The watchman and southron. (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, May 12, 1885, Image 1
??B?e*S?^<*- W2? ..?^K- .:->*>..'?<? r> -
?HE WMTKK WATCHMAN, Established April, 1830?
"Be Just and Fear not-Let all the Ends thou Aims't at, be thy Country's, thy God's and Truth's.
THE TR?B S?UTHRON, Established June, 1866?
Consolidated Aug. 2,1881.1
SUMTER, S. C., TUESDAY, MAY 12, 1885.
New Series-Yoi. IT. m. 41.
Pu&U&od mry Tuesday,
f?tehmarf mk^outh^m^?^a^s'hingi
V Company,
J SUMTER, S. C.
J TS RMS :
* ^TW?, Dollars^pcc annum-inad^ancew.
\** OT3> ?f.^js- st
One Square, first insertion?..".........$1 00
Every subsequent insertion.............. 50
Contracts for three monttsj or longer w4il
^^^3^j^e^ced^tES^s y~y* ?g-.
^^gc^D&tt|c^c^^ieh subserved
rafer?^wrftife cffltrgeoffbl'as advertiselafenmi
Obituaries and tributes of respect will be
?barged for. ? x -
Marriagewice? and- notices af*?ha^nl?
: llsbedTr^M^W^M^MSi?^i Sh M
For Job work -or contracts for advertising
address Watchman and Southron, or apply at
tue Office, to N. G. OSTEEN,
Business Manager.
r?t %
CREAM
. .?BmiiigOwp-for Making Crom cf Tarty
lor DEUCE'S CREAM BAKING POWDER
^Forest and str?ngt Xaftn^ JS^wit Flavor*
[^g>E AtaSir - REGISTERED
no9
A NEW
For Gonsumtion, Asthma, ^BroJichitis^
Dyspepsia, Catarrh, Hea?kclie^DebU?^
ty* Rhe^maUsm^^s^m
Chronic and N&f?jMt?ty?&ttif 1?
We, the undersigned? having received great
and permanent benefit from^Cne-ose oC ;tCOH*
POUND OXYGEN," prepared and adminis
.tered by DBS.STA?SXT & PALI*, of - Ph a ade 1
' phia, and teing s??fefied that ir is^a ?ew-'di?
covery in medical " science, rand-: all-"that" is'
claimed for it, consider it a duty which we
owe to the many thousands who -are- suffering
from chronic and. scK?ll?^"racurabi?*' '??is
. eases to do ail that vre can to make its virtues
-?kTiOwn ao?fr-to rospjre-t?e pabHc>. with coo f>.
dencear. ^ >, o -%
W?^sv? "personal knowledge of Drs. Star-:'
. Jcey & Palen?- JChey ar^edoc?ed, intelligent;'
and conscientes? physicians^-.will not,
we aregare^make any statement, which they
doiiot knowor-beiieveto.be trae,, nor pub?
lish any testimonials or reports of cases w bich?
are not gennie.
.-TO. D. KEIXYT "
Member of- Congress from Philadelphia.
. '?? Tl Si.-A RTHUR;- - ? - :
Editor and Publisher "Arthur's Home
f " ~-y, Cf COSi?fiP^- -
. ;Ediior. of ^butheras^ Observer,"
Philadelphia. * . . ;
PHILADELPHIA, Fal, JUSK 1, 1882.
^M>rdef fc^me?t ? ?a fora}-: ioo^ry in .re-:,
gard, to our professional arid personal stand?
ing, and to'give increased confidence in our.
tlatements'an'd ra tbe genuinessof our testi^
monia?s and reports of cases,;--we print the
-aborecard-rrbm gentlemen ^wett- and .widely
koowa and of the highest personal character.
Our" Treatise on Compound Oxygen^ ' ' con?
taining s history of the discovery of and
mode of action of this- -remarkable curative
agent, and a large record of surprising cures
in Consumption, Catarrh, Neuralgia, Bronchi?
tis, Asthma, etc., and a wide range of Ch ron
ic diseases, will be sent free. . v
... Address-Drs. STARKEY & PALEN.
1109 * lill Girard Street, PhOadeZpnia., Pa.
F. H. Folsom, L. W. Folsom.
-:-ESTAB'D 1868.
F. IT. FOLSOM & BRO.
Practical Watchmakers "and Jewelers,
Main-Street^opposite John Reidys,
SUMTER, S. C.?
M
s
.*?
sa
WALTHAM!
o
Clocks, Silverware, Jewelry, Spectacles,
Cutlery, Fishing Tackle, Violin
Strings* Machine Needles,
Oils,
of Watches, Cloc^ uL Jewelry
. promptly done and
gnasunteedi
THE SORS OF THE MAHDI?
J?es, lj?n the S?ss of $e5?n?y Sondan,
And I hardly think a more competent man
Con Id ll*'foo nd betweetfifenneesee and Japai
|;?3&> b?BB^efth?lbatish invader. - -.
I'm a twelve-fingered, bow-legged son of i
Sna ; . . T'
I'm a prophet from 'way back^ff-?iu8;of*p
san ; v^"ata "
Fm a dandy, a lol-?ah, a darlin', a tran'-.
I'm a red-headed ripper and raider.
} ?^.^T|plB^^m^!^ more,
'-? A*cfev?fsj m?&o?em'? ?quak to fonr;
They're not much for style, but they're dan
dies for gore
They're bad men from Keshir-el-Wadir.
\ 'El Gorda^re:^tjp^uredi^?n napp^t? state.
? El StewarVhas?me%h?s-irell3^
I'll butcher El Wolseley, if he'll only wait,
, And Queen Vic. will think luck has betray
:?gm ed ber^. M?. -v ?ere*
k So^roike/ shirtless -socs of -^the-shimnronng
sand,
One more blow for your prophet (that's me,
understand)
Disembowel the insolent infidel band 1
Vivisect the infernal invader.
