The Anderson intelligencer. (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, June 23, 1887, Image 1
E. B. MUEEA'
J. G. CLINKSCALES, Editob.
Vv^he ;ol^ ffiends-of Miss ifoiggie
;J^i*h?Dd-:will be rejoiced to know thai
l she will probably attend the Institute.
Miss, Maggie is. in Georgia now, but
wants to come back to this side of the
^Sver;. V , ~ . . , t .
Miss $cttie J^arle was in this office last
^Iwjieki - vSfreind hcr brother will attend
, Vtte institute. Miss'Bettie is popular
' as a teacher. Her patrons and pupils
love her and rejoice at the prospect of a
good'time for her at the Institute.
A:v':^^igoi<5ML 08 to know" that quite a
number of our trustees are preparing to
attend the Institute. One gentleman
v proposes to take, his whole family. He
f'* wantsi to get the good of it himself and
: ?ants :hia family to get it, too. That's
-^b right kind of material?where it is
jfcttnble, lot the trustees attend..
It was out pleasure to attend the clos?
ing exercises of the Townville and
;:-:-Honea Hath Schools. Mesam ?ussell
? iiri^Watiiiis havi doiie a fine year's
l". ftork. Barring the destructive work of j
? and its consequent - diseases,
a prosperous yearV They
jb?ihi attend'the :Ihstit?tet 'aid'will
5 ^ibici t? their work better prepared
for it,- .,. ... 'a,- ,_ .
Oor waders may think that the Teach ?
ers'^ Column is almost filled this week
with talk about the Institute. We are
determined that the readers of this issue
I shall not plead ignorance of the where
' about* <o? the. Institute nor ofits aims
Shat teacher who .fails to
?up at Williamston about July 11th
fcripple himself, or prevent the
. mending and healing of his already
crapkeij iofnta. .-? :
"r^JBMk'tthis carefully: You are expected
i attend the rlhstiiutc. You; yes, you.
u are.expected to be there because it
b' ? 'iofftMibi^d -jfot" you. You are ex
.Wp^ied. to W there) because you owe it to
your profession. You are expected to be
there, because you owe it to your patrons,
'?'f?t?&titn&lng,' they may see through I
other glasses and object to your going.
v.;You"are.'expected to be there because
d,uty^?ays;;go I And when duty says go,
*' :&*^^%e*M:4o obey.
Mipy of our teachers are now. enjoy?
ing vacation. They have worked faith
fully ibroDgh tbo Session and now pro
^2Wf?;|d- take, it easy. They propose to
: rest up for; the Institute work at Will
JansstoB jn July, Then they propose to
fit^'ej^lves for the work of the next
:kesaio'n/. He -who goes to Williamston
?$h$pJy' for 'he'fun he hopes to have
. .would betterstay at home, he will be out
. of place ; but he who goes for , this sole
purpose ol improving himself will do
.'weU and be just where he ought to be.
^^f?y^-of^the teachers of this County
. do not live near enough to Williamston
r- tareach" that place in time for the morn?
ing ^exercises. Do let us beg that as
many as can do so will go to Williamston
Saturday. Let us have a good turnout
Monday Tnornjng-^a goodly number of ]
Anderson County teachers. There will
bermany'teachers"from other counties
there at the first tap of the bell?let us
Eot be-ni tha minority. It would be bad
':' forGreenville teachers to outnumber us
? Let os come up
like men aud show that wo can teach
children to.be prompt by being prompt
ourselves. If you find you can't get
-there until Monday afternoon, you better
gd Saturday. Don't miss a single day,
- if you can possibly be on hand.
-'?-..-? :. ~-:'--r**??j? ?
Mr. W? E. Breazeale, who has had
charger of the school at Belton, has re~|
^signed his positiohtheru with a view to
going next iieasion to the University of j
Yligin?;wh a course in
? ?Civil. Engineering: While we deeply re
:. gret t? lose Mr. Breazeale, we can but
admire his course. He says he does not
?propose to make teaching his life work
r. and.thinks it. would be unjust and un?
kind, to the people of Belton to remain
-thereany longer. His tastes are for the
field and the surveyor's instruments.
He, has given entire satisfaction as a
teacher, but thinks it his duty to give
place to some one else who is making
tsachiug his profession. We trust the
g#od?people; of Belton may succeed in
. getting??'_teacher wtto will give as com?
plete satisfaction aa Mr. Breazeale has
*';'gl*e^V:;i'Belton.'i8'ready to show her ap?
preciation and give her support to the
:.man who'shows himself a teacher in the
true sense, but will not support one who
i? not thoroughly alive to the grand poa
aibilitles of his calling. Mr. Breazeale
will quit teaching but will be at the In
? stitute. . .. . ."? . _ ?
The citizens of Williamston are deter?
mined^ ;do all they can to help the
officers-make the approaching Institute a
success/: One of the thoughtful ones
suggests to us that it might be well to
: .*pp:oiht two.committes, ope to aid teach
.: ereiu..finding;boarding places, and an
} other-to ^take whatever: steps they may
deem advisable to make the place attract?
ive and. tbe visit of tbe members of the
Institute pleasant. We are grateful for
'~ti.e-suggestion and the thoughtfulness
tha. prompted ic, and take pleasure in
"vrequesting the following named persons
rto 8*rye us in the way suggested:
^- (^mimitfee on. arrangements for mak
vij^tbiplace attractive and the sojourn
.of the^^teachers . pleasant?Dr. B. F.
? B^ra;.;Jqhn M. Lander, Austin W.
Clement, Miss Mat tie Brown and Miss
;:dy%iM8tbews. .
. Comniittee on boarding places?T. M.
. M?bon;|5^ T. Lander, G. W. Sullivan,
;Mia3 Lila Prince and-Mi33 Lona Epting.
who want arrangements made
%$f?wpd&f?m'e?-. to write to: any
jf ^Q^isj^^ named C?mmi'tee. We
Sflwfef?h^ra^iU.n'oY.put off j
e r natit they go to Williamston.
l;be exceedingly unpleasant for
rffJWfiJ5ei|ed to run all .over town
l$Mt?. to board. Neglect thi8
^^*0* Way/regret it. Don't
fcMWtfiftin?titute s now. thrown
the State,'sod that, whether you
'?ffi'vof; ^each^rS; from ?- all; oVer the
ite'^ill: be .there; This committee is
%ibt?iT6r ybur special benefit now :
?I^jf you like.
