute force education. Thought That Will Oominato. lr. Editor, the thoughts which will Uy dominate the world are those r<nnfii/<liia nnrl Christ, not se of the Caesars. Statesmen who e no broader sweep of vision than look upon a compulsory education as the panacea to save the world, totally unlit to lead a people in th Carolina or anywhere else. My i of government is that I can do thing which does not curtail the its of another. It finds its finest ression in the statement that all ernments derive their power from consent of the governed. That the t government is the one that govs the least. It means that the govment should lay its strong hand on throat of a money trust, which defes me of a fair reward for the proit of my labor, but it does not mean irfering with or forcing me to adopt educational or religious ideas ol ' other individual or class. The erlcan citizen left alone in these sonal matters will in the evolution time unfold slowly and normally wonderful possibilities of his soul naturally as the lilies unfold in 1*8 light, air and sunshine. "The nan soul is a spark struck off divinit can not be brought to its highperfection by coersion, but only by tormal natural unfolding, like the i*er which the gardener plants, cullies and teaches us to make the t use of the moisture, food# and shine. n conclusion, Mr. Editor, let me that I have given my first real secutive thought to the subject of ipulsory education tonight. Dc i know what I think is the real benlng of this great educational vement? I believe it is due more the men that Wofford college sent thirty years ago. Men like Blsh Duncan, and later. John Kilgo, lself the finest example of what ed.tlon can do that I know of. A at man. These devoted men made educational campaign, beginning the '70's, going round to the public herlngs and preaching the doctrine self culture and development. 1 know when a boy my ambition was ' first kindled by hearing Prof. Duncan F at a school breaking at old Hebron church. I remember the thrill that ' went through my young soul at the l 'thought "may be some day I can [ stand up and sway a crowd as does that master mind." Ood rest his soul. ? Perhaps In some way, I have incited ! the ambition and raised the hopes of some boy in South Carolina. If so, l then I have not lived in vain. I close with this thought to the I young men and women of my state: * "Be noble and the nobleness that lies i in others, sleeping, but not dead, will rise In majesty to meet thy own." John Lowndes McLaurin. I s The 8tate?? 8econd Reply. - Senator McLaurln's second article in ' defense of his position against com pulsory education is published today. ' Two days ago a friend Inquired of the > writer: "Do you think Mr. McLaurln > will continue the discussion?" "Oh, - yea," we responded, "he is a lawyer, ' and will come bapk, and with more ' 'words' than the first time." Our pre' diction is verified. Words, strings of - words, strung on the unsound thread of fallacy. And since the senator delves so frequently into Biblical lore, we roust recall an apt Job's criticism: "He multlplleth words without knowledge." The senator's introduction of the negro is foreign to the subject under discussion. But so long as there is , superior white intelligence there can be no such thing as "negro-ridden" , South Carolina, and so long as we have faith in the superiority of the white race we can not be frightened by a negro bugaboo. To our thinking no man who feels his superiority is ever afraid of an inferior, whatever the odds, whatever the cost But in what better way can the white man be fortified in his natural superiority over the negro, than by training his mind that is naturally susceptible to greater development under cultivation? Hear the senator: With the martial blood of noble Scots or chivalric French in the veins of South Carolinians. with our emotional tempera merits, our love of romance and music, our susceptibility to the charm of poetry and oratory would we submit to have an officer of the law lay his hand upon a child and say to a parent, "you must" or "you must not?" Does the senator forget that his audience, to whom he speaks through the State, Is Intelligent and knows conditions in South Carolina? He can not ' hope to appeal to them with sophls- 1 try, however high flown. Fine words for a gentleman of leisure whose broad acres yield him incomes requiring Ave figures to express, but where is the 1 music or the poetry or the finer emotions for the poor fellow who, denied the privilege of a chance In life by being denied literacy, has only his ' hands to work with, and who cannot > earn on Mr. McLaurln's farm an average wage of 75 cents a day; whose < clothes are rough and Insufficient; who owes the country store-keeper for last month's meal and meat, and to whom "white bread" and molasses would be ! a delicacy! Recite Browning to him, senator; try him with the Third Act of "King Lear," and then Insist to him that the South Carolinians who Insisted upon his lack of literacy and there- [ fore placed him on the educational level with the negro farm hand are his true and loyal friends! 