S Fwl^en for th%^atchmkn and :Southron.
Mai Mi^eelft '
J BY ABOI).
It was Sunday ^morning, bright and
\ sjSll, and^???Hor^tb?^??^ church in
? ?i? placa^?? ial^igHB&ivillagers to
.ifch?us^of sprayer.> ^he^. trees wore
the first green of spring-time, the fruit
trees were covered with their odorous
wealth of pink and white blossoms, and
j tbe day Jwasi sf pleasant vannV still-so
stu! thatlhe soog~c?f the birds came up
in a strong sweet chorus from the sur?
rounding forests. A day to make one
"rise above the earth that he may hear
the angels^sing."
! :> Ma^-Maycard uame-across the fields
;^?%?*I?ea^?nd well-kept farm onrthe
hill-side, to ?O?D Squire Somers' family
font^ifc ^y$t$the church. Max had
' ^o^??s^Fnra life since he was a lit?
tle boy led along that very path by his
mother's hand ; it had grown into a
habit with him now, and the day did
not seem like Sunday to him if he failed
? to walfc .-witir- pretty"; Lilian ^Somers to
He was a splendid specimen of man?
hood, a young Hercules, standing six
feet without his beets, yet he was
scarcely more than a boy having seen
i d?Wab?nt 6%??hd twenty years. He
' ?form ^3ajfc ?osr?^fitt'mg suit which/
showed bis fine form to advantage, his
brown hair, though cut short, persisted
m ?npbg^fe^vec ?b?S bea?>-and- his
-s%e^da>k^ey??y?s *N*e ^y??x?psess-?
ire. A good frank face, the only fea?
ture marring its beauty being the
receding chin, which nearly always
marks its possessor as wanting in will-1
. plower or steadfagftiess of purpose:
? d With the easj?grac?fal step peculiar
? to himself, and 'which the lads'Of the
'village vainly triebt, to imitate, ?he came
ap to the SpjK?S&gate just as~?he slen?
der, supple figure of a giri came tripping
.down the walk._ *~ '
SKa^6^?^rn tngliflian^'^^clie'dTgai
ly,asjjt?nened thejgafce for her. 'How
is theofnire this ^norning ? Better, I
hor$.*****? * r"
*Papa is better,' said Lilian after
she had;greeted-him, 'but he does not-,
feel well enough to.come ont to-day.'
J ?>iah? IflCtrry ihej is: ?ti?L unwell. But
there is much satisfaction in thiukiog
that f shall^h?ve yon all to myself for
one more Sunday at least,' said Max,
: J?s^?y?s t?Mpg Io a^?cTfiogly the trim*
figure of the girl, elia" in a' pretty dark
tbros^.^esfiWi^rcherry colored ribbons
*at the throatVnd^n the masses of jetty
^hair^r Lilian was very pretty physical?
ly, imt the chief charm of her face con-,
, eisi?d iu?ts expression of gentleness and
?racspsre l? parity.
Max and Lilian were not exactly en
gag^l^jsi 'ike ^ossip&said that they
might as'we?llie, abo! the^villagers gen
erajlyjjincluding Max and Lilian them?
selves-, bought so too. They had gone
to schooi- together and had ever since
b'eei fest friends. " *
:-'[ They walked on this .moming,talking
as yonng people will talk when all alone
on bright Sabbath m oro i ogs.
.Have you seen Mr. Thompson's
^?ecer-y?t?^Max asked-^rleasantly;
* ^; *Kc?r said Lilian ; 'have. y?uT
^^Yes^?^aaw her yesterday at the
depot jost aa she left the train. I bad
gone down there for some-freight. Mr.
Thompson introduced me-' on .the spot
an&invited me to call OD her.'
**I have "heard that she is very pretty.
Is,she T. asked .Lilian.
"'Pretty is'not the Vord'to describe
her,-she is-beautiful,, the most beautiful
.woman! have ever seen/ said Max en?
thusiastically.'. ' J
Lilian's eyes darkened as a new
strange- feeling touched her heart for a
atoment ; but.'she- threw it off, she
would not doubt Max, she would sooner
;doabt-herself. rOf'course Max had his
faults and failings like every one else,but
Lilianh?d never seen them. Max could.
read her countenance as aa open page,and
was now saying conceitedly to himself.
?? do believe she is jealous. How ab?
surd it is for her to doubt me. Iv is
nice,. how.ever,: to have girls jealous
about one.'
As-they entered the church-yard they
met Mr. Thomson, accompanied by a
graceful dark-haired woman, whom, ac?
cording with the simple usages of the
place, he introduced to them without
farther ceremony as his niece, Miss
Millie Thomson. She bowed coolly to
Lilian, but smilingly shook hands with
Max, mentioning the meeting of the
day before. She was indeed beautiful
as Max had said-gorgeously lovely.
Her features were perfect, except the
mouth, which was too full and sensual
for perfect beauty, her eyes were very
dark; and her complexion clear and
rich. She wore a heavy velvet robe
-which fitted her tall well-formed figure
perfectly ?nd which made Lilian's sim?
ple costume appear almost shabby.
After this Sunday Lilian saw nothing
of Max "Tor several days, and these were
days of torture to her, as her father
woudered continually why Max did not
run in to see him as usual, for she
guessed only too surely why he did not
come. On Thursday she saw him pass
her home with Millie by his side, tak?
ing her out for a buggy ride. The
next Sabbath, her father being still un?
well, Lilian went to church alone for
Max did not come for her. Soon after
she was seated he entered with Millie
on his arm. Millie looked at Max and
smiled-the look he gave ber in return
made it clear to all that Lilian had lost
* Three weeks of Millie Thomson's visit
had passed away and daring that time
Max had been her constant and most
devoted attendant. Why she had sin?
gled him cut from the other young men
and showed him so much more favor he
did not know and did not pause to ask.
