The ledger. [volume] (Gaffney City, S.C.) 1896-1907, April 02, 1896, Image 3
THE WEEKLY LEDGER;: GAFETOSY, S. C., APRIL 2, 1896.
3
RUFUS SANDERS.
Sago of Rocky Crook Tolls About
tko Hill Country.
Jute Niihom and Stove Goodman Make
Trip to Slloanv-Sni Siiupklna'
“Illuo Jeans Breeches”
—Only a Man.
Onc.st upon a time old Miscs Strinprer
told me that she luul been perusin
around in this
vain and fleetin
world nigh, on
to 8 0 years.
“And I have al
ways took no
tice, Rufus,”
says she, "that
along about
this Roaaon of
‘ the year wc
most in general
ly always have
some sort of
weather.” Wi ll.thc longer I live-and the
deeper I go into this vale of years and
tears the nimv plainer I ean see wherein
the. good okI lady was right, touchln
the great <pu stion of weather. We
{have had some sort of weather—tn
fact, we have hud all sortf> of weather
here lately- and as usual the fruit crop
got caught out in the cold snap.
g-Siv '
w.
Tlicr '‘licit” the Wronfr Man.
Along with that general wave of
trouble and confusionment in> the
Rocky Creek settlement — which 1
eosildn't write it all up in my last let
ter—Jul!' X a hors he got tied tip at the
Crazy fjilcam.
lly this t ime no doubt you will recol
lect two or three things concern in Julc
Nabors. He is one of the most unhnp-
piest !!: : (1 down trod citizens In the
round or a ted world. ITr' is forevernnd
Ptcrnr.ily at out with the general gov-
sminent on the e< nnnon grounds that
tire “rii'li git ri( her” and the “poor git
poorer” n.s the days are goin by, or
words to tliat extent. Hut the mninest
tron’.di' with .Tide Nabors is that he is
crippl'd under his hat. Understand
tnc now, I don't throw no heavy blame
oaf’' man for that. He didn't boss the
job of mskin himself, and the good
Lord don’t make r.o mistakes in Ills
bnNness. Hut to the best of my recol
lection, the v. hole ent ire Nabors genera
tion never was aCiictod w ith any brains
in sp' nk of. Ami ns to Julc—well, he
r.vt liing for certain. Tie
11 v. In f is the matter with
Is hungry. He will go to
•:.d tul.e medicine and send
win n all he needs in the
don't l::<nv
rnn’t rvm f
him v. h u !
b<(l for !'iek
for the (!o;d
Blacked arms under the famous apple
tree. His first wife carded the wool
and spun the thread and wove the cloth,
and made him the most loveliest pair of
blue jeans breeches you ever saw per
haps. And from tiiat time till now old
man Sol has stood up and got married
three times with them same blue
breeches on. The next day after the
weddin he always pulls his marryin
breeches off an puts cm away in the
old family chest. And there they stay
till another funeral comes oft at the
Simpkins place, and the next weddin
day rolls around.
Hit was along in the. first windy days
of this year when the old lady Simp
kins took down mighty sick and was
presently gathered up to her fathers,
as it were. She was number three,
you understand, and oncst more Sol
Simpkins waa left a “pore lonesome
widdower” in this cold and naughty
world below.
So consequentially it want no ways
surprisin to me that mornin when the
Old man come ridin along by our house
with them same blue breeches on.
Right then at that time I couldn’t say
fer certain where old man Sol was goin,
but I knowed good and well what ho
was goin after.
“Yonder goes old man Simpkins with
his blue breeches on,” says 1 to
mother as he rid by. And by gracious,
she got so foamin, fightin mad with the
whole he division of the human race till
I thought in my soul she would jump on
me.
“It’s a pluperfect scandalation on the
settlement,” says she. “The green
Bering grass ain’t so much as sprouted
on his last wife’s grave. I’ll lay you
could go over to the Simpkins place this
mornin and find AuntMilly’s track out
In the cow pen and around the potato
bank. And yet here he goes—the wick
ed old scapegrace—with his blue
breeches on, so had of! to git married
till he could taste it with his eyes shet.”
Well, I didn’t have anything in par
ticular to say right along there. Mother
is a woman, you understand, with all of
a woman’s soft and gentle and tender
ways. She never has learnt one cold
and stubborn fact, which is that when n
man as old as Sol Simpkins takes up a
notion to git married, ft ain’t the right,
time of year for him to weep and wail
and grit his teeth over the sad and
buried past.