Y&CO.
SAH JONES.
The Apostle of Prohibition Opens the
Tennessee Campaign.
From the Chattanooga Times, June 2nd.
Probably the largest crowd, the ladies
being in the majority, ever assembled
in Chattanooga, met last night at the
opera house to hear Sam Jones open the
' prohibition campaign in this State.
Every available seat in the entire im
meose auditorium was taken, and the
i **)! ** ?
aisles^ halls,, corridors, foyers, and even
the stage was crowded; and hundreds
were turned away unable to get in.
At 8 o'clock promptly a chpir com
posed of E. P. Murphy, Lon Warner,
Geo. H. Curtis and Prof. Steen rendered
the song "That is Prohibition," after
which Prof. Lewis, of the University, en
gaged in an earnest prayer.
E. P. Murphy then rendered with
wonderful effect and force in an inimita
blerich voice, . "Marching Down to the
River," after which Kev. G. C. Rankio,
after making one or two announcements,
introduced the speaker of the evening,
the famous
;. sAir joses.
Mr. Jones advanced to the edge of the
stage and said, after hesitating a few mo
mentis:
"You all know that it is my rule when
I'm going to talk, only one can talk at a
time. Now you folks over there at the
door, ff you ain't going to quit talking
get out of Here, right now so that people
who want to hear Won't be disturbed.
. "My friends. I am glad to be with you
to-night at the opening of the campaign
for prohibition in the grand old State of
Tennessee. I remember an occasion like
this in Atlanta. I left a revival in pro
gress at Birmingham to go to Atlanta to
open'the'prohibition campaign in that
city, at'the opera house, too, and. it was
crowded like this house is to-night."
At this poict the talking at the en
trance broke out again, and the speaker
spoke out loudly: "We need a police?
man there at the back of the house. Will
one of you men back there
KNOCK THAT FELLOW'S TEETH OUT
who is talking; I'll pa; your fine. What
ails you, anyhow? Are you drunk or
are you a foot ? Is that talking down
stairs, or is it some fool up stairs ?"
- These remarks seemed to have a sooth
ing effect, and after the laughter and
applause subsided the speaker proceeded.
"I believe I am honoring God in this
prohibition work. I don't care for poli
tics?if its politics against prohibition, I
am for prohibition every time. God is
calling to men to come out and help in
this fight, and when God says whoal
you'd better stop, ole boss, I tell you. I
am following my calling when I am
preaching prohibition,
"No, my friends, the issue is not so
much the tariff, the interstate law, reve
nue, etc., but it is this grand issue that
brings us together to night, the issue of
whether we shall protect society or
whether we shall sustain the saloons and
destroy society. It. is, my friends, a
question of the survival of the fittest.
Now, if it is better, to sustain the saloons
and let society go to wreck, let's abandon
this , cause ; let us have free whisky at
every point and dippers hung on every
bough, and gorge and gorge ourselves
until we puke up some of our meanness.
But if we are to maintain society we
must let the saloons go and not rest until
they are exterminated root and branch.
DIFFERENT VIEW POINTS.
On this question of prohibition in Ten
nesae'e, of course every man has his views
and they are formed from different
points. You will find men's vjewa
rooted either in their bands, tbeir hearts
or their pockets. I find some men who
want whisky, some who want high license
and some who want prohibition. For
my part I want either free liquor or pro
hibition. If it is a good thing let's have
it free; if it is a bad thing, in the name
of God's let's kill it forever from the face
of the earth. High license is no
friend to prohibition; it simply
dignifies the calling, puts it into costlier
places and drives out the little fellows so
that the big ones can make all the money.
You might as well talk about putting a
high license on the cholera, yellow fever,
smallpox or any other curse. And I say
if its a good thing let's turn it loose; but
if it is not good let's not gild it aud con?
fine it to fine rooms, but let's do away
with it altogether. '
I do not think it is necessary before
this intelligent audience to argue as to
whether it is good or not. There is not
a saloon man who, if he would tell the
truth, would not admit thp.t it was bad,
but they won't admit it, because their
opinion comes from their pocket-books.
The papers reported that I said I would
give any man $500 who would pledge
himself that he never expected to do
anything to save his soul.' I didn't say
it, but one fellow came to me and said
he was willing to sign that pledge. Now
if one man is willing to sell his own soul
for $500, it is strange that others in the
saloon business are willing to do the
same, for tbey know they can never go
to heaven while they sell this damnable
stuff.
Money is a great thing. But did you
ever bear of a dying man endowing a
saloon? Did ever a dying man say:
"Here, my son, take this money and run
a saloon for the protection of society and
for the good of your fellow men ?"
Never. * Did you ever hear a man who
had any. respect for himself speaking
good of saloons?what a vast amount of j
good they were doing in the community ?
Not mucb.
LET PROHIBITIONI8TS TAKE A. STAND.
You have 67 saloons in Chattanooga, I
am told. You have, say 40,000 people?
you claim all the way from that number
to a. million, I hear?shall we 40,000
people bow down and scrape to these 67
men who sell liquid death just to let
them make money, while tbey make
wasted lives, fatherless homes and penni?
less paupers for us ? Shall we bow down
and knuckle to these men who curse and
villify everybody who dares to say any?
thing about their nefarious traffic. You
see by talking against whisky we injure
their business?they are mercenary men.
There is another class of meu, some of |
them church members too, and they are
the meanest hypocrites who curse God's
church, who Bay that, prohibition will
cause the value of propety to shrink and
increase taxation. It would be a thou?
sand times better, my friends, to pay a
[ little more tax and have the country
! saved and you who' want to see yonr
country prosper go to work and eradicate
this great evil from your midst. You
j will more than save enough in honest
lives and redeemed in hopes to pay you
for any little increase iii taxation.