All that he knew was that she was
kind, sp kind that he was intoxicated
and Lilian forgotten. Meanwhile, Lil?
ian the patient and gentle, had nursed
her father back to health and had quiet?
ly and in as few words as possible, giv
I en -him light on the subject of Max's
I shortcomings and misdemeanors. She
quietly and bravely did' her duty and if
[?.her heart ached and refused to be com?
forted no one knew it.
. The week before Miss Thomson's vis?
it Came to a close a ball was arranged,
in her honor, to take place at ber un?
cle's^ Lt was to be quite an affair for
so q?aeJ;?a? place apd/?he joung folks
met each other with faces full of expec?
tation; anet the question ever. ready
'Are you going to the Ball.' Every
one was was going, of course. Though
she knew it would be trying, Lilian re?
solved to go, for she thought it would
be best for her to do so.
The eventful night arrived and Mr.
Thomson's large parlors were crowded
with guests. Millie, handsomely dress?
ed in rose-colored satin toned down
with ivory tinted lace", and with dia?
monds flashing in the heavy black folds
of her' hair, looked like au Eastern
queen. She was decidedly the belle of
the ball, but her black eyes blazed with
an*evil light as she saw/that Lilian won
almost as much admiration' as ?herself.
Lilian wore a gauzy" white dresst with
her hair falling Ju curls to her: waist.
?Tf 'Boys,' said Guy Phillips to a crowd
of the young men 'standing near him,
'boys it's . a shame for Max to si igh t
that * nice - little girl lor that painted
beauty yonder. Kow I propose that
we devote ourselves' to Lilian to-night,
and see that she has a good time.'
Thjs:-proposal was-.warmly-agreed to,
for Li lian-was a. gen er al favorite.
To alP?ppearaBces-ahe did enjoy her?
self io spite of the fact that Max scarce?
ly spoke to her and did not once ask her
tapdance-but how deceptive appearan?
ces may ber .
\ AU went merrily. '- - .
'Soft eyes . looked love to eyes that spake
again.'
And fair cheeks blushed at the praise of their
own lo vi i ness. ?
""To Lillian -the'hours* dragged slowly ;
thesinusic, -lights and gay crowd op?
pressed her. Presently there came a
rumor^^rried by busy : tongues to her
ears Max had proposed to Millie and
had been accepted. A couple passed
her moving to th? slow soft music of a
waRz. ; It was Max and Millie and he
was looking into her eyes with a look of
satisfied possession, a conciousness of
happy triumph.
It was late and Lilian stayed for no
more,, but went home, and the grey
menang light found her still in her ball :
'dress, kneeling by her . bed with her j
white sorrow-stricken face in her j
hands. ]
Millie Thomson went home, and Max i
acted like one lost till the time came ]
when she bad given bim permission to ?
vjskher. ?He bad been, so engrossed ;
by he??4hadL lived irf theJight of her
smile for weeks, and now that the in- j
t^icatron oOm^presence was remp5jed"i
evferythitt^ seem ed :ut te r ry sT?ter^n d flat. <
His formerly regular habits were bro- ]
ken, and even the quiet and rational l
pleasures,, before so dear, were eschew- ]
ed as irksome. Th? one thing of his j
form eHife that he missed and longed ]
for was Lilain'8 sweet and friendly in- !
tercourse, and he would have gone to <
see her, had. not an uneasy sense of ?
guilt kept him away. i
b It was the day before the time for his" ?
visit-to the city and be had everthing in <
readiness, to take the early morning .
train. He sauntered about idly ; never 1
had time, in all bis happy Hfe, hung so <
heavily. He sat down and picked up a <
newspaper, carelessly looking over it 1
and finding little to interest -him until <
bis ^ye caught the name of Millie j
Thomson in connection with a marriage
notice, and he eagerly read the follow- i
ing: * i
'Married at-Church by the Kev. <
Dr. C--, ?ouot Thaddeus Cynski, of j
Cronstadt, Russia, and Miss Millie I
Thomson of- this city. The wedding i
party left for Europe immediately. 1
i .Max sprang up manly, going to do- <
he knew not what. The heartlessness, i
hopelessness of it all came over him.
"False, false," be groaned-as he sank
back to his seat. "Yet it serves me ,
right for the way that I have treated |
Lilian. I wonder if she will ever for- j
give me," and the young men sat long ,
into the night bitterly regretting his j
folly and infatuation.
Lilian was revenged if she had wish- j
ed for it, for even as he bad caused her ]
to suffer, another was pouring out the j
bitter cup to him, and her suffering had ,
had no element of self-reproach in it, ?
but this ingredient made his sorrow all ,
the heavier to be borne. But Lilian's .
heart was aching in pity for him even ,
now, for she had read the same notice ,
almost at the same time with himself. ,
His friends blamed and pitied Max ,
alternately, but he heard little of either. ?
Ile was feeling the first and heaviest ,
sorrow that had ever come near his ,
young life and he bore it alone. He
longed to go to Lilian and get her to j
comfort bim, but this he dare not do ?
yet for fear it might be refused, and <
this was the one thing more he felt that j
he could not bear. He knew now that j
his love for Millie had been nothing ,
more than blind passion, strong but ,
blind, lasting only a little while until j
his eyes should be opened. His love j
for Lilian, though obscured for a while, j
was rooted in a thorough knowledge j
and admiration of her character, and ,
therefore would last as long as she her- *
self. Millie bad amused herself for a
while at his expense and had added one
more to the list of her rejected swains. |
"Who by repentance is not satisfied I
Is not of Heaven nor earth." <
****** * I
Two years have passed since Millie ?