Anyhow, it turned out that the old
man was on his way down to the Flat
Woods to the Widder Watkins. It like
wise also come to pass that when Sol
Simpkins returned back home the next
day he had them same blue breeches on,
and the widder she went with him.
DO NOT WORRY.
Arp
Advises a View on
Brighter Side of Life.
the
No Comfort In Lamenting Over What Is
Going on In Turkey, Cuba and Other
Troubled Countries—Women
and Longevity.
Hiuarc meal of
round world is
victuals.
The naked, enwanhod truth In
regards to the NaL.irs family is that
they are too monstrous fresh from the
hill country. They first moved their
war bin into tin- Ho -ky Creek settlement
Borne rev! n or i l'’ l,t \ ears ago, and they
comefioi.; o'.:::"., hen s in the neighbor
hood of a pi: o t In v rail Possum Trot—
way l He! C in '.he hills, where the
women f ;.:•<• . till knittin socks for
the con f i!o;-.t !• ! 1 i‘i s, whilst the men
e.rc still votki f : id Hickory Jack son
for pres'd.vt < ' ry four years nareglnr
ns the time roll.-; aiound.
Now along in t he Christnins, you un
derstand, Jo! ' Nabors put in hfo bid
cm the cent met to carry nil th** ernry
people oil to t!io ioloani, |»nd blamed
if they (lid '! give him the Job. Socon-
wqucntially whi n Sieve (ioodmnn let
his head gr.'-rir.' jump a erg and went
blind : ta\ in <•: a/v it w as Jule’s business
t* take him to C '■ place prepared for
rravy poop! ■. Hut in ordermont to
oofl-roup ai ii imrusnoggle Steve into
to nk hi the’tNp, they told him that
Julc Na! or; had lost his wife and went
jflmn era/y ::ad that he (Steve (Jood-
mnn) would have to take the rnvin idi
ot to th" Pilorm
no candidal• m
nee how h
friend .lull
Steve lowed he wont
• >r the job. hut he didn't
could go hack on his old
Na! or: in times of trouble
ord of r/r rov , and or them grounds lie
would go.
So that van the general circumfer
ence of the surroundins when they got
r» the ears and went ofT together. .Tide
was tnkln Steve, and Steve he was Inkin
.Tide. And by the twelve epistles, when
they got there the general mnmrgc.r
rif the Siloam t tu ned Steve out (ind
kept .Tide in. Naturally, of course,
Jnle Nabors come up r.drsin f;ir sewrnl
(Tnys. hut the people in the settlement
didn’t know wlrit, in thuuderntions
fcnd went with him till he writ a letter
home giv iu out the fuets and enllin for
help. The comity hoard thru hnd a
railed meet in ami sent the papers on to
the Siloam. tcllin the general manager
that lie had lu ll the wrong man.
It was the hint of the week liefore
.Tide return' d Lack'home. Then the
gang put in and give him such a senn-
dlou.s draggin about his crazy scrape
till now, bless gracious, he won’t even
travel the big road for fear he will meet
op with somebody that has heard the
news.
The general mriimger of the Siloam
writ back In a letter that, he tried his
level blamdest to find out which one
of the men was the most craziest, and
finally at last on general principle*
and from general appearances he had
to hold the man which give ids name as
Julc Nabors.
In the meantime Steve Goodman had
hit the grit iiml hit it a movln. In glvln
his accounts to the county hoard Julc
reported "all present or accounted for
but one, and lie is out and gone.”
Now. if they ever f ml Steve Goodman
nnd bring him back to the settlement—
which I reckon they will—and he is still
a iittin candidate for the Crazy Siloam—
Julc Nabors will give up his job nnd re
tire back to t lie pleasant shadee of pri
vate life.
“Nothin But a Mnn.”
llui finally at last we are all plain,
human flesh and blood and bourn—
weak and wayward worms of the dust
—with the reglur human proneness tc
stray and struggle off into forbidden
grounds nnd cat of the forbidden fruit.
And it raley uin'tso tremendius strange
that somethin comes to pass now and
then in the Rocky Creek settlement.
Oncst upon a, time—in the dead
hours of night— I landed in the town of
Texarkana—which is either in Texas,
Arkansas or Louisana. The next morn
in there was a reglar drove,of boys hang-
in round the boardin house where I had
put up to pass off the time.