I'll tell you there isn't a bar-keeper in
town but whose support .is contributed
to by every one of you. You stand on a
matter of taxes.; You Bay to the bar?
keeper; all right you go ahead, and damn
the country all you please. All we want
is a fair divide; you help us pay our
taxes. Give us a dividend at the end of
the year and we wont say a word. Every
voter in this town is a partner in these
saloons and receives his annual profits
from them. Every street to these
churches is paved by blood money band?
ed over the counter of these death and
damnation dealing saloons.
And then they say it will hurt your
town. I am tired of that cant expressed
in the old saying, "take the calf away
and the cow will go dry." Jim Harrison,
in out town, said his father had a cow
that give milk for fouf teen years and she
never had a calf and her mother never
had a calf; so that's not so. One of
these lies is about as reasonable as the
other.
The marshall of my town put Up two
things as candidateit and met one hun?
dred and fifty citiasns of the town and
asked each one of them who . he had
rather vote for for a responsible place; a
drunken man or a hog, and they all said
the hog. The same one hundred and
fifty men said they had rather have a hog
in their parlors than a drunken man, and
so would you.
What do these saloons do but make
drunkards, and what is a drunkard good
for?
- [A voice from the circle cried : "For
the Salvation Army."]
"I don't know whether the brother
meant for the drunkard to go to the Sal?
vation Army to be worked on, but any*
way I say
GOD BLESS THE SALVATION ARMY.
Everywhere I go I say hurrah for the
Salvation Army. You can't afford to
fight the Salvation Army; you Metho?
dist preachers can't, because 25 years ago
you were nothing but a Salvation Army,
without money enough to buy a fife and
drum. j
But to go on, do drunkards make any?
thing good ? Do they make good engin?
eers, good clerks, good anything ? No.
Did you ever think of what it costs to
make a drunkard ? Sam Small said it
cost more than necessary to paint the
capitol at Washington ; it cost him $10,
000, and all he could borrow and beg,
and then he only got his a pale pink, and
be didn't know what it would cost to
paint it a blood red.
LET US REASON TOGETHER.
Let us talk to men, my friends, accord?
ing to their views. If a man's heart is
wrong, lets talk to him of the glories of
the cross and the everlasting truth of
religion; if his pocket is at stake, lets
convince him that it is better to let-all
the money in the world go, tban to burn
and cause others to burn forever in per-'
dition.
One fault with us is that we do not re?
cognize these saloon men as our brother
men. They are our brothers. Now,
suppose, we were all one family and we
were dividing up the trades, etc., among
us so that the society of brothers must
prosper. One is a machinist, one a far?
mer, another a merchant, and so on, and
here, Tom, you must open a saloon so
that we may prosper. Would we do
that? Would we open Up a saloon to
deetroy all the others ? Must we debauch
a large number of our brethren in order
that one or two may prosper ? No; 'God
forbid!
We might as well say that we would
establish brothels and gambling houses
for the prosperity and happiness of our
brothers and sisters 1
You are building Chattanooga up.
Does liquor enter into any of the build?
ing material ? What part of the house
is built out of whisky? Is there any
machinery made out of svhiaky or what
part does whisky play in running your
machinery? Ah, but they say whisky
makes your property grow in value.
Suppose 1 put a saloon next to your cor?
ner over there on the hill. You will say
I'd rather than $500 you'd take it fi' ??her
away. If the distance it is from your
property has anything to do with its val?
ue, let's put them all in the middle of the
Atlantic.
Ah, my friends you folks are going to
have a fight here in Tennessee, The
brewers of Baltimore and elsewhere are
voting money to defeat you in the fight.
Now you who want to see the country
saved, who want to see your country
prosper, put your shoulders to the wheel
and beat the great evil.
I'll tell you Floyd county Georgia is
going to vote whisky out of Borne.
Them fellows down in Borne have
been emptying their whisky down on us
in Cartersville, and you fellows in Chat?
tanooga are doing the same thing, and I
want to knit legs on your demijons and
walk then out of Tennessee. I've a per?
sonal motive in this, thing. I want you
to quit pouring your damnable slush down
on us.
Another person says prohibition don't
prohibit. Let's see. Now, there's many
a fellow in Chattanooga who's hard op;
now if there's a man in this audience
who believes this way, I'll givp you $50 a
drink for every drink you boy in Car
tersville if you'll swear you bought it
there and who you bought it from. Car ?
tersville kept it out by putting men in
the chain-gang, etc., every time they sold
a drink of whisky. All you've got to do
is to put them through and land them in
the penitentiary; they will get mighty
tired and stop it.
. IN ATLANTA.
But they say it don't prohibit in At?
lanta. You are not going.to make the
mistake Atlanta did; you are not going
to have any wine room clause, and I tell
you the Georgia legislature is going to
fix that wine room business, and I'll ven?
ture the assertion that there will never
be another contest in Atlanta. I think
tho whisky men are "tired" in that city.
Out of 187 counties in Georgia 124 are
AJtDEHSONJSkC., 1
prohibition, and Georgia is one of the
happiest States in the South to-day. If
Tennessee will only prohibit for twenty
four months, never will whisky be sold
in her border again.
One barkeeper in Borne stood on the
street and said: "Taint prohibition, its
confiscation." . Ten years ago he came to
Borne not worth $250, and now after sell?
ing his infamous drags there for ten
yeats he is worth $80,000, and noff he
talks about confiscation after robbing the
people of Borne out of $80,000.
I say that whisky; has had sway in
Tennessee long enough ? let us try it
awhile and if we don't have a little gov?
ernment and run things better then I
will give it up and let the whisky men
have it forever after.
"puppies" on the fence.
My friends, it is every man's duty to
take sides in this fight. I have more re?
gard for a man who is square out for
wkisky than for one of those little pup?
pies wbo sets on the fence and don't
know where he is going to fall, or if he
knows when he ought to go, is afraid.
I would call such a man a dog, but he's
too small.
as to newspapers.
It is the duty of every minister of the
gospel to take sides on this question ; it
it the duty of the religious papers to take
sides j it iB the duty of the ?? I like
to said the secular papers, but I'll have
to take it back, I guess. Those secular
papers are like the fellow on the fence.
They are in the lane between two grassy
plots, prohibition on one side and whisky
on the other, and all tbey get is the pick?
ings thrown to tbem from both sides, and
that's what they live on. It's grass, my
friends, grass, grass for the editorial ox.
