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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8476143 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #67756 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67756) diff --git a/old/67756-0.txt b/old/67756-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 2f2507e..0000000 --- a/old/67756-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7255 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Bob Taylor's Magazine, Vol. I, No. 2, -May 1905, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Bob Taylor's Magazine, Vol. I, No. 2, May 1905 - -Author: Various - -Release Date: April 1, 2022 [eBook #67756] - -Language: English - -Produced by: hekula03 and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images - made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOB TAYLOR'S MAGAZINE, VOL. -I, NO. 2, MAY 1905 *** - - - - - - - Bob Taylor’s Magazine - - $1.00 a Year. Monthly. 10 Cents a Copy. - - - - - Contents for May, 1905. - - - ═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════ - FRONTISPIECE—The Robert E. Lee Monument 122 - - ADDRESS TO OLD CONFEDERATES _Robert L. Taylor_ 123 - Illustrated with photographs. - - IN THE DARK _Grace MacGowan Cooke_ 128 - Story. Illustrated by Mayne Cassell. - - THE SPINNER. (Poem) _Eloise Pickett_ 133 - - MEN OF AFFAIRS 134 - Illustrated with photographs. - - COTTON AND WAR _Richmond Pearson Hobson_ 140 - With portrait of author. - - THE MASTER-HAND. (Poem) _Garnet Noel Wiley_ 144 - - THE BOY IN GRAY _Will N. Harben_ 145 - Story. Illustrations by Lamira A. Goodwin. - - SONG. (Poem) _Robert Loveman_ 152 - - THE PEOPLE OF THE SOUTHERN MILLS _Leonora Beck Ellis_ 153 - Illustrated with photographs. - - THE MERRY LADY. (Story) _Roger Pocock_ 159 - - A ROYAL RESIDENCE _James Henry Stevenson_ 165 - Illustrated with photographs. - - THE FINEST HOTEL. (Story). _A. Lytle Peterman, Ph.D._ 173 - - INDEFINITELY POSTPONED _Eva Williams Malone_ 180 - Story. Illustrations by Mayna Treanor Avent. - - TO ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. (Poem) _Isabella Howe Fisk_ 183 - - TRAINING SCHOOLS IN TENNESSEE AND THE South - _J. H. Kirkland, D.C.L., Ph.D._ 184 - Illustrated with photographs. - - THE FOREIGN WIFE _Claude M. Girardeau_ 192 - Continued story. - - WHEN NELLIE SMILES. (Poem). _D’Arcy Moore_ 196 - - SERIOUS PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE TO-DAY - _Charles Baskerville, Ph.D._ 197 - With portrait of author. - - “THE MESSAGE OF THE VIOLET.” (Story) _G. D. G._ 201 - - WHOSE TEMPLE YE ARE. (Poem). _Isabella Howe Fiske_ 202 - - LYRICAL AND SATIRICAL—Conducted by Vermouth 203 - - EDITORIAL 206 - FRENZIED POLITICS. A TALE OF A LECTURE TOUR. - FOOLISH DREAMERS. - - LEISURE HOURS 213 - - BOOKS AND AUTHORS—Conducted by Mrs. Genella Fitzgerald Nye 221 - - THE FIDDLE AND THE BOW _Robert L. Taylor_ 225 - Continued. - - SOUTHERN PLATFORM 227 - - THE HUMOROUS, THE PATHETIC AND THE DRAMATIC. - THE MYSTERIES _James Hunt Cook._ - THOMAS JEFFERSON AND THE AVERAGE MAN _Dana C. Johnson._ - THE LYCEUM PLATFORM _Dr. James Hedley._ - ECHOES FROM THE FIELD. - A GREAT LECTURER _Opie Read._ - ═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════ - - Copyright 1905 by The Taylor Publishing Co. All rights reserved - THE TAYLOR PUBLISHING COMPANY, Publishers, - _Vanderbilt Law Building_, Nashville, Tenn. - - - - -_BOB TAYLOR’S MAGAZINE ADVERTISEMENTS._ - - -THE WONDERFUL ELECTRIC CANDY MACHINE - -WHICH TOOK THE PRIZE FOR “NOVELTY OF INVENTION” AT THE WORLD’S FAIR. ST. -LOUIS, MO., 1904 - -THE CANDY MADE BY THIS MACHINE IS ABSOLUTELY PURE. - -[Illustration] - -Granulated sugar is poured into the spinner and is instantly changed -into flossy filaments of PURE candy without the touch of a contaminating -finger. - -Our machines are NEVER SOLD but leased for a period of ten years, giving -Lessee EXCLUSIVE control of the territory leased. - -At Los Angeles, Cal., our Lessee made and sold 850 ten cent packages of -FAIRY FLOSS candy in one day from one machine. - -Four FAIRY FLOSS candy machines which were operated at the Mechanics’ -Pavilion, Boston, Mass., for twenty days in October, 1904, earned in that -time $1,750.00. - -Our Lessee in Minneapolis, Minn., sold in seven days from one stand -running one machine, $205.00 worth of FAIRY FLOSS candy. - -Our Lessee in Nashville, Tenn., sold $60.00 worth of FAIRY FLOSS candy -from one machine in one day. - -A pound of sugar will make sixteen packages of FAIRY FLOSS candy, such as -was sold at the World’s Fair for ten cents each. - -Our machines are fully protected by patents, dated January 31, 1899, and -January 6, 1903, and other patents pending. - -Like money and other good things, our machines are being imitated. - -The Public is Warned that machines not having this name plate are -infringements and users are liable to prosecution: - - THE PROPERTY OF - THE ELECTRIC CANDY MACHINE COMPANY, - Nashville, Tennessee, U. S. A. - - Candy machine patented Jan. 31, ’99; Jan. 6, ’08. - Motor patented Oct. 14, ’90; Nov. 10, ’91. - - GENERAL ELECTRIC COMPANY, U. S. A. - - FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ADDRESS - ELECTRIC CANDY MACHINE COMPANY, - NASHVILLE, TENNESSEE. - -_In writing to advertisers please mention Bob Taylor’s Magazine._ - -[Illustration: - - EQUESTRIAN STATUE OF ROBERT E. LEE AT RICHMOND. -] - - - - -BOB TAYLOR’S MAGAZINE - - ─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── - VOL. I MAY, 1905 NO. 2 - ─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── - - - - - ADDRESS TO OLD CONFEDERATES. - - By Robert L. Taylor. - - Delivered at the Confederate Reunion at Brownsville, - Tenn., in August, 1902. - - -Time in its tireless flight has brought us again to the full leaf and -flower of another summer. The grass grows green about the dust of heroes; -the roses twine once more about their tomb, and the morning-glories -point their purple bugles toward the sky as if to sound a reveille to -our immortal dead. Another year with its sunshine and its shadows, its -laughter and its tears, its sowing and its reaping, its cradle songs and -funeral hymns, now lies between us and that dark day at Appomattox when -the star of Southern hope went down and the flag of Southern chivalry was -furled forever. Another year has added whiter locks to the temples of -those old veterans who wore the gray, and deeper furrows to their brows, -and they now stand among us like solitary oaks in the middle of a fallen -forest, hoary with age, covered with scars, and glorious as the living -monuments of Southern manhood and Southern courage. - -[Illustration: - - SAM DAVIS. -] - -But we are not yet far enough away from that awful struggle to forget -the bloody hills of Shiloh, where Albert Sidney Johnston died, and the -fatal field of Chancellorsville, where Stonewall Jackson fell. We are -not yet far enough away to forget the frowning heights of Gettysburg, -where Pickett’s charging lines rushed to glory and the grave. We are -not yet far enough away to forget Murfreesboro, Missionary Ridge and -Chickamauga, and the hundred other fields of death and courage, where -the flower of the South, the bravest of the brave and the truest of the -true, fought for the cause they thought was right, and died for the land -they loved. We are not yet far enough away to forget the agony and the -tears of a nation that was crushed when the shattered armies of Lee and -Johnston, weary, half-starved, bare-footed and in rags, stacked their -arms in the gloom of defeat, and left the field of valor overwhelmed -and overpowered, yet undaunted and unconquered. When time has measured -off a thousand years, the world will not forget the sufferings and -the sacrifices of the brave men who so freely gave their fortunes and -shed their blood to preserve the most brilliant civilization that ever -flourished in any land or in any age, for literature loves a lost cause. - -[Illustration: - - ALBERT SIDNEY JOHNSTON. -] - -Historians will some day sit down on our battlefield and write true -history—history that will surpass the wildest dreams of fancy that were -ever woven into fiction; and poets will linger among our graves and sing -sweeter songs than were ever sung before. For each monument is within -itself a volume of wild and thrilling adventure, and every tombstone -tells a story touching as the soldier’s last tear on the white bosom of -his manhood’s bride, tender as his last farewell. - -I would not utter a word of bitterness against the men who wore the blue. -They fought and died under the old flag to perpetuate the Union, and they -were men worthy of Southern prowess and Southern valor. I would not, if I -could, rob Grant, the great and noble chieftain, of his fame and glory. -Every Southern soldier ought to stand with uncovered head when his name -is spoken. For when all was lost, in the darkest and saddest moment of -Southern history, he was magnanimous to Lee, and kind to his famished -and shattered army. Along the blue lines of the triumphant foe, when the -unhappy Confederates marched between them and laid down their guns, there -was no shout of victory nor flourish of trumpets, but only silence and -tears. - -When the conflict had ended the Confederate soldier proudly stood among -the blackened walls of his ruined country, magnificent in the gloom of -defeat, and still a hero. His sword was broken, his home was in ashes, -the earth was red beneath him, the sky was black above him; he had placed -all in the scales of war and had lost all save honor. But he did not sit -down in despair to weep away the passing years. - -His slaves were gone but he was still a master. Too proud to pine, too -strong to yield to adversity, he threw down his musket and laid his -willing but unskilled hands upon the waiting plow. He put away the -knapsack of war and turned his face toward the morning of peace. He -abandoned the rebel yell to enter the forum and the court room and the -hustings. He gave up the sword to enter the battles of industry and -commerce, and now, in little more than a third of a century, the land of -desolation and death, the land of monuments and memories, has reached the -springtime of a grander destiny, and the sun shines bright on the domes -and towers of new cities built upon the ashes of the old, and the cotton -fields wave their white banners of peace and the fields of wheat wave -back their banners of gold. - -Who can portray the possibilities of a country that has produced the Lees -and Jacksons and the brilliant Gordon and the dashing Joe Wheeler, who is -as gallant in the blue as he was glorious in the gray, and the impetuous -and immortal Bedford Forrest, the Marshal Ney of the Confederacy? Who -can portray the possibilities of a country which has produced the -stalwart and sinewy men of the rank and file, who followed the stars and -bars through the smoke and flame of every desperate battle and stepped -proudly into history as the greatest fighters the world has ever known?—a -country so richly blessed not only with brave men and beautiful women, -but whose blossoming hills and fertile valleys are so generous and kind, -and whose mountains are burdened with coal and iron and copper and zinc -and lead enough to supply the world for a thousand years; whose virgin -forests yet stand awaiting and sighing for the woodsman’s ax, and whose -winding rivers flow clear and cool and make music as they go. It is the -beautiful land of love and liberty, of sunshine and sentiment, of fruits -and flowers, where the grape-vine staggers from tree to tree as if drunk -with the wine of its own purple clusters; where peach and plum and -blood-red cherries and every kind of berry bend bough and bush and glow -like showered drops of rubies and pearls. It is the land of the magnolia -and the melon, the paradise of the cotton and the cane. - -They tell us now that it is the new South, but the same old blood runs -in the veins of these old veterans and the same old spirit heaves their -bosoms and flashes in their eyes; the same old soldiers who wielded -the musket long ago are nursing their grandchildren on their knees and -teaching them the same old lessons of honor and truth, and the same old -love of liberty. The mocking-bird sings the same old songs in the same -old tree, and the brooks laugh and leap down the same old hollows. It is -the same old South and we are the same old Southern people: - - There may be skies as blue, but none bluer; - There may be hearts as true, but none truer. - -[Illustration: - - STONEWALL JACKSON. -] - -It is the same old land of the free and the same old home of the brave. -It is the same old South resurrected from the dead, with the prints of -the nails still in its hands and the scars of the spear still in its side. - - “I’m glad I am in Dixie, - Look away! Look away! - And live and die for Dixie, - Look away! Look away! - Look away down South in Dixie.” - -Within the borders of this fair land of Dixie the finest opportunities -for investment and the richest fields for enterprise ever known in the -Western Hemisphere are now open to all who wish to come and help us to -make it blossom like the rose. A new development has already begun. -Thirty years ago there was not a factory in South Carolina. To-day she -is spinning and weaving more cotton than she raises and is second only -to Massachusetts in the manufacture of cotton goods; and North Carolina -and Georgia have made equal progress with South Carolina in this new -idea of making the South not only the leader in agriculture, but also -in converting our raw material into finished articles of commerce and -trade, and thus saving to our section countless millions of wealth. In -the mountains of south-western Virginia, south-eastern Kentucky, East -Tennessee, North Alabama, where the sunshine plays hide and seek with -the shadows, and where many rivers are born, there is a beautiful valley -six hundred miles in length and from one to thirty miles wide. Until -a quarter of a century ago the principal product of that country was -children. The people did not realize that the north rim of the valley was -almost an unbroken vein of coal and that the South was an exhaustless bed -of iron, and they placed but little value on the vast parks of timber -where the ax had never gleamed, but now the dynamite has just begun to -jar the silent hills and the forests have just begun to fall. Birmingham -is making the sky of night red with the glare of her furnaces, and all -the way up the valley to the new city of Roanoke new furnaces are being -lighted and new industries are developing, and Huntsville, Decatur, -Chattanooga, Knoxville, Johnson City and Bristol on the line, will soon -be great manufacturing centers, where the pig iron and the logs of -hardwood that are now being shipped away to be converted into finished -articles will pass through our own mills and we will cease to be the -fools we have been in the past, buying furniture made in foreign cities -out of our own timber and all the implements of agriculture made out of -our own iron. - -[Illustration: - - GENERAL GORDON. -] - -Until twenty years ago the sons of Mississippi, Louisiana and Arkansas -were contented to sit on their verandas and watch the “nigger” and his -lazy mule in the cotton field and listen to the melodies of the old -plantation. But now the mills of Mississippi are beginning to mingle -their music with these melodies, and the marshes of Louisiana are being -converted into rice fields and she is making enough sugar to-day to -sweeten the tooth of the world. Arkansas is building factories and -opening her mines and mineral wealth, and sawing down her great forests -of pine. At the close of the Civil War Texas was a wilderness, but now -the howl of the wolf has given place to the whistle of the engine, and -the whoop of the Indian has been hushed by the music of machinery. From -Texarkana to El Paso prosperous cities and towns have sprung up like -prairie flowers where the wild horse once galloped and the buffalo -grazed, and great geysers of coal oil have solved the fuel problem. - -In the full development of this new idea of transforming our raw material -into finished goods lies our hope of regaining our prestige and power -in the management of national affairs, and of winning back billions of -wealth which were wiped out by the destroying angel of war. God grant -that our beloved old South may be as happy in reaping the golden harvest -of prosperity in the years to come as she has been brave and true through -the suffering and woes of adversity in the sorrowful years of the past. - -And now, my grizzled old friends who once wore the gray, in the name of -the young men I congratulate you upon having lived to see the dawn of -a brighter day for your battle-scarred and war-swept country. You must -soon answer to the roll call of eternity and join your comrades on the -other side. I give you the pledge of your sons that they will ever defend -the record you have made and themselves live up to the traditions of -their fathers. In the name of our women, both young and old, I implore -the blessing of the Lord upon you, and pray that as the dews of life’s -evening are condensing on your brow and the shadows of the long, long -night are gathering about you, you may linger long in the twilight, with -loving hands to lead you and loving hearts to bless. - -[Illustration: - - HARRISON’S GIFT AT CAMP CHASE. -] - - - - - IN THE DARK. - - [Illustration] - - By Grace MacGowan Cooke - - -Virginia sat late at her work. Or rather, she sat before the desk -which contained her work and fought the battle which is as old as our -conception of a woman’s duty. She had that day listened to words of love -from a man whom her heart rose up to answer—she, betrothed to Parke -Winchester. Hasn’t a woman a right to change her mind? Ah, but Parke—his -salvation as well as his happiness was in her hands! Had he not told her -so a hundred times? Was he not drinking hard, and going straight to the -dogs when she was coaxed into this secret pact with him? If she let him -go, if she pushed him away from her, would he not fall lower? Could she -ever forgive herself? - -Then, she was uneasy about Fair; her young brother was evidently finding -companions who did him no good. Twice he had come home of late so much -under the influence of drink that she was put to the utmost of her powers -to keep the matter from her father. She had no mother, she and Fair were -the only children. In her desperation she had gone to Winchester; he -would know, he would understand. She remembered the feverish eagerness -with which he had answered her. - -“You know, of course, Virginia, that I haven’t touched a drop since you -promised to marry me. I can’t bear the thought of the stuff now. But I’ll -hang around some of the places where it’s sold and catch up with Fair. I -can help him. I can save him for you, Virginia, honey, because I’ve been -there myself.” - -Now, if she broke her word to Winchester she was losing more than her -lover, for he had added fiercely, “But if you cast me off, if you -break with me, I’ll go straight to the devil. You’ve got that on your -conscience, little woman. I’ll go, and I’ll take Fair with me if I can. -You’ve got the souls of two men in your keeping, for if you were my -wife—as long as you have promised to be my wife—I’d as soon think of -stealing a Bible from a church as taking a drink of whisky.” - -Then came the thought of the other man, whom she could really love—the -man who would save his own soul and not ask the sacrifice of a woman’s -happiness for his salvation. Yet, she reasoned, it was a marvelous thing -that her influence should have kept her betrothed from even the desire -for drink. She half wished for a moment that influence were not so great. -Then she reproved herself, sighed and pushed the heavy, dark hair from -off her forehead. A vagrant, scuffling sound from the hallway outside -kept intruding upon her consciousness. Finally the little intermittent -noise secured her attention, and then she thought a dog or a cat must -have been left inside when the house was closed for the night. She -stepped to the door, to be met by a shambling, bowing old figure, and -Uncle Vete’s deprecating, apologetic face. - -“I hates ter ’sturb you, li’l Mis,” he protested. “I hates might’ly ter -’sturb you; but dey’s trouble out to my house—I spect you knows ’bout it, -honey.” - -Virginia drew back, took up her lamp and motioned the old man to follow -her downstairs to the dining room. “Don’t wake father, if it’s about -Fairfax,” she cautioned. “It would only hurt his feelings, and make a bad -matter worse.” - -“Yas, baby chile, dat des’ what Vete was fearin’.” They stole softly -to the dining room, and stood there confronted in the lamplight, the -tall girl in her white dress, and the wizened little old negro in his -comically ill-fitting broadcloth, hat in hand. - -“You see ’t ’uz dishyer way: Marse Fair, he come out ter my place dis -mawnin’—you know, Mis’, he train wid a feller what allers come out dar -when he git ter spreein’. I uzzen’ dar. ’Ouldn’t ’a’ been no trouble ef -I’d a’ been dar. Unk’ Vete can manage de bofe of ’em, tell dey git too -bad.” - -“Who was with my brother?” inquired the girl sharply. - -The little old black man stole a side-long look at his interlocutrice. He -was a slave, born on the Sevier plantation, body servant to her father, -General Sevier, in whose discarded wear he now stood; and loyalty to the -name warred in him with that freemasonry which keeps the male silent -about the shortcomings of another male, when speaking to the woman who -most needs to be warned of them. - -“Dey dest one feller lef’ wid Marse Fair,” he mumbled. “Dey wuz a whole -passel o’ boys dis mawnin’. But dem yutheh boys tuk an’ went home, whiles -dey could walk. An’ I cain’t git Marse Fair to move.” - -“Well, Uncle Vete, I’ll put on my things and go with you,” said Virginia, -with sudden resolution. “I can manage Fair.” Returning, hat in hand, she -had the curiosity to inquire, “How did you get in, Uncle Vete?” - -“W’y, yo’ cook lady hyer, she a sisteh in de ‘Ban’ o’ High and Glor’ous -Wardens,’ an’ I b’longs to de same division; an’ she lef’ me in, honey; -she lef’ me in.” - -“Did you drive?” - -“I come ’long er’ ol’ Belzybug an’ de cyart.” - -“And Beelzebub has made two trips to-day,” added Virginia. “He must be -tired. Put him in the barn, Uncle Vete, and we’ll get a street hack as we -go down past Summer Avenue.” - -“An’ have ol’ Marse askin’ quisti’ns ’bout dat mule in de mawnin’? No, -ma’am. No, li’l lady. I got a frien’, down de road hyer a piece, what -keep a wagon yawd. I gwine leave dat mule dah, Miss Ginnie.” - -The streets were quite deserted; it was near twelve o’clock. Virginia was -glad that she met no one, though the little old black man bobbing after -her was as efficient an escort and protector as she could have had. The -street hack of the small Southern city is most commonly a vehicle of the -family carriage style; probably many of them have descended from the -estate of domestic privacy. One found, its sleeping driver wakened, his -gaunt horse prodded into action, Virginia leaned forward, and began to -ask Uncle Vete further questions in a carefully lowered tone, as he sat -beside the driver. - -“Is he worse than before?” - -“’Bout de same, honey, des ’bout de same. I is saw ’um mo’ ’rageous; an’ -ergin, I is saw ’um less ’rageous. ’Bout so an’ so, honey. Des ’bout so -an’ so, Miss Ginnie, chile.” - -“You say there’s some one with him; are they inside the house?” - -Uncle Vete grinned, and twisted in his seat. “Yas, honey,” he admitted, -finally. “Dey bofe inside de house, an’ de fambly, dey on de outside. Dat -whut mek me come fer you dis time er night.” - -“Do you mean that they turned you out?” - -“Yas, honey. I foun’ Cindy an’ de chillen all turn’t out an’ blockaded, -an’ young Marse a shootin’ th’oo de do’ ef anybody speak ter ’im.” - -Virginia leaned back in silence. The crazy old vehicle creaked and -rattled over the rough road. Its one sorry horse made slow progress. - -Fairfax Sevier, less than two years older than his sister, Virginia, was -a handsome, brilliant, lovable young fellow, endeared to her by the same -qualities and the same odd unexpected little lapses and weak spots which -endlessly charmed and perplexed her in her father. - -The general was a peculiarly high-minded, honorable man, with all in his -character that makes for good citizenship. He had brought through a youth -which was not without its little scattered patches of wild oats, and a -famously dare-devil military career during the Civil War, an unpollutable -vein of childlike innocency. It was not that he failed to see evil, or to -know it and understand it. But he saw and knew these things as a child -does, intelligent, but unsoiled. - -His most marked characteristic was a determined disposition to meddle -with the affairs of no human creature, to refuse authority, because it -implied responsibility; to let—as he felicitously phrased it—every fellow -go to the devil his own gait. - -This trait made him, among his children, always more a brother than -a parent, and was most amusingly displayed during their infancy and -childhood. He would stand aloof from a small offender who was weltering -defiantly in infantile crime. Bending his handsome head, he would look -from his very considerable height down to the little sinner before him, -and addressing it in the most confidential tone of perfect equality, -remark: - -“You’re making a pretty mess of things there; now, aren’t you? Think you -want to bust that, do you? Do you know, you’re going to be mighty sorry -when you get done this business? And like enough your mother’ll spank -you, too.” - -When, as had occurred twice of late, Fair was led to participate in wild -sprees, this was scarcely the father to whom an appeal for assistance or -the exercise of salutary authority would be addressed. Virginia could -hear him saying, with a flash of those big dark eyes, “Well, well, -Ginnie, I can’t keep him in a glass case, just because he happens to be -my son. Let him see the folly of it. Let him find out whether he wants -to be a drunkard or not. Every man must do that for himself. Your -conclusion—or mine—that he doesn’t want to do this sort of thing, isn’t -valid. It could not be incorporated into his character. He must be free -to make some selection of his own.” - -Arrived at the cabin, a belated, waning moon showed them the little hut, -dark and silent. “I boun’ y’ Marse Fair done break dat lamp. Hit ’uz -burnin’, time I lef’,” muttered the old man. - -The sound of their wheels brought a dusky, straggling group to the gate. -The nucleus of this group was Uncle Vete’s last wife, a round-faced -young mulatto woman, with a baby in her arms. About her churned and -bobbed a tribe of various sizes, part of them clinging to her skirts and -whimpering sleepily. - -Cindy was a cheerful soul, with a giggle ready to burst forth upon the -slightest provocation, or no provocation at all. Virginia glanced in -distress at the baby. “Oh, Cindy,” she cried, “poor little thing! Why, -it’s too bad for you to be out here in the night air with that young -child.” - -“He ain’t des’ so overly turrible young, Miss Fa’ginny,” returned Cindy -with her comfortable chuckle. “De big chillen mo’ skeerter dan whut he -is.” - -Virginia, full of indignation, sprang from the carriage. “Tek keer, -honey!” cautioned Uncle Vete, as she hurried through the yard. “Dey’s -th’ee o’ my youngest sleepin’ dah un’neath dat ’simmon tree.” - -Avoiding the slumberers beneath the persimmon, Virginia made directly for -the door. - -“Hol’ on! Hol’ on! My precious chile! Yo’ gwine get yo’se’f shot!” urged -Vete. Cindy screamed, and all the children who were awake began to wail -in concert. - -Like a sensible girl, Virginia stood aside from the panels, back where -the heavy logs protected her. (“An’ one dem shots might sail th’oo de -chinkin’ des’ easy ez not!” Cindy whimpered.) She struck on the door and -cried, “Fair—Fairfax! Open this door!” - -The answer came in the form of a bullet. - -[Illustration: - - “Buddy,” she said, huskily, “Buddy, dear, I brought a hack out for you.” -] - -At the report, Cindy uttered a yell so efficient and comprehensive that -Virginia supposed her no less than mortally wounded. The children, even -those lying so soundly asleep on the ground that they had not been -wakened when Virginia stepped almost upon them, rose up and fled to their -mother’s wide-spread, sheltering arms, like a brood of alarmed chickens -fleeing from a hawk. - -“Eph’um! Bandoline! Baxter! Pearline! Commodory? Whey is you-all—whey is -you-all? Oh, Lawdy! _Lawdy!_ I is got mo’ child’en dan dis! I _knows_ I’s -got mo’ child’en dan whut dis is! Young Marse done kill some on ’em!” -rose Cindy’s excited shriek. - -There came a second shot, before Virginia rapped again, crying angrily, -“It is I, Virginia. Put up your pistol and open the door!” - -After a very long silence within the hut. “I ’spects dey done napped -off,” mildly suggested Uncle Vete. Virginia was preparing to knock again, -when a little gust of wind arising, the door swung silently open, showing -that it had been unbarred for some time. - -Virginia stepped into the room, carrying one of the carriage lamps and -unheeding Uncle Vete’s caution to “Go easy, honey, an’ holler ’fo’ you -git inside, so dey know who comin’.” - -Fair’s companion lay sprawled upon the gay patchwork quilt of Cindy’s -best bed. He was, or pretended to be, sleeping heavily. The hack driver -would have to be called if he was to be roused and gotten into the -vehicle. - -At the table, his head among half-filled and empty glasses, and the wreck -of a poker game, sat Fairfax Sevier. Virginia went with averted eyes past -the bed to her brother, and shook him by the shoulder. - -“Buddy,” she said huskily, “Buddy, dear, I brought a hack out for you. -Can you walk to it?” - -“Who’s goin’—take care—Parke? Parke’s been drinkin’,” explained poor -Fair, with something like a whimper. - -Virginia turned to the bed; and contempt fell cool upon her suffering. A -face in drunken slumber is not calculated to command respect, even to win -much sympathy. - -The girl took the shock like the daughter of warriors that she was. “Does -Parke Winchester drink now?” she inquired, finally, of the negro. - -Again Vete stole that quick, side-long glance at her. “I ain’t never -knowed de time Marse Parke quit,” he returned finally. “He might fool de -white folks ’bout hit, but he ain’t take dat trouble wid de niggers. Him -an’ Marse Fair been at my house mo’ dan onct lately.” - -Parke, then, had not only never given up his drinking; he had been -actually initiating Fairfax Sevier into the great and inglorious guild of -topers, while he deceived the sister with promises that he would find who -it was Fair drank with and look after the boy. - -She was free; but not yet could her heart rise to the knowledge. The -bowed, boyish figure before her, the degradation of that sleeper upon the -negro’s poor bed—these left her very pitiful. “He’ll be quiet and behave -himself now, Uncle Vete.” she said; “I’ll take Fair with me—we can’t move -him,” indicating Winchester. “Let him sleep.” - -“O, yassum, yassum. He be all right in de mawnin’. He been all right -ternight, ef I could jest er got hol’ ’er ’im. Dishyer negoshulatin’ wid -’er man th’oo er do’, an’ him er doin’ his talkin’ wid er gun, hit’s -unsartin kin’ er wuyck.” - -Still in a daze Virginia picked up a pistol from the floor, turned the -cylinder to see that it was unloaded, and dropped it into the pocket of -Parke’s light overcoat. - -At the action, Fair showed his first consciousness of her presence -“You’ll get yourself shot one—these days, Virginia,” he muttered, half -irritably, half penitently. “—’dvise you—let such things ’lone.” And one -could not have said whether he meant, by this, her present handling of -the firearm itself, her former reckless demand that he open the door, or -her presence on such a scene. - -Uncle Vete assured Virginia that he would look after Parke for the night, -and would see that he reached home in the morning. She gently declined -the old man’s offer to return to town with her, and promised to send -Beelzebub out by Sam, Cindy’s eldest, who was acting as house-boy at the -Sevier home. The drive in the night air, and Virginia’s presence somewhat -sobered her brother. “Does dad know?” he asked, as they neared home. - -“I didn’t wake him,” responded Virginia. - -Fair turned, as he lay with his head against her shoulder. He was -beginning to be deathly sick—the end of all Fair’s essays at drinking. -“You’re a good girl, Virginia. Mighty good girl. I reckon you’ll get your -reward in heaven.” - -But, driving home under the stars, freed from a self-imposed bond, warned -that she might in future protect this well-beloved sinner whose head lay -on her breast, ready now to accept the love of the man she loved, with no -shadow on her conscience—Virginia felt that she had her reward here, now -and in this world. - - - - - THE SPINNER. - - BY ELOISE PICKETT. - - - Wearied to death of my thoughts! - Is there none, in this epoch of wondrous wares, - Will sell me a fair, sweet dream? - - I summoned my spirit, this morn, to be chid - For her endless weaving of gloom; - But she lifted me retrospective eyes, - Burning and dry (for the tears, dammed back, - Have found them a pool in my heart); - Her face was wan, and her mouth was set - In the hard, thin line of resolve. - And I left unsaid my stern rebuke, - But her answer cried loud in her mien: - “_I_ weave; but the warp and the woof are thine; - Thou madest them yesterday.” - And so I watch, with sickening hope, - As her busy fingers ply - ’Mongst threads from the throbbing Other Days, - And wisps from the ominous Days to Come, - And skeins from the stagnant Now. - - Wearied to death of my thoughts! - Is there none, in this epoch of cunning skill, - Can weave me thought-fabrics fair? - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - MEN OF AFFAIRS - - - Joseph W. Bailey. - -One of the most youthful members of the government’s gravest and -most august legislative body is Senator Joseph W. Bailey, a typical -representative of the biggest, the breeziest and the most untrammeled, -if not the most patriotic and progressive commonwealth in the Union. A -natural leader, an orator of plausibility and power and a politician -of resource and acumen, he is besides admittedly one of the ablest -constitutional lawyers in public life. - -Though a native of Mississippi and a legal product of Cumberland -University, Tennessee, Senator Bailey is a Texan seemingly to the manner -born. He looks, speaks, thinks and feels Texas, and having won his spurs -so creditably in the congressional jousts his people have gratefully -recognized his talents by entrusting him with the higher responsibilities -of senator. - -While Senator Bailey is a virile product of the present and coming -generation in the South he has not been inclined to relinquish the -habits, dress and thought of the passing regime and his picturesque -personality is doubtless as readily recognized by resident of and -visitor to Washington as any other public character of the times. In -no particular do his old-school propensities more emphatically display -themselves than in his native love for rural life and natural objects. -His chief hobby comprises the maintenance of an expansive estate whereon -he rears the sportive thoroughbred, so dear to the heart of the rural -Southerner, and whereon he spends in the open very much of his leisure -time. - -Senator Bailey is a close student of men, politics and affairs, and -is of the South, social, though he has no taste for the conventional -society of the city. - - - James D. Porter. - -For nearly half a century has the Honorable James D. Porter figured -eminently but modestly as a public servant politically, civilly and -commercially. A native of Tennessee, in which State he has spent nearly -all of his eventful life, he was born at Paris, in 1828, and was admitted -to the bar in 1859. With a disposition toward the public service, from -a State legislator he became a circuit judge, and from the bench he -ascended to the gubernatorial chair, which he was twice called upon to -occupy. His large and worthy talents coming to the notice of President -Cleveland, he was invited during his first term to serve as Assistant -Secretary of State, which he did with such satisfaction as to receive -during the President’s second term his credentials as the government’s -official representative to Chili, in which capacity he attracted -attention by his tactful reestablishment of friendly relations between -the two countries. - -In the active commercial affairs of life he has been likewise prominent, -being sometime president of the Nashville, Chattanooga and St. Louis -Railroad Company, and as a soldier of the gray he gallantly participated -in many of the fiercest conflicts of the war as Adjutant General under -General Frank Cheatham. - -[Illustration: - - HON. JOSEPH W. BAILEY. -] - -In 1901 he was selected by virtue of his wide experience in affairs, -executive ability, character and attainments, as the most suitable head -of the great Peabody benefaction to the cause of Southern education, -and he is successfully rounding his period of long and devoted public -service to the administration of this popular munificence as President -of the Peabody Normal College and University of Nashville. With every -assurance of early success he is now engaged in raising from the State of -Tennessee, the City of Nashville, and by popular subscription, $250,000 -which, when attained, will carry with it a permanent endowment of a -million dollars from the Peabody estate. President Porter is a man of -distinguished bearing and impressive address. - -[Illustration: - - JAMES D. PORTER. -] - - - Joseph W. Folk. - -Missouri’s young governor has received probably more free and favorable -publicity than any other citizen of the Republic, and the public is so -well informed as to his life and record that anything said of him here -would be merely cumulative and by way of favorable repetition. It is -gratifying to command the approval of friends and partisans, but it is -a delicate and trying obligation to have to live up to the encomiums of -non-partisans and erstwhile opponents. With nothing but good said of -his ability and integrity, Governor Folk’s position in politics, which -now has a decided national aspect, presents a most interesting field of -speculation to the student of politics and affairs. - -First coming into local prominence in St. Louis as an able and fearless -criminal prosecutor whom a powerful and never-before-thwarted partisan -political machine could not influence or intimidate, Governor Folk -developed into national prominence through his relentless warfare upon -the local boodling regime, his successes influencing municipal reforms -throughout the country and rendering him so strong with the masses of -statesmen regardless of political complexion, that they triumphantly -elevated him to the gubernatorial station in the face of an otherwise -astonishing landslide in the other direction. - -[Illustration: - - JOSEPH W. FOLK. -] - -Governor Folk is a native of Brownsville, Tenn., where he was born about -thirty-seven years ago, and is a product of purely Southern environment, -rearing and education. Graduating from the Vanderbilt University law -school fifteen years ago, he started at about the lowest and roughest -rung of the ladder, a struggling young country lawyer in his native -town. In quest of opportunities more in keeping with his talents and -ambitions, he soon joined the large Tennessee colony in St. Louis, not -long thereafter attaining to some local notice as a political leader by -being elected president of the representative Democratic organization. - -[Illustration: - - WARREN A. CANDLER. -] - -It is truly said that all great human successes are a combination of -fortuitous circumstance, and the genius to take advantage thereof. -Governor Folk’s mastery of a complicated local situation wherein he -represented a supposed hopeless political movement, turned seeming defeat -into a brilliant victory, and he was elected District Attorney, since -which time his record is known to the country at large. - - - Warren A. Candler. - -A virile and dominant figure in Southern religious life is Rev. Warren -Akin Candler, youngest bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. -Of a family probably second to none in Georgia from the standpoint of -the prominence of its sons in public life in that State to-day, Bishop -Candler was born forty-eight years ago in Carroll County. Educated -at Emory College, from which he graduated with first honors in 1875, -he immediately entered the ministry, ascending rapidly the ladder of -ecclesiastical promotion from the humblest rural circuit to the most -influential urban charge. From presiding elder of the Dahlonega and -Oxford districts he served for two years in the editorial field as -assistant editor of the _Christian Advocate_ in Nashville. In 1888 he -was called to the very large activity of presiding over the destinies -of Emory College, his _alma mater_, which institution enjoyed during -the decade of his administration its highest period of strength and -usefulness. - -With a distinguished record in all vital departments of his church -labors, Bishop Candler’s early elevation to the bishopric when barely -past forty years of age was a merited and logical testimonial to his -eminent capacity for religious leadership and organization. This exalted -promotion came to him at the hands of the Baltimore Conference of 1898. - -Besides being a pulpit orator of vigor and lucidity, Bishop Candler -is a luminous expositor of secular themes and has rounded out a very -busy career by producing several well-known religious and general -publications, including a “History of Sunday Schools,” “Georgia’s -Educational Work,” “Christus Auctor,” “High Living and High Lives,” and -“Great Revivals and the Great Republic.” - -Bishop Candler’s official residence is Atlanta. - -[Illustration: - - RICHMOND PEARSON HOBSON. -] - - Richmond Pearson Hobson, who contributes the following - thoughtful paper to the MAGAZINE, is so well known to our - readers that it is hardly necessary to say anything here by way - of comment upon his eventful history. Since his retirement from - the navy, Captain Hobson has devoted much attention to political - affairs, and it is safe to predict that his services to the - public will be marked by the earnestness and devotion to duty - which brought him his well-merited fame as an officer in the - United States navy.—ED. - - - - - COTTON AND WAR. - - [Part of an address delivered by Mr. Hobson before the Cotton - Growers’ Association last January.] - - By Richmond Pearson Hobson. - - -The price of cotton, like other prices, is settled by the relation -of supply and demand. In face of the sudden depression, due to the -increased volume of supply in the large crop, we are liable to overlook -and underestimate the importance of the factors influencing the demand. -Sojourning about the world has convinced me that the factors of demand -are more pliable and more accessible than those of supply. In truth, a -single factor reducing demand, the war in the Orient, is responsible -for depression amounting to from 7 to 8 cents a pound, while the total -depression due to the big crop is scarcely more than 3 cents a pound. - -Furthermore, the question of adjusting the supply for the next year, -cannot be intelligently settled until after investigation of the probable -demand. - -Therefore, I invite your attention for a few minutes to the question of -demand, and especially to the factor of war, since we are now in the -presence of the great struggle in the Orient. - -The old sources of demand, Europe and America, have gone on slowly -increasing with the increase of population, and the rise of the standard -of comfort, though a check was sustained by the outbreak of the Boer War, -which saw a falling off of over one million bales in the consumption of -the united commodities. This slow increase in demand has been more than -balanced by the steady increase in supply, coming chiefly from the larger -acreage and larger increase of commercial fertilizers in the South. -Consequently, for several decades the price of cotton has had a steady -trend downward. It was only when new demands came from new markets that -the price started upward. The chief of the new markets are those of the -Orient. Japan has made great strides in the cotton mill industry, until -at the outbreak of the present war, she was consuming over $50,000,000 -worth of cotton annually. - -But more important even than Japan, has been the new market of China, -which, when the present war came, amounted to $90,000,000 annually, -chiefly coarse cotton goods, of which a large part has been furnished by -Southern mills. - -These two markets have come to consume more cotton than is produced by -Alabama and Mississippi combined. It is not surprising, therefore, that -in spite of the steadily increasing production, the price has steadily -risen. The rise has been especially marked since the Boxer disturbances -that were followed by a new impulsion in the opening up of China. - -As great as this new market has become, it is only in its infancy. - -If China were opened up, free to the commerce of all nations, its four -hundred and thirty millions of industrial people, would rise from a five -cent wage basis to a 20 cent, 30 cent, or even 40 or 50 cent basis, and -the average man, instead of having his present outfit of about a half -suit of cotton clothes, would have four or five whole suits, which are -pulled on in multiple numbers, according to the coldness of the day. -This would so increase the world’s demand for cotton that even with a -20,000,000 bale crop, the price could be hardly kept down to 20 cents per -pound. - -The picture here disclosed is not visionary. Thousands of Chinese worked -under my inspection for months reconstructing gun-boats at Hong Kong. The -above estimates of their industrial capacity are conservative. Knowing -both peoples, I do not hesitate to say that the industrial capacity of -a Chinaman is far greater than that of a Japanese, while there are over -ten times as many Chinese as Japanese. Moreover, the facilities for -communication are advancing. The eyes of the world have been thrown upon -China, and the point of the wedge has been entered. A few decades can -see marvelous growth in this young giant of a market. I estimate that -before this century is half turned, China, properly opened up, will add -more than $5,000,000,000 annually to the world’s commerce, and one of -the chief staples of this commerce will be cotton, first the goods, then -the raw materials, creating a consumption as great as that of all Europe -combined. - -But this greatest of all coming cotton markets is the most sensitive -and the most exposed. When war broke out in the Orient last year, it -was clear that Japan and Russia, under the exhaustion, would decline -in buying power, and that the thriving cotton trade of Manchuria would -be cut off entirely, while the fate of China might become involved and -endanger the whole Chinese market. Consequently, the day after war was -declared, cotton slumped 5 cents a pound, and started on its downward -path, going off nearly 8 cents a pound before indications came in of the -large crop, which brought about a further decline of about 3 cents a -pound. - -The grievous depression we are passing through must be attributed to the -war in the Orient. Without war cotton would now be from 12 to 15 cents -per pound, even with the big crop. Think what prosperity this would have -meant. Can anyone contend that the United States should be indifferent to -this war? It may be pointed out that our diplomatic moves were masterful, -both in getting the powers to commit themselves to limiting the war zone, -and to preserving the integrity of China, and also in negotiating, by -cable, treaties with China, not Russia, opening up Mukden, Dalny and -Antung, in Manchuria, thus recognizing Chinese sovereignty, and placing -the United States in the same attitude as Japan, in standing for the -evacuation of Manchuria. Unfortunately, our diplomatic moves had but -little deterrent effect, not being backed by an adequate navy. Had we -possessed an adequate navy, I am bold to say that Manchuria would have -been evacuated and the war would not have come to disturb the earth and -bring the present depression over the Southern people. - -It is hardly necessary to point out that our losses already incurred -would have covered many fields over the cost of such a navy. - -But as great as are these losses they cannot compare with the greater -losses that may lie ahead, if the present drift of events should go -unchecked and lead to a general war over the division of China. - -Naturally, the Continental powers of Europe do not wish to have to -compete with our industrial nation on the basis of an equal footing in -this great market. They have, therefore, combined to seize China by -force, and partition it among themselves, leaving the industrial nations -out. - -The first step taken in this direction came at the conclusion of the -war between China and Japan, when the Continental powers intervened to -despoil Japan of the fruits of victory, preventing the consummation -of the treaty of Shimonosoki, that would have ceded to Japan part of -Manchuria, including the Liaotung Peninsula with Port Arthur. Soon Russia -came to occupy the same territory wrested from Japan, Germany seized -Kiaochao, and part of the Shantung Peninsula, Italy attempted to seize a -Chinese port, and France became active on the frontier of Indo-China. - -The next step in the seizure of China is planned for the present war. -Indeed, the seizure of China is the very purpose of the war, and to this -end Russia is conducting her war operations. - -The chief aim of this year’s campaign has been to change the public -opinion of Europe. Thus it is that Russia has conducted a pre-arranged -system of retreats, and that the inspired press of Europe has raised the -hue and cry of “Yellow Peril,” with such success that the peoples now -stand with their governments on the side of Russia. The combination is -ready to move, and we can expect renewed reports of Chinese violation, -of neutrality, of Chinese disturbances and Japanese intrigues in China, -Russia reporting upon the affairs in Mongolia, France upon the affairs -in Kwangsi, and Germany in Shantung and Chili. The agents of these -powers will probably facilitate and exaggerate the Chinese disturbances, -and then upon the pretext of preventing massacre and a general Chinese -uprising, the armies by pre-arranged program will enter and occupy the -Provinces of China, never again to leave. - -Opposition on the part of Great Britain is evidently anticipated, and the -inexplicable seizure of British ships, followed later by the inexplicable -firing upon British fishing vessels, appears as part of a plan to excite -British indignation, so that at the opportune moment, the British may be -the more easily provoked to commit an act of war which would at once put -into operation the Russian treaty of alliance with France, and this would -be the signal for Germany, Austria-Hungary and Italy to join Russia and -France. - -Thus the present war is producing a grouping that imperils the balance -of power, placing a heavy preponderance on the side of the military as -against the industrial nations or on the side of war as against the peace -forces. No thoughtful observer can fail to see here all the elements for -a world war; nor can we look except with alarm upon the declination by -the military powers of the interstate to the proposed second convention -of The Hague, and the Russian note complaining of alleged violation of -neutrality by China. It is idle to imagine that the United States, the -foremost industrial power, with more at stake in the Orient than any -nation, could look on with indifference. - -We should awaken to the full significance of the events gathering in the -Orient. The two antagonistic systems, militarism and industrialism, are -gathering for a death struggle. The Orient is the battle ground—China is -the objective. - -If militarism succeeds in intrenching itself upon the yellow race, -securing the myriads upon which to levy for men and for means, then it -will perpetuate its harsh reign for centuries yet to come. - -On the other hand, if thwarted in obtaining the spoils of war and left -simply to a fair competition, militarism will be unable to hold its own, -and will be driven to the wall, and be compelled to disarm by the great -economic forces of commerce and industry, and we can then confidently -expect the establishment of general and enduring peace long ere this -century is gone. - -What would be the effect upon cotton? - -If peace is restored and maintained, cotton will start again upon its -upward course and in a few years, with such a vast demand as China would -create, I am conservative in saying that the price would pass the 20 cent -mark, and remain above this mark, no matter how large the crop. - -On the other hand, if events are allowed to drift on and a general war -comes, cotton would become a drug on the market, even though reduced -acreage, calamity and distress would spread over the South. Indeed, with -militarism uppermost, wars and rumors of wars would continually disturb -the world, nations would be exhausted and lose in their buying capacity, -and the myriads of helpless peoples would pass under the military yoke -and remain unable to buy clothing. The greatest source of Southern -prosperity would be permanently blighted, and a serious blow would be -struck at the general prosperity of America, and at the happiness of -mankind. - -Under these circumstances, when it is a question of 3½ cent cotton or 25 -cent cotton, I do not hesitate to say that the solid influence of the -South should be felt for having our country act promptly and vigorously, -to use every proper means to restore the balance of the world on the -side of peace, and to bring about the ending of the present war and the -restoration of Manchuria to the commerce of the world. - -It only remains for us to refer summarily to the factors of supply. It -is practically certain that the South will continue to produce the bulk -of the world’s cotton. During the Civil War, when cotton was over $1.00 -a pound, persistent efforts were made all over the world to develop -cotton growing, but in vain. The Gulf Stream on one side, and a vast -continent on the other, produce climatic conditions for cotton culture -not duplicated anywhere else in the world. We may expect some increase -in the output of Egypt on account of developing irrigation, and possibly -a temporary increase in the output of India, and other secondary sources -due to the recent high price, but the present depression will tend to -check this movement. Therefore, the South may be expected to continue to -produce over 80 per cent of the world’s supply so that the question of -supply lies in our own hands. - -The two factors in determining the supply are the seasons and the -acreage. While the general law of the average holds, history shows that -the temperate zone is liable to wide fluctuations in seasons, which it is -impossible to foresee. The recourse to offset the unhappy consequences of -wide fluctuations is a reservoir or fly-wheel, into which the fat years -can pour their supplies for making up the deficit of the lean years. The -uncertainty of cotton demand, hinging upon war or peace, is now added to -the uncertainty of the cotton season. Recourse to storage is therefore -absolutely necessary, and a wide system of warehouse storage should be -created. I will not endeavor to go into the details of such a system, but -venture to suggest that it should be organized on bedrock principles, -and operate on the securest lines, so that a warehouse certificate would -be absolutely safe and universally negotiable. Lessons could probably be -learned from the systems in use in pig iron storage, where the market -is also subject to wide fluctuations. The American Pig Iron Storage -Warehouse Co. would probably be the best pattern. - -The factors of acreage should be carefully investigated before any -radical action is taken. - -I know it is best for a farmer to have a diversified crop as it is best -for a city to have diversified industries, and it is wise for a farmer, -like a nation, to produce the necessities required for home consumption. -The present fearful depression will doubtless have a partial benefit -in this direction, but I fear too much importance is now being given -to this question. While I would urge the farmers to diversify their -crops, I would hesitate to recommend a sweeping reduction in the world’s -production. In fact, as an economic principle, there can be no such thing -as over production at this stage of the world’s progress, particularly -in the great world’s staples, like those of food and clothing. For -generations to come mankind, on the whole, will go hungry and half -naked. The true principle is not to try to reduce the product but to -provide for a general increasing buying capacity and particularly for -the case of the undeveloped peoples of the earth, by increasing their -opportunities to work for the world’s market, and to make the wages -necessary to purchase the products. If we could only be sure that peace -is to prevail, so that the market of China would be restored, and could -go on increasing, I would not hesitate to urge against any reduction in -acreage. On the contrary, I would urge a steady increase, for no matter -how great the increase, the supply would never keep up with the growth of -demand. As conditions now stand, however, I believe conservative action -is advisable—action that would lean rather toward the side of preparation -to store up for future use the surplus, if war should come, than to -materially reduce the acreage, and my advice to the individual farmer is -to become independent and diversify his crop, and then plant his usual -acreage in cotton. - -It may be pointed out that one effective way to offset the losses from -low-priced cotton is for the South to invest more and more in cotton -mills, that benefit from these prices, and the logic of the situation -would have cotton growers invest their available capital and saving in -cotton manufacture. The true aim of the South should be not only to -produce the cotton, but the clothing for the world. And every country in -the South should have cotton mill industries organized with local capital -and should develop and educate its labor for the high grades as well as -coarse. - -Summing up, the general conclusions and recommendations are as follows: - -1. The cotton growers should have a wide, permanent organization with a -general convention once a year. - -2. A standing committee composed of, say, two members for each cotton -growing state, should be appointed to investigate and report each year -upon the existing and prospective conditions of supply of cotton. - -3. A similar committee should be appointed to investigate and report -each year upon the existing and prospective conditions of the demand for -cotton. - -4. There should be established a comprehensive and carefully organized -storage warehouse system. - -5. The great agents for increasing the price of cotton are _peace_, -prosperity and civilization. - -6. The arch-enemy of the cotton growers is _war_. The permanent cause -of cotton must look to the peoples beyond the sea, especially China. -The fate of China hangs upon peace or war—peace or war depends upon -America—America’s influence depends upon her navy. - - - - - THE MASTER-HAND. - - BY GARNET NOEL WILEY - - - Sometimes at half-mast, all my hours - A drooping banner seem to lie - In listless folds, along the calm, - Still blue of boundless stagnancy. - Grieving, I think, because somewhat - Within my soul is near to die. - - Enow the master-hand of Love - Plucks at my banner’s guiding string, - Until it flutters in the breeze, - And pulses like a living thing. - Joyous, I think, because somewhat - Within my soul hath need to sing. - - - - - THE BOY IN GRAY. - - By Will N. Harben, Author of “Abner Daniel.” - - -One day in midsummer I went to visit the old plantation of the Lansdale -family. The moment I entered the cooling shade of the tall trees on the -lawn something seemed to tell me that I was on a spot hallowed by human -suffering and misfortune. - -The house had two stories and an L. There was a long veranda in front, -the roof of which was supported by large white columns. My interest in -the place was due to the fact that prior to the Civil War it had been -the rendezvous of the aristocracy for miles around it. The wide halls -and spacious rooms had once rung with gay laughter, sweet music and the -tripping of feet in merry dances. - -Behind the uninhabited dwelling the shrubbery had grown into a riotous -tangle. Choice rose bushes had been dwarfed and choked to barrenness by -an army of interlopers—Jamestown weeds, hollyhocks and giant sunflowers. -Only here and there might be seen a pale-leaved geranium or a dandelion -in the edges of the gravel walks, now almost completely overgrown. Here, -bent to the earth, lay a decayed lattice, pulled down by a fragrant -jasmine; in another place stood the rotten remains of what had once been -a graceful summerhouse. - -As I wended my way further from the old mansion the silence and shade -seemed to thicken and blend into the pervading melancholy. When about -two hundred yards from the house, I suddenly came upon a log cabin -almost hidden from view behind a close growth of gnarled and twisted -apple trees. In the door sat an old negro man. His face was pinched and -wrinkled and his eyes, peeping through their brown slits, looked like -blue beads. With his old bell-shaped hat on his knee, he glanced up in -surprise, and, rising quickly he hobbled towards me, bowing politely. - -“Who dis heer?” he asked, as he shaded his eyes with his hand and peered -up at me. “It seems like I don’t know you, but you may know who I is. -Most white folks knows me, dough, thank de Lawd! I carn’t see you good, -suh; my sight is failin’ me powerful fast.” - -“I’m a stranger in this part of the South,” I told him. “I have heard -so much about the Lansdale family that I wanted to see their old home; -that’s all. I hope I’m not intruding.” - -“Lawdamussy, bless you, no, suh!” he replied quickly. “You is welcome -to roam ’round all you want. Ef ’twuz des in de ol’ time, suh, my young -marster, er my ol’ marster, would done met you down de carriage drive an’ -’scort’ you in an’ took yo’ hat an’ pass roun’ de wine an’ cigars, but” -(a long sigh escaped his lips, and he shook his head sadly), “but dat -time done gone, suh—dat time done gone.” - -“Tell me something about your master’s family,” I said, taking a chair -near his own at the cabin door. “I have heard that Mr. Lansdale’s only -son was killed during the war when he was hardly more than a child.” - -“Dat so, suh,” the old man answered in a tender tone, as he sat down in -his chair and leaned it back against the wall. “Dat was Marse Eddie. He -wasn’t fifteen year old when he ’listed. It all come o’ him actually -itchin’ ter be a soldier from his cradle up. Long ’fo’ de war was ever -start up, when he wasn’t ten year old he had soldierin’ in his head, an’ -nobody couldn’t stop ’im. His maw say he wouldn’t study his school books -lessen dey tell ’bout wars an’ bloodshed. Away back den Marse Eddie’s -soldierin’ was de chief talk ’mongst de slaves. - -[Illustration: - - “He wasn’t fifteen year old when he ’listed.” -] - -“He didn’t keer fur hosses, ur fishin’, ur huntin’ like other boys, but -ef you des mention soldierin’ he would pick up his ears an’ open his -eyes. He used to had his army, an’ what you reckon dat army was made -out’n, suh? Nothin’, ’cept ten ur ’leven pickaninnies in deir shut-tails -an’ bare laigs. But, suh, dey would march round dis plantation tell dey -raidy to drap in deir tracks to please dat boy. An’ dey didn’t know no -mo’ ’bout what a rail army was dan a blind kitten. But ’fore he got thoo -wid um, Marse Eddie had um trained so dey will march straight in er -breast-line, ur wheel round, double-quick step, an’ charge bayonets when -he give de command des de same as reg’lar troups. - -“Des as soon as he had his breakfust in de mawnin’ Marse Eddie ’ud tramp -out’n de house wid his hat pinned up on one side an’ his pants stuck in -his red-top boots an’ old Miss’ shawl flung acrost his shoulder to make -’im look like a general. - -“He would al’ays find his army at de front do’ pushin’ an’ kickin’ one -’nother, all um tryin’ to be haid in de row. But when dey see ’im dey -stand mighty quiet kase he done whacked deir laigs too often wid his -stick sword. Den Marse Eddie ud stand on de veranda wid his maw ur Miss -Grace long side o’ him while he call de roll. It uster sound mighty funny -’fo’ any of us know how it was gwine to end. - -“James Lansdale! Heer! Thomas Lansdale! Heer! Abrum Lansdale! Heer! Tobe -Lansdale! Heer! an’ so on dey all answered deir names. Old Marster listen -to ’em one day while he was smokin’ on de veranda an’ low to ’im, he -did—des jokin’: ’Son’, he say, smilin’ like he al’ays did, ’I do hope -an’ pray you won’t have no diverses in battle, kase it would be too bad -to had we-all’s kin-folks in Firginny read in de papers dat so many -Lansdales is kilt in war. Seem like dey is a sight of um in yo’ army.’ - -“Young Marster didn’t say nothin’ but it sorter made ’im mad. He got raid -in de face, an ordered de string o’ darkies to shoulder deir stick guns -an’ march off todes de spring-house, whar he say he count on campin’ out -an’ ’rangin’ ’bout buildin’ abridge cross de branch so dey kin git at de -enemy prowlin’ round. Dat’s de way he carried on, an’ all de darkies in -his crowd held deir haids so high dey wouldn’t speak to de niggers on de -place j’inin’ we-all’s plantation, an’ dey got so triflin’ dat dey wasn’t -fittin’ fur anything but fightin’ under Marse Eddie. - -“Miss Grace cert’ney did keer mo fur her brother dan she did fur anything -in de worl’, even de young mens dat come to see ’er. Anything Marse Eddie -do is des right. She made ’im his newniform, an’ flags, an’ his raid -sash, an’ gloried in ’im. - -“He was off in Firginny at his uncle’s when de sho-nough war broke out. -Old Marster had done made up his company in we-all’s settlement an’ was -most raidy to go. De very same day dat de guns come dat dey was waitin’ -on, who shall ride up on a hoss des reekin’ wid sweat but Marse Eddie. He -lef’ de hoss in de front yard an’ run in de dinin’ room whar his maw an’ -sister was. He kissed um mighty quick an’ strange like an’ den say, ‘Whar -is father?’ - -“Old Miss an’ young Miss bofe turn pale an’ trembly, but dey ain’t say -a word at fust. Den Marse Eddie say powerful impatient, ‘Grace, whar is -father?’ - -“‘He’s down in de quarter,’ she say an’ den when de boy done lef’ de room -most as quick as a skeerd rabbit kin jump, de two women look one ’nother -in de face fer a long time powerful still an’ troubled. Den old Miss say, -mighty husky in ’er throat: - -“‘He must not go, Grace; I carn’t stand it; he’s too young—I carn’t stand -dat!’ - -“De tears was comin’ in young Miss’ eyes an’ she left ’er maw an’ went -an’ stood in de kitchen do’ to meet Marse Eddie an’ his paw as dey was -comin’ up de garden walk, talkin’ low an’ arm in arm. Somehow young -Marster looked like he was all at once as old an’ ’sponsible as his paw. -When dey was bofe in de house, Miss Grace tuck ’er brurr by de arm an’ -led ’im off to one side, an’ I heer ’er say: - -“‘Brurr Eddie, father is goin’ off to fight de Yankees an’ me’n mother -carn’t live by ourse’ves. You must stay wid us—one is enough to lose.’ - -“‘Oh, sister,’ Marse Eddie say, very impatient. ‘Don’t talk nonsense at -sech a serious moment. Father, did you say all yo’ men gwine be raidy in -de mawnin’? We must not had no mistakes. I’m not tired. I believe I’ll -git a fresh hoss an’ ride round mongst ’em.’ - -“Well, suh, dat was de end o’ de women folks tryin’ to ’fluence ’im. It -seem to me dat he was every bit an’ grain as sensible as his pa. It look -like Marster was too backward ’bout tryin’ to make ’im stay at home. De -next day all marched off an’ dey tuck all de men slaves ’cep’ me. Dey -lef’ me kase I was too lame to march an’ somebody had to stay at home. - -“Den a whole year went by. Sometimes letters ud come an’ sometimes word -ud reach us in one way an’ another. Den old Miss tuck down sick, an’ Miss -Grace kept all de bad news from ’er ’bout de war. Den come a letter from -Marse Eddie hisse’f. He writ dat he is a little wounded in de arm an’ dat -he got a furlough to come home an’ will be wid us as soon as he kin git -thoo de lines. But de time went by, day in, day out fur a week an’ no mo’ -news ’cep’ old Marster writ dat de boy is done put out fur home some time -back; so dar we is—old Marster say he ain’t in de war, an’ he ain’t got -to we-all. - -“While we-all in dis fix an’ worriment, de Yankee army des swoop down on -us lake a swarm o’ grass-hoppers. Dar wasn’t a single Rebel ’cep’ women -folks an’ me anywhars around. Den we know dat Marse Eddie is cut off fum -us. While de Yankees is camped round us as thick as fleas, a old man come -to us, he did, an’ said he’d met up wid Marse Eddie one day up in de -mountains what you kin see over dar, an’ ’at he was mighty nigh starved -to death an’ unable to git stuff to eat. - -“Marse Eddie tol’ de man ’at he’d started home on his furlough but was -tuck down sick at a house on de way, an’ when he got so he could travel -an’ come nigh home de Yankees done s’round us so he earn’t git home nur -back to his regiment nuther. So he was des obleeged to stay hidin’ out in -de woods like a wild animal. Dis news got, to ol’ Miss, an’ it made her -wuss an’ we ’lowed she gwine die sho’. - -“One night I woke up kase I heerd somebody walkin’ on de porch, an’ when -I went to de do’ dar is young Miss standin’ dar lookin’ to’ds de Yankee -camp what you could see fum de’r fires dey kept burnin’ so we couldn’t -slip up on um an’ throttle um in de’r sleep. - -“‘Don’t tell mother, Ham’ she say; ‘po’ thing, she’s very sick, an’ we -mustn’t ’sturb ’er. I carn’t sleep wid all dis on my mind. How do we -know, Ham, but my po’ brother may be dis minute in gre’t danger? I must -keep watch kase I know in reason he’ll try to pass thoo de lines some -night to get to we-all’s, an’, Ham, somebody must be up to receive ’im -an’ hide ’im less’n dey catch ’im an’ try to kill ’im.’ - -“She was alraidy a-cryin’, an’ I didn’t have de heart to tell ’er how -dangersome it was to try to pass guards on picket duty, kase I had heerd -’bout one po’ feller gittin’ daylight let thoo ’im while he was tryin’ to -do it on his all-fours. - -“It was as still, suh, dat night as a graveyard. De wind wasn’t blowin’ -’nough to move a blade o’ wavy grass. An’ all of a sudden I heerd a sound -way down de road like somebody’s feet—pit-pat, pit-pat, comin’ nigher an’ -nigher. Den we heer somebody a-pantin’ mighty nigh out’n breath. - -“Young Miss laid ’er han’ on ’er breast an’ breathed hard. De sound kept -gittin’ closer an’ closer tell all at once somebody sprung over de fence -into de yard. My Gawd, it was Marse Eddie, an’ no dead white pusson could -look paler’n he did an’ so thin an’ raggety. - -“‘Grace,’ he say, blowin hard, ‘is dis you? My Gawd, sister, dey is atter -me. I started to slip thoo de lines an’ dey seed me an’ so I had to run -fur my life. Do you heer um?’ - -“We all listen an’ sho ’nough we heerd de Yankees comin’ as fast as dey -kin lick it. Young Miss carn’t speak; she des throwed ’er arms ’roun ’er -brurr’s neck an’ tried to pull ’im in de house. But he say, ‘No, no; I -mus’ run furder; dey gwine s’arch dis house fust place, kase we-all fur -de Souf—good-bye!’ an’ ’fo’ Miss Grace could open ’er mouf he’s off thoo -de woods an’ out o’ sight in de dark, dough he wasn’t runnin’ out’n a -slow dog-trot kase he was too broke down. In a minute ’bout ten men jump -de fence an’ come to us. - -“‘Here he is!’ one of um say, an’ he stuck a pistol in my face fur de -worl’ like he gwine blow my brains out. Dis was a sho ’nough s’prise to -me, I tell you, fur it was a powerful good chance fur young Miss ter -tell um, yes, I was de one, an’ git um to stop runnin’ after her brurr. -I didn’t know what she was gwine to do ’bout it, but it didn’t suit me -one bit. I never seed de line o’ pickets I’d try to run thoo, an’ my time -hadn’t come to die nohow. - -“But one of de men say, ‘No, it was a white man, an’ a reb to boot kase -I seed his face an’ his newniform. Dis is des a’ ol’ nigger dat stays -’roun’ dis house.’ Den he up an’ ’dress young Miss. ‘Young lady,’ he ax -’er, ‘is a man pass heer des now?’ - -“Well, suh, I ’lowed she wouldn’t find ’er tongue, she was so bad put -out, but she up an’ say: ‘No, suh, not sence I been standin’ here,’ an’ -she say it as cool as ef she was des givin’ ’im a passin’ s’lute. But I -reckon dat officer seed thoo ’er kase he said: ‘Some o’ you fellers run -down dat way an’ fo’ of us will s’arch de house. Miss,’ he say to Miss -Grace, ‘we all know you is fur de downfall o’ de republic, an’ you mus’ -’scuse me fur not takin’ yo’ word, but we is been fooled so many times by -you women in de Souf dat we got to be partic’lar.’ - -“Wid dat, fo’ of um go thoo we-all’s house fum bottom to top an’ ol’ Miss -was mighty nigh ’stracted. She riz bodily fum ’er bed an’ fronted um. It -was a big wonder to me dat dem Yankees ain’t shot ’er daid in ’er tracks -fur de way she belittled um. - -“‘You dirty gang o’ raid-hand murderers an’ cut-th’oats,’ she say, -‘I hope an’ pray high heaven will fall down on you an’ crush you in -everlastin’ punishment. You ain’t satisfied wid takin’ our sons an’ -husbands fum us, but you must go an’ tromple our houses wid yo’ muddy -feet an’ fo’ce yo’ ugly se’ves into de sick rooms o’ yo’ betters. Dat -shows yo’ raisin’; no Southern gen’man ain’t gwine be so brutish.’ - -“‘Now, madam,’ de leader say as cool as a watermelon in a deep spring, -‘des keep on yo’ jacket. You ketch yo’ death wid cold, A sudden change -fum a warm bed is a bad thing whar doctors is so scarce, anyhow. You -better not ’cite yo’se’f—’twon’t do a speck o’ good, an’ in fact you -ain’t lookin’ well. You act sorter s’picious. Ef dar is a spy in yo’ -house we gwine have ’im fur our meat, an’ all yo’ rampageousness won’t -stop us. Dough, I make bold to say, madam, dat we-all ud like to have you -on we-all’s side. At close range dat tongue o’ yo’n ud beat a grape-gun -all holler.’ - -“Ol’ Miss didn’t say anything back. She looked out’n ’er eyes, dough, -like you seed a balkin’ mule ’fo’ now, mebby, when his laigs is been tied -together to break ’im fum kickin’ an’ you stan’ hind ’im wid a whip an’ -sorer tap ’im in de flank atter he found out he earn’t kick ’nough to -skeer a hoss-fly off’n his back. - -“Well, dey all go plumb thoo de house widout a speck ur luck, ’cep’ what -dey come acrost in de cupboard. When dey et all dey want an’ is raidy to -go, de head man say to ol’ Miss: ‘Madam,’ he say, lookin’ at me kinder -’chievous, ‘we got some work in de camp to be done an’ dis ol’ nigger -mus’ go an’ tend to it. We’ll sen’ ’im back in de mawnin’ sho ef he gits -thoo.’ - -“Dat ain’t de fust time I had to do odd jobs fur um, an’ I ain’t -s’prised. I had to march back wid one lill swivelly white man dat I could -a-mashed twixt my fingers like a skeeter, an’ I would a-tried it, too, -ef he hadn’t kep’ a musket level’ on me de whole time. De other soldiers -went on after Marse Eddie. - -“He’s a spy,’ I heer um say, as dey went off, ’an’ he carn’t git away, -nuther, kase he is s’rounded on all sides an’ day is breakin’.’ - -“By de time we got to de camp de sun was ’ginnin’ to rise an’ a kettle -drummer was out wakin’ um all up wid his clatter. I had to he’p wash -dishes at de officer’s tent, an’ all dat mawnin’ I heerd um axin’ one -another is de spy done kotch. To’ds dinner de men all come back an’ wid -um was po’ Marse Eddie. He was so weakly dey had to mos’ drap ’im along. -Pon my word, I don’t b’lieve de boy know who had ’im; he looked so wild -out o’ his raid eyes. - -“Dey tuck ’im to a big tent an’ all de officers got in it and held a -court martial—dat’s what dey called it. I couldn’t heer a word dat -passed, but de Lawd know I seed Marse Eddie was in a bad fix, kase dey -was makin’ sech a big to-do. - -“Terrectly dey all come out de tent. De haid man ’mongst um give a order -an’ ’bout ten men come up wid deir guns an’ formed a line o’ battle. Den -dey marched Marse Eddie out wid his back to a tree. You know, suh, I kin -’member when young Miss an’ ’im used to go to dat selfsame sweetgum when -dey was lill. He used to take his knife an’ gouge out de gum an’ put it -twixt ’er white teeth an’ she’s say, ‘Quick, Brurr Eddie, give me some -dat’s hard ’fo’ my teeth stick together—dis heer is too saft.’ - -“Den young Marster ud take some o’ de dry gum in his fingers, kase it -wouldn’t lay on de knife-blade, an’ when he’d make ’er shet ’er eyes he’d -drap it in ’er mouf. Yes, suh, I kin ’member dat as plain as ef ’twas -yesterday. - -“Well, when dey got de po’ droopy young man agin de tree, an’ yell at ’im -to hold his haid up, all de big, strappin’ soldiers stand in front an’ de -captain drilled um. All deir clothes looked so blue an’ deir buttons an -shoulder straps flashed in de sun like a lookin’-glass in de light. Seem -like I kin heer de same locust a-singin’ in de woods right now dat was -singin’ den. De sky was blue, an’ wide open, des like Gawd Almighty done -tore de clouds apart so Marse Eddie’s white soul could git away fum dat -measly crowd o’ blood-thirsty cowards. I knowed I couldn’t do a thing to -help ’im, an’ I tried to hold steady an’ take one las’ look at my young -Marster, but I couldn’t see any plainer dan you kin thoo a frosty window. -But when de captain say, ‘Raidy, take aim!’ I looked away. De guns all -went off wid one crack, an’ when de smoke is ris’ a lill, I seed Marse -Eddie settin’ on de groun’ agin de tree wid his haid down des fur de -world like I seed ’im one day when he’d been watchin’ us cut wheat an’ -got drowsy an’ fell asleep in de shade. - -“Dey tuck ’im off to bury ’im, an’ I went back to work; but I couldn’t -do it jestice, an’ kept drappin’ de dishes an’ pans, I was so outdone -thinkin’ ’bout de folks at home. Den de captain pass me an’ say: ‘Look -heer, what you snifflin’ ’bout? Did you know dis young man?’ - -“An’ when I told ’im yesser, dat captain got mighty serious in de face -an’ yell out to de rest um, ‘Why didn’t you-all had dis man testify?’ - -“But nobody wouldn’t answer. Den de captain set down nigh me an’ I could -see his hands was tremblin’ powerful. He talked low like he was sorter -ashamed. An’ he ax me: ‘Who is de young man? Whar do he live?’ - -“I told ’im Marse Eddie was my young Marster an’ at he was s’rounded in -de mountains when he was tryin’ to git home on his furlough, wid his so’ -arm, an’ sick an’ hungry. - -“Well, suh, I hain’t never had too much use fur Yankees, but dat one’s -face cert’ney did look troubled. - -“‘Gawd furgive us,’ he say, dat’s what he said, ‘and we-all thought he -was lyin’ to git free;’ an’ he most stagger as he walked off. Den I heer -’im order um not to bury Marse Eddie yit but to wait. Dey fixed ’im as -nice as dey kin on a litter an’ put a new gray blanket on ’im an’ send -’im off to we-all’s place, kase I reckon dey lowed dey had done all de -damage dey kin an’ thought it would be a kindness to old Miss to bury ’er -own child. - -“After dey done gone, I heer de captain say: ‘Dis is a mistaken duty. I’d -ruther myse’f lie on dat litter. Heaven is gwine to curse dis bloodshed, -Lieutenant,’ he say to a spry young man. ‘Lieutenant, you know’ what -we-all shot dat po’ boy fur? We shot ’im kase he come home wounded to -see his fair-faced sister back on dat plantation, an’ his old bedridden -mother. Lieutenant, let dat be a lesson to you. Dat letter in his pocket -wasn’t no spy-letter. It was des to his pa back in de army of de Souf -tellin’ ’im he was nigh his home. When he writ he was tryin’ to git thoo -de lines it wasn’t to spy. Yo’ maw’s a-livin’, ain’t she, Lieutenant?’ De -young man nodded his haid, an’ den de captain went on agi’n: ‘Well, des -put yo’se’f in dis young man’s place an’ den you gwine see how yo’ maw ud -feel to had you sent home dat away.’ - -“Wid all de ’sturbance, it seemed like dey done furget dat I ort to be at -home wid my white folks at sech a’ awful time, an’ dey kep’ me till long -atter dinner. Den who shall come right in de camp ’cep’ young Miss? I -never in all my days seed sech a look as was in her face. Seemed like she -was in ’er sleep, ur out’n ’er mind, ur suppin another. It looked like -all de officers in de camp wanted to hide out, but de captain was man -enough to face ’er an’ went right up to whar she was. - -“‘I come to see de spot whar de young Confederate died dis mawnin’, if -you please,’ she said, as cool as I ever seed young Miss in my life, -dough ’er eyes was flashin’ like diamonds in de sun. - -“‘Young lady,’ de captain say, mighty white in de face, ‘dis is a po’ -time to ’spress regrets, but Gawd knows dis is a gre’t mistake. I’d -ruther be daid myse’f. I pray Gawd to furgive us. We acted too quick. De -evidence showed dat yo’ brother was a spy, an’ we never knowed no better -till it was all over.’ - -“‘I did not come to discuss his death,’ young Miss said mighty haughty. -‘I des want to see de spot whar he fell. We-all is grateful fer his -remains—sometimes it ain’t done, I believe.’ - -“‘Young Miss,’ I said to ’er, ‘come, le’s go back home; dey will let me -go wid you.’ - -“Den she looked at me fur de fus time. ‘Was you heer, Ham?’ she say; ‘den -you’ll do; you kin show me ’dout troublin’ dese gentlemen. Show me whar -my brurr fell, an’ den I’ll go back to mother. I was des afraid de army -would march off an’ I never would know de exact spot whar de outrage -happened.’ - -[Illustration: - - “When she passed ’im she tuck out a copper piece an’ drap it in his hat.” -] - -“Den I led ’er to’des de sweetgum an’ p’int it out. She des took one look -at it, an’ den she put ’er han’ over ’er face an’ said in a awful low -voice: ‘Le’s go quick, Ham,’ an’ I knowed she was afeerd she’d break down -’fo’ dem low-lived soldiers, an’ dat she’d druther be daid ’an to do it. -All de way home she ain’t open ’er lips. - -“Well, to close my tale, when old Marster come home after de war was over -ol’ Miss was daid. It seems a long time ago. Young Miss an’ ’er pa went -to Richmond to live, whar he had a lill property dat ’scaped de Yankee’s -hands. She turned out to be a gre’t lady an’ had big men—governors an’ -congressmen runnin’ atter her to git ’er to marry um. De funniest thing -of all was de way dat Yankee captain did after de war was over; I heer -some o’ my white folks say he writ two dozen letters to young Miss. He -told ’er in um dat she was the onliest woman he ever laid eyes on dat -completely tuck his heart and he say ’twas all kase she had so much pride -and fine sperit. He begged ’er to let by-gones be by-gones an’ let ’im -come down to Richmond an’ ’splain, but she didn’t so much as answer de -letters an’ got so she sent um back to ’im dout openin’ um. Dey say he -managed to meet ’er at a big dinner somebody give up in Richmond an’ -was introduced to ’er. Of co’se, young Miss was too much of a lady to -’suit ’im when dey bofe visitin’ de same house, so she bowed to ’im an’ -’changed a few words, but she left de house an’ called her carriage. -Dat’s what my white folks done tole me; I dunno, but it cert’ney was like -young Miss. Dey say dat treatment didn’t faze dat captain, he was so -dead bent on gittin’ ’er fur his wife; so one day, some time atter dat, -he follered ’er to a big chu’ch in Richmond, whar she went to worship. -Dey say it had high steps to it, an’ when she come out’n de do’ she seed -’im at de foot o’ de steps waitin’ fur ’er, wid his hat helt out in his -hand. Well, suh, what you reckon young Miss did? She had her purse in ’er -hand wid some small change in it, an’ when she passed ’im she tuck out -a copper piece an’ drap it in his hat widout so much as lookin’ at ’im, -des as ef he was a begger. Dey say dat settled ’im. He went off an’ never -bothered ’er again. - -“Did she marry? Yes, suh, she did, fer she had pickin’ choice o’ de whole -country, Norf an’ Souf. She married a big rich man in Richmond, an’ she’s -got some o’ de likeliest childern in de world. Her pa is dar doin’ well, -too; dey send me money every now an’ den an’ wish me well. Dey is folks -right, suh, an’ ef you ever run across um you’ll know I’m tellin’ you de -trufe.” - - - - - SONG. - - BY ROBERT LOVEMAN. - - - Drenched in the dew of tender tears, - A song doth blossom in my heart; - The trembling words are fraught with fears, - The melody is love’s sweet art. - - O, to my lady, song, away! - Be thou my courier, true and fleet, - Mesh her in music all the day, - Then die in fragrance at her feet. - - - - - THE PEOPLE OF THE SOUTHERN MILLS. - - A HOPEFUL SIDE TO LIFE IN THE FACTORY COMMUNITIES. - - By Leonora Beck Ellis. - - -While the political economist knits his brows in perplexity over the -immoderate increase of cotton mills in the Southern States, and the -social reformer cries vehemently against their child labor and low adult -wages, these problems are solving themselves by natural processes which -man’s economics or sociological theories can neither hurry nor retard. - -Cotton manufacturing has traversed the road to its base of supply, -and can no more be severed from it again than the descending rivulet -can turn and run up hill. Child labor is only a complicated error of -new conditions, and will in due process fall to inevitable decay. The -wage problem mutates everywhere, yet optimism assures us that it bears -steadily towards solution. - -But the mill people of the South are a new and picturesque labor class. -Some glimpses of their homes and family life will, we believe, afford -interest to the reader for entertainment as well as to the student of -sociology. - - * * * * * - -There are points of distinct difference between the factory operatives of -the South and those of any other section of our country or of Europe. - -In the first place, there are no urban instincts in these Southern mill -communities. Whatever virtues they lack at least they have not the vices -of cities. The good and the evil in them are still such as belong to a -strictly rural people. But no one must expect, after another decade and a -half, to find the same thing true; for, with the passing of the present -generation, this unique characteristic must of necessity be largely lost. -Gregariousness of living is potent to efface such a mark even when -deeply stamped. - -It may be asked, What are the indications of this quality which, for -want of a better name, is termed rusticity? The signs are many and easy -to read. No observant person can miss the plain evidence even in his -first day with the mill people. He walks past the cottages, row on row, -and sees prince’s feather and bachelor’s button growing in the tiny -yards, patchwork quilts sunning from the windows, and strings of red -pepper festooned on the back porches. The boys are quite often chewing -tobacco, but they are not smoking cigarettes. Often, alas! the girls dip -snuff, but they do not lace in their waists, nor attempt handkerchief -flirtations. The women are given to quiet, and a profound reserve -usually marks their social intercourse. The festive gatherings in the -entertainment halls on Saturday nights are either stiff parties or -genuine country dances. The “barbecue” is common on a general holiday and -the “all day singing” of a Sunday still remains the acme of enjoyment, -affording the perfect blending of sociality and devotion. - -A second quality differentiating our people from the Northern factory -communities of to-day, is what may well be called their unmodified -Americanism. Up to the present time there is an entire absence of the -foreign element of population among them, and the effect of such absence -is very marked. Not only do better manners prevail in this people sprung -from our own soil, but better morals, greater social purity, less -turbulence and lawlessness. Remember, that observance of law is easier, -more natural, even to illiterate Americans, than to other nations, -because Law has typified to them from childhood the majesty of right, not -the tyranny of might. - -[Illustration: - - MILLS 1, 2 AND 3, PELZER, S. C. -] - -The finer respect for women which marks American manhood, extends also to -these toilers. Except among their very lowest, motherhood inspires the -regard it meets with in other social strata. And while in many of the -mills the number of female employees exceeds that of males, yet in few of -the better kind are there any mothers of young children at work. - -These considerations lead at once to the questions, Where does such a -class of labor come from? What are its antecedents? - -The first is easily answered: The operatives have poured into the new -factories, not from town or city, but from the country, direct from -the cotton fields, we may say, to the mills. It was certainly not an -anomalous movement when cotton was bringing 4¾ cents per pound. But -as the staple moves back to its old prices, 10 and 12 cents, some -reactionary phases must be looked for and provided against. - -The antecedents of this class of labor deserve attention. A great -majority of the operatives come from the agricultural class known as -tenant farmers; that is, men who farm the land for others, paying as rent -a considerable portion of each year’s crop. The tenant system was adopted -in the South during the period of disorder and chaotic ruin following the -Civil War, when our old system of labor was dissolved and no better base -remained on which to build anew the fabric of agricultural life. Unfit -as it is for a country of such institutions as ours, and the source in -itself of very sore evils, the tenant system still had a necessary part -in the last half century. - -Many of the tenant farmers of the last generation had indeed “seen -better days.” Not a few had been freeholders before the war, although -usually of the little farms interspersed here and there among the great -plantations of the aristocrats. Many others had been overseers, factors, -agents of various sorts. A very small proportion came from the class of -decayed gentlemen. The rest were made up from those strata usually lumped -together in our designation, “crackers,” or, in the South Carolina term, -“poor Buckra.” - -[Illustration: - - HOMES FROM WHICH THE MILL PEOPLE COME. -] - -Such are the antecedents of the mass of operatives in the new mills -of the South. Bearing in mind this derivation, you will not find it -difficult to account for many qualities, traits and habitudes that -might otherwise appear anomalous. For example, their extravagance is a -characteristic almost without parallel among other classes of toilers. -But it is simple of explanation. - -The transition from a dollarless past to a many-dollared present would -render any class of untutored human beings extravagant. Through a long -period of tenant farming, these people scarcely saw a piece of money -from Christmas to Christmas. Each year’s supplies were either furnished -by the owner of the land, or bought on credit at a nearby store, to -be paid for when the cotton was picked. The harvest came, sometimes -good, sometimes bad; but good or bad, it seemed uniformly to take it -all to pay the merchant and the landlord. The tenant rarely enjoyed -even the sorry pleasure of selling his cotton and paying the hard cash -to these creditors; instead, he usually hauled the raw product of his -toil directly to them, then turned apathetically away to begin his -half-hearted preparations for another year’s crop. His wife and children -shared his labors, sharing also his empty-handedness. - -This went on through the dragging years of the South’s agricultural -prostration, until the last decade came, with its mills and its -industrial revolution, when the moneyless and landless ones drew into -the new communities, to try bread-winning under unfamiliar conditions. -The mothers and daughters had often worked on the farms, so they did not -hesitate at the factory door, except when very young children claimed the -care of the former. In most instances, indeed, the women’s fingers proved -the readiest for the new occupation. - -[Illustration: - - THE MOUNTAIN TOP CABIN -] - -But neither women nor men acquired dexterity without a period of -laborious effort, such as all workmen must struggle through when, -possessed of only the inherited instincts of generations of bucolic -ancestors, they set themselves to some form of mechanical labor. That -period being done with, a certain amount of skill began to appear in all -fairly intelligent operatives, and shortly they found themselves bringing -home each Saturday night, or alternate Saturday night, according as pay -day fell, an amount of money that to them seemed an amazing treasure-pile. - -[Illustration: - - A TYPICAL MILL COTTAGE. -] - -Cases such as the following are found in every prosperous factory -community: The father, mother, and six or eight boys and girls, ranging -from twelve to twenty odd years, are at work in one mill. Large families -are the rule in this class, remember. Now, the adults, if fair weavers, -easily average $22.99 apiece per month. The younger members of the family -are probably spinners, and average about $14 each. This family, then, -that in the old life of the farm thought themselves fortunate indeed to -handle $100 in cash throughout a year, now bring home something like -$175 every month! - -Is it strange to you that extravagance seizes upon this metamorphosed -household? If the sudden transition from pennilessness to plethoric -pocket-books did not lead in itself straight to spendthrift living, the -precedents of their neighbors would speedily teach the trait. - -So the housewife loads the table with luxuries hitherto unknown; the -pretty girl is tempted into all the caprices of dress that her little -Vanity Fair may flaunt, while the father and brother can scarcely tell -whither their dollars speed on such swift wings. - -[Illustration: - - THE LYCEUM, PELZER, S. C. -] - -Yet this wastefulness, too, is but a phase, destined to gradual -elimination in the development of the process by which an agricultural -people are converted into a manufacturing one. With all their illiteracy -this class is not devoid of understanding; and when a certain -bewilderment of these early years is past, it will be borne in upon them -in countless ways, by their school privileges, their larger experience, -their clearer views of the outside world, by their own innate manhood, -indeed, that there are far other uses for hard-earned money than to be -lavished on mere food, clothing and shelter. Many of them are already -opening their eyes to the fact that for an abundance of things to eat -and wear, they have bartered a certain independence and manliness which -are fostered by agricultural pursuits, even the lowliest, and which -breed sturdier virtues than mere factory dependents can hope to transmit -to their children. Awakening perceptions such as these are leading to -different results: to a rescinding of extravagance always; sometimes -a return to the farm; occasionally to the laying aside of money or -investing it in a home just outside the factory property. But in most -cases I find a steadfast purpose growing,—to work straight on where they -are for the present, and save every cent possible to educate the coming -generation and set their feet in the path that leads to freedom. I have -even found several young men and women putting aside money to go to -school on when enough is saved, and many go to school and work through -alternate half years. - -But how can they save money? clamor those who have been studying the -comparative wage-scale of Northern and Southern factories, without -acquaintance with the actual conditions of the latter. By reasonable -economy, is the answer in this case as others. - -From $20 to $30 per month is paid good weavers throughout this section, -while the average spinner draws from $10 to $16. These are regarded as -good living wages in a country where the prices of necessaries range much -lower than in the East or the West. Houses are to be heated only about -four months in the year, and fuel is comparatively cheap, in many places -less than $1.50 per cord for wood, while coal averages less than half the -price it brings in Northern markets. Clothing in this warm climate costs -far less than in a colder region. Farm and garden supplies are purchased -for what seems to the Northern mind an absurdly low price, and dairy -products are never high. Besides, in all the rural mill communities, -which are now counted by the score to every one in a city, a garden patch -always and often pasturage for one cow can be counted on with every -cottage. - -House rent is not a considerable item. The mill cottages rent by the -month on the basis of 60 cents to $1 per room, and the houses range in -size from three to eight rooms, four, however, being the rule. With few -exceptions, these cottages are fairly comfortable, and built with due -regard to sanitation. Outside of cities, each one has its ground space -where the inmates may grow flowers and vegetables, thus fostering a form -of local attachment that is by no means weak. - -From this brief survey, it may be deduced that while the one-time tiller -of the soil has surrendered something in becoming a factory operative, -he has also come into new privileges and potentialities. When you -strike your balance between gain and loss, do not overlook the weighty -consideration of the school advantages and other educational facilities -which such people have acquired by coming from sparse and remote -settlements into their present community life. - - * * * * * - -During a recent cold snap the young and tender editor of this youthful -publication accompanied the blizzard to a small Tennessee town. The -office of the little hotel was full of commercial travelers trying to -keep warm around a single grate. A half-frozen Italian organ grinder, -with his monkey, entered, but was crowded away from the fire by the -traveling men. He found a chair away back in the corner of the room and -soon fell asleep. But suddenly he woke with a scream; the traveling men -rushed to him and asked him what was the matter. He said he dreamed he -was in hell and was freezing to death. “Freezing to death in hell! How is -that?” asked one of the boys. “Well,” replied the Italian, “the drummers -crowded around the fire so I couldn’t get to it.”—_Robert. L. Taylor._ - -[Illustration] - - - - - THE MERRY LADY. - - By Roger Pocock, Author of “A Frontiersman,” etc. - - - I. - -The poplar groves were gemmed with diamond frost, and they stood in a -fairy circle surrounding a glade of snow. Beyond lay all the immensity -of the Canadian Plains, above rode the sun in a heaven of cloudless -blue, but within the glade there was war. Jets of sharp flame flickered -from all the groves, giving birth to clouds like pearls, which drifted -on the serene air and made a bluish film of smoke above the waves of -the snowdrift. Across the foot of the glade some sleighs were drawn up -for defence, each giving shelter to a knot of men, though the woodwork -shattered in splinters about their ears. Lying with carbines at rest -underneath the sleighs, they watched for the smoke pearls in the woods, -then sighting low to clear the combs of the snowdrifts, they fired -steadily at hidden enemies. A shower of diamond dust would fall from -some fairy tree while the marksman swore thoughtfully, and loaded to try -again. So rifles blazed and crashed, so bullets whined or sang, but all -this was merely a twittering as of summer birds amid that mighty silence -of the plains, which filled the vault of heaven sun-high with peace. - -Yesterday a village of retired buffalo-hunters, French-Indian -half-breeds, sorely annoyed with the Canadian government, had set up -a toy republic, and persuaded some Indian tribes to come out on the -warpath. To-day a troop of the Northwest Mounted Police, assisted -by a handful of volunteers, had come out from Fort Carlton to make -enquiries—and been neatly ambushed. The party of the first part numbered -three hundred and sixty-one and the party of the second part only -ninety-six, as witnessed this Disagreement, dated near Duck Lake, in the -District of Saskatchewan, in the Northwest Territory of Canada, this 26th -day of March, 1885. - -The trooper farthest to the left of the sleigh rampart was a man of giant -girth and stature, with an ugly face. Officially he was Regimental Number -1107, Constable la Mancha, J., but his pet name was the Blackguard, -presumably because of his manners and customs. When the fighting began -he had been much alarmed, then displeased because a bullet whipped some -fur from his buffalo overcoat, and in another minute full of cheerful -fury, boiling hot with a frantic appetite for trouble. Moreover, the -very moment he began pumping lead into the nearest clump of bushes a -naked Indian was seen to leap into the air, and fall headlong. “My meat!” -cried the Blackguard, and took a ferocious interest in getting more. A -few minutes later he heard the man next him on the right utter a little -grunt, and gave his hot carbine a rest while he looked round to see what -was wrong. A gallant young Canadian, Corporal Buck McCannock, had been -hit, and rolled over on his back beside la Mancha. The Blackguard felt -rather sick, watching the red flush fade beneath the tan while the man’s -strong features became wan and pinched. - -“Say, Buck, old chap, can I help?” Buck’s eyes were closed, and he did -not seem to hear. The sunlight glowed on the scarlet serge of his jacket, -the glittering buttons, the bright accoutrements, as he lay with his -buffalo coat spread wide upon the snow. Only his face was in shadow. - -“Buck, old man!” - -His eyes opened, his right hand moved out, his fingers plucking at la -Mancha’s sleeve, then very slowly his left hand groped at the breast of -his jacket, and drew out a paper until it caught between the buttons. La -Mancha saw that Buck’s lips were moving now, and bending down he heard a -broken whisper, “Take this—tell her—tell her—” - -The clay-white face relaxed, and the Blackguard saw a bluish shadow -come up like rising water over it, over the glazing eyes. Then the lips -parted. He wrenched the letter from the clutch of a dead hand, which slid -away down the breast of the scarlet jacket, and dropped to the ground. - -It was the shattering blow of a bullet in the sleigh box above his head -which roused la Mancha to turn and fight again. Hitherto he had merely -disliked those men behind the snowdrifts, but now he wanted to skin, and -burn a few of them slowly, and prayed to the saints that each bullet -should inflict a painful and mortal wound, followed by a disagreeable -hereafter. - -Then he heard footsteps in the creaking snow, and knew that the troop -surgeon had found the corpse beside him. He heard the doctor whisper: -“Buck? Poor Buck!” - -When la Mancha looked round again Dr. Miller was gone and a red-haired -trooper was busy stripping the ammunition from the dead man’s belt. - -“Down, fool,” said the Blackguard; “that scalp of yours draws fire—you -ruddy oot.” - -Red lay down on the edge of the dead man’s coat, and threw his feet -across the Blackguard’s legs lest the snow should wet them. Then he -grunted with content. - -“Happy?” asked the Blackguard. - -“’Ungry—gimme blood! Look there!” - -Red jerked his thumb backwards over his shoulder and showed his chum -how one of the officers, Inspector Sarde, lay near them. Sarde was -hiding behind the next sleigh on the left, making an abject display of -cowardice. “The lantern-jawed, swivel-eyed, white-livered, scarehead, -misbegotten, jumped up son of a dog’s wife,” was the Blackguard’s -comment. - -“I kicked ’im,” Red grinned in ferocious joy, “cruel ’ard, too.” - -“Red, help me to clear that bluff in front there; sight at one hundred -yards, and fire low.” - -“Low it is.” Red settled himself to work, fired, and pumped a cartridge -while he watched results. - -“What makes you sing, eh, Blackguard? I’m in a funk, I am—” he fired -again. - -“Was I singing?” La Mancha let drive at a smoke puff. “I bagged a buck -Indian just now—aim low—got ’im. - - “Carry him reverently, gently, slow— - Pace by the trunnions with patient tread; - Over the drifts of the rolling snow, - With arms reversed for the Dead.” - -“Nice and cheerful, ain’t yer!” cried Red sarcastically, but la Mancha -enjoyed himself. - - “Little we thought of him while he shared - All that was worst in the long campaign; - Little he guessed that we really cared, - But drums roll now for the slain. - - Spreading the Flag o’er his last long sleep, - Leading the horse which he may not ride. - Tho’ for the living the roads are steep— - The road for the Dead rolls wide.” - -“’Ere, stop that!” Red howled at him, then wiped his eyes with his -sleeve, as the Blackguard went on in a broken voice, revelling in grief. - - “Bravely he suffer’d and manly fought; - Great with Death’s majesty rides he there; - Royal the honors he dearly bought— - The peace which we may not share.” - -“Oh, shut up!” Red wailed, but la Mancha grinned at him. “Blackguard, got -any more ammunition?” - -The Blackguard chuckled: “For my self? why, plenty!” and he fired at a -pearly gust of smoke among fairy trees of diamond. Then he heard the -death scream of a horse at the rear, the shouting of orders, and a bugle -crying, “Cease firing! Retire!” - - - II. - -The horses were bought up from the rear, bucking, fighting, breaking -away, or falling in their traces as the teamsters took them in charge. -Then the enemy charged, the rear guard held them back, and confusion -verged towards panic under a galling fire. La Mancha, with Red for his -off man, was lucky enough to get a team away unharmed, but, as his horses -plunged through breast-high drifts, he heard the outcry of two wounded -men. Their sleigh, with one horse killed, and the other dying, had been -abandoned. - -“All right, Gilchrist!” he called. “Keep your hair on, Smith!” then swung -his team about—“Drive on!” yelled Inspector Sarde, jumping directly in -his path. - -For answer the Blackguard drove straight over him to the rescue. In -another moment willing helpers had carried the wounded men to la Mancha’s -sleigh, and half a dozen jumped in to defend them, as the teamsters swung -away towards the trail. - -When he had tailed in with the retreat he turned, “What became of Sarde -the Coward?” he called back over his shoulder. - -“In your sleigh, constable!” answered the officer. “Sergeant, put this -man under arrest.” - -“Yes, sir,” the sergeant saluted. “Constable la Mancha,” he called, “for -charging an officer with cowardice in the field, consider yourself under -arrest.” - -The charge was made, and only la Mancha could withdraw that now. Sarde -looked from face to face and all eyes accused him; all these men were -witnesses against him on a charge of cowardice in the field. He set his -teeth. - -“Sergeant,” he said, “when we reach the Fort you will put this constable -under close arrest.” - -The Blackguard was singing gaily as he drove, singing in vengeful -triumph, forgetting the dozen or so of his comrades whose bodies lay on -the bloody snow, abandoned. Then he remembered and was silent, while the -crackle of musketry dwindled away astern, as the men of the rear guard -fell back. Only the lope of the horses, the creaking of the runners, -and occasional sobbing gasps of a hurt man in the sleigh, disturbed the -silence of the wilderness. La Mancha handed the reins to his off man: - -“Take the team, Red; I want—” - -He took a letter from his pocket, and sat, all humped up, reading -gloomily. - -Eight miles away the fellows down in the Fort were waiting for news, the -news of victory. Red’s heart, as he drove, was aching; his face burned -with shame as he thought of the Outfit thrashed—the Greatest Regiment on -Earth disgraced—the dead left in the field, the sleighs full of wounded -men in their agony—then the settlements! What could save the far-strung, -lonely settlements now from being sacked and burned, the men tortured to -death, the women—the children! He dared not think of them at the mercy -of Red Indian tribes at war. And Buck was dead; poor old Buck, who had -rooked him last night at cribbage—dead! - -“Dearest,” the Blackguard read, “I can’t bear him any longer. Meet me -behind the stockade at dusk. Your poor Polly.” - -Who the deuce was Polly? What had he to tell her anyway from Buck? He -put away Buck’s letter, and drove on, climbing the hillocks, swishing -down the hollows among lakes and groves, until the deep valley of the -Saskatchewan opened ahead, and far down beside the river he saw the old -Hudson’s Bay Company’s post, Fort Carlton, where the Union Jack flamed -out above the stockade, and the garrison waited for news of victory. - -Away to the right, upon the eastern trail, a string of loaded sleighs was -sweeping down long slopes toward the Fort, covered by mounted men with -all the glitter and pageantry of war—the reinforcement which had come too -late—B Troop, triumphant after a tremendous forced march to the rescue. -The Blackguard grunted his disparagement, and spoke to his off man: - -“Who’s poor Polly?” - -Red laughed: “Sarde’s wife, of course.” - -The Blackguard whistled softly. “So she’s poor Polly—oh, you sly dog! Oh, -Buck!” - - - III. - -The Blackguard slept in the cells a prisoner—“Pretty well, thank you!” -as he told Red, through the window, afterwards. All day he lay at ease -while the rest of the fellows made dismal lamentations about overwork. -That soothed him, also the aftertaste of a nice fight, while in his -cheery soul he gloated on things to come, the war, the downfall of Sarde, -and meetings with that officer’s merry lady. No wonder she could not bear -any more Sarde—small blame to her, for he was dismal and the lady gay, -with a sense of humor, an engaging laugh, a dimple or two, and a pert eye -for any fun in sight. Poor Polly! And so she let Buck hold her hand of an -evening? Poor Buck! The Blackguard sighed. “But I’m rather nice”—he felt -that Buck would approve—“and disengaged, too! I’m grateful, refreshing, -comforting, well broken, docile, with the sweetest manners, the dearest -little ways.” He chuckled as he thought of other merry ladies whom he had -fondly loved, two or three at a time, charming girls by swarms down the -perspectives of nice memory. “I did my duty.” He crooned, and composed -himself for a nap. - -Red came in the afternoon with news. The fort was to be abandoned, -evacuated at midnight, and the garrison was to fall back, defending the -settlements eastward. The boys had been turned loose to loot the Hudson’s -Bay store—and here was the Blackguard’s share, flung in through the bars: -a box of cigars, a mouth organ, a fine revolver, a baby’s bottle, some -chocolate creams, and a family Bible which caught him full in the eye and -floored him. - -The Blackguard found that he could not play the mouth organ while he was -eating chocolates and smoking, but had to take them by turns. The shadow -of night stole softly in through the bars before he was bored. - -Later on he began to get hungry, and as supper was delayed some hours -he clamored at the door. To his amazement he was at once let out by a -half-breed washerwoman, and looking round saw that the guardroom was -full of civilian refugees. For a minute he stood watching them as they -sat around a glowing stove, whose naked iron flue went red-hot through -the wooden ceiling. “You’ll have the place on fire soon,” he said, and -they only smiled at him. Where was the Guard? Away relieving sentries, -he supposed, as he reached his sidearms down from a peg, belted on his -revolver, and strolled outside. He found himself in the covered entry -of the fort, under the gate house. On his right the great courtyard was -littered with sleighs, and swarming with men at work preparing for the -retreat. On his left the gates swung ajar. To look more business-like -he swung an axe across his shoulder, and marched out, explaining to -the sentry that he was on duty. The riverside meadows lay silver below -the moon and the fresh night allured him as he skirted the stockade, -answering a challenge from the bastion, then turned towards the rear side -of the fort. He was thinking of the merry lady who might have been there -had he come last night. She was there! - -He drew near to the cloaked and silent woman, and lifted his cap; “Mrs. -Sarde, I think?” - -She shrank back against the upright posts of the stockade, thrust out -white hands against him, and barely repressed a scream. “Who are you? -What are you?” she cried. - -He saw that her face was pale, touched by the moonlight into a spiritual -delicacy. “The Blackguard, madam,” he answered. - -“Oh, how you frightened me! What is it, la Mancha? You’ve brought a -message for me?” - -“You thought I was a ghost,” he whispered; “you thought I was—” - -“Buck? Yes.” He saw a tear run down her cheek. “Yes, I thought so.” - -“I am his messenger.” The Blackguard’s voice was soft and low, he leaned -towards her, his hand against the stockade, as he bent down. “His last -thought was of you, he tried to give me a message, but his voice failed -then.” - -“My brother! My poor brother!” The Blackguard started back. - -“The deuce!” he stammered, “what a beastly sell! Your brother, madam?” -He uncovered his head. “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Sarde; I beg your -forgiveness.” - -“Nobody knew,” her voice was broken with tears; “not even my husband. -Poor boy—things had gone wrong down East. He had to change his name, and -when he joined the Force—for my sake, he wouldn’t say that he was my -brother. He was in the ranks, you see, and I—” - -“You are in trouble, madam”—a new reverence had come into la Mancha’s -manner. “I was your brother’s friend—may I take his place and serve you?” - -“How kind of you to think of that, Mr. la Mancha. But then, you see, my -husband—you understand?” - -“Has the right to protect you; yes, he has that great honor.” - -“Oh, don’t mind me!” came Sarde’s sarcastic interruption, and both of -them turned round, startled, horrified, to face the officer of the guard, -visiting round unattended. “You may well start—the pair of you,” said -Inspector Sarde, his eyes glittering with rage, then with bitter sarcasm -he went on; “A husband’s rights? Moonshine! Myths! Lies! Woman, get back -to the fort at once, or I’ll have you arrested for being out of bounds.” - -“But, Cuthbert,” she pleaded, “you don’t understand. This gentleman—” - -“Go, I say; go! Leave me to settle with this—this gentleman!” - -Poor Polly crept away, and the two men watched her in silence until she -had turned the corner of the stockade. - -“Ah!” the Blackguard laid his axe against the wall. “At last!” - -“And now, mister gentleman, may I venture to ask what you’re doing -outside your cell?” - -“You may.” - -“Stand to attention; call me ‘sir’ when you address an officer.” - -“Dear, dear! I would shout, I would screech if I were you. Then everybody -will hear.” - -“The Commissioner shall hear.” - -“What? That I’m here to defend your wife’s honor, which you have -insulted, you—you poached cat!” - -“Right about turn, quick march for the guard room, or—” - -“Or what?” - -The officer was silent. - -“That’s right. Now be good. I want to point out,” said the Blackguard -with yearning sweetness, “that although I am tempted, without witnesses, -I have not kicked you. No. I have denied myself even calling you names, -you—you mule-foaled outrage on nature’s modesty; you stridulating, -splay-footed, pop-eyed mistake of Providence; you supercilious -brass-mounted, misdirected Excuse. I will not shock myself by speaking -the truth about your appearance, origin, or destiny as a spatchcocked and -fried Sin, but I daresay you’ll understand this—” - -He flicked his glove across the officer’s face, and stood back, smiling -blandly. - -“How dare you!” - -“With my glove, so—” he struck again, lightly, gracefully, tigerishly. -“You see there are the snipers in the hills, taking the pot-shot, eh? -which will explain your death, without my inconvenience; eh? It will -account for all—we have revolvers—and so! Carramba! What more does the -fool want?” - -“Sir! I’m an officer, a gent—” - -“Exactly—gent. Something less than a gentleman, eh? Well, I waive that. I -waive the matter of rank—I accommodate you with every kindness; eh, what?” - -Sarde hesitated. - -“Come, I know you’re a coward, but never mind that. Brace up! You shall -be a man for once. There now; at fifteen paces, eh? No? Don’t disappoint -me, please,” the Blackguard pleaded. “I spoil for it—I beg you—have you -no inside? Are you a shadow in trousers? Nombre de Dios! It’s for your -wife’s honor!” - -“I tell you that officers can’t fight with—” - -“With me, Senor? I waive that, I tell you—I, Jose Santa Maria Sebastian -Sant Iago Nuñez Ramiro de Guzman, de la Mancha, Marques de las -Alpuxarras, Conde del Pulgar, a peer of Castile, am ready to waive my -rank and fight a scrambled skunk! Draw! Stand back! At the word three I -fire—one—two—Sangre de Cristo!” - -Sarde had fired. - -“What the deuce do you mean by firing before I give the word, eh? I’ll -punch your head for that!” The Blackguard clutched at a burning pain on -his shoulder, his hand was dyed with the blood of a spurting artery—and -yet this seemed to concern him less than the red glare from within the -fort which had flushed the face of his adversary. He reeled backwards -now, staring up at the stockade, whose timbers loomed black against a -fiery glow, which was rapidly mounting to heaven above Fort Carlton. - -“Sarde,” said la Mancha, gravely, “you see that?” - -“Had enough?” asked Sarde; “I’m going to kill you now. I fire when I -count three—one—two—defend yourself—” - -“Presently, my good man, presently,” la Mancha waved his hand to Sarde. -“Don’t you see that the fort is on fire?” - -“On fire—what? On fire! By the living—” - -“Hush, don’t gabble, Sarde. You’ve played the man at last; I forgive you -for firing too soon—I let you off the charge of cowardice in the field. -Oh, you needn’t thank me—it’s for your wife’s sake. Yes, I let you off—I -ask your pardon, sir. Oh, yes, why not?” - -Within the fort a bugle was crying the terrible monotonous repetitions -of the General Assembly, and men were yelling, as they ran, of wounded -patients shut up in the blazing house. “The fort’s on fire. The fort’s on -fire,” Sarde moaned. - -La Mancha clutched Sarde’s arm to steady himself as he reeled backwards -faint with pain from his wound. - -“Those refugees,” he explained; “half-breeds in the guard room with a red -hot stove. I warned them. Look, the gate house is on fire, the gate is -blocked with flames, the only gate, and the fire will spread all round -the buildings! All those people going to be burned to death unless we can -cut a road through the stockade—you’ve hit my shoulder—I can’t use the -axe. But you”—he shook the officer with frantic violence—“a Canadian, a -born axeman— Do you hear? Save the garrison or they’ll burn to death! -Take that axe!” - -The Canadian sprang forward, the axe became a live thing in his hands; -the gleaming blade flamed in red air, buried itself in quivering timber, -then swung again, and lit, and swung again in a whirl of splinters. - -La Mancha sat down in the snow, his blood-drenched hand upon the wound, -his body rocking to the steady swing of the axe, though he could hardly -see his enemy now, because of the red smoke curling between the timbers. - -“Good man!” he gasped, “you are a man at last! You’ll save the garrison, -you’ll get promoted, you’ll win back that lady’s love-you’re winning back -your honor! Strike, man—strike!” - - * * * * * - -It is well known to the two hundred thousand readers of this magazine -that its bald-headed editor often pulls his hair on the platform. He -boarded the cars one day and slung his big valise between two seats and -sat down by a drummer. The drummer looked at the valise and then at -the bald-headed man and bluntly asked, “Are you a traveling man, sir?” -“Yes, sir,” was the reply. “What line of goods are you selling?” queried -the drummer. “Sweetened wind,” was the answer. “Oh, you are!” said the -drummer; “preacher or lecturer?”—_Robert L. Taylor._ - - - - - A ROYAL RESIDENCE. - - By James Henry Stevenson. - - -One morning the Professor, whom I had not seen since I left Tennessee, -accidentally unearthed me in London and proposed that we should visit -Windsor. Now, I may as well confess to defective initiative, in regard to -sight-seeing, for I had been within reach of Windsor on several former -occasions and had not yet seen the home of the most gracious queen the -world has ever known. This, too, in face of the fact that a German -professor had assured me that Windsor was “himmlisch.” When a German so -far forgets himself as to say that anything English is “heavenly,” be -assured he has great provocation. - -[Illustration: - - WINDSOR CASTLE FROM THE THAMES. -] - -Of course, I acceded without hesitation to the Professor’s proposal and -we selected a train, appointed a _rendezvous_, and agreed to go the -following morning. - -The Professor’s traveling companion was a “blue grass” doctor of -divinity, while I was courier, guide, and advance agent to the -“delegate,” sent by his admiring countrymen and brethren to unload some -ecclesiastical “thunder and lightning” on their conservative confrères -in the old land. The “delegate’s” wife was traveling with him as a sort -of balance wheel on his too impetuous energy and to see that he was not -imposed on by the overbearing foreigner; she was not averse to a little -vigorous sight-seeing when otherwise unemployed. They also joined the -party, which was completed by “Wee McGregor,” as the eight-year-old was -called, who looked to me for his traveling expenses. - -Having visited London before, and being possessed of an unearned -reputation as a _dragoman_, I felt it was incumbent on me to show the -party the best and quickest way to reach Windsor. Accordingly I hailed -one of those obsolete conveyances which the London City Fathers provide -for the traveler, to whom the conservation of energy is of more moment -than arriving at a destination. - -In due time, somewhat shaken but still in good humor, for the day was -yet young, we arrived at King’s Cross station on the Metropolitan -Railway, better known by the more modest and suggestive title of the -“Underground.” “Here,” I had said to the prospective sightseers, “we -shall get a train that will connect direct and without change at -Paddington station with the train for Windsor.” This was all true except -the “without change” clause. For this slight deviation from strict -veracity I have no apology to make. Indeed, I doubt whether I am entitled -to play the role of guide while so generous with the truth. - -I kept my tourists “rounded up” and prevented them from embarking in -various directions. As there were trains passing every two or three -minutes it seemed a waste of time not to take one and I had, as a -consequence, a very busy quarter of an hour. At last our train came, and, -after rushing madly up and down the platform the entire length of the -train, we found places, though in different “stalls.” - -When an American train arrives at a station you go in and find a seat. -When an English train, especially of the old style which is now happily -disappearing, arrives, you must first find a seat and then go in. You -trail up and down the platform and poke your nose into every compartment -answering to the class for which you have purchased tickets. Here is one -with two or three places vacant, but you have a party of four, and as -they are strangers in the country, you must keep them together to ensure -their alighting at the right place. Besides you naturally want to be -within speaking distance of one another. So you start back again to the -other end of the train, terrified every moment lest the engineer grow -weary of your bootless explorations, and decide to start. Ah! Here is a -vacant apartment at last, but just as you are about to step in with a -light heart you notice that it is marked “first class” and unfortunately -you are not a millionaire. You continue your search and find eventually -a vacant apartment of the class in which you are entitled to ride. Your -troubles are now ended; your party is seated; your _impedimenta_ are -laboriously stowed away in the racks, when, with envious nonchalance, -enters a smoker armed with a little cigarette that vomits smoke like -a factory chimney. The ladies are indignant; you rack your brain for -something sufficiently withering to say, and just as you are ready to -deliver, you notice, faintly etched on the window, the word “smoking.” -Now, if you were traveling in Austria, you would give the “guard” a -quarter to remove the label with the offensive word, and would settle -back virtuously into the leather cushions, but here, while the English -guard would be equally obliging—for a like “bakshish”—it is a more -serious matter to remove the door or window. In the meantime you have -left the smoker in quiet possession to fill the vacant space with clouds -of the fragrant weed. In despair you apply to the guard and when you -appropriately recognize his importance, he finds you a place in a moment. - -The stations on the “Underground” are open to the surface and are light -and airy, but when the train plunges under London, and the compartment -fills up with the gases, that have been accumulating down here for the -past thirty years, you realize that traveling on the “Underground” does -not differ widely from suicide by slow asphyxiation. - -The “delegate” put his silk handkerchief to his nostrils and looked -suspiciously at me. It requires some ten minutes to make the distance -between King’s Cross and Paddington, so he was unable to hold his breath -all the way. Every time he breathed I felt as if I had murdered a man. -My Tennessee friend and the Kentucky parson were not yet disposed to -be critical, so they chatted merrily, breathed regularly, and acted as -though these sulphur laden fumes were their “native air.” - -But after we had quitted Paddington station, and the train had taken its -last few plunges under ground; when we had actually shaken off the dust -and grime and roar of London, the beauty of the incomparable English -landscape began to make us glad. Patchwork hillsides, where tiny fields -are partitioned off by greenest hedges, lovely valleys, where brimming -streams shimmer their length along, came, one by one, into view. The -English streams have no visible banks. The turf, green as an emerald, -grows clear to the water’s brink and dangles its luxuriant growth into -the quiet brook, as a barefoot boy, playing truant, cools his feet -in some wayside stream, while the master’s wrath grows warm. These -rivers—for rivers I must call them, though a good athlete might almost -leap from side to side—are always full and seem as though the accidental -dropping in of a pebble would make them overflow. - -As hill and valley, hedge and garden, country home and quiet hamlet, -all of surpassing loveliness, swept past us, my entire party began to -fall under the spell of this exquisite beauty, and I felt that there had -arisen the unanimous, though unexpressed, conviction that now, at last, -the self-appointed guide was earning his salary. - -[Illustration: - - WINDSOR CASTLE FROM THE THAMES. -] - -As Windsor is distant from London by about forty minutes ride, the -tourist arrives at his destination fresh and “fit,” to use an expressive -English phrase. When we issued forth from the station we encountered, as -a matter of course, the ubiquitous hackman who, in all lands, stands ever -ready to drive you to all the places you especially do not want to visit. -The object of our pilgrimage was the Castle, distant a stone’s throw -from the station, so there was no occasion to provoke an unnecessary and -futile dispute with the “cabbie.” We next encountered an army of small -boys distributing handbills, on which were set forth, in eloquent terms, -the merits of the various “tea rooms” of the city, which unselfishly -cater to the comfort of the stranger. We accepted this service as a -matter of course, first, because it was gratuitous; second, because it -was the easiest way to get rid of the boy, and third, because, though a -sight-seer may pull through the day without the assistance of a hansom -or a “growler,” I have never known one who was not ready to take a -little refreshment, especially when he was traveling abroad. After we -had become thoroughly tired out, with climbing the steps of the Round -Tower and general sight-seeing, we found a cosy, clean and restful upper -room, where the actual bill of fare was not badly out of harmony with the -promises of the card. - -The town of Windsor, itself, possesses nothing of special interest to the -traveler. The Castle, situated in a commanding position on the Thames, -dominates the town from every point of view, and is, with its environs, -the sole reason for a visit. - -The group of buildings enclosed by the walls is nearly a mile in -circumference and has been the favorite home of most of the sovereigns of -England since the days of William the Conqueror. Each one has continued -the lavish expenditures of his predecessor to enrich and beautify it. -It fascinates, therefore, not only by its great beauty, the romance -suggested by wall and tower, but also, and especially, by the variety of -its architecture. Here we can study the master-builder’s art, as gate, -chapel, and tower step forth, in quick succession, to instruct us. The -space, enclosed by the walls of the castle, is divided into two wards—the -lower and the upper—by the great Round Tower, which occupies the brow of -a hill, or mound, commanding the upper ward, which is level, and looking -down upon the lower ward, which is situated on a gradual incline. The -walls are pinched together at the Tower, but swell out around either -ward, suggesting somewhat the figure eight. - -We arrived at Windsor by the Great Western Railway, and after walking up -a little hill, High Street, passing on the left the beautiful Jubilee -statue of Queen Victoria, we found ourselves at the main entrance of the -lower ward, Henry VIII’s gateway. Notice this splendid example of Tudor -architecture, built about 1510. Either side of the gateway is flanked -by a mighty tower, which you will notice has three sides to make more -effective the defence. Over the gateway, in a row, may be seen the badges -of Henry: the _fleur-de-lis_, suggesting the English claim to the French -crown; the Tudor Rose; and the portcullis, used so frequently after the -twelfth century to protect the gateway from sudden assault. - -My readers will remember that Henry was rather indulgent to himself in -the matter of marriages. He experienced, all told, six wives, of whom -Providence removed two, divorce set aside two more, and the executioner’s -axe cut short the career of the remaining pair. - -His second wife, Anne Boleyn, the most charming of the lot, whom Henry -first married, afterward divorcing her rival, paid the penalty of her -attractiveness, or coquetry, at the executioner’s block in the Tower of -London. She, with a gorgeous retinue attending her, was met at this gate -by Henry and welcomed to the place with the assurance that she would -shortly be its real mistress. All this, however, to the great regret of -the “delegate’s” wife, took place before our arrival. - -How different is the architecture of the Norman gate with its graceful -round towers! Here, in these chambers which you may see above the -entrance, and in the rooms of the towers themselves, were kept, during -the struggle between Crown and Parliament, many famous prisoners. - -As we entered the lower ward, by Henry VIII’s gateway, the beautiful -proportions of St. George’s Chapel rose before us on the left. Adjoining, -on the east, is Albert Memorial Chapel, the gem of the entire group. -Still traveling east and ascending the hill, we come first to the -residence of the Dean and Chapter, and then to the famous Round Tower. -Directly across from St. George’s the group of buildings is the residence -of the Military Knights, who date from the founding of the order of the -Garter, when Edward III established this to provide for the relief of -poor knights. It was called by Elizabeth, “Poor Knights of Windsor,” but -William IV took away its reproach by giving it the present name. - -These are the main features of the lower ward, the buildings being -grouped around a large balloon-shaped court. - -[Illustration: - - WINDSOR CASTLE, NORMAN GATEWAY. -] - -Beyond the Round Tower lies the upper ward, perfectly level, with -stately buildings on three sides of a square which contains a splendid -example of artistic gardening. The buildings on the north are the State -apartments, and those on the south and east the royal suites. This group -has twenty-four towers, seventeen state apartments, forty-eight rooms, -seventy-nine bedrooms, sixty-five sitting rooms, and rooms containing two -hundred and thirty-one beds for servants. - -Our first objective point was St. George’s Chapel. The exterior of this -building is very beautiful and singularly in harmony with the surrounding -structures. This effect the architect accomplished by avoiding the use -of the conventional church tower, while at the same time preserving the -ecclesiastical appearance. - -We found, within, a group of people in charge of a verger, who was -explaining to them the various objects of interest. We went our own -way and when we had finished, found that the verger and his flock had -departed and the door was locked. It felt, at first, a trifle like being -in jail, but conscious of our rectitude, we waited till the door opened -again and then passed out. As we had found the door open when we arrived -and had entered in unchallenged, it did not occur to us that the verger -considered it necessary to personally conduct us through the building and -bid us farewell when we left; nor did we think that we had in any way -slighted him till the Kentucky parson, who had remained behind to ask -a few questions, later reported that the ecclesiastical pathfinder had -enquired of him, with fine scorn, if “that aristocratic party belonged -to him.” The “aristocratic party,” was the professor, the “delegate” and -myself, who were now safely out of reach, while the verger’s fee jingled -merrily at the bottom of our pockets. - -On every hand, at Windsor, are posted notices forbidding the servants -to receive any gratuities, but we learned, that notwithstanding the -seemliness of such a regulation in such a place, none but a novice took -it seriously. Consequently, when we later visited the Royal Stables, we -emerged proudly from the ordeal after having deposited a shilling in the -ever ready hand of the guide. - -But to return to the chapel. It was begun by Henry I and mutilated as -usual by the soldiers of the Puritans, and restored again by Charles II -and his successors, but Victoria has perhaps done most for it. - -[Illustration: - - HENRY VIII GATEWAY. -] - -There are many tiny chapels around the various walls, in the fashion of -the churches of Europe. We noticed, especially, the Braye chapel to the -right of the entrance. On the walls hung a sword and swordbelt, showing -evident marks of service in the field. An inscription explained that they -belonged to Captain Wyatt-Edgall, who recovered the body of the Prince -Imperial, in Zululand. He, himself, was also killed in South Africa. The -same chapel contains the monument to Prince Imperial—son of Napoleon III -and Eugènie,—who fought with the English in South Africa, and there died. - -A translation of the inscription at the foot of the marble figure—a -figure of the recumbent prince, grasping his sword which lies along his -body—reads: “The well-beloved youth, the comrade of our soldiers, slain -in the African war, and thence carried to the tomb of his fathers, and -represented in funereal marble in this holy domicile of kings, Queen -Victoria receiveth as her guest.” - -There is also an interesting extract from the will of the prince, which -reads: “I shall die with a feeling of profound gratitude for her Majesty, -the Queen of England, and for the royal family, and for the country in -which, during eight years, I have received so cordial a hospitality.” - -The choir, a church within the church, is situated in the center of the -chapel and at the east end. A passage runs the entire way round the sides -and rear. It is raised some four feet above the level of the floor and -is a long gallery with two rows of lateral seats, and an organ, said to -be the finest choir organ in Europe, at the farthest end. The seats, -on either side, are the stalls of the Knights of the Garter. They are -most elaborately carved from floor to ceiling, decorated with crests and -emblems. - -The remains of Henry VIII and Lady Jane Seymour, who was neither divorced -nor beheaded, since she lived only a year after her marriage, are buried -beneath the center of the choir. Under the entire chapel a royal vault -was constructed by George III, cut out of the chalk rocks below. It is -seventy by twenty by fifteen feet and designed for eighty-one bodies. - -[Illustration: - - THE ROUND TOWER, WINDSOR CASTLE. -] - -Directly in the rear of St. George’s is Albert Memorial Chapel, the most -interesting feature, as well as the most artistic and costly creation at -Windsor. The chapel was begun by the pious, though much married, Henry -VIII, who soon abandoned it for Westminster. Constancy was, perhaps, not -one of Henry’s strong points. Wolsey, who was Henry’s pope and aspired -to be the real one, begged and obtained the chapel for himself, but -fell from Henry’s favor, as the ladies had done, before he could finish -it. When the Parliamentary forces obtained possession of Windsor, they -desecrated it as usual, and sold its plunder for $3,000. Wolsey’s -sarcophagus, which escaped, was removed by George III, three hundred -years later, to St. Paul’s, where it now holds the dust of Nelson. - -It is well known that Victoria decided to convert this chapel into a -memorial for the Prince Consort after his death. No expense was spared, -and when it was completed in 1874, its interior rivaled the most splendid -ecclesiastical structures in the world. - -The fourteen windows, with panels beneath thirteen of them, are dreams -of art. The windows contain portraits and arms of various kings, queens -and princes, and some symbolical figures. The panels beneath picture -scenes from the Old and New Testaments, suggestive of various virtues and -religious truths. The chapel contains in the center, besides the Prince’s -cenotaph, the tombs of the Dukes of Albany and Clarence. - -The Round Tower is the most picturesque feature of the castle. Nothing -is so interesting as a tower. Not a modern tower—a mere imitation—but -a real tower, with dungeons, where prisoners have clanked their chains -in despair, with great halls where knights in armor foregathered, with -secret passages and musty mysteries in every corner—a tower that has -lived on to see this age of civilization superimposed upon its own rough, -ready and bloody past. - -[Illustration: - - VICTORIA TOWER AND SOUTH SIDE. -] - -The tower is over three hundred feet in circumference and is built on the -top of a high mound in a most commanding situation. It is reached, after -one passes through the Norman Gate, by a long flight of steps, which -is continued up through the structure till the base of the turret is -reached. This flight is commanded by a cannon placed at the head of the -stairs. The turret, a good-sized tower itself, is built upon the top of -the old tower of George III. Within the turret, the stairs wind around a -massive bell, brought from Sevastopol. - -Finally the top is reached, three hundred and twenty-five feet from the -ground, and we walk round the ample promenade—the turret is twenty-five -feet wide—dumb in the presence of the loveliness before us. How beautiful -is an English landscape, with its living green, threaded here and there -by the silver sparkle of a stream. West and south we looked out over -Windsor forest and parks, while in the north Eton College was plainly -visible with the inevitable cricketers, dressed in white flannel, moving -to and fro over the matchless sward, or facing the “crease,” which is, I -believe, the “correct” name for the “pitcher’s box.” - -How much history and mystery might not the walls of this old tower, built -by Edward III, teach us, could they but speak! This tower once contained -the great round table of the Knights of the Garter and was the home of -the constable-governors, who were responsible for the safe keeping of the -state prisoners, among the most famous of whom have been John, of France, -and David, of Scotland. - -As illustration of the possible mysteries that may still lurk about the -tower, I will mention a recent discovery. While investigating a stone -cover with an iron handle, the mouth of a well was uncovered. It was -found to descend one hundred and sixty-four feet, to the level of the -Thames, and was lined up with masonry most of the way. - -From the turret a fine view is obtained of the state and private -apartments of the castle. These contain magnificent collections of rare -bric-a-brac and art objects of all kinds. Paintings, tapestries, and -ceramics of priceless worth, are kept in the various rooms and galleries. -The Van Dyck room recalls the fact that this Dutch artist was brought to -England, knighted and pensioned by Charles I. There are also a Zuccarelli -room and a Rubens room, with famous paintings from the artists whose -names they bear. - -Our next visit was paid to the Royal Stables. Here we were received at -an office, and after registering our names and nativity were put in -charge of guides. Words cannot do justice to the splendid appearance of -the well-matched horses, a large proportion of which were greys, and the -cleanliness and order of the stalls. Even the straw beneath the horses’ -feet was unruffled. At the foot of the stall was laid a nicely plaited -braid of straw, forming a pretty border, and on either side stood little -sheaves of straw, daintily bound, and presenting the appearance of a row -of sentinels down the long line. - -We were conducted through stable after stable, and shown horses for -all sorts of uses, and horses that were no longer of any use but were -pensioners of His Majesty, for services already rendered the State. Then -came the carriages. Carriages for royal purposes, and for State purposes -and for “breaking in” purposes. - -What impressed me most was an old chair on wheels—such as one sees -invalids moved about in. It was as commonplace looking as one could -well imagine. To it were attached a pair of shafts, and I