1 It has not been proposed that an j "officer of the law" shall "lav his hand upon a child," and In putting It ' that way the senator appears to appeal to passions and prejudices of Ignor- ' Thl. law whan nut.into effect ' auvc. a uiv i ....... by a majority vote, would be the corelative of the child labor law. One 1 says your child, for ita good and for 1 the future of the race, shall not labor before it is 12 years old; the other < says, your child, for the sake of Its ' own future profit and happiness, for ! the safety of the republic, and for the 1 fortification by superior cultivation of 1 the white race, shall learn to read and | write. Precisely this same narrow, un- I sound argument about the right of the 1 parent to control his child was itera- 1 ted and reiterated when it was first 1 attempted to prevent 8-year-old babies : from working ten hours a day in cotton mills. And then, too. It was "the friend of the poor man" who spoke. 1 If, the future men could vote today, the children of today would have more friends in the halls ef legislation. Mr. MoLaurln's contention that the 1 passage of a compulsory bill at this ; session was understood to be useless because of the well-known purpose of the governor to veto it, Is no defense of his opposition. Let every tub stand on its own bottom. For the legislative branch of the government to refuse to enact a progressive measure "because" of the known opposition of the execu- 1 tlve would be a surrender by the legislative to the executive department of the governmert. Such surrender would be not only violative in spirit of the constitution, but culpable and cowardly. "Is it poverty or ignorance that we have most to dread in maintaining the perpetuity of our institutions?" asks Senator McLaurin. His answer, through the trend of his argument, is ?Ko? nnvortv ( most to be dreaded; we answer that Ignorance Is the greatest foe. With primer-like simplicity our contention is established, viz: ; throughout the world poverty and Ignorance go hand-ln-hand; throughout the world poverty is never overcome i by Ignorance; It Is only overcome by intelligence, therefore the one hope of prevailing against poverty Is through Intelligence, i "The decay and fall of every great nation," says Senator McLaurin, "has proceeded not from the ignorance of the masses so much as from the selfish greed of the educated few. . By the control of the government they succeeded In concentrating into their hands all the wealth of the country." Will Senator McLaurin have the goodness to tell us how the few greedy educated ones could have enslaved the > masses and done as they pleased with the country except through the ignorance of the masses? They controlled the Ignorant like so many sheep In a """'i'"1 Thomnn Jefferson, a century and a quarter ago. In urging that all 1 the people should be educated, de| clared that the danger of the country lay In selfish schemers being able to misuse the Ignorant vote. In season and out of season Thomas Jefferson preached for universal Uteraey; Ignorance was the enemy he feared. , "Which, I ask you, Is the greatest , danger, the 'Money Trust' In New York, using our cotton crop to enslave us, or the tollers In the fields, the fac- 1 tory and the machine shops?" Listen to the answer. The money trust Is the greater present danger. But how came the money trust and the other trusts to become enthroned ? Through the Ignorance of the people who were twisted and turned by powerful agencies and used to continue the Republican party, breeder of trusts, In power. Who now menaces the money trust and the other trusts? An Ignorant man? No, the "Schoolmaster," the man given leadership and power by people who have seen the light. The senator does not understand the conditions In Mexico?or rather he misinterprets the cause of their troubles. There Is no compulsory education there, and a vast amount of Ignncanno Thfl ignorant are ODDressed , by the educated, and they know not how to retaliate except by force; then | other selfish educated men band the I Ignorant together to fight for their selflsh alms. And so It goes. The mass, es are always the sufferers, and Ignori ance Is the foundation of their trour bles. J No, senator, the Tories of the Revolution were from no particular class, j In that day there was more Illiteracy , than now. but more general intelligence. The times did not require literacy as now. Even less reading and writing needed qualification for the men of Runnymede. There was then no advantage In knowing the writing i art. therefore few except the priests ; and professional scribes learned It. | Put today the man who can not read (Continued on page