In brnisin around the town that day
I saw a yearlin hoy, with ami bend nnd
a freckly face, come chargin down the
street, sc ream in with every jump at the
top of his voice:
"0, maw! m—aw! m—a,—w!”
A line-looking Indy run, out on the
front stcps and wanted to know of the
l>oy what in all the round created
world was the matter with him.
"1 have caw Rufe Sanders!”—says the
Ikiv—“I have saw Rufe Sanders! lie
ain’t nothin but a man, and not well
dressed at that!"
Maybe that boy didn’t know It at the
time. Rut. right then and there he
spoke forth a great gob of human truth
nnd soberness. When I returned Ixiefc
home I sent him a pocket knife that had
three blades, with my double-breasted
compliments. llurirs Banders.
A HISTORIC BUILDING.
••Tlioin Hume Blue Brecehe#."
Amongst other things that come to
jxiss in durin that stormy week was a
quick and suddent weddin match down
in the Flat Woods.
Old mini Sol Simpkins has now been
married three different times since the
war, and oncst before the old soldlera
The Old Pont Office at Cliarlcston Tlat
Seen Pamonii Men.
"Among the quaint old structures of
Charleston our old post ofliee build
lug takes the lead in historic interest,’'
said Mr. James S. Murdock, n leading
wholesale merchant of the Carolina me
tropolis. Mr. Murdock is here with a
delegation of his townsmen to ask eon
press to make a modest appropriation
so ns to donate the aforesaid antinue
edifice to the city.
“The old post office,” said he, “wan
built of brick imported from England
In 1707 under the direction of a com
mittee of the colonial assembly. Its
leading members were. John Rutledge,
Henry Laurens and Thomas Lynch,
who later took a prominent part in the
formation of the republic, nnd whose
names will be found among the signer*
of the Declaration of Independence.
During the occupation of Charleston by
the Rritish it was used ns a prison, and
between 60 and 70 of the liest citizen*
were confined there before their r&-
moral to St, Augustine, Fla. In the
numljer was Col. Isaac Haynes, of the
celebrated family of that name. In
revenge for the execution of Maj. Andre
Haynes was taken out from prison and
suffered the death penalty by orders of
Col. llalfour, then in command, with
out the formality of a trial.
"In 1790, when Gen. Washington vis
ited Charleston, it was the same ohl
building that he was entertained, and
a splendid ball was given In his honoi
by the wealthy planters of the state,
cooperating with the town people.
With such historic associations sur
rounding it our people naturally take
a deep interest in their old post office,
nnd the idea is to keep it in its orig
inal condition as a sacred memento of
the past.”—Washington Pont.
Au Kxampli'.
Mrs. Trivvet—Do you think the anb
mala have a language?
Mr. Trivvet—Well, 1 have often heard
of deer stalking.—Judge.
Outside of revelation, there is surely
sufficient proof of original sin and
moral turpitude in human kind. If a
man could be lifted up in a balloon
high enough to see the earth roll under
him and could keep his position until
it had turned a time or two on its
axis, the scene that would pass his
vision would be proof enough. What a
horrible revelation of war and blood
shed ond suffering would puss beneath
him in almost every part of the earth!
We boost of modern civilization, but
has every advance to be baptized in
blood? Suppose a man could see at
one time all the present miseries of the
world and all the crime that caused it,
could he endure the awful picture?
Would it not paralyze his soul and ob
literate his power of vision, and make
him a maniac? Every day wc read of
these horrors nnd shudder, but they
are afar off and we have become almost
hardened to them by their daily repe
tition. If familiarity with danger
breeds contempt, for it so does, a daily
recurrence of crime and suffering and
grief breeds indifference. Unless we
see it with our own eyes wc are not
greatly affected.
The weeping prophet exclaimed:
“Oh, that my head were waters and
mine eyes a fountain of tears!” but
there Is no prophet to weep nowadays.
We have no time to weep. The poet
says:
■' Man’s inhumanity to man
Makes countless thousands mourn,”
and if we could actually .see every bat
tlefield and all the blood and agony,
nnd Into nil the prisons ami chain-
gangs and into every hovel and garret
and dark alley where t he poor do con
gregate, and into the hearts of all the
mourners at all the funerals, we would
never .smile again. The memory oi'
them would haunt us and we would be
more than willing to quit this horrible
world and take our chances in another.