recognized -it at once as there rose before me the vision of the Queen, with broad -brimmed straw hat, and accompanied only by a little child, usually one -of her grandchildren, while a humble donkey ambled through the grounds -of Windsor and pulled the improvised carriage. Such was the picture I -had seen in the Sunday school papers, and now the sight of the actual -carriage gave the much needed air of reality. This mode of taking -exercise emphasized at once both the Queen’s independence and simplicity -of manner. - -The Great Park, adjoining Windsor Castle, contains 18,000 acres. Within -it is located Frogmore House, another royal residence, near which is -the Royal Mausoleum. Everyone must have been impressed, at some time -or other, with the faithfulness of the late queen to the memory of the -Prince Consort. Throughout her long widowhood, she seems to have lived -in the presence of his death. The monuments, that perpetuate his name, -unless one looks at their artistic value, seem an extravagant waste of -money. Certainly he rendered no conspicuous service to the State, so that -we are justified in regarding these costly memorials as tributes of the -loyal and undying love which the Queen cherished for her husband. - -Royal marriages, that are so frequently the result of political -exigencies, are not always happy. Perhaps it would not be wide of the -mark to say, are not often happy. All the greater reason, therefore, that -this one, which was conspicuously congenial, should iterate its testimony. - -On the fourteenth of December, the anniversary of the Prince’s death, -the Dean of Windsor regularly held a memorial service at the mausoleum, -during the lifetime of the Queen. Those who had obtained tickets were -admitted to the mausoleum after the service, but this was the only date -in the year when it might be seen. - -The foundation stone of the structure was laid by the Queen, herself, and -contains the following words: - - “His mourning widow, the queen, directed all that is mortal - of Prince Albert, to be placed in this sepulchre, A. D. 1862. - Farewell, well-beloved: Here at last I will rest with thee; with - thee, in Christ, I will rise again.” - -Windsor Castle has had a long and varied history; it has been associated -closely with many of the kings of England and with stirring scenes of -English history, but for many, many years to come, its mention will call -to memory the good and universally beloved woman—Victoria. - - - - - THE FINEST HOTEL. - - A SKETCH OF LIFE IN THE MOUNTAINS OF KENTUCKY. - - By A. Lytle Peterman. - - -“Boys, is there a hotel in this place?” the traveler asked of two -youngsters lounging near, as he stood, suit-case in hand, on the cinder -path by the track, looking inquiringly about him, while the train pulled -off down the road. - -“What place?” putting answer and inquiry into one. It aroused their -interest and surprise to hear Montvale called a “place.” - -“This village, or hamlet, or station, or whatever you call it—is there a -hotel hereabout?” he replied, a little impatient and determined to make -himself understood. - -“A hotel? Yes, _sir_,” answered the larger of the boys. - -“Then I’ll thank you and pay you to show me to it,” the stranger said, as -he brightened up, throwing off the lost look that had struck his face at -the same moment his foot had struck the cinders, when he stepped from the -train. - -“All right; up this a-way,” the larger boy answered, as he turned into -the path, and the smaller fell in behind him. The traveler and his -suit-case, side by side, brought up the rear. The boys were agreeable, -but not over-polite, neither thinking to say, “I’ll take the baggage.” - -When they had gone perhaps a hundred yards, the traveler’s eyes all the -while seeking sight of a hotel and finding none, the leader stopped -suddenly, raised his arm, pointed his finger back down the railway, and -remarked, “The _finest_ hotel is ’way down hyander.” - -“Very well,” said the stranger, an experienced traveler, therefore past -the “kicking” stage; “take me to the finest.” - -The procession faced about, headed down the track, retraced its steps, -passed the depot, and continued on its way. - -But we are not yet to “the finest hotel.” In fact, there is time to “view -the landscape o’er” before we arrive, especially as the boys are quiet, -remarkably quiet for Kentucky boys—“mighty say-nothin’ shavers,” as the -landlady afterwards described them to her guest. - -It was dusk, on a Sunday evening in September. The rain had just begun -falling gently—the prelude to the first cool snap of the autumn. The -stranger had left the train to spend the night, preparatory to his -cross-country trip on the following day. - -Montvale is a station on the Chesapeake & Ohio Railway, in the mountains -of Kentucky, seventy-five or a hundred miles east of Lexington. It is -of consequence chiefly because it is on the road to somewhere else—the -point of departure from the railway to the country lying beyond. Contrary -to the rule, its inhabitants seemed to realize its urban limitations, -especially the meagerness of its population. The two boys, unprepared for -such compliment, were surprised to hear it called a “place.” - -At that time, less than a decade ago—and doubtless ever since,—Montvale -straggled around over a wide expanse of flat woods and weedy fields, -between ranges. Space to spare was the most striking thing about it. The -land, too swampy for tillage, except after elaborate artificial drainage, -was “good to fill a hole in the ground and hold the world together.” - -The houses, after the “boxed” style of carpentry, seemed not to have -been built, but to have grown up, like the weeds. They had never peeped -into a paint-bucket; their complexion was that of the crawfish land on -which they stood. Most of the doors, off the hinges, whether they ever -had any or not, stood leaning against the inside wall, ready in case a -storm or other emergency arose. - -There was little direct communication between the homes, partly because -the weeds overhung the pig-trails of travel; partly because it was about -a Sabbath-day’s journey from each house to its nearest neighbor; partly -because all paths led to or through the depot yard, as the literal -and figurative center of the hamlet. The railway station was at once -the market, the park, the amusement hall, the shipping center, the -business section, the social resort, the lounging place, the nursery and -playground of all Montvale. The railway track, with the path beside it, -was the main and only street of the “place.” - -Just as the traveler was wondering if they were going to tramp down to -the next station, the leader said, “Out this hyer way,” turning off -to the right, through a sea of white-topped weeds. The rain was still -falling, and night had come on. A few pale rays of the moon, struggling -through the clouds, showed the boys’ heads now and then bobbing above the -watery weeds, like porpoises at play on the surface of the ocean. - -At last, the little procession reached a plank fence with a gap in it. -The boys stopped, confronted the traveler, and the leader said, “_This_ -is the finest hotel anywhar about hyer.” - -“Where?” the stranger asked. - -“Right yander—go through this gate,” tapping with his hand a piece of -frame-work standing across the path. - -The boys took the proffered pay, dropped it into their pockets, thrust -their hands down to keep it from getting out, and plunged again into the -depths of the weedy sea. - -The traveler peered through the rain and fog into the yard, where the -weeds had lost so much of their stature that he thought he must be -nearing the shore. He picked up the gate leaning across the path, from -panel to panel of the fence, and set it out of the way, remarking, -“Everything about here is off its hinges—I’m nearly off myself.” - -He approached the “hotel,” consisting mostly of “boxed” lean-to, and -rested one foot upon the sill of the shed—by courtesy known as the -“porch.” He paused; in the language of eastern railway danger signs, he -thought he would “Stop, Look and Listen.” Silence and the clouds reigned. -No sound but the patter of the drops on the roof. No light gleamed from -the skimpy window, nor crept through the generous cracks in the wall. - -He rapped at the door; no answer. He rapped again—louder; still no -answer. There must be nobody at home in “the finest hotel.” So he -hammered the rickety, raky, crazy shutter just because there wasn’t, till -it shook, rattled and shivered, and the boards on the rear wall creaked -and groaned in sympathy. - -A cracked, rasping, whining voice from the inner depths called out, -“Well!” - -“Madam”—for that voice could belong to none but a crone—“I want to get to -stay over night.” - -“This is a purty time o’ night to be a-prowlin’ ’round, a-draggin’ uv -honest, hard-workin’ folks out’n the bed ter wait on ye,” the landlady -replied. The reprimand came mixed with the rattle of straw-ticks and the -rustle of bedclothing. - -“I am sorry,” the traveler answered, “but I came as early as I could. -Really, I am neither the conductor, engineer, nor superintendent of that -train. Don’t you keep hotel?” - -“Yes, sorter, a leetle, sometimes, when I feel like it. But can’t ye wait -tell a body gits on her cloze; ur will ye jist come in anyhow, whether ur -no?” - -“Oh, certainly, I’ll gladly wait,” the traveler said; “take your own -time—mine, too.” - -“Whar air you frum?” asked the voice from within, somewhat muffled as it -poked its head up through a calico dress. - -“I don’t see what that has to do with it, but I came directly from -Lexington.” - -“Yes, I ’lowed so;” she answered. “I jist thought it ’uz some o’ them -Bluegrass fellers what sets up all night and sleeps all day—what hain’t -nothin’ to do but keep awake them that has to work.” - -After taking time enough to have arrayed herself for presentation to the -queen, Madame Calico now approached the door, holding a little sputtering -brass lamp—apparently the model of the first invention—in one hand, while -she vainly tried to tie her apron strings with the other. She knocked -up the wooden latch with her elbow and a clatter, and the door swung -open. Holding high her lamp—a rustic model for “Liberty Enlightening the -World”—she waited for the stranger to speak. - -“Madame, I’m very sorry—,” he began. - -“Yes, I know it,” she snapped, cutting him off from the remainder of his -sentence. “’Bout ever’ thing ’at comes frum Lex’n’ton’s sorry, mighty -sorry. Guess they’s some good people down thar, but I hain’t never seed -’em. They don’t never come up hyer. I _reckin_ you kin stay, but I can’t -give ye no bed all to yerself; an’ I tell ye now, ye needn’t to ax it.” - -Meanwhile, Madame Calico had admitted him and led the way through a -side door into an adjoining room which served as a lounging hall for -guests, whether “by the day” or “by the week.” Having learned how to make -allowances for the moods of hotels, landlords and landladies, he had -followed meekly, without invitation. - -By “the dim and flaring lamp,” he now caught the outlines of a -half-finished stairway winding up to the garret. There was no railing to -this gangway; safety consisted in keeping away from the brink. Madame -Calico stood on the third step, her countenance and kerosene jet beaming -contemptuously down upon the upturned face of the hesitating guest at the -bottom. - -“Madam,” he asked, hearing, as he thought, a chorus of snores winding -down the gangway, “does anybody else sleep up there?” - -“No, they hain’t nobody hardly now, sence the mill ’uz shot down.” Rather -an evasive answer. - -“How many?” he inquired. - -“The mill is shot down, an’ most uv the hands has quit work, an’ they -hain’t many stays hyer now.” - -The guest, growing insistent, asked the third time, as he took a single, -hesitating step upward, “Well, who are they—can’t you say just how many?” - -Madame Calico, now on the defensive, grew more amiable—rather, less -hostile—, but again took refuge in “the mill” and its shutting down: -“Sence the mill wuz shot down, the’ve mos’ly all went away; they’s hardly -any ub ’em left now.” - -The guest was growing impatient, as she could readily see. Not liking the -outlook, he stopped, turned as if to descend, and once more demanded, -“Well, Madam, will you tell me just how many or not?” - -She was loath to lose her guest and his pay, “after a-bein’ drug out’n” -her bed. So she at last came to the point, but in her own roundabout -way: “Sence the mill ’uz shot down they hain’t nobody sca’cely sleeps -up hyer—nobody but Sam Thompson, an’ Tim Turney, an’ Joe Alley, an’ Bob -Redford, an’ Jack Johnson, an’ Bill Ed Jeckley—I b’lieve them’s all—oh, -yes, an’ Less Wilson. You kin sleep with Bill Ed, but he won’t sleep -nowhar exceptin’ the fore side uv the bed.” - -“Well,” the traveler muttered to himself, “in an adventure, even a -formidable certainty is better than a gloomy doubt.” - -They had now reached the landing at the angle in the wall. Madame Calico -handed the little lamp to the guest, and turned to go, saying, “You kin -bunk up with Bill Ed.” - -“But how shall I know Bill Ed from the others?” he asked. - -“W’y, he’s in the empty bed by hisself; t’others is a-sleepin’ three an’ -four tergether. Bill Ed won’t sleep ’ith none uv ’em, ’caze, he says, -he ruther sleep ’ith a meal-sack uv augers an’ hammers then ’ith a man. -Sometimes I jist have to slip a stranger like you in terhin’ him, an’ -Bill Ed don’t know nothin’ about it tell mornin’.” - -As she clambered down the gangway, hugging the wall, and the new guest -crept up into the garret, he called out, “What time do we rise in the -morning?” - -“Oh, most any time,” she answered. “Sence the mill ’uz shot down, ever’ -feller jist suits hisself about crawlin’ out.” - -“About what hour?” he asked. - -“Well, when the mill ’uz a-runnin’ we used to git up purty soon, but -sence hit ’uz shot down we’re all sorter lazy-like, so we purty giner’ly -al’ays have late eatin’.” - -“But, Madam, please name the hour for breakfast,” he insisted. - -“Well, you kin do purty much to suit yerself sence the mill ’uz shot -down. Jest sleep ez late as yer please. We al’ays eat late when comp’ny’s -hyer, sence the mill ’uz shot down. So you git yer hands an’ face washed -an’ ready by four o’clock’ll do.” - -No wonder the mill hands went to bed before nightfall! They had to, in -order to get in in time to get out. - -Till now, the sounds coming down from the garret had blended into -something like harmony. When the new guest neared the top of the gangway, -it seemed to him like poking his head into a den of infuriated wild -beasts. The roaring, growling and groaning made “confusion dire and -dreadful din.” - -A glance around caused him to wonder how many slept in that one room -before “the mill ’uz shot down.” - -The bedsteads were made from pieces of undressed scantling, nailed -together; not one of them had ever felt a plane or seen a chisel. The -little forest of posts and frames looked like a railway trestle; and -the groans and sighs issuing from it sounded as if an express train had -just plunged over, mangling passengers and crew. The mill “hands” lay -uncovered in that stifling atmosphere, tumbled and tangled into all -shapes and attitudes, looking like a band of contortionists struck dead, -each in the midst of his favorite trick. There lay Bill Ed—two hundred -fifty pounds of mountaineer—spread along the front railing, his arm -thrown out and hanging over, to keep him from rolling back and wedging -himself under the rafters of the roof. His was the “empty bed”—fairly on -the way to occupancy! - -The new guest, lifting his lamp and peering over huge Bill Ed to the -sleeping place beyond, observed to himself, “In the language of the sweet -girl graduate, ‘Beyond the Alps lies Italy.’ The ‘valley’ is all right, -if I can ever scale the mountain.” - -But he found an easier way. He undressed, sneaked into the “valley” from -the foot of the bed, and taking care not to thrust his nose against the -roof, he stretched himself out, but not to sleep—to listen! His entrance -had not disturbed the snorers. In fact, it had seemed to give them a new -inspiration, for the expiration grew louder. They might have supplied -steam enough to keep the mill from shutting down. They made up a whole -band of wind instruments, each blowing a different horn. The listener now -had time to analyze and classify them. - -One sounded like a March gust whistling through the splinters on the -end of a hickory rail. Another had the hiss of the air-brake under a -passenger coach, when the train is about to start. There was one gasp -like the continued tearing of brown domestic, and another that made you -look around for a stream of broken stones pouring into a tin bucket. One -long-winded horn, out of tune with all others, hissed like a jet of steam -escaping from the steam-chest when a heavy freight engine is beginning -to move. Bill Ed, evidently the sawyer of the mill, had a long-drawn -snort like the sound of a circular saw ripping through a seasoned oak, -closing with the confused ring of the steel as it clears the end of the -log, combined with the clatter of the “carriage” rushing back for a fresh -start. - -To sleep amid such a din was a problem. By and by the traveler dozed -off, but not out of reach of that roar—it lingered in the distance. At -last it ceased—the snorers had risen and gone! - -Just when well asleep—so it seemed to him—, a bell—it must have been -first cousin to the little lamp—tinkled on the gangway. The traveler -withdrew from the crevice between rafter and railing—where he had -literally lodged,—and turned over. - -By and by a cow-bell bellowed, not rang, in the lounging hall below. The -traveler turned over once more, yawned, slumbered again. - -After a time—the clock knew how long—, a conch-shell thrust up the -gangway roared; and the sleeper, thinking it a through freight, pushed -on, making for the next station. - -Another silence. At last, behold, Madame Calico stood at the foot of the -gangway, and shouted: “Air you a-gona git up to-day? Ur do ye want me to -git yer breakfas’ and then drag ye out’n the bed, an’ put yer cloze on -ye, an’ wash ye, an’ chaw yer victuals fur ye?” - -“I’ll be down in a moment, Madam,” the traveler answered. - -“Ever’body but you has eat an’ gone, an’ done furgot hit, by this time,” -she replied. “You’ll fin’ the wash-pan a-settin’ on the porch.” - -He arose, dressed hurriedly, made his way down, and by raking around on -the “porch,” finally stumbled against the wash-pan. The morning was still -dark, but a gray spot was in the eastern sky—daylight was on its way to -“the finest hotel.” - -Toilet finished, with the aid of his handkerchief in place of a towel, -he began wondering where the dining-room could be. He heard no footsteps -about the “hotel,” and search revealed neither kitchen nor fire. Peering -around, he at last caught sight of smoke curling up from a stick-and-clay -chimney some hundred yards away, beyond a bay of the weedy sea he had -crossed the evening before. Parting the weeds overhanging the path was -much like swimming across. - -Breakfast—varied, wholesome, well-cooked—was on the table—had been for -an hour or more. Madame Calico, first seeing him seated and busy, then -remarked, “You’ll jist have to wait on yerself, but I reckin ye ain’t -noways bashful. I’ll have to go back to the hotel to clean up atter ye. -It’s a blessed thing the mill’s shot down, fur we couldn’t a-had no sich -layin’ up in the bed a-soakin’ an’ a-sobbin’ this time o’ day, ’way hyer -might’ nigh dinner.” He was not sorry to make his meal in silence, peace -and the landlady’s absence. - -Breakfast finished, the guest made his way back toward his lodging place. -Turning the corner and confronting the entrance, he read, on a board -over the shed, the name of “the finest hotel,” “Traveler’s Rest;” and -immediately, by the law of contrast, his memory reverted to the garret, -the snoring, Bill Ed and the “empty bed,”—to the hand-bell, the cow-bell -and the conch-shell. - -Just before he paid his bill and left, in quest of a turnout for the -day’s drive, Madame Calico, still in the act of cleaning up, favored him -with her views on affairs in and about Montvale, and divers and sundry -bits of information—some of a startling kind. “No,” she said, “the hotel -business don’t amount to nothin’ much sence the mill ’uz shot down. Wunst -in a while some feller comes stragglin’ along way hyander in the night, -when all honest white folks is asleep, but the trouble o’ waitin’ on ’im -an’ cleanin’ up atter ’im’s more’n the pay. - -“Them revenue men an’ marshals an’ sich rakin’s an’ scrapin’s uv the -yearth has might nigh ruint Montvale. A passel uv ’em comes here t’other -day—jist week afore last—an’ axes me ’bout Sam Ben Jeckley’s ’stillery, -whar it wuz. Sam Ben is Bill Ed’s brother. An’ I up an’ tells ’em I don’t -know nothin’ about it—hain’t never seed it, nur smelt it, nur tasted it, -nur been about it, nur had nothin’ to do with it, in no shape, size, -form, nur fashion. - -“They said they knowed it ’uz around hyer somewhar. An’ sir, they -rummaged over this lan’ an’ country a-s’archin’ fur that ’stillery—hit uz -the mill the hands worked at. Atter cavortin’ aroun’ two ur three days, -like a lot o’ male-cows a-tarrin’ up a paster, they afinally finds the -mill—’stillery, as they called it—about two miles frum hyer. - -“An’ they taken axes an’ smashed the whole thing tell they wuz nuther -ha’r nur hide uv it left. An’ they spilt out three tanks o’ sour-mash -byer, an’ we hain’t had none fur the table sence. It beats all uv yer -sasafac tea, yer spicewood tea, an’ yer Californy byer. - -“They poured out five barl’s uv the best whisky—’cordin’ to what’s said -uv it—that ever went to town on ’lection day. They say jist one drink -’ould run a man wil’ enough fur the ’sylum, an’ one drap ’ould make a -rabbit pick a qua’rl with a bull-dog, ef he had to spit in his face to do -it. - -“It’s all sech ez that has ruint the country—stark-nater’ly wiped -business out’n Montvale. The dirty, low-flunged, lazy good-fur-nothin’ -imps uv the devil, prowlin’ aroun’, ’stroyin’ what other people’s sweat -has earnt! - -“But still they wuzn’t satisfied! Then they went up above the -mill—’stillery, as they called it—, an’ drawed the’r Winchesters an’ -Smith & Westerns, an’ farred bullets all through the ruff, an’ poked -the door ez full o’ holes ez a sifter. They jest blowed the whole thing -bodyaciously all to flugens an’ flinderations, with the’r guns an’ -pistols. - -“An’ that’s how the mill come to be shot down,” she added, as her parting -guest once more lifted the gate aside. - -“Good day, Madam,” he said, as he lifted it back. - -“Wush ye well,” she answered. “Ef ye’re ever hyer agin, come to see us—I -_reckin_ we kin stand ye, an’ Bill Ed won’t know nothin’ about it tell -he’s up an’ out. He may be gone by that time any way, fur he’s speenied -to Feder’l Court up at Louisville purty soon, fur a witness ’gin the -government, to swar Sam Ben an’ tother ’shiners out’n trouble.” - -“Yes,” said the traveler to himself, “when I put up again at ‘the finest -hotel,’ Bill Ed will be gone—to Federal Court, or some lower or higher -tribunal.” - -[Illustration] - - - - - INDEFINITELY POSTPONED. - - By Eva Williams Malone. - - [During the period immediately following the Civil War, many - former slaves, after living in matrimonial harmony for years, - were “married over again.” The writer recalls several such - instances on her father’s plantation in Tennessee.] - - -Mr. Josiah Crabtree, gentleman of color, Grand Master of the Lodge of -Colored Masons and holder of various other offices of emolument and -trust, had, metaphorically speaking, run against a snag. Being a plain -and simple man of direct methods, the ornate made small appeal to his -mentality. However, Mr. Crabtree had consented to argue the matter; and, -in differences matrimonial, the husband who argues is lost. - -“But, Penelope,” he began—he always called his wife Penelope when they -disagreed, possibly because she disliked the name—“Penelope, what’s de -use ob it? Here we is been libin’ togedder, happy an’ contented wid de -few words Uncle Jake said ober us dat ebenin’ in de cabin on de ol’ -plantation. Dey tuk us all fro’ war times, an’ we ain’t nebber fit yit; -an’ what in de name o’ peace you want t’ hop up an’ git mahried all ober -agin at dis late day fur, beats my time! You ought t’ know by now dat I -ain’t gwine quit you; an’ effen you ain’t pleased wid me, all you got t’ -do is t’ say de word.” - -Mrs. Crabtree tossed her comely black head, and said petulantly: “’Pears -lak I can’t git no notion o’ style or keepin’ up wid de pussession in -yo’ nigger haid! You don’t seem t’ hab no mo’ ambitions dan a mole! You -t’ink jes’ ’case we-alls had suttin’ ways in slave times, dem ways gwine -fit de presen’ suckumstances. In cose it were ’missible for us t’ g’long -satisfied wid de few words from Uncle Jake den; but dat don’t prove it’s -de propper t’ing _now_! We’se innerpennant ’Merican citterzens dese days; -we’se got as good a right t’ go t’ de Cote house as de next un.” - -“Fo’ de Lawd, Penelope! you ain’t gwine trot me t’ de Cote House effen I -gib in t’ you ’bout dis mattah, is you?” - -“You got t’ go t’ de Cote House fo’ de license, you po’ fool nigger you! -All de ladies an’ gemmens in our S’ciety is bein’ mahried ober agin, wid -a license an’ a ring, an’ a preacher, an’ flowers an’ sech! It make me -feel reel slavish, it sho’ do, t’ go on libin’ lak we is been. I’m de -Seccertary o’ de Good S’maritans, an’ Sist’ Hapgood ain’t nothin’ but -a privit member; yit her an’ Brer Hapgood done been mahried agin las’ -mont’ wid a gol’ ring an’ dat beutiful piece writ about ’em in de paper. -It make me feel pintedly lef’ out in de col’—it suttinly do;” and a few -self-pitying tears fell on the shirt bosom Mrs. Crabtree was ironing. - -[Illustration: - - “I’m de Seccertary o’ de Good S’maritans.” -] - -“But what you gwine do ’bout Orleeny an’ Cato?” asked Mr. Crabtree, -referring to the ebon-hued pledges of their conjugal love. - -“Do? Nothin’ ’tall; ain’t nothin’ t’ be did! Des let ’em come ’long t’ -dere Ma’s an’ Pa’s weddin’, an’ unnerstan’ dat effen we wuz bawn in -slavery, an’ got mahried by jumpin’ de broomstick, we’se keepin’ up wid -de pussession now. Mis’ Hapgood had her Aleck as one o’ de ushers when -her an’ he’s pa got mahried las’ mon’; so we’ll des let our Orleeny be de -maid o’ honnah. Dat’s de berry lates’ style.” - -So, despite his perfect content with matters as they were, Mr. Crabtree -listened to the siren voice, and finally consented, after twenty years of -apparent matrimony, to have the entire thing done over again according to -post-bellum methods, and in a style befitting American citizens living -in the full blaze of an amended constitution. Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Crabtree -were to be married again; by a preacher, with a license, in a church, -with a gold ring. Orleeny was to be maid of honor, and Cato, in all the -glory of white cotton gloves and other festal accessories, was to be -usher in chief. In his honest soul Mr. Crabtree thought the whole thing -unmitigated nonsense; but, like many a man with a lighter skin, concluded -that, if nothing else would make his wife happy and give her proper éclat -before the members of her S’ciety, he would consent to be a reluctant -victim on the altar of matrimonial precedent! - -“Effen you gwine do the t’ing, you might ez well do it right”—was his -conclusion, in which his progressive wife fully coincided. A tidy little -sum that had gradually accumulated in the bank was drawn out; and -preparations for the belated nuptials went on apace. It was to be not -only a church wedding, but a S’ciety wedding likewise, where the various -“Orders” with which Mr. and Mrs. Crabtree affiliated were to appear in -full regalia and lend spectacular glory to the occasion. - -[Illustration: - - A few self-pitying tears fell on the shirt bosom Mrs. Crabtree - was ironing. -] - -“Dere ain’t nothin’ fitten to be bought in dis heah measly little town,” -argued Mrs. Crabtree. “We’ll des git on de cyars an’ go ober t’ de county -seat an’ lay in de trosso; you’ll hatter go dere for de license anyhow.” - -By the time they had purchased a “trosso” befitting a sixteen-year-old -bride, Mr. Crabtree’s arms were heavy-laden. The bride-to-be, radiant -with visions of her coming loveliness, beamed upon him and insisted that -an entire suit of black broadcloth for the groom was indispensable. - -“Why, Pennie, it ’pears lak dat las’ blue suit dat ol’ Mas’ gin me ’ud -do berry well. We could shine up de brass buttons an’ freshen it up wid -benzine—” protested Mr. Crabtree, with prudent consideration for his fast -diminishing exchequer. - -“Now, honey,” insisted Mrs. Crabtree in her most coquettish manner, “you -don’t ’spose I’m gwine ’low a good-lookin’ man lak you t’ ma’ch up de ile -in dat ol’ blue suit, an’ me des ez fresh ez de mawnin’ jew in dat white -swiss an ’dat long veil! An’ you de Master o’ de Lodge, too? It ’ud be -scan’lous!” - -So the broadcloth suit was added to the multitudinous bundles; and, at -the suggestion of Mrs. Crabtree, deposited with their grocer for safe -keeping. Then the bridal pair hastened towards the courthouse to procure -the license. When this priceless document had been filled in with due -solemnity, Mr. and Mrs. Crabtree felt their ante-nuptial arrangements -were well-nigh perfected. As, arm in arm, and at peace with all the world -they ambled towards the grocery store to reclaim their relinquished -packages, Mrs. Crabtree exclaimed: - -“Lawsee, Si! we done furgit de ring!” - -The selection of the golden circlet that was to bind them in renewed -wedded security was so momentous a question that the sun was slipping -behind the hills before it was satisfactorily accomplished. At this -juncture the absorbed bridal party recalled the fact that it must be -nearly train time. - -“We’ll des race ober t’ de grocery sto’ an’ grab up our bundles an’ scoot -t’ de depo’—” urged Mr. Crabtree as he impelled his panting companion -onward. - -“Your bundles? Ah, yes; to be sure,” said the custodian of the “trosso;” -“they’re all right. The colored man you sent after them carried them to -the station some time ago.” - -“De cullud man whot I sont atter em?” ejaculated Mr. Crabtree, with -bulging eyes. - -“Yes, he said you had been delayed, and would go straight to the train -from the courthouse. Isn’t that all right?” - -“Golly! I should say it wan’t all right!” cried the prospective groom, -forgetting in the stress of the moment the dignity becoming the Master -of the Lodge. “I ain’t never sont nobody atter dem bundles; I wouldn’ a -trusted ’em wid de preacher hisse’f effen he’d a been a dark-complected -genterman! What for looks was dat thievin’ nigger?” - -The grocer’s face wore a look of puzzlement: - -“Why, I couldn’t tell for my life. I didn’t notice him specially; I just -supposed of course you sent him. Better go over to the station—maybe -you’ll find your stuff there all right.” - -But this cheerful prophecy failed of fulfillment, as no clue to the -missing “trosso” or its mysterious purloiner could be gained. - -“Dem Jingo mines closed down yistiddy, an’ dis heah town’s full o’ -loafin’ thievin’ niggers—” Mr. Crabtree explained to his wife after -two hours’ diligent search had failed to disclose any clue to thief or -packages; “some ob ’em is hyerd us ’scussin’ our plans, an’ has followed -us an’ swiped dat trosso.” - -Which very plausible solution did credit to Mr. Crabtree’s powers of -discernment. - -Weary, footsore, with blighted hopes and flabby pocket-book, a -disgruntled colored gentleman and lady boarded the midnight train for -Ducktown. On the lady’s finger a golden circlet gleamed in mocking irony; -from the gentleman’s coat pocket a superfluous marriage license protruded. - -“What you gwine do about it?” the gentleman finally took heart of grace -and demanded of his sulky spouse. - -“Don’t ax me what I’m gwine do! Effen I tole you, you’d be sho’ t’ put in -an’ do sumpin t’ spile de whole puffommance. You might a knowed sumpin -gwine happen t’ dat trosso when you tuhn it loose.” - -With true feminine logic Mrs. Crabtree entirely overlooked the fact that -the relinguishment of the packages was her own suggestion. - -“I can tell you one t’ing,” she resumed with asperity, “dere ain’t gwine -be no weddin’ wid dat trosso gone a glimmerin’! You can des put dat in -yo’ pipe an’ smoke it!” - -Later, as Mr. Crabtree extinguished the candle before retiring, he -observed that his wife took a vial labelled “_Ipecac_” and stealthily -deposited it beneath her pillow. But for this timely observation, the -violent illness with which Mrs. Crabtree aroused the household the next -morning would doubtless have caused graver concern in Mr. Crabtree’s -kindly soul. - -For some days Orleeny, whose epistolary attainments were the pride of the -Crabtree household, was closeted with her suffering parent; and later, -each individual who had been bidden to the intercepted nuptials received -the following announcement: - -“Owing to the suddent illness of the Bride, the marriage of Mr. and Mrs. -Josiah Crabtree have been indeffanately bosboned.” - - - - - TO ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. - - BY ISABELLA HOWE FISK. - - “Carry the lad that was born to be king over the sea to Skye.” - - - Thoughts wait upon me, grateful thoughts that throng - Prayer-wise and eager. To the master’s feet - I fain would speed them, offering tribute meet. - But, mute for very love, I cannot voice my song. - Dear chief of utterance, I have lingered long - As at deep wells in shimmering noons of heat, - And like dumb beasts that drain the waters sweet, - I, too, have quenched my thirst, and, silent have grown strong. - Dear Louis—best of kings to bear the name. - I think a smile still quivers on thy face - That oval-wise, soul-white and bravely strong, - Bears eyes, that look low loves and lives to shame. - Thou, unawares, hast learned new lore of upward ways, - And wondering taught the words—“The king can do no wrong.” - - - - - TRAINING SCHOOLS IN TENNESSEE AND THE SOUTH. - - By James H. Kirkland, D.C.L., Ph.D. - - Illustrated by views of the Campus, Vanderbilt University. - - -It is the purpose of this paper to describe an educational movement that -has grown largely out of the influence of Vanderbilt University. In its -relation toward secondary schools this institution has been impelled by -the necessity of securing students. At the opening of the University -there were two methods of procedure open. One was to put the requirements -for admission at a point where they could easily be met even by untrained -pupils; the other was to adopt a high standard, exclude unprepared -students, and accept the burden of getting them ready to meet these -requirements. It has been this latter policy that has brought about the -vital connection between Vanderbilt University and a large number of -preparatory schools. - -Southern educational conditions are bad enough now, but they were far -worse in 1875, the year Vanderbilt University opened its doors. At that -time the public school systems of the South were striving to get under -way and make some impression on the mass of illiterates. Nothing could -be attempted outside a few favored cities in the way of public high -schools. The common schools were running ninety-three days in the year, -spending 81 cents per capita of population and meagerly educating 45 -per cent of the school population. Clearly it was useless to await the -coming of the public high school. The old antebellum academies for the -most part had passed out of existence. Here and there a few survived, -preserving charters that antedated the war and memories of happier and -more prosperous existence. If the early copies of the reports of the -Commissioner of Education are consulted there will be found few secondary -schools having any historic background. The Episcopal High School near -Alexandria, Va., has a charter dating from 1854. The Abingdon Male -Academy was organized in 1822, and the Bingham School at Mebaneville, -N. C., in 1793. These and quite a number of others opened again after -the end of the Civil War, but most of them had a brief and uncertain -career. In the report for 1877, the earliest one at hand as this is -written, we find also mentioned the old Mt. Zion Institute of Winnsboro, -S. C., then in charge of R. Means Davis, who was afterwards prominently -known in the educational history of that state. Others are the Hanover -Academy, Taylorsville, Va., the Yeates School, Belleville, Va.; Fletcher -Institute, Thomasville, Ga.; Dawson Institute, White Plains, Ga. The -Madison Academy, Rutledge, Tenn., has now become a public high school, -the Sam Houston Academy at Jasper, Tenn., has given place to Pryor -Institute, and Green River Academy at Elkton, Ky., to the Vanderbilt -Training School at the same place. Of all those mentioned only two, the -Episcopal High School and the Bingham School, seemed to be really taking -up the task of preparing students for college. Each of these sent ten -students to college from the class of 1877. - -As an attempt to meet the educational needs of the South, quite a large -number of new schools sprang into being between 1870 and 1880. These were -generally considered academies or secondary schools, but undoubtedly -most of their pupils were of an elementary age. In many cases the -teachers were unprepared for their tasks. They were doing the best they -could, trying to instruct according to the needs of their pupils and -trying to make a living for themselves. Many an old soldier and many a -good woman, whose property was gone and whose natural supporters had -fallen on the battle field, took up these opportunities to earn a scant -subsistence. From such schools, few if any students went to college. The -preparation was insufficient, the atmosphere of school life was not such -as to awaken a desire for a college education, and the colleges made no -effort to get in touch with the schools. In the report just mentioned, -of 1877, about forty such schools—male academies—are enumerated in -Tennessee, yet it was a rare thing for one of their pupils to go to -college. - -[Illustration] - -In general the preparation for college was done by the colleges -themselves. Practically all established preparatory departments; in many -cases the college professors taught these departments, and frequently -they contained more students than the college classes proper. As -endowments had been swept away and state appropriations hardly begun, the -faculty had to be supported from the fees alone. In 1877 East Tennessee -University, now the University of Tennessee at Knoxville, Tenn., is -credited with 195 preparatory students and 90 college students; the -University of Mississippi with 257 preparatory and 174 college students; -South Carolina College with 95 preparatory and 89 college students. Where -some other institutions give no reports of preparatory students, we are -inclined to believe it was because these had been fully incorporated -with college students, under a most injudicious system of grouping, -rather than that they were altogether lacking. From that system with all -its faults we have not yet recovered. The best Southern colleges and -universities have tried to eliminate this preparatory work, and where -this could not be done, they have established independent academies, -dissociated from all connection with the college proper. But quite a -large number have not been able to take this step and still maintain the -confused practice of reconstruction days. - -[Illustration] - -Worse than the evils above enumerated was the creation of a number of -chartered colleges and universities that were really nothing more than -high schools, and in many cases did not furnish as good an education as -an honest academy. Such institutions of course never sent students to -college, but rewarded with baccalaureate and master degrees attainments -insufficient to grace a freshman. Instead of being friends and fosterers -of education, these institutions have often been its worst foes. They -have served to transform ignorance into conceit, and make impossible true -progress on a substantial basis. Boom towns have started universities as -an advertisement; local high schools are called colleges in order to -gratify local pride, and college degrees have become a farce. Thus we -have in every Southern State colleges whose libraries contain less than -a hundred volumes, whose scientific apparatus could be hauled away in a -cart and cost less than $100, and whose endowment is nothing. - -[Illustration] - -When Vanderbilt University opened its doors in 1875 it had no intention -of receiving preparatory students; indeed, its first plan was to receive -only such students as had completed half of their college course. Hence, -preparation was made for two college classes and two university classes. -But with the coming of the first class the ideals of the faculty were -rudely shattered. A crowd of earnest but untrained students poured -into the college halls. A large number of the courses that had been -provided was found to be unsuitable and uncalled for, while there was an -imperative demand for elementary classes in English, mathematics, Latin -and Greek. In his report on the first year’s work Chancellor Garland -stated that if the University had stood firmly by its rules it would -have rejected fully two-thirds of those who had presented themselves for -matriculation: “few had any power of fixed and prolonged attention or -any practical knowledge of the modes of successful study.” In this way, -then, Vanderbilt University found itself compelled to begin preparatory -classes. These were continued for twelve years under protest. They were -not advertised, no effort was made to secure students for them, but there -were always enough candidates to make them a necessity. This continued -until 1887 when they were finally abolished and the task of preparing -students for the freshman class was boldly thrown upon the schools of -Tennessee and the South. The immediate result of this step was alarming. -Many prospective students saw it was needless to apply for admission, and -of those that did apply a large per cent had to be rejected. The number -of literary students fell to 112 in 1889-90; only 29 students finished -the year in freshman English, and only 16 had been enrolled during the -whole year in freshman Greek. But slowly the situation began to improve; -schools arose to do the work demanded by the University and the number of -students surpassed even the totals of former years. Gradually, too, it -was seen that the University had not merely furthered its own interests, -but had been the means of building up a whole system of training schools, -thereby directly influencing for good the educational development of -Tennessee and setting an example to the whole South. The results of this -movement are worthy of special consideration. - -[Illustration] - -Perhaps the University would not have dared to make the experiment it did -if it had not felt sure of at least one strong school on which entire -reliance could be placed from the very beginning. This was the Webb -School, which had then been in operation seventeen years and which had -recently been moved from Culleoka to Bell Buckle, Tenn. Shortly before -Vanderbilt University was founded Mr. W. R. Webb came to Tennessee from -North Carolina to engage in school work. Educated at Bingham School and -the University of North Carolina, he had become familiar with the best -methods of school work and realized the great need of such work in the -South at that time. The establishment of a university in close reach of -his school gave him an objective point for his labors, and his students -were very promptly turned in that direction. So successful was the -Culleoka school, from the very beginning, that in a few years Mr. John -Webb, a younger brother, was brought in as partner. It would be hard -to overstate the value of the work of these two men for Tennessee and -the South. For thirty-five years they have labored, and have put their -stamp for good on at least 2,500 Southern boys. Their patronage has come -from every Southern State and the size of their school has been limited -only by the number they were willing to receive. Their old students -are scattered over all the world. A year ago when this writer was in -Constantinople without an acquaintance, as he supposed, within a thousand -miles, he was surprised to receive a call from the resident physician -of Robert College, who was an old Webb boy, delighted at the chance of -seeing some one he had known while at school. The Webb School has always -been considered unique. Its buildings are plain and its furnishings are -of the simplest kind. It has no scientific apparatus, for it is strictly -a classical school. But it has a good library, the doors of which stand -open winter and summer, day and night, and the books are used. Life is -keyed to a high tone in the schoolroom, and the boys feel it. Form counts -for little—perhaps too little—but substance counts for much. Professional -students of pedagogy, visiting the school, go away surprised—and grieved, -for they do not find much respect shown their pet theories. The whole -school is wrapped up in the personality of the two men who have made it. -Some of the Tennessee training schools could not have come into being or -could not now continue without the support of Vanderbilt University, but -the Webb School would have been a success under any circumstances. When -the surroundings at Culleoka did not seem to be suited at one time to the -success of school work, Messrs. Webb quietly informed the citizens that -they would move the school, and they did. The success of the Webb School, -as well as the demands of Vanderbilt University, have made it easy for -other schools to come into being. - -[Illustration] - -The Mooney School deserves mention next on our list. In 1886 Messrs. -S. V. Wall and W. D. Mooney took charge of the school at Culleoka. -After three years they removed to Franklin, Tenn., where they built up -the well-known Battleground Academy. About eight years ago Mr. Wall -removed to Honey Grove, Texas, where he still has a large school. Mr. -Mooney continued the work at Franklin. In 1902 his school building was -destroyed by fire, and he was induced to move to Murfreesboro, where -handsome grounds and buildings had been provided for his use at an -expense of about $30,000. The Mooney School has furnished many students -to Vanderbilt University and they have frequently carried off the honors -of the University for high scholarship. The Wallace University School was -opened in Nashville, in 1886. The principal, Mr. C. B. Wallace, impressed -himself so strongly on his pupils and patrons that a building was soon -erected for his use in order to fix his school at Nashville. The Wallace -School has sent more pupils to Vanderbilt University within the past -ten years than any other school except Webb’s, and in proportion to its -enrollment it is far ahead of any in University attendance. Fourteen of -its graduates of June, 1904, entered Vanderbilt a few months later. - -But it is necessary that our sketch proceed more rapidly. The popularity -of the training school idea began to be manifest in many quarters. In -McKenzie there had been established an institution known as McTyeire -College—a college doing the work for an academy. Later this was -transformed into McTyeire Institute, and Joshua H. Harrison, a Vanderbilt -graduate, was put in charge. At present this school has for its principal -James A. Robins and is growing in strength and influence every year. -In 1892 the Louisville Methodist Conference established the Vanderbilt -Training School at Elkton, Ky. This action was taken against the efforts -of many who wanted a college, and is another proof of the recognition of -sound educational values. - -Quite a large number of other schools can be enumerated that owe their -origin more or less directly to the policy of Vanderbilt University. -Among these are the Branham and Hughes School, Spring Hill, Tenn.; the -Peoples School, Franklin, Tenn.; the Morgan School, Fayetteville, Tenn.; -the Smyrna Fitting School, Smyrna, Tenn.; Pryor Institute, Jasper, Tenn.; -Union City Training School, Union City, Tenn.; Dresden Training School, -Dresden, Tenn.; McFerrin School, Martin, Tenn.; Howard Institute, Mt. -Pleasant, Tenn.; Jonesboro Training School, Jonesboro, Ark.; Fordyce -Training School, Fordyce, Ark.; Bridgeport Training School, Bridgeport, -Ala.; Luna Training School, Franklin, Ky.; Smith Grove Academy, Smith -Grove, Ky.; Weatherford Training School, Weatherford, Texas; Hawkins -School, Gallatin, Tenn.; Fitzgerald School, Trenton, Tenn.; Cornersville -Training School, Cornersville, Tenn.; Training School, Anniston, Ala.; -Bowen School, Nashville, Tenn.; Training School, Thomasville, Ala.; -Culleoka Academy, Culleoka, Tenn. Not all of these schools have been -equally successful; some of them, perhaps, have ceased to live, but -the training school idea is stronger to-day than ever before. In some -communities this kind of work finds little support or encouragement. -Consequently, no training school can live or succeed there. Honesty and -thoroughness are the qualities that have marked Vanderbilt training -schools, and some people wish neither of these in educational work. -Educational shams and fake universities and colleges still command the -admiration and patronage of many. - -Special attention should be called to the Branham and Hughes School -at Spring Hill, Tenn. Though one of the youngest, this is now the -largest and one of the most flourishing of the Tennessee training -schools. Recently $15,000 has been spent for improvements of property. -The enrollment for the present year is 316, and nine teachers are -employed. The Peoples School at Franklin, Tenn., and the Morgan School -at Fayetteville, Tenn., are also meeting with great success. Both of -these have strong local support, having been provided with splendid new -buildings, with dormitories and gymnasium; both have strong men at their -head and more than 200 students apiece. - -The result of this movement is that Vanderbilt University now receives -a majority of its incoming class from the best schools in the South. -In the fall of 1903 seventy-five students entered the University from -schools more or less directly affiliated with Vanderbilt and imbued -with Vanderbilt ideals. In September, 1904, four schools furnished the -University fifty students. Within the past ten years ten schools have -furnished the freshman class with more than five hundred students—that -is, more than fifty every year. - -Greater still is the result that has been accomplished for the general -cause of education. While the Webb School has furnished the University -about one hundred students in ten years, it has in that same time -assisted in educating seven or eight hundred. Many of these did not -finish their course at school, some finished and attended other -universities, more finished and went to work. But on all the influence -of those years of earnest, thorough school work will be an incalculable -benefit. Similar is the record of all the other schools. - -Still another outgrowth of this movement has been that training schools, -owing no allegiance to any particular university, have sprung up in many -points and are contributing largely to the intellectual development of -our people. Excellent schools of this character may now be found in -Memphis, Chattanooga, Atlanta, Birmingham, Montgomery, Mobile, and many -small places. - -Stimulated by Vanderbilt’s example, the Association of Colleges -and Preparatory Schools of the Southern States has been formed, -an organization that is devoting itself to the upbuilding of good -preparatory schools, whether public or private, and the enforcement of a -respectable standard of admission to college. - -Finally, we may ask the question whether this work will be permanent. -Will not these schools disappear before the advance of the public high -school? Perhaps so, to some extent, but never entirely. The public high -schools have made great progress in Mississippi and Texas, stimulated by -the demands of the state universities, but elsewhere in the South their -progress is still slow. A recent article by Commissioner Harris gave a -most cheering account of the growth of public high schools in the South. -In that he records one hundred public high schools for Tennessee, with -more than 5,000 students. But the records of the Commissioner himself -will show that not as many students go to college from all this number as -from half a dozen Vanderbilt training schools. In fact, one is forced -to doubt the accuracy of many returns. For example, twenty-five of these -hundred schools report a four year high school course; but only three -years are reported for the high schools at Nashville, Knoxville, Jackson, -Murfreesboro, and Columbia. Only Chattanooga and Memphis, of the larger -cities, claim to have a four year course. The twenty-three other superior -high schools are in many of the most unexpected localities. White’s Store -reports a four year course, with one teacher and twenty-five pupils; -Piney Flats, a four year course, with one teacher and twenty-one pupils; -Dancyville, with one woman teacher and twenty-two pupils; Chuckey City, -with one woman teacher and six pupils. From statistics such as these it -is dangerous to make hasty generalizations. - -Let the public high school come as rapidly as possible. Vanderbilt -University will be its friend and fosterer, as it has been in the city of -Nashville. But in any event it will ever remain true that a great work -for education has been accomplished in its relation to private secondary -schools. It was truly said by President H. N. Snyder, of Wofford College, -some years ago; “If ever Vanderbilt University has had a mission, and has -fulfilled it greatly and even gloriously, it is in the way it has helped -to form what we understand as training or fitting schools.” - -[Illustration] - - - - - THE FOREIGN WIFE. - - By Claude M. Girardeau. - - - CHAPTER I. - -It was the last of January, 1815. The harbor of the city of Charleston -was enveloped in a cold gray fog, that rose above the ramparts of the sea -wall and advanced its phantom cohorts upon the houses facing the Battery, -capturing their outposts one by one, gradually submerging gable-end -and piazza, surmounting tiled roof and overtopping chimney, until at -nightfall the city, like a second Germe Ishausen, although resting upon -the surface of one ocean, was buried in the impalpable profundity of -another. - -Invisible to the eye, even at the distance of a few yards, the street -lamps were mere ineffectual points of light in the dense and watery -atmosphere. - -The solid wooden shutters of the Battery houses were tightly battened so -that they presented an impenetrable front to the fog, which nevertheless -insinuated itself beneath threshold and window-sill and made its ghostly -presence felt upon the very hearths where fires of pitch-pine and -seasoned ash were lighted to dispel the dampness. - -At the conjunction of the South and the East Battery, the mansion of -Governor Grantham occupied the right angle of the corner, its stone -steps encroaching upon the narrow sidewalk. Overhanging them, at the -second story, the iron balcony bore upon the middle panel of its rail the -entwined “G. G.” of the eldest son of the house of Grantham from time -immemorial. - -A visitor admitted beyond the front door would have found himself in -a dark and somewhat cramped hall, or entry, from the center of which -mounted a flight of carefully waxed stairs, leading to an upper hall of -dimensions more in keeping with the outward aspect of the building. -Turning to the right and guiding one’s steps warily over its icy surface, -converted into a mirror by the daily brush of the slave, one would have -been ushered into the drawing room, an apartment high of ceiling, scant -of furniture, also slippery of floor, extending perhaps fifty feet along -the west side of the mansion. On this account it was easily convertible -into a ball room. - -Although it was half an hour since the conclusion of the last meal of -the day, this room was unoccupied—at least at first glance. Then in -its extreme end appeared a pleasing tableau in the blazing firelight—a -tableau that in the fifty feet of polished perspective might have been -mistaken for an oil-painting by a master-hand for mural decoration. - -A divan of turquoise-blue damask had been rolled up to the chimney-piece -and upon the soft white fur of an immense cloak thrown over one end of -it, reclined a woman. Her white draperies were scarcely distinguishable -against the fur, in which she sank luxuriously. Closer inspection would -have remarked the rise and fall of her bosom but partially concealed—one -might say almost entirely revealed—by the transparent material of -her bodice; for she was attired _a la Grecque_, in an Indian muslin -embroidered in silver lama, whose diaphanous skirt clung to her lower -limbs as the wet sheet clings to the sculptor’s model. - -The short puffed sleeves of her Josephine waist left her beautiful arms -entirely naked save for the cameo medallion in white and rose-color, -set in thin gold, at her wrists. Her figure so openly displayed was -of sufficient elegance to excuse the frankness, but beautiful as were -its proportions, attentive admiration would have been first bestowed -upon her face, oval, ivory-tinted, under a superb quantity of pale -red hair confined by a classic fillet of gold with a pendant of pearl -upon her white forehead. Her elongated eyes, half closed in reverie, -were apparently dark grey, with heavy lids whose lashes cast crescented -shadows upon her cheeks. - -Her full, red lips were slightly open, disclosing the even edges of -milkwhite teeth, giving a luxurious, sensuous and somewhat cruel -expression to her vivid countenance. Her languid head leaned upon one -fair hand, whose long fingers were embedded in the thick mass of hair, -the elbow supported by the curved shoulder of the divan. The other hand, -dazzling with jewels, held in her lap an ivory-handled fan of flamingo -feathers, rose-colored like her cameos and the knot of velvet ribbon at -the depression between the soft elevations of her bosom. - -Occasionally she surveyed the foot resting upon the blue damasked -hassock; it was slim and arched, encased in a heelless white satin -slip-shoe which barely covered the toes and was strapped about the ankle -and visibly halfway up the leg by narrow white ribbons. The flesh-colored -stockings met skin-tight silk under-garments of the same hue, conveying -the impression of a body clad in a single dress, according to the fashion -of the day for those whose perfection of figure permitted or excused it. - -When the contemplation of the foot lost interest, the young woman—for she -was hardly more than twenty-three—would draw from its hiding-place behind -the rose-colored velvet loveknot a medallion set in brilliants attached -to a slender gold chain of exquisite workmanship, whose fine thread fell -upon her delicate shoulders from the necklace of spinel rubies which -embraced her swan’s throat like linked pomegranate seeds or tiny drops of -transparent blood. - -An East Indian screen with numerous painted silk panels framed in ebony, -stood in fantastic zigzags behind the divan, and the thick, blue-flowered -damask curtains of the shuttered casements had been carefully drawn; -nevertheless she shivered now and then and pulled up about her arms her -yellow scarf of Canton crepe heavy with silk embroidery and fringe. - -Wax candelabra in silver-gilt were reflected from the paneled mirrors and -in the shining floor of polished rosewood, pervading the apartment with a -light at once soft and lustrous. - -Just above the mantelpiece, dominating the entire _mise en scène_, hung -an oil painting, a portrait by Copley of the master and mistress of the -mansion. The lady in becoming a Grantham could not forget that she had -been a Vizard, and therefore closely related to the last of the Royal -Governors of the Province. - -The two figures were represented seated at a table engaged in a game of -chess, the position of the pieces indicating a decided “check” on the -part of the lady, whose haughty countenance appeared somewhat flushed -with anticipated victory. - -The motive of the composition had evidently been at her suggestion, for -her husband’s face expressed polite resignation either to superiority of -skill or the triumph of accidental good fortune, giving him a position of -secondary importance more or less unmerited. - -His daughter-in-law half asleep before the fire, glanced up at the -two figures for the hundredth time and yawned as one—even a pretty -woman—yawns in the freedom of solitude: that is to say, open-mouthed. - -The tap, tap of a cane came across the desert of waxed rosewood. - -“My dear Nadège, I sympathize most cordially with you,” said a voice at -the young woman’s elbow. - -Nadège turned her ruddy head languidly and opened her sleepy grey eyes -upon the fantastic figure before them. - -“Why do you sympathize with me, my dear cousin?” she inquired. Her -English was perfect, with, perhaps, a slight foreign precision rather -than accent. - -The dear cousin sat down upon the divan beside her. She was an ancient -dame whose much wrinkled face, surmounted by the mingled purple and -yellow dyes of an extraordinary turban, was still alive with a pair of -malicious, sparkling black eyes. She grasped a tall cane at arm’s length -in her skinny left hand, confronted the yawning beauty sharply, pressing -a pointed forefinger of her equally skinny right claw upon the middle of -the loveknot. - -“You were stretching your mouth in the very face of Madam and the -Governor. I saw you. It was done openly, without so much as the -interposition of fan or finger. How often have I done it myself!” She -chuckled at the thought. “You are bitterly regretting that you ever left -St. Petersburg to bury yourself alive in this provincial capital of a -republican colony. Is it not so, _ma chère_?” - -“Perhaps you are right,” admitted the accused, “but it is only because -Geoffrey is away. I declare, you people are so amusing.” - -“Amusing? Then why do you yawn at us?” - -“Ah! If I were only in Paris! How I hate the English.” - -“Sh!... Reflect! Madam Grantham is English” (with an upward glance of -deviltry), “the Governor, my cousin, is English, I am English, Geoffrey -is English, you are—” - -“No, no! I am not. Not in the very least bone of me. That is why I find -you so amusing. You cherish English blood, you boast loudly of your -English connections, you cultivate English manners—which God knows thrive -without much cultivation—! You emblazon your English coats of arms with -their bastard French mottoes, on your carriage doors, your silver plate, -your slaves—” - -“One would think we branded them, to hear you,” interpolated the old -lady, with amusement, “but go on—go on. Let us have the full extent of -the indictment.” - -“And where is Geoffrey now?” continued Geoffrey’s wife; “and where were -the Granthams in 1719, in 1749, in 1775? Why, fighting the English for -dear life.” - -“That is more English than anything else,” retorted her cousin-in-law. -“What would you have Geoffrey do? Stay at home?” - -“By no means. I encouraged him to go. But then I thought he would take me -with him since he was so absolute of victory.” - -“Take you with him? On board a privateer?” - -“There were other modes of transportation.” - -“My dear child! He could not be willing to have you exposed to danger.” - -“Ah!—so he said.” - -“Surely you do not blame him for that? Why do you not amuse yourself in -his absence?” - -“With whom, pray?” - -“If the gallants of the city could but hear you!” - -“Perhaps I would endeavor to find amusement in any other place than this. -Truly I am dazed with ennui.” - -“I know, I know! I have not lived elsewhere myself for nothing. These -ridiculous provincials forget that the Nevsky Prospekt and the Boulevards -were ancient ways when King and Queen streets were Indian trails and the -Battery a sandbank.” - -She gazed into the glowing fire and fell into a retrospection; the path -of memory led from the past to the present, so she said after a time: - -“I heard something to-day that may interest you.” - -“I thought there was scandal in the wag of your turban, and gossip in the -tap of your cane.” - -“Oh, you did? Well, you are an impudent baggage, madam. This is neither -the one nor the other, yet, inasmuch as recounted to an indiscreet ear it -might cause both, I think I should not repeat it.” - -“I assure you, cousin, you may rely upon my discretion. Since Leonora’s -absence there is no one but yourself to talk to.” - -“Thank you, madam, for the implication,” retorted the old lady, rising -and executing an extraordinary courtesy with her most witchlike -expression, then sitting down again: “The Governor, my cousin, is of your -mind. Poor man, he confides in me, and I would not betray his confidence. -But you are a foreigner—forgive the phrase, as it only means that you -will understand without being prejudiced—and I run no risk in telling -you what he said to me. It was more to ease his mind than to obtain -advice; for which I was properly grateful, as I had only sympathy and not -counsel in the simples of my pharmacy.” - -While she discoursed in this illustrative strain the listener said to -herself: - -“Lord, will she never come to the point? What a garrulous old parroquet.” - -Then aloud: - -“Your introduction is perfumed with interest. I am more curious to hear -than ever. What has happened, or is going to happen, that excites your -sympathy, or would justify advice? (I will let her see that I can turn an -English period as glibly as herself!)” - -“Well, then, to be brief, Mistress Geoffrey, Captain Grantham is coming -home. Hence the arrival, post-haste, of the Governor at a time that -affairs of state should have detained him in the capital.” - -“_Captain_ Grantham? Who is he?” - -“A well-known officer in the French army. A personal friend of Prince -Eugène de Beauharnais.” - -“Ah, yes; I saw him once in Paris. A very young man at that time. But -handsome, gallant and dashing. Altogether the _Frenchman_.” - -“Geoffrey should hear you,” replied the old lady dryly. The other laughed: - -“Seeing that Geoffrey is an officer in the American navy I do not think -he would have any fault to find with my eulogy of French gallantry. I am -rejoiced to hear that this flower of chivalry is coming home. Now that -the Bourbons are in power again I suppose he finds his occupation gone.” - -But Miss Anne was looking into the fire, the ghost of a smile puckering -her bloodless lips disagreeably. - -“You might be rejoiced to hear it in Paris or Petersburg, but not in this -place; no, not in this place.” - -“You are right, I daresay. In Charleston I have discovered that a -brother-in-law is a blood relation, not a flimsy connection by marriage. -Flirtation with one is therefore robbed of all its venom—of all its -fascination, also. Still, as I remember Captain Grantham—” - -“This is not the one you remember.” - -“You said Geoffrey’s brother?” - -“_Sans doute_! But Reginald’s brother also.” - -“Reginald’s brother? You speak in riddles; you have just said it was -Reginald’s self. Is he not Captain Grantham?” - -“No; I should have said his _alter ego_. Reginald is now _Colonel_ of -artillery.” - -“Another Grantham!” - -“Truly; and about the same age.” - -“Oh, a twin.” - -“By no means. You saw one brother in Paris, but I do not think you saw -the other. Yet, very likely you did; they are, I am told, wonderfully -alike. They were at the Ecole Militaire together. The relationship is -unmistakable except to those who will not see.” - -The old gossip laughed aloud, enjoying the other’s mystification. - -“What singularity!” exclaimed Nadège. “Pray go on. I am no longer bored. -I can even regard this portrait without a yawn. Who is this Captain -Grantham? And why should I not know him here or see him in Paris? You -tell me he is famous and the companion of princes.” - -“He has a name of his own. It is descriptive and picturesque, besides -being symbolic.” - -“Ah? Pray pronounce it.” - -“Brugnon.” - -“What then? Where is the symbolism?” - -“Well, then, this Monsieur Brugnon is like his brothers Reginald, -Garrick, and Geoffrey in all respects save one; unfortunately, the most -important one of all.” - -“What is it? Why have I been kept in ignorance of this, since it is -evidently a family affair? What is this difference of such vital -importance?” - -“His color.” - -Mistress Geoffrey sank back into her furry nest, her expression of lively -curiosity and irritation instantly effaced by one of bland indifference. - -“I see. Why does he not remain in Europe? He is a fool to come here.” - -“So he is,—but he does not know it. He wrote to his father, the -Governor, your father-in-law and my cousin, to say that since the -abdication of the Emperor and the enforced residence of Prince Eugène -in Vienna, he revolts from the service of a _lackey at court_ after the -activity of the battlefield, and now desires to _see his own people_ once -more and his home—the home of his childhood, the plantation, the other -_Court_ hardly less celebrated than—” - -“Yes, yes, I know,” exclaimed Nadège hastily, “named for the English -estate of the Granthams near Twickenham, Middlesex, which contains -‘fourteen hundred acres of land, and gardens, fishponds, hedges, terraces -and fountains unsurpassed by anything in the South.’ My memory, you see, -is excellent.” - -“You have been reading the family annals of late?” - -“Oh, no; it was not necessary! Tell me, cousin, is this _petite histoire_ -generally known?” - -“Yes: the Governor was much censured for sending the boy to France, and -his rapid promotion has been a sore on the foot of those who will tread -him in the very mire when he comes to see _his own people_, poor devil.” - -“Why does the Governor permit his return?” - -“He cannot help it. Brugnon wrote that he would take ship at once.” - -“Who is his mother?” was the next question. - -“Ah, who knows?” And Miss Ann peaked up her sharp shoulders under their -gay flowered silk covering and wagged her oriental headgear until the -filigree silver ornaments in the lobes of her large ears jingled audibly. - -“I think I could guess,” she added, with a wizened smile at her -companion, “but what difference? Society here, my dear Nadège, as you -have already discovered, is in the hands of the men. We women are the -vases on the mantelpiece.” She grinned in Mistress Geoffrey’s face: “Some -of us are particularly decorative. Mistress Grantham, for example.” - -The younger woman eyed meditatively the sharp yellow face under the -resplendent turban. - -“One has a good view from the mantelpiece,” she began, when a young man -entered the room and advanced to the fireplace. - - [_To be continued._] - - - - - WHEN NELLIE SMILES. - - By D’Arcy Moore. - - - When Nellie smiles across at me, - She’s well worth coming miles to see. - Deep dented dimples find a place, - Best suited for their added grace, - The one on either side her face, - Dan Cupid capers high in glee - When Nellie smiles. - - When Nellie smiles, dear girl, at me, - Her blue eyes twinkle roguishly; - She bows her dainty head the whiles - (She’s mistress, past, of woman’s wiles) - And thus the willing wretch beguiles. - Ah! surely there is witchery - When Nellie smiles. - - L’Envoi: - - If you would keep your peace of mind, - So often wrecked by woman-kind, - Be warned in time. While yet you may— - Cover your eyes and run away - When Nellie smiles. - - - - - SERIOUS PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE TO-DAY - - By Charles Baskerville, Ph.D., - Professor of Chemistry, the College of the City of New York. - - -Dr. Charles Baskerville, whom we present this month to our readers, -belongs to the younger generation of Southern men who are giving -evidence of their capacity for leadership in fields other than political -and forensic. Born in Mississippi in 1870, he is now, at the age of -thirty-five, head of the Department of Chemistry in the College of the -City of New York. After his graduation at the University of Virginia, -he spent some time studying in Germany, and was called upon his return -to the University of North Carolina, where he occupied the chair of -chemistry. He is the author of a text-book on chemistry, and has written -numerous articles on scientific, educational and technological subjects. -He has distinguished himself in the field of original research and -experiment, and belongs of right to the select band of scientific men who -in these latter days, are so eagerly bringing to the light the laws that -govern phenomena in the wonderful world of Nature. - -[Illustration] - -The world to the human interpreter appears as a paradox of complexes. -Scientific progress, during late years, has not been along the lines of -the least resistance. One who has to do with the problems of nature is -fascinated by the difficulties. Lord Rayleigh attached this motto to his -recently issued, but already famous, “Collected Papers:” - - “The works of the Lord are great - Sought out of all them that have pleasure therein.” - -To be sure, the gratification of overcoming obstacles is often the only -compensation. - -Science has a wide range in the size and nature of the things with which -it deals. With the microscope, it enlarges for vision the unseen world of -bacterial life; with the telescope it draws the celestial bodies near and -interrogates them with the spectroscope; it drags the lifeless element -from the inanimate world, curiously plays with it and then puts it to -man’s use, while seeking his origin and forcing him ever to show cause -for his existence and right to question. - -Much of the very recent work in physical science has distinct leanings -towards metaphysics. It is scarcely to be wondered at, when the -experimental data obtained appear to question tenets which devotees -have become accustomed to regard as immutable. Facts are stubborn, -however. When they cause the giving away of the least portion of the -boundaries of our cherished systems, the imagination is unchained. The -discovery and development of our knowledge of the wonderful phenomena -of radio-activity, about which much that is true and more that is false -have appeared in reputable journals of a not remote date, ensample the -groping of our restlessness. These marvels, according to those who have -worked with them most and whose opinions deserve the first consideration, -spontaneously and continuously give out energy appreciable to the senses. - -Where does this energy come from? Where does it go? One mudsill of -science is the law of the conservation of energy. This division of -science has a host of investigators busy with the problem of sustaining -this fundamental. The harvest, which is not all grain but contains some -tares, indicates that substances, which we have been pleased to regard -as elemental constituents of nature, undergo voluntary alterations. Some -appear to be breaking down into simpler matter, while others are building -up. This virtually carries us back to the days of the alchemist. - -It is a long story, which may not be related here, the deep-seated belief -of most chemists in the unity, hence transmutation, of the elements. It -is a far cry to its accomplishment, however. We need not go back to the -time of the black-art for other examples of efforts to transform one -element into another. Victor Meyer sought to build up thallium shortly -after Crookes found it. Winkler dissipated Fittica’s transformation of -phosphorus to arsenic. So chemists will be busy asking questions of -Ramsay’s formation of a body like lead, through the agency of penetrating -rays of radium. - -Another foundation stone of science is the law of the conservation -of matter. J. J. Thompson, from experimental work, explains certain -observations by the existence of substances called electrons, a thousand -times smaller than hydrogen, which we have regarded the lightest chemical -element. The electrons appear to carry an electric charge. One farther -step is then taken by the Cambridge professor, who says these corpuscles -are electricity. They are attenuated matter. Electricity is a form of -energy. We need no law for the conservation of the matter. Ostwald has -taught that when one struck his shin on a chair in the dark, it was not -the solid wood, but the force involved which produced the sensation. One -would not have been conscious of the existence of the obstacle, but for -the energy. Matter is energy. - -Here one is on the boundary lines of experimental science and dealing -with a metaphysical problem. It must not be forgotten, however, that two -hundred years ago any suggestion of the Röntgen rays could well have been -placed in a similar category. - -Whether the explanations be accepted or not, it may be noted that -Lodge has already illustrated, by beautiful lecture experiments, the -possibility of a practical utilization of the facts of some of the -observations. Fog is easily dissipated through the agency of electricity. -The application of the principle on a gigantic scale, to a city like -London, may yet be realized. - -There are in the world, as is well known, numerous organisms belonging -to the vegetable kingdom that do not resemble at all any of those things -we are accustomed to look upon as plants. These bacteria are extremely -small. They are from .00002 to .00004 inch in diameter. They are studied, -not by ordinary vision, but by means of microscopes and by microscopes -of only the very best kinds. They are, also, studied by their effects. -They propagate very rapidly. Starting with one organism they may grow, -within twenty-four hours, to 281,470,000,000 individuals. This rapidity -of growth does not actually take place in nature; it is checked through -natural conditions, or through excretions of the organism inhibiting such -propagation. - -We hear a great deal as to the production of virulent diseases through -the agency of bacteria; but, while there are evil bacteria, there are, -also, bacteria that are good. In short, we may understand, that all -good bacteria are not dead bacteria. These bacteria exist in very large -numbers in the soil. The upper portion of rich garden soil may contain, -on an average, from one to five millions per cubic centimetre. This -number may be very much greater, depending upon the amount of decomposed -matter that is present and the favorable conditions for their propagation. - -We are accustomed to think of bacteria as living only on the richest food -and being the cause solely of putrefaction. This is not true. There are -bacteria that live on the bare rocks and get their sustenance from those -rocks and the surrounding air. Under these conditions they actually store -up food material. They are really miracle workers. They render the soil -fertile and the farmer is largely dependent upon them for the growth of -his crops. They reduce mineral substance to the powdered form, assist in -storing up organic matter for the soil and thus render it suitable for -the growth of higher plants. - -Under the influence of sunlight the green portions of plants, by -absorbing carbon dioxide from the air and water from the soil, produce -starch, which is one of the important foods for animals. This is not -the work of bacteria, yet some of these organisms are capable of -accomplishing similar work in the dark. It has been suggested that they -derive their energy directly from the oxidizing processes that they set -up. This is one of the problems of the soil bacteriologist. - -Many micro-organisms act upon nitrogenous matters and destroy them, in -that the substances are rendered less available for higher plants. These -are denitrifying agents. There is another class of these micro-organisms, -however, that takes nitrogenous food, which is only a little or not at -all utilized by higher vegetables, and makes it available plant food. -These micro-organisms thus contribute to the fertility of the soil. They -oxidize ammonium compounds, from whatever sources they may be had, and -form nitrites first and then nitrates. The nitrates are used by common -plants. The nitrifying bacteria are composed of two groups of active -agents: one group serves to make the first change, namely from ammonium -compounds to nitrites; and the other, to change the nitrites to nitrates. -The conditions most favorable for their activity are just the opposite -for most other micro-organisms. In a soil having much organic matter -already decomposed, these bacteria may be practically inactive until -the decomposition has passed certain stages. During this transition, -the soil is barely suited for crops. Nitrification requires the oxygen -of the air; denitrification can go on in a compact soil with the least -portion of the atmosphere. So really the soil is cultivated largely to -favor the growth and propagation of the nitrifying bacteria. The result -of experimentation has shown that this may be facilitated in some cases -by denitrification first, and in other cases by stirring the soil for -the penetration of the air, and again by applying lime to the soil to -overcome the acidity. Professor Burrill recently said, “Some day farmers -will come to understand that specialists working in the laboratory, and -for years gazing through microscopes, are gaining knowledge for them.” - -While many bacteria do not necessarily render food available for plants, -they are most valuable in putting useless matters out of the way. One of -the absolutely essential chemical elements for the growth of plants is -nitrogen. It is most expensive. It is present in the greatest unavailable -abundance, constituting three-fourths by weight of our entire atmosphere, -and it is, also, the one element most likely to be deficient in the soil. -It constitutes an essential constituent of albumenoid material. Under the -influence of the denitrifying bacteria, it is converted into ammonium -compounds, which are converted then through the nitrifying agents into -nitrates. The nitrates are extremely soluble in water; consequently, -there is no tendency towards the accumulation of the valuable food -matter in the soil, as the same is leached out. The growing green plant -is surrounded by the food that it wants but, as with the Ancient Mariner, -there is not a drop to drink. Green vegetation cannot, or only to a -limited extent can, absorb and utilize directly the free nitrogen of the -air. - -As a result of a long series of experiments, it has been learned that -there grow excrescences, somewhat similar to galls, on the roots of -certain plants. These natural structures have a character peculiar to the -species of plants on which they occur. In a manner not understood, these -tubercles, inhabited by bacteria, are capable of securing sufficient -nitrogen from the air for their own growth, when the soil is practically -able to furnish none. Other plants, next door, without these nodules, -will die of starvation. - -The number of bacteria in these nodules is very great but, although -countless, they are insignificant compared with those in the soil -outside. Those within the nodules, however, are specifically different -from those without, perform different functions, and appear to be -characteristic of the particular plant in which they exist. The -leguminous plants, as peas, beans, clover, have these peculiar nodules. -Other plants, however, like maize, cotton, wheat, are devoid of these -assistants. - -It has been known for a long time that the fertility of the soil could -be augmented by rotating the crops and thus adding nitrogen to the soil -by means of these leguminous plants. One of the problems engaging the -attention of scientific agriculturists at present is to learn whether or -not these leguminous organisms may be made to form tubercles on other -plants, as for example corn or wheat. The importance of the successful -issue of such experimentation requires no emphasis. While successful -results have not yet been reported, something has been learned: namely, -the fruit of corn may be very much modified in its chemical composition -by breeding. Grain very much richer in nitrogenous matter has been grown -by changes in the breeding. Such grain is a better food. - -This is indeed a day of almost excessive specialization in science: Great -things have been accomplished by the intense method. Some have thought, -and spoken their thoughts, that such tended to carry men of science away -from the contemplation of a unit or the system as a whole. Not a few -have argued, perhaps with reason, that the great generalizations, as for -example Darwin’s theory of evolution, were no longer to be hoped for. It -is impossible for any single brain to follow the details of the varied -branches of science. It is rare that one man pretends to know the detail -of that division of science to which he gives attention. It is equally -true, however, that many systematic minds are gathering, collating and -publishing in readable form accurate summaries of details in the several -branches. Men of broader vision are gathering these authentic digests and -offering concepts, which encompass the phenomena of the Universe. - -Such have been hinted at as the efforts of some to do away with what we -have been pleased to term axiomatic truths. Whether this be desirable, -is really of no moment. The facts point to the present movement of -efforts to simplify matters. The most beautiful things after all are the -simplest. This idea, of course, should not convey the impression of being -boldly plain. - - - - - “THE MESSAGE OF THE VIOLET.” - - By G. D. G. - - -Down the long corridor swept the theater-goers, men in the sober black -and white of evening clothes, women in the brightest of theater gowns. -Debutantes paused to chat with college men as they found their way to -boxes and orchestra chairs; bachelors stopped to talk of the affairs of -the day before taking their places in the front rows. The old playhouse -was fast filling, for it was “The Princess of Tyrolia” that night. - -With the first notes of the orchestra a young man hurried down the aisle -and dropped into a seat far back in the shadow of the balcony. His eyes -swept hastily over the audience and then became fixed on a box near the -stage. - -“I knew she would be here,” he murmured softly; “she could never keep -away from this music.” - -It was a pretty picture he found to gaze upon and it was little wonder -that he looked but seldom at the stage. More attractive even than the -rows of gorgeously dressed girls in the chorus was that box near the -stage. Seated toward the front was a young girl, just rounding into the -beauty of the woman—while retaining all the freshness of girlhood. Behind -her laughed and chatted a few companions of her own age, but she kept her -eyes fixed upon the stage and seemed to fairly revel in the beauty of the -ringing chorus. To her the music seemed everything, and the great bunch -of violets in her hand was beating unconscious time to the march. - -Far back in the shadow the boy, for he was little more, leaned forward -and watched the rapidly changing expression on her face. He followed -the action of the play only through the varying moods which found a -reflection in her eyes. Many times had he watched her thus, haunting the -theaters only to sit unobserved and gaze longingly at her every moment -that he could, then slipping quietly away before the curtain dropped to -avoid meeting her in the throng. Never once, in all the long months, had -their eyes met, and if she had been conscious of his presence she had -given no sign. - -“It has been a long time,” he muttered, moving restlessly in his seat. -“What a fool a man can be when there is a woman in the case.” - -He had met her only the summer before, a summer filled with little -excursions to nearby resorts where city folk threw off the burden of -formality in the jolly little dances and moonlight strolls. How it all -came back to him now—the open pavilion with the negro musicians, the -rapturous waltzes and the swinging two-steps and the long talk on the -broad veranda afterward, talk of nothing of great importance but which -now seemed to him to be worth years away from her. - -Then had followed the autumn and the return to the city. The long -evenings at her home, where the soft glow of the candles behind a crimson -shade had lent a new beauty to her clearly moulded features. She had -loved the soft light of the candles as she had loved the moonlight. -It had seemed that everything about her had breathed of softness and -quiet. Changing moods she had shown—he had often called her his “Maid of -infinite variety,” but each new mood had given her a new attraction in -his eyes; every new phase of her character had brought her closer to him. - -It all passed in rapid review before him. Now he sat in the old lawn -swing beside her, now he turned her music as she sang the old songs they -both loved. He remembered the good-byes at the gate and the long walk to -the city afterward. There had never been cigars with so sweet a flavor as -those which kept him company on the long way home. Just the moonlight and -the blue smoke and thoughts of her. - -But it had ended at last. Only a misunderstanding which caused a growing -coldness and then a sudden interruption of his dream. He had been too -proud to ask but once for an explanation—she was as proud as he. It had -been months since the two had met—months when the city seemed to be as -lonely as only a great city can. - -“It’s hard,” he muttered, and though his lips kept their stern, almost -defiant expression, his eyes had a half appealing look as they rested -upon the girl in the box. - -As the music broke into a new strain the girl leaned suddenly forward in -her chair and her face showed a new interest. Then her eyes dropped and -she seemed to be in a deep study. It was “The Message of the Violet” now, -and as the lovers on the stage began the song the audience was hushed -into silence. Over the footlights came the strains, mellow, vibrant, -charging the very air with the smell of violets and of spring. The girl -saw instead of the picture on the stage a vision of a summer night, a -quiet corner on the old veranda. The music floated toward them while the -dancers swept over the floor and he was repeating to her the story of his -love. She had listened half in joy, half in fright, and tears had mingled -with smiles before a bevy of laughing girls had called them back to the -dance. - -The song ended and a great burst of applause awoke the girl from her -reverie. Her eyes turned instinctively toward the audience and far back -in the shadow she saw him, his eyes half covered with his hand. Over her -swept a new feeling, a sudden resolve. She fingered the violets on her -lap as the song rose once more into the chorus: - - “I love you, love you, love you, - And my heart’s true blue.” - -The young man felt a tap on his shoulder. A boyish usher was dropping a -tiny bunch of violets into his hand. - -“From the young lady in the third box,” he said. - - - - - WHOSE TEMPLE YE ARE. - - BY ISABELLA HOWE FISK. - - - In the quarry of its earthly life, - Works the soul. - Though it suffer toil and strife, - Thy control - Canst hew out the rough material - For a master-builder’s plan; - And the soul shall rise ethereal - From the structure of the man. - In beneath the granite arches - Swings the spirit’s censer fair, - And amid the ritual arches - Incense rises through the air. - - - - -[Illustration] - - Lyrical and Satirical - - CONDUCTED BY VERMOUTH. - - - WHAT’S THE USE? - - (A Rhyme of Spring Fever) - - There’s so much to do and there’s so little time,— - What’s the use? - There’s so much that’s prosy and so little rhyme,— - What’s the use? - The fishing is fine and you can’t get away, - And you have to sleep night time instead of by day, - And when you feel gloomy you’ve got to be gay.— - What’s the use? - - Most folks are stupid and very few true, - What’s the use? - If the evenings are purple, next mornings are blue,— - What’s the use? - If mentally strong you are morally weak, - And you never attain what you most fondly seek; - You choose a companion and find him a freak,— - What’s the use? - - The good are as bad as the wicked are pure,— - What’s the use? - The famous unhealthy, the saintly obscure,— - What’s the use? - And when you have passed through the dark vale of tears, - And St. Peter enjoins you to cast off your fears, - You’ve got to sing hymns for some six million years,— - What’s the use? - - - AN INTERESTING PLOT. - -The rumored threat of President Castro of Venezuela to overrun and lay -waste this fair land of ours is not creating the popular interest that -such a dread announcement might be supposed to arouse. Possibly public -sentiment is not entirely convinced that His Presidency would act the -bully merely because it is in his power to do so. So far only a single -element has exhibited jingo propensities, but there is no telling how -far it may go to embroil the nation in a sanguinary entanglement that -could have but one possible termination. The lone disturbing element in -question consists of a party of intrepid soldiers-of-fortune fictionists, -comic opera librettists, pure humorists and promotors of high-class -vaudeville who are keen to feel the possibilities of so much rich -material being imported to their very doors. Richard Harding Davis is -reported to be mobilizing a bunch of bold buccaneers, ably assisted by -Mr. Dooley, George Ade, Dinkelspiel, O. Henry and other intrepid spirits, -to meet the incoming hosts and apply for syndicate privileges. That the -situation demands finesse and diplomacy, however, is obvious, for all -would be lost should some irreverent band of roving cowboys round up and -rope the outfit before they could get at it, or should some thoughtless -and lacking-in-humor police squad run amuck and confine the layout in -some local bastile. The amusement loving public might be expected to at -least stand between this patriotic movement and such a dread contingency. - -The following may be reasonably conceived as the final preparation -for the impending invasion: President Castro: “Are the choruses well -drilled and are the comedians and soubrettes in good voice?” Leader of -the Orchestra: “Si, Senor.” President Cas.: “Are the costumes new and -up-to-date, and is scenery in good order and packed for shipment?” -Master of Properties: “Si, Senor.” President Cas.: “Has the vanguard -of press agents and bill posters taken the field?” Booking Agent: “A -most formidable array, your Augustness.” President Cas.: “Then on the -road! And may your performances prove so meritorious that you will carry -everything before you till you reach the great Metropolis itself. This -feat your proud people expect you to accomplish in time for the fall -openings.” After which labored and patriotic outburst the president lit a -cigarette and called for a demi-tasse with which to restore his depleted -energies. - - - HARD LUCK. - -It was his sixtieth birthday and in times agone he had fondly anticipated -the arrival of that occasion as marking a happy fruition of his talents -and a mature mellowing of his energies. Instead, however, he found -himself summoned to appear before the public executioner with the family -Bible and prove its records false or be humanely extinguished in the -interest of modern enlightenment. “This is too hard,” he murmured, “but -it would be infamous as well as futile to question the authority of -the Good Book, and besides I am too young to die. Though I appreciate -theoretically the demands of civilization, as a practical proposition the -idea has its limitations.” - -It was with difficulty that he was enabled to restrain a tear when he -thought of the young wife whom he had taken unto himself just prior -to the enactment of the regulation for the removal of the innocuously -obsolete, and whom he now felt that he had procured under false -pretences. His pessimistic misgivings were accentuated by a picture of -her after he had gone to his reward striving for sustenance wherewith -to nurture the innocent infant cooing at her breast. But every remedy -was exhausted. The President had declined to interpose with as much as -a temporary respite, regretting his painful obligation but tactfully -reminding him of the majesty of the law, the interests of society and -the demands of the strenuous life. In due season he was led face to face -with the public chloroformer, who humanely inquired of him if he had -aught to observe by way of valedictory. Not anticipating such courteous -consideration, he was temporarily abashed, but recovering his dormant -speech, feebly but feelingly observed: “Only a single request. When I -shall have yielded up and taken flight to that somber realm whence no -traveler has as yet returned, spare my modest memory from the obituary -paragrapher, who would chronicle the lamented departure from our midst -of another consistent church member and well beloved citizen.” Saying -which he inhaled deeply and peacefully passed into the big slumber while -his fair young wife adopted the proud profession of a laundress and his -innocent babe was carefully safe-guarded in a local institution for the -homeless progeny of those who had they been permitted to ramble at large -would have been “only in the way.” - - - WHY NOT BE SENSIBLE? - -It is not to be presumed that in the present age of popular enlightenment -people do not know better than to trifle with germs. It is, therefore, -alarming to note that with light they will continue to practically commit -suicide by a failure to observe the most ordinary rules of hygiene. In -the mad pursuit of pelf and position little heed is being given to the -omnipresence of bacilli, bacteria and other mischievous, pernicious and -fatal agencies. Why will people supinely continue to court death in -street cars, theaters, churches and at crowded entertainments, where the -most casual movement sets into motion myriads of germs that are inhaled, -eaten and absorbed by those present? And why will they disregard common -caution by eating food in hotels, cafés, restaurants, Pullman cars and at -home, when all food is known to be gorged with murderous molecules of one -sort or another? And why perpetuate the dangerous habit of washing when -both soap and water are teeming with baleful bacteria? There are still a -few who continue to take water into their system in full realization that -it contains something more than a million germs per drop. And is there -no way of impressing the public with the fatal consequence of sleeping -in beds and sitting in chairs, and of riding and walking through streets -surrounded by air which is composed largely of corrosive sublimate—a -deadly poison? And as for kissing? Only Igorrote, Hottentots and Russians -can be forgiven for not knowing better. So deathly does modern research -recognize this primitive and all but obsolete practice to be, that it -is being seriously considered of adoption as a pleasing and more humane -substitute for chloroform as an antique exterminator. Why not conform -to the simple necessities and observe the rational precaution of doing -nothing without first being sterilized and aerated? And let those -determined to drink remember to recognize as sanitary only those fluids -commonly known to be strongly germicidal. It would seem that the present -generation will never reach a true realization of its peril until it has -already become extinct. - - - THE NORTHERN VIEWPOINT. - - His heart went out in feeling - To the colored brother kneeling - At the white man’s feet; - His brother’s wrongs oppressed him - And a poem he addressed him, - Warm and neat. - - He suffered indignation, - He swore by all creation - ’Twas a crime, - To deny him social right— - Wasn’t black as good as white - Every time? - - By the way, in this connection - He’s now visiting this section,— - He finds the matter clear— - And without aid or suggestion - He has come to view the question - As one of atmosphere. - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - EDITORIAL - - - FRENZIED POLITICS. - -There are thousands of men in politics who are the very salt of the -earth. Indeed, the majority are honest and true. But it is rapidly -becoming fashionable for clans of bold, political schemers to put their -heads together and capture the floating vote and thus defeat the will of -the people; and to such these lines are dedicated. - -Modern machine politics is the most subtle and exquisite art that -ever crushed a hope or shattered a dream. It is the beautiful art of -chloroforming public confidence and stealing the reins of power from the -hands of the sleeping sovereigns. It is the mysterious art of political -hoodoo, which works shady miracles in every theater of government, from -the county courthouse to the national capitol. - -The jugglers of this art slip into conventions, caucuses and legislative -halls, and whisper a magic word, and lo! in the twinkling of an eye, -majorities are changed to minorities, and minorities to majorities; oft -expressed opinions and deep rooted convictions upon vital principles -and policies of government are reversed in an hour, and the enchanted -floating solons, forgetting old hickory shirt and copperas breeches at -home, forgetting the men with cheeks of tan who walk in the furrow, -forgetting the sturdy toilers at the anvil, the workbench and the drill, -losing sight of the confiding multitudes who but yesterday twined the -laurel wreath of honor about their brows,—fall down upon their faces -before the golden Combine, in that sacred temple of free government which -is dedicated to righteousness and the liberty of the people, crying with -a loud voice both night and day, “Great is Diana of the Ephesians!” That -whispered word, so full of the music and the dream, is “Pie.” O, wondrous -word of marvelous power! O, sweet and juicy symbol of perfect happiness. -O, ravishing synonym of golden eagles and the goddess of liberty! In -it are reflected the bewildering glories of a thousand heavens of pure -delight; golden slippers and laurel wreaths to burn; heaving seas of -“sour mash” whose amber surfs forever break on fragrant shores of mint; -sweet journeys on Pullman palaces of rosewood and mahogany to the land -of the orange and the palm. In it are the stolen fires of the stars, -flashing in diamond shirt studs, and the crimson glow of sunset skies -imprisoned in rubies set in gold on lily white hands that will toil again -never more. In it are visions of mansions in spreading groves where the -wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest. Is it any wonder, -then, that opinions so suddenly change and promises and pledges so -swiftly dissolve into a puff of wind and leave not a rack behind? Is it -any wonder that Samson is shorn of his locks while yet he slumbers, and -only wakes to find his window up, his strength and piety gone and his -breeches pockets turned wrongside out? Is it any wonder that when, at -last, the Rip Van Winkle of Public Confidence rises up from his trance -he finds only the skeleton of Fidelity at his feet and the gunstock of -safety rotted away from the rusted barrel of sovereignty by his side? -And is it any wonder that he exclaims, in the language of old Rip of the -Adirondacks, “Am I so soon forgot?” Is it any wonder that the bewildered -Commonwealth, like poor old Rip, so often looks around, and failing to -recognize the little pile of bones near by, asks with tearful eyes, “Vare -iss mine leetle dog Schneider?” - - But what doth great Diana care - For Samson when he’s lost his hair? - The tears are vain that Rip doth shed: - He slept too long, his dog is dead. - So states are shorn, and nations weep, - For crime committed while they sleep. - -Scheming lobbyists of mighty combines juggle together and whisper into -the listening ears of shrewd politicians, “You’ve got the power and we’ve -got the pie. We are willing to swap pie for power. What _we_ want is -legislation or no legislation, as our interests may require. What _you_ -want is _office_.” Then the politicians juggle and honey fuggle the -floating vote, and there is a mighty shuffling of political cards and -soon they all join hands behind closed doors and the soft whisper passes -round the ring, “We are one and inseparable for power and for pie; we are -the flowers that bloom in the spring, tra, la! Let the word be mum.” Then -follows the secret banquet of bargain and intrigue under the very dome of -liberty. It is quite exclusive, even more so than a banquet of the four -hundred in the great metropolis. Old Copperas Breeches is not invited nor -Brother Hickory Shirt, nor Dr. Honesty, nor ’Squire Patriotism, nor any -of the old folks at home. There is no room around the festive board for -Professor Pedagogue, of Purity High School, nor Deacon Righteousness, of -Churchville. The public welfare is lost in the shuffle. After a short -blessing is whispered by the Rev. Judasio Iscarriotis, the sumptuous -feast begins, the menu consisting alone of pie: senatorial pie, sweetened -with ring syrup; gubernatorial mince pie, flavored with moonshine; -speakership pie, highly seasoned with the sunshine of spicy promises -of favors to come; clerkship pie, dripping with the honey of fat and -succulent salaries; and on down, to a little half moon dried apple pie of -a free pass to oblivion. - - They clink their merry glasses, - Now hear them softly sing— - “The people are all asses, - Diana’s in the swing!” - And after the feast is over, - After the pie is gone, - The combines are in clover, - As we go marching on. - -Then the band begins to play, and the elephant moves around, bearing on -his spacious back the anointed high priests of Pie and Power, followed by -a great procession of worshipers, and heralded by a flourish of trumpets -in the hands of the jugglers, who alternately blow and shout, crying out, -as with one voice, “Great is Diana of the Ephesians, who hath the world -by the tail and a down-hill pull! Clear the way for the most high priest -of power! Clear the way for the priestly priest of Pie! Hail, all hail!!” - -Thus the dismal tale of history runs; hopes of free government are -crushed; dreams of liberty are shattered; blind Samson nurses his wrath -until his shorn locks grow out again; and then, with giant strength and -insane rage, he lays hold of the pillars of the temple, - - And with a crash republics fall, - Down go liberty, combines and all. - -This is the shady side of politics. But the burnished crest of the -darkest cloud reflects in golden arcs the splendors of the sun, and the -angels of hope hang a rainbow on its bosom. All power is inherent in the -people, and there are patriotism and courage enough in their bosoms to -weather the storms that rise dark o’er the way, if they do not get lost -in the Adirondacks of Prosperity and drink from the jug of indifference -and sleep too long on their rights. - -Combined capital is digging its own grave when it becomes the Diana of -modern machine politics. And combined Labor is driving the nails in its -own coffin when the spirit of anarchy directs its blows for the redress -of its grievances. Until recently the South has maintained its integrity -and its immunity from the hoodoo art of machine politics; but the methods -of destruction have found their way into Southern capitols, and, unless -Samson wakes, he will soon find himself utterly powerless to use his -favorite jaw-bone, or any other kind of a weapon, on the Philistine -combines who are plotting against him in the temple. - -God speed the day when Capital and Labor shall combine under the banner -of arbitration and of peace, and when the battle cry of the Republic -shall be, “Equal and exact justice to all, with special favors to one.” - - - A TALE OF A LECTURE TOUR. - -I entered the car, threw my grip between two seats and sat down by a -drummer. He looked at my valise and then at me and dryly asked, “Are -you a traveling man?” “Yes,” was my reply. “What is your line?” asked -he. “_Sweetened wind_,” quoth I. A smile lighted his face as he quickly -asked, “Preacher or lecturer?” And then there was a laugh and a lull. - -After an all day’s travel which wore me into a frazzle, I reached my -destination at 8.30 P.M. It was a cold, drizzling evening. The skies -were leaking spray, and in the language of Mrs. Partington, the street -was a perfect “lullaby” of soft and sticky mud. The little freckle-faced -dreamer who had bought me for a hundred and fifty caught me by the arm -with one hand as I stepped off the cars and seized my grip with the other -and literally pushed me head foremost into a Jim Crow hack drawn by one -old spavined horse, - - With one eye out and t’other blind, - He racked before and paced behind, - -until we reached the hall where I was to lecture. I found a little cold -and shivering crowd seated there, waiting to be warmed by my eloquence, -and without a chance to make my toilet and don my little “swallow tail,” -I was ushered on the stage and introduced as the greatest orator, -philosopher, poet, musician, statesman, scientist, actor and artist that -ever came down the pike, whereupon I began to shake my jaw and pour out -my metaphors; but somehow or other my eagle wouldn’t soar that night. He -flopped his cold and flabby wings and rose and fell for an hour and a -quarter. The audience departed like mourners from a funeral; but one good -old lady lingered in the hall till I came off the stage and in her pity -she sidled up to me and whispered, “I liked your little talk right well.” -I found the freckled-face dreamer waiting at the door, and, cold as it -was, the sweat was rolling down his cheeks. His face was the picture of -despair when he handed me a hundred dollar bill and ten fives. I knew -that his castle in the air had fallen. “How did you come out?” I asked. -“Well, Governor,” he said, with a tremulous voice, “I’m out just eighteen -dollars.” I took the roll he had given me out of my pocket and skinned -off four bills in the light of the lamp dimly burning and said, “There -are twenty dollars, my boy, and my blessing upon you.” He almost shouted -and pressed my hand continuously as we walked through the mud to the -little hotel on the starvation plan. Then there were a brief sleep and an -easy conscience. I crossed the Father of Waters in triumph next morning -and tarried in Memphis till the next train out. I went to the bank to buy -New York exchange, took out my roll and lo! I had given old freckle-face -the one hundred dollar bill and three fives. Then again there was a laugh -and a lull—he laughed and I lulled. I pocketed my laugh and my loss -and climbed into the pouch of a Southern Kangaroo on wheels and with -a single hop I cleared the state of Mississippi and lit in Alabama. I -climbed out and got into the ’bus in a beautiful little town among the -blushing hills. Before I had washed the dust of travel from my brow, a -spider-legged dude, with ambrosial locks curled and parted in the middle, -came strutting like a clean-shaven and musk-scented dream into the dingy -and time-honored little room where my valise and I were safely deposited, -and with Chesterfieldian bow and a fluted voice announced that he had -been designated by the ladies to introduce me that night to the audience. -He shook his curls and said, “Governor, I have never delivered a speech -in my life, but I have been at work on this one for about two weeks; and -pardon me for saying that I think she’s a daisy.” - -“Well, my friend,” I said, “I am fond of daisies.” With another shake -of his locks he said, “The society people are all coming out to-night -to hear me introduce you.” I shook my scanty locks and said, “I am glad -there is something bringing them out.” - -The clock struck 8. An elegant carriage stopped at the hotel door where -I was waiting, and the sweet-scented dream in full evening dress, -emerged, and gently took me by the arm and ushered me into it. We went -whirling to the stage entrance of the theater, but as we walked up the -stairs I observed that he tottered like a man ascending the gallows and -his lips were colorless and quivering. We took our seats side by side -behind the curtain. I motioned to the curtain man that all was ready, -and with a whiz and a bang the curtain went up, and, sure enough, there -in front of us, in the brilliantly lighted auditorium, was a breathing -bouquet of youth and beauty and old age which greeted us with a storm of -applause—the society folks had indeed come out to hear him introduce me. -I nudged my friend and said, “Shoot.” He never budged. I nudged him again -and said, “Go ahead!” He never budged. I looked around and his face was -as white as a sheet and great drops of perspiration like beads of pearl -were standing on his pallid brow. I said again, “Go ahead!” and in his -agony he mumbled with muffled voice, “Governor, she’s gone.” There was -a lull and a laugh, and in about two seconds he was gone. Before I had -delivered half my sweetened goods I observed a number of yawns and stolen -glances at watches and increasing signs that my crowd wanted to go. There -is no anguish like that which a lecturer feels when his listless audience -turns to frost and nips all his flowers of speech. The saddest spectacle -in all the tide of time is a frost-bitten orator. He gathers up his -little withered tropes and similes and vanishes, and all that saves him -from suicide is the dream that he will blossom again in a more congenial -garden. I collected my tribute money in the Alabama town and mounted a -grasshopper train and went hopping and stridulating from rail to rail -until I found a patch of clover in a rich and aristocratic Georgia town -where I lounged and exchanged anecdotes with traveling men and with -the natives until the lights were turned on and I stood all robed in -my “swallow tail,” in the midst of as delightful an audience as ever -listened to a sap-sucker speech or laughed at the unwinding of my little -ball of yarns. A tall and handsome Georgia lawyer rose to introduce me -and thus he spake: - -“Ladies and Gentlemen: I have traveled a great deal in my life and on -one of my journeys I took in the mountains of East Tennessee. I paused -in that peculiar country to study the customs of that peculiar people. -They make maple sugar in East Tennessee. They have great sugar orchards -there, and one of the customs of the people is to tap the sugar trees -in the spring when the sap begins to rise and they give the children in -the family a tin cup and turn them out into the sugar orchard and never -see them any more for six weeks. I have the pleasure to introduce to you -to-night a sap-sucker from East Tennessee!” - - There was a lull and a laugh, - And the sap began to run, - And they kindly took a quaff - From my sugar-trough of fun. - -I settled with the secretary of the treasury and mounted a March hare -train and sped away through many a cotton patch, from town to town, out -of Georgia into the Old North State, and, flanking Charlotte, squatted at -the State University at Chapel Hill, that classic spot of earth so rich -with memories of the glorious past and still teeming with joyous student -life, like those who have gone before, dreaming of the glorious future. -There I met Dr. Battle, that grand old man who has fought a thousand -battles for enlightenment and human happiness. There I met Alphonso -Smith, one of the South’s foremost young men in the field of educational -endeavor and whose soul is in tune with Southern progress and Southern -development. - -There, too, I met Eben Alexander, a brilliant star from the sky of -Tennessee, shedding the soft light of Grecian literature upon the -youthful brain of Carolina. I met a score of other stars in the faculty -of this great University. I stood on the platform of its splendid -auditorium and tossed bouquets at as refined and cultured an audience as -ever sipped sap from a sugar tree. And when I packed my grip and started -Southward I could not repress the sweet old song: - - “Hurrah! hurrah! for the Old North State forever! - Hurrah! hurrah! for the good Old North State!” - -Finally, I landed in Charleston, South Carolina, where I played -Beauregard, but instead of firing bomb shells at Ft. Sumter, I fired -soap bubbles at the heads and hearts of a magnificent audience of -representative Charlestonians; and whether I pleased them or not, they -were so generous and hospitable as to flatter me with occasional bombs of -laughter and a few volleys of applause. - -I swung back through Alabama to my home in Nashville, on hearing the -news that the political sap was rising; but, alas! only to find that the -Tennessee sugar tree was already tapped, you see, and that the senatorial -sugar-trough was full of sap-suckers holding a snap caucus, and there was -a lull and a laugh—I lulled and they laughed. When I awoke from my lull -I kissed my wife and children good-bye, and broke for Texas, the queenly -young sister of Tennessee, who took me in her arms, and brushing away my -political tears, pressed me to her loving heart. - -There is no state in the Union that gives a Tennesseean a warmer welcome -than Texas, because her lap is full of Tennesseeans, and, moreover, she -is naturally hospitable and kind. There is a place on her fat knee for -every troubled soul, a kiss of sunshine on her lips and a lump of sugar -in her hand for every weeping wanderer. - -O, glorious empire state of the sun-kissed South, with thy hundred and -seventy-five thousand square miles of as rich a country as was ever -tickled by the plow or the pick, and as ever laughed a harvest of cotton -and grain for the comfort and happiness of man! With thy cattle on a -thousand hills, thy countless flocks, thy gushing wells of oil, thy -fields of rice and sugar cane stretching far away like the sweet fields -of Eden on the other side of Jordan! With thy fatness thou canst feed -and warm the world! I wonder why the poor huddle in the smoke and filth -of crowded cities when Texas smiles and beckons them to her landscapes -of beauty, where the prairie flowers bloom and the sunshine plays with -the zephyrs from the Gulf and sometimes scuffles with a cyclone. I -wonder why toiling millions dwell amid blackened walls only to be slaves -to heartless masters, when untouched fields invite the happy home and -virgin soil still waits for the plowman and his merry song. I wonder why -helpless children are doomed to die by thousands in polluted hovels and -crowded alleys, when the green meadows of Texas bid them come and chase -the butterflies among the bluebells and the daisies, and the blossoming -hills call them hither to romp and play where the happy birds sing and -the cows come home in the evening fragrant with the breath of alfalfa and -the sweet wild grasses of the plains. Texas is a Paradise for the poor, -it is a third heaven for the rich. - -But I am about to forget that I was talking about my lecture tour. Let me -see!—O, yes!—“All aboard for Nashville!” the conductor cries. Well, the -rest of my story I will tell around the happy hearthstone of home. - - - FOOLISH DREAMERS. - -It is a marvelous truth that this golden era of the world’s history has -inspired no great poets that rank with Byron and Burns and Tom Moore and -a long list of other immortals who have enriched literature with their -songs; and it has developed but few prose writers worthy to wear the -mantles of Blackstone and Kent in law, of Gibbon and Macaulay in history, -and Scott and Bulwer in romance and fiction. - -It is well we call it the golden era, for it is an era of commercialism, -when men are trampling literature and art and music under their feet -in the mad rush for gold and the gilded glory that it buys. To be a -millionaire is greater in the estimation of modern worshipers of mammon -than to be a Goldsmith; and a multimillionaire is greater in their -gold-jaundiced eyes than a William Shakespeare. The highest aspiration of -these nervous and strenuous generations is the acquirement and hoarding -of gold. Religion is tinged with it. Politics is its ally—and alloy -in the ratio of sixteen of gold to one of Patriotism. And most of the -business and social relations of this enlightened age are purely golden -and measured only by the circumference of a dollar. The English poet -sounded the keynote of true philosophy when he sang: - - “Ill fares the land to hastening ills a prey - Where wealth accumulates and men decay.” - -The true wealth of a nation rests not so much on bricks of gold as upon -golden thought—the riches of brain and heart—the treasures of truth and -the pure and beautiful sentiments of life. In the wild scramble for -sordid gain and the golden reins of power in these wing-footed days of -avarice and materialism, the angels of happiness no longer beckon from -the landscape and the stream nor call from the sweet solitudes of the -forest; but they stand tip-toe on the burnished domes and glittering -towers of the city and the town, with crowns of gold in their hands. And -the brain and brawn of the land gather there from the hills and hollows -to climb after them on a thousand ladders of dreams. But the environments -of domes and towers, while they stimulate the brain to grasp great -financial problems and to weave the web of glory around the thrones of -money kings, contract the nobler and better ideals and impulses of the -heart to the gilded forms of artificial pleasure. - -Did you ever watch a bevy of city swells and society belles swinging and -whirling under flaming chandeliers until the coat-tails of the swells -popped like whip crackers and the skirts of the belles flapped like the -sails of a schooner in a high wind? That was a piping gale of pleasure in -high life in the town. Did you ever attend a great reception in the heart -of the metropolis? It was a gorgeous scene of icicles and spectacles, -of broadcloth, and jewels arrayed in white slippers and costly gowns -of richest colors; and the icicles and spectacles bowed to the jewels, -and the jewels bowed to the icicles and spectacles and they held sweet -converse on the subject of their bicycles and tricycles and various and -sundry articles and drank champagne and sherry and all got very merry and -wound up with oysters and dill pickles. And then the tipsy icicles and -spectacles got in their elegant vehicles and went home with the jewels in -the morning. That was the cream of urban civilization. Did you ever gaze -on a gaudy throng of bald-headed Apollos and painted Minervas walling -their eyes in speechless rapture before the garish lights of the grand -opera? How the fans and ribbons fluttered and the side-whiskers swayed -and spluttered amid the inscrutable harmonies of Wagner! That was the -tuneless pandemonium of urban music. Did you ever watch the bulls and -bears of finance turn the stock exchange into a howling wilderness of -confusion in the struggle to raise or lower prices? That was the third -heaven of artificial pleasure and excitement in the city. - -But what is a thrill of victory in the gambling hell of frenzied finance -compared with the joy a fisherman feels down on the farm when a game -trout strikes his baited hook in the darkening eddy of a crystal stream -and the good reel sings as he gives him line and the fishing rod bends -and the waters splash? What is the gilded club room where the wizards of -finance meet to sip and smoke and shuffle the cards of fortune compared -with a fisherman’s tent and a fisherman’s luck on the bank of a moonlit -river where hearts are trumps and souls overflow with song and story? - -Did you ever hear the tale of Mark Antony, the funeral orator of Rome -and the Romeo of the Nile? He went angling in Egypt one day on the royal -barge with the beautiful Cleopatra and he fished and fished and fished, -unrewarded by a nibble, until the hours grew dull and heavy. But the -cunning queen conceived a plan to change her lover’s luck and unfolded -the scheme to a slave; and the slave secretly dived from the larboard -side of the boat and hung a dried herring on the General’s hook and then -gave his line a vigorous pull. “By Jupiter!” shouted Mark Antony, “I have -hooked a monstrous fish.” “Take care, my lord, and give him line lest -he drag thee into the sea,” cried the dark-eyed queen, as she chuckled -behind her fan. - -“By the gods! that fish shall flounder on thy deck, or I shall flounder -beneath the waves!” cried the impetuous Roman. He squared himself and -gave a mighty jerk, but fell sprawling on his back at the feet of the -laughing queen, and when he looked up and saw nothing but a little dried -herring dangling among the ropes above him, he blandly smiled and dryly -said: “He was a monstrous fish while biting, but between his bite and my -jerk, he has wonderfully shriveled. But he’s the oldest looking fish and -has the loudest smell of any that ever perfumed the royal barge.” - -And so many an ambitious Antony sits in the stock exchange of the -great city and drops his hook in the sea of speculation, and he fishes -and fishes with his little wad of hard earned cash, until some shrewd -manipulator, just to change his luck, takes the little wad off and gives -the line a heavy pull, and when our guileless Antony thinks he has hooked -a million, he jerks and falls at the feet of fickle fortune, and finds -dangling in the air above him only the dried herring of a shrivelled -hope, and there is nothing left but the aged look of an empty purse and -the smell of a dream that is vanished! - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - LEISURE HOURS - - For Conference Between the Magazine and its Readers. - - -When The Taylor Publishing Company made its announcement of the -forthcoming appearance of BOB TAYLOR’S MAGAZINE, its statements were -received with interest by all, with enthusiastic approval by many and -with predictions of disaster by sundry Jeremiahs and Thomases. For the -last named class the fact that a Southern magazine had not succeeded, -though many had been projected, was sufficient reason for the conclusion -that none could succeed, and possible success versus probable failure was -discussed throughout the length and breadth of the land. - -Meanwhile, Governor Robert L. Taylor and his co-laborers in the -enterprise, imbued with a belief in the feasibility of the venture, -with the idea of the vital necessity to the people of the South of a -literary periodical which might adequately and fittingly represent the -literary life and customs and romance and ideals of the South, and with -an indomitable intention of firmly establishing such a useful vehicle of -thought and expression, proceeded with their organization. Literature in -regard to BOB TAYLOR’S MAGAZINE was prepared, a campaign of publicity -was inaugurated, articles and stories were secured for the first number, -paper was bought, and an issue of 10,000 copies was determined upon, as -amply sufficient for the first number. - -But herein the projectors of the enterprise underestimated the demands of -their friends. No sooner was the prospectus issued which indicated the -character of the magazine and gave a partial list of the contents of the -first number, than the mails were congested with correspondence; agents -were appointed by the hundred; subscriptions poured in; and it was -decided to print 15,000 copies instead of 10,000 copies. - -The size of the magazine, too, grew rapidly in the hands of the staff, -until, instead of the 116 pages originally planned, it was found -desirable to give 164 pages. This was rendered necessary, in part, by the -large amount of advertising secured; and this is one of the best indexes -of the faith of the people in the success of BOB TAYLOR’S MAGAZINE. -Hard-headed men of business do not give up their money for mere sentiment -or out of compliment to even so eminent and widely loved a man as -Governor Taylor. No. They look upon BOB TAYLOR’S MAGAZINE as a valuable -advertising medium—and they are right. - -At last, on the 21st of March, the eagerly awaited magazine appeared, -and far surpassed the most sanguine expectations of its readers. In the -intrinsic merit of its articles, stories and departments, in its dainty -and appropriate cover, in its numerous and handsome illustrations, in its -excellent typography and press-work, and equally in its well displayed -and interesting advertisements it fully satisfied the most critical. The -realization of a literary magazine worthy of the South was apparent. - -And yet the Jeremiahs, silenced as to the initial number, muttered _sotto -voce_: “Well, you can’t do it again.” Nevertheless, the present number -bears internal evidence that we have “done it again.” And we shall “do -it” every time. This we promise. We shall no longer pay heed to that -(fortunately small) class which experiences a melancholy pleasure in -making direful predictions. - -The avidity with which the first number of BOB TAYLOR’S MAGAZINE was -greeted was astounding even to the editor-in-chief and his staff, -notwithstanding the thousands of encouraging letters, the enormous influx -of subscriptions, even before a type had been set, and the fact that the -interest was not confined to the South but was manifested with especial -earnestness by the people of the North. Letters of congratulation by the -bushel, and complimentary editorials, reviews and press notices have told -the tale from Androscoggin to San Jose. Space, of course, precludes the -reproduction of them here, even if it were desirable, but the following -selection from a letter of the senior member of one of the largest -advertising agencies in the United States is so significant that it is -felt that its insertion will be pardoned: - -“I thought it was hardly possible there could be a place for another -magazine, and consequently took little interest in your first -announcements. When your first number came to hand, however, I was so -attracted by the dainty cover showing the ‘fiddle’ with which the name -of Bob Taylor is so intimately associated in the minds of those who know -anything of the South, and especially of Tennessee, that I carried it -home last night, and did not lay it aside until every word in it by Bob -Taylor had been read and several of the articles re-read. - -“Heartiest congratulations on the merit of the first number, the -character of which, if maintained in succeeding numbers, will surely make -a place for this new apostle of sunshine. - -“Only give us more of Bob Taylor, if possible. Why not let him have a -page between each other article each number may contain. Why restrict -him to a department or departments? John Brisben Walker wrote the entire -September, 1904, _Cosmopolitan_ unaided. It is believed Bob Taylor could -write an entire number without any assistance if he would make up his -mind to do so, and it would be certain to prove a hummer.” - -Fifteen thousand copies is a large number for the first issue of any -magazine; yet they were exhausted within one week after the magazine -came from the press, and thousands of copies have since been ordered by -agents and dealers, while an ever increasing army of new subscribers -demand, like so many Oliver Twists, with vehemence and iteration—MORE, -MORE. _And yet every copy is sold!_ - -It is a situation that pleases while it embarrasses, and it gives the -valuable pointer that we must provide larger issues, which we shall do, -that no one may miss a single number. - -Considering these facts, so briefly outlined, we would not be human -were we not elated and happy and thankful. And yet we have not, we -trust, been spoiled by lavish praise, but rather spurred on to greater -efforts to measure up to our opportunities, to the expectations of the -Southern people, and to our mission to exploit the virtues, resources and -capabilities of this section, while bringing every month more sunshine -and happiness into the heart of every reader of BOB TAYLOR’S MAGAZINE. - - * * * * * - -For the information of new subscribers we repeat that we invite, for -insertion in this department, communications on all subjects of unusual -interest and importance, such as - -Prose and poetry of sentiment, fact and fancy. - -Forgotten or unpublished bits of history and tradition. - -Anecdotes of famous men and women, and of quaint and curious occurrences. - -The best short stories and tales you have heard or read, if unusual or -unfamiliar. - -Suggestions for the special benefit of BOB TAYLOR’S MAGAZINE—how it may -be improved, what it should contain, what it should admit. - - - Industrial Energy and Enterprise of the Old South. - -There is little danger that the glories and beauties of the Old South, -as reflected in its social life and ideals, will be forgotten in the -industrial progress and prosperity of the New, for these things have -been made immortal by the sure touch of tradition and literature, but -there is another phase of the old regime well worth our pride and -attention, which seems to have well nigh faded out of popular impression -and consideration. We refer to the industrial and commercial activity -achieved by the South before the war, of which the general idea takes so -small and disparaging account. It is tacitly assumed and loosely declared -that previous to 1860 the South lived in ease and sloth upon slave-labor -and the cotton crop, paying no heed to manufactures or industrial -development, and that before the wonderful business progress of the last -decade commercial enterprise and ability were unknown qualities in this -section. There were heroes before Agamemnon, however, and the truth is -that long before the New South existed in phrase or fact, the Old South -was holding its own in wealth-producing industries with other sections of -the country. - -In a pamphlet, published some years ago, Mr. Richard H. Edmonds, -of Baltimore, first drew attention to these facts, and in so doing -performed a unique and important service to historic truth, no less -than to sectional pride. “Facts about the South” is the title of Mr. -Edmond’s brochure and he prefaces his summary of present prosperity -and prophecy of future development by a somewhat novel presentation of -Southern industrial conditions previous to 1860. He boldly challenges -the assumption that the South during that period was not fully abreast -of the times in all business interests and quotes indubitable statistics -and historic records to prove his case. In the decade between 1850 and -1860 the growth in Southern railroad and manufacturing interests was -especially marked, the government reports showing a greater percentage of -gain in the South than in New England and the Middle States, or, indeed, -the whole country at large. Moreover, the popular idea crediting the Old -South with producing only cotton, rice and sugar, is clearly disproved by -Mr. Edmonds, who gives the figures of Southern crop production for 1860, -showing a condition of agricultural diversity and prosperity unsurpassed -in any part of the country. - -This vigorous protest against a prevailing delusion should be read in its -entirety by every Southerner who, as he reads of the thrift and energy -of the Old South, will be inspired with a firmer faith in the growth and -strength of the New, recognizing in the industrial development of to-day, -as Mr. Edmonds expresses it, “not a novel creation” in this section, but -“the result of evolution.” - - * * * * * - - MR. EDITOR: - - After all the flowery speeches and kind words that have been - showered upon BOB TAYLOR’S MAGAZINE, all of which I heartily - endorse, I am afraid you will not appreciate what I am going - to say, but I’ll say it, nevertheless; it will be as good as a - corrective; too much sweets are always cloying. - - I have read the magazine through from cover to cover, even to - the advertisements, and found everything good, better, best, yet - I was disappointed and will tell you why. There was no smallest - fraction thereof devoted to women. Why is this thus? It cannot be - that you do not think women of enough importance as to be worthy - some part of it especially fitted for her eye alone. I know our - editor-in-chief doesn’t feel that way, at least he does not talk - that way, as every woman knows who ever talked to him for five - minutes by the clock. I don’t mean a page devoted to Housewives, - Motherhood, Cooking Recipes, or Fancy Work, altogether. These - are all good, every one of them, and we are all more or less - interested in them, but a page, pure and simple, devoted to - things that women are specially interested in. Will you rise and - explain, and satisfy several women? - - E. A. C. - -The above communication is self-explanatory and is published for what it -is worth. Possibly others of our friends may have something to say along -this line. At any rate, whatever is worthy of space, pertaining to women, -can, at least for a time, find expression in this department. - - - “LOCAL COLORING.” - - (Dedicated to Our Descriptive Writers.) - - The tale told thrillingly of lemon skies, - Of salmon hills beneath a blue sunrise; - It feelingly described a cerise field - Where purple rabbits ate pink onions, peeled. - - The color card passed to another pen, - And lightning changes awed our common ken; - For lo, we’re told those hills are palest mauve,— - Like molten gold the fiery sun above. - - The lemon sky has veered to cherry red,— - Maroon, the field where purple rabbits fed; - Has Nature cursed us with a spotted land? - Nay, “highly colored” tales are in demand. - - HESTER GREY. - - - IN TENNESSEE. - - Where the Mississippi washes - Round the shores of Tennessee, - There’s a large and stately forest, - And it’s very dear to me. - - There I roamed in days of boyhood - With companions free from care, - As the tree tops sway ed above us - With the west wind playing there. - - There we hunted ducks and turkeys; - Or as leaves came drifting down, - Sat and watched the graceful squirrel— - Heard the distant deep-mouthed hound. - - I can see the old tent standing, - Scent the fragrant coffee pot, - And can see the fish a-frying - On the coals so red and hot. - - We could hear the steamboat whistle, - Coming to us from afar; - And the wild geese loudly calling - Far out on the sandy bar. - - As the darkness gathered round us, - The tree tops bare and high - Seemed to touch with inky fingers - The azure autumn sky. - - And the shadows in beneath them, - Where the firelight did not go, - Made a background for dream pictures - In those days of long ago. - - Ah, those faces in the firelight - Glowed with ruddy health and joy, - As I pictured golden futures - Round the camp fire as a boy. - - I have walked the crowded city, - With restless, weary feet— - In search of praise and pleasure— - But neither seemed complete. - - For the wine the city offers - Must be drunk in little sips, - Or like the Dead Sea apples - ’Twill be ashes on the lips. - - So I’m going back a-camping, - ’Neath the sunset’s mellow glow, - There to dream the dreams of boyhood - As in days of long ago. - - G. W. BROWDER. - - _Clinton, Ky._ - - - A People Peculiar. - -Twenty years or more ago, riding through the flat, palmetto-fringed -pine woods of east Florida, before Standard Oil Flagler built his -coast railroad to Miami, sundry lean, swarthy, active people of both -sexes, were frequently to be met with, more especially in and about St. -Augustine, and to the southward towards New Smyrna. They are doubtless to -be found there yet, though the great influx of miscellaneous strangers -renders their racial traits less noticeable than formerly. - -Ask one of the large-framed Swedes, Germans, or other scions of a more -pronounced North-of-Europe type, who and what these Latin looking -peasantry are, the chance is you will be answered, or at least would have -been at the time I alluded to above: - -“When folks want to be civil they call them Minorcans; when they don’t -they are mighty apt to say something about Doc. Turnbull’s niggers. So, -there you are—take your choice.” - -As a matter of fact, they are a really worthy and industrious element -of our composite population, not unlike the descendants of Longfellow’s -Acadians, the “Cajuns” of southern Louisiana. Though of a hybrid sort -of Spanish ancestry, from the Balearic Isles in the Mediterranean Sea, -they have Americanized themselves through several generations of quiet -usefulness in an humble, unobtrusive way. - -What is their history? How came they here? - -That takes us back to the year 1767. The Floridas had only recently been -ceded by Spain to England, when some fifteen hundred colonists, mostly -from Minorca, one of the Balearic group, were landed at Musquito Inlet, -one hundred miles south of St. Augustine. - -Many think that the only people held as slaves in the South prior to -the Civil War, were negroes, or possibly in very early colonial times, -a few spiritless tribes of Indians. Yet these colonists (ancestors of -the present Minorcans now strung along the lagoons and bayous of the -east coast, intermittently for many leagues) were made, willy-nilly, for -nine long, weary years, to toil amid the swamps and hammocks of what is -now Volusia County, as the virtual slaves of a British Trading Company -of that era, headed by Sir Wm. Duncan and a Dr. Andrew Turnbull, shrewd -Scotchmen of wealth and social position, who operated their scheme from -London; Sir William being the resident manager there, and a financial -magnate on the Stock Exchange himself. - -Turnbull, the immediate head of the colony in Florida, was hard-hearted, -energetic, indomitable and persevering—one of that unconscionable, -never-give-up sort of task masters, who worked the helpless peasants -mercilessly in the malarious swamps embraced within the area of the -immense land grant held by the Company’s charter. - -Tradition avers that he founded the original town of New Smyrna, dug -drainage canals, built stone warehouses, cleared several thousand acres -of dense forest, and began to raise indigo on a large scale. - -The contracts of the colonists, under which they were to receive -allotments of land, proper wages and maintenance, were ruthlessly and -systematically violated. The region was then remote and inaccessible, and -the poor, ignorant peasantry, helpless to a degree hard to realize, in -our own day, outside of, perhaps, Siberia, or Tibet, in far-off Asia. - -So isolated was that section from all connection with the outside world -that this sort of thing went on for years without its being known, even -at St. Augustine. The lands were not divided, nor the wages paid. -Instead the Minorcans were compelled to work like the Israelites in -Egypt, under harsh overseers, amid all the discomforts of a semi-tropic -wilderness, environed by savage tribes to the west and south, trailed by -bloodhounds to prevent escape, punished like convicts, and wretchedly -housed and fed. Guarded also by armed men, their condition was, indeed, -most forlorn and miserable. - -It was said that our own Revolution against Great Britain had been going -on for a year or more, before these long suffering Minorcans heard that -such a thing had been even considered by the more northerly colonies. -Then, however, the