I believe that it is' the duty of every
newspaper to take a stand one way or the
other. God Almighty give us men in
the editorial chair wbo have honest con?
victions on this subject and who are not
afraid to express tbem! But they are
all afraid that tbey won't get any more
of the grass. I say to you, prohibitionists,
stand by the paper that stands by you.
The newspapers of this town have said
a heap of things about me, good, bad and
indifferent. They have told the truth as
well as lies on mo, and I tbank them for
both. I make no- war on newspapers and
don't care whether they make war on me
or not.
A little weazen editor up here in Vir?
ginia got onto me, but what I thought
about him was that when a little feller
gets a handful of type, a bottle of ink
and a jug of whisky and jumps on me, it
don't amount to much. I've been swal?
lowed at by whales, nibbled at by min?
nows, but God deliver me from ants.
Give us men of convictions who
will take a bold stand against this dam?
nable evilgive us men for or against.
Some of our preachers say, "I'm afraid
to talk prohibition for fear it will offend
some of my congregation." I despise
one of these lean, finely dressed preach?
ers who perfume themselves witb laven?
der and who are too pious to take a
stand for the right. There are some
I preachers wbo talk for liquor and if
there is a man who comes to hell that
the devil will bridle and uaddle and gal?
lop all over perdition it will be one of
these beer drinking, whisky selling
preachers.
take your choice.
Oh, my brethren, take the right side
in this fight. Wbo are on the side of
the saloons? There are a few clever
men, but they are in wretched company.
On the side of prohibition are our wive3,
our sisters, all that is good and pure, and
the preservation of society.
I don't like the crowd on the other
side. You will find as supporters of the
barrooms, wife beaters, murderers,
thieves, thugs, gamblers, all the vice and
crime in the calendar. I can't go with
that crowd ; I know, too, when I look at
the two sides that I am on God'a side.
The Art of War.
The command of a large army tasks
the resources of the greatest mind. It is
one of the highest of human achiev
ments, and by common consent the first
rank of fame is accorded to the great gen?
erals. To move an army and to feed
on the march requires a higher order
of generalship than to fight it. Thirty
hours without supplies would reduce the
best army to a helpless mass of disorgan?
ized humanity. Food for the men and for?
age for the animals must not only be
provided, but jtfM|he at the precise spot
when wiy^dM Jpeon, the great?raas
ter 2 war, bad a scorjjgf
mar? Bf whom coul?* fighoL
greatb^l V&P of wbom
could leadV
army on the
much as an enormous ss^ent, ~st"
out mile after mile, and moving, alert
and watchful, with steady and irresisti?
ble force. Le^danger threaten "and it
hastily coils itself together and prepares
to avert orjJfigtt^gme the^danger.
Shrunk to afll dimen?
sions, it shojH Jfcjy for
attack or deffl SK^rKgwBPrpast,
the great maas unfolds its coils again and
stretches out its huge proportions in pro?
gressive movement. The brain of this
mighty animal, thes^MMoe mind that
controls its ever^l general
in chief.
al, thes^Mwne mind t
rerwjUHH^L gem
nate of hlsMornlM^Wc
A Boy's Estimate of his BiWWr'Srnork.
"My mother gets me up, builds the
fire, gets my breakfast and sendB me off,"
said a bright youth. .^
"What then," said the reporter.
"Then she gets my fatberllp, and gets
bis breakfast and sends him off, then
gets the other children their breakfast
and sends them to school; and then she
and the baby have their breakfast."
"How old is the baby ?"
"Oh, she is 'most two, but she can
walk and talk as well as any of us."
"Are you well paid ?"
"I get two dollars a week, father gets
two dollars a d0Q0$
"How much does your mother get?"
With a bewildered look the boy said:
"Mother! Why, she don't work for any?
body."
"I thought you said she worked for all
of you."
"O, yes, for nil of us she does; but
there aint no mouoy la it."?American
Farmer.
:huksdat moknii
ABOUT DIET B?AflS.
The Evil and Remedy?The Economy of
Having Good Boads.
From the Nation.
About this time of year Americans
begin to give an amount of attention to
roads and road-making which is sadly
wanting during the rest of It. There is
probably no people in the world which
has made such progress in the arts of
civilized life generally that seems to care
so little for what a good many social
philosophers put among the very fore?
most of them, the art of road-making.
In fact, some philosophers have pro?
nounced the history of roads the history
of civilization. Nothing distinguishes a
civilized country from a barbarous one
so markedly as the- difference between
the means of communication between one
locality and another. As a general rule,
oue'knows that a people is rising in the
social scale by seeing its roads improve ;
one knows that it is declining by seeing
its roads go out of repair. Nothing
marked so vividly the great plunge into
barbarism which Europe took after the
fall of the Boman empire as the disap?
pearance of the superb lines of commu?
nication which led from the forum
straight as an afrotf to every corner of
the Boman world. Nothing too, tells the
tale of Chinese decadence so distinctly
as the ruin which has overtaken the great
roads and canals which at ah earlier
period connected the Capital with the
provinces. When an American gees to
Europe for the first time, nothing seems
I odder than the superiority of the Europe
j an roads in countries which can make
no pretence of equaling the United
States in othei marks of material pro?
gress. We are not a declining people ;
I on the contrary we are the most growing
people in the world. We are not' among
-the poor nations of the globe; on the
contrary we are probably the very richest.
We are not indifferent to material im?
provement ; on the contrary the most fre?
quent charge made against us is that we
give too much attention to it, and yet we
are worse off by far, in the matter of
roads than any other highly civilized
community.
The original reason of the American
indifference about roads was probably the
rapidity with which the early settlers
scattered themselves in small communi?
ties over wide areas. The fewer people
there are to the square mile of inhabited
territory, of course the costlier roads
become,* and when population is very
much dispersed, as in frontier settlements,
people cease to thiokof good roads as a
luxury within their reach, and devote
themselves simply to the task of keeping
them passable. This tendency to neglect
the art of road-making would probably
have disappeared early in this century if j
the railroads had not come in as the
great lines of communication, thrown the
post roads and military roads out of use,
and relegated all roads but railroads to
the condition of cross roads or byways.