four.) WILSON'8 INAUGURAL. New President Outlines His Controlling Principles. More than twenty thousand people listened to President Wilson's Inaugural address last Tuesday. The address was brief; but remarkably comprehensive. The full text of it Is as follows: There has been a change of government. It began two years ago, when the house of representatives became Democratic by a decisive majority. It has now been completed. The senate about to assemble will also be Democratic. The offices of president and vice president have been put into the hands of Democrats. What does the change mean? That Is the question that Is uppermost In our minds today. That Is the question I am going to try to answer. In order, If I may, to inter pret the occasion. It means much more than the mere success of a party. The success of a party means little except when the nation Is using that party for a large and definite purpose. No one can mistake the purpose for which the nation now seeks to use the Democratic party. It seeks to use it to Interpret a change in Its own plans and point of view. Some old things with which we had grown familiar, and which had begun to creep Into the very habit of our thought and of our lives, have altered their aspect as we have latterly looked critically upon them, with fresh awakened eyes; have dropped their disguises and shown themselves alien and sinister. Some new things, as we look frankly upon them, willing to comprehend their real character, have come to assume the aspect of things long believed In and familiar, stuff of our own convictions. We have been refreshed by a new insight Into our own life. Greatness of Life. We see that in many things that life Is very great. It Is incomparably great in its material aspects, In its body of ioU in WiuAoaitv onH au/aan of w VtU kli, Ui iUC Ul T bt a* ?N*w >r? ?wr v. its energy, In the industries wnich have been conceived and built up by the genius of individual men and the Umitiesa enterprise of groups of men. It is great, also, very, great, in its moral force. Nowhere else in the world have noble men and women ex* hlblted in more striking forms the beauty and the energy of sympathy and helpfulness and counsel in their efforts to rectify wrong, alleviate suffering, and set the weak in the way of strength of hope. We have built up, moreover, a great system of government, which has stood through a long age as in .many respects a model for those who seek to set liberty upon foundations that will endure against fortuitous change, against storm and accident. Our life contains every great thing, and contains it in rich abundance. Evil With Good. But the evil has come with the good, and much fine gold has been corroded. With riches has come Inexcusable waste. We have squandered a great part of what we might have used, and have not stopped to conserve the exceeding bounty of nature, without which our bounty for enterprise would have been worthless and impotent, scorning to be careful, shamefully prodigal as well as admirably efficient. We have been proud of our industrial ^enlevements, out we nave nut aiuiarto stopped thoughtfully enough to count the human cost, the cost of lives snuffed out, of energies overtaxed and broken, the fearful physical and spiritual cost to the men and women and children upon whom the dead weight and burden of it all has fallen pitilessly the years through. The groans and agony of it. all had not yet reached our ears, the solemn, moving undertone of our life, coming up out of the mines and factories and out of every home where the struggle had Its Intimate and familiar seat With the great government went many deep secret things which we too long delayed to look into and scrutinise with candid, fearless eyes. The great government we loved has too often been made use of for private and selfish purposes and those who used It. had forgotten the people. A vision. At last a vision has been vouchsated us of our life as a whole. We Bee the bad with the good, the debased and decadent with the sound and vital. With this vision we approach new affairs. Our duty Is to cleanse, to reconsider, to resiore, to correct the evil without impairing the good, to purify and humanize every process of our common life without weakening or Bentlmentallzlng it. There has been something crude and heartless and unfeeling In our haste to succeed and be great. Our thought has been "Let every man look out for himself, let every generation look out for Itself," while we reared giant machinery which made it impossible that any but those who stood at the levers of control should have a chance to look out for themselves. We had not forrntten our morals. We remembered well enough that we had set up a policy which was meant to serve the humblest, as well as the most powerful, with an eye single to the standards of Justice and fair play, and remembered It with pride. But we were very