Thomson's fateful visit to the little vii- <
l?ge of C-. Max does not live i
alone now in his pretty farm on the '
hillside, for Lilian has been twelve i
months bis bride. To-night is to be a i
gala night with them for it is the anni- ?
versary of their wedding and Guy Phil?
lips and his English wife aro to help
them celebrate the occasion. t
"By the way, Max," said Gay s
they were talking over . their cigars al
ter supper, "did you ever hear wb?
had become of that- old sweetheart c
yours, Miss Thomson V " .
"No," said Max, "I have neve
heard of her since her marriage wa
published. She went to Europe, I be
lieve."
"Yes, I saw her when I went ove
to bring .Minnie home," said Guy
watching his friend's countenance.
"Indeed ! where?'' askec?Max lazily
"She was acting in a third rate va
riety theatre in Paris."
"Good Heavens ! doing what?".ask
ed Mai, now thoroughly interested.
"Acting in sr low theatre in Parts
I saw her on the boards myself. I jus
strolled in there one night to see wha
it was like," he added apologetically fo
himself.
".But are you sure it was she?" Ma
asked. ' .
"Yes, I am.sure. ..I heard her storj
from one of the actors, and it is a sac
one. It seems that the fellow she mar
ried was no Connt after all bat only i
rascally foreigner who had a wife al?
ready at home. They had not been ot
the Continent two months * before ht
i?serted her, carrying her diamondi
with him, and has not been heard fron
noce. The actor who-told me aboul
ber says that she has taken to the Habit
rf smoking opium and that it will soon
render her unable to do even the work
which she now has. She has altered
greatly for the worse and you would
scarcely know ber now for the same
woman who was here two years ago."
'.'Thank heaven . she did not marr}
me," cried Max fervently, and he wenl
in and kissed his. pure hearted wife.
Round Dancing.
The Charleston Craze Discussed
.. . ^Charleston.Sunday Dispatch.]
The Tound dance question is it
Charleston jnst now what the rollet
skate craze is in the North. It is thc
rage." A very pretty, rosy cheeked
young lady,.of fifteen summers, cam?
into this office yesterday and complain?
ed bitterly of the war that was teing
waged on her pct institution. She said
the preachers" h ad spTuug it on, them at
the very opening of the pic nie season,
and if something wasn't done, the pic
otc season . would be a square-failure.
She placed a big bouquet of fresh flowers
on our table, and said : "Kow, how dc
you stand on round dancing ?" ^ We
told her to go on to the prc nie and
make bay and break hearts while the
san shone, and we would answer her
question in this issue. These following
md thrilling lines are dedicated to her:
We believe in round dancing, and ?
heap of it. We believe everybody
should lay in a supply of it, if it takes
ill summer and ten dollars worth of sole
leather. We believe in round dancing
for the old and yoong, round dancing
for the bond and free, round dancing
for male and female, rich. and poor,
[camed and knock-kneed ; round danc?
ing for everybody. except- the wooden
legged and the blind. They'll have to
get their bagging on a sofa in a station
iry position.
We.repeat it, we believe in round
iancingr-the rounder the better. We
believe in screwing the shoe soles of a
souple on to a pivot in the floor, and
letting them grab each other around
the waist and then turn the machiue
loose and let it spin like a top gone
mad, until the air is filled with hair?
pins, and cigars, and screams, and the
horizon is lurid with the streaks of red
striped hose. We believe io all sorts
of round dancing, from that in which the
?obie red mao, clad in a coat of axle
crease and a couple of rooster feathers,
iances around his disgusted captive,
removing bandfulls of the latter's hair
to the tune of low sad music, to the
20m e-hold-me-co til lion, the holy dance
rf the colored man and brother, which
be uses as a blind when he is holding a
?ampmeeting over his neighbor's shoats
md fowls.
Oh ! yes, dear young lady, put our
names down among^ those who believe
n perpetrating a round dance, when?
ever you get a chance. It's the only
:rick two can play and both wio. It is
:he only thing ever devised that will
induce a girl to stand up and let one
fellow hug her while fifty more, looking
)n, kill time in grinning and bearing
it, and singing softly to themselves,
"Oh I Jimmy, is your ash cake done ?"
We believe in round dancing in pref?
erence to all others, because the em?
brace is thrown in extra. We believe
in it under all circumstances except
jne. When we put a week's salary
into a pool to get np a pic nie, so that
we can get a chance to revel among
the rosy cheeked girls- in their teens
[ike a young colt in a barley patch, and
forget for a moment that we are being
sued for the suit we are trying to mash
in. When we do all this to get a
:hance to dance with a high school lass,
md one of t,he committee palms off an
jld maid on us for the next dance, who
tv cars a glass eye, that don't fit, and a
number nine shoe that does, and smiles
it us with some twenty dollar teeth, set
like an island in a sea of wrinkles wc
ion't hanker for round dancing longer,
?or square dancing either. We'll tell
pou what sort of a dance our great sym?
pathetic soul yearns after then. We
want to be placed face to face with the
Did relio, for a short time only. When
the baud begins to play, we want us
both to start to dance backward, and
lance like eternal fury until the horizon
shall hide us from each other's fond
gaze forever. Yes, Miss, round danc?
ing is a high old thing, and wc are in
for it, and uolcss in dishing out our
partners we- get a bag of boucs iustead
rf a belle. Tbems our sentiments,
rhank you for the flowers.