worm turned. There was a great uprising, for such a -life, now tinged with a ray of hope, was unendurable. - -Harsh measures were resorted to by Turnbull, who also evoked the aid of -the civil law, claiming that the Minorcans had violated their contracts -as a sort of “Redemptioners,” bound to serve for a stipulated period, -etc. Some of the ring leaders were taken to St. Augustine by soldiers, -and five actually condemned to death. Of these, two were pardoned; one -was reprieved, on condition that he act as executioner of the remaining -two; a number of others were, for a time, imprisoned. - -The wretched colonists, however, continued to run away in larger numbers, -either defying or defeating recapture, so that Turnbull eventually -found himself without labor. The town, the plantations, and the various -public works were deserted, and the vast enterprises thus despotically -inaugurated, were at last stranded. - -In vain did he, in the name of the now semi-defunct London Trading -Company, make most liberal offers of land and wages to his recalcitrant -and vanishing slaves. They wanted no more of Turnbull, his methods, or -his works. The entire scheme fell through; Dr. Andrew Turnbull went -back to England a ruined man; the town crumbled into ruins, the indigo -plantations lapsed into a second forest growth; the labyrinth of ditches -filled up, until only the remains of the old canal, some crumbling -coquina ruins, and the name of the chief despot himself, now given to -the ancient land grant which was the scene of his cruelties, and known -generally as Turnbull Hammock, are left as mementoes of one of the -gloomiest pages of our by no means untroubled colonial annals. - -Instead of a natural increase in numbers during ten years of bondage and -escape, not more than seven or eight hundred of the immigrants were left. -But they were naturally thrifty and economical. Once scattered out and -doing for themselves, unburdened by the incubus of Turnbullism, their -numbers and resources gradually increased. Probably several thousand of -their descendants, more or less intermixed with alien blood, still occupy -the land of their forefathers’ adoption. These are small farmers (engaged -in truck, and semi-tropic fruit growing), fishermen, boat sailors, and -petty traders. A few have risen to social and political eminence as well -as wealth. But these cases are rather exceptional. - -As a whole, they are patriotic American citizens. The late war with -Spain, for the relief of Cuba, proved that. Many of the younger men -volunteered for service. Some even went to the Philippines. - -“Free America vur beeg contree,” said a returned soldier to one of his -home folks who had never seen a hill higher than some of the great shell -mounds on the eastern shore of the Matanzas River. “Mountains higher -than clouds, lakes wide like sea. Minorcans vur small people. Room for -ever’one here. Home best place after all.” - -And so it is, even for the posterity of those so woefully misused by the -British Trading Company’s George the Third methods, as to be miscalled -five generations later by local detractors, “Turnbull’s slaves.” - - WM. PERRY BROWN. - - - The Mosquito. - -There are more than three hundred and fifty tribes belonging to the -mosquito race. These have been classified by the detectives of science -into twenty-two families, and all placed in the same category with -gnats, which are looked upon by most people as suspicious characters. -These families are known by names of such “learned length and thundering -sound” that it is thought safest to abstain from giving a list of them -here; but like man, they may be known better by their color, habits and -eccentricities than by name. - -The mosquito is cosmopolitan, for he has explored and settled many parts -of the arctic regions, including Alaska, Greenland and Iceland, and -established his home on the continents of Europe, Asia and Africa, and in -the remotest islands of the sea. He had very probably discovered America -before Christopher Columbus set sail for the new world, and it is now -pretty certain that he first colonized New Jersey. - -He has figured extensively in the history of the world, yet he wears no -laurel wreath of glory for valor in war. All martial victories and renown -of his race belong to the gentler (?) sex of the family. She is a kind -of Joan of Arc, of a fierce, restless and war-like spirit; but it is -consoling to know that she is less savage in the temperate than in the -torrid zone; for, we are informed by travelers that in the tropics she -often leads her legions in a charge with fixed bayonets directly upon a -sleeping man’s face, when they fall upon him in myriads, like pelting -hailstones out of a storm-cloud. - -There are instances of record in which her furious armies have filled the -air for many miles, darkening the heavens like dense columns of flying -cloud, and attacking man and beast like blood-thirsty demons. A Greek -historian relates that such an army once swooped down upon ancient Greece -and drove the inhabitants from their homes. - -Besides being thus famous as a soldier, she enjoys the unique distinction -of being a queen of song. Strange to say, in this gift she has a complete -monopoly, while the male has been left to regret the sad fate of being -forever songless and silent. However, he has been well compensated for -this privation. Some tribes of his race have less musical talent than -others; but those who have studied his anatomy, habits and genius declare -that in tribes in which there are queens of song, he is, without doubt, -the king of listeners, since nature has provided him with many hundreds -of ears, no doubt to enhance his pleasure from vocal music. These curious -ears are small hairs located on his antennæ, or feelers, which, like -the strings of harp or violin under the touch of a virtuoso, tremble -in unison with the harmony that flows from the living melodion of his -queen, until his soul is on fire with melody. Not one of these delicately -attuned ears ever seems to be shocked by a falsetto note from the vocal -chords of his charmer. To him her song, like that of Wynomoinen, the -magical singer, or the sirens of mythical story, is full of the power of -enchantment; and the eavesdroppers of science who watch him and listen, -tell us that he draws near her whenever she pours out her soul in song. -The manner in which she produces her buzzing tones is very wonderful: The -lower or contralto note is the result of the rapid vibration of her wings -at the rate of three thousand per minute. It is not remarkable, then, -that her flight is so swift from her enraged human pursuer. But when -she trills and yodles and sings her high soprano, her fantastic music -flows from stridulating organs which resemble tiny drums at the openings -of minute air tubes. These higher runs thrill Monsignor Mosquito into -ecstacies of pure delight. His ravished soul is borne out upon the silver -sea of song as he sits on a honeysuckle sipping nectar, listening the -while to the wooing voices of his divine inamoratas—the Pattis, Nilssons -and Nordicas of his race. But not so with the human auditor of the -mosquito prima donna who lies peacefully on his bed at night under the -hypnotic spell of sweet sleep. Perchance it is midnight’s holy hour when -he is suddenly awakened by a still small voice more pricking than the -voice of conscience. He springs up and lights the gas or lamp and tries -to draw nigh unto lady mosquito as did her enchanted knight with wings; -he is thirsting for her life while she is thirsting for his blood. - -But not only is our heroine celebrated in history as a warrior and a -vocalist, but as a most dangerous enemy of mankind. Nature has seen fit -to give her a long nose, or proboscis, which, according to the Darwinian -theory, might prove her to be related to the elephant. She does not -hesitate “to stick her nose into other people’s business,” and this is -precisely the thing which, in the case of mosquitoes as of men, leads -her into irreparable injury to humanity and very frequently to her own -instant demise. - -Those versed in the origin and evolution of the Culex (a nickname for -the mosquito) teach us that his ancient grandmothers did not have the -blood-sucking habit, but acquired it in later ages. Whether in acquiring -this habit she was beset, like Mother Eve in Eden, by the power of a -mighty temptation through the wily arts of his Satanic majesty, we are -unable to say with certainty; but we are informed by her anatomists that -alongside her formidable proboscis with its suction pump fixtures, are -from two to six keen lances or spears, admirably adapted for making the -necessary incisions in the skin of man and beast. Armed with such weapons -for drawing blood, it is easy to guess how, during some of her nightly -wanderings as a minstrel, temptation might have won an easy victory -over her by giving her a taste of blood. It is probable that while on -one of these lonely serenades she became enamored of some sleeping -Apollo, and, stooping down to snatch a sweet warm kiss from his lordly -brow, accidentally stuck her bill through the rosy cuticle and drew -blood—taking another sip she said it was good, and thus she contracted -the blood-sucking habit. - -It is interesting to note that as with many other nations of the air so -with this one, there is a sort of national anthem to which the Culex -patriots seem more devotedly attached than human patriots are to theirs. -Its divine strain, to the chivalrous male, is the very keynote of love, -and he is charmed by its resistless power and drawn toward it as a beetle -to a beacon light, or a boat to a whirlpool; for when its clarion note is -sounded, like the weird, wild melody of Orpheus of old that thrilled dumb -brutes and drew them in myriads around him, he is caught up and borne -onward by its powerful pull to the spot whence the music comes. - -While experimenting with harmonic telegraphy, a scientist of the South -who resides at Jackson, Miss., happened to strike this key, and he -reports that the mosquito came toward the “sounder” in great swarms. He -soon afterwards devised a machine for electrocuting every mosquito that -should respond to the magical note. Upon the very first trial they came -teeming to the “sounder,” and when he turned on the electric current by -pressing a button, they fell dead by the scores at his feet. - -What a boon to humanity this novel application of electricity is -destined to be. With such an instrument having a “sounder” attached, -the disturbed sleeper of the future, who is not overly fond of mosquito -song, can touch a button, by his bedside, to set the “sounder” to going, -and then press another button to turn on the deadly current, and thus -instantly electrocute every mosquito that disturbs his slumbers without -ever moving from his pillow. Now, it has been urged by some that only -the male mosquitoes will answer to the note made by the “sounder,” and -thus only they would suffer death by the device. But this is by no means -established, and even if shown to be true, it is evident that upon the -males being thus dispatched the females would soon all withdraw or pine -away with grief. - -How vastly different and superior is the male Culex to the female from -an ethical standpoint. He is opposed to war and is a harmless vegetarian -and honey-sucker, while the female is a dangerous savage. He does not -find his happiness in sucking the blood of his human or other neighbor, -but in the contemplation of the beautiful. He may well be called the poet -of his race; for he ever lives among the nectar drips and the paradises -of color and perfume of the waiting flowers. He soars aloft into the -sweeter, purer air to bathe his pinions in seas of radiant sunshine. He -roams among the beauties of nature, seeking its sweets from every bud and -leaf. All thoughts that flit across his microscopic brain are free from -blood and war. He loves the beautiful wherever he finds it in the visible -and tangible world and even in the fascinating buzz of his mosquito -prima donna. But as ideally good as he seems to be, he, like man, has -his faults and frailties. He is fond of travel and has been caught with -many of his female companions stealing long rides on Pullman palace -cars and ocean steamers. He is also very fond of beer, wine and whisky, -and has been found “dead drunk” on sundry occasions. In this taste for -intoxicants the female Culex does not indulge. - -The mosquito has been recently charged with murder, arrested and brought -to trial before a competent tribunal composed of medical men and others, -and convicted. They have proved that his spouse is the principal and -he the accomplice. The evidence shows that they belong to a family of -mosquitoes, known by the infamous name of _Anopheles_, and they have -used malaria, yellow fever and several other diseases with which to slay -man; that the female is the entertainer of a very small creature, a kind -of Jonah, whom she swallows, and after a time he gets down from her -stomach into her proboscis, and when she bites her human victim he leaps -into the wound where he remains and eats red-blood corpuscles, and when -grown he breaks up into from six to ten pieces, each piece making a new -animal life like the original; that they go on multiplying in this way -into millions in the blood upon which they feast, and thus produce these -dreadful maladies and consequent death. - - WATAUGA. - - - - -[Illustration] - - BOOKS AND AUTHORS - - CONDUCTED BY GENELLA FITZGERALD NYE. - - - PRISON LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS. By Bvt. Lt. Col. John J. Craven, - M.D. G. W. Dillingham Company, New York. Price, $1.20. - -The recent controversy concerning General Miles and the shackling of -Jefferson Davis while the latter was a prisoner of war at Fortress -Monroe, makes this new edition of Dr. Craven’s book, originally published -in 1866, of timely value and importance. Dr. Craven was the medical -adviser of Mr. Davis during most of his imprisonment, and his notes, -taken from daily and intimate intercourse with his patient, form the -basis of this volume. While written with professional reserve and -military discretion, it is a most satisfactory and reliable account -of the facts concerning the imprisonment of Mr. Davis, and throws an -interesting and significant light on his character as viewed on close -range by a political enemy at a time when prejudice and passion so -generally usurped the place of judgment. Dr. Craven frankly expresses -his original prejudiced and bitter attitude toward his patient, even to -naming the precise occasion on which a kindlier sentiment was aroused -in his breast. A stronger, sincerer tribute to Mr. Davis’ character -could hardly be conceived than this plain and unadorned record of -the change effected in the attitude of an honest enemy toward the -man whom he abhorred as a kind of moral monster. Dr. Craven was not -only impressed with the learning and ability of his distinguished -prisoner, but again and again bears impartial witness to his modesty, -fortitude, and unselfishness, relating conversations and incidents which -particularly impressed him at the time. The strength of that impression -is sufficiently evinced by the fact that Dr. Craven had the courage to -publish such a book at a time when sectional feeling ran so high. - -The facts in regard to the shameful treatment of Mr. Davis by General -Miles are fully confirmed by copies of the official reports bearing on -the matter, and the account is a painful commentary on the injustice and -cruelty of the policy allowed to rule in regard to a conquered people. -Mr. Davis was sick and feeble; moreover, he was closely guarded night and -day, in an impregnable fortress. Under the circumstances his shackling -was a wanton and unnecessary humiliation of a helpless man, and the -bare relation of the incident as witnessed by Dr. Craven, though set -down without comment or criticism, is enough to make the blood of any -generous reader boil with indignation and revolt. It is impossible to -doubt the honesty and accuracy of such a record, and it must remain a -heavy indictment against those responsible for the outrage here detailed. -Dr. Craven’s son, who republishes this book, is fully justified in so -doing, not only for the satisfaction of a present interest, but for the -consideration of future generations. - - - THE MARRIAGE OF WILLIAM ASHE. By Mrs. Humphrey Ward. Harper and - Brothers, New York. Price, $1.50. - -Mrs. Ward in her latest novel works very much the same combination which -proved to so exactly fit the public taste in “Lady Rose’s Daughter,” -and if the result is not the same success, it will be only because the -popular impression will be dulled by repetition. Again we have a heroine -nurtured in a scandalous menage in Paris and shadowed by a criminal -heredity, and Lady Kitty, like Julie in the earlier novel, has two -lovers, contrasted in character much as were Delafield and the caddish -young soldier to whom Julie so nearly yielded. The crucial moment of -temptation, however, comes to Lady Kitty after her marriage, and the -hand of fate which snatched Julie from danger plunges the later heroine -into the abyss of ruin and disgrace. William Ashe, like Marchmont, is -of a noble house and high in political circles, but he is not quite so -much of an archangel, though he, too, exhibits a patient and tolerant -forbearance toward the indiscretions and errors of the woman he loves, -which, however philosophical, somewhat removes him from the normal human -type and its sympathies. Geoffrey Cliffe, the objectionable lover, is -a poet instead of a soldier, but he, too, woos Kitty to disgrace and -finally meets a violent death. Both novels are elaborate studies of -heredity, and in each the final decision between irretrievable error and -duty hangs upon an unforeseen incident which turns the scales like a fate. - -Again Mrs. Ward has drawn on real life for her characters and plot. The -Byronic inspiration of Geoffrey Cliffe is sufficiently obvious and the -suggestion of Lady Caroline Lamb’s story is plainly to be read in Lady -Kitty and her obsession. More than one prominent political figure of a -generation ago has been promptly identified by the English reviewers. - -Of the two heroines, Lady Kitty is a better realization than Julie, who, -to our mind quite failed to keep the novelist’s promise of intellectual -brilliancy and social magnetism. It is really a wonderful and poignant -impression conveyed by Mrs. Ward’s elaborate picture of Lady Kitty, -frail and fair, passionate and weak, poetic and frivolous, sweet and -perverse—with a lack of moral and mental balance which spells for us -nothing less than insanity. For after all, we are disposed to question -whether such a character is not properly a study in alienism rather than -in feminine psychology. That she was not a responsible agent, but merely -the unfortunate creature of her own impelling fancies and passions, -is the view stressed by every implication of the author, and indeed, -against the very shady record of Lady Kitty’s life can only be pleaded -temperamental insanity and hereditary sin. - -An equally elaborate, but not so successful, piece of work is the -presentation of William Ashe. He is depicted as a kind of Admirable -Crichton—handsome, learned, amiable—a scholar, a statesman, and a social -lion. “Religiously he was a skeptic, enormously interested in religion. -Politically he was an aristocrat, enormously interested in liberty.” -But with all the author’s keen analysis and clever descriptive phrases, -this versatile and philosophical hero never becomes very real to our -perceptions or sympathies. It would seem that his creator had fashioned -and molded him carefully and perfectly, but had failed to breathe into -him the breath of life. - -Mrs. Ward’s rich literary equipment is no less manifest in this novel -than in her previous works, and her power to deal with the larger -interests of life is undiminished. The old time English society novel -in her hands has been expanded, dignified, transformed, into a serious -and significant presentation of life and its problems. Her outlook on -the world of thought, of affairs, and of men and women is technically -informed and philosophically impartial; her talent is enormously -efficient. Perhaps her remarkable ability was never better demonstrated -than when she made in “Lady Rose’s Daughter” a deliberate bid for a -wider and lower kind of popular favor. The new appeal, so marked in that -book and in “The Marriage of William Ashe,” was so skilfully turned and -has been so successful in enlarging the writer’s clientele, that as a -literary _tour de force_, it challenges a kind of unwilling admiration. -There seem to be lacking to her marvelous gifts and powers only the touch -of spontaneity, the flash of dramatic fire. - - - THE GEORGIANS. By Will N. Harben, author of “Abner Daniel,” “The - Substitute,” etc. New York: Harper and Brother. Price, $1.50. - -The plain people of the South, the sturdy common folk who made no -pretensions to aristocratic grandeur but who in self-respect, prosperity -and character, formed in this section, as elsewhere, the backbone of -civilization and society, have not received their due representation in -Southern fiction, generally speaking. Baronial splendors, “po’ white -trash” peculiarities, and darky picturesqueness have been the favored -themes of most Southern story-tellers, moving in the lines of least -resistance to romantic and dramatic interest, while the great middle -class has been made to occupy a disproportionately small place in their -pictures of Southern life. It is not mere accident that the Georgia -writers have given us the fullest and best treatment of this class, for -in Georgia pre-eminently it dominated and colored the political and -social body to a marked degree. Richard Malcolm Johnson, Joel Chandler -Harris, and Watson have all given us stories with a strong flavor of the -soil and the people who chiefly owned and cultivated it, and Mr. Harben’s -tales of north Georgia have been notably successful in this line of -fiction. - -In “Abner Daniel,” Mr. Harben achieved one of the rarest things in modern -fiction—a genuine creation. Typically, sympathetically, imaginatively, -Abner Daniel rings true; in spirit and letter he is a perfect -presentation. Broadly human as he is unmistakably North Georgian, he may -be described as a Southern David Harum; but of the two characters Abner -Daniel seems to us far more vital, far less dependent on his make-up and -gags for reality. In “The Georgians,” Abner reappears, this time as the -_deus ex machina_ of a mysterious murder case, involving the love affair -and various other interests of the story. The little village of Darley -is sketched faithfully and sympathetically, and it is peopled with folk, -whom we either know, or instinctively recognize as real. Under the not -very deceptive alias of Tom P. Smith, Mr. Harben pictures a certain noted -evangelist of Georgia and his revivalist methods, while as a companion -piece he presents Jack Bantram, of another ecclesiastical type, who makes -a simple and direct appeal to conscience and manhood. The religious -ideals and customs of such communities have never received fuller or more -sympathetic treatment than in this story, and, indeed, we may find here -in simple, but effective narration, a most truthful picture of plain, -provincial Georgia life in all its phases and forms. Among the real -historical novels—those which are recording the vanishing social history -of our nation—“The Georgians” deserves place and consideration. - - - MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN. By E. Phillips Oppenheim, Author of “A - Prince of Sinners,” “Anna, the Adventuress,” etc. Boston: - Little, Brown and Company. Price, $1.50. - -A most remarkable as well as mysterious individual is the villain of -Mr. Oppenheim’s latest yarn. He appears in London with a beautiful girl -who turns all the men’s heads and inspires young Lord Wolfenden with a -sudden and serious passion. By a curious coincidence this young man’s -father is a retired admiral, with a mania for writing up the coast -defenses of England, while Mr. Sabin’s mission in England is to get -possession of these papers to sell to the German Emperor. A political -intrigue is involved, in which Mr. Sabin, as agent for the French -Bourbons, has conceived the brilliant scheme of buying Germany’s aid with -naval secrets of England, fully set forth in the maps and notes of the -naval monomaniac. The success of these plans would be followed by war -between England and Germany, and the coronation of Princess Helene—the -mysterious young lady, of course—as Queen of France. There are all sorts -of complications and sensational happenings, and just as things begin to -look rather dark for the lovers and the peace of England, a nihilistic -order checks Mr. Sabin’s operations and crushes his hopes and ambitions. -This winds up the troubles of Wolfenden and his Princess, and prefaces -the most remarkable and exciting adventures of Mr. Sabin as he flees -incognito to America to escape the wrath of the disappointed war lord -of Germany. Greatly to the reader’s relief, this most engaging villain -arrives safely in Boston Harbor and we leave him settling down to a -peaceful obscurity with his first love, to whom his bitterest enemy had -rather inconsequentially directed him before he left England. - -To the critical eye, the machinery of Mr. Oppenheim’s story is somewhat -too evident, and occasionally it rattles and creaks, but it goes at -a rapid rate, and the result is just what is intended—an interesting -and exciting story, to be read with easy and pleasurable interest and -forgotten immediately. - - - THE MONKS’ TREASURE. By George Horton, Author of “Like Another - Helen.” Indianapolis: The Bobbs-Merrill Company. Price, $1.50. - -Walter Lythgoe, the nephew of Erasmus Lythgoe, head of the great Lythgoe -Baking Powder, is sent by the firm to Greece to lay in a supply of crude -cream of tartar, and is dispatched on his errand with the admonition, -“Keep out of all scrapes and complications with women.” Naturally -the first thing done by the young man as he arrives on the island of -Andros is to fall in love with a fair maiden and to immediately involve -himself in the most gratuitous scrapes and astounding complications -ever concocted for a novel hero to wriggle out of. Of course the fair -maiden whom he loves so artlessly and chivalrously as the servant of -the missionary turns out to be a duchess, and equally, of course, -the treasure discovered by Walter and his friend in the vault of the -monastery is her stolen patrimony. Walter conceives the brilliant scheme -of carrying off the bags of gold, and after a series of incredible -adventures, in which he and his Scotch crony pit their wits and courage -against a jealous Greek lover and some murderous monks, the hero sails -out triumphant from the island of Andros with his lady love and a trunk -full of treasure. - -The local coloring of the story is confined to the adjectives “rosy” and -“purple,” sprinkled plentifully throughout the book, and despite the -often stressed conjunction with the “amphora,” the beautiful Polyxene -seems not widely differentiated from any unsophisticated heroine of more -familiar climes. In fact, Mr. Horton has not succeeded in galvanizing a -very mechanical series of adventures into real vitality by transporting -his puppets and wheels to Greece. - - - THE RIVER’S CHILDREN: An Idyl of the Mississippi. By Ruth McEnery - Stuart. New York: The Century Co. - -In her “Sonny” stories Mrs. Stuart struck the note of original and homely -humor to which the popular taste is so quick to respond and for that -reason achieved therein her greatest success, but her tales of Creoles -and negroes in the Lower Mississippi region have distinctive merit in -their vivid and poetic pictures of the great river and its children. To -her imagination the Mississippi is not the Father of Waters, but “Old -Lady Mississippi,” a witch, a siren, a queen—to fear, to propitiate, and -to worship, and to the strength of this conception “The River’s Children” -bears striking testimony. The slender thread of story runs almost unnoted -among the poetic and picturesque descriptions of the river and the quaint -and charming patois of the river people. The great stream sweeps supreme -through the book, its poetry, beauty and tragedy looming up larger upon -our impression than the magnificence of the Le Ducs or the rather highly -colored sketches of Israel and Hannah. Wonderful is the account of Brake -Island in its days of fatness culminating in the glories of the famous -house-party long ago; and a clever bit of reproduction, at once keen and -kindly, is the talk of “Felix” and “Adolphe” on the peril of the rising -waters. Not even Cable has caught more perfectly the foreign idiom and -softened English of these foreign Americans, or their pleasure-loving, -childlike temperament. - -Mrs. Stuart’s imagination and poetry, like her beloved river, sometimes -overflow unhappily, as may be noted in some of the talk between Uncle -Israel and Mammy Hannah, where instead of the flash of poetic imagery so -characteristic of the negro, Mrs. Stuart gives us sustained and elaborate -rhetoric and sentiment. To our perception, too, the story should have -ended with the death of the old negro couple, and what follows seems a -decline to an anti-climax. - -Mrs. Stuart is fully imbued with the traditions of the lordly, lavish -life of the old Creole days, and she knows and loves the land of the -Lower Mississippi. The result has been seen in some charming and vivid -sketches of which “The River’s Children” ranks among her best. - - - RETURN: a Story of the Sea Islanders in 1739. By Alice MacGowan - and Grace MacGowan Cooke. L. C. Page and Company, Boston. - Price, $1.50. - -This is an extremely hollow piece of literary labor, with seemingly no -other inspiration than Mary Johnson’s romances. There is no atmosphere -wherefrom incident or characters could draw any vital semblance, and the -style is the thinnest and stalest decoction of Miss Johnson’s manner and -diction. It is to be hoped that the writers will once for all forswear -the field of colonial history and romance, and return to their own—the -life they know and can describe so well in Texas and Tennessee. - - - - - THE FIDDLE AND THE BOW. - - By Robert L. Taylor. - - - PART SECOND. - -What is this life but a whirling tide of pleasure and pain—glowing with -gladness, darkening with grief, leaping with rapture, eddying with tears, -now kissing the smiling cliffs of hope, now dashing against the frowning -crags of fear and then vanishing in the darkness! What would it all be -worth to us unblessed by love and mercy and the milk of human kindness? -What would it all be worth to us bereft of music, that noblest gift of -the soul? - -The spirit of music, like an archangel, presides over mankind and the -visible creation. Her afflatus, divinely sweet, divinely powerful, is -breathed on every heart and inspires every soul to some higher thought, -some grander sentiment. - -I heard a great master play on his wondrous violin. His bow quivered -like the wing of a bird. In every quiver there was a melody, and every -melody breathed a thought in language sweeter than was ever uttered by -human tongue. I was conjured, I was mesmerized by his music. I thought -I fell asleep under its power and was rapt into the realms of visions -and dreams. The enchanted violin broke out in tumult, and in its music I -thought I heard the rustle of a thousand joyous wings and the burst of -song from a thousand joyous throats; mocking-birds and linnets thrilled -the glad air with warblings; goldfinches, thrushes and bobolinks trilled -their happiest tunes and the oriole sang a lullaby to her hanging cradle -that rocked in the wind. I heard the twitter of skimming swallows, the -scattered coveys’ piping call. I heard the robin’s gay whistle, the -cawing of crows, the scolding of blue-jays and the melancholy cooing of a -dove. The swaying tree tops seemed vocal with bird song while he played, -and the labyrinths of leafy shade echoed back the chorus. - -There was a shifting of the bow, and I heard a flute play and a harp and -a golden-mouthed cornet. I heard the mirthful babble of happy voices -and peals of laughter ringing in the swelling tide of pleasure. Then I -thought I caught glimpses of snowy arms, voluptuous forms and light, -fantastic slippered feet all whirling in the mazes of the misty dance. -The flying fingers now tripped upon the trembling strings like fairy -feet dancing on the nodding violets, and the music glided into a still -sweeter strain. The violin told a story of human life: Two lovers strayed -among the elms and oaks and down by the river side where daffodils and -pansies bend and smile to rippling waves, and there, under the bloom -of incense-breathing bowers, the old, old story—so old and yet so new, -conceived in heaven, first told in Eden, then handed down through all the -ages,—was told over and over again. Ah! those downward drooping eyes, -that mantling blush, that trembling hand in meek submission pressed! How -well they told of love’s victory won and Paradise regained! And then he -swung her in a grape-vine swing: - - “Swinging in the grape-vine swing, - Laughing where the wild birds sing - I dream and sigh - For the days gone by, - Swinging in the grape-vine swing!” - -But the violin laughed like a child and my dream changed again. I saw a -cottage among the elms and oaks and a little curly head toddled at the -door. He toddled under the trees, prattling to the birds and playing -with the ripening apples that fell upon the ground. He toddled among the -roses and plucked their leaves as he would have plucked an angel’s wing, -strewing their glory upon the green grass at his feet. He chased the -butterflies from flower to flower and shouted with glee as they eluded -his grasp and sailed away on the summer air. Here I thought his childish -fancy had built a Paradise and peopled it with dainty seraphim and made -himself its Adam. He saw the sunlight of Eden glint on every leaf and -beam in every petal. The flitting honey bee, the whirling June bug, the -fluttering breeze, the silvery pulse beat of the dashing brook, sounded -in his ears notes of its swelling music. The iris-winged humming bird -darting like a sunbeam to kiss the pouting lips of the upturned flowers -was to him the impersonation of its beauty. And I said, truly childhood -is the nearest approach in this world to the Paradise of long ago. Then -I saw him skulking like a Cupid in the shrubbery, his face downcast with -guilt, his skirts bedraggled and soiled. He had waded the Atlantic ocean -in the mud puddle, and stirred up the Mediterranean sea in the slop -bucket. He had shipwrecked the young ducks, capsized the goslings, and -drowned the kitten, which he imagined a whale. And I said, there is the -old original Adam coming to the surface. - -“Lawd bless my soul, jis look at dat chil’! Look at dat face and dem -hands, all kivered wid mud and mulberry juice! You’s gwine to ketch -it! Jis ’zactly like your fadder,—always gittin’ into some scrape or -nudder—always breakin’ into some kind uv debilment! Gwine to brek into -Congress some uv dese days, sho! Dey can’t keep you out’n it! Come -along wid me dis instinct to de baf tub! I’se gwine to wash dat face uv -yown an’ lucidate some uv dat dirt off’n dem han’s an’ dem clo’es, you -triflin’ rascal, you!” and so saying she carried him away kicking and -screaming like a young savage in open rebellion. - -And I said, there is some more of the original Adam. Then I saw him come -forth again, washed and dressed in spotless white like a young butterfly -fresh from its chrysalis, and when he got a chance, I saw him slip on -his tiptoes into the pantry, and there was the clink of glassware as -though a mouse was playing there among the jam pots and preserves. There -two little dimpled hands made trip after trip to a rose-colored mouth, -bearing burdens of mingling sweets that dripped from cheek and chin and -skirt and shoes, subduing the snowy white with the amber of the peach and -the purple of the raspberry as he ate of the forbidden fruit. Then I saw -him glide into the library and soon there was a crash and a thud in there -which brought a frightened mother into the room only to find the young -rascal catching his breath while streams of cold ink trickled down his -drenched bosom. And as he wiped his inky face, which grew blacker with -every wipe, the remainder of the ink was pouring from the bottle onto the -carpet and making a map of darkest Africa. Then the rear of a small skirt -went up over a curly head and the avenging slipper in lightning strokes -kept time to the music in the air. And I said, there is Paradise lost! -The sympathizing, half angry old nurse bore her weeping, sobbing charge -to the nursery and bound up his broken heart, and soothed him to sleep -with her old-time lullaby: - - O, don’t you cry, little baby; don’t you cry no mo’, - For it hurts ole mammy’s feelin’s for to hear you weepin’ so! - Why do dey bring temptation to de little hands and feet? - What makes ’em ’buse de baby, kase de jam and ’zarves am sweet? - - O, de sorrows, triberlations, dat de joys of mortals break; - O, it’s heaven when we slumber, it’s trouble when we wake! - - O, go to sleep, my darlin’, now close dem little eyes - And dream uv de shinin’ angels an’ de blessed Paradise; - O, dream uv de blood red roses and de birds on snowy wing, - O, dream uv de fallin’ waters and de nebber endin’ spring! - - O de roses, O de rainbows! O de music’s gentle swell! - In de dreamland uv little children whar de blessed spirits dwell. - -“Dar now, dar now, he’s gone! Bless its little heart! Dey treats it like -a dog. Ole black mammy’s de best friend de chile’s got in de world!” And -then she tucked him away in the Paradise of his childish slumbers. - -[_To be continued._] - - - - - SOUTHERN - PLATFORM - DEPARTMENT - - _Devoted to the interest_ - _of_ - _The Lyceum of The South._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration: Southern Platform] - - - The Humorous, the Pathetic and the Dramatic. - -These are the ruling elements of the platform. Around them are built all -the successes of the Lyceum, and the lack of them is responsible for all -the failures that stand like tombstones, along the route, as we journey -with the truly great. - -We are all agreed on the efficacy of humor, and we join without dissent -in lauding the man who has the power to make the world laugh. He is as -much our benefactor as the man whose scholarly and laborious research -solves for us some great scientific problem which sets civilization -forward; for, does he not unlock for us the gates of mirth, and climax a -day of toil with an hour of restful merriment? His side-splitting joke -pays the Doctor’s bill in advance by keeping us well and hearty; it -settles pro tem. the grocer’s bill by making us forget it. His clever -story charms and fascinates us, and we follow him down sunny lanes of -laughter, and through sighing groves of pathos until the cares and -vexations of our busy lives recede from us like a troubled shore. With -the God-like power of genius, he leads us out of the thorn-hedged paths -of everyday life, into the happy garden of the ideal where the flowers -of sentiment bloom perennial, and the song of every bird is a lilted -fragment of the universal chorus of love. This magic garden on the margin -of the dusty field of reality from which we dig our daily bread, is an -oasis to which we may not long repair, but to linger for an hour rests us -from toil and refreshes us for labor. From behind its roses no venomous -serpent is privileged to strike, and from its peaceful skies no hurricane -may swoop down to lay waste. ’Tis there that the eye of despair is -kindled with hope, the brow of care is smoothed with forgetfulness, and -the lips of melancholy are curled with a smile. - -All hail to the man of humor and pathos! (He cannot possess one without -possessing the other.) Pathos is but the gentle sister of humor. Her -emotions have no kinship with sorrow; her tears are the trembling jewels -of tender memories, and she has only to dry her eyes to disclose a smile. - -Next to humor and pathos, the most important requisite to a successful -career on the platform, is the dramatic element which enables a man to -“suit the action to the word,” and by the subtle power of the actor’s -art, bring us to worship or despise, at his will, the character he -portrays, or the principle he advocates. We hang at highest tension on -the words of such a man, when the same words spoken in a commonplace way, -would send us to sleep in our seats. How often have we seen the beauty of -the Lord’s Prayer marred by some guttural-voiced exhorter who delivered -it as coldly as he would have read a report of the mule market, or the -price of pumpkins! and yet it is said that the great Booth with his -incomparable rendition of this sacred prayer could lead an audience into -the very presence and smile of God. Since time began, the dramatic in art -and literature has received the homage of all people and all nations. -This love of the dramatic sits enthroned alike in the heart of the savage -and the man of letters, the highwayman and the clergyman, the ignoramus -and the intellectual Titan. This strange attribute in the make-up of -humanity is at once a dangerous and a glorious element. Too often it -has nerved the murderer’s hand and steeled the heart of cruelty, but -civilization is the master which is taming it. - -In the long gone ages of heartless kings and fawning subjects, when -fierce gladiators met in the death struggle, and the cruel ruler and his -multitudes cheered the ending of a human life, they were but satiating -their unholy love of the dramatic. Before such a picture, the great -common heart of to-day turns sick with horror, but there is another -picture dimmed also with many centuries, which makes the blood leap with -different emotions, and which the future will guard with jealous pride. -It is the dramatic picture of a little band of Christians in the center -of a vast arena, awaiting the approach of the wild beasts which are to -tear their limbs apart, and quietly kneeling in their last prayer. The -dramatic effect of that prayer sent a thrill through all the ages, and -nerved the hearts of the millions who were to follow the martyrs, as no -common incident could have done. - -We worship tragedy, and find satisfaction only in thrilling climaxes, and -out of the multitudes of the passing years, history hands us the names of -only a few who have paid the price of deathless fame. The tragic death of -Julius Cæsar magnified his mighty deeds a hundred fold, and the dramatic -but inglorious climax of St. Helena sent the great Napoleon thundering -into history. - -[Illustration: - - GUY CARLTON LEE, PH.D., LL.D. - - Dr. Guy Carlton Lee, Literary Editor of the Baltimore _Sun_, - and formerly of the faculties of Johns Hopkins and Columbia - Universities, is the latest acquisition of the platform among - the strong literary men of to-day. He is the most distinguished - of our younger school of historians, and as an orator he - belongs to the vigorous, dramatic type so ably represented by - Wendling and Gunsaulus, who have long been familiar figures - on the American platform. Dr. Lee’s first lecture tour will - include the South the coming season, under the direction of The - Rice Bureau of Nashville. -] - - - The Mysteries - - By James Hunt Cook - -The early sunlight filtered through the filmy draperies to where a -wondering baby stretched his dimpled hands to catch the rays that lit his -face and flesh like dawn lights up a rose. His startled gaze caught and -held the dawn of day in rapturous looks that spoke the dawn of Self, for -with the morning gleam out came the greater wonder. It was the mystery of -Life. - -Across a cradle where, sunk in satin pillows, lay a still, pale form as -droops a rose from some fierce heat, the evening shadows aslant, and -spoke of peace. The twilight calm enclosed the world in silence deep as -Truth, and on the little face the wondering look had given place to one -of sweet repose. It was the mystery Death. - -At head and foot the tapers burned, a golden light that clove the night -as Hope the encircling gloom. Across the cot where lay the fair, frail -form, his hand reached out to hers and met and clasped in tender burning -touch. Into the eyes of each there came the look that is the light of -life; that spoke of self to each, yet told they two were one. It was the -mystery to which the mysteries, Life and Death, bow down—the mystery of -Love. - - - Thomas Jefferson and the Average Man. - - [Extract from lecture of Dana C. Johnson on “Thomas Jefferson.”] - -The epitaph on the monument of Thomas Jefferson, written by himself, -reads thus: - - HERE WAS BURIED - THOMAS JEFFERSON - AUTHOR OF - The Declaration of American Independence, - of the Statute of Virginia for Religious - Freedom and Father of - the University of - Virginia. - -These three deeds he doubtless regarded as the greatest of his life. But -the real greatness of Thomas Jefferson, and his value to his country, -cannot be comprehended in any recital of specific deeds. His influence -is of a broader scope and flows in a deeper current. He stood for a -principle which to-day constitutes the very bulwark of this nation, and -is not only her strength but her pride. That principle is the right of -every citizen to have a part in the government of the nation—to direct -its policy—to be responsible for its errors—to share in its triumphs. - -Thomas Jefferson recognized the value and stood for the rights of the -average man, in a time when those rights were in great jeopardy. In this -he displayed his characteristic political foresight, for the average man -is the backbone of the nation. He has achieved the triumphs of her past -and holds the key to her future destiny. - -In my mind’s eye I scan the history of our nation as one might view a -panorama. - -I see a company of stern-faced men land on the bleak New England shore -and kneel in prayer upon a rocky beach. They have crossed a stormy ocean -to engage in the hard task of establishing a colony in the New World, -where they may worship God as they desire—the earnest, stalwart, heroic -Pilgrim Fathers. But who are they? Average men. - -Yonder is a company of men standing at Concord Bridge awaiting the -advance of British regulars. They fight and some fall in the battle and -by that sacrifice become immortal—the first martyrs to American liberty. -Who are they? Volunteer soldiers—farmers and tradesmen—average men of the -community. - -I see a caravan of crude and picturesque conveyances wending their way -across the Western plains—each wagon containing a family of pioneers—the -advance-guard of civilization—enduring hardships and performing mighty -labors of which we reap the benefits. Who are they? Average men and women. - -Here are two armies drawn up in battle order—hundreds of thousands -of young and valiant men; fighting for what they regard their rights -and duties; suffering unspeakable privations and performing deeds of -matchless valor—the army of the North and the army of the South—whose -conflict demonstrated to the world the extraordinary resources of this -nation, the exceptional qualities of the American soldier and the -absolutely unconquerable strength of a united country. Who are these -soldiers? Fathers and sons from farm and store and factory. Average men. - -I see a half-dozen regiments charging a Cuban hillside to dislodge a -fortified enemy—strong, alert, confident soldiers—their courage born of -the consciousness that they are fighting for right and justice against -wrong and oppression. Who are they? A strange conglomeration of militia -men, regular army soldiers, nabobs from New York, rough riders from the -plains—but all of them average men. - -So through all the years of our nation’s history, in the hours of her -peril and of her achievements, she has been saved from shame and has been -crowned with glory by the deeds of her average men. - -Great men have arisen from time to time to lead her armies into battle -or to defend her principles of liberty and justice, but, after all, -these leaders had been powerless and, indeed, impossible except for the -rank and file—the host of average men, who followed them and put into -effect their teaching; not as slaves, but as free men doing their duty as -intellect and conscience had directed. - -Who is it that will determine the future policy of this nation and -write success or failure above her gates? Not her millionaires, nor her -statesmen, nor her scholars, nor her soldiers, but the average men whose -votes count millions in the aggregate and whose will is law. - -Thomas Jefferson understood this and read the future with unerring mind. -Therefore he made it his chief concern and his great political work to -protect the rights and enlarge the privileges of the average man—the bone -and sinew of the state. - -[Illustration: - - HON. ALF TAYLOR, - - One of the most eloquent and scholarly contributions to the - intellectual menu of the coming season will be the new lecture - of Hon. Alf Taylor, “If Columbus Should Wake.” -] - -[Illustration: - - SAMUEL SIEGEL. - - Samuel Siegel, the great mandolinist, who is known to more people - than any other player of this instrument, is very popular - throughout the South. He is the originator of the system used - by the Siegel-Myers Correspondence School of Music, and is - also exclusive mandolinist for the Edison, Victor and Columbia - Phonograph Companies. Mr. Siegel will tour the South next season - at the head of the Siegel-Meyer-Reed Concert Company. -] - - - The Lyceum Platform. - - By Dr. James Hedley. - -The Lyceum Platform is one of the world’s evangels. It has its teachers, -heroes, apostles and prophets. It has had a wonderful history, and is -still making history. It is a marvellous power for intellectual, social -and moral good, and never more so than to-day. Its lecturers are strong -not only in their ability to entertain, but in all those attributes which -make for the best in human character. It goes without saying that such -men come to the people with a message. Whether it be Watterson or Graves, -or De Motte, or Conwell or Wendling, or Willitts; whether Dolliver, -Gunsaulus, Hillis, Miller, Bain, McIntyre, McClary, or delightful Bob -Taylor, the minds, hearts and consciences of men are turned in the -direction of right things, and there is an impetus and an uplift which -blesses all who hear. - -How wide the influence, and how great the responsibility of the lyceum -lecturer! In a general way, at least, all men concede the power of -oratory. The close student of the sources of human influence fully -recognizes that power, in all its good and evil possibilities. Eloquently -spoken words produce more immediate and fully as permanent results as -eloquently written ones. When Demosthenes delivered a patriotic oration, -the people who heard him said at once, “Let us go and fight Philip!” -A little child after listening to George Whitefield’s beautiful and -impassioned pictures of Heaven and the Deity, sobbed, “Let me go to Mr. -Whitefield’s God!” There are hundreds in our country to-day who are what -they are, not only in the success and happiness of their own lives, but -as factors toward the wise solution of the profoundest problems of being -because of the spoken words, the messages of the present-day lyceum. - -The Lyceum Platform thirty and forty years ago could boast of a score -of thinkers, some of whom were orators; they served well their day and -generation; products of the “form and pressure of the time,” they met -its requirements, and left behind them evidences of work nobly done, and -no man can say the memory of them shall perish. In far greater measure, -because of the infinitely greater number of superior lecturers, the -common people to-day are being educated in every phase of thought and -purpose worthy earnest consideration. When one considers all this, the -faint cry occasionally heard from those who do not take wide views of -existing conditions, as to the “decay of the lyceum” is not warranted. -Wherever and whenever the true lyceum idea is conserved in the work of -the platform, the evidences of strength, wisdom and beauty are at once -evident and undeniable. - -Since the earlier days, the Lyceum has taken on an entertainment phase, -which, while not wholly related to the lyceum idea, serves admirably -in meeting and filling the desire there is and ever will be in the -human heart for the joyous pleasures of life. The entertainment side -of the Lyceum belongs to the realm of the heart paramountly, if not -wholly, while the work of the lecturer appeals to the intellect and -the conscience, and so the “three thirds” which make men up—the Mind, -the Heart and the Conscience—are accorded that which strengthens and -enriches. Herein have we all of life’s philosophy, brought to us with -mental conviction, with emotional delighting, and spiritual moving. We -get glimpses of what may be called the Trinity of Man. There is no side -of us which does not respond. Let all this triune service of the Lyceum -be clean and high; let not the desire for financial gain hush one worthy -voice, or turn aside from the straight path a single lofty purpose, -and the Lyceum shall be maintained so long as time endures, because it -shall be of the blessed things which are not born to die. Lecturers and -entertainers may come and go as individual factors of lyceum work, but -the Lyceum as an idea, a force, an inspiration, shall go on forever. - -The traveler looking upon Niagara sees the onward rush and surge -of countless drops of water. They sweep by and pass on, and return -not again. Still other countless millions of drops follow them, and -forever follow, and so in spite of separateness, there is perpetuity -and permanence. Niagara is immortal. The teachers, heroes, apostles, -prophets, singers and entertainers, come and go, and pass out to the -great sea beyond, but others come with word and song and smile, and -forever shall they come, and so as with Niagara, there is perpetuity and -permanence. The Lyceum Platform is immortal. - -[Illustration: - - WARD BAKER. - - “Music is God’s voice heard in a language without words.” - - Among the strong popular companies which will visit the South - next season, is the Boynton Concert Company, and one of the - leading performers of this Company is Ward Baker. Mr. Baker is - one of the few musicians who play to the soul and the heart, as - well as to the technical ear. -] - - - Echoes from the Field. - -Frederick Warde opens his Southern tour May first. - - * * * * * - -Alton Pachard, the popular chalk talker, is entertaining Southern -audiences with his unique and excellent program. - - * * * * * - -“Standard attractions,” is the decree the committees are pronouncing, and -“the survival of the fittest” will be the result. - - * * * * * - -Ida Benfey is adding to her laurels in the South. She recently gave -George Eliot’s beautiful story of “The Mill on the Floss” before an -audience of nearly four thousand people, in Nashville, as one of the -numbers of the Lyceum Course. - - * * * * * - -W. G. Escott, the popular secretary of the Hillsboro, Texas, Y. M. C. -A., writes the following report of the recent state convention held at -Hillsboro: - -The Twenty-second Annual State Convention of the Texas Young Men’s -Christian Association was held in Hillsboro, Texas, March 18-21. The -Hillsboro Association made preparation for three hundred delegates but -only about two hundred were in attendance. It was said by all to be one -of the best conventions in every respect that has been held in years in -Texas. The prominent speakers of the convention were Dr. Ira Landrith, of -Nashville; Rev. Dr. Carroll, of Dallas, Texas; Dr. T. S. Clyce, president -Austin College, Sherman, Texas; Judge John C. Townes, of Texas State -University, and Dr. S. P. Brooks, president Baylor University, Waco, -Texas. The program was very strong in every particular. The delegates -all expressed themselves as being royally entertained by the citizens of -Hillsboro. The only thing that could have added to the pleasure of the -gathering would have been better weather. - -The Texas Lyceum Association met during the convention and met the -different Bureaus represented and considered their talent. The following -were represented: New Dixie Bureau, Midland Bureau, Slayton Bureau, and -The Rice Bureau. After considering all the talent offered, the decision -was in favor of the Rice Bureau. The Associations of the state have -dealt with the Rice Bureau for several years and their attractions have -been first-class and according to representation and the service so -satisfactory that the members felt that there could be nothing gained by -making a change, so the Association business will be with The Rice Bureau -again the coming season. The new officers of the T. L. A. are Samuel -Warr, Cleburne, President; J. L. Hunter, Waco, Secretary and Treasurer. - -[Illustration: - - GEO. C. MILN, - - Of International Fame. - - It is a matter of much interest both North and South that Geo. - C. Miln, the great orator-actor, after many years of absence - from America, will make a tour of the United States next season, - presenting his great lecture, “The Story of a Strolling Player.” - Mr. Miln has played the plays of Shakespeare in almost every - civilized country under the sun. He will be remembered by - Americans as the brilliant orator who succeeded Robert Collyer in - the pulpit of Unity Church, Chicago. His oration on the death of - Garfield is considered one of the modern classics. -] - - - A Great Lecturer. - - By Opie Read. - -I wonder whether many of the people of Nashville remember a newspaper -printed in that city in 1876? To the few it was known as the _Evening -Mail_. To the many it was not known at all. We had not advocated -municipal ownership, we who conducted the enterprise, but the sheriff -somehow took it into his head that we did; and as he could not turn the -property over to the city, he kept it for the county. I don’t know what -was finally done with it. I suppose it became but an echo of dust. - -The paper was “established” by a number of printers and newspaper men who -had nothing else to do. As we were to share alike in the profits we went -alike to the free lunch counter. It was a pure democracy and the man who -owned fifteen shares of stock received no more than the man who owned -one. The paper was edited with longing and printed with hope. We were -all of us optimists. If a cloud arose in our sky we looked upon it as a -balloon ascension. I remember but one day of reproof and censure. The -foreman came into the “sanctum” and said to the editor-in-chief: “There -is trouble in the composing room, sir.” - -The editor, an old gentleman who loved to write and who vaguely believed -that eventually one of his editorials might be read from beginning to -end, looked up and sighed. - -“Trouble?” - -“Ah, and serious trouble, sir.” - -“What is it?” - -“Why, Ewing says that he’s got to eat.” - -“Eat!” echoed the editor. “What can he mean by such impudence? Did you -reason with him?” - -“I did, sir; I told him he ought to be ashamed of himself.” - -“And was he?” - -“No, sir; he forthwith gave me an example of insubordination. He accused -me of hiding a sandwich in my desk.” - -The editor thought a long time. He had written on the situation in -Europe and had given advice to England, France and Germany—he had told -the Powers what to do with Turkey, but this sandwich required deeper -meditation. “How many shares of stock does Ewing hold?” he inquired. - -“Ten, I believe, sir.” - -“Well, it seems to me that a man holding so many shares ought to be -possessed of more dignity. Let him transfer his stock to some one who -stands not high in his regard, and resign. You may go. But, wait a -moment, foreman. If you should happen to have a sandwich hidden in your -desk, don’t forget me. We have always been good friends, you know.” - -It was about this time that Major DeMaine made his appearance in -Nashville. He came with a heavily-worded recommendation from the Boston -School of Oratory. It was declared that he was the greatest orator of -the day or night. He had talked in Faneuil Hall. It appeared in the -paper Flanel Hall, but that made no difference. He would have been the -greatest of all actors but that he was religiously inclined and deplored -the thought of giving up his earnest life to the trivial mimickry of the -stage. He was not well dressed but we ascribed this lack of duds to his -individuality. But some of us questioned his greatness until he came -around to the office and put into the _Mail_ a full page advertisement. -Then we knew that he was great. This full page was an announcement -together with the press notices of his great lecture on Humanity. -Beecher said that it was profound and in an autograph letter Mark Twain -swore that it was funnier than Artemus Ward among the Mormons. We were -possessed of a small job press, and on this machine the tickets were -printed. We were to receive so much a hundred and we looked forward to -a time when we might eat, sitting down. One man, a pampered youth named -Billings, said that he must have a pair of shoes. At first we took this -for _badinage_, for one of this fellow’s whimsical jokes, but soon we -discovered that he meant it. We called a meeting of the faculty. The -editor sighed. For a man who possessed all wisdom he was the most -sighing man I ever knew. With him a sigh answered for declaration and -for epigram. He was never at a loss for sigh. So he sighed and asked -Billings if he had well considered the situation. Billings answered that -he thought he had. - -“And you must have shoes, you Beau Brummel! Just at this time of dawning -prosperity you must come forward to swamp our hope with needless -extravagance. Transfer your stock, Billings, and resign.” - -The lecture was to be given in a building which stood somewhere in Summer -Street. We were to sell the tickets to our friends and were to share in -the profits. And with what will we went forth! A stranger might have -thought that the city had been invaded by a gang of hold-up men. Well, -the night came. We were present, eighteen of us. The editor and the -business manager were absent, having been invited to attend a luncheon -given by a politician. But eighteen of us were there to hear that great -out-rush of the human mind. It may have been that the learning was too -deep for us, that the humor was too skilfully hidden. There was a large -audience and at first there was much applause, but it dropped off along -about the second round. At the close, however, there came something to -arouse our interest. Upon the table the lecturer emptied about a bushel -of cubes wrapped in paper. “Each one of these cubes contains a piece -of soap,” said he. “It is the finest that has ever been made. And this -is the offer that I shall make to you: I shall sell these cubes at -twenty-five cents each, and in at least half of the papers is contained -a yearly subscription to the _Evening Mail_, a paper which Mr. Watterson -declares is the freest and best-written journal in America. He himself is -thinking of taking the editorship of it on the first day of next July. -Let us open a few of these papers. Ah, we here have a subscription, here -is another—another—why, there are no end of them. I will now pass out -among you.” - -They bought his soap. He was giving our paper a boost and none save a -great man could do that. Surely, the day of our prosperity was about -to dawn. “I will be around early in the morning to settle for the -advertisement, the tickets and the many subscriptions,” he said to one of -us. “And now don’t think me presumptuous in what I said. Watterson has -his eye on this paper.” - -He did not come around the next day. We called on the business manager -and he said that no arrangements for subscriptions had been made with -him. We spoke to the editor and he sighed. Then, and for days afterward, -there came broken streams of people with orders for yearly subscriptions. -It was difficult to explain. The most of our stockholders had been -present and had heard the promises made by Major DeMaine. So we dozed off -into the bed prepared by the sheriff. - -The last time I saw the editor he took my hand with a sigh and said: “It -was a great pity that I went to that political luncheon. Ah, politics, -ruination of mighty empires!” - -Years afterward, in company with Col. Zeb. Ward, I was going through the -Arkansas penitentiary. Near the wall I observed an oldish man washing a -buggy. He had a familiar look, in spite of his stripes, and I spoke to -Colonel Ward concerning him. “He is known as Commodore Sassafrac,” said -the Colonel. “He got up a great land scheme down in the bottoms—told the -negroes that he had the management of the great Mexican war land claim. -Seventy million acres were set aside for the colored citizens, and all -they had to do was to show an order from the Commodore, which he gave for -five dollars apiece.” - -I went up to him and spoke. He looked at me. I reminded him of the -_Nashville Evening Mail_. “Ah,” said he, “I am pleased to meet anyone -from the glowing past. Back upon that time I look with fondness. Your -great journal made life worth living.” - -[Illustration: - - DAVID BISPHAM, - - One of the great stars of Grand Opera, who devotes a few weeks of - his time each season to lyceum work. The fact that an artist of - Bispham’s standing can be brought to the platform, is one of - the strong evidences of its phenomenal development. -] - -[Illustration: - - DR. THOMAS E. GREEN. - - Dr. Thomas E. Green, whose lecture, “The Key to the Twentieth - Century,” has been so widely and favorably commented upon by - the Press of the Country within the last year, will add a few - Southern cities to his platform itinerary, the coming season. -] - -[Illustration: - - MISS CLYDA B. REEVES, - - of Whitewright, Texas, - - one of the brightest and most promising aspirants for platform - honors, among Southern young women. -] - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. - 2. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed. - 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOB TAYLOR'S MAGAZINE, VOL. I, -NO. 2, MAY 1905 *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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} - .section { page-break-before: always; } - .ol_1 li {font-size: .9em; } - .x-ebookmaker .ol_1 li {padding-left: 1em; text-indent: 0em; } - body {font-family: Georgia, serif; text-align: justify; } - table {font-size: .9em; padding: 1.5em .5em 1em; page-break-inside: avoid; - clear: both; } - div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; } - div.titlepage p {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 3em; } - .ph2 { text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; - page-break-before: always; } - .box {border-style: solid; border-width: medium; padding: 1em; margin: 0em auto; - page-break-inside: avoid; max-width: 45em; } - .center {text-align: center; display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; - } - </style> - </head> -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Bob Taylor's Magazine, Vol. I, No. 2, May 1905, by Various</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Bob Taylor's Magazine, Vol. I, No. 2, May 1905</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Various</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April 1, 2022 [eBook #67756]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: hekula03 and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOB TAYLOR'S MAGAZINE, VOL. I, NO. 2, MAY 1905 ***</div> - -<div class="tnotes covernote"> - -<p class="c000"><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p> - -<p class="c000">The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p> - -</div> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_121">121</span></div> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<div> - <h1 class="c001">Bob Taylor’s Magazine.</h1> -</div> - -<p class="c003">$1.00 a Year. Monthly. 10 Cents a Copy.</p> - -<div> - <h2 class="c002">Contents for May, 1905.</h2> -</div> - -</div> - -<table class="table0" summary=""> - <tr> - <td class="bttd c004" colspan="3"><span class="sc">Frontispiece</span>—The Robert E. Lee Monument</td> - <td class="bttd c006"><a href="#Page_122">122</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">Address to Old Confederates</span></td> - <td class="c005"><em>Robert L. Taylor</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c007" colspan="4"><span class="small">Illustrated with photographs.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">In the Dark</span></td> - <td class="c005"><em>Grace MacGowan Cooke</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_128">128</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c007" colspan="4"><span class="small">Story. Illustrated by Mayne Cassell.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">The Spinner.</span> (Poem)</td> - <td class="c005"><em>Eloise Pickett</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">Men of Affairs</span></td> - <td class="c005"> </td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c007" colspan="4"><span class="small">Illustrated with photographs.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">Cotton and War</span></td> - <td class="c005"><em>Richmond Pearson Hobson</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_140">140</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c007" colspan="4"><span class="small">With portrait of author.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">The Master-Hand.</span> (Poem)</td> - <td class="c005"><em>Garnet Noel Wiley</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">The Boy in Gray</span></td> - <td class="c005"><em>Will N. Harben</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_145">145</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c007" colspan="4"><span class="small">Story. Illustrations by Lamira A. Goodwin.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">Song.</span> (Poem)</td> - <td class="c005"><em>Robert Loveman</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_152">152</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">The People of the Southern Mills</span></td> - <td class="c005"><em>Leonora Beck Ellis</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_153">153</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c007" colspan="4"><span class="small">Illustrated with photographs.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">The Merry Lady.</span> (Story)</td> - <td class="c005"><em>Roger Pocock</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">A Royal Residence</span></td> - <td class="c005"><em>James Henry Stevenson</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c007" colspan="4"><span class="small">Illustrated with photographs.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">The Finest Hotel.</span> (Story).</td> - <td class="c005"><em>A. Lytle Peterman, Ph.D.</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">Indefinitely Postponed</span></td> - <td class="c005"><em>Eva Williams Malone</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c007" colspan="4"><span class="small">Story. Illustrations by Mayna Treanor Avent.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">To Robert Louis Stevenson.