heedless and in a hurry to be great We have come now to the sober second thought. The scales of heedlessness have fallen from our eyes. We have made up our minds to square every process of our national life again with the standards we so proudly set up at the beginning and have always carried In our hearts. Our work Is a work of restoration. Things Needing Alteration. We have Itemized with some degree of particularity the things that ought to be altered, and here are some of the ahlaf It am a* A tariff which cuts US off from our proper part in the commerce of the world, violates the just principles of taxation, and makes the government a facile Instrument in the hands of private interests; a banking and currency system based upon the necessity of the government to sell its bonds fifty years ago and perfectly adapted to concentrating cash and restricting credits; an industrial system which, take it on all sides, financial as well as administrative, holds capital in leading strings, restricts the liberties and limits the opportunities of labor, and exploits without renewing or conserving the natural resources of the country; a body of agricultural activities never yet given the efficiency of great business undertakings or served as it should be through the instrumentality of science taken directly to the farm, or afforded the facilities of credit best suited to its practical needs; water courses undeveloped ; waate places unreclaimed, forests untended, fast disappearing without plan or prospect of renewal, unregarded waste heaps at every mine. We have studied as perhaps no other nation has the most effective means of production, but we have not studied cost or economy as we should either as organizers of Industry, as statesmen or as Individuals. Not Merely Sentiment. Nor have we studied and perfected the means by which government may be put at the service of humanity, in safeguarding the health of the nation, the health of its men and its women and its children, as well as their rights In the struggle of existence. This is no sentimental duty. The Arm basis of government is justice, not pity. These are matters of justice. There can be no equality, or opportunity, the first essential of justice in the body politic, if men and women and children be not shielded in their lives, their very vitality, from the consequences of great industrial and social processes which they cannot alter, control, or singly cope with. Society must see to it that it does not itself crush or weaken or damage its own constituent parts. The first duty of lajv is to keep sound the society it serves. Sanitary laws, pure food laws, and laws determining conditions of la bor which individuals are powerless to determine for themselves are intimate parts of the very business of justice and legal efficiency. "Do It Now." These are some of the things we ought to do, and not leave the others undone, the old-fashioned, never-to^e-neglected, fundamental, saferuardng of property and of lndivlduafright. This is the high enterprise of the new day; to lift everything that concerns our life as a nation to the light that shines from the hearth-Are of every man's conscience and vision of the right. It Is Inconceivable that we should do this as partisans; it is inconceivable we should do It in ignorance of the facts as they are or In blind haste. We shall restore, not destroy. We shall deal with our economic system as it is and as it may be modified, not as It might be If we had a clean sheet of paper to write upon; and step by step we shall make It what It should be, In the spirit of those who question their own wisdom and seek counsel and knowledge, roc shallow self-satlsfactlon or the excitement of excursions whither they cannot tell. Justice, and only Justice, shall always be our motto. Nation Deeply 8tirr?d. And yet It will be no cool process of mere science. The nation has been deeply stirred, stirred by a solemn passion, stirred by the knowledge of wrong, of Ideals lost, of government too often debauched and made an Instrument of evlL The feelings with which we face this new age of right and opportunity sweep across our heart strings like some air out of Ood's own presence, where justice and mercy are reconciled and the Judge and the brother are one. We know our task to be no mere task of polltics, but a task which shall search us through and through, whether we be able to understand our time and the need of our people, whether we be Indeed their spokesman and Interpreters, whether we have the pure heart to comprehend and the rectified will to choose our high course of action. This is not a day of triumph; It Is a day of dedication. Here muster, not the forces of party, but the forces of humanity. Men's hearts wait upon us; men's Uvea hang In the balance; men's hopes call upon us to say what we will do. Who shall live up to the great trust? Who dares fall to