-?MIK -
The adjutant-geueral o? the army
puts the strength of the militia forces of
South Carolina as follows : General ofn
;ers, 8; general staff officers, 81 ; regi?
mental field and staff officers, 54 ; com?
pany officers, 328; non-commissioned
officers and privates, 4,036. This is
the regular organized troops of the State.
Ihe number of men available for duty
in the State is placed at 115,000. If
sailed upon we would be able to raise a
right respectable army.
--?-? ??
It don'i pay to bang one man because
mother sells him liquor. <
i
The Value of Machinery on Southern
Farms.
AN ESSAY BEAD BEFORE THE SUMTER AG?
RICULTURAL ASSOCIATION BY THE
* HON. J. J. DARGAN.
The following-Essay was read be?
fore the Sumter Agricultural Associa?
tion on April II, 1885, by- the Hon.
J. J.- Dargan. The Executive Com?
mittee assigned the .subject, which
was, ^'Implements best' suited to
agriculture in its present stage of
advancement with us
"Were' we required," says a
thoughtful English writer, "to char?
acterize this age of ours by any single
epithet, we should be tempted to call
it, not: an heroica!, philosophical,
devotional or moral age, but above all
others, the mechanical age. For it is
the age of machinery in every, out?
ward and inward sense of that word j
the, age which with its whole undi?
vided might forwards, teaches and
practices the great art of adapting
means to ends. Nothing is now done
directly by hand ; all is by rule and
calculated contrivance. For the
simplest operation some Helps and
accompaniments, some cunuing ab?
breviating process is iii readiness.
Old modes of exertion ar? all discred?
ited and thrown aside. On every
hand the living artisan is driven from
his workshop to make room for a
speedier inanimate one. The shuttle
drops from the fingers of the weaver
and falls into iron ones that ply it
faster. The sailor furls his sails and
lays down his oars, and bids a strong,
unwearying servant, on vaporous
wings, bear him over the waters.
Even the horse is stripped oi his har?
ness and finds a fleeter fire-horse yoked '
in his stead. Nay, we now have
artists that hatch chickens by ma?
chinery ; the very brood-hen is to be
superseded. For ali earthly, and for
some unearthly, purposes we have
machine and mechanical furtherances.
We remove mountains and make seas
over smooth highways. Nothiug can
resist us. We war with rude nature,
andby our resistless engines come off
always victorious and. loaded.with
sporls."
That this is a faithful picture of the
?g? we live in, -cannot he doubted.
That every age has its peculiar features,
its special line of development, will
scarcely be questioned by anywhere
present to day. That this has happily
been designated as the age of machin?
ery will be conceded. That it is the
part of practical wisdom to under?
stand the peculiar tendencies and
special lines of development of the
age one lives- in will not be contro?
verted. That for every failure to
place one's self in accord with the
line of ma rel w that events are taking,
a penalty is inflicted, is taught, wif.n
too much emphasis by every day's
experience to be seriously denied.
Therefore, ii iherttBfetubject, which
above all other sm^T should en?
gage the earnest. study of practical
men of this day and time, it is Ma?
chinery. Every department of human
industry is addressing itself assidu?
ously to the study of this great sub?
ject iu its competitive struggle, with
other departments^. Can agricultu?
rists afford to neglect it?. An em?
phasized no comes from the indepen?
dent farmers of the North, who are
holding their own against so many
disadvantages in climate and soil ;
and from the planlers of the great
North-west, who have amassed colos?
sal fortunes by cultivating the
soil.
Can Southern agriculturists afford
.to neglect it ? I answer by our sad
experience in the dark days from '61
to '65, when the powerful engines and
machines of Northern contrivance
were turned upon our brave, but
bare breasts, and willing but weak
arms, till we fell crushed beneath
their resistless force ; by our days of
tireless but fruitless effort ; nights of
anxious, but unavailing thought,
since the close of our dreadful war ;
by all our hopes for prosperity, pro?
gress, position and power in the
future, 1 answer no I no I no ! Far?
mers of the South, ray brother far?
mers of Sumter County, whose hard
struggles against adversity I have
shared and with whom I am in such
close symyathy, let me tell you, as
one whose convictions on this sub?
ject have settled firmly down into
the inmost depths of his mind, and
profoundly stir his most anxious
emotions, that there is but one road
for the South out of her peculiar pe?
cuniary, political and social trou?
bles and perplexities, and that can be
reached only by the general use of
improved agricultural machinery.
We always have been, and from the
veiy nature of things always must be,
an agricultural people. Prosperity
will never come to us except through
agricultural channels. This conclu?
sion is forced upon every one who
has reflected intelligently upon our
peculiarities of soil and climate, but
this is not the occasion, nor is the
task assigned rae in that field, else I
would be glad to pass over it with
you and demonstrate the truth of this
assertiou. It is enough for us to
know who are here to day that our
line is agricultural and our hopes rest
on agricultural development in the
South. Our fathers before the war
were misled into a preference of hu?
man labor to machine labor, and
frightful disasters came upon them.
Not the result of a destruciive war ;
not thc sadden abolition of their
slaves ; not "the days of good steal?
ing*' under Reconstruction. AU
these were attendant also upon that
fatal choice. But I refer particu?
larly to thc fact that prior to
the rebellion in the mere matter of
material growth, they were outstrip?
ped in spite of their incalculable ad?
vantages iu soil and climate by the
North, East and West, where ma?
chines were U6ed in preference to j
Africans. For ten years before the j
war the South was lagging behind in !
an industrial point of view so notice?
ably as to give her more enlightened
citizens the utmost anxiety. Thc
capacity of Norlhcrn and Western
machines in fields and factories was
ever increasing and multiplying their j
products aud resources while the:
study of ;?nrproved machinery v
stimulating and 'strengthening th
minds. But, alua I for the South,
capacity of the negro fr?d reached
lull growth and the effort ter increi
it only, strengthened the muscl?s
overseer's arms.