</span> (Poem)</td> - <td class="c005"><em>Isabella Howe Fisk</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">Training Schools in Tennessee and the South</span></td> - <td class="c005"><em>J. H. Kirkland, D.C.L., Ph.D.</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_184">184</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c007" colspan="4"><span class="small">Illustrated with photographs.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">The Foreign Wife</span></td> - <td class="c005"><em>Claude M. Girardeau</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_192">192</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c007" colspan="4"><span class="small">Continued story.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">When Nellie Smiles.</span> (Poem).</td> - <td class="c005"><em>D’Arcy Moore</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_196">196</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">Serious Problems of Science To-Day</span></td> - <td class="c005"><em>Charles Baskerville, Ph.D.</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_197">197</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c007" colspan="4"><span class="small">With portrait of author.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">“The Message of the Violet.”</span> (Story)</td> - <td class="c005"><em>G. D. G.</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_201">201</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">Whose Temple Ye Are.</span> (Poem).</td> - <td class="c005"><em>Isabella Howe Fiske</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">Lyrical and Satirical</span>—Conducted by Vermouth</td> - <td class="c005"> </td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_203">203</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">Editorial</span></td> - <td class="c005"> </td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_206">206</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c007" colspan="4"><span class="small sc">Frenzied Politics. A Tale of a Lecture Tour. Foolish Dreamers.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">Leisure Hours</span></td> - <td class="c005"> </td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_213">213</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="3"><span class="sc">Books and Authors</span>—Conducted by Mrs. Genella Fitzgerald Nye</td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">The Fiddle and the Bow</span></td> - <td class="c005"><em>Robert L. Taylor</em></td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c007" colspan="4"><span class="small">Continued.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">Southern Platform</span></td> - <td class="c005"> </td> - <td class="c006"><a href="#Page_227">227</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004" colspan="2"><span class="sc">The Humorous, the Pathetic and the Dramatic.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004"> </td> - <td class="c005"><span class="sc">The Mysteries</span></td> - <td class="c005"><em>James Hunt Cook.</em></td> - <td class="c006"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004"> </td> - <td class="c005"><span class="sc">Thomas Jefferson and the Average Man</span></td> - <td class="c005"><em>Dana C. Johnson.</em></td> - <td class="c006"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004"> </td> - <td class="c005"><span class="sc">The Lyceum Platform</span></td> - <td class="c005"><em>Dr. James Hedley.</em></td> - <td class="c006"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004"> </td> - <td class="c005"><span class="sc">Echoes from the Field.</span></td> - <td class="c005"> </td> - <td class="c006"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c004"> </td> - <td class="c005"><span class="sc">A Great Lecturer</span></td> - <td class="c005"><em>Opie Read.</em></td> - <td class="c006"> </td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="lg-container-b"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">Copyright 1905 by The Taylor Publishing Co. All rights reserved</div> - <div class="line in10"><span class="sc">The Taylor Publishing Company</span>, Publishers,</div> - <div class="line in23"><em>Vanderbilt Law Building</em>, Nashville, Tenn.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c1"> - <div class="nf-center"> - <div><span class="small"><em>BOB TAYLOR’S MAGAZINE ADVERTISEMENTS.</em></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="box"> - -<div class="nf-center-c1"> -<div class="nf-center c008"> - <div><span class="xlarge">THE WONDERFUL ELECTRIC CANDY MACHINE</span></div> - <div class="c009">WHICH TOOK THE PRIZE FOR “NOVELTY OF INVENTION”</div> - <div class="c009">AT THE WORLD’S FAIR. ST. LOUIS, MO., 1904</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="box"> - -<div class="figright id001"> -<img src="images/i_ad1.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c000">THE CANDY MADE BY THIS MACHINE IS ABSOLUTELY PURE.</p> - -<p class="c000">Granulated sugar -is poured into the -spinner and is instantly -changed into -flossy filaments -of PURE candy -without the touch -of a contaminating -finger.</p> - -<p class="c000">Our machines are -NEVER SOLD but -leased for a period -of ten years, giving -Lessee EXCLUSIVE -control of the -territory leased.</p> - -<p class="c000">At Los Angeles, Cal., our Lessee made and sold 850 -ten cent packages of FAIRY FLOSS candy in one day -from one machine.</p> - -<p class="c000">Four FAIRY FLOSS candy machines which were -operated at the Mechanics’ Pavilion, Boston, Mass., for -twenty days in October, 1904, earned in that time -$1,750.00.</p> - -<p class="c000">Our Lessee in Minneapolis, Minn., sold in seven days -from one stand running one machine, $205.00 worth of -FAIRY FLOSS candy.</p> - -<p class="c000">Our Lessee in Nashville, Tenn., sold $60.00 worth of -FAIRY FLOSS candy from one machine in one day.</p> - -<p class="c000">A pound of sugar will make sixteen packages of -FAIRY FLOSS candy, such as was sold at the -World’s Fair for ten cents each.</p> - -<p class="c000">Our machines are fully protected by patents, -dated January 31, 1899, and January 6, 1903, and -other patents pending.</p> - -</div> - -<p class="c000">Like money and other good things, our machines -are being imitated.</p> - -<p class="c000">The Public is Warned that machines not having -this name plate are infringements and users are -liable to prosecution:</p> - -<div class="box"> - -<div class="nf-center-c1"> -<div class="nf-center"> - <div class="c009">THE PROPERTY OF</div> - <div><span class="sc">The Electric Candy Machine Company</span>,</div> - <div>Nashville, Tennessee, U. S. A.</div> - <div class="c009">Candy machine patented Jan. 31, ’99; Jan. 6, ’08.</div> - <div>Motor patented Oct. 14, ’90; Nov. 10, ’91.</div> - <div class="c009"><span class="sc">General Electric Company, U. S. A.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c1"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ADDRESS</div> - <div class="c009"><span class="xlarge">ELECTRIC CANDY MACHINE COMPANY,</span></div> - <div class="c009">NASHVILLE, TENNESSEE.</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c1"> - <div class="nf-center"> - <div><span class="small"><em>In writing to advertisers please mention Bob Taylor’s Magazine.</em></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter id002"> -<span class="pageno" id="Page_122">122</span> -<img src="images/i_122.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">EQUESTRIAN STATUE OF ROBERT E. LEE AT RICHMOND.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_123">123</span></div> - -<div class="box chapter"> - -<p class="c012"><span class="xxlarge">BOB TAYLOR’S MAGAZINE</span></p> - -</div> - -<table class="table1" summary=""> -<colgroup> -<col width="33%" /> -<col width="33%" /> -<col width="33%" /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class="btt bbt c005">VOL. I</td> - <td class="btt bbt c013">MAY, 1905</td> - <td class="btt bbt c014">NO. 2</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div> - <h2 class="c002">ADDRESS TO OLD CONFEDERATES.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>By Robert L. Taylor.</div> - <div>Delivered at the Confederate Reunion at Brownsville, Tenn., in August, 1902.</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-capa0_0_6 c015">Time in its tireless flight has -brought us again to the full -leaf and flower of another summer. -The grass grows green -about the dust of heroes; the roses -twine once more about their tomb, and -the morning-glories point their purple -bugles toward the sky as if to sound a -reveille to our immortal dead. Another -year with its sunshine and its -shadows, its laughter and its tears, its -sowing and its reaping, its cradle songs -and funeral hymns, now lies between -us and that dark day at Appomattox -when the star of Southern hope went -down and the flag of Southern chivalry -was furled forever. Another year has -added whiter locks to the temples of -those old veterans who wore the gray, -and deeper furrows to their brows, and -they now stand among us like solitary -oaks in the middle of a fallen forest, -hoary with age, covered with scars, -and glorious as the living monuments -of Southern manhood and Southern -courage.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_123.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">SAM DAVIS.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">But we are not yet far enough away -from that awful struggle to forget the -bloody hills of Shiloh, where Albert -Sidney Johnston died, and the fatal -field of Chancellorsville, where Stonewall -Jackson fell. We are not yet far -enough away to forget the frowning -heights of Gettysburg, where Pickett’s -charging lines rushed to glory and the -grave. We are not yet far enough -away to forget Murfreesboro, Missionary -Ridge and Chickamauga, and the -hundred other fields of death and -courage, where the flower of the South, -the bravest of the brave and the truest -of the true, fought for the cause they -thought was right, and died for the -land they loved. We are not yet far -enough away to forget the agony and -the tears of a nation that was crushed -when the shattered armies of Lee and<span class="pageno" id="Page_124">124</span> -Johnston, weary, half-starved, bare-footed -and in rags, stacked their arms -in the gloom of defeat, and left the -field of valor overwhelmed and overpowered, -yet undaunted and unconquered. -When time has measured off -a thousand years, the world will not -forget the sufferings and the sacrifices -of the brave men who so freely gave -their fortunes and shed their blood -to preserve the most brilliant civilization -that ever flourished in any land or -in any age, for literature loves a lost -cause.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_124.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">ALBERT SIDNEY JOHNSTON.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Historians will some day sit down -on our battlefield and write true history—history -that will surpass the -wildest dreams of fancy that were ever -woven into fiction; and poets will -linger among our graves and sing -sweeter songs than were ever sung before. -For each monument is within -itself a volume of wild and thrilling adventure, -and every tombstone tells a -story touching as the soldier’s last -tear on the white bosom of his manhood’s -bride, tender as his last farewell.</p> - -<p class="c016">I would not utter a word of bitterness -against the men who wore the -blue. They fought and died under -the old flag to perpetuate the Union, -and they were men worthy -of Southern prowess and -Southern valor. I would -not, if I could, rob Grant, -the great and noble chieftain, -of his fame and glory. -Every Southern soldier -ought to stand with uncovered -head when his -name is spoken. For -when all was lost, in the -darkest and saddest moment -of Southern history, -he was magnanimous to -Lee, and kind to his famished -and shattered army. -Along the blue lines of the -triumphant foe, when -the unhappy Confederates -marched between them -and laid down their guns, -there was no shout of victory -nor flourish of trumpets, -but only silence and -tears.</p> - -<p class="c016">When the conflict had -ended the Confederate soldier -proudly stood among -the blackened walls of his -ruined country, magnificent -in the gloom of defeat, -and still a hero. His -sword was broken, his -home was in ashes, the -earth was red beneath -him, the sky was black -above him; he had placed all in the -scales of war and had lost all save -honor. But he did not sit down in -despair to weep away the passing -years.</p> - -<p class="c016">His slaves were gone but he was still -a master. Too proud to pine, too -strong to yield to adversity, he threw -down his musket and laid his willing -but unskilled hands upon the waiting -plow. He put away the knapsack of<span class="pageno" id="Page_125">125</span> -war and turned his face -toward the morning of -peace. He abandoned the -rebel yell to enter the forum -and the court room and the -hustings. He gave up the -sword to enter the battles -of industry and commerce, -and now, in little more than -a third of a century, the -land of desolation and -death, the land of monuments -and memories, has -reached the springtime of a -grander destiny, and the -sun shines bright on the -domes and towers of new -cities built upon the ashes -of the old, and the cotton -fields wave their white banners -of peace and the fields -of wheat wave back their -banners of gold.</p> - -<p class="c016">Who can portray the -possibilities of a country -that has produced the Lees -and Jacksons and the brilliant -Gordon and the dashing -Joe Wheeler, who is -as gallant in the blue as he was glorious -in the gray, and the impetuous and immortal -Bedford Forrest, the Marshal -Ney of the Confederacy? Who can -portray the possibilities of a country -which has produced the stalwart and -sinewy men of the rank and file, who -followed the stars and bars through -the smoke and flame of every desperate -battle and stepped proudly into -history as the greatest fighters the -world has ever known?—a country so -richly blessed not only with brave men -and beautiful women, but whose blossoming -hills and fertile valleys are so -generous and kind, and whose mountains -are burdened with coal and iron -and copper and zinc and lead enough -to supply the world for a thousand -years; whose virgin forests yet stand -awaiting and sighing for the woodsman’s -ax, and whose winding rivers -flow clear and cool and make music as -they go. It is the beautiful land of -love and liberty, of sunshine and sentiment, -of fruits and flowers, where the -grape-vine staggers from tree to tree as -if drunk with the wine of its own purple -clusters; where peach and plum -and blood-red cherries and every kind -of berry bend bough and bush and -glow like showered drops of rubies and -pearls. It is the land of the magnolia -and the melon, the paradise of the -cotton and the cane.</p> - -<p class="c016">They tell us now that it is the new -South, but the same old blood runs -in the veins of these old veterans and -the same old spirit heaves their bosoms -and flashes in their eyes; the same old -soldiers who wielded the musket long -ago are nursing their grandchildren on -their knees and teaching them the -same old lessons of honor and truth, -and the same old love of liberty. The -mocking-bird sings the same old songs -in the same old tree, and the brooks -laugh and leap down the same old -hollows. It is the same old South and -we are the same old Southern people:</p> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">There may be skies as blue, but none bluer;</div> - <div class="line">There may be hearts as true, but none truer.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_125.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">STONEWALL JACKSON.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">It is the same old land of the free and -the same old home of the brave. It -is the same old South resurrected from<span class="pageno" id="Page_126">126</span> -the dead, with the prints of the nails -still in its hands and the scars of the -spear still in its side.</p> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">“I’m glad I am in Dixie,</div> - <div class="line in2">Look away! Look away!</div> - <div class="line">And live and die for Dixie,</div> - <div class="line in2">Look away! Look away!</div> - <div class="line">Look away down South in Dixie.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Within the borders of this fair land -of Dixie the finest opportunities for -investment and the richest fields for -enterprise ever known in the Western -Hemisphere are now open to all who -wish to come and help us to make it -blossom like the rose. A new development -has already begun. Thirty -years ago there was not a factory in -South Carolina. To-day she is spinning -and weaving more cotton than -she raises and is second only to Massachusetts -in the manufacture of cotton -goods; and North Carolina and Georgia -have made equal progress with South -Carolina in this new idea of making the -South not only the leader in agriculture, -but also in converting -our raw material into -finished articles of commerce -and trade, and thus -saving to our section countless -millions of wealth. In -the mountains of south-western -Virginia, south-eastern -Kentucky, East -Tennessee, North Alabama, -where the sunshine plays -hide and seek with the -shadows, and where many -rivers are born, there is a -beautiful valley six hundred -miles in length and -from one to thirty miles -wide. Until a quarter of a -century ago the principal -product of that country -was children. The people -did not realize that the -north rim of the valley was -almost an unbroken vein -of coal and that the South -was an exhaustless bed of -iron, and they placed but -little value on the vast -parks of timber where the -ax had never gleamed, but -now the dynamite has just -begun to jar the silent -hills and the forests have just begun -to fall. Birmingham is making the -sky of night red with the glare of her -furnaces, and all the way up the valley -to the new city of Roanoke new furnaces -are being lighted and new industries -are developing, and Huntsville, -Decatur, Chattanooga, Knoxville, -Johnson City and Bristol on the -line, will soon be great manufacturing -centers, where the pig iron and the -logs of hardwood that are now being -shipped away to be converted into -finished articles will pass through our -own mills and we will cease to be the -fools we have been in the past, buying -furniture made in foreign cities out -of our own timber and all the implements -of agriculture made out of our -own iron.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_126.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">GENERAL GORDON.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Until twenty years ago the sons of -Mississippi, Louisiana and Arkansas -were contented to sit on their verandas -and watch the “nigger” and his lazy -mule in the cotton field and listen to<span class="pageno" id="Page_127">127</span> -the melodies of the old -plantation. But now the -mills of Mississippi are -beginning to mingle their -music with these melodies, -and the marshes -of Louisiana are being -converted into rice fields -and she is making -enough sugar to-day to -sweeten the tooth of the -world. Arkansas is building -factories and opening -her mines and mineral -wealth, and sawing down -her great forests of pine. -At the close of the Civil -War Texas was a wilderness, -but now the howl of -the wolf has given place to -the whistle of the engine, -and the whoop of the -Indian has been hushed -by the music of machinery. -From Texarkana -to El Paso prosperous -cities and towns -have sprung up like -prairie flowers where -the wild horse once galloped -and the buffalo -grazed, and great geysers of coal oil -have solved the fuel problem.</p> - -<p class="c016">In the full development of this new -idea of transforming our raw material -into finished goods lies our hope of -regaining our prestige and power in -the management of national affairs, -and of winning back billions of wealth -which were wiped out by the destroying -angel of war. God grant that our -beloved old South may be as happy in -reaping the golden harvest of prosperity -in the years to come as she has -been brave and true through the suffering -and woes of adversity in the sorrowful -years of the past.</p> - -<p class="c016">And now, my grizzled old friends -who once wore the gray, in the name -of the young men I congratulate you -upon having lived to see the dawn of a -brighter day for your battle-scarred -and war-swept country. You must -soon answer to the roll call of eternity -and join your comrades on the other -side. I give you the pledge of your -sons that they will ever defend the -record you have made and themselves -live up to the traditions of their -fathers. In the name of our women, -both young and old, I implore the -blessing of the Lord upon you, and -pray that as the dews of life’s evening -are condensing on your brow and the -shadows of the long, long night are -gathering about you, you may linger -long in the twilight, with loving hands -to lead you and loving hearts to -bless.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_127.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">HARRISON’S GIFT AT CAMP CHASE.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - <span class="pageno" id="Page_128">128</span> - <h2 class="c002">IN THE DARK.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter id002"> -<img src="images/i_128.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">By Grace MacGowan Cooke</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="drop-capa0_0_6 c015">Virginia sat late at her work. -Or rather, she sat before the -desk which contained her -work and fought the battle -which is as old as our conception of a -woman’s duty. She had that day -listened to words of love from a man -whom her heart rose up to answer—she, -betrothed to Parke Winchester. -Hasn’t a woman a right to change her -mind? Ah, but Parke—his salvation -as well as his happiness was in her -hands! Had he not told her so a -hundred times? Was he not drinking -hard, and going straight to the dogs -when she was coaxed into this secret -pact with him? If she let him go, if -she pushed him away from her, would -he not fall lower? Could she ever -forgive herself?</p> - -<p class="c016">Then, she was uneasy about Fair; -her young brother was evidently finding -companions who did him no good. -Twice he had come home of late so -much under the influence of drink that -she was put to the utmost of her -powers to keep the matter from her -father. She had no mother, she and -Fair were the only children. In her -desperation she had gone to Winchester; -he would know, he would understand. -She remembered the feverish -eagerness with which he had answered -her.</p> - -<p class="c016">“You know, of course, Virginia, that -I haven’t touched a drop since you -promised to marry me. I can’t bear -the thought of the stuff now. But -I’ll hang around some of the places -where it’s sold and catch up with Fair. -I can help him. I can save him for -you, Virginia, honey, because I’ve been -there myself.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Now, if she broke her word to Winchester -she was losing more than her -lover, for he had added fiercely, “But -if you cast me off, if you break with -me, I’ll go straight to the devil. -You’ve got that on your conscience, -little woman. I’ll go, and I’ll take -Fair with me if I can. You’ve got the -souls of two men in your keeping, for -if you were my wife—as long as you -have promised to be my wife—I’d as -soon think of stealing a Bible from a -church as taking a drink of whisky.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Then came the thought of the other -man, whom she could really love—the -man who would save his own -soul and not ask the sacrifice of a -woman’s happiness for his salvation. -Yet, she reasoned, it was a marvelous -thing that her influence should have -kept her betrothed from even the desire -for drink. She half wished for a -moment that influence were not so -great. Then she reproved herself, -sighed and pushed the heavy, dark -hair from off her forehead. A vagrant, -scuffling sound from the hallway outside -kept intruding upon her consciousness. -Finally the little intermittent -noise secured her attention, -and then she thought a dog or a cat -must have been left inside when the -house was closed for the night. She -stepped to the door, to be met by a -shambling, bowing old figure, and -Uncle Vete’s deprecating, apologetic -face.</p> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_129">129</span></div> - -<p class="c016">“I hates ter ’sturb you, li’l Mis,” he -protested. “I hates might’ly ter ’sturb -you; but dey’s trouble out to my -house—I spect you knows ’bout it, -honey.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Virginia drew back, took up her -lamp and motioned the old man to -follow her downstairs to the dining -room. “Don’t wake father, if it’s -about Fairfax,” she cautioned. “It -would only hurt his feelings, and make -a bad matter worse.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Yas, baby chile, dat des’ what Vete -was fearin’.” They stole softly to the -dining room, and stood there confronted -in the lamplight, the tall girl -in her white dress, and the wizened -little old negro in his comically ill-fitting -broadcloth, hat in hand.</p> - -<p class="c016">“You see ’t ’uz dishyer way: Marse -Fair, he come out ter my place dis -mawnin’—you know, Mis’, he train -wid a feller what allers come out dar -when he git ter spreein’. I uzzen’ dar. -’Ouldn’t ’a’ been no trouble ef I’d a’ -been dar. Unk’ Vete can manage de -bofe of ’em, tell dey git too bad.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Who was with my brother?” inquired -the girl sharply.</p> - -<p class="c016">The little old black man stole a -side-long look at his interlocutrice. -He was a slave, born on the Sevier -plantation, body servant to her father, -General Sevier, in whose discarded -wear he now stood; and loyalty to the -name warred in him with that freemasonry -which keeps the male silent -about the shortcomings of another -male, when speaking to the woman -who most needs to be warned of them.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Dey dest one feller lef’ wid Marse -Fair,” he mumbled. “Dey wuz a -whole passel o’ boys dis mawnin’. -But dem yutheh boys tuk an’ went -home, whiles dey could walk. An’ I -cain’t git Marse Fair to move.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Well, Uncle Vete, I’ll put on my -things and go with you,” said Virginia, -with sudden resolution. “I can manage -Fair.” Returning, hat in hand, -she had the curiosity to inquire, “How -did you get in, Uncle Vete?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“W’y, yo’ cook lady hyer, she a -sisteh in de ‘Ban’ o’ High and Glor’ous -Wardens,’ an’ I b’longs to de same -division; an’ she lef’ me in, honey; she -lef’ me in.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Did you drive?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“I come ’long er’ ol’ Belzybug an’ -de cyart.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“And Beelzebub has made two trips -to-day,” added Virginia. “He must -be tired. Put him in the barn, Uncle -Vete, and we’ll get a street hack as we -go down past Summer Avenue.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“An’ have ol’ Marse askin’ quisti’ns -’bout dat mule in de mawnin’? No, -ma’am. No, li’l lady. I got a frien’, -down de road hyer a piece, what keep -a wagon yawd. I gwine leave dat -mule dah, Miss Ginnie.”</p> - -<p class="c016">The streets were quite deserted; it -was near twelve o’clock. Virginia was -glad that she met no one, though the -little old black man bobbing after her -was as efficient an escort and protector -as she could have had. The street -hack of the small Southern city is most -commonly a vehicle of the family -carriage style; probably many of them -have descended from the estate of domestic -privacy. One found, its sleeping -driver wakened, his gaunt horse -prodded into action, Virginia leaned -forward, and began to ask Uncle Vete -further questions in a carefully lowered -tone, as he sat beside the driver.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Is he worse than before?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“’Bout de same, honey, des ’bout -de same. I is saw ’um mo’ ’rageous; -an’ ergin, I is saw ’um less ’rageous. -’Bout so an’ so, honey. Des ’bout so -an’ so, Miss Ginnie, chile.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“You say there’s some one with him; -are they inside the house?”</p> - -<p class="c016">Uncle Vete grinned, and twisted in -his seat. “Yas, honey,” he admitted, -finally. “Dey bofe inside de house, -an’ de fambly, dey on de outside. -Dat whut mek me come fer you dis -time er night.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Do you mean that they turned you -out?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Yas, honey. I foun’ Cindy an’ de -chillen all turn’t out an’ blockaded, an’ -young Marse a shootin’ th’oo de do’ -ef anybody speak ter ’im.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Virginia leaned back in silence. -The crazy old vehicle creaked and -rattled over the rough road. Its one -sorry horse made slow progress.</p> - -<p class="c016">Fairfax Sevier, less than two years -older than his sister, Virginia, was a -handsome, brilliant, lovable young<span class="pageno" id="Page_130">130</span> -fellow, endeared to her by the same -qualities and the same odd unexpected -little lapses and weak spots which endlessly -charmed and perplexed her in -her father.</p> - -<p class="c016">The general was a peculiarly high-minded, -honorable man, with all in -his character that makes for good -citizenship. He had brought through -a youth which was not without its little -scattered patches of wild oats, and a -famously dare-devil military career -during the Civil War, an unpollutable -vein of childlike innocency. It was -not that he failed to see evil, or to -know it and understand it. But he -saw and knew these things as a child -does, intelligent, but unsoiled.</p> - -<p class="c016">His most marked characteristic was -a determined disposition to meddle -with the affairs of no human creature, -to refuse authority, because it implied -responsibility; to let—as he felicitously -phrased it—every fellow go to the -devil his own gait.</p> - -<p class="c016">This trait made him, among his -children, always more a brother than a -parent, and was most amusingly displayed -during their infancy and childhood. -He would stand aloof from a -small offender who was weltering defiantly -in infantile crime. Bending -his handsome head, he would look -from his very considerable height down -to the little sinner before him, and addressing -it in the most confidential -tone of perfect equality, remark:</p> - -<p class="c016">“You’re making a pretty mess of -things there; now, aren’t you? Think -you want to bust that, do you? Do -you know, you’re going to be mighty -sorry when you get done this business? -And like enough your mother’ll spank -you, too.”</p> - -<p class="c016">When, as had occurred twice of late, -Fair was led to participate in wild -sprees, this was scarcely the father to -whom an appeal for assistance or the -exercise of salutary authority would -be addressed. Virginia could hear him -saying, with a flash of those big dark -eyes, “Well, well, Ginnie, I can’t keep -him in a glass case, just because he -happens to be my son. Let him see -the folly of it. Let him find out -whether he wants to be a drunkard or -not. Every man must do that for -himself. Your conclusion—or mine—that -he doesn’t want to do this sort of -thing, isn’t valid. It could not be incorporated -into his character. He -must be free to make some selection -of his own.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Arrived at the cabin, a belated, waning -moon showed them the little hut, -dark and silent. “I boun’ y’ Marse -Fair done break dat lamp. Hit ’uz -burnin’, time I lef’,” muttered the -old man.</p> - -<p class="c016">The sound of their wheels brought -a dusky, straggling group to the gate. -The nucleus of this group was Uncle -Vete’s last wife, a round-faced young -mulatto woman, with a baby in her -arms. About her churned and bobbed -a tribe of various sizes, part of them -clinging to her skirts and whimpering -sleepily.</p> - -<p class="c016">Cindy was a cheerful soul, with a -giggle ready to burst forth upon the -slightest provocation, or no provocation -at all. Virginia glanced in distress -at the baby. “Oh, Cindy,” she -cried, “poor little thing! Why, it’s -too bad for you to be out here in the -night air with that young child.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“He ain’t des’ so overly turrible -young, Miss Fa’ginny,” returned Cindy -with her comfortable chuckle. “De -big chillen mo’ skeerter dan whut he -is.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Virginia, full of indignation, sprang -from the carriage. “Tek keer, honey!” -cautioned Uncle Vete, as she -hurried through the yard. “Dey’s -th’ee o’ my youngest sleepin’ dah -un’neath dat ’simmon tree.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Avoiding the slumberers beneath -the persimmon, Virginia made directly -for the door.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Hol’ on! Hol’ on! My precious -chile! Yo’ gwine get yo’se’f shot!” -urged Vete. Cindy screamed, and all -the children who were awake began -to wail in concert.</p> - -<p class="c016">Like a sensible girl, Virginia stood -aside from the panels, back where the -heavy logs protected her. (“An’ one -dem shots might sail th’oo de chinkin’ -des’ easy ez not!” Cindy whimpered.) -She struck on the door and cried, -“Fair—Fairfax! Open this door!”</p> - -<p class="c016">The answer came in the form of a -bullet.</p> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_131">131</span></div> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_131.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">“Buddy,” she said, huskily, “Buddy, dear, I brought a hack out for you.”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_132">132</span></div> - -<p class="c016">At the report, Cindy uttered a yell -so efficient and comprehensive that -Virginia supposed her no less than -mortally wounded. The children, -even those lying so soundly asleep on -the ground that they had not been -wakened when Virginia stepped almost -upon them, rose up and fled to their -mother’s wide-spread, sheltering arms, -like a brood of alarmed chickens fleeing -from a hawk.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Eph’um! Bandoline! Baxter! -Pearline! Commodory? Whey is you-all—whey -is you-all? Oh, Lawdy! -<i>Lawdy!</i> I is got mo’ child’en dan dis! -I <i>knows</i> I’s got mo’ child’en dan whut -dis is! Young Marse done kill some -on ’em!” rose Cindy’s excited shriek.</p> - -<p class="c016">There came a second shot, before -Virginia rapped again, crying angrily, -“It is I, Virginia. Put up your pistol -and open the door!”</p> - -<p class="c016">After a very long silence within the -hut. “I ’spects dey done napped off,” -mildly suggested Uncle Vete. Virginia -was preparing to knock again, -when a little gust of wind arising, the -door swung silently open, showing that -it had been unbarred for some time.</p> - -<p class="c016">Virginia stepped into the room, -carrying one of the carriage lamps and -unheeding Uncle Vete’s caution to -“Go easy, honey, an’ holler ’fo’ you -git inside, so dey know who comin’.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Fair’s companion lay sprawled upon -the gay patchwork quilt of Cindy’s -best bed. He was, or pretended to be, -sleeping heavily. The hack driver -would have to be called if he was to be -roused and gotten into the vehicle.</p> - -<p class="c016">At the table, his head among half-filled -and empty glasses, and the -wreck of a poker game, sat Fairfax -Sevier. Virginia went with averted -eyes past the bed to her brother, and -shook him by the shoulder.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Buddy,” she said huskily, “Buddy, -dear, I brought a hack out for you. -Can you walk to it?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Who’s goin’—take care—Parke? -Parke’s been drinkin’,” explained poor -Fair, with something like a whimper.</p> - -<p class="c016">Virginia turned to the bed; and contempt -fell cool upon her suffering. A -face in drunken slumber is not calculated -to command respect, even to -win much sympathy.</p> - -<p class="c016">The girl took the shock like the -daughter of warriors that she was. -“Does Parke Winchester drink now?” -she inquired, finally, of the negro.</p> - -<p class="c016">Again Vete stole that quick, side-long -glance at her. “I ain’t never -knowed de time Marse Parke quit,” -he returned finally. “He might fool -de white folks ’bout hit, but he ain’t -take dat trouble wid de niggers. -Him an’ Marse Fair been at my house -mo’ dan onct lately.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Parke, then, had not only never -given up his drinking; he had been -actually initiating Fairfax Sevier into -the great and inglorious guild of -topers, while he deceived the sister -with promises that he would find who -it was Fair drank with and look after -the boy.</p> - -<p class="c016">She was free; but not yet could her -heart rise to the knowledge. The -bowed, boyish figure before her, the -degradation of that sleeper upon the -negro’s poor bed—these left her very -pitiful. “He’ll be quiet and behave -himself now, Uncle Vete.” she said; -“I’ll take Fair with me—we can’t -move him,” indicating Winchester. -“Let him sleep.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“O, yassum, yassum. He be all -right in de mawnin’. He been all -right ternight, ef I could jest er got -hol’ ’er ’im. Dishyer negoshulatin’ -wid ’er man th’oo er do’, an’ him er -doin’ his talkin’ wid er gun, hit’s unsartin -kin’ er wuyck.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Still in a daze Virginia picked up a -pistol from the floor, turned the cylinder -to see that it was unloaded, and -dropped it into the pocket of Parke’s -light overcoat.</p> - -<p class="c016">At the action, Fair showed his first -consciousness of her presence -“You’ll get yourself shot one—these -days, Virginia,” he muttered, half -irritably, half penitently. “—’dvise -you—let such things ’lone.” And one -could not have said whether he meant, -by this, her present handling of the -firearm itself, her former reckless demand -that he open the door, or her -presence on such a scene.</p> - -<p class="c016">Uncle Vete assured Virginia that he -would look after Parke for the night, -and would see that he reached home -in the morning. She gently declined<span class="pageno" id="Page_133">133</span> -the old man’s offer to return to town -with her, and promised to send Beelzebub -out by Sam, Cindy’s eldest, who -was acting as house-boy at the Sevier -home. The drive in the night air, and -Virginia’s presence somewhat sobered -her brother. “Does dad know?” he -asked, as they neared home.</p> - -<p class="c016">“I didn’t wake him,” responded -Virginia.</p> - -<p class="c016">Fair turned, as he lay with his head -against her shoulder. He was beginning -to be deathly sick—the end of all -Fair’s essays at drinking. “You’re -a good girl, Virginia. Mighty good -girl. I reckon you’ll get your reward -in heaven.”</p> - -<p class="c016">But, driving home under the stars, -freed from a self-imposed bond, -warned that she might in future protect -this well-beloved sinner whose -head lay on her breast, ready now to -accept the love of the man she loved, -with no shadow on her conscience—Virginia -felt that she had her reward -here, now and in this world.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2 class="c002">THE SPINNER.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>BY ELOISE PICKETT.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">Wearied to death of my thoughts!</div> - <div class="line">Is there none, in this epoch of wondrous wares,</div> - <div class="line">Will sell me a fair, sweet dream?</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">I summoned my spirit, this morn, to be chid</div> - <div class="line">For her endless weaving of gloom;</div> - <div class="line">But she lifted me retrospective eyes,</div> - <div class="line">Burning and dry (for the tears, dammed back,</div> - <div class="line">Have found them a pool in my heart);</div> - <div class="line">Her face was wan, and her mouth was set</div> - <div class="line">In the hard, thin line of resolve.</div> - <div class="line">And I left unsaid my stern rebuke,</div> - <div class="line">But her answer cried loud in her mien:</div> - <div class="line">“<i>I</i> weave; but the warp and the woof are thine;</div> - <div class="line">Thou madest them yesterday.”</div> - <div class="line">And so I watch, with sickening hope,</div> - <div class="line">As her busy fingers ply</div> - <div class="line">’Mongst threads from the throbbing Other Days,</div> - <div class="line">And wisps from the ominous Days to Come,</div> - <div class="line">And skeins from the stagnant Now.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">Wearied to death of my thoughts!</div> - <div class="line">Is there none, in this epoch of cunning skill,</div> - <div class="line">Can weave me thought-fabrics fair?</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_133.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div class="figcenter id002"> -<span class="pageno" id="Page_134">134</span> -<img src="images/i_134.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> -<div> - <h2 class="c002">MEN OF AFFAIRS</h2> -</div> - -</div> - -<h3 class="c022">Joseph W. Bailey.</h3> - -<p class="c023">One of the most youthful members -of the government’s gravest and most -august legislative body is Senator -Joseph W. Bailey, a typical representative -of the biggest, the breeziest -and the most untrammeled, if not the -most patriotic and progressive commonwealth -in the Union. A natural -leader, an orator of plausibility and -power and a politician of resource and -acumen, he is besides admittedly one -of the ablest constitutional lawyers -in public life.</p> - -<p class="c016">Though a native of Mississippi and -a legal product of Cumberland University, -Tennessee, Senator Bailey is -a Texan seemingly to the manner -born. He looks, speaks, thinks and -feels Texas, and having won his spurs -so creditably in the congressional -jousts his people have gratefully recognized -his talents by entrusting him -with the higher responsibilities of -senator.</p> - -<p class="c016">While Senator Bailey is a virile -product of the present and coming -generation in the South he has not -been inclined to relinquish the habits, -dress and thought of the passing regime -and his picturesque personality -is doubtless as readily recognized by -resident of and visitor to Washington -as any other public character of the -times. In no particular do his old-school -propensities more emphatically -display themselves than in his native -love for rural life and natural objects. -His chief hobby comprises the maintenance -of an expansive estate whereon -he rears the sportive thoroughbred, so -dear to the heart of the rural Southerner, -and whereon he spends in the open -very much of his leisure time.</p> - -<p class="c016">Senator Bailey is a close student of -men, politics and affairs, and is of -the South, social, though he has no -taste for the conventional society of -the city.</p> - -<h3 class="c022">James D. Porter.</h3> - -<p class="c023">For nearly half a century has the -Honorable James D. Porter figured -eminently but modestly as a public -servant politically, civilly and commercially. -A native of Tennessee, in -which State he has spent nearly all of -his eventful life, he was born at Paris, -in 1828, and was admitted to the bar -in 1859. With a disposition toward -the public service, from a State legislator -he became a circuit judge, and -from the bench he ascended to the -gubernatorial chair, which he was -twice called upon to occupy. His -large and worthy talents coming to -the notice of President Cleveland, he -was invited during his first term to -serve as Assistant Secretary of State, -which he did with such satisfaction -as to receive during the President’s -second term his credentials as the government’s -official representative to -Chili, in which capacity he attracted -attention by his tactful reestablishment -of friendly relations between -the two countries.</p> - -<p class="c016">In the active commercial affairs of -life he has been likewise prominent, -being sometime president of the Nashville, -Chattanooga and St. Louis Railroad -Company, and as a soldier of the -gray he gallantly participated in many -of the fiercest conflicts of the war as -Adjutant General under General Frank -Cheatham.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_135.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">HON. JOSEPH W. BAILEY.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">In 1901 he was selected by virtue of -his wide experience in affairs, executive -ability, character and attainments, -as the most suitable head of the great -Peabody benefaction to the cause of -Southern education, and he is successfully<span class="pageno" id="Page_135">135</span> -rounding his period of long and -devoted public service to the administration -of this popular munificence -as President of the Peabody Normal -College and University of Nashville. -With every assurance of early success -he is now engaged in raising from the -State of Tennessee, the City of Nashville, -and by popular subscription, -$250,000 which, when attained, will -carry with it a permanent endowment -of a million dollars from the Peabody<span class="pageno" id="Page_136">136</span> -estate. President Porter is a man of -distinguished bearing and impressive -address.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_136.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">JAMES D. PORTER.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<h3 class="c022">Joseph W. Folk.</h3> - -<p class="c023">Missouri’s young governor has received -probably more free and favorable -publicity than any other citizen -of the Republic, and the public is so -well informed as to his life and record -that anything said of him here would -be merely cumulative and by way of -favorable repetition. It is gratifying -to command the approval of friends -and partisans, but it is a delicate and -trying obligation to have to live up to -the encomiums of non-partisans and -erstwhile opponents. With nothing but -good said of his ability and integrity, -Governor Folk’s position in politics, -which now has a decided national -aspect, presents a most interesting -field of speculation to the student of -politics and affairs.</p> - -<p class="c016">First coming into local prominence -in St. Louis as an able and fearless -criminal prosecutor whom a powerful -and never-before-thwarted partisan -political machine could not influence -or intimidate, Governor Folk developed -into national prominence through -his relentless warfare upon the local -boodling regime, his successes influencing -municipal reforms throughout -the country and rendering him so -strong with the masses of statesmen -regardless of political complexion, -that they triumphantly elevated him -to the gubernatorial station in the face -of an otherwise astonishing landslide -in the other direction.</p> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_137">137</span></div> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_137.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">JOSEPH W. FOLK.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_138">138</span></div> - -<p class="c016">Governor Folk is a native of Brownsville, -Tenn., where he was born about -thirty-seven years ago, and is a product -of purely Southern environment, rearing -and education. Graduating from -the Vanderbilt University law school -fifteen years ago, he started at about -the lowest and roughest rung of the -ladder, a struggling young country -lawyer in his native town. In quest -of opportunities more in keeping with -his talents and ambitions, he soon -joined the large Tennessee colony in -St. Louis, not long thereafter attaining -to some local notice as a political -leader by being elected president of the -representative Democratic organization.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_138.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">WARREN A. CANDLER.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">It is truly said that all great human -successes are a combination of fortuitous -circumstance, and the genius -to take advantage thereof. Governor -Folk’s mastery of a complicated -local situation wherein he represented -a supposed hopeless political movement, -turned seeming defeat into a -brilliant victory, and he was -elected District Attorney, since which -time his record is known to the country -at large.</p> - -<h3 class="c022">Warren A. Candler.</h3> - -<p class="c023">A virile and dominant figure in -Southern religious life is Rev. Warren -Akin Candler, youngest bishop of the -Methodist Episcopal Church, South. -Of a family probably second to none in -Georgia from the standpoint of the -prominence of its sons in public life in -that State to-day, Bishop Candler was -born forty-eight years ago in Carroll -County. Educated at Emory College, -from which he graduated with first -honors in 1875, he immediately entered -the ministry, ascending rapidly -the ladder of ecclesiastical promotion -from the humblest rural circuit to the -most influential urban charge. From -presiding elder of the Dahlonega and -Oxford districts he served for two years -in the editorial field as assistant editor -of the <i>Christian Advocate</i> in Nashville. -In 1888 he was called to the very large -activity of presiding over the destinies -of Emory College, his <i>alma mater</i>, -which institution enjoyed during the -decade of his administration its -highest period of strength and usefulness.</p> - -<p class="c016">With a distinguished record in all -vital departments of his church labors, -Bishop Candler’s early elevation to -the bishopric when barely past forty -years of age was a merited and logical -testimonial to his eminent capacity -for religious leadership and organization. -This exalted promotion came -to him at the hands of the Baltimore -Conference of 1898.</p> - -<p class="c016">Besides being a pulpit orator of -vigor and lucidity, Bishop Candler is -a luminous expositor of secular themes -and has rounded out a very busy career -by producing several well-known religious -and general publications, including -a “History of Sunday -Schools,” “Georgia’s Educational -Work,” “Christus Auctor,” “High Living -and High Lives,” and “Great Revivals -and the Great Republic.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Bishop Candler’s official residence -is Atlanta.</p> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_139">139</span></div> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_139.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">RICHMOND PEARSON HOBSON.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c018">Richmond Pearson Hobson, who contributes the following thoughtful paper to the -<span class="sc">Magazine</span>, is so well known to our readers that it is hardly necessary to say anything -here by way of comment upon his eventful history. Since his retirement from the navy, -Captain Hobson has devoted much attention to political affairs, and it is safe to predict -that his services to the public will be marked by the earnestness and devotion to duty -which brought him his well-merited fame as an officer in the United States navy.—<span class="sc">Ed.</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_140">140</span></div> - -<div> - <h2 class="c002">COTTON AND WAR.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>[Part of an address delivered by Mr. Hobson before the Cotton Growers’ -Association last January.]</div> - <div>By Richmond Pearson Hobson.</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-capa0_0_6 c015">The price of cotton, like other prices, -is settled by the relation of supply and -demand. In face of the sudden depression, -due to the increased volume -of supply in the large crop, we are -liable to overlook and underestimate -the importance of the factors influencing -the demand. Sojourning about -the world has convinced me that the -factors of demand are more pliable -and more accessible than those of -supply. In truth, a single factor reducing -demand, the war in the Orient, -is responsible for depression amounting -to from 7 to 8 cents a pound, while -the total depression due to the big -crop is scarcely more than 3 cents a -pound.</p> - -<p class="c016">Furthermore, the question of adjusting -the supply for the next year, -cannot be intelligently settled until -after investigation of the probable -demand.</p> - -<p class="c016">Therefore, I invite your attention -for a few minutes to the question of -demand, and especially to the factor -of war, since we are now in the presence -of the great struggle in the Orient.</p> - -<p class="c016">The old sources of demand, Europe -and America, have gone on slowly -increasing with the increase of population, -and the rise of the standard of -comfort, though a check was sustained -by the outbreak of the Boer War, -which saw a falling off of over one -million bales in the consumption of -the united commodities. This slow -increase in demand has been more -than balanced by the steady increase -in supply, coming chiefly from the -larger acreage and larger increase of -commercial fertilizers in the South. -Consequently, for several decades the -price of cotton has had a steady trend -downward. It was only when new -demands came from new markets that -the price started upward. The chief of -the new markets are those of the Orient. -Japan has made great strides in -the cotton mill industry, until at the -outbreak of the present war, she was -consuming over $50,000,000 worth of -cotton annually.</p> - -<p class="c016">But more important even than -Japan, has been the new market of -China, which, when the present war -came, amounted to $90,000,000 annually, -chiefly coarse cotton goods, -of which a large part has been furnished -by Southern mills.</p> - -<p class="c016">These two markets have come to -consume more cotton than is produced -by Alabama and Mississippi combined. -It is not surprising, therefore, that in -spite of the steadily increasing production, -the price has steadily risen. -The rise has been especially marked -since the Boxer disturbances that were -followed by a new impulsion in the -opening up of China.</p> - -<p class="c016">As great as this new market has become, -it is only in its infancy.</p> - -<p class="c016">If China were opened up, free to the -commerce of all nations, its four hundred -and thirty millions of industrial -people, would rise from a five cent -wage basis to a 20 cent, 30 cent, or -even 40 or 50 cent basis, and the average -man, instead of having his present -outfit of about a half suit of cotton -clothes, would have four or five whole -suits, which are pulled on in multiple -numbers, according to the coldness of -the day. This would so increase the -world’s demand for cotton that even -with a 20,000,000 bale crop, the price -could be hardly kept down to 20 cents -per pound.</p> - -<p class="c016">The picture here disclosed is not -visionary. Thousands of Chinese<span class="pageno" id="Page_141">141</span> -worked under my inspection for -months reconstructing gun-boats at -Hong Kong. The above estimates of -their industrial capacity are conservative. -Knowing both peoples, I do not -hesitate to say that the industrial -capacity of a Chinaman is far greater -than that of a Japanese, while there -are over ten times as many Chinese as -Japanese. Moreover, the facilities for -communication are advancing. The -eyes of the world have been thrown -upon China, and the point of the -wedge has been entered. A few decades -can see marvelous growth in -this young giant of a market. I estimate -that before this century is half -turned, China, properly opened up, -will add more than $5,000,000,000 -annually to the world’s commerce, and -one of the chief staples of this commerce -will be cotton, first the goods, -then the raw materials, creating a -consumption as great as that of all -Europe combined.</p> - -<p class="c016">But this greatest of all coming cotton -markets is the most sensitive and -the most exposed. When war broke -out in the Orient last year, it was clear -that Japan and Russia, under the exhaustion, -would decline in buying -power, and that the thriving cotton -trade of Manchuria would be cut off -entirely, while the fate of China might -become involved and endanger the -whole Chinese market. Consequently, -the day after war was declared, cotton -slumped 5 cents a pound, and started -on its downward path, going off nearly -8 cents a pound before indications -came in of the large crop, which -brought about a further decline of -about 3 cents a pound.</p> - -<p class="c016">The grievous depression we are passing -through must be attributed to -the war in the Orient. Without war -cotton would now be from 12 to 15 -cents per pound, even with the big -crop. Think what prosperity this -would have meant. Can anyone contend -that the United States should be -indifferent to this war? It may be -pointed out that our diplomatic moves -were masterful, both in getting the -powers to commit themselves to limiting -the war zone, and to preserving -the integrity of China, and also in negotiating, -by cable, treaties with China, -not Russia, opening up Mukden, -Dalny and Antung, in Manchuria, -thus recognizing Chinese sovereignty, -and placing the United States in the -same attitude as Japan, in standing -for the evacuation of Manchuria. Unfortunately, -our diplomatic moves had -but little deterrent effect, not being -backed by an adequate navy. Had -we possessed an adequate navy, I am -bold to say that Manchuria would have -been evacuated and the war would not -have come to disturb the earth and -bring the present depression over the -Southern people.</p> - -<p class="c016">It is hardly necessary to point out -that our losses already incurred would -have covered many fields over the -cost of such a navy.</p> - -<p class="c016">But as great as are these losses they -cannot compare with the greater losses -that may lie ahead, if the present -drift of events should go unchecked -and lead to a general war over the -division of China.</p> - -<p class="c016">Naturally, the Continental powers of -Europe do not wish to have to compete -with our industrial nation on the basis -of an equal footing in this great market. -They have, therefore, combined to -seize China by force, and partition it -among themselves, leaving the industrial -nations out.</p> - -<p class="c016">The first step taken in this direction -came at the conclusion of the war between -China and Japan, when the -Continental powers intervened to despoil -Japan of the fruits of victory, -preventing the consummation of the -treaty of Shimonosoki, that would -have ceded to Japan part of Manchuria, -including the Liaotung Peninsula -with Port Arthur. Soon Russia -came to occupy the same territory -wrested from Japan, Germany seized -Kiaochao, and part of the Shantung -Peninsula, Italy attempted to seize a -Chinese port, and France became -active on the frontier of Indo-China.</p> - -<p class="c016">The next step in the seizure of China -is planned for the present war. Indeed, -the seizure of China is the very -purpose of the war, and to this end -Russia is conducting her war operations.</p> - -<p class="c016">The chief aim of this year’s campaign<span class="pageno" id="Page_142">142</span> -has been to change the public -opinion of Europe. Thus it is that -Russia has conducted a pre-arranged -system of retreats, and that the inspired -press of Europe has raised the -hue and cry of “Yellow Peril,” with -such success that the peoples now -stand with their governments on the -side of Russia. The combination is -ready to move, and we can expect renewed -reports of Chinese violation, of -neutrality, of Chinese disturbances and -Japanese intrigues in China, Russia -reporting upon the affairs in Mongolia, -France upon the affairs in Kwangsi, -and Germany in Shantung and Chili. -The agents of these powers will probably -facilitate and exaggerate the Chinese -disturbances, and then upon the -pretext of preventing massacre and a -general Chinese uprising, the armies -by pre-arranged program will enter and -occupy the Provinces of China, never -again to leave.</p> - -<p class="c016">Opposition on the part of Great -Britain is evidently anticipated, and -the inexplicable seizure of British -ships, followed later by the inexplicable -firing upon British fishing vessels, -appears as part of a plan to excite -British indignation, so that at the -opportune moment, the British may -be the more easily provoked to commit -an act of war which would at once put -into operation the Russian treaty of alliance -with France, and this would be the -signal for Germany, Austria-Hungary -and Italy to join Russia and France.</p> - -<p class="c016">Thus the present war is producing a -grouping that imperils the balance of -power, placing a heavy preponderance -on the side of the military as against -the industrial nations or on the side of -war as against the peace forces. No -thoughtful observer can fail to see here -all the elements for a world war; nor -can we look except with alarm upon -the declination by the military powers -of the interstate to the proposed second -convention of The Hague, and the -Russian note complaining of alleged -violation of neutrality by China. It -is idle to imagine that the United -States, the foremost industrial power, -with more at stake in the Orient than -any nation, could look on with indifference.</p> - -<p class="c016">We should awaken to the full significance -of the events gathering in the -Orient. The two antagonistic systems, -militarism and industrialism, -are gathering for a death struggle. -The Orient is the battle ground—China -is the objective.</p> - -<p class="c016">If militarism succeeds in intrenching -itself upon the yellow race, securing -the myriads upon which to levy for -men and for means, then it will perpetuate -its harsh reign for centuries -yet to come.</p> - -<p class="c016">On the other hand, if thwarted in -obtaining the spoils of war and left -simply to a fair competition, militarism -will be unable to hold its own, and will -be driven to the wall, and be compelled -to disarm by the great economic -forces of commerce and industry, and -we can then confidently expect the -establishment of general and enduring -peace long ere this century is gone.</p> - -<p class="c016">What would be the effect upon -cotton?</p> - -<p class="c016">If peace is restored and maintained, -cotton will start again upon its upward -course and in a few years, with -such a vast demand as China would -create, I am conservative in saying -that the price would pass the 20 cent -mark, and remain above this mark, no -matter how large the crop.</p> - -<p class="c016">On the other hand, if events are allowed -to drift on and a general war -comes, cotton would become a drug -on the market, even though reduced -acreage, calamity and distress would -spread over the South. Indeed, with -militarism uppermost, wars and rumors -of wars would continually disturb -the world, nations would be exhausted -and lose in their buying capacity, -and the myriads of helpless peoples -would pass under the military yoke -and remain unable to buy clothing. -The greatest source of Southern prosperity -would be permanently blighted, -and a serious blow would be struck -at the general prosperity of America, -and at the happiness of mankind.</p> - -<p class="c016">Under these circumstances, when it -is a question of 3½ cent cotton or 25 -cent cotton, I do not hesitate to say -that the solid influence of the South -should be felt for having our country -act promptly and vigorously, to use<span class="pageno" id="Page_143">143</span> -every proper means to restore the -balance of the world on the side of -peace, and to bring about the ending -of the present war and the restoration -of Manchuria to the commerce of the -world.</p> - -<p class="c016">It only remains for us to refer summarily -to the factors of supply. It is -practically certain that the South will -continue to produce the bulk of the -world’s cotton. During the Civil War, -when cotton was over $1.00 a pound, -persistent efforts were made all over -the world to develop cotton growing, -but in vain. The Gulf Stream on one -side, and a vast continent on the other, -produce climatic conditions for cotton -culture not duplicated anywhere else -in the world. We may expect some -increase in the output of Egypt on -account of developing irrigation, and -possibly a temporary increase in the -output of India, and other secondary -sources due to the recent high price, -but the present depression will tend to -check this movement. Therefore, the -South may be expected to continue -to produce over 80 per cent of the -world’s supply so that the question of -supply lies in our own hands.</p> - -<p class="c016">The two factors in determining the -supply are the seasons and the acreage. -While the general law of the average -holds, history shows that the temperate -zone is liable to wide fluctuations -in seasons, which it is impossible to -foresee. The recourse to offset the -unhappy consequences of wide fluctuations -is a reservoir or fly-wheel, into -which the fat years can pour their -supplies for making up the deficit of -the lean years. The uncertainty of -cotton demand, hinging upon war or -peace, is now added to the uncertainty -of the cotton season. Recourse to -storage is therefore absolutely necessary, -and a wide system of warehouse -storage should be created. I will not -endeavor to go into the details of such -a system, but venture to suggest that -it should be organized on bedrock -principles, and operate on the securest -lines, so that a warehouse certificate -would be absolutely safe and universally -negotiable. Lessons could probably -be learned from the systems in -use in pig iron storage, where the -market is also subject to wide fluctuations. -The American Pig Iron Storage -Warehouse Co. would probably -be the best pattern.</p> - -<p class="c016">The factors of acreage should be -carefully investigated before any radical -action is taken.</p> - -<p class="c016">I know it is best for a farmer to have -a diversified crop as it is best for a city -to have diversified industries, and it -is wise for a farmer, like a nation, to produce -the necessities required for home -consumption. The present fearful depression -will doubtless have a partial -benefit in this direction, but I fear too -much importance is now being given -to this question. While I would urge -the farmers to diversify their crops, I -would hesitate to recommend a sweeping -reduction in the world’s production. -In fact, as an economic principle, -there can be no such thing as over -production at this stage of the world’s -progress, particularly in the great -world’s staples, like those of food -and clothing. For generations to come -mankind, on the whole, will go hungry -and half naked. The true principle is -not to try to reduce the product but to -provide for a general increasing buying -capacity and particularly for the case -of the undeveloped peoples of the -earth, by increasing their opportunities -to work for the world’s market, -and to make the wages necessary to -purchase the products. If we could -only be sure that peace is to prevail, -so that the market of China would be -restored, and could go on increasing, -I would not hesitate to urge against -any reduction in acreage. On the -contrary, I would urge a steady increase, -for no matter how great the -increase, the supply would never keep -up with the growth of demand. As -conditions now stand, however, I believe -conservative action is advisable—action -that would lean rather toward -the side of preparation to store up for -future use the surplus, if war should -come, than to materially reduce the -acreage, and my advice to the individual -farmer is to become independent -and diversify his crop, and then plant -his usual acreage in cotton.</p> - -<p class="c016">It may be pointed out that one -effective way to offset the losses from<span class="pageno" id="Page_144">144</span> -low-priced cotton is for the South to -invest more and more in cotton mills, -that benefit from these prices, and the -logic of the situation would have -cotton growers invest their available -capital and saving in cotton manufacture. -The true aim of the South -should be not only to produce the -cotton, but the clothing for the world. -And every country in the South should -have cotton mill industries organized -with local capital and should develop -and educate its labor for the high -grades as well as coarse.</p> - -<p class="c016">Summing up, the general conclusions -and recommendations are as follows:</p> - -<p class="c016">1. The cotton growers should have -a wide, permanent organization with -a general convention once a year.</p> - -<p class="c016">2. A standing committee composed -of, say, two members for each cotton -growing state, should be appointed to -investigate and report each year upon -the existing and prospective conditions -of supply of cotton.</p> - -<p class="c016">3. A similar committee should be -appointed to investigate and report -each year upon the existing and prospective -conditions of the demand for -cotton.</p> - -<p class="c016">4. There should be established a -comprehensive and carefully organized -storage warehouse system.</p> - -<p class="c016">5. The great agents for increasing -the price of cotton are <i>peace</i>, prosperity -and civilization.</p> - -<p class="c016">6. The arch-enemy of the cotton -growers is <i>war</i>. The permanent cause -of cotton must look to the peoples beyond -the sea, especially China. The -fate of China hangs upon peace or -war—peace or war depends upon America—America’s -influence depends upon -her navy.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2 class="c002">THE MASTER-HAND.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>BY GARNET NOEL WILEY</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">Sometimes at half-mast, all my hours</div> - <div class="line in2">A drooping banner seem to lie</div> - <div class="line">In listless folds, along the calm,</div> - <div class="line in2">Still blue of boundless stagnancy.</div> - <div class="line">Grieving, I think, because somewhat</div> - <div class="line in2">Within my soul is near to die.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">Enow the master-hand of Love</div> - <div class="line in2">Plucks at my banner’s guiding string,</div> - <div class="line">Until it flutters in the breeze,</div> - <div class="line in2">And pulses like a living thing.</div> - <div class="line">Joyous, I think, because somewhat</div> - <div class="line in2">Within my soul hath need to sing.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - <span class="pageno" id="Page_145">145</span> - <h2 class="c002">THE BOY IN GRAY.