The railroads not only did this, but they
dispersed the settlers over still wider
areas than ever, and thus made the pros?
pect of running a good highway past
every man's door seem hopeless. The
consequence has been that the early
colonial or frontier state of mind?in
which a road was considered good enough
if it was simply practicable to wheeled
vehicles (that is, if there were no holes
or rocks in it sufficiently formidable to
upset a carriage), and anything better
than this an unattainable luxury?has
almost settled into a national tradition.
One has only to go a few miles out of
any of our large cities to find the roads
in every direction being repaired in the
exact manner in which they were re?
paired by the struggling colonists between
1680 and 1700?that is, nothing is at?
tempted beyond filling up the holes with
any material that is at hand, and afford?
ing facilities for the water to run off.
The material that is at band is, of course,
the mud or compost out of the adjacent
ditch. This is shovelled up with the
utmost gravity and deposited all along
the center, filling up the cavities and
hiding from view the projecting rocks.
Io districts in which gravel or strong clay
is obtained in this way, the result is often
satisfactory enough. But as a general
rule the contents of the ditch are simply
mud or decayed vegetable matter, fit
only for manure. Spread over the road
as a plaster, it rapidly becomes dust and
is swept away by the wind, or else be?
comes mud and is washed back again
into the ditch, or down into the hollows,
in which in wet weather it forms a kind
of quagmire, through which horses toil
wearily. The one advance we have made
in this curious process over the early
fcgptonists is the invention of the large
Firon scoop or shovel, worked by oxen or
horses, au a substitute for the manual
labor of ..ie olden days. A foreigner,
seeing it at work for the first lime, is
always disposed to believe that the road
is being prepared for a crop of some
kind, and as a matter of fact we have
ourselves seen many a mile of country
road in' which after the spring repairs,
potatoes or corn would have grown very
luxuriantly.
Of course there are signs of progress
out of this primitive condition in the
more densely settled districts on the
eastern coast and in the neighborhood of
the large cities. The Park roads, with
which people have been made familiar
during the past thirty years, have shown
those who have never been abroad what
a good road is, and have thus raised the
standard of road-making as the Vienna
bakery raised the standard of bread
making all over the country after the
Philadelphia exposition in 1877. But
most rural districts suffer greatly from
not having a standard at all. Some of
those who tax themselves most freely
suffer most, because the plentiful supply
of money not only does not improve the
roads, but breeds a political ring, who
treat it as "boodle." The reason they
Buffer is that, as they have no standard of
goodnesB in roads, and do not make
specific requirements as to what shall be
done to keep the roads in order, it is
never possible to bring trustees, or
select men, or roadmasters to a proper
account. They always escape if they can
show they have put on the annual spring
plaster; and when it is washed away, as
it is sure to be a little later, they throw
the blame on the freshets; and the
W, JUNE 23,1887
simple dtixen, not knowing what to say
' in answef to them, says nothing. We
have seen the pfastcf &pp\kA Id project?
ing rocks in a steep declivity iff the
middle of a great highway within twenty
miles of New York, year after year,
without a word of remonstrance from
anybody, and without any demand for
the use of the sledge hammer for the
safety of horses and carriages. The
waste of all this, through the wear and
tear of animals', vehicles and harness, is
' of course immense. As it is dot * easy to
j calculate it, it makes but little impres
: sion on the popular mind, but it probably
j far surpasses the cost of thorough repair
j or macadamization. Until a standard
has been set up, increased votes of money
for road making will in populous dis?
tricts simply result in the multiplication
of the people who live by "politics,"
There is little doubt, too, that not only
was the light wagon, for which America
is now famous, produced by the badness
of our roads, but it now helps to keep
the roads bad by diminishing, in the
public eye, the inconvenience of them,
j The wagon in which Americans delight,
j and which no other nation has yet been
able to imitate, really gets over bad roads
I almost as easily as a saddle or pack
I horse. We have seen it jump a fence
behind a runaway with a Certain grace
and dexterity. But bad roads tell on it
rapidly also though not perhaps as rapid*
ly as on heavier vehicles. It is hardly
an exaggeration to say that a light wagon
would last one-third longer on an Eng?
lish or Swiss road than on Ohrs, and
would be a far greater luxury. Nobody
shows more appreciation of the smooth,
hard park roads than the trotting men,
although they prefer the dirt road to
"speed" on; and they may be said to be
the only class of the community to
whose needs or wishes attention in the
matter of road making has been paid.
The owners of heavy vehicles have been
left to get along as best they can, al?
though they use roads for business and
not pleasure. In no department of our
material progress., in fact, is there so
much need of reform aa in onr road
making, and above all in our road re?
pairing, whether we look at the matter
from the health or the pleasure point of
view.
The Danger of Drinking Water.
By one of those singular coincidences
which befall ever and anon for the edifi?
cation of humanity, Mr. Waterloo, Mr.
Lederer, and Colonel Sullivan were as?
signed to the same room at the Mammoth
Cave hotel last week. The fact that
three newspaper men were put into one
room was not particularly surprising, but
it did seem remarkable that the hotel
clerk should pick out as chums the very
three members of the excursion party
who were afflicted with ocnlar disturb?
ances. Colonel Sullivan has an impaired
vision, and Mr. Waterloo and Mr. Lede?
rer happen to possess but two eyes be?
tween them.
About nine o'clock last Saturday night
Colonel Sullivan began to yawn and to
feel uncommon sleepy. It was bis hour
of retiring; all well regulated evening
newspaper men go to bed at nine o'clock
or thereabout. So Colonel Sullivan
poked off up stairs, robed himself in his
elegantly frilled night shirt, said his
prayers and tumbled into his cot. In
less than ten minutes a regular succession
of stentorian harmonies in B flat and
two four times bespoke the profundity of
the Colonel's slumbers.
Mr. Waterloo and Mr. Lederer did not
put in an appearance until a much later
hour?we will not specify the hour, for
far be it from us to bear witness against
fellow journalists whom we esteem and
admire. Suffice it to say that when they
did seek their beds they were sore and
weary; they needed repose and needed
it badly. And when Morpheus once
brooded over that chamber yon might
have thought that a steam calliope bad
been set a going therein.
About 3 o'clock in the morning, how?
ever, Messrs. Waterloo and Lederer were
aroused from deep Blumbers by a dolo
rioua howling and by the staccato patter
of bare feet upon the chamber floor.