Young men of the South, I her
I our grand old slave-holding ancesto
who possessed so many lofty a
manly traits,of character, and I wot
indignantly resent any imputati
upon their honor or patriotism. E
in preferring human labor to machi
labor, they made a mistake of juc
meut, which brought, calamities: up
them and has entailed untold diffic
ties upon us. Convince** of th<
error myself, I propose to emula
their manhood and speak out free
my convictions. They prefern
slave negroes to machines, and v
have fallen heirs to their blunder, ai
that in a most aggravated form, 1
preferring free negroes to machine
And the exact measure of our adhe
ance to that notion is the exa
measure of our poverty and helplee
ness to-day. There are men in tl
South, there are farmers before n
to-day who scout the idea of adoptir
improved machinery on our faro
and ridicule 2-horse ploughs ar
8 horse ploughs and 6-horse plough
and riding cultivators and mowe
and reapers and engines and th res
ers, and say the old way is the bes
The negro is the only machine the
want. Bui, *ny anti-machine frien<
let me ask you, what would yo
think of a man who should establis
in this day and time a wagon trai
drawn by houses gn a dirt road i
competition with railroad cars au
steam locomotives ? What w?ul
you think of a stage line of old agaim
"the lightning express?" Whi
would you think of a g?vernmei:
whose mail transportation was don
by carrier pigeons ? llow would ol
looms, upon which sat our dear ol
mothers (God bless their innocen
souls!) pegging away with a.shuttle
compare with the grand factorie
rising around tis to-day ? How wool
the many oared barge of Venic
compare with a folly equipped steaii
boat on the Hudson ? How wool
the musical tom-tom of a few h und re
years back compare with our grant
pianos and organs?: Who would lik
to. go to war with sling? and cross
bows against an" enemy with repeal
ing rifles and Krupp guns ? To b
consistent, : the anti-machine : farme
must call for the crooked stick .im
?plement of our not very remoto
ancestors, called through courtesy^
plough, and say that ^pj^
to depend upon ?m E'n
work to 'a riding- il ^ph<
crooked stick midj^^^Rtterfor ;
ffiarkjvho woulc^PP^reasofl, for .
respectfi^^^Witthat he would b<
more of a Savage, than an enlightenet
Americau. I say without hesitatioi
that the class of men who in this daj
and time have set their.heads agains
the use of improved machinery ir
their line of business, no- matter what
that line may be, have set their feet
on the high, audopen road to poverty
.helplessness and contempt? Humar
arms against iron arms are feeble in
deed ! Human breath ag?iust steam
is soon exhausted L
"Harness me down with your iron bands,
Be sure of your curb and rein,
For I scorn the strength of your puny han ds.
As a tempest scorns a chain.
How I laughed as I lay concealed from sight,
For.many a countless hour,
At the childish boasts of human might,
And the pride of human power.
"When I saw an army upon the land,
A" navy upon the seas,.
Creeping along a snail-like band,
Or waiting the wayward breeze ;
When I marked the peasant faintly reel
With the toil that be daily bore,
As he feebly turned the tardy wheel,
Or tugged at the weary oar ;
When I measured the panting courser's speed,
The flight of the carrier dove,
As they bore the law a king decreed,
Or the lines of impatient love,
I could but think bow the world would feel,
As these were outstripped afar,
When I should be bound to the rushing keel,
Or chained to the flying car.
"Hal hal ha! they found roe ai last,
They invited me forth at length,
And I rushed to my throne with a thunder
blast,
And laughed in my iron strength.
0, then ye saw-a wondrous change
On the earth and ocean wide,
Where now my fiery armies range
Nor wait for wind or tide.
"Hurah! Hurab! the waters o'er,
The mountain's steep decline ;
Time-space-have yielded to my power,
The world, the world is niiue."
It is absurd to try to run farms by
human labor while all other branches
of industry are being operated by
improved and ever improving machiu
ery. The day that it is settled that
improved machinery cannot be suc?
cessfully used on farms, that day it ia
likewise as surely settled that farmers
must become the lowest mudsills of
societ3r. Men who work witli muscle
alone cannot expect to cope success?
fully with those whose bari ti s have
brought into their employ tirele?s
arms of iron and wood and the
niexhaustable breath of steam, lt is
clear that the farming classes cannot
reasonably hope to be respectable in
wealth, refinement and culture, if they
are to trudge behind old-fashioned
ploughs or dig with their hoes fur
their support. Surely, no man with
his senses about him can claim that a
man thus laboring daily and hourly
can himself acquire, or even retain,
refinement and culture, much less
afford these to his children. Our
Southern slave-hokleis said "yes" to
this, "and hence we justify the en?
slavement of the African." I will
not attempt to show the unsoundness
of this argument on any . grounds, !
moral or mercenary, but teilt attempt !
io show that, sound or unsound for j
them, it is supreme folly lor us lo use j
the same argument in regard to free j
labor that tiiey used in reference to
slave labor. Under the slave system j
the negro was a mere machine-au j
inefficient, cosily one, I'll own, but j
still a machine.
Now, with all the conditions favor- j
able to his use in this capacity ,
altered and gone, some of our farmers j
are still gravely arguing that he is !
the best machine to bu had on a
Southern farm. 1 submit that he is '
the most expensive 1 have ever seen !
used, and that our general use of him
down South, as a substitute for ma?
tt
ehinery is precisely the cause of bur
backwardness, and poverty to-day.