Rut we will let the preachers talk
about this. We must look on the
brighter side. There is no comfort in
pondering and lamenting what is go
ing on in Turkey and Abyssinia and
Cuba, or over the long-continued quar
rels at Washington, or the shameful
broils In Kentucky, or the daily crimes
and murders and suicides and lyneh-
ings that fill the newspapers. Now is
the blessed springtime, when all nature
is smiling uj)on r.s. When the flow
ers are blooming and the grass i.;
springing and the birds are singing.
Even the lx.’asts of the f:;'!d and the
fowls in the yard are happy, and every
created thing save irnn m ems *o re
joice in the goodness of the Civator.
Wlrnt. is t he mat ter with man, anyhow ?
Woman is not so. nor an* the little
children who play and : port around us.
The poet says:
“ Every prospec t pleases
And only man la vile.”
Rut after all, there is comfort in
knowing that there are sonic good men.
Yew, lots of therm. You can pick them
out in town and city and country, and
a great traveler who has been all over
the world and mingl 'd with Gentiles
nnd Jews,and Arabs and Hottentots.and
the heathen Chinee, says he f >und good,
kind-hearted people of every tribe and
nation nnd religion on the globe. He
raid that a traveler could ne’ er be a
sectarian or be intol 'rant, like many
of our so-called Christ inns are.
Last Sunday I went out in the coun
try with a friend to visit, an old lady
who is on her Inst bod. She Inns lived
8.1 years, nnd T reckon never had an
evil thought in her life. She was pleased
to see us, nnd the nearness of death
gave her no alarm. "For the sake of
my grandchildren,” she. said, “I would
like to live a little longer to help them
nnd guide them in the right way." Her
Rible was printed away before the war.
nnd had been patched and panted and
mended until it would hardly hold to
gether, but filie knows a good deni by
heart, and told us v.hut portion: of it
were her greatest comfort, Tim old-
fashioned mothers are the bent people
on earth, nnd when they have j m sed
through all the perils of motherhood
they seem tooutlive the men. Tliercrie
three times a.s many old women in this
town a.s old men and they are m< t all
prudent man whatever muy be h!s oc
cupation. Man is very much like a
wagon. If it' is kept greased and i
painted and under shelter it will last
twice as long aa if it be neglected. Of
course, the mind has much to do witli
the health of the body. Trouble will
shorten life and bring the gray hairs j
sooner to the grav*. and that is why a
farmer’s life is the most conducive to
longevity. It is the most, independent
of all occupations. It is subject to less
temptation, le«s hazard, less worry, and
it is a little closer to God in its daily
communion with nature. The accepted
tables give to laborers 44 years, to me
chanics 47, to merchants 48, to pro
fessional men 52, and to farmers 64
j-ears. If long life, is an index of good
health and prosperity then the farmer
is blessed above all other people. There
is force and truth in the, old maxim
that “God made the country and man
made the town.”
Rut after all the crime and misery
that we read of this age is a great im
provement on Sodom, and Gomorrah.
Abraham could find more than ten good
men in any town or city in this coun
try; I Ix’lieve he could find 50 in Carters-
ville and 150 women. The Lord’s pity
and consideration for sinners is very
wonderful if He will save a whole city
full for the sake of ten good men. May
be that is why Ho dosent rain fire and
brimstone on the wicked now. It
might do harm to the righteous. The
ungodly ought to give Christians credit
for that. If the wicked people of this
world were nil bunched in one coun
try and not n good man in it how long.
1 wonder, would the storm stay off?
How long would the wicked stay there
if they could possibly get out? It is a
redeeming trait in human nature, how
ever wicked and depraved, to respect
virtue and good people. There ore but
few of the ungodly who would abolish
the churches if they could, or who
would rear their children in any but a
Christian eountrj\—Rill Arp, in Atlanta
Constitution.
PAY THE PRICE.
Sam
Jones Gives Young
Somo Good Advico.
Mon
It Is Not “Lmk” But “riuck” That
Brings Success—Vanderbilt ami Ills
Boat—Bow Lincoln Became
a Statesman.
Supply and demand regulate the
price in general, quality of the goods
regulates the price in particular. Every
thing lias a market value regulated by
the difficulty and expense of produc
ing or of obtaining tin', article. This
is true in the marts of trade, and social
life and in the moral world. Oranges
are worth five cents apiece, ears of eorn
are worth five cents a dozen. An up
right, industrious, thoroughly equipped
young man is worth $100 per month, and , i- s an uncoiMiuerable determination to
an ignorant, indolent, immoral j’outh : go on. V. L* n \ andorbilt s i oat sank.
Constant efforts is the price of peace
and liappim :, and constant toil is the
price of . ucce: -.
A sinner is a prodigal, end an idfor is
a spendthrift. 'The breaking down of
a wagon on a journey is a gnal for one
man to gi\e up tin” journey, ard return
home inch -pair witli luck, against him,
and fortune impow-ilib-. To another
man it is an inspiration for m w plans
and a signal for inventions and effort.
A broken wagon becomes a. life prepara
tion, a life preparatory problem, and
he goes to work on oilier plans and
strives. At last he has succeeded. Ho
has improvised pieces for the broken
parts, and after a few hours’ experi
menting, scheming and planning, Ids
journey is renewed, his destination
reached, and he is prepared for other
break downs, all of which are stopping
stones to succ ess, the price of which
of them widows. 1 had rather Insure
the life of a woman of 45 than a man
of .10. I would get. the premiums long
er. The old-fashioned men lived long
er than they do now. They had simply
habits and limited desires. 1 mean the
well-to-do men who lived in comfort.
The old presidents, leaving out Wash
ington, whose death was not from old
age, outlived the more modern ones.
John Adams lived to !»1 and
his son to 81. Jefferson was
8.1, Madison was 85, Monroe 71, and
Jackson 78. This makes an average
of 82 years, which is very uncommon.
The average of all the presidents is
only 68 years. In looking over their rec
ords I was surprised to find that three
of them died on the Fourth of July, and
that Adams and Jefferson expressed a
desire to die on that day. Whether
Monroe did or not the biography does
not say. I have no doubt that, he did,
for that day was very dear to the pa
triots of that time, and their wish was
father to their fate. It. amounted al
most to will power, for the chance fora
man to die on that day was only one
In 165—nnd the chance for three pres
idents out of six to die on that, day is
almost beyond computation. Could it
have been chance or was it their spirit
ual devotion to the day and the declara
tion that gave birth to a great nation?
Neither Polk nor Pierce nor Harrison
nor Johnson nor Grant saw Ids three
score ami ten. But ever since King
David made the declaration that the
days of our years are three score and
ten that ha* keen th^j allotted age of
men. It is still the (iverage age of a
THE FLYING DUTCHMAN.
Orlsln of tho Htory of tlic Specter of ttio
t’ape of Good Hope.
The atmosphere in the vicinity of the
Cape of Good Hope has that peculiar
power of unequal refraction which pro
duces the spectral mirages so weii
known to the early settlerson the great
plains and to all travelers and explorers
in desert regions. This unequal blend
ing of the rays of light gives rise to
what are known as “spectral loomings,"
by which is meant the apparent sus
pension of ships and other objects in
midair. The peculiar properties of the
atmosphere over that portion of the
ocean mentioned have been known since
nmn first “rounded the capo,” ir 4 their
voyages from western Europe to the
Indies, and the regular appearance of
the mirage at that point is resjxmsible
for the legend of the “Death Ship,”
otherw ise known a.s the “Flying Dutch
man.” According to the story, a Dutch
captain, homeward bound from the
East Indies, met with long-continued
bad weather while trying to “round
the enjie.” This series of squalls was
coupled with other circumstances which
made “turning the cape" next to impos
sible. The wind was “dead ahead” and
the weather was dark and foggy. At
the time when the brave little Dutch
captain was making a final effort to
get off in a northwesterly direction and
was n’oout to make a failure of it, tlm
mate and the sailors advised him to
turn back and seek shelter in a neigh
boring harbor until the gale was over.
Rut this he refused to do, swearing
that he Intended to “turn the cape”
if he had to lx*nt back and forth along
that shore until the day of judgment.
For this burst of profanity, so the tra
dition says, he was. doomed to steer
against the blustery winds forever.
The sails of the ship, so those who bo-
1’cve in the legend say, have become
bleached with age and its sides and
bottom worm-eaten and decayed in
the long struggle which has ever since
been kept up lx*twecn the cursed ves
sel and the elements. The little Dutch
captain and his crew, like all persons
living under a sped, continue to exist,
knowing their condition, but unable to
help themselves. Ship captains who
have sighted the doomed vessel time
and again during the past century and
a half report that the crew of the
cursed Dutch vessel appear to he living
skeletons. Yet they continue to live
under the blighting effects of what
was brought on by their master’s rash
ness. They cannot lower a boat, they
arc so weak. Yet t hoy occasionally hail
passing vessels, imploring to be res
cued from their awful fate.
Such is the story of the “Flying
Dutchman,” which, no doubt, origin
ated through ignorant, superstitious
sailors viewing the mirage in awe
stricken terror.—St. Louis Republic.
Be Got None.
“Did you hear about Samuels?” asked
Mrs. Greymare’s husband.
"No; 1 didn’t hear about Samuels,”
the lady answered. “When you have
anything to tell, why don’t you tell It?”
“Yes, dear. Well, Samuels was going
home the other night, when a footpad
shot at him, and the ball hit a latch
key in Samuels’ vest pocket and his
life w as saved. So you see w hat good
a latchkey is.”
“Indeed! If Samuels had been going
home at a reasonable hour he wouldn't
have met. any footpad. Secondly, he
curries $50,000 insurance, payable to
his wife, and if it had not, been for
that key she would be a rich widow
right now. So, if you are hinting
around for a latchkey, you will have
to bring home, some bettor story than
that one. That’s all. I’m going to bed
now, nnd if you want to read you’ll have
hi go to the kitchen. And don’t waste
the coal.”—Cincinnati Enquirer.
MitHtcr nn<i Dog.
“Well,” said Snaggs, “I think many
dogs have more sense than their mas
ters.”
"Yes,” chimed in Craggs. “I have a
dog Jike that myself.” (And yet he
couldn't make out why they laughed.)
—Tit-BiU.
can’t get his board. A profound schol
arly and tho ,, oughly equipped specialist
names his price, but the quack works
on tho plan, many nickels make a
mickle, and generally is fortunate
enough to find hoard with his wife. If
you put the letter “1”’ in front of the
word “luck,” v ou then have tine word in
its etymology. Wherever you find a
successful man in any sphere of life, you
ma}' rest assured that he has paid the
price. Soft work never makes hard
muscles. The top of the mountain is
reached !>}• the severe test of muscle,
step b3 r step, and whenever 3'ou see a
man standing on the mountain top, you
3nay lx; certain t hat the sw eat has stood
on his brow, and he pa id the price. And
when 3'ou find a man standing on a lofty
summit of a pure life, with a spotless
character, you 111113’ lx; sure that he has
fought the battles v. ith appetite and
passion, with pleasure and surrounding,
and paid full price for what he got.
The scholar has taken hours of self-
indulgence, and has. planked them
down in solid study, burning the mid
night lamp. The wealthy man has paid
for his riches in industr^v aiui self-sac
rifice. If I h ave succeeded in 11113’ sense,
I have paid the price. I bought m3'
muscle in an ore bank, working from
sun up to sun down. M3' knowledge
of human nature, of men and things, I
bought by daily toil among the masses;
and an3' man could have accomplished
as much, and more than I, if he had
planked down as much hard work.
There is no law in this country to pre
vent a man from painting a great pic
ture, cutting a gr<-atstatue, preaching
a great sermon, gathering a great for
tune or performing great deeds. The
most ignorant have become the most
learned, t he poorest, have become the
richest, and the most obscure the most
famous.
“Fa}’ the price and take the goods.”
The bankrupts are those who have sold
out too soon and too cheap. The poor
bloated, blear-eyed drunkard has soi l
out his manhood to appetite, the de
bauchee has sold out bis cliaiaeter to
passion, the tramp has sold out to in/i-
i;css, the gamb! r sold out t > chance,
the sinner has sold out to the devil.
The cry of a tramp is wag.r. without
work, and the eiy of every failure in
life is success without merit, or ki other
words the cry is: “The goods without
the price.’’
Commodore Vanderbilt wanted a
boat. I! is mother promised if he would
plow and hoc anil cultivate ten acres of
corn she would loan him the money to
buy it. Ho cultivated the eorn, and
bought his boat, w hich was sunk and
was lost while he was bringing it home.
Not discouraged, he worked night and
ckiy and secured the money to buy an
other, with which he laid the founda
tion of his fortune. The toil, sweat,
defeat, enterprise, grit and determina
tion of his boyhood days were the gold
coin he paid for his success. That sue-
sess is still on the market, but it comes
high, and \cry few are willing to pay
the price. Hall and bat and leisure
hours, entertainments and cards, tan
shoes and soft hands, perfume and
sports, will never buy a boat, or l ring
success in life.
The young man who puts down the
price, gets what he wants. Renjamin
Franklin started his printing business
in Philadelphia in a small basement
room—his kitchen, bedroom, office and
printing shop all in one room. lie was
cook, housekeeper, lypesetler, foreman,
editor, publisher, sexton and devil. lie
hauled his type through the streets of
Philadelphia in u wheel barrow. His
opponent called to ree him one day, and
said: "I’ll starve \ou out.” Franklin
showed him a pone of bread off w hich
he had made several meals, anil said:
“If you do, you will have to live cheaper
than I ilo.” Franklin didn’t die of
starvation, lie obtained a brilliant
success, but he paid for it.
Some time ago I was in the largest
shoe house in the world, in St. Louis.
In that store, is a motto, hung where
every clerk could see it: “Step quick,
we want no slow steppers here.”
Luck is simpl}' the sun and the show
ers. Luck never made a crop. There is
a sun and showers in every man’s life;
but sweat and muscle make a crop.
Abe Lincoln, a poor, obscure, illiter
ate 3’oiitli, stood in a door of a village
store, in which he was partner. A
neighbor stopped his wagon before the
door, a barrel full of rubbish would not
stay on the w agon. The neighbor pur-
suadod Abe to buy it for 75 cents, and in
the barrel of rubbish wo* Rlaekstone’s
Commentaries.
In those commentaries was tin jxisi i-
more things came up out of the water
than went down.
A real man climb:- to success over the
timbers of Ids distiv--It L equally
true in the moral world. Job was
crown'd king in th i .'aim of patience.
You ean be patient,,too, a.s Job, if you
pa}’ t he price. Abi: tood a prince
in the realm of faith. You can walk
up by his side, if you plank down the
price.
Samson was strong when k - was
consecrated, vuak win 11 the symbols
of bis, 1 onseenrdoi’ laid is parted. St.
Pun! was a Iwo, caring nothing for
stri) , misfortune, shipwi ■ ela or any-
thin::, ••iionorand sham until rnoeon-
ditions ri: e. act wall your part for
Hier by all the honor U .”
Na 1! F.Jo.yks.
l-AZ'd ON A STURGEON.
Yn.vago Down »>:» the James
Diver a: the 1 alls ol Kiehiuoud.
Ai
:.Cllg tile
nany
ir.ei
denis of the
Okie
1 lime, th;
■; ini
r» .;
u now, Dr.
J. R
msill Haw
kins 1
* 1 Is
us of one that
hanp. ned in J
.lines
ri * f
r, at tiie falls
01 ;
iiehniond.
in Ik
‘ . v (
ar 1779. Ho
u'-'.'ll
res us tli:
t 11. a 1
»y (
f th" leading
eitiz
ens of Ilk 1
meiiil
n«. »
hat time, were
<*' ;•
wit nesses
to ti e
::
, and that ho
had
it stra.it
from
iLi :
n.
It
was eonci
‘ining
Mu
rtin Hawkins,
an u
nc!" of 1 he
docl..
r '
! hi. uncle waa
; “ K 1
■ at huntc
r and
fit
honnan. In
thos
• days .]
anus
1*1 \
r was well
stoe
is d with shad.
111 May tin y came
! up f
run: tiie : .
a, and Ini
Hill . d.S of JX'O-
pie
fond of ti
f SpOi
•t w
ould assemble
on t
hi* rocks
a mic
istre
am along the;
! tali:
, and witli dipi
would .-uppl}’
1 thei
UKelyes v. it
h all t
hey
wanted. Our
: hen
was at i
as po.
at Vv
atehing for a
j fill**
h, ii,'!i a
long
• an immense
i st ur
geen, and
■topi
;i to 1 u’> his sides
j against the rot
k. ace
un!i
ig to the habit
of s
: urgeons.
V. I:rn
M r.
Hawkins con-
i elm
id tiiat il
Ilf f
ouli!
oniy get his
hands into the gilis of the me; ster ho
might Micceed in la*nding him.
Accordinglv he crept to 111'; side of
tin- roe!..
d
crept
over, ,
can 1 ub-
biug t
sides 0
1 * i f
h
] _
r . he tail.
and |.
rom r l l i
fiiel
•y
u
)
toward the
in ad.
until at
i.
■j
gills were
1 eaeli
d. V. Mi
a :
n
thrust the
hand:
v.ere serf
J | / / * .
* t
* ’.cry inner
jaw s 1
)f tiie !i
Wil
n
i V
gave a lurch
that j
<•1 k d : In
r.- i
111
from the
rock.
II" id :
*s1 i J
IV*
the
Ts back,
but 1;
s hands \
. f If
he
I
in a vise.
For a
inra ient
il V
is
*u
.'j
• and in
teres 1,
then bo:
.1 fi •
h
d
rider sank
in the
dei p. 'tar
1, # r >
< f t he flood.
The
speeiaiors
WC
‘IV
. ‘
ha- t • with
f right
TI: y
th; *
•
t!
;■ friend
was U
e”.
aft:
r :
l
onu*ntfi.
fish ai
d ii: hern.
1:1 f
: a
10
• ue surface
a!.out
100 3 at <h
l i O \
. 11
t
»K
river, and
.
iv mail
h I at tin
mu*
fa<
•f
1
e.g enough
to hr;
at he, tin 11
h
1)
A mo-
infill
1. r t
IV.’
’ f
ai
and then
|
and agai
. a
t
111
wahers liore
them
away.
Tli’ ;
-
1-
US
d under
Mnyo*
s bridge,
hah
a
1.
iil
■ i'rom the
starting point.
Feojde along the
cited and gave eh: ■
i In the meantime ti.
j hausted, and tie* rid.
it a i d 11: an lot ry t
j bar, tIn n a liltlc w: / 1
j I.e readn d • uei 1
i after
■ h ore I. came cx-
; - i ’ ' t hey could,
li. a \\ as lx ing e.\-
• h;.d ci: covered
! r for a sand
low th' ia. This
Amt here,
1 st run;: I.-, he d.. • "v! ids t rophy
ashore i.n the 1 !: u ■ i : : Ido of the
river, and on th" ■ ide o: .ionite from
the point of ntarth"-. Rich: mud waa
then a small Iow a, and in a little time
tids strange adw ntnre v ax known to
ever}’ inhabitant.
An ovation folk. \ ‘d. Ti e fish,
which nn n.seri J 1 n . et a d w> ighctl
ICO pounds, was serv.-d up in a man
ner to suit e\e y Iasi; . ;p I the night
that followed tins e; od was spent
in hi,'rli glee, and the dis!'ic' 1. da d ad-
vcnturi r was ew r afterward known as
Martin Hawkins, the st
This gentleman died in
at the res; iuenee of a 1
Rurton, about ten ndd .■
rnond. - Richmond I' :
tin rider.
Ud year
d, Daniel
. of Rich-
Journal.
Blver TJmt Sliifi ; i urn:*.
The shifting of '.lie. current of the
Mi. souri riwr between Hooiieand Mon-
itcaucountie .Inc broi giit about a novel
j suit, the papers for which have been
filed by Edward Mun : .y. of Ashland.
The i tiit is for a large and valuable
trait of hind south of Uolui,ebia, on the
opposite side of the ri'. in Moniteau
count}. Tiie. land, uceoidii.g to the
original survey, w:m in Hoonc count}’,
on this side of the rivi r, but owing to
the gradual change in the roum: of
the stream tlie eniii 1.inn in question
now lies in Monitc ui count \. The tract
is known a- c land kind,alt! n gh there
bility of a stabtauan, and the prepara- 1 i"> no water between it mid Moniteau
tion of a president. That was luck, t ho
opjxjrtunit}', the. season, but tlx* long
hours of midnight study that Lincoln
]x>ml over those commentaries, mas
tered their contents, was the price paid
for the foundation on which stood a
president.
Garfield bought the president’s chair
with golden hours of stud}’ which hie
sounted on tlu* pages of his Ixxiks in a
cabin while his widowed mother held
the torch.
The race is not always to the sw ift nor
the battle to the strong. The fellow
that keexx* at it, is the fellow tliat wius.
Ununty. Should Mr. .Murphy succeed
in getting pirvM . sbui of thi land on
the grounds slab'll, thei ' will be sev
eral other parties t;> citabl, h claims
on their funner farms which the
treach' ron river removed from Rixmc
to Moniteau count}.- : 't. Louis Globo*
Democrat.
A Bri'uilful Invi'n:ion.
'‘These new Loeii.'grii ray photo
graphs are coimr to make trouble.”
“Yes, life won't be vou lh livingwlun
all tlio iie.i;.'hlK)iknow ju.st what, on«J
another have lor dinner.” — Chicago
Record.