They sat up in their beds and glared
wildlike about them. Colonel Sullivan
was prancing up and down the floor, and
he was wailing like a bereaved woman.
"I've Bwallowed two cockroaches," |
cried Colonel Sullivan. "I felt them go
down my throat 1 Oh, oh, oh 1"
"Come, now," said Mr. Lederer, sooth?
ingly, "you must be mistaken, old fel?
low ; you've been dreaming."
"No, I haven't been dreaming," insist?
ed Colonel Sullivan. "I woke up and
drank that glass of water on the table,
and I felt the two cockroaches go down
my throat?I oan feel 'em now. Oh 1"
Mr. Lederer comprehended the situa?
tion in a moment. Mr. Lederer is too
soft-hearted a man to keep a friend in
suspense.
"Those weren't cockroaches," said Mr.
Lederer; "those weni glass eyes?Water?
loo's and mine. We put 'em in that
glass of water before we went to bed."
And then, in an outburst of magnanimi?
ty, inspired by Colonel Sullivan's inten?
sified groaning, Mr. Lederer added:
"You needn't mind it, old boy, for we've
got duplicates in our valises."
This happened a week ago, and ever
Bince then a clinking sound (as of two
glass bodies coming together) has accom?
panied Colonel Sullivan wherever be
' went. Dr. Kiernan says that glass eyes
' are not digestible. The inference is that
these bogus orbs will remain in Colonel
Sullivan's system through all futurity.?
Chicago Journal.
Just a Wheat Patch.
Friday and Saturday Hon. James M.
Smith harvested one of his wheat "patch?
es." It contained only 500 acres, and
from it he expects to thrash 6,000 bushels
of grain, or an average of twelve bushels
per acre. Up to the time he began to
harvest, the field had cost Mr. Smith
$2,700 to plant and cultivate it, and he
estimates that by the time he has bar
vested, threshed and housed the grain it
will have cost him about $8,500. At one
dollar a bushel his profits on this patch
will be a snug sum itself.?Ogleihorpe,
Qa., Echo.
? When a man lies the devil l&ughp.
THE GREAT KENTUCKY tiS??;
An Outlaw who wax Mado a Judge?Latest
Acts In the Tragedy.
. Mm ltork World.
LEXiKuf?iij ?Hr., Juue 10.?Oralg
Tolliver, Rowan county, J^y.y haa been a
hunted desperado and murderer /of years
and years. Warrants have been served
against him, indictments found against
him. Posses have searched for him, and
a whole company of soldiers went after
him and proclaimed martial law in all of
Rowan county. But they did not get
their rttar). Cou fii ngy reckless, dare devil,
he fought them from flmbnsb, hid away
in the mountain fastnesses when the
country grew too hoi for him, and when
matters quieted down again be came
forth cool and unharmed and went at his
old trict-a. Of course a feud was at the
bottom of it. John Martin' silled Bill
Tolliver, Craig's bfdther, ?u6f so, of
course, the natural result was that the
Tolliver family aud their friends set out
to kill the surviving members of the
Martin family and their friends. Craig
shot a few men, and the whole county
took sides,
Troops were ordered to Morehead, the
county seat of Rowan county, to quell the
disturbances that had been caused there
by two factions?one under the leadership
of Craig Tolliver, and the other marshall?
ed by Cook Humphries, who was looked
upon as being every bit as dangerous as
Toliver, and possessing even more cour?
age. After a long tfip in the mountains
by the State Guard, peace was finally
restored by an armistice on the part of
the Commonwealth - whose attorney
agreed! to withdraw prosecution on condi?
tion that the two leaders should leave the
State. The principals readily agreed to
this, and it was thought that the disorders
which bad brought the State into such
bad repute bad come to an end and the
troops were ordered withdrawn. Scarce?
ly had peace been restored when infor?
mation was received that Tolliver was
back at his old bddnfS.
But be came back in a new character.
Tired of being hunted like a dog, he con
ceived the brilliant idea of hunting
instead of being hunted. He thought the
matter over in his own rude way and
figured things out about like this: The
only thing he had ever been forced to
fear was that intangible something men
called the law. What waa the law ? he
asked. The judge on the bench was the
only personal exponent of it that he knew.
So his mind was made up. He would
become the law. He would make him?
self judge. His friends would vote for
him. Where was the man brave enough
to ride up to the polls and deposit a bal?
lot against him 7
And so Craig Tolliver, murderer and
desperado, a criminal hiding from justice
was selected a judge of Bowan county.
No further need bad he to fiee from
justice. He was justice himself now.
The man whose outbreaks had brought
shame and disgrace to the fair soil of that
section had turned the tables, and with a
high band prepared to turn^ prosecutor
instead of being prosecuted. It was a
dazzling stroke of genius.
The great opportunity of his life was
right at hand, and be prepared to pay off
old scores, and pay them off in the name
of the law. There are many indictments
against Tolliver for serious crimes; yet
so terrified are the people that tbey allow
a criminal to hold office and exercise the
rights of that office. Since the election
of Tolliver to the office of police judge
three good citizens have been compelled
to flee from Morehead. Their lives, their
fortunes, their homes, sons, daughters
and wives were in danger. In the reports
of the elections Tolliver received 20 votes,
thereby electing him. People who were
against him were afraid to go to the polls,
and a man who can not sign bis name
legibly is elected to an office which re?
quires knowledge of the law, equity of
judgment and justice in all things.
Immediately after taking possession of
his office be began the persecution of bis
enemies. Yesterday afternoon be issued
warrants for the arrest of William Logan,
twenty four years old, and his brother
John, eighteen, charged with kuklux
plans. Warrants were placed in the
hands of Marshal Mannin to serve.
About 3 o'clock Mannin, Tolliver and a
posse went to the Logan house. On
arrival at the Logan homestead Marshal
Mannin asked if the boys were at home.
The housekeeper answered no, but Man?
nin, knowing to the contrary, forced his
way into the house and upstairs.
Immediately the Logan boys, who
were secreted upstairs, opened fire upon
Mannin, riddling him with slugs from
shot guns and killing him instantly.