There can be no other good reason
assigned for our condition. Oar
crops are large, and the most valua?
ble in the world. Yet we. continue
poor, are growing poorer every day,
while fanners m far less favored sec?
tions; io soil and climate, are amass?
ing immense fortunes. I do not wish
to be ^understood as suggesting any?
thing in this connection against the
negro a3 a laborer. ' He has some
faults, and pretty serious oue3, but
the main trouble down South'lies at
the doors of the white people, lt is
the improper use we make of negro"
labor. We expect entirely too much
of the"negro. We don't work enough
ourselves, with our own hands ;
employ negro labor in. the' place of
machines, and then complain that :
uegroes are inefficient, won't work,
and that farming don't pay, and is a
f)oor busines for sensible men to fol
ow, &c. Don't yon suppose, my
friends, that the man, or set of men,
who should undertake to run a train :
of wagons, drawn by horses, on a dirt
road, in competition with the Wil?
mington, Columbia and Augusta j
Railroad would find it a poor busi- 1
ness? The horses might be the .
best in all the world, the wagons i
without equals, the road matchless, i
still they would be horses and wag?
ons on a dirt road against engines ?
and cara on iron. The negro against <
the Chicago screw pulverizer,-riding t
cultivator?!, mowers, self-binding i
reapers and horse rakes, grain drills j
and droppers is quite as abf-urd ! 1
"No, the fault is in onrselvesy not <
our. stars, Brutus,, that .we are un- i
derlings." We can't rail at the
negro/, it is all our fault that the ]
negro is what he is to-day. When 1
we leach, him howto use machinery <
he will , run it for us successfully ;
perhaps. .We don't know yet how .
he will succeed with this kind of 1
work, for we have not tried him. 1
We have not taught him, arid we 1
cannot teach him around our firesides i
in the winter and under the shade ]
trees in the summer. We c?n't i
leave a' manure-spreader with him, j
with a short word or two- of explana-' ".
tion and expect him to ran it while
we go fishing or hunting, or to the 1
cross-road store and whittle sticks all 1
day, while our tongues never cease 1
wagging about the worthlessness of j
the negro. We have got to go out 1
and come in with pur machines for '.
days and diye toget^^a^iuy^^J
wet or dry. If tl)e negro oa^^WP
^yveathejLtk^w'bite man oog?t'i. "
!Wfctf*n7?d toi?ay he cannot. If
will attend properly to our-business ?
we will find that negroes can assist . '
us in the nae of machinery, and thus, !
and thus only, can we so use negro 1
labor so as to make it profitable.
My observation, as I before said, !
is that cur mistake is in depending >
entirely ton much on: the negroes.
First. . We should depend wholly on
ourselves so far as seeing daily,, hour* 1
ly after the work ; and learn the proper 1
use of the machines now in vogue by *
personal observation and experiment. !
For there is no argument needed to 1
convince a man, who can add np .
figures, that every place he can. use '
horse-power in the place of human .
hands he s?ves the wages of those
bands, and every place he can ;
use machine power in the place: of
horse power be saves, the food
consumed by the horse. The horse 1
eats, but draws no wages-the '
machine neither eats nor draws wages,
and the negro both eats and draws
wages. The negro has to have a
much more costly . and expensive
house to protect him from the weather j
tlian the most expensive end delicately
constructed machine. The negro !
burns your wood, (and sometimes
your posts, rails and palings.) The
machines need no fire. The machine
is not liable to disease, back-ache,
head-ache and all the other aches that
flesh is heir to j wants no rest ; can be
regulated to work without varying
for days together, with exactness,
accuracy and precision ; is entirely
under your control as to the hours it
must come to or leave off work ; does
not have to step iu to the fire on cold
or wet days, orto Sumter on election
and emancipation days ; does not have
to work roada or attend Courts or ,
prayer meetings during week days ;
does not scold your horses and excite
and injure them, or talk back at you
when you Demean it for bad work.
So take it all in all, the machine labor
is infinitely cheaper, and far less vex?
atious than any negro labor I have
ever tried. But I apprehend you
will say that the chief obstacle to the
rapid adoption of machine labor in the
place of negro labor in the South is |
the fact that cotton is the main crop
with us, and cotton picking has to be
done by hand. If this be the true
cause of our tardiuess in adopting im?
proved machinery, and I really think
it is, then cotton, King Cotton, has
proven the. most unkind ruler in all j
History. Ile has done nothing but
rule and ruin the South. Eli Whit?
ney's gin placed cotton on the throne
and fastened negro slavery, as his
prime ministes, upon the South, and
between them they have dragged us
down from the loftiest to the lowest ,
point of influence and wealth among ;
the Slates of this Union. Eli Whit- ,
ney, a great, gifted and imniortal
genius, unwittingly made colton our ,
master. Who will make it our hum?
bie servant ? I pause for a reply. .
All hail to Sumter's proud gift to.
thc poverty-stricken South ! AI y word t
for it, Charles T. Mason, Jr., will do
more within the next ten jcars to ;
elevate the South to her rightful posi- ,
tion among thc Stales ; more toward ?
relieving her of poverty and depen- ?
dence ; more toward removing the 1
negro question from politics *, more to- .
ward the deal h and burial of the bug- t
bear of social equality, than all of our j
politicians together could accomplish '
for the next fifty years. Right here !
in our midst lives and moves and ?
labors one (nighter than Cleveland or j
Hampton to help us. If we but saw j,
more deeply into tho real causes at j
work fixing the course of human j
events and selling our social and j
political arrangements, our interest in j
the big political shop over which Mr. .