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>By Will N. Harben, Author of “Abner Daniel.”</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="drop-capa0_0_6 c015">One day in midsummer I went -to visit the old plantation of -the Lansdale family. The -moment I entered the cooling -shade of the tall trees on the lawn -something seemed to tell me that I was -on a spot hallowed by human suffering -and misfortune.</p> - -<p class="c016">The house had two stories and an L. -There was a long veranda in front, the -roof of which was supported by large -white columns. My interest in the -place was due to the fact that prior to -the Civil War it had been the rendezvous -of the aristocracy for miles -around it. The wide halls and spacious -rooms had once rung with gay -laughter, sweet music and the tripping -of feet in merry dances.</p> - -<p class="c016">Behind the uninhabited dwelling -the shrubbery had grown into a riotous -tangle. Choice rose bushes had been -dwarfed and choked to barrenness by -an army of interlopers—Jamestown -weeds, hollyhocks and giant sunflowers. -Only here and there might be -seen a pale-leaved geranium or a dandelion -in the edges of the gravel walks, -now almost completely overgrown. -Here, bent to the earth, lay a decayed -lattice, pulled down by a fragrant -jasmine; in another place stood the -rotten remains of what had once been -a graceful summerhouse.</p> - -<p class="c016">As I wended my way further from -the old mansion the silence and shade -seemed to thicken and blend into the -pervading melancholy. When about -two hundred yards from the house, I -suddenly came upon a log cabin almost -hidden from view behind a close -growth of gnarled and twisted apple -trees. In the door sat an old negro -man. His face was pinched and -wrinkled and his eyes, peeping through -their brown slits, looked like blue -beads. With his old bell-shaped hat -on his knee, he glanced up in surprise, -and, rising quickly he hobbled towards -me, bowing politely.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Who dis heer?” he asked, as he -shaded his eyes with his hand and -peered up at me. “It seems like I -don’t know you, but you may know -who I is. Most white folks knows me, -dough, thank de Lawd! I carn’t see you -good, suh; my sight is failin’ me -powerful fast.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“I’m a stranger in this part of the -South,” I told him. “I have heard so -much about the Lansdale family that -I wanted to see their old home; that’s -all. I hope I’m not intruding.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Lawdamussy, bless you, no, suh!” -he replied quickly. “You is welcome -to roam ’round all you want. Ef -’twuz des in de ol’ time, suh, my young -marster, er my ol’ marster, would -done met you down de carriage drive -an’ ’scort’ you in an’ took yo’ hat an’ -pass roun’ de wine an’ cigars, but” -(a long sigh escaped his lips, and he -shook his head sadly), “but dat time -done gone, suh—dat time done gone.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Tell me something about your -master’s family,” I said, taking a chair -near his own at the cabin door. “I -have heard that Mr. Lansdale’s only -son was killed during the war when he -was hardly more than a child.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Dat so, suh,” the old man answered -in a tender tone, as he sat down in his -chair and leaned it back against the -wall. “Dat was Marse Eddie. He -wasn’t fifteen year old when he ’listed. -It all come o’ him actually itchin’ ter -be a soldier from his cradle up. Long -’fo’ de war was ever start up, when he -wasn’t ten year old he had soldierin’ in -his head, an’ nobody couldn’t stop ’im. -His maw say he wouldn’t study his -school books lessen dey tell ’bout wars<span class="pageno" id="Page_146">146</span> -an’ bloodshed. Away back den Marse -Eddie’s soldierin’ was de chief talk -’mongst de slaves.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_146.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">“He wasn’t fifteen year old when he ’listed.”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">“He didn’t keer fur hosses, ur fishin’, -ur huntin’ like other boys, but ef you -des mention soldierin’ -he would -pick up his ears an’ -open his eyes. He -used to had his -army, an’ what you -reckon dat army -was made out’n, -suh? Nothin’, -’cept ten ur ’leven -pickaninnies in deir -shut-tails an’ bare -laigs. But, suh, -dey would march -round dis plantation -tell dey raidy -to drap in deir -tracks to please dat -boy. An’ dey didn’t -know no mo’ -’bout what a rail -army was dan a -blind kitten. But -’fore he got thoo -wid um, Marse Eddie -had um trained -so dey will march -straight in er -breast-line, ur -wheel round, double-quick -step, an’ -charge bayonets -when he give de -command des de -same as reg’lar -troups.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Des as soon as -he had his breakfust -in de mawnin’ -Marse Eddie ’ud -tramp out’n de -house wid his hat -pinned up on one -side an’ his pants -stuck in his red-top -boots an’ old Miss’ -shawl flung acrost -his shoulder to make ’im look like a -general.</p> - -<p class="c016">“He would al’ays find his army at -de front do’ pushin’ an’ kickin’ one -’nother, all um tryin’ to be haid in de -row. But when dey see ’im dey stand -mighty quiet kase he done whacked -deir laigs too often wid his stick -sword. Den Marse Eddie ud stand -on de veranda wid his maw ur Miss -Grace long side o’ -him while he call -de roll. It uster -sound mighty funny -’fo’ any of us -know how it was -gwine to end.</p> - -<p class="c016">“James Lansdale! -Heer! -Thomas Lansdale! -Heer! Abrum -Lansdale! Heer! -Tobe Lansdale! -Heer! an’ so on -dey all answered -deir names. Old -Marster listen to -’em one day while -he was smokin’ on -de veranda an’ low -to ’im, he did—des -jokin’: ’Son’, he -say, smilin’ like he -al’ays did, ’I do -hope an’ pray you -won’t have no diverses -in battle, -kase it would be -too bad to had we-all’s -kin-folks in -Firginny read in de -papers dat so many -Lansdales is kilt in -war. Seem like -dey is a sight of um -in yo’ army.’</p> - -<p class="c016">“Young Marster -didn’t say nothin’ -but it sorter made -’im mad. He got -raid in de face, an -ordered de string o’ -darkies to shoulder -deir stick guns an’ -march off todes de -spring-house, whar -he say he count on -campin’ out an’ ’rangin’ ’bout buildin’ -abridge cross de branch so dey kin -git at de enemy prowlin’ round. Dat’s -de way he carried on, an’ all de darkies -in his crowd held deir haids so high<span class="pageno" id="Page_147">147</span> -dey wouldn’t speak to de niggers on -de place j’inin’ we-all’s plantation, an’ -dey got so triflin’ dat dey wasn’t fittin’ -fur anything but fightin’ under Marse -Eddie.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Miss Grace cert’ney did keer mo -fur her brother dan she did fur anything -in de worl’, even de young mens -dat come to see ’er. Anything Marse -Eddie do is des right. She made ’im -his newniform, an’ flags, an’ his raid -sash, an’ gloried in ’im.</p> - -<p class="c016">“He was off in Firginny at his uncle’s -when de sho-nough war broke -out. Old Marster had done made up -his company in we-all’s settlement an’ -was most raidy to go. De very same -day dat de guns come dat dey was -waitin’ on, who shall ride up on a hoss -des reekin’ wid sweat but Marse Eddie. -He lef’ de hoss in de front yard an’ -run in de dinin’ room whar his maw -an’ sister was. He kissed um mighty -quick an’ strange like an’ den say, -‘Whar is father?’</p> - -<p class="c016">“Old Miss an’ young Miss bofe turn -pale an’ trembly, but dey ain’t say a -word at fust. Den Marse Eddie say -powerful impatient, ‘Grace, whar is -father?’</p> - -<p class="c016">“‘He’s down in de quarter,’ she -say an’ den when de boy done lef’ de -room most as quick as a skeerd rabbit -kin jump, de two women look one -’nother in de face fer a long time powerful -still an’ troubled. Den old Miss -say, mighty husky in ’er throat:</p> - -<p class="c016">“‘He must not go, Grace; I carn’t -stand it; he’s too young—I carn’t -stand dat!’</p> - -<p class="c016">“De tears was comin’ in young -Miss’ eyes an’ she left ’er maw an’ -went an’ stood in de kitchen do’ to -meet Marse Eddie an’ his paw as dey -was comin’ up de garden walk, talkin’ -low an’ arm in arm. Somehow young -Marster looked like he was all at once -as old an’ ’sponsible as his paw. -When dey was bofe in de house, Miss -Grace tuck ’er brurr by de arm an’ -led ’im off to one side, an’ I heer ’er -say:</p> - -<p class="c016">“‘Brurr Eddie, father is goin’ off -to fight de Yankees an’ me’n mother -carn’t live by ourse’ves. You must -stay wid us—one is enough to lose.’</p> - -<p class="c016">“‘Oh, sister,’ Marse Eddie say, very -impatient. ‘Don’t talk nonsense at -sech a serious moment. Father, did -you say all yo’ men gwine be raidy -in de mawnin’? We must not had no -mistakes. I’m not tired. I believe -I’ll git a fresh hoss an’ ride round -mongst ’em.’</p> - -<p class="c016">“Well, suh, dat was de end o’ de -women folks tryin’ to ’fluence ’im. -It seem to me dat he was every bit an’ -grain as sensible as his pa. It look -like Marster was too backward ’bout -tryin’ to make ’im stay at home. -De next day all marched off an’ dey -tuck all de men slaves ’cep’ me. Dey -lef’ me kase I was too lame to march -an’ somebody had to stay at home.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Den a whole year went by. Sometimes -letters ud come an’ sometimes -word ud reach us in one way an’ another. -Den old Miss tuck down sick, -an’ Miss Grace kept all de bad news -from ’er ’bout de war. Den come a -letter from Marse Eddie hisse’f. He -writ dat he is a little wounded in de -arm an’ dat he got a furlough to come -home an’ will be wid us as soon as he -kin git thoo de lines. But de time -went by, day in, day out fur a week -an’ no mo’ news ’cep’ old Marster writ -dat de boy is done put out fur home -some time back; so dar we is—old -Marster say he ain’t in de war, an’ -he ain’t got to we-all.</p> - -<p class="c016">“While we-all in dis fix an’ worriment, -de Yankee army des swoop -down on us lake a swarm o’ grass-hoppers. -Dar wasn’t a single Rebel ’cep’ -women folks an’ me anywhars around. -Den we know dat Marse Eddie is cut -off fum us. While de Yankees is -camped round us as thick as fleas, -a old man come to us, he did, an’ said -he’d met up wid Marse Eddie one day -up in de mountains what you kin see -over dar, an’ ’at he was mighty nigh -starved to death an’ unable to git -stuff to eat.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Marse Eddie tol’ de man ’at he’d -started home on his furlough but was -tuck down sick at a house on de way, -an’ when he got so he could travel an’ -come nigh home de Yankees done -s’round us so he earn’t git home nur -back to his regiment nuther. So he -was des obleeged to stay hidin’ out -in de woods like a wild animal. Dis<span class="pageno" id="Page_148">148</span> -news got, to ol’ Miss, an’ it made her -wuss an’ we ’lowed she gwine die sho’.</p> - -<p class="c016">“One night I woke up kase I heerd -somebody walkin’ on de porch, an’ -when I went to de do’ dar is young -Miss standin’ dar lookin’ to’ds de -Yankee camp what you could see fum -de’r fires dey kept burnin’ so we -couldn’t slip up on um an’ throttle -um in de’r sleep.</p> - -<p class="c016">“‘Don’t tell mother, Ham’ she say; -‘po’ thing, she’s very sick, an’ we -mustn’t ’sturb ’er. I carn’t sleep wid -all dis on my mind. How do we know, -Ham, but my po’ brother may be dis -minute in gre’t danger? I must keep -watch kase I know in reason he’ll try to -pass thoo de lines some night to get to -we-all’s, an’, Ham, somebody must -be up to receive ’im an’ hide ’im less’n -dey catch ’im an’ try to kill ’im.’</p> - -<p class="c016">“She was alraidy a-cryin’, an’ I -didn’t have de heart to tell ’er how -dangersome it was to try to pass -guards on picket duty, kase I had -heerd ’bout one po’ feller gittin’ daylight -let thoo ’im while he was tryin’ -to do it on his all-fours.</p> - -<p class="c016">“It was as still, suh, dat night as a -graveyard. De wind wasn’t blowin’ -’nough to move a blade o’ wavy grass. -An’ all of a sudden I heerd a sound -way down de road like somebody’s -feet—pit-pat, pit-pat, comin’ nigher -an’ nigher. Den we heer somebody -a-pantin’ mighty nigh out’n breath.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Young Miss laid ’er han’ on ’er -breast an’ breathed hard. De sound -kept gittin’ closer an’ closer tell all -at once somebody sprung over de -fence into de yard. My Gawd, it was -Marse Eddie, an’ no dead white pusson -could look paler’n he did an’ so thin -an’ raggety.</p> - -<p class="c016">“‘Grace,’ he say, blowin hard, ‘is -dis you? My Gawd, sister, dey is -atter me. I started to slip thoo de -lines an’ dey seed me an’ so I had to -run fur my life. Do you heer um?’</p> - -<p class="c016">“We all listen an’ sho ’nough we -heerd de Yankees comin’ as fast as -dey kin lick it. Young Miss carn’t -speak; she des throwed ’er arms ’roun -’er brurr’s neck an’ tried to pull ’im -in de house. But he say, ‘No, no; I -mus’ run furder; dey gwine s’arch dis -house fust place, kase we-all fur de -Souf—good-bye!’ an’ ’fo’ Miss Grace -could open ’er mouf he’s off thoo de -woods an’ out o’ sight in de dark, -dough he wasn’t runnin’ out’n a slow -dog-trot kase he was too broke down. -In a minute ’bout ten men jump de -fence an’ come to us.</p> - -<p class="c016">“‘Here he is!’ one of um say, an’ he -stuck a pistol in my face fur de worl’ -like he gwine blow my brains out. -Dis was a sho ’nough s’prise to me, I -tell you, fur it was a powerful good -chance fur young Miss ter tell um, -yes, I was de one, an’ git um to stop -runnin’ after her brurr. I didn’t -know what she was gwine to do ’bout -it, but it didn’t suit me one bit. I -never seed de line o’ pickets I’d try to -run thoo, an’ my time hadn’t come -to die nohow.</p> - -<p class="c016">“But one of de men say, ‘No, it was -a white man, an’ a reb to boot kase I -seed his face an’ his newniform. Dis -is des a’ ol’ nigger dat stays ’roun’ dis -house.’ Den he up an’ ’dress young -Miss. ‘Young lady,’ he ax ’er, ‘is a -man pass heer des now?’</p> - -<p class="c016">“Well, suh, I ’lowed she wouldn’t -find ’er tongue, she was so bad put -out, but she up an’ say: ‘No, suh, not -sence I been standin’ here,’ an’ she say -it as cool as ef she was des givin’ ’im -a passin’ s’lute. But I reckon dat -officer seed thoo ’er kase he said: -‘Some o’ you fellers run down dat -way an’ fo’ of us will s’arch de house. -Miss,’ he say to Miss Grace, ‘we all -know you is fur de downfall o’ de republic, -an’ you mus’ ’scuse me fur not -takin’ yo’ word, but we is been fooled -so many times by you women in de -Souf dat we got to be partic’lar.’</p> - -<p class="c016">“Wid dat, fo’ of um go thoo we-all’s -house fum bottom to top an’ ol’ Miss -was mighty nigh ’stracted. She riz -bodily fum ’er bed an’ fronted um. -It was a big wonder to me dat dem -Yankees ain’t shot ’er daid in ’er -tracks fur de way she belittled um.</p> - -<p class="c016">“‘You dirty gang o’ raid-hand murderers -an’ cut-th’oats,’ she say, ‘I hope -an’ pray high heaven will fall down on -you an’ crush you in everlastin’ punishment. -You ain’t satisfied wid takin’ -our sons an’ husbands fum us, but -you must go an’ tromple our houses -wid yo’ muddy feet an’ fo’ce yo’ ugly<span class="pageno" id="Page_149">149</span> -se’ves into de sick rooms o’ yo’ betters. -Dat shows yo’ raisin’; no Southern -gen’man ain’t gwine be so brutish.’</p> - -<p class="c016">“‘Now, madam,’ de leader say as -cool as a watermelon in a deep spring, -‘des keep on yo’ jacket. You ketch -yo’ death wid cold, A sudden change -fum a warm bed is a bad thing whar -doctors is so scarce, anyhow. You -better not ’cite yo’se’f—’twon’t do -a speck o’ good, an’ in fact you ain’t -lookin’ well. You act sorter s’picious. -Ef dar is a spy in yo’ house we gwine -have ’im fur our meat, an’ all yo’ -rampageousness won’t stop us. -Dough, I make bold to say, madam, -dat we-all ud like to have you on we-all’s -side. At close range dat tongue -o’ yo’n ud beat a grape-gun all holler.’</p> - -<p class="c016">“Ol’ Miss didn’t say anything back. -She looked out’n ’er eyes, dough, like -you seed a balkin’ mule ’fo’ now, -mebby, when his laigs is been tied together -to break ’im fum kickin’ an’ -you stan’ hind ’im wid a whip an’ -sorer tap ’im in de flank atter he found -out he earn’t kick ’nough to skeer a -hoss-fly off’n his back.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Well, dey all go plumb thoo de -house widout a speck ur luck, ’cep’ -what dey come acrost in de cupboard. -When dey et all dey want an’ is raidy -to go, de head man say to ol’ Miss: -‘Madam,’ he say, lookin’ at me kinder -’chievous, ‘we got some work in de -camp to be done an’ dis ol’ nigger -mus’ go an’ tend to it. We’ll sen’ -’im back in de mawnin’ sho ef he -gits thoo.’</p> - -<p class="c016">“Dat ain’t de fust time I had to do -odd jobs fur um, an’ I ain’t s’prised. -I had to march back wid one lill -swivelly white man dat I could a-mashed -twixt my fingers like a skeeter, -an’ I would a-tried it, too, ef he hadn’t -kep’ a musket level’ on me de whole -time. De other soldiers went on after -Marse Eddie.</p> - -<p class="c016">“He’s a spy,’ I heer um say, as dey -went off, ’an’ he carn’t git away, -nuther, kase he is s’rounded on all -sides an’ day is breakin’.’</p> - -<p class="c016">“By de time we got to de camp de -sun was ’ginnin’ to rise an’ a kettle -drummer was out wakin’ um all up -wid his clatter. I had to he’p wash -dishes at de officer’s tent, an’ all dat -mawnin’ I heerd um axin’ one another -is de spy done kotch. To’ds -dinner de men all come back an’ wid -um was po’ Marse Eddie. He was so -weakly dey had to mos’ drap ’im -along. Pon my word, I don’t b’lieve -de boy know who had ’im; he looked -so wild out o’ his raid eyes.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Dey tuck ’im to a big tent an’ all -de officers got in it and held a court -martial—dat’s what dey called it. I -couldn’t heer a word dat passed, but -de Lawd know I seed Marse Eddie -was in a bad fix, kase dey was makin’ -sech a big to-do.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Terrectly dey all come out de tent. -De haid man ’mongst um give a order -an’ ’bout ten men come up wid deir -guns an’ formed a line o’ battle. Den -dey marched Marse Eddie out wid his -back to a tree. You know, suh, I kin -’member when young Miss an’ ’im -used to go to dat selfsame sweetgum -when dey was lill. He used to take -his knife an’ gouge out de gum an’ put -it twixt ’er white teeth an’ she’s say, -‘Quick, Brurr Eddie, give me some -dat’s hard ’fo’ my teeth stick together—dis -heer is too saft.’</p> - -<p class="c016">“Den young Marster ud take some -o’ de dry gum in his fingers, kase it -wouldn’t lay on de knife-blade, an’ -when he’d make ’er shet ’er eyes he’d -drap it in ’er mouf. Yes, suh, I kin -’member dat as plain as ef ’twas -yesterday.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Well, when dey got de po’ droopy -young man agin de tree, an’ yell at -’im to hold his haid up, all de big, -strappin’ soldiers stand in front an’ -de captain drilled um. All deir clothes -looked so blue an’ deir buttons an -shoulder straps flashed in de sun like -a lookin’-glass in de light. Seem like -I kin heer de same locust a-singin’ in -de woods right now dat was singin’ -den. De sky was blue, an’ wide open, -des like Gawd Almighty done tore de -clouds apart so Marse Eddie’s white -soul could git away fum dat measly -crowd o’ blood-thirsty cowards. I -knowed I couldn’t do a thing to help -’im, an’ I tried to hold steady an’ take -one las’ look at my young Marster, -but I couldn’t see any plainer dan you -kin thoo a frosty window. But when -de captain say, ‘Raidy, take aim!’ I<span class="pageno" id="Page_150">150</span> -looked away. De guns all went off -wid one crack, an’ when de smoke is -ris’ a lill, I seed Marse Eddie settin’ -on de groun’ agin de tree wid his haid -down des fur de world like I seed ’im -one day when he’d been watchin’ us -cut wheat an’ got drowsy an’ fell -asleep in de shade.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Dey tuck ’im off to bury ’im, an’ -I went back to work; but I couldn’t -do it jestice, an’ kept drappin’ de -dishes an’ pans, I was so outdone -thinkin’ ’bout de folks at home. Den -de captain pass me an’ say: ‘Look -heer, what you snifflin’ ’bout? Did -you know dis young man?’</p> - -<p class="c016">“An’ when I told ’im yesser, dat -captain got mighty serious in de face -an’ yell out to de rest um, ‘Why didn’t -you-all had dis man testify?’</p> - -<p class="c016">“But nobody wouldn’t answer. -Den de captain set down nigh me an’ -I could see his hands was tremblin’ -powerful. He talked low like he was -sorter ashamed. An’ he ax me: ‘Who -is de young man? Whar do he live?’</p> - -<p class="c016">“I told ’im Marse Eddie was my -young Marster an’ at he was s’rounded -in de mountains when he was tryin’ -to git home on his furlough, wid his -so’ arm, an’ sick an’ hungry.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Well, suh, I hain’t never had too -much use fur Yankees, but dat one’s -face cert’ney did look troubled.</p> - -<p class="c016">“‘Gawd furgive us,’ he say, dat’s -what he said, ‘and we-all thought he -was lyin’ to git free;’ an’ he most -stagger as he walked off. Den I heer -’im order um not to bury Marse Eddie -yit but to wait. Dey fixed ’im as nice -as dey kin on a litter an’ put a new -gray blanket on ’im an’ send ’im off -to we-all’s place, kase I reckon dey -lowed dey had done all de damage dey -kin an’ thought it would be a kindness -to old Miss to bury ’er own child.</p> - -<p class="c016">“After dey done gone, I heer de -captain say: ‘Dis is a mistaken duty. -I’d ruther myse’f lie on dat litter. -Heaven is gwine to curse dis bloodshed, -Lieutenant,’ he say to a spry -young man. ‘Lieutenant, you know’ -what we-all shot dat po’ boy fur? -We shot ’im kase he come home -wounded to see his fair-faced sister -back on dat plantation, an’ his old bedridden -mother. Lieutenant, let dat -be a lesson to you. Dat letter in his -pocket wasn’t no spy-letter. It was -des to his pa back in de army of de -Souf tellin’ ’im he was nigh his home. -When he writ he was tryin’ to git thoo -de lines it wasn’t to spy. Yo’ maw’s -a-livin’, ain’t she, Lieutenant?’ De -young man nodded his haid, an’ den -de captain went on agi’n: ‘Well, des -put yo’se’f in dis young man’s place -an’ den you gwine see how yo’ maw -ud feel to had you sent home dat away.’</p> - -<p class="c016">“Wid all de ’sturbance, it seemed -like dey done furget dat I ort to be at -home wid my white folks at sech a’ -awful time, an’ dey kep’ me till long -atter dinner. Den who shall come -right in de camp ’cep’ young Miss? I -never in all my days seed sech a look -as was in her face. Seemed like she -was in ’er sleep, ur out’n ’er mind, ur -suppin another. It looked like all -de officers in de camp wanted to hide -out, but de captain was man enough -to face ’er an’ went right up to whar -she was.</p> - -<p class="c016">“‘I come to see de spot whar de -young Confederate died dis mawnin’, -if you please,’ she said, as cool as I -ever seed young Miss in my life, dough -’er eyes was flashin’ like diamonds -in de sun.</p> - -<p class="c016">“‘Young lady,’ de captain say, -mighty white in de face, ‘dis is a po’ -time to ’spress regrets, but Gawd -knows dis is a gre’t mistake. I’d -ruther be daid myse’f. I pray Gawd -to furgive us. We acted too quick. -De evidence showed dat yo’ brother -was a spy, an’ we never knowed no -better till it was all over.’</p> - -<p class="c016">“‘I did not come to discuss his -death,’ young Miss said mighty haughty. -‘I des want to see de spot whar -he fell. We-all is grateful fer his -remains—sometimes it ain’t done, -I believe.’</p> - -<p class="c016">“‘Young Miss,’ I said to ’er, ‘come, -le’s go back home; dey will let me go -wid you.’</p> - -<p class="c016">“Den she looked at me fur de fus -time. ‘Was you heer, Ham?’ she -say; ‘den you’ll do; you kin show me -’dout troublin’ dese gentlemen. Show -me whar my brurr fell, an’ den I’ll -go back to mother. I was des afraid -de army would march off an’ I never -would know de exact spot whar de -outrage happened.’</p> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_151">151</span></div> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_151.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">“When she passed ’im she tuck out a copper piece an’ drap it in his hat.”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_152">152</span></div> - -<p class="c016">“Den I led ’er to’des de sweetgum -an’ p’int it out. She des took one -look at it, an’ den she put ’er han’ -over ’er face an’ said in a awful low -voice: ‘Le’s go quick, Ham,’ an’ I -knowed she was afeerd she’d break -down ’fo’ dem low-lived soldiers, an’ -dat she’d druther be daid ’an to do it. -All de way home she ain’t open ’er lips.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Well, to close my tale, when old -Marster come home after de war was -over ol’ Miss was daid. It seems a -long time ago. Young Miss an’ ’er -pa went to Richmond to live, whar he -had a lill property dat ’scaped de -Yankee’s hands. She turned out to -be a gre’t lady an’ had big men—governors -an’ congressmen runnin’ -atter her to git ’er to marry um. De -funniest thing of all was de way dat -Yankee captain did after de war was -over; I heer some o’ my white folks -say he writ two dozen letters to young -Miss. He told ’er in um dat she was -the onliest woman he ever laid eyes on -dat completely tuck his heart and -he say ’twas all kase she had so -much pride and fine sperit. He -begged ’er to let by-gones be by-gones -an’ let ’im come down to Richmond -an’ ’splain, but she didn’t so much -as answer de letters an’ got so she -sent um back to ’im dout openin’ um. -Dey say he managed to meet ’er at a -big dinner somebody give up in Richmond -an’ was introduced to ’er. Of -co’se, young Miss was too much of a -lady to ’suit ’im when dey bofe visitin’ -de same house, so she bowed to ’im an’ -’changed a few words, but she left de -house an’ called her carriage. Dat’s -what my white folks done tole me; -I dunno, but it cert’ney was like young -Miss. Dey say dat treatment didn’t -faze dat captain, he was so dead bent -on gittin’ ’er fur his wife; so one day, -some time atter dat, he follered ’er -to a big chu’ch in Richmond, whar she -went to worship. Dey say it had high -steps to it, an’ when she come out’n -de do’ she seed ’im at de foot o’ de -steps waitin’ fur ’er, wid his hat helt -out in his hand. Well, suh, what you -reckon young Miss did? She had her -purse in ’er hand wid some small -change in it, an’ when she passed ’im -she tuck out a copper piece an’ drap -it in his hat widout so much as lookin’ -at ’im, des as ef he was a begger. Dey -say dat settled ’im. He went off an’ -never bothered ’er again.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Did she marry? Yes, suh, she did, -fer she had pickin’ choice o’ de whole -country, Norf an’ Souf. She married -a big rich man in Richmond, an’ she’s -got some o’ de likeliest childern in de -world. Her pa is dar doin’ well, too; -dey send me money every now an’ -den an’ wish me well. Dey is folks -right, suh, an’ ef you ever run across -um you’ll know I’m tellin’ you de -trufe.”</p> - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2 class="c002">SONG.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>BY ROBERT LOVEMAN.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">Drenched in the dew of tender tears,</div> - <div class="line in2">A song doth blossom in my heart;</div> - <div class="line">The trembling words are fraught with fears,</div> - <div class="line in2">The melody is love’s sweet art.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">O, to my lady, song, away!</div> - <div class="line in2">Be thou my courier, true and fleet,</div> - <div class="line">Mesh her in music all the day,</div> - <div class="line in2">Then die in fragrance at her feet.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - <span class="pageno" id="Page_153">153</span> - <h2 class="c002">THE PEOPLE OF THE SOUTHERN MILLS.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>A HOPEFUL SIDE TO LIFE IN THE FACTORY COMMUNITIES.</div> - <div>By Leonora Beck Ellis.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="drop-capa0_0_6 c015">While the political economist -knits his brows in -perplexity over the immoderate -increase of cotton -mills in the Southern States, and -the social reformer cries vehemently -against their child labor and low adult -wages, these problems are solving -themselves by natural processes which -man’s economics or sociological theories -can neither hurry nor retard.</p> - -<p class="c016">Cotton manufacturing has traversed -the road to its base of supply, and can -no more be severed from it again than -the descending rivulet can turn and -run up hill. Child labor is only a complicated -error of new conditions, and -will in due process fall to inevitable -decay. The wage problem mutates -everywhere, yet optimism assures us -that it bears steadily towards solution.</p> - -<p class="c016">But the mill people of the South are -a new and picturesque labor class. -Some glimpses of their homes and -family life will, we believe, afford -interest to the reader for entertainment -as well as to the student of -sociology.</p> - -<p class="c012">There are points of distinct difference -between the factory operatives -of the South and those of any other -section of our country or of Europe.</p> - -<p class="c016">In the first place, there are no urban -instincts in these Southern mill communities. -Whatever virtues they lack -at least they have not the vices of -cities. The good and the evil in them -are still such as belong to a strictly -rural people. But no one must expect, -after another decade and a half, -to find the same thing true; for, with the -passing of the present generation, this -unique characteristic must of necessity -be largely lost. Gregariousness of living -is potent to efface such a mark -even when deeply stamped.</p> - -<p class="c016">It may be asked, What are the indications -of this quality which, for -want of a better name, is termed rusticity? -The signs are many and easy -to read. No observant person can -miss the plain evidence even in his first -day with the mill people. He walks -past the cottages, row on row, and -sees prince’s feather and bachelor’s -button growing in the tiny yards, -patchwork quilts sunning from the -windows, and strings of red pepper -festooned on the back porches. The -boys are quite often chewing tobacco, -but they are not smoking cigarettes. -Often, alas! the girls dip snuff, but -they do not lace in their waists, nor -attempt handkerchief flirtations. The -women are given to quiet, and a profound -reserve usually marks their -social intercourse. The festive gatherings -in the entertainment halls on -Saturday nights are either stiff parties -or genuine country dances. The “barbecue” -is common on a general holiday -and the “all day singing” of a Sunday -still remains the acme of enjoyment, -affording the perfect blending of sociality -and devotion.</p> - -<p class="c016">A second quality differentiating our -people from the Northern factory -communities of to-day, is what may -well be called their unmodified Americanism. -Up to the present time there -is an entire absence of the foreign -element of population among them, -and the effect of such absence is very -marked. Not only do better manners -prevail in this people sprung from our -own soil, but better morals, greater -social purity, less turbulence and lawlessness. -Remember, that observance -of law is easier, more natural, even to<span class="pageno" id="Page_154">154</span> -illiterate Americans, than to other nations, -because Law has typified to -them from childhood the majesty of -right, not the tyranny of might.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_154.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">MILLS 1, 2 AND 3, PELZER, S. C.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">The finer respect for women which -marks American manhood, extends -also to these toilers. Except among -their very lowest, motherhood inspires -the regard it meets with in other social -strata. And while in many of the -mills the number of female employees -exceeds that of males, yet in few of -the better kind are there any mothers -of young children at work.</p> - -<p class="c016">These considerations lead at once to -the questions, Where does such a class -of labor come from? What are its -antecedents?</p> - -<p class="c016">The first is easily answered: The operatives -have poured into the new -factories, not from town or city, but -from the country, direct from the cotton -fields, we may say, to the mills. -It was certainly not an anomalous -movement when cotton was bringing -4¾ cents per pound. But as the staple -moves back to its old prices, 10 and 12 -cents, some reactionary phases must -be looked for and provided against.</p> - -<p class="c016">The antecedents of this class of -labor deserve attention. A great majority -of the operatives come from -the agricultural class known as tenant -farmers; that is, men who farm the land -for others, paying as rent a considerable -portion of each year’s crop. The -tenant system was adopted in the South -during the period of disorder and -chaotic ruin following the Civil War, -when our old system of labor was dissolved -and no better base remained on -which to build anew the fabric of -agricultural life. Unfit as it is for a -country of such institutions as ours, -and the source in itself of very sore -evils, the tenant system still had a -necessary part in the last half century.</p> - -<p class="c016">Many of the tenant farmers of the<span class="pageno" id="Page_155">155</span> -last generation had indeed “seen better -days.” Not a few had been freeholders -before the war, although -usually of the little farms interspersed -here and there among the great plantations -of the aristocrats. Many others -had been overseers, factors, agents of -various sorts. A very small proportion -came from the class of decayed -gentlemen. The rest were made up -from those strata usually lumped together -in our designation, “crackers,” -or, in the South Carolina term, “poor -Buckra.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_155a.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">HOMES FROM WHICH THE MILL PEOPLE COME.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Such are the antecedents of the mass -of operatives in the new mills of the -South. Bearing in mind this derivation, -you will not find it difficult to -account for many qualities, traits and -habitudes that might otherwise appear -anomalous. For example, their extravagance -is a characteristic almost -without parallel among other classes -of toilers. But it is simple of explanation.</p> - -<p class="c016">The transition from a dollarless past -to a many-dollared present would render -any class of untutored human beings -extravagant. Through a long -period of tenant farming, these people -scarcely saw a piece of money from -Christmas to Christmas. Each year’s -supplies were either furnished by the -owner of the land, or bought on credit -at a nearby store, to be paid for when -the cotton was picked. The harvest -came, sometimes good, sometimes bad; -but good or bad, it seemed uniformly -to take it all to pay the merchant and -the landlord. The tenant rarely enjoyed -even the sorry pleasure of selling -his cotton and paying the hard -cash to these creditors; instead, he -usually hauled the raw product of his -toil directly to them, then turned apathetically -away to begin his half-hearted -preparations for another year’s crop. -His wife and children shared his labors, -sharing also his empty-handedness.</p> - -<p class="c016">This went on through the dragging -years of the South’s agricultural prostration, -until the last decade came, -with its mills and its industrial revolution, -when the moneyless and landless -ones drew into the new communities, -to try bread-winning under unfamiliar -conditions. The mothers and -daughters had often worked on the -farms, so they did not hesitate at the -factory door, except when very young -children claimed the care of the former. -In most instances, indeed, the women’s -fingers proved the readiest for the new -occupation.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_155b.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">THE MOUNTAIN TOP CABIN</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">But neither women nor men acquired -dexterity without a period of -laborious effort, such as all workmen -must struggle through when, possessed -of only the inherited instincts of generations -of bucolic ancestors, they set -themselves to some form of mechanical<span class="pageno" id="Page_156">156</span> -labor. That period being done with, a -certain amount of skill began to appear -in all fairly intelligent operatives, and -shortly they found themselves bringing -home each Saturday night, or alternate -Saturday night, according as -pay day fell, an amount of money that -to them seemed an amazing treasure-pile.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_156.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">A TYPICAL MILL COTTAGE.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Cases such as the following are found -in every prosperous factory community: -The father, mother, and six or -eight boys and girls, ranging from -twelve to twenty odd years, are at -work in one mill. Large families are -the rule in this class, remember. -Now, the adults, if fair weavers, easily -average $22.99 apiece per month. -The younger members of the family -are probably spinners, and average -about $14 each. This family, then, -that in the old life of the farm thought -themselves fortunate indeed to handle -$100 in cash throughout a year, now -bring home something like $175 every -month!</p> - -<p class="c016">Is it strange to you that extravagance -seizes upon this metamorphosed -household? If the sudden transition -from pennilessness to plethoric pocket-books -did not lead in itself straight to -spendthrift living, the precedents of -their neighbors would speedily teach -the trait.</p> - -<p class="c016">So the housewife loads the table with -luxuries hitherto unknown; the pretty -girl is tempted into all the caprices of -dress that her little Vanity Fair may -flaunt, while the father and brother -can scarcely tell whither their dollars -speed on such swift wings.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_157.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">THE LYCEUM, PELZER, S. C.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Yet this wastefulness, too, is but a -phase, destined to gradual elimination -in the development of the process by -which an agricultural people are converted -into a manufacturing one. -With all their illiteracy this class is not -devoid of understanding; and when a<span class="pageno" id="Page_157">157</span> -certain bewilderment of these early -years is past, it will be borne in upon -them in countless ways, by their school -privileges, their larger experience, their -clearer views of the outside world, by -their own innate manhood, indeed, -that there are far other uses for hard-earned -money than to be lavished on -mere food, clothing and shelter. -Many of them are already opening their -eyes to the fact that for an abundance -of things to eat and wear, they have -bartered a certain independence and -manliness which are fostered by agricultural -pursuits, even the lowliest, -and which breed sturdier virtues than -mere factory dependents can hope to -transmit to their children. Awakening -perceptions such as these are leading -to different results: to a rescinding -of extravagance always; sometimes a -return to the farm; occasionally to -the laying aside of money or investing -it in a home just outside the factory -property. But in most cases I find a -steadfast purpose growing,—to work -straight on where they are for the present, -and save every cent possible to -educate the coming generation and -set their feet in the path that leads -to freedom. I have even found several -young men and women putting -aside money to go to school on when -enough is saved, and many go to -school and work through alternate -half years.</p> - -<p class="c016">But how can they save money? -clamor those who have been studying -the comparative wage-scale of Northern -and Southern factories, without -acquaintance with the actual conditions -of the latter. By reasonable -economy, is the answer in this case -as others.</p> - -<p class="c016">From $20 to $30 per month is paid -good weavers throughout this section, -while the average spinner draws from -$10 to $16. These are regarded as<span class="pageno" id="Page_158">158</span> -good living wages in a country where -the prices of necessaries range much -lower than in the East or the West. -Houses are to be heated only about -four months in the year, and fuel is -comparatively cheap, in many places -less than $1.50 per cord for wood, while -coal averages less than half the price -it brings in Northern markets. Clothing -in this warm climate costs far less -than in a colder region. Farm and -garden supplies are purchased for what -seems to the Northern mind an absurdly -low price, and dairy products -are never high. Besides, in all the -rural mill communities, which are now -counted by the score to every one in -a city, a garden patch always and -often pasturage for one cow can be -counted on with every cottage.</p> - -<p class="c016">House rent is not a considerable -item. The mill cottages rent by the -month on the basis of 60 cents to $1 -per room, and the houses range in size -from three to eight rooms, four, however, -being the rule. With few exceptions, -these cottages are fairly -comfortable, and built with due regard -to sanitation. Outside of cities, each -one has its ground space where the inmates -may grow flowers and vegetables, -thus fostering a form of local -attachment that is by no means weak.</p> - -<p class="c016">From this brief survey, it may be -deduced that while the one-time tiller -of the soil has surrendered something -in becoming a factory operative, he -has also come into new privileges and -potentialities. When you strike your -balance between gain and loss, do not -overlook the weighty consideration of -the school advantages and other educational -facilities which such people -have acquired by coming from sparse -and remote settlements into their present -community life.</p> - -<p class="c012">During a recent cold snap the young and tender editor of this youthful -publication accompanied the blizzard to a small Tennessee town. The office -of the little hotel was full of commercial travelers trying to keep warm -around a single grate. A half-frozen Italian organ grinder, with his monkey, -entered, but was crowded away from the fire by the traveling men. He -found a chair away back in the corner of the room and soon fell asleep. But -suddenly he woke with a scream; the traveling men rushed to him and -asked him what was the matter. He said he dreamed he was in hell and -was freezing to death. “Freezing to death in hell! How is that?” asked -one of the boys. “Well,” replied the Italian, “the drummers crowded around -the fire so I couldn’t get to it.”—<i>Robert. L. Taylor.</i></p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_158.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - <span class="pageno" id="Page_159">159</span> - <h2 class="c002">THE MERRY LADY.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>By Roger Pocock, Author of “A Frontiersman,” etc.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class="c026">I.</h3> - -<p class="drop-capa0_0_6 c015">The poplar groves were gemmed -with diamond frost, and they -stood in a fairy circle surrounding -a glade of snow. -Beyond lay all the immensity of the -Canadian Plains, above rode the sun in -a heaven of cloudless blue, but within -the glade there was war. Jets of -sharp flame flickered from all the -groves, giving birth to clouds like -pearls, which drifted on the serene air -and made a bluish film of smoke above -the waves of the snowdrift. Across -the foot of the glade some sleighs were -drawn up for defence, each giving -shelter to a knot of men, though the -woodwork shattered in splinters about -their ears. Lying with carbines at -rest underneath the sleighs, they -watched for the smoke pearls in the -woods, then sighting low to clear the -combs of the snowdrifts, they fired -steadily at hidden enemies. A shower -of diamond dust would fall from some -fairy tree while the marksman swore -thoughtfully, and loaded to try again. -So rifles blazed and crashed, so bullets -whined or sang, but all this was merely -a twittering as of summer birds amid -that mighty silence of the plains, which -filled the vault of heaven sun-high -with peace.</p> - -<p class="c016">Yesterday a village of retired buffalo-hunters, -French-Indian half-breeds, -sorely annoyed with the Canadian -government, had set up a toy republic, -and persuaded some Indian tribes -to come out on the warpath. To-day -a troop of the Northwest Mounted -Police, assisted by a handful of volunteers, -had come out from Fort Carlton -to make enquiries—and been neatly -ambushed. The party of the first part -numbered three hundred and sixty-one -and the party of the second part only -ninety-six, as witnessed this Disagreement, -dated near Duck Lake, in the -District of Saskatchewan, in the Northwest -Territory of Canada, this 26th -day of March, 1885.</p> - -<p class="c016">The trooper farthest to the left of -the sleigh rampart was a man of giant -girth and stature, with an ugly face. -Officially he was Regimental Number -1107, Constable la Mancha, J., but his -pet name was the Blackguard, presumably -because of his manners and -customs. When the fighting began -he had been much alarmed, then displeased -because a bullet whipped some -fur from his buffalo overcoat, and in -another minute full of cheerful fury, -boiling hot with a frantic appetite for -trouble. Moreover, the very moment -he began pumping lead into the nearest -clump of bushes a naked Indian was -seen to leap into the air, and fall headlong. -“My meat!” cried the Blackguard, -and took a ferocious interest in -getting more. A few minutes later he -heard the man next him on the right -utter a little grunt, and gave his hot -carbine a rest while he looked round -to see what was wrong. A gallant -young Canadian, Corporal Buck McCannock, -had been hit, and rolled over -on his back beside la Mancha. The -Blackguard felt rather sick, watching -the red flush fade beneath the tan -while the man’s strong features became -wan and pinched.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Say, Buck, old chap, can I help?” -Buck’s eyes were closed, and he did -not seem to hear. The sunlight glowed -on the scarlet serge of his jacket, the -glittering buttons, the bright accoutrements, -as he lay with his buffalo coat -spread wide upon the snow. Only his -face was in shadow.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Buck, old man!”</p> - -<p class="c016">His eyes opened, his right hand<span class="pageno" id="Page_160">160</span> -moved out, his fingers plucking at la -Mancha’s sleeve, then very slowly his -left hand groped at the breast of his -jacket, and drew out a paper until it -caught between the buttons. La Mancha -saw that Buck’s lips were moving -now, and bending down he heard a -broken whisper, “Take this—tell her—tell -her—”</p> - -<p class="c016">The clay-white face relaxed, and the -Blackguard saw a bluish shadow come -up like rising water over it, over the -glazing eyes. Then the lips parted. -He wrenched the letter from the clutch -of a dead hand, which slid away down -the breast of the scarlet jacket, and -dropped to the ground.</p> - -<p class="c016">It was the shattering blow of a bullet -in the sleigh box above his head which -roused la Mancha to turn and fight -again. Hitherto he had merely disliked -those men behind the snowdrifts, -but now he wanted to skin, and burn a -few of them slowly, and prayed to the -saints that each bullet should inflict a -painful and mortal wound, followed by -a disagreeable hereafter.</p> - -<p class="c016">Then he heard footsteps in the creaking -snow, and knew that the troop -surgeon had found the corpse beside -him. He heard the doctor whisper: -“Buck? Poor Buck!”</p> - -<p class="c016">When la Mancha looked round again -Dr. Miller was gone and a red-haired -trooper was busy stripping the ammunition -from the dead man’s belt.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Down, fool,” said the Blackguard; -“that scalp of yours draws fire—you -ruddy oot.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Red lay down on the edge of the -dead man’s coat, and threw his feet -across the Blackguard’s legs lest the -snow should wet them. Then he -grunted with content.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Happy?” asked the Blackguard.</p> - -<p class="c016">“’Ungry—gimme blood! Look -there!”</p> - -<p class="c016">Red jerked his thumb backwards -over his shoulder and showed his chum -how one of the officers, Inspector -Sarde, lay near them. Sarde was -hiding behind the next sleigh on the -left, making an abject display of -cowardice. “The lantern-jawed, -swivel-eyed, white-livered, scarehead, -misbegotten, jumped up son of a dog’s -wife,” was the Blackguard’s comment.</p> - -<p class="c016">“I kicked ’im,” Red grinned in ferocious -joy, “cruel ’ard, too.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Red, help me to clear that bluff -in front there; sight at one hundred -yards, and fire low.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Low it is.” Red settled himself to -work, fired, and pumped a cartridge -while he watched results.</p> - -<p class="c016">“What makes you sing, eh, Blackguard? -I’m in a funk, I am—” he -fired again.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Was I singing?” La Mancha let -drive at a smoke puff. “I bagged -a buck Indian just now—aim low—got -’im.</p> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">“Carry him reverently, gently, slow—</div> - <div class="line in2">Pace by the trunnions with patient tread;</div> - <div class="line">Over the drifts of the rolling snow,</div> - <div class="line in2">With arms reversed for the Dead.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">“Nice and cheerful, ain’t yer!” cried -Red sarcastically, but la Mancha enjoyed -himself.</p> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">“Little we thought of him while he shared</div> - <div class="line in2">All that was worst in the long campaign;</div> - <div class="line">Little he guessed that we really cared,</div> - <div class="line in2">But drums roll now for the slain.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">Spreading the Flag o’er his last long sleep,</div> - <div class="line in2">Leading the horse which he may not ride.</div> - <div class="line">Tho’ for the living the roads are steep—</div> - <div class="line in2">The road for the Dead rolls wide.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">“’Ere, stop that!” Red howled at -him, then wiped his eyes with his -sleeve, as the Blackguard went on in a -broken voice, revelling in grief.</p> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">“Bravely he suffer’d and manly fought;</div> - <div class="line in2">Great with Death’s majesty rides he there;</div> - <div class="line">Royal the honors he dearly bought—</div> - <div class="line in2">The peace which we may not share.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">“Oh, shut up!” Red wailed, but la -Mancha grinned at him. “Blackguard, -got any more ammunition?”</p> - -<p class="c016">The Blackguard chuckled: “For my -self? why, plenty!” and he fired at a -pearly gust of smoke among fairy -trees of diamond. Then he heard the -death scream of a horse at the rear, -the shouting of orders, and a bugle -crying, “Cease firing! Retire!”</p> - -<h3 class="c026">II.</h3> - -<p class="c016">The horses were bought up from the -rear, bucking, fighting, breaking away, -or falling in their traces as the teamsters -took them in charge. Then the -enemy charged, the rear guard held -them back, and confusion verged<span class="pageno" id="Page_161">161</span> -towards panic under a galling fire. -La Mancha, with Red for his off man, -was lucky enough to get a team away -unharmed, but, as his horses plunged -through breast-high drifts, he heard -the outcry of two wounded men. -Their sleigh, with one horse killed, and -the other dying, had been abandoned.</p> - -<p class="c016">“All right, Gilchrist!” he called. -“Keep your hair on, Smith!” then -swung his team about—“Drive on!” -yelled Inspector Sarde, jumping directly -in his path.</p> - -<p class="c016">For answer the Blackguard drove -straight over him to the rescue. In -another moment willing helpers had -carried the wounded men to la Mancha’s -sleigh, and half a dozen jumped -in to defend them, as the teamsters -swung away towards the trail.</p> - -<p class="c016">When he had tailed in with the retreat -he turned, “What became of -Sarde the Coward?” he called back -over his shoulder.</p> - -<p class="c016">“In your sleigh, constable!” answered -the officer. “Sergeant, put -this man under arrest.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Yes, sir,” the sergeant saluted. -“Constable la Mancha,” he called, -“for charging an officer with cowardice -in the field, consider yourself under -arrest.”</p> - -<p class="c016">The charge was made, and only la -Mancha could withdraw that now. -Sarde looked from face to face and all -eyes accused him; all these men were -witnesses against him on a charge of -cowardice in the field. He set his teeth.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Sergeant,” he said, “when we -reach the Fort you will put this constable -under close arrest.”</p> - -<p class="c016">The Blackguard was singing gaily -as he drove, singing in vengeful triumph, -forgetting the dozen or so of -his comrades whose bodies lay on the -bloody snow, abandoned. Then he -remembered and was silent, while the -crackle of musketry dwindled away -astern, as the men of the rear guard -fell back. Only the lope of the horses, -the creaking of the runners, and occasional -sobbing gasps of a hurt man -in the sleigh, disturbed the silence of -the wilderness. La Mancha handed -the reins to his off man:</p> - -<p class="c016">“Take the team, Red; I want—”</p> - -<p class="c016">He took a letter from his pocket, -and sat, all humped up, reading -gloomily.</p> - -<p class="c016">Eight miles away the fellows down -in the Fort were waiting for news, the -news of victory. Red’s heart, as he -drove, was aching; his face burned -with shame as he thought of the Outfit -thrashed—the Greatest Regiment on -Earth disgraced—the dead left in the -field, the sleighs full of wounded men -in their agony—then the settlements! -What could save the far-strung, -lonely settlements now from being -sacked and burned, the men tortured -to death, the women—the children! -He dared not think of them at the -mercy of Red Indian tribes at war. -And Buck was dead; poor old Buck, -who had rooked him last night at -cribbage—dead!</p> - -<p class="c016">“Dearest,” the Blackguard read, -“I can’t bear him any longer. Meet -me behind the stockade at dusk. -Your poor Polly.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Who the deuce was Polly? What -had he to tell her anyway from Buck? -He put away Buck’s letter, and drove -on, climbing the hillocks, swishing -down the hollows among lakes and -groves, until the deep valley of the -Saskatchewan opened ahead, and far -down beside the river he saw the old -Hudson’s Bay Company’s post, Fort -Carlton, where the Union Jack flamed -out above the stockade, and the garrison -waited for news of victory.</p> - -<p class="c016">Away to the right, upon the eastern -trail, a string of loaded sleighs was -sweeping down long slopes toward the -Fort, covered by mounted men with -all the glitter and pageantry of war—the -reinforcement which had come too -late—B Troop, triumphant after a -tremendous forced march to the rescue. -The Blackguard grunted his disparagement, -and spoke to his off man:</p> - -<p class="c016">“Who’s poor Polly?”</p> - -<p class="c016">Red laughed: “Sarde’s wife, of -course.”</p> - -<p class="c016">The Blackguard whistled softly. -“So she’s poor Polly—oh, you sly dog! -Oh, Buck!”</p> - -<h3 class="c026">III.</h3> - -<p class="c016">The Blackguard slept in the cells a -prisoner—“Pretty well, thank you!” -as he told Red, through the window,<span class="pageno" id="Page_162">162</span> -afterwards. All day he lay at ease -while the rest of the fellows made -dismal lamentations about overwork. -That soothed him, also the aftertaste -of a nice fight, while in his cheery soul -he gloated on things to come, the war, -the downfall of Sarde, and meetings -with that officer’s merry lady. No -wonder she could not bear any more -Sarde—small blame to her, for he was -dismal and the lady gay, with a sense -of humor, an engaging laugh, a dimple -or two, and a pert eye for any fun in -sight. Poor Polly! And so she let Buck -hold her hand of an evening? Poor -Buck! The Blackguard sighed. -“But I’m rather nice”—he felt that -Buck would approve—“and disengaged, -too! I’m grateful, refreshing, -comforting, well broken, docile, with -the sweetest manners, the dearest -little ways.” He chuckled as he -thought of other merry ladies whom -he had fondly loved, two or three at a -time, charming girls by swarms down -the perspectives of nice memory. -“I did my duty.” He crooned, and -composed himself for a nap.</p> - -<p class="c016">Red came in the afternoon with -news. The fort was to be abandoned, -evacuated at midnight, and the garrison -was to fall back, defending the -settlements eastward. The boys had -been turned loose to loot the Hudson’s -Bay store—and here was the Blackguard’s -share, flung in through the -bars: a box of cigars, a mouth organ, -a fine revolver, a baby’s bottle, some -chocolate creams, and a family Bible -which caught him full in the eye and -floored him.</p> - -<p class="c016">The Blackguard found that he -could not play the mouth organ while -he was eating chocolates and smoking, -but had to take them by turns. -The shadow of night stole softly in -through the bars before he was -bored.</p> - -<p class="c016">Later on he began to get hungry, -and as supper was delayed some -hours he clamored at the door. To -his amazement he was at once let out -by a half-breed washerwoman, and -looking round saw that the guardroom -was full of civilian refugees. -For a minute he stood watching them -as they sat around a glowing stove, -whose naked iron flue went red-hot -through the wooden ceiling. “You’ll -have the place on fire soon,” he said, -and they only smiled at him. Where -was the Guard? Away relieving sentries, -he supposed, as he reached his -sidearms down from a peg, belted on -his revolver, and strolled outside. -He found himself in the covered entry -of the fort, under the gate house. -On his right the great courtyard was -littered with sleighs, and swarming -with men at work preparing for the -retreat. On his left the gates swung -ajar. To look more business-like he -swung an axe across his shoulder, and -marched out, explaining to the sentry -that he was on duty. The riverside -meadows lay silver below the moon -and the fresh night allured him as he -skirted the stockade, answering a -challenge from the bastion, then -turned towards the rear side of the -fort. He was thinking of the merry -lady who might have been there had -he come last night. She was there!</p> - -<p class="c016">He drew near to the cloaked and -silent woman, and lifted his cap; -“Mrs. Sarde, I think?”</p> - -<p class="c016">She shrank back against the upright -posts of the stockade, thrust out white -hands against him, and barely repressed -a scream. “Who are you? -What are you?” she cried.</p> - -<p class="c016">He saw that her face was pale, -touched by the moonlight into a -spiritual delicacy. “The Blackguard, -madam,” he answered.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Oh, how you frightened me! -What is it, la Mancha? You’ve -brought a message for me?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“You thought I was a ghost,” he -whispered; “you thought I was—”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Buck? Yes.” He saw a tear run -down her cheek. “Yes, I thought -so.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“I am his messenger.” The Blackguard’s -voice was soft and low, he -leaned towards her, his hand against -the stockade, as he bent down. “His -last thought was of you, he tried to -give me a message, but his voice failed -then.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“My brother! My poor brother!” -The Blackguard started back.</p> - -<p class="c016">“The deuce!” he stammered, “what a -beastly sell! Your brother, madam?”<span class="pageno" id="Page_163">163</span> -He uncovered his head. “I beg your -pardon, Mrs. Sarde; I beg your forgiveness.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Nobody knew,” her voice was -broken with tears; “not even my husband. -Poor boy—things had gone -wrong down East. He had to change -his name, and when he joined the -Force—for my sake, he wouldn’t say -that he was my brother. He was in -the ranks, you see, and I—”</p> - -<p class="c016">“You are in trouble, madam”—a -new reverence had come into la Mancha’s -manner. “I was your brother’s -friend—may I take his place and serve -you?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“How kind of you to think of that, -Mr. la Mancha. But then, you see, -my husband—you understand?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Has the right to protect you; yes, -he has that great honor.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Oh, don’t mind me!” came Sarde’s -sarcastic interruption, and both of -them turned round, startled, horrified, -to face the officer of the guard, visiting -round unattended. “You may well -start—the pair of you,” said Inspector -Sarde, his eyes glittering with rage, -then with bitter sarcasm he went on; -“A husband’s rights? Moonshine! -Myths! Lies! Woman, get back to -the fort at once, or I’ll have you arrested -for being out of bounds.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“But, Cuthbert,” she pleaded, “you -don’t understand. This gentleman—”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Go, I say; go! Leave me to settle -with this—this gentleman!”</p> - -<p class="c016">Poor Polly crept away, and the two -men watched her in silence until she -had turned the corner of the stockade.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Ah!” the Blackguard laid his axe -against the wall. “At last!”</p> - -<p class="c016">“And now, mister gentleman, may I -venture to ask what you’re doing outside -your cell?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“You may.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Stand to attention; call me ‘sir’ -when you address an officer.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Dear, dear! I would shout, I -would screech if I were you. Then -everybody will hear.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“The Commissioner shall hear.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“What? That I’m here to defend -your wife’s honor, which you have insulted, -you—you poached cat!”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Right about turn, quick march for -the guard room, or—”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Or what?”</p> - -<p class="c016">The officer was silent.</p> - -<p class="c016">“That’s right. Now be good. I -want to point out,” said the Blackguard -with yearning sweetness, “that -although I am tempted, without witnesses, -I have not kicked you. No. -I have denied myself even calling you -names, you—you mule-foaled outrage -on nature’s modesty; you stridulating, -splay-footed, pop-eyed mistake of -Providence; you supercilious brass-mounted, -misdirected Excuse. I will -not shock myself by speaking the -truth about your appearance, origin, -or destiny as a spatchcocked and fried -Sin, but I daresay you’ll understand -this—”</p> - -<p class="c016">He flicked his glove across the -officer’s face, and stood back, smiling -blandly.</p> - -<p class="c016">“How dare you!”</p> - -<p class="c016">“With my glove, so—” he struck -again, lightly, gracefully, tigerishly. -“You see there are the snipers in the -hills, taking the pot-shot, eh? which -will explain your death, without my -inconvenience; eh? It will account -for all—we have revolvers—and so! -Carramba! What more does the fool -want?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Sir! I’m an officer, a gent—”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Exactly—gent. Something less -than a gentleman, eh? Well, I waive -that. I waive the matter of rank—I -accommodate you with every kindness; -eh, what?”</p> - -<p class="c016">Sarde hesitated.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Come, I know you’re a coward, but -never mind that. Brace up! You -shall be a man for once. There now; -at fifteen paces, eh? No? Don’t disappoint -me, please,” the Blackguard -pleaded. “I spoil for it—I beg you—have -you no inside? Are you a shadow -in trousers? Nombre de Dios! -It’s for your wife’s honor!”</p> - -<p class="c016">“I tell you that officers can’t fight -with—”</p> - -<p class="c016">“With me, Senor? I waive that, I -tell you—I, Jose Santa Maria Sebastian -Sant Iago Nuñez Ramiro de -Guzman, de la Mancha, Marques de -las Alpuxarras, Conde del Pulgar, a -peer of Castile, am ready to waive my -rank and fight a scrambled skunk! -Draw! Stand back! At the word<span class="pageno" id="Page_164">164</span> -three I fire—one—two—Sangre de -Cristo!”</p> - -<p class="c016">Sarde had fired.</p> - -<p class="c016">“What the deuce do you mean by -firing before I give the word, eh? I’ll -punch your head for that!” The -Blackguard clutched at a burning pain -on his shoulder, his hand was dyed -with the blood of a spurting artery—and -yet this seemed to concern him -less than the red glare from within the -fort which had flushed the face of his -adversary. He reeled backwards now, -staring up at the stockade, whose -timbers loomed black against a fiery -glow, which was rapidly mounting to -heaven above Fort Carlton.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Sarde,” said la Mancha, gravely, -“you see that?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Had enough?” asked Sarde; “I’m -going to kill you now. I fire when I -count three—one—two—defend yourself—”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Presently, my good man, presently,” -la Mancha waved his hand to -Sarde. “Don’t you see that the fort -is on fire?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“On fire—what? On fire! By the -living—”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Hush, don’t gabble, Sarde. -You’ve played the man at last; I forgive -you for firing too soon—I let you -off the charge of cowardice in the -field. Oh, you needn’t thank me—it’s -for your wife’s sake. Yes, I let -you off—I ask your pardon, sir. Oh, -yes, why not?”</p> - -<p class="c016">Within the fort a bugle was crying -the terrible monotonous repetitions of -the General Assembly, and men were -yelling, as they ran, of wounded patients -shut up in the blazing house. -“The fort’s on fire. The fort’s on -fire,” Sarde moaned.</p> - -<p class="c016">La Mancha clutched Sarde’s arm to -steady himself as he reeled backwards -faint with pain from his wound.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Those refugees,” he explained; -“half-breeds in the guard room with a -red hot stove. I warned them. Look, -the gate house is on fire, the gate is -blocked with flames, the only gate, and -the fire will spread all round the buildings! -All those people going to be -burned to death unless we can cut a -road through the stockade—you’ve -hit my shoulder—I can’t use the axe. -But you”—he shook the officer with -frantic violence—“a Canadian, a -born axeman— Do you hear? Save -the garrison or they’ll burn to death! -Take that axe!”</p> - -<p class="c016">The Canadian sprang forward, the -axe became a live thing in his hands; -the gleaming blade flamed in red air, -buried itself in quivering timber, then -swung again, and lit, and swung again -in a whirl of splinters.</p> - -<p class="c016">La Mancha sat down in the snow, -his blood-drenched hand upon the -wound, his body rocking to the steady -swing of the axe, though he could -hardly see his enemy now, because of the -red smoke curling between the timbers.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Good man!” he gasped, “you are -a man at last! You’ll save the garrison, -you’ll get promoted, you’ll win -back that lady’s love-you’re winning -back your honor! Strike, man—strike!”</p> - -<p class="c012">It is well known to the two hundred thousand readers of this magazine that -its bald-headed editor often pulls his hair on the platform. He boarded -the cars one day and slung his big valise between two seats and sat down -by a drummer. The drummer looked at the valise and then at the bald-headed -man and bluntly asked, “Are you a traveling man, sir?” “Yes, -sir,” was the reply. “What line of goods are you selling?” queried the -drummer. “Sweetened wind,” was the answer. “Oh, you are!” said the -drummer; “preacher or lecturer?”—<i>Robert L. Taylor.</i></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - <span class="pageno" id="Page_165">165</span> - <h2 class="c002">A ROYAL RESIDENCE.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>By James Henry Stevenson.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="drop-capa0_0_6 c015">One morning the Professor, -whom I had not seen since I -left Tennessee, accidentally unearthed -me in London and -proposed that we should visit Windsor. -Now, I may as well confess to -defective initiative, in regard to sight-seeing, -for I had been within reach of -Windsor on several former occasions -and had not yet seen the home of the -most gracious queen the world has -ever known. This, too, in face of the -fact that a German professor had assured -me that Windsor was “himmlisch.” -When a German so far forgets -himself as to say that anything -English is “heavenly,” be assured he -has great provocation.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_165.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">WINDSOR CASTLE FROM THE THAMES.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Of course, I acceded without hesitation -to the Professor’s proposal and -we selected a train, appointed a <i>rendezvous</i>, -and agreed to go the following -morning.</p> - -<p class="c016">The Professor’s traveling companion -was a “blue grass” doctor of divinity, -while I was courier, guide, and advance -agent to the “delegate,” sent by his -admiring countrymen and brethren -to unload some ecclesiastical “thunder -and lightning” on their conservative -confrères in the old land. The “delegate’s” -wife was traveling with him -as a sort of balance wheel on his too -impetuous energy and to see that he -was not imposed on by the overbearing -foreigner; she was not averse to a -little vigorous sight-seeing when otherwise -unemployed. They also joined -the party, which was completed by -“Wee McGregor,” as the eight-year-old -was called, who looked to me for -his traveling expenses.