try? I summon all honest men, all patriotic, all forward-looking men, to my side. Sod helping me, I will not fail them. If they will but counsel and sustain me! 8IRIU8, THE 000 STAR. It Gives Out Thirty Timet Mora Light and Haat Than Our Sun. The dog days are the hottest part of associated with the heliac?J rising of Sirlus, the dog star?that Is, when 81rlus and our own sun crossed the meridian at the same time in midsummer. The great heat was supposed to extend from twenty days befwe the rising of Sirlus until twenty days after; hence the total dour days were forty. The Romans dated the period from July 3 to August 11. The dog days can be no longer Identified with the rising of Sirlus owing to the effects of precession, the star rising later every year. In time Sirlus will cross the meridian in midwinter. At present the dog days are popularly supposed to extend from July IB to Aug. 16, but are not associated with the star. This Is the hottest and most unpleasant period in our latitude. "-J * Sirlus, the dog star,--may be easily recognized, as he Is five times brighter than any other star in our firmament He gives out thtrty times mors light and heat than our own sun, but is 556.000 times farther away. He now rises about 16| degrees south of due east and in our latitude is with us from October to May. In midwinter he is In full view for ten hours every clear night.?Christian Herald. ? Oaffney Ledger: Every county In the state and presumably every state In the Union, boasts of some of that brilliant population which takes a delight in getting a chance to spread a rsnnrt whlrh la rfl.!(*nlAtRd to InlUfP tome man or set of men, and when they once get the ball atarted to rolling they are never willing to let up. Such It the case with some of Cherokee's people and as a result a false re!>ort has been spread all over the county to the effect that the live stock of Gaffney Is afflicted with a very contagious disease and that horses and mules are dropping dead in Gaffney dally from this dread disease. Country people who have been coming to town have been hitching their animals on the edge of the city and walking lt> fearing that their live stock would also contract the supposed-to-be fatal disease. There is no such disease In Gaffney and men prominent in live stock circles have given the He direct to the report. It is true that some of the animals In the city suffered with something similar to cold and a veterinarian, employed by the state of South Carolina, was brought to Gaffney from Clemson college. After making a full Investigation in Gaffney, this man stated that the few animals here which were sick were suffering from a deep seated cold and that it was not a contagious variety. The cold is known as "shipping cold" and was caused by the fact that in the Immediate section me weamer oai unru uaiuii ?uu i?uj and there have been but few freezes. This has largely contributed to the colds. The state veterinarian urg<*d the people of the county not to bepome alarmed over the matter, as there was no room for any serious apprehensions of any kind. Some people started the report that the trouble had been diagnosed as glanders. This Is utterly untrue. C. H. Robblns, a prominent Gaffney veterinarian, stated to a Ledger reporter Saturday morning that there had never been but one case of glanders in Cherokee county that he knew of, and this was several years ago. Speaking further, Mr. Robblns said: "If there is a single sick horse In Gaffney at this time, I do not know of It" There Is no reason for Cherokee county people to be alarmed over a purely Imaginary trouble and this article Is written witu the hope that the suspicion of such a disease as glanders being prevalent here, will be disseminated. Save vthe Birds.?Every lover of *?" ? ' J ?a ~ *a V* I a nnn _ uirus snouia si uiiuc nine ?< v?..gressman urging the passage at this session of congress of the McLean bill. This bill gives to experts of the United States department of agriculture the power to make regulations for the protection of migratory birds. The men to whom this work would be entrusted are the authorities on bird migration. The devastations of insects injurious to vegetation have become a'arming, and these are due in large part to the decreasing number of birds. It is to the advantage of the farmer to protect the birds that prey on the enemies of his crops and fruit trees, and the protection to be afforded by this legislation means an economic saving to every consumer on this continent. The McLean bill (Senate No. 6,497) has already passed the senate. If it does not pass the house at this session the campaign will have to be renewed. It is the duty of ever:/ bird lover, farmer and believer in conservatism to use his Influence to secure the immediate enactment of this law.?New York Sun. tT A man imagines his troubles would disappear if he had all the money he is entitled to.