Cleveland presides would wane iri
the .same proportion as that m
Masoni Bumble shed increases. ? We
would listen less intently to words
from Honorable Senators iha?to.tb.e
clinks of ' Mason's hammer.^."VV^?
would watch not hilf so eagerly for
the latest appointments; from Wa?n
ington, as for the last improvement in
the Cotton Picker. "There is ?'c
question," says a thoughtful writer,'
"that both in nature and society the
quiet forces are the strongest, and toe'
most thorough in their work and per?
manent in their effects; and that re?
forms brought about almost nncon*
scioosly are oftentimes the farthest
reaching.* The results of a slighi
change in the mental habits of a legis?
lature may outweigh the consequent,
ces of Vw'ar.0, '"Bonaparte walked
through the war-convulsed world
like air all devouring e?ttb?ju?ke-^*
heaving, thundering, hurling king?
dom over kingdom i while Goeth?
was the mild, shining, inaudible light?
which will again m'ake'this chaos into
a new creation.. Thus, too; we see
Napoleon with his' .Aust?rlfrzeS*
Waterloos and Borodinos is" qa???*
gone, all departed-sunk to silence1
like a tavern brawl. While this other
-he still shines with his" dir?ct~Tacf??
?nee. His inspired words' are td
abide in living hearts as the life and
inspiration of thinkers born and still
unborn. Some fifty years hence Acts'
of Parliament will be passed in virtue
of him ; this man, if we consider of it,
ts appointed to be the ruler of th?
flrortd." There ?s nofwant?ng testi?
mony from the most philosophical stu
lents of history and thoughtful obi
servers of- human events' that Eli
Whitney :; wasr the most'important'
person of th is century ; that his invenV
tion affected more profoundly than any
other occurrence of the past hundred
pears the course of affairs in ? menea/
Maculay, Webster and Wendell Phil*
lips," among the many others, have1
left no doubt as to their estimate of
the momentous .consequences of the
invention of the cotton giru.; Macau?
lay enthusiastically weighs the bene*
Stsjpf Witney'8 work for America?
against that of Peter the Great fot
Russia', wrtti . the balances down on
Whitney's side. . So I trust;. I witt
Dot be set down as insane : when I as?
sert that the- success of Mason's Co t?
ton Picket is a matter of infinitely^
greater importance to thc South than
the election of Mr. Cleveland7t& the
Presidency; All: honor* to Grover -v :
Ryeland, the truest man tha^^a?^ **
|^^feo*~the^?f??io^^
^^^uincy Adams left it. But tire,'
wl^of justice in me makes me say,
greater honor to the genius of Charle?
I1. Mason, Jr., whose labors for tho
South, will be profoundly felt when?
the superficial effects of Cleveland's*
impartial administration have passed',
away. Tes, and the name of Cleve?
land will grow dim in history at the '
point where that of Mason will shine;
the brightest. For more and more
are students of history coming to un?
derstand' that, after all, kings and
queens and presidents and governors
and official personages in general ar?
but leaves op the current of events set
in motion by great Gbd-belped genia?
ses like Whitney and'Mason, Prank?
linj Moree and Fulton. ' ' . .'
Finally, gentlemen of the Associa*
ation, let me say, that I regard the
work taken in hand by this Associa?
tion as of greater consequence to the
County than that of any other organic
zation, however noble its mission, ia
the County at this time. Every
man's patriotism can be measured by
the assistance he gives it. We can
do no harm. We hope to do great
good. If we we succeed in teaming
but a few young men how. to . lrit
successfully on farms-draw ?beat
away from useless employments to the
most, useful and least hurtful that I
know of-take them from the street?
corners, from barrooms, from billiard
tables, from low scheming for psliti- .
cal place, and show them.that they,
can live prosperously and happily on
farms, by adopting the methods of in?
telligence and study-that earnettf
work is the only true road to morel?
and mental, elevation-we will not
have labored iu in vain.
"Get leave to work,.
IQ this world 'tis the befc? yon get at ali ;
For God in cursing gives better gifts " ,
Than man ia benediction. 'God says sweat ~
For foreheads ; mea say crowns, and so we
are crowned ;
As gashed by some tormenting circle of steel,'
Which snaps with a secret spring-get work,.
. get work.
Be sure it is better than what yon work to
get."
By the use of improved machinery,
work on the farms becomes most, de
lightful and exhilarating, and gives
as much mental occupation as physi?
cal exercise. 1 am sorry, time is not
afforded me to specify mach ines, that
I have found labor-savi.rg and -profita*;
lile. But all this may be brought out'
in the discussion which As -to follow^
this reading, which is only intended'
to open the subject for debate. !'!'
have used walking cultivators, har- -
rows, pulverizes, reapers, mowers,^
horse-rakes, &c, and .will be pleased^
to answer any questions cancering
them you may desire to propound.
- -i i mm* '
A brutal murder was committed io.
Carmichael township,. Marion County, .*
on thc 1st iust?nt. The circumstances
as reported are as follows: Thomas
Dean and one Mays, laborers 'oo thc *
plantation cf Mr. J. G.. McCall, were"
leading their mules out of the lot to
work when Mays kicked Dean's mule *
Dean's anger was aroused at this and
threatening to burst Mays'a brains out
be took the singletree from his plough/T
advanced upon Mays and struck him a"
crushing blow upon the head, which
fractarcd his skull. Dropping the sin- '
gletrce Dean then seized Mays by the ~
throat and struck bim. several Wows^
apon the face with his fist. Mays died
two days afterwards.
. There have bees many greater mas-;'
ters of the art of war than Grant among '
his contemporaries, say? the LondoU:
Telegraph, and thc tremendous Amarla f?*v
can struggle itself developed more thajjr/
one lender who was technically^^j?f?
perior. Ile had close ri?als.wk i?* ???
side, and on the other '?erfrifose dis?
tinctly above him the c!?iy?lrous fiTT .
of Robert E. Lee. . ^rv^.
-, - -. -?.?* ?