The two boys then attempted to make
their escape by getting out by the back
way of the house, but the two men who
accompanied Mannin were stationed in
the rear, and as soon as the two boys
made their appearance the posse opened
fire upon them. When the smoke clear?
ed away it was seen that the Logan boys
lay dead?killed at the first shot. The
two men who formed the posse returned
to Morehead, gave themselves up and
gave the facts as stated. The Logan boys
were buried this afternoon at the old
burying grounds about five miles north
of the town of Morehead.
Dr. H. S. Logan, the father of the two
dead boys, is confined in the Lexington
jail for safe keeping on a charge of con?
spiring to kill Taylor Young and Judge
A. C. Cole, of the circuit court of Bowan
county. Dr. Logan, when seen, said
that the object was to arrest the boys so
that they could be placed in tbe bands of
Craig Tolliver, who is police judge, so
that Tolliver could wreak bis revenge on
them. Howard Logan, an uncle of these
boys, was one of the parties who was
forced to flee from Morehead a few days
ago and seek a place of safety. That
whole section of tbe State is wild over the
affair, and the end is not yet.
Craig Tolliver is about fifty-five years
old, and has been a desperate character
for thirty years. He revels in bloodshed.
In 1884, at tbe August election, the
Martin-Tolliver feud was started, and
since that time more than a dozen men
have been killed in encounters between
these factions. At tbe first breaking out
of the feud John Martin killed Bill Tol?
liver, a brother of Craig, in a fight.
Martin was placed in the Flemrogaburg
volxjm:
jail, from which he waa taken by. Bill
I Bowling and otti era on a forged writ of
habeas forpu?/ and sliot dead while on
the cars en rotfts to Morehead. The
warfare haB been carried4 oil Openly or in
ambush ever since that time.
"Wet and Dry" in Baleigh.
[? ?AiiiGit, June 14.?Last June Ral?
eigh tofee? for the first time on the
question of prohibition, and declared in
its favor by 58 majority. Last week
another election on the sarne question
was held, and the Prohibitionists were
again victorious by 31 majority. The
law under which the election was held
provided against the sale of spirituous
liquors, but did not include beer or wine.
The Legislature, at its last session,
passed an Act making it unlawful to sell
spirituous, vinous or malt liquors; but
this Act does not go into effect until July
I 1 next, so that the late election was held
under the old law.
Application Was made last week to the
county commissioners by a man in this
city for a license to sell beer and wine in
Baleigh. After a long discussion this
was granted, although the city ordinance
forbids the issue of a license until the
board of aldermen has permitted its
issue. As soon as the license was
obtained the sa'e of beer began and there
was a great sensation, which instantly
divided the people into wet and dry fac?
tions, and set them bitterly against each
other. The beer seller was arrested and
taken before the mayor. He was held to
appear at the Superior Court. He tried
to take revenge on the Prohibitionists by
bringing suit against a prominent mem*
ber of that party for $10,000 damages for
malicious prosecution. This only in?
creased the anger of the Prohibitionists
and on Saturday the beer seller was again
arrested on the same charge. He refused
to give bail and the mayor sent him to
the guardhouse. He applied for habeas
corpus and the writ was issued and made
returnable before the Supreme Court
yesterday afternoon, and it was then
argued at great length.
It was hoped that the Court would
decide one way or another as to whether
beer and wine were or were not spiritu?
ous liquors, but tbo Court did not do
so. This morning the Court, through
Chief Justice Smith, rendered a
decision that the case must go to the
Superior Court and come up regularly.
The question cannot be settled before
next autumn, It is a matter which con?
cerns over twenty cities and towns in
this State, and which attracts more atten?
tion than anything in many months.
The beer seller was ordered, to suspend
business until the case is settled.
Farmer Gillette's Hobby.
MlDDLETOWN, N. Y., June 13.?Har?
ris Gillette, a well to do old farmer of
Sidney, haa the hobby of strictly govern?
ing all his doings by the phases of the
moon. Interviewed on the subject, be
unfolded his creed as follows:
'T always go by the moon's changes,
because then I know I'm right. I see a
great deal in the papers about how to
choose a cow, but I can tell you a rule
worth all the rest. If a cow Is born when
the horns of the moon point down, then
she will be a good milker, but if born
when the horns point op, then she will
run to nothing but skin and bone. I
always butcher cattle and bogs in the
new of the moon, and then I have a quar?
ter more meat. I always sow and plant
in the new of the moon and have better
crops than my neighbors. I always build
fences when the horns of the moon point
up, and put on the stakes and rides when
the horns point down, then the two pull
together and my fences never fall down.
Our school house, contrary to my advice,
was roofed in the full of the moon, and
it leaks badly, and last winter all the
children bad the measles. I once attend?
ed camp meeting and got converted in
the dark of the moon, but I soon back
elided wonderfully. Since then I got
converted in the light of the moon, and
my religion has stuck to me ever since."
Millions in Danger.
Washington, June 14. ?The count of
cash in the United States treasury, which
is now in progress, has developed the fact
that the vault capacity is entirely inade?
quate for the safe handling of silver.
The silver vault was filled to its utmost
capacity some time ago, and their still
remained about 8,000,000 standard dollars
which, for want of a better place, were
piled in bags in the passageway leading
to the vault. In making the count these
bags had to be removed to an outside
hall, where they now remain, protected
from outside interference by nothing but
a pine board partition. It has to be
guarded at all times by watchmen
employed in the building, who are armed
with revolvers during the day and repeat?
ing rifles during the night. Every pre?
caution has been taken to prevent ite
being tampered with while in its exposed
condition. The count will last five weeks
more and the silver cannot be returned
to tbe vault room until that is concluded,
In the meantime work is being pushed
on the new silver vault authorized by
the last Congress. It will have storage
capacity for 100,000,000 standard dol?
lars, and will probably be ready for use
in September.