</p> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_166">166</span></div> - -<p class="c016">Having visited London before, and -being possessed of an unearned reputation -as a <i>dragoman</i>, I felt it was incumbent -on me to show the party the -best and quickest way to reach Windsor. -Accordingly I hailed one of those -obsolete conveyances which the London -City Fathers provide for the -traveler, to whom the conservation of -energy is of more moment than arriving -at a destination.</p> - -<p class="c016">In due time, somewhat shaken but -still in good humor, for the day was -yet young, we arrived at King’s Cross -station on the Metropolitan Railway, -better known by the more modest and -suggestive title of the “Underground.” -“Here,” I had said to the prospective -sightseers, “we shall get a train that -will connect direct and without change -at Paddington station with the train -for Windsor.” This was all true except -the “without change” clause. -For this slight deviation from strict -veracity I have no apology to make. -Indeed, I doubt whether I am entitled -to play the role of guide while so generous -with the truth.</p> - -<p class="c016">I kept my tourists “rounded up” and -prevented them from embarking in -various directions. As there were -trains passing every two or three minutes -it seemed a waste of time not to -take one and I had, as a consequence, -a very busy quarter of an hour. At -last our train came, and, after rushing -madly up and down the platform the -entire length of the train, we found -places, though in different “stalls.”</p> - -<p class="c016">When an American train arrives at -a station you go in and find a seat. -When an English train, especially of -the old style which is now happily -disappearing, arrives, you must first -find a seat and then go in. You trail -up and down the platform and poke -your nose into every compartment -answering to the class for which you -have purchased tickets. Here is one -with two or three places vacant, but -you have a party of four, and as they -are strangers in the country, you must -keep them together to ensure their -alighting at the right place. Besides -you naturally want to be within speaking -distance of one another. So you -start back again to the other end of -the train, terrified every moment lest -the engineer grow weary of your bootless -explorations, and decide to start. -Ah! Here is a vacant apartment at -last, but just as you are about to step -in with a light heart you notice that it -is marked “first class” and unfortunately -you are not a millionaire. You -continue your search and find eventually -a vacant apartment of the class -in which you are entitled to ride. -Your troubles are now ended; your -party is seated; your <i>impedimenta</i> are -laboriously stowed away in the racks, -when, with envious nonchalance, enters -a smoker armed with a little cigarette -that vomits smoke like a factory -chimney. The ladies are indignant; -you rack your brain for something -sufficiently withering to say, and just -as you are ready to deliver, you notice, -faintly etched on the window, the -word “smoking.” Now, if you were -traveling in Austria, you would give -the “guard” a quarter to remove the -label with the offensive word, and -would settle back virtuously into the -leather cushions, but here, while the -English guard would be equally obliging—for -a like “bakshish”—it is a -more serious matter to remove the -door or window. In the meantime -you have left the smoker in quiet possession -to fill the vacant space with -clouds of the fragrant weed. In despair -you apply to the guard and when -you appropriately recognize his importance, -he finds you a place in a -moment.</p> - -<p class="c016">The stations on the “Underground” -are open to the surface and are light -and airy, but when the train plunges -under London, and the compartment -fills up with the gases, that have been -accumulating down here for the past -thirty years, you realize that traveling -on the “Underground” does not differ -widely from suicide by slow asphyxiation.</p> - -<p class="c016">The “delegate” put his silk handkerchief -to his nostrils and looked -suspiciously at me. It requires some -ten minutes to make the distance between -King’s Cross and Paddington, -so he was unable to hold his breath all -the way. Every time he breathed I -felt as if I had murdered a man. My<span class="pageno" id="Page_167">167</span> -Tennessee friend and the Kentucky -parson were not yet disposed to be -critical, so they chatted merrily, -breathed regularly, and acted as -though these sulphur laden fumes were -their “native air.”</p> - -<p class="c016">But after we had quitted Paddington -station, and the train had taken -its last few plunges under ground; -when we had actually shaken off the -dust and grime and roar of London, -the beauty of the incomparable English -landscape began to make us glad. -Patchwork hillsides, where tiny fields -are partitioned off by greenest hedges, -lovely valleys, where brimming streams -shimmer their length along, came, one -by one, into view. The English -streams have no visible banks. The -turf, green as an emerald, grows clear -to the water’s brink and dangles its -luxuriant growth into the quiet brook, -as a barefoot boy, playing truant, -cools his feet in some wayside stream, -while the master’s wrath grows warm. -These rivers—for rivers I must call -them, though a good athlete might -almost leap from side to side—are always -full and seem as though the accidental -dropping in of a pebble would -make them overflow.</p> - -<p class="c016">As hill and valley, hedge and garden, -country home and quiet hamlet, all of -surpassing loveliness, swept past us, my -entire party began to fall under the -spell of this exquisite beauty, and I -felt that there had arisen the unanimous, -though unexpressed, conviction -that now, at last, the self-appointed -guide was earning his salary.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_167.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">WINDSOR CASTLE FROM THE THAMES.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">As Windsor is distant from London -by about forty minutes ride, the tourist -arrives at his destination fresh and -“fit,” to use an expressive English -phrase. When we issued forth from -the station we encountered, as a matter -of course, the ubiquitous hackman -who, in all lands, stands ever ready to -drive you to all the places you especially -do not want to visit. The object -of our pilgrimage was the Castle, distant -a stone’s throw from the station, -so there was no occasion to provoke -an unnecessary and futile dispute with -the “cabbie.” We next encountered -an army of small boys distributing -handbills, on which were set forth, in -eloquent terms, the merits of the -various “tea rooms” of the city, which -unselfishly cater to the comfort of the -stranger. We accepted this service -as a matter of course, first, because it -was gratuitous; second, because it was -the easiest way to get rid of the boy,<span class="pageno" id="Page_168">168</span> -and third, because, though a sight-seer -may pull through the day without the -assistance of a hansom or a “growler,” -I have never known one who was not -ready to take a little refreshment, especially -when he was traveling abroad. -After we had become thoroughly tired -out, with climbing the steps of the -Round Tower and general sight-seeing, -we found a cosy, clean and restful -upper room, where the actual bill of -fare was not badly out of harmony -with the promises of the card.</p> - -<p class="c016">The town of Windsor, itself, possesses -nothing of special interest to the -traveler. The Castle, situated in a -commanding position on the Thames, -dominates the town from every point -of view, and is, with its environs, the -sole reason for a visit.</p> - -<p class="c016">The group of buildings enclosed by -the walls is nearly a mile in circumference -and has been the favorite home -of most of the sovereigns of England -since the days of William the Conqueror. -Each one has continued the -lavish expenditures of his predecessor -to enrich and beautify it. It fascinates, -therefore, not only by its great -beauty, the romance suggested by wall -and tower, but also, and especially, by -the variety of its architecture. Here -we can study the master-builder’s art, -as gate, chapel, and tower step forth, -in quick succession, to instruct us. -The space, enclosed by the walls of -the castle, is divided into two wards—the -lower and the upper—by the -great Round Tower, which occupies -the brow of a hill, or mound, commanding -the upper ward, which is level, -and looking down upon the lower ward, -which is situated on a gradual incline. -The walls are pinched together at the -Tower, but swell out around either -ward, suggesting somewhat the figure -eight.</p> - -<p class="c016">We arrived at Windsor by the -Great Western Railway, and after -walking up a little hill, High Street, -passing on the left the beautiful Jubilee -statue of Queen Victoria, we found -ourselves at the main entrance of the -lower ward, Henry VIII’s gateway. -Notice this splendid example of Tudor -architecture, built about 1510. Either -side of the gateway is flanked by a -mighty tower, which you will notice -has three sides to make more effective -the defence. Over the gateway, in a -row, may be seen the badges of Henry: -the <i>fleur-de-lis</i>, suggesting the English -claim to the French crown; the -Tudor Rose; and the portcullis, used so -frequently after the twelfth century -to protect the gateway from sudden -assault.</p> - -<p class="c016">My readers will remember that -Henry was rather indulgent to himself -in the matter of marriages. He experienced, -all told, six wives, of whom -Providence removed two, divorce set -aside two more, and the executioner’s -axe cut short the career of the remaining -pair.</p> - -<p class="c016">His second wife, Anne Boleyn, the -most charming of the lot, whom Henry -first married, afterward divorcing her -rival, paid the penalty of her attractiveness, -or coquetry, at the executioner’s -block in the Tower of London. -She, with a gorgeous retinue attending -her, was met at this gate by Henry and -welcomed to the place with the assurance -that she would shortly be its -real mistress. All this, however, to -the great regret of the “delegate’s” -wife, took place before our arrival.</p> - -<p class="c016">How different is the architecture of -the Norman gate with its graceful -round towers! Here, in these chambers -which you may see above the entrance, -and in the rooms of the towers -themselves, were kept, during the -struggle between Crown and Parliament, -many famous prisoners.</p> - -<p class="c016">As we entered the lower ward, by -Henry VIII’s gateway, the beautiful -proportions of St. George’s Chapel rose -before us on the left. Adjoining, on -the east, is Albert Memorial Chapel, -the gem of the entire group. Still -traveling east and ascending the hill, -we come first to the residence of the -Dean and Chapter, and then to the famous -Round Tower. Directly across -from St. George’s the group of buildings -is the residence of the Military -Knights, who date from the founding -of the order of the Garter, when Edward -III established this to provide -for the relief of poor knights. It was -called by Elizabeth, “Poor Knights of -Windsor,” but William IV took away<span class="pageno" id="Page_169">169</span> -its reproach by giving it the present -name.</p> - -<p class="c016">These are the main features of the -lower ward, the buildings being -grouped around a large balloon-shaped -court.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_169.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">WINDSOR CASTLE, NORMAN GATEWAY.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Beyond the Round Tower lies the -upper ward, perfectly level, with -stately buildings on three sides of a -square which contains a splendid example -of artistic gardening. The -buildings on the north are the State -apartments, and those on the south -and east the royal suites. This group -has twenty-four towers, seventeen -state apartments, forty-eight rooms, -seventy-nine bedrooms, sixty-five sitting -rooms, and rooms containing two -hundred and thirty-one beds for servants.</p> - -<p class="c016">Our first objective point was St. -George’s Chapel. The exterior of this -building is very beautiful and singularly -in harmony with the surrounding -structures. This effect the architect -accomplished by avoiding the use of -the conventional church tower, while -at the same time preserving the ecclesiastical -appearance.</p> - -<p class="c016">We found, within, a group of people -in charge of a verger, who was explaining -to them the various objects of interest. -We went our own way and -when we had finished, found that the -verger and his flock had departed and -the door was locked. It felt, at first, -a trifle like being in jail, but conscious -of our rectitude, we waited till the door -opened again and then passed out. -As we had found the door open when -we arrived and had entered in unchallenged, -it did not occur to us that the -verger considered it necessary to personally -conduct us through the building -and bid us farewell when we left; -nor did we think that we had in any -way slighted him till the Kentucky -parson, who had remained behind to -ask a few questions, later reported that -the ecclesiastical pathfinder had enquired -of him, with fine scorn, if “that -aristocratic party belonged to him.” -The “aristocratic party,” was the professor, -the “delegate” and myself, who -were now safely out of reach, while the -verger’s fee jingled merrily at the bottom -of our pockets.</p> - -<p class="c016">On every hand, at Windsor, are -posted notices forbidding the servants -to receive any gratuities, but we<span class="pageno" id="Page_170">170</span> -learned, that notwithstanding the -seemliness of such a regulation in such -a place, none but a novice took it -seriously. Consequently, when we later -visited the Royal Stables, we -emerged proudly from the ordeal after -having deposited a shilling in the ever -ready hand of the guide.</p> - -<p class="c016">But to return to the chapel. It was -begun by Henry I and mutilated as -usual by the soldiers of the Puritans, -and restored again by Charles II and -his successors, but Victoria has perhaps -done most for it.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_170.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">HENRY VIII GATEWAY.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">There are many tiny chapels around -the various walls, in the fashion of the -churches of Europe. We noticed, especially, -the Braye chapel to the right -of the entrance. On the walls hung a -sword and swordbelt, showing evident -marks of service in the field. An inscription -explained that they belonged -to Captain Wyatt-Edgall, who recovered -the body of the Prince Imperial, -in Zululand. He, himself, was also -killed in South Africa. The same -chapel contains the monument to -Prince Imperial—son of Napoleon III -and Eugènie,—who fought with the -English in South Africa, and there died.</p> - -<p class="c016">A translation of the inscription at -the foot of the marble figure—a figure -of the recumbent prince, grasping his -sword which lies along his body—reads: -“The well-beloved youth, the -comrade of our soldiers, slain in the -African war, and thence carried to the -tomb of his fathers, and represented in -funereal marble in this holy domicile -of kings, Queen Victoria receiveth as -her guest.”</p> - -<p class="c016">There is also an interesting extract -from the will of the prince, which -reads: “I shall die with a feeling of -profound gratitude for her Majesty, -the Queen of England, and for the -royal family, and for the country in -which, during eight years, I have received -so cordial a hospitality.”</p> - -<p class="c016">The choir, a church within the -church, is situated in the center of the -chapel and at the east end. A passage -runs the entire way round the sides -and rear. It is raised some four feet -above the level of the floor and is a -long gallery with two rows of lateral -seats, and an organ, said to be the -finest choir organ in Europe, at the -farthest end. The seats, on either -side, are the stalls of the Knights of<span class="pageno" id="Page_171">171</span> -the Garter. They are most elaborately -carved from floor to ceiling, -decorated with crests and emblems.</p> - -<p class="c016">The remains of Henry VIII and -Lady Jane Seymour, who was neither -divorced nor beheaded, since she lived -only a year after her marriage, are -buried beneath the center of the choir. -Under the entire chapel a royal vault -was constructed by George III, cut -out of the chalk rocks below. It is -seventy by twenty by fifteen feet and -designed for eighty-one bodies.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_171.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">THE ROUND TOWER, WINDSOR CASTLE.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Directly in the rear of St. George’s -is Albert Memorial Chapel, the most -interesting feature, as well as the most -artistic and costly creation at Windsor. -The chapel was begun by the -pious, though much married, Henry -VIII, who soon abandoned it for Westminster. -Constancy was, perhaps, -not one of Henry’s strong points. -Wolsey, who was Henry’s pope and -aspired to be the real one, begged and -obtained the chapel for himself, but -fell from Henry’s favor, as the ladies -had done, before he could finish it. -When the Parliamentary forces obtained -possession of Windsor, they desecrated -it as usual, and sold its plunder -for $3,000. Wolsey’s sarcophagus, -which escaped, was removed by George -III, three hundred years later, to St. -Paul’s, where it now holds the dust -of Nelson.</p> - -<p class="c016">It is well known that Victoria decided -to convert this chapel into a -memorial for the Prince Consort after -his death. No expense was spared, -and when it was completed in 1874, -its interior rivaled the most splendid -ecclesiastical structures in the world.</p> - -<p class="c016">The fourteen windows, with panels -beneath thirteen of them, are dreams -of art. The windows contain portraits -and arms of various kings, -queens and princes, and some symbolical -figures. The panels beneath -picture scenes from the Old and New -Testaments, suggestive of various virtues -and religious truths. The chapel -contains in the center, besides the -Prince’s cenotaph, the tombs of the -Dukes of Albany and Clarence.</p> - -<p class="c016">The Round Tower is the most picturesque -feature of the castle. Nothing -is so interesting as a tower. Not -a modern tower—a mere imitation—but -a real tower, with dungeons, where -prisoners have clanked their chains in<span class="pageno" id="Page_172">172</span> -despair, with great halls where knights -in armor foregathered, with secret passages -and musty mysteries in every -corner—a tower that has lived on to -see this age of civilization superimposed -upon its own rough, ready and -bloody past.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_172.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">VICTORIA TOWER AND SOUTH SIDE.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">The tower is over three hundred feet -in circumference and is built on the top -of a high mound in a most commanding -situation. It is reached, after one -passes through the Norman Gate, by a -long flight of steps, which is continued -up through the structure till the base -of the turret is reached. This flight is -commanded by a cannon placed at the -head of the stairs. The turret, a good-sized -tower itself, is built upon the top -of the old tower of George III. Within -the turret, the stairs wind around a -massive bell, brought from Sevastopol.</p> - -<p class="c016">Finally the top is reached, three hundred -and twenty-five feet from the -ground, and we walk round the ample -promenade—the turret is twenty-five -feet wide—dumb in the presence of the -loveliness before us. How beautiful is -an English landscape, with its living -green, threaded here and there by the -silver sparkle of a stream. West and -south we looked out over Windsor -forest and parks, while in the north -Eton College was plainly visible with -the inevitable cricketers, dressed in -white flannel, moving to and fro over -the matchless sward, or facing the -“crease,” which is, I believe, the “correct” -name for the “pitcher’s box.”</p> - -<p class="c016">How much history and mystery -might not the walls of this old tower, -built by Edward III, teach us, could -they but speak! This tower once -contained the great round table of the -Knights of the Garter and was the -home of the constable-governors, who -were responsible for the safe keeping -of the state prisoners, among the most -famous of whom have been John, of -France, and David, of Scotland.</p> - -<p class="c016">As illustration of the possible mysteries -that may still lurk about the -tower, I will mention a recent discovery. -While investigating a stone cover -with an iron handle, the mouth of a -well was uncovered. It was found to -descend one hundred and sixty-four<span class="pageno" id="Page_173">173</span> -feet, to the level of the Thames, and was -lined up with masonry most of the way.</p> - -<p class="c016">From the turret a fine view is obtained -of the state and private apartments -of the castle. These contain -magnificent collections of rare bric-a-brac -and art objects of all kinds. -Paintings, tapestries, and ceramics of -priceless worth, are kept in the -various rooms and galleries. The Van -Dyck room recalls the fact that this -Dutch artist was brought to England, -knighted and pensioned by Charles I. -There are also a Zuccarelli room and a -Rubens room, with famous paintings -from the artists whose names they bear.</p> - -<p class="c016">Our next visit was paid to the Royal -Stables. Here we were received at an -office, and after registering our names -and nativity were put in charge of -guides. Words cannot do justice to -the splendid appearance of the well-matched -horses, a large proportion of -which were greys, and the cleanliness -and order of the stalls. Even the -straw beneath the horses’ feet was unruffled. -At the foot of the stall was -laid a nicely plaited braid of straw, -forming a pretty border, and on either -side stood little sheaves of straw, -daintily bound, and presenting the -appearance of a row of sentinels down -the long line.</p> - -<p class="c016">We were conducted through stable -after stable, and shown horses for all -sorts of uses, and horses that were no -longer of any use but were pensioners -of His Majesty, for services already -rendered the State. Then came the -carriages. Carriages for royal purposes, -and for State purposes and for -“breaking in” purposes.</p> - -<p class="c016">What impressed me most was an old -chair on wheels—such as one sees invalids -moved about in. It was as -commonplace looking as one could well -imagine. To it were attached a pair -of shafts, and I recognized it at once -as there rose before me the vision of -the Queen, with broad brimmed straw -hat, and accompanied only by a little -child, usually one of her grandchildren, -while a humble donkey ambled through -the grounds of Windsor and pulled -the improvised carriage. Such was the -picture I had seen in the Sunday -school papers, and now the sight of the -actual carriage gave the much needed -air of reality. This mode of taking -exercise emphasized at once both the -Queen’s independence and simplicity -of manner.</p> - -<p class="c016">The Great Park, adjoining Windsor -Castle, contains 18,000 acres. Within -it is located Frogmore House, another -royal residence, near which is the Royal -Mausoleum. Everyone must have -been impressed, at some time or other, -with the faithfulness of the late queen -to the memory of the Prince Consort. -Throughout her long widowhood, she -seems to have lived in the presence of -his death. The monuments, that perpetuate -his name, unless one looks at -their artistic value, seem an extravagant -waste of money. Certainly he -rendered no conspicuous service to the -State, so that we are justified in regarding -these costly memorials as tributes -of the loyal and undying love which -the Queen cherished for her husband.</p> - -<p class="c016">Royal marriages, that are so frequently -the result of political exigencies, -are not always happy. Perhaps -it would not be wide of the mark to -say, are not often happy. All the -greater reason, therefore, that this one, -which was conspicuously congenial, -should iterate its testimony.</p> - -<p class="c016">On the fourteenth of December, the -anniversary of the Prince’s death, the -Dean of Windsor regularly held a memorial -service at the mausoleum, during -the lifetime of the Queen. Those who -had obtained tickets were admitted to -the mausoleum after the service, but -this was the only date in the year -when it might be seen.</p> - -<p class="c016">The foundation stone of the structure -was laid by the Queen, herself, -and contains the following words:</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="c016">“His mourning widow, the queen, directed -all that is mortal of Prince Albert, to be -placed in this sepulchre, A. D. 1862. Farewell, -well-beloved: Here at last I will rest with -thee; with thee, in Christ, I will rise again.”</p> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Windsor Castle has had a long and -varied history; it has been associated -closely with many of the kings of -England and with stirring scenes of -English history, but for many, many -years to come, its mention will call to -memory the good and universally beloved -woman—Victoria.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> - <span class="pageno" id="Page_174">174</span> - <h2 class="c002">THE FINEST HOTEL.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>A SKETCH OF LIFE IN THE MOUNTAINS OF KENTUCKY.</div> - <div>By A. Lytle Peterman.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="drop-capa0_0_6 c015">“Boys, is there a hotel in this -place?” the traveler asked of -two youngsters lounging near, -as he stood, suit-case in hand, -on the cinder path by the track, looking -inquiringly about him, while the -train pulled off down the road.</p> - -<p class="c016">“What place?” putting answer and -inquiry into one. It aroused their interest -and surprise to hear Montvale -called a “place.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“This village, or hamlet, or station, -or whatever you call it—is there a hotel -hereabout?” he replied, a little impatient -and determined to make himself -understood.</p> - -<p class="c016">“A hotel? Yes, <i>sir</i>,” answered the -larger of the boys.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Then I’ll thank you and pay you -to show me to it,” the stranger said, -as he brightened up, throwing off the -lost look that had struck his face at -the same moment his foot had struck -the cinders, when he stepped from -the train.</p> - -<p class="c016">“All right; up this a-way,” the -larger boy answered, as he turned into -the path, and the smaller fell in behind -him. The traveler and his suit-case, -side by side, brought up the rear. -The boys were agreeable, but not over-polite, -neither thinking to say, “I’ll -take the baggage.”</p> - -<p class="c016">When they had gone perhaps a hundred -yards, the traveler’s eyes all the -while seeking sight of a hotel and finding -none, the leader stopped suddenly, -raised his arm, pointed his finger back -down the railway, and remarked, -“The <i>finest</i> hotel is ’way down hyander.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Very well,” said the stranger, an -experienced traveler, therefore past -the “kicking” stage; “take me to the -finest.”</p> - -<p class="c016">The procession faced about, headed -down the track, retraced its steps, -passed the depot, and continued on -its way.</p> - -<p class="c016">But we are not yet to “the finest -hotel.” In fact, there is time to “view -the landscape o’er” before we arrive, -especially as the boys are quiet, remarkably -quiet for Kentucky boys—“mighty -say-nothin’ shavers,” as the -landlady afterwards described them -to her guest.</p> - -<p class="c016">It was dusk, on a Sunday evening -in September. The rain had just begun -falling gently—the prelude to the -first cool snap of the autumn. The -stranger had left the train to spend -the night, preparatory to his cross-country -trip on the following day.</p> - -<p class="c016">Montvale is a station on the Chesapeake -& Ohio Railway, in the mountains -of Kentucky, seventy-five or a -hundred miles east of Lexington. It -is of consequence chiefly because it is -on the road to somewhere else—the -point of departure from the railway -to the country lying beyond. Contrary -to the rule, its inhabitants -seemed to realize its urban limitations, -especially the meagerness of its population. -The two boys, unprepared for -such compliment, were surprised to -hear it called a “place.”</p> - -<p class="c016">At that time, less than a decade ago—and -doubtless ever since,—Montvale -straggled around over a wide expanse -of flat woods and weedy fields, -between ranges. Space to spare was -the most striking thing about it. The -land, too swampy for tillage, except -after elaborate artificial drainage, was -“good to fill a hole in the ground and -hold the world together.”</p> - -<p class="c016">The houses, after the “boxed” -style of carpentry, seemed not to have<span class="pageno" id="Page_175">175</span> -been built, but to have grown up, like -the weeds. They had never peeped -into a paint-bucket; their complexion -was that of the crawfish land on which -they stood. Most of the doors, off -the hinges, whether they ever had any -or not, stood leaning against the inside -wall, ready in case a storm or -other emergency arose.</p> - -<p class="c016">There was little direct communication -between the homes, partly because -the weeds overhung the pig-trails -of travel; partly because it was about -a Sabbath-day’s journey from each -house to its nearest neighbor; partly -because all paths led to or through -the depot yard, as the literal and figurative -center of the hamlet. The railway -station was at once the market, -the park, the amusement hall, the -shipping center, the business section, -the social resort, the lounging place, -the nursery and playground of all -Montvale. The railway track, with -the path beside it, was the main and -only street of the “place.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Just as the traveler was wondering -if they were going to tramp down to -the next station, the leader said, “Out -this hyer way,” turning off to the right, -through a sea of white-topped weeds. -The rain was still falling, and night -had come on. A few pale rays of the -moon, struggling through the clouds, -showed the boys’ heads now and then -bobbing above the watery weeds, like -porpoises at play on the surface of -the ocean.</p> - -<p class="c016">At last, the little procession reached -a plank fence with a gap in it. The -boys stopped, confronted the traveler, -and the leader said, “<i>This</i> is the finest -hotel anywhar about hyer.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Where?” the stranger asked.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Right yander—go through this -gate,” tapping with his hand a piece -of frame-work standing across the -path.</p> - -<p class="c016">The boys took the proffered pay, -dropped it into their pockets, thrust -their hands down to keep it from getting -out, and plunged again into the -depths of the weedy sea.</p> - -<p class="c016">The traveler peered through the -rain and fog into the yard, where the -weeds had lost so much of their stature -that he thought he must be nearing -the shore. He picked up the gate -leaning across the path, from panel -to panel of the fence, and set it out -of the way, remarking, “Everything -about here is off its hinges—I’m nearly -off myself.”</p> - -<p class="c016">He approached the “hotel,” consisting -mostly of “boxed” lean-to, -and rested one foot upon the sill of -the shed—by courtesy known as the -“porch.” He paused; in the language -of eastern railway danger signs, he -thought he would “Stop, Look and -Listen.” Silence and the clouds -reigned. No sound but the patter of -the drops on the roof. No light -gleamed from the skimpy window, -nor crept through the generous cracks -in the wall.</p> - -<p class="c016">He rapped at the door; no answer. -He rapped again—louder; still no -answer. There must be nobody at -home in “the finest hotel.” So he -hammered the rickety, raky, crazy -shutter just because there wasn’t, till -it shook, rattled and shivered, and the -boards on the rear wall creaked and -groaned in sympathy.</p> - -<p class="c016">A cracked, rasping, whining voice -from the inner depths called out, -“Well!”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Madam”—for that voice could -belong to none but a crone—“I want -to get to stay over night.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“This is a purty time o’ night to -be a-prowlin’ ’round, a-draggin’ uv -honest, hard-workin’ folks out’n the -bed ter wait on ye,” the landlady replied. -The reprimand came mixed -with the rattle of straw-ticks and the -rustle of bedclothing.</p> - -<p class="c016">“I am sorry,” the traveler answered, -“but I came as early as I could. -Really, I am neither the conductor, -engineer, nor superintendent of that -train. Don’t you keep hotel?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Yes, sorter, a leetle, sometimes, -when I feel like it. But can’t ye wait -tell a body gits on her cloze; ur will -ye jist come in anyhow, whether ur no?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Oh, certainly, I’ll gladly wait,” -the traveler said; “take your own -time—mine, too.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Whar air you frum?” asked the -voice from within, somewhat muffled -as it poked its head up through a -calico dress.</p> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_176">176</span></div> - -<p class="c016">“I don’t see what that has to do -with it, but I came directly from -Lexington.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Yes, I ’lowed so;” she answered. -“I jist thought it ’uz some o’ them -Bluegrass fellers what sets up all -night and sleeps all day—what hain’t -nothin’ to do but keep awake them -that has to work.”</p> - -<p class="c016">After taking time enough to have -arrayed herself for presentation to -the queen, Madame Calico now approached -the door, holding a little -sputtering brass lamp—apparently the -model of the first invention—in one -hand, while she vainly tried to tie her -apron strings with the other. She -knocked up the wooden latch with -her elbow and a clatter, and the door -swung open. Holding high her lamp—a -rustic model for “Liberty Enlightening -the World”—she waited for -the stranger to speak.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Madame, I’m very sorry—,” he -began.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Yes, I know it,” she snapped, -cutting him off from the remainder -of his sentence. “’Bout ever’ thing -’at comes frum Lex’n’ton’s sorry, -mighty sorry. Guess they’s some -good people down thar, but I hain’t -never seed ’em. They don’t never -come up hyer. I <i>reckin</i> you kin stay, -but I can’t give ye no bed all to yerself; -an’ I tell ye now, ye needn’t to -ax it.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Meanwhile, Madame Calico had admitted -him and led the way through -a side door into an adjoining room -which served as a lounging hall for -guests, whether “by the day” or “by -the week.” Having learned how to -make allowances for the moods of -hotels, landlords and landladies, he -had followed meekly, without invitation.</p> - -<p class="c016">By “the dim and flaring lamp,” he -now caught the outlines of a half-finished -stairway winding up to the -garret. There was no railing to this -gangway; safety consisted in keeping -away from the brink. Madame Calico -stood on the third step, her countenance -and kerosene jet beaming -contemptuously down upon the upturned -face of the hesitating guest -at the bottom.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Madam,” he asked, hearing, as he -thought, a chorus of snores winding -down the gangway, “does anybody -else sleep up there?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“No, they hain’t nobody hardly -now, sence the mill ’uz shot down.” -Rather an evasive answer.</p> - -<p class="c016">“How many?” he inquired.</p> - -<p class="c016">“The mill is shot down, an’ most -uv the hands has quit work, an’ they -hain’t many stays hyer now.”</p> - -<p class="c016">The guest, growing insistent, asked -the third time, as he took a single, -hesitating step upward, “Well, who -are they—can’t you say just how -many?”</p> - -<p class="c016">Madame Calico, now on the defensive, -grew more amiable—rather, less -hostile—, but again took refuge in -“the mill” and its shutting down: -“Sence the mill wuz shot down, -the’ve mos’ly all went away; they’s -hardly any ub ’em left now.”</p> - -<p class="c016">The guest was growing impatient, -as she could readily see. Not liking -the outlook, he stopped, turned as if -to descend, and once more demanded, -“Well, Madam, will you tell me just -how many or not?”</p> - -<p class="c016">She was loath to lose her guest and -his pay, “after a-bein’ drug out’n” -her bed. So she at last came to the -point, but in her own roundabout -way: “Sence the mill ’uz shot down -they hain’t nobody sca’cely sleeps up -hyer—nobody but Sam Thompson, -an’ Tim Turney, an’ Joe Alley, an’ -Bob Redford, an’ Jack Johnson, an’ -Bill Ed Jeckley—I b’lieve them’s -all—oh, yes, an’ Less Wilson. You -kin sleep with Bill Ed, but he won’t -sleep nowhar exceptin’ the fore side -uv the bed.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Well,” the traveler muttered to -himself, “in an adventure, even a -formidable certainty is better than a -gloomy doubt.”</p> - -<p class="c016">They had now reached the landing -at the angle in the wall. Madame -Calico handed the little lamp to the -guest, and turned to go, saying, “You -kin bunk up with Bill Ed.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“But how shall I know Bill Ed -from the others?” he asked.</p> - -<p class="c016">“W’y, he’s in the empty bed by -hisself; t’others is a-sleepin’ three an’ -four tergether. Bill Ed won’t sleep<span class="pageno" id="Page_177">177</span> -’ith none uv ’em, ’caze, he says, he -ruther sleep ’ith a meal-sack uv augers -an’ hammers then ’ith a man. Sometimes -I jist have to slip a stranger like -you in terhin’ him, an’ Bill Ed don’t -know nothin’ about it tell mornin’.”</p> - -<p class="c016">As she clambered down the gangway, -hugging the wall, and the new -guest crept up into the garret, he -called out, “What time do we rise in -the morning?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Oh, most any time,” she answered. -“Sence the mill ’uz shot down, ever’ -feller jist suits hisself about crawlin’ -out.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“About what hour?” he asked.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Well, when the mill ’uz a-runnin’ -we used to git up purty soon, but -sence hit ’uz shot down we’re all -sorter lazy-like, so we purty giner’ly -al’ays have late eatin’.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“But, Madam, please name the -hour for breakfast,” he insisted.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Well, you kin do purty much to -suit yerself sence the mill ’uz shot -down. Jest sleep ez late as yer -please. We al’ays eat late when comp’ny’s -hyer, sence the mill ’uz shot -down. So you git yer hands an’ face -washed an’ ready by four o’clock’ll -do.”</p> - -<p class="c016">No wonder the mill hands went to -bed before nightfall! They had to, -in order to get in in time to get out.</p> - -<p class="c016">Till now, the sounds coming down -from the garret had blended into -something like harmony. When the -new guest neared the top of the gangway, -it seemed to him like poking his -head into a den of infuriated wild -beasts. The roaring, growling and -groaning made “confusion dire and -dreadful din.”</p> - -<p class="c016">A glance around caused him to -wonder how many slept in that one -room before “the mill ’uz shot down.”</p> - -<p class="c016">The bedsteads were made from -pieces of undressed scantling, nailed -together; not one of them had ever -felt a plane or seen a chisel. The -little forest of posts and frames looked -like a railway trestle; and the groans -and sighs issuing from it sounded as -if an express train had just plunged -over, mangling passengers and crew. -The mill “hands” lay uncovered in -that stifling atmosphere, tumbled and -tangled into all shapes and attitudes, -looking like a band of contortionists -struck dead, each in the midst of his favorite -trick. There lay Bill Ed—two -hundred fifty pounds of mountaineer—spread -along the front railing, his arm -thrown out and hanging over, to keep -him from rolling back and wedging -himself under the rafters of the roof. -His was the “empty bed”—fairly on -the way to occupancy!</p> - -<p class="c016">The new guest, lifting his lamp and -peering over huge Bill Ed to the sleeping -place beyond, observed to himself, -“In the language of the sweet girl -graduate, ‘Beyond the Alps lies Italy.’ -The ‘valley’ is all right, if I can ever -scale the mountain.”</p> - -<p class="c016">But he found an easier way. He -undressed, sneaked into the “valley” -from the foot of the bed, and taking -care not to thrust his nose against the -roof, he stretched himself out, but -not to sleep—to listen! His entrance -had not disturbed the snorers. In -fact, it had seemed to give them a new -inspiration, for the expiration grew -louder. They might have supplied -steam enough to keep the mill from -shutting down. They made up a -whole band of wind instruments, each -blowing a different horn. The listener -now had time to analyze and classify -them.</p> - -<p class="c016">One sounded like a March gust -whistling through the splinters on the -end of a hickory rail. Another had -the hiss of the air-brake under a passenger -coach, when the train is about -to start. There was one gasp like -the continued tearing of brown domestic, -and another that made you -look around for a stream of broken -stones pouring into a tin bucket. -One long-winded horn, out of tune -with all others, hissed like a jet of -steam escaping from the steam-chest -when a heavy freight engine is beginning -to move. Bill Ed, evidently the -sawyer of the mill, had a long-drawn -snort like the sound of a circular saw -ripping through a seasoned oak, closing -with the confused ring of the steel -as it clears the end of the log, combined -with the clatter of the “carriage” -rushing back for a fresh start.</p> - -<p class="c016">To sleep amid such a din was a<span class="pageno" id="Page_178">178</span> -problem. By and by the traveler -dozed off, but not out of reach of that -roar—it lingered in the distance. At -last it ceased—the snorers had risen -and gone!</p> - -<p class="c016">Just when well asleep—so it seemed -to him—, a bell—it must have been -first cousin to the little lamp—tinkled -on the gangway. The traveler withdrew -from the crevice between rafter -and railing—where he had literally -lodged,—and turned over.</p> - -<p class="c016">By and by a cow-bell bellowed, not -rang, in the lounging hall below. -The traveler turned over once more, -yawned, slumbered again.</p> - -<p class="c016">After a time—the clock knew how -long—, a conch-shell thrust up the -gangway roared; and the sleeper, -thinking it a through freight, pushed -on, making for the next station.</p> - -<p class="c016">Another silence. At last, behold, -Madame Calico stood at the foot of -the gangway, and shouted: “Air you -a-gona git up to-day? Ur do ye want -me to git yer breakfas’ and then drag -ye out’n the bed, an’ put yer cloze on -ye, an’ wash ye, an’ chaw yer victuals -fur ye?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“I’ll be down in a moment, Madam,” -the traveler answered.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Ever’body but you has eat an’ -gone, an’ done furgot hit, by this -time,” she replied. “You’ll fin’ the -wash-pan a-settin’ on the porch.”</p> - -<p class="c016">He arose, dressed hurriedly, made -his way down, and by raking around -on the “porch,” finally stumbled -against the wash-pan. The morning -was still dark, but a gray spot was in -the eastern sky—daylight was on its -way to “the finest hotel.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Toilet finished, with the aid of his -handkerchief in place of a towel, he -began wondering where the dining-room -could be. He heard no footsteps -about the “hotel,” and search -revealed neither kitchen nor fire. -Peering around, he at last caught -sight of smoke curling up from a stick-and-clay -chimney some hundred yards -away, beyond a bay of the weedy sea -he had crossed the evening before. -Parting the weeds overhanging the -path was much like swimming across.</p> - -<p class="c016">Breakfast—varied, wholesome, well-cooked—was -on the table—had been -for an hour or more. Madame Calico, -first seeing him seated and busy, then -remarked, “You’ll jist have to wait -on yerself, but I reckin ye ain’t noways -bashful. I’ll have to go back -to the hotel to clean up atter ye. -It’s a blessed thing the mill’s shot -down, fur we couldn’t a-had no sich -layin’ up in the bed a-soakin’ an’ a-sobbin’ -this time o’ day, ’way hyer -might’ nigh dinner.” He was not -sorry to make his meal in silence, -peace and the landlady’s absence.</p> - -<p class="c016">Breakfast finished, the guest made -his way back toward his lodging place. -Turning the corner and confronting -the entrance, he read, on a board over -the shed, the name of “the finest -hotel,” “Traveler’s Rest;” and immediately, -by the law of contrast, -his memory reverted to the garret, -the snoring, Bill Ed and the “empty -bed,”—to the hand-bell, the cow-bell -and the conch-shell.</p> - -<p class="c016">Just before he paid his bill and -left, in quest of a turnout for the day’s -drive, Madame Calico, still in the act -of cleaning up, favored him with her -views on affairs in and about Montvale, -and divers and sundry bits of -information—some of a startling kind. -“No,” she said, “the hotel business -don’t amount to nothin’ much sence -the mill ’uz shot down. Wunst in a -while some feller comes stragglin’ -along way hyander in the night, when -all honest white folks is asleep, but -the trouble o’ waitin’ on ’im an’ -cleanin’ up atter ’im’s more’n the pay.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Them revenue men an’ marshals -an’ sich rakin’s an’ scrapin’s uv the -yearth has might nigh ruint Montvale. -A passel uv ’em comes here -t’other day—jist week afore last—an’ -axes me ’bout Sam Ben Jeckley’s -’stillery, whar it wuz. Sam Ben is -Bill Ed’s brother. An’ I up an’ tells -’em I don’t know nothin’ about it—hain’t -never seed it, nur smelt it, nur -tasted it, nur been about it, nur had -nothin’ to do with it, in no shape, size, -form, nur fashion.</p> - -<p class="c016">“They said they knowed it ’uz -around hyer somewhar. An’ sir, they -rummaged over this lan’ an’ country -a-s’archin’ fur that ’stillery—hit uz -the mill the hands worked at. Atter<span class="pageno" id="Page_179">179</span> -cavortin’ aroun’ two ur three days, -like a lot o’ male-cows a-tarrin’ up a -paster, they afinally finds the mill—’stillery, -as they called it—about two -miles frum hyer.</p> - -<p class="c016">“An’ they taken axes an’ smashed -the whole thing tell they wuz nuther -ha’r nur hide uv it left. An’ they -spilt out three tanks o’ sour-mash -byer, an’ we hain’t had none fur the -table sence. It beats all uv yer sasafac -tea, yer spicewood tea, an’ yer -Californy byer.</p> - -<p class="c016">“They poured out five barl’s uv the -best whisky—’cordin’ to what’s said -uv it—that ever went to town on -’lection day. They say jist one drink -’ould run a man wil’ enough fur the -’sylum, an’ one drap ’ould make a -rabbit pick a qua’rl with a bull-dog, -ef he had to spit in his face to do it.</p> - -<p class="c016">“It’s all sech ez that has ruint the -country—stark-nater’ly wiped business -out’n Montvale. The dirty, low-flunged, -lazy good-fur-nothin’ imps uv -the devil, prowlin’ aroun’, ’stroyin’ -what other people’s sweat has earnt!</p> - -<p class="c016">“But still they wuzn’t satisfied! -Then they went up above the mill—’stillery, -as they called it—, an’ -drawed the’r Winchesters an’ Smith -& Westerns, an’ farred bullets all -through the ruff, an’ poked the door -ez full o’ holes ez a sifter. They jest -blowed the whole thing bodyaciously -all to flugens an’ flinderations, with -the’r guns an’ pistols.</p> - -<p class="c016">“An’ that’s how the mill come to -be shot down,” she added, as her parting -guest once more lifted the gate -aside.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Good day, Madam,” he said, as -he lifted it back.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Wush ye well,” she answered. -“Ef ye’re ever hyer agin, come to see -us—I <i>reckin</i> we kin stand ye, an’ Bill -Ed won’t know nothin’ about it tell -he’s up an’ out. He may be gone by -that time any way, fur he’s speenied -to Feder’l Court up at Louisville purty -soon, fur a witness ’gin the government, -to swar Sam Ben an’ tother -’shiners out’n trouble.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Yes,” said the traveler to himself, -“when I put up again at ‘the finest -hotel,’ Bill Ed will be gone—to Federal -Court, or some lower or higher -tribunal.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_179.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_180">180</span></div> - -<div> - <h2 class="c002">INDEFINITELY POSTPONED.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>By Eva Williams Malone.</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<p class="c018">[During the period immediately following the Civil War, many former slaves, after -living in matrimonial harmony for years, were “married over again.” The writer recalls -several such instances on her father’s plantation in Tennessee.]</p> - -<p class="drop-capa0_0_6 c015">Mr. Josiah Crabtree, gentleman -of color, Grand Master of the -Lodge of Colored Masons and -holder of various other offices -of emolument and trust, had, -metaphorically speaking, run against -a snag. Being a plain and simple man -of direct methods, the ornate made -small appeal to his mentality. However, -Mr. Crabtree had consented to -argue the matter; and, in differences -matrimonial, the husband who argues -is lost.</p> - -<p class="c016">“But, Penelope,” he began—he always -called his wife Penelope when -they disagreed, possibly because she -disliked the name—“Penelope, what’s -de use ob it? Here we is been libin’ -togedder, happy an’ contented wid de -few words Uncle Jake said ober us dat -ebenin’ in de cabin on de ol’ plantation. -Dey tuk us all fro’ war times, -an’ we ain’t nebber fit yit; an’ what in -de name o’ peace you want t’ hop up -an’ git mahried all ober agin at dis late -day fur, beats my time! You ought -t’ know by now dat I ain’t gwine quit -you; an’ effen you ain’t pleased wid -me, all you got t’ do is t’ say de -word.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Mrs. Crabtree tossed her comely -black head, and said petulantly: -“’Pears lak I can’t git no notion o’ -style or keepin’ up wid de pussession -in yo’ nigger haid! You don’t seem t’ -hab no mo’ ambitions dan a mole! -You t’ink jes’ ’case we-alls had suttin’ -ways in slave times, dem ways gwine -fit de presen’ suckumstances. In cose -it were ’missible for us t’ g’long satisfied -wid de few words from Uncle Jake -den; but dat don’t prove it’s de propper -t’ing <i>now</i>! We’se innerpennant -’Merican citterzens dese days; we’se -got as good a right t’ go t’ de Cote -house as de next un.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Fo’ de Lawd, Penelope! you ain’t -gwine trot me t’ de Cote House effen -I gib in t’ you ’bout dis mattah, is -you?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“You got t’ go t’ de Cote House fo’ -de license, you po’ fool nigger you! -All de ladies an’ gemmens in our -S’ciety is bein’ mahried ober agin, wid -a license an’ a ring, an’ a preacher, an’ -flowers an’ sech! It make me feel reel -slavish, it sho’ do, t’ go on libin’ lak we -is been. I’m de Seccertary o’ de Good -S’maritans, an’ Sist’ Hapgood ain’t -nothin’ but a privit member; yit her -an’ Brer Hapgood done been mahried -agin las’ mont’ wid a gol’ ring an’ dat -beutiful piece writ about ’em in de -paper. It make me feel pintedly lef’ -out in de col’—it suttinly do;” and a -few self-pitying tears fell on the shirt -bosom Mrs. Crabtree was ironing.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_180.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">“I’m de Seccertary o’ de Good S’maritans.”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_181">181</span></div> - -<p class="c016">“But what you gwine -do ’bout Orleeny an’ Cato?” -asked Mr. Crabtree, -referring to the ebon-hued -pledges of their conjugal -love.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Do? Nothin’ ’tall; -ain’t nothin’ t’ be did! -Des let ’em come ’long t’ -dere Ma’s an’ Pa’s weddin’, -an’ unnerstan’ dat -effen we wuz bawn in -slavery, an’ got mahried -by jumpin’ de broomstick, -we’se keepin’ up wid de -pussession now. Mis’ Hapgood -had her Aleck as one -o’ de ushers when her an’ -he’s pa got mahried las’ -mon’; so we’ll des let our -Orleeny be de maid o’ -honnah. Dat’s de berry -lates’ style.”</p> - -<p class="c016">So, despite his perfect -content with matters as -they were, Mr. Crabtree -listened to the siren voice, -and finally consented, -after twenty years of apparent -matrimony, to have -the entire thing done -over again according to -post-bellum methods, and in a style -befitting American citizens living in -the full blaze of an amended constitution. -Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Crabtree were -to be married again; by a preacher, -with a license, in a church, with a gold -ring. Orleeny was to be maid of -honor, and Cato, in all the glory of -white cotton gloves and other festal -accessories, was to be usher in chief. -In his honest soul Mr. Crabtree thought -the whole thing unmitigated nonsense; -but, like many a man with a lighter -skin, concluded that, if nothing else -would make his wife happy and give -her proper éclat before the members -of her S’ciety, he would consent to be a -reluctant victim on the altar of matrimonial -precedent!</p> - -<p class="c016">“Effen you gwine do the t’ing, you -might ez well do it right”—was his -conclusion, in which his progressive -wife fully coincided. A tidy little sum -that had gradually accumulated in the -bank was drawn out; and preparations -for the belated nuptials went on apace. -It was to be not only a church wedding, -but a S’ciety wedding likewise, -where the various “Orders” with -which Mr. and Mrs. Crabtree affiliated -were to appear in full regalia and lend -spectacular glory to the occasion.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_181.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">A few self-pitying tears fell on the shirt bosom Mrs. Crabtree -was ironing.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">“Dere ain’t nothin’ fitten to be -bought in dis heah measly little town,” -argued Mrs. Crabtree. “We’ll des git -on de cyars an’ go ober t’ de county -seat an’ lay in de trosso; you’ll hatter -go dere for de license anyhow.”</p> - -<p class="c016">By the time they had purchased a -“trosso” befitting a sixteen-year-old -bride, Mr. Crabtree’s arms were heavy-laden. -The bride-to-be, radiant with -visions of her coming loveliness, -beamed upon him and insisted that an -entire suit of black broadcloth for the -groom was indispensable.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Why, Pennie, it ’pears lak dat las’ -blue suit dat ol’ Mas’ gin me ’ud do -berry well. We could shine up de -brass buttons an’ freshen it up wid<span class="pageno" id="Page_182">182</span> -benzine—” protested Mr. Crabtree, -with prudent consideration for his -fast diminishing exchequer.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Now, honey,” insisted Mrs. Crabtree -in her most coquettish manner, -“you don’t ’spose I’m gwine ’low a -good-lookin’ man lak you t’ ma’ch up -de ile in dat ol’ blue suit, an’ me des -ez fresh ez de mawnin’ jew in dat -white swiss an ’dat long veil! An’ -you de Master o’ de Lodge, too? It -’ud be scan’lous!”</p> - -<p class="c016">So the broadcloth suit was added to -the multitudinous bundles; and, at -the suggestion of Mrs. Crabtree, deposited -with their grocer for safe keeping. -Then the bridal pair hastened -towards the courthouse to procure -the license. When this priceless document -had been filled in with due solemnity, -Mr. and Mrs. Crabtree felt -their ante-nuptial arrangements were -well-nigh perfected. As, arm in arm, -and at peace with all the world they -ambled towards the grocery store to -reclaim their relinquished packages, -Mrs. Crabtree exclaimed:</p> - -<p class="c016">“Lawsee, Si! we done furgit de ring!”</p> - -<p class="c016">The selection of the golden circlet -that was to bind them in renewed -wedded security was so momentous a -question that the sun was slipping behind -the hills before it was satisfactorily -accomplished. At this juncture -the absorbed bridal party recalled the -fact that it must be nearly train time.</p> - -<p class="c016">“We’ll des race ober t’ de grocery -sto’ an’ grab up our bundles an’ scoot -t’ de depo’—” urged Mr. Crabtree as -he impelled his panting companion -onward.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Your bundles? Ah, yes; to be -sure,” said the custodian of the “trosso;” -“they’re all right. The colored -man you sent after them carried them -to the station some time ago.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“De cullud man whot I sont atter -em?” ejaculated Mr. Crabtree, with -bulging eyes.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Yes, he said you had been delayed, -and would go straight to the train -from the courthouse. Isn’t that all -right?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Golly! I should say it wan’t all -right!” cried the prospective groom, -forgetting in the stress of the moment -the dignity becoming the Master of the -Lodge. “I ain’t never sont nobody -atter dem bundles; I wouldn’ a trusted -’em wid de preacher hisse’f effen he’d -a been a dark-complected genterman! -What for looks was dat thievin’ -nigger?”</p> - -<p class="c016">The grocer’s face wore a look of -puzzlement:</p> - -<p class="c016">“Why, I couldn’t tell for my life. -I didn’t notice him specially; I just -supposed of course you sent him. -Better go over to the station—maybe -you’ll find your stuff there all right.”</p> - -<p class="c016">But this cheerful prophecy failed of -fulfillment, as no clue to the missing -“trosso” or its mysterious purloiner -could be gained.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Dem Jingo mines closed down -yistiddy, an’ dis heah town’s full o’ -loafin’ thievin’ niggers—” Mr. Crabtree -explained to his wife after two -hours’ diligent search had failed to -disclose any clue to thief or packages; -“some ob ’em is hyerd us ’scussin’ our -plans, an’ has followed us an’ swiped -dat trosso.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Which very plausible solution did -credit to Mr. Crabtree’s powers of -discernment.</p> - -<p class="c016">Weary, footsore, with blighted hopes -and flabby pocket-book, a disgruntled -colored gentleman and lady boarded -the midnight train for Ducktown. -On the lady’s finger a golden circlet -gleamed in mocking irony; from the -gentleman’s coat pocket a superfluous -marriage license protruded.</p> - -<p class="c016">“What you gwine do about it?” -the gentleman finally took heart of -grace and demanded of his sulky -spouse.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Don’t ax me what I’m gwine do! -Effen I tole you, you’d be sho’ t’ put -in an’ do sumpin t’ spile de whole -puffommance. You might a knowed -sumpin gwine happen t’ dat trosso -when you tuhn it loose.”</p> - -<p class="c016">With true feminine logic Mrs. Crabtree -entirely overlooked the fact that -the relinguishment of the packages -was her own suggestion.</p> - -<p class="c016">“I can tell you one t’ing,” she resumed -with asperity, “dere ain’t gwine -be no weddin’ wid dat trosso gone a -glimmerin’! You can des put dat in -yo’ pipe an’ smoke it!”</p> - -<p class="c016">Later, as Mr. Crabtree extinguished<span class="pageno" id="Page_183">183</span> -the candle before retiring, he observed -that his wife took a vial labelled -“<i>Ipecac</i>” and stealthily deposited it -beneath her pillow. But for this -timely observation, the violent illness -with which Mrs. Crabtree aroused the -household the next morning would -doubtless have caused graver concern -in Mr. Crabtree’s kindly soul.</p> - -<p class="c016">For some days Orleeny, whose -epistolary attainments were the pride -of the Crabtree household, was closeted -with her suffering parent; and later, -each individual who had been bidden -to the intercepted nuptials received -the following announcement:</p> - -<p class="c016">“Owing to the suddent illness of -the Bride, the marriage of Mr. and -Mrs. Josiah Crabtree have been indeffanately -bosboned.”</p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div> - <h2 class="c002">TO ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>BY ISABELLA HOWE FISK.</div> - <div>“Carry the lad that was born to be king over the sea to Skye.”</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">Thoughts wait upon me, grateful thoughts that throng</div> - <div class="line">Prayer-wise and eager. To the master’s feet</div> - <div class="line">I fain would speed them, offering tribute meet.</div> - <div class="line">But, mute for very love, I cannot voice my song.</div> - <div class="line">Dear chief of utterance, I have lingered long</div> - <div class="line">As at deep wells in shimmering noons of heat,</div> - <div class="line">And like dumb beasts that drain the waters sweet,</div> - <div class="line">I, too, have quenched my thirst, and, silent have grown strong.</div> - <div class="line">Dear Louis—best of kings to bear the name.</div> - <div class="line">I think a smile still quivers on thy face</div> - <div class="line">That oval-wise, soul-white and bravely strong,</div> - <div class="line">Bears eyes, that look low loves and lives to shame.</div> - <div class="line">Thou, unawares, hast learned new lore of upward ways,</div> - <div class="line">And wondering taught the words—“The king can do no wrong.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_184">184</span></div> - -<div> - <h2 class="c002">TRAINING SCHOOLS IN TENNESSEE AND THE SOUTH.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>By James H. Kirkland, D.C.L., Ph.D.</div> - <div>Illustrated by views of the Campus, Vanderbilt University.</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-capa0_0_6 c015">It is the purpose of this paper to describe -an educational movement -that has grown largely out of -the influence of Vanderbilt University. -In its relation toward secondary -schools this institution has been -impelled by the necessity of securing -students. At the opening of the University -there were two methods of -procedure open. One was to put the -requirements for admission at a point -where they could easily be met even -by untrained pupils; the other was to -adopt a high standard, exclude unprepared -students, and accept the -burden of getting them ready to meet -these requirements. It has been this -latter policy that has brought about -the vital connection between Vanderbilt -University and a large number -of preparatory schools.</p> - -<p class="c016">Southern educational conditions are -bad enough now, but they were far -worse in 1875, the year Vanderbilt -University opened its doors. At that -time the public school systems of the -South were striving to get under way -and make some impression on the mass -of illiterates. Nothing could be attempted -outside a few favored cities -in the way of public high schools. -The common schools were running -ninety-three days in the year, spending -81 cents per capita of population -and meagerly educating 45 per cent of -the school population. Clearly it was -useless to await the coming of the -public high school. The old antebellum -academies for the most part -had passed out of existence. Here -and there a few survived, preserving -charters that antedated the war and -memories of happier and more prosperous -existence. If the early copies -of the reports of the Commissioner of -Education are consulted there will be -found few secondary schools having -any historic background. The Episcopal -High School near Alexandria, -Va., has a charter dating from 1854. -The Abingdon Male Academy was -organized in 1822, and the Bingham -School at Mebaneville, N. C., in 1793. -These and quite a number of others -opened again after the end of the Civil -War, but most of them had a brief and -uncertain career. In the report for -1877, the earliest one at hand as this is -written, we find also mentioned the old -Mt. Zion Institute of Winnsboro, S. C., -then in charge of R. Means Davis, who -was afterwards prominently known in -the educational history of that state. -Others are the Hanover Academy, -Taylorsville, Va., the Yeates School, -Belleville, Va.; Fletcher Institute, -Thomasville, Ga.; Dawson Institute, -White Plains, Ga. The Madison Academy, -Rutledge, Tenn., has now become -a public high school, the Sam Houston -Academy at Jasper, Tenn., has given -place to Pryor Institute, and Green -River Academy at Elkton, Ky., to the -Vanderbilt Training School at the same -place. Of all those mentioned only -two, the Episcopal High School and -the Bingham School, seemed to be -really taking up the task of preparing -students for college. Each of these -sent ten students to college from the -class of 1877.</p> - -<p class="c016">As an attempt to meet the educational -needs of the South, quite a -large number of new schools sprang -into being between 1870 and 1880. -These were generally considered academies<span class="pageno" id="Page_185">185</span> -or secondary schools, but undoubtedly -most of their pupils were -of an elementary age. In many cases -the teachers were unprepared for their -tasks. They were doing the best they -could, trying to instruct according to -the needs of their pupils and trying to -make a living for themselves. Many -an old soldier and many a good woman, -whose property was gone and whose -natural supporters had fallen on the -battle field, took up these opportunities -to earn a scant subsistence. From -such schools, few if any students went -to college. The preparation was insufficient, -the atmosphere of school life -was not such as to awaken a desire for -a college education, and the colleges -made no effort to get in touch with the -schools. In the report just mentioned, -of 1877, about forty such schools—male -academies—are enumerated in -Tennessee, yet it was a rare thing for -one of their pupils to go to college.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_185.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c016">In general the preparation for college -was done by the colleges themselves. -Practically all established preparatory -departments; in many cases -the college professors taught these departments, -and frequently they contained -more students than the college -classes proper. As endowments had -been swept away and state appropriations -hardly begun, the faculty had to -be supported from the fees alone. In -1877 East Tennessee University, now -the University of Tennessee at Knoxville, -Tenn., is credited with 195 preparatory -students and 90 college students; -the University of Mississippi -with 257 preparatory and 174 college -students; South Carolina College with -95 preparatory and 89 college students. -Where some other institutions give no -reports of preparatory students, we are -inclined to believe it was because these -had been fully incorporated with college -students, under a most injudicious -system of grouping, rather than that -they were altogether lacking. From -that system with all its faults we have -not yet recovered. The best Southern -colleges and universities have tried to -eliminate this preparatory work, and<span class="pageno" id="Page_186">186</span> -where this could not be done, they -have established independent academies, -dissociated from all connection -with the college proper. But -quite a large number have not been -able to take this step and still maintain -the confused practice of reconstruction -days.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_186.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Worse than the evils above enumerated -was the creation of a number of -chartered colleges and universities that -were really nothing more than high -schools, and in many cases did not -furnish as good an education as an -honest academy. Such institutions -of course never sent students to college, -but rewarded with baccalaureate -and master degrees attainments insufficient -to grace a freshman. Instead -of being friends and fosterers of -education, these institutions have often -been its worst foes. They have served -to transform ignorance into conceit, and -make impossible true progress on a -substantial basis. Boom towns have -started universities as an advertisement; -local high schools are called colleges -in order to gratify local pride, and -college degrees have become a farce. -Thus we have in every Southern State -colleges whose libraries contain less -than a hundred volumes, whose scientific -apparatus could be hauled away -in a cart and cost less than $100, and -whose endowment is nothing.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_187.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c016">When Vanderbilt University opened -its doors in 1875 it had no intention of -receiving preparatory students; indeed, -its first plan was to receive only -such students as had completed half -of their college course. Hence, preparation -was made for two college -classes and two university classes. -But with the coming of the first class -the ideals of the faculty were rudely -shattered. A crowd of earnest but untrained -students poured into the college -halls. A large number of the -courses that had been provided was -found to be unsuitable and uncalled -for, while there was an imperative demand -for elementary classes in English, -mathematics, Latin and Greek. -In his report on the first year’s work<span class="pageno" id="Page_187">187</span> -Chancellor Garland stated that if the -University had stood firmly by its -rules it would have rejected fully two-thirds -of those who had presented -themselves for matriculation: “few -had any power of fixed and prolonged -attention or any practical knowledge -of the modes of successful study.” -In this way, then, Vanderbilt University -found itself compelled to begin -preparatory classes. These were continued -for twelve years under protest. -They were not advertised, no effort -was made to secure students for them, -but there were always enough candidates -to make them a necessity. This -continued until 1887 when they were -finally abolished and the task of preparing -students for the freshman class -was boldly thrown upon the schools of -Tennessee and the South. The immediate -result of