? Judge Lyon and the Hon. J. E
Bradley were among the excursionists tc
Washington. While on the trip thej
visited the battleground of Manassas,
They took the Baltimore and Ohio Bail
road from Washington to Vienna, and
surveyed the camping ground at thai
point. Thence they went by Flint Hill
to Fairfax Court House, and then by waj
of Centerville to Manassas Junction. AI
Mitchell's Ford they stood upon the
identical spot where they received tbeii
"baptism of fire." The old breastwork*
are almost intact. Every position conic
easily be identified.?Abbeville Medium
? A number of North Carolina towni
voted on the question of prohibition last
Monday. Baleigh, Cameron and Dnr
ham went "dry," whilst Charlotte
Oxford, Washington, Winston, Golds
boro, Louisburg and- Henderson wem
"wet." At Charlotte, prohibition wai
defeated by 40 majority. Raleigh wenl
"dry" by a majority of 31?
E XXII.- -NO. 50
THE WOffDEBF?L CAYE
Which Famished Nitre for Confederate
I Gunpowder*
Atlanta Constitution.
Rome; Ga., June 14.-Mr. W. G.
I Cooper furnishes to the Detroit Free Press
I an interesting article on a cave in Bar
tow County, in which he says :
"Within a mile or two of Sherman's
route to Atlanta, there is in Bartow
County; Ga., a cavern of considerable
historic interest. We first hear of it in
11835, when a handful of Cherokee In
r dians, who bad incurred the displeasure
I of a band of highwaymen known as 'The
I Pony Club,' found refuge in the cave
I until I hey were rescued by some regula?
tors. In those days the walls and roofs
of the passages were white, and their.,
stalactites rivaled in beauty the icicles
which formed about the mountain cas
I cades; but since the workmen, in getting
out saltpeter for the gunpowder of the'
Confederate army, built great fires of
pitch pine, and filled the cave with
I smoke, those dark passages and gloomy.
I chambers, with their sooty walls, give
I one the impression that he is approach?
ing Vulcan's forge, and the black stalact
I ites in all their fantastic shapes seems to
I be the handiwork of that grim artisan.
Though. these objects do not resemble
j thunderbolts, some of them have been
knocked off and made into bolts no less
destructive. Of late Vulcan seems, to
have abandoned the place to Pluto, who'
made his presence known last year by
I tearing up the door and breaking a pillar.
I in the lowest chamber. There was no
other creature in the cave but a winged
I beast which loved darkness rather than'
I light, and must have been one of Pluto's
little angels.
I "The approach to the entrance is by a
j lonely road between wild hills, whose'.
I aspect is so cheerless, and the sighing of
I-the wind in their thickets so mournful,
j that a man almost believes he is going to
I an awful doom. After going dp the hill
I for a hundred yards, one is suddenly con
I fronted by an opening ten feet square,
I and bad a skull and cross-tones been
I placed above it, he could not look/into
that dark and broadening j.byss with
darker and more infernal passages, with?
out feeling a cold horror at the thought
of exploring Hades.
j "With a good refecting lamp we de
\ scended a rough incline at an angle of
I forty-five degrees, until we were seventy
I five feet below the opening. The rcof
j was not so much inclined, and the mouth
I widened to sixty feet at the bottom, so as
to form a large chamber. Beyond this
I the floor was smooth and the roof only
twelve feet high. At this place the pic
I nicers have often danced, and it is known
as the 'ball room.' From there we pass
I ed through several large rooms, one of
which was nearly 100 feet wide, with a
I roof fifty feet high in one place. The \
I floor was strewn with rock fragments, and
I in passing out we bad to climb, round
rough bowlders. After ascending a steep,
I slippery place for about fifteen feet, we
I were confronted by an immense stalag
I mite in the shape of a cone, eight feet in
I diameter at the base and twelve feet high. ;
I Above it a cluster of stalactites resembled
j a chandelier. On the right and left were
I openings into a small chamber, behind
I the cone. Returning thence we went up
I the main passage at an angle of forty
five degrees and came to a circular group y
of stone icicles six to eight feet long. .
They reminded me of the' illustration- of
the 'Saracen's tent' of Luray cave, and__
one of them by itself formed a horse's
leg with knee and thigh almost perfect.
Passing several pillars and a smaller cone
we descended by steps cut in the rock to
a chamber with vaulted roof and level
floor. Directly over the entrance was a
hole twenty inches in diameter and about
I six feet deep. From this place a very -
low arch twenty feet wide let us into a
j passage connecting with the main en?
trance. Beturning to the big cone we
passed through a large room full of rock
I fragments into a chamber, from which
we ascended by a fifteen-foot ladder to a
small hole large enough to crawl through/
From it we emerged into a Ion# passage
at the end of which daylight appeared.
Fifty yards farther in that direction Was "
the 'Jug,' formed by a stalagmite three .
feet thick and six feet high, with a neck
formed by a pendant from the roof. The
handle had been formed in the same way
and was afterwards broken off by some
explorer. At the foot of the jug was a
small spring of clear, cool water, which
was very refreshing after two hours of
hard climbing. A few yards further we
ascended sixty feet by an incline and
came out of the small entrance. The air
above ground seemed very oppressive,
and we were glad to sit down and eat our
lunch. Afterwards another hour was
spent in exploring a passage on the right
of the main entrance. After following
it for fifty yards we came to a deep pit
with a passage around one side and a
shelving ledge on the left. By climbing,
cautiously around on the ledge we got.
into a chamber walled. in by masses of
stalactites, and overhead a chandelier
was formed by a cluster of those wonder?
ful stone icicles. Tbe two entrances
were separated by a huge pillar ten feet
thick, evidently formed by drippings.
Afterwards we descended on tbe right of
tbe pit into the 'earthquake room,' where
there were unmistakable signs of a slip.
On the right the inclined roof had de?
scended and forced some of its stalactites
into the floor, breaking and pushing up
the clay for several yards. About a rod
from this there was, firmly attached to
the floor and the roof, a pillar seven feet
high and twelve inches thick. It was
certainly formed by dripping, as the union
of the portions which grew from above
and below was distinct. It had been
forced at least fifteen degrees out of its
original perpendicular position, and there
was a fracture near the roof. The top of
the pillar was moved twelve inches,
though still attached to the rock at the.
original place. From this it was evident
that the relative position of the roof and
the floor had been changed ten or twelve
inches. This cave was visited last year
by a party from the Smithsonian Insti?
tute, but as they remained only a short
time it is probable that some of the most
interesting features escaped their obser?
vation. There were other passages
which the earthquake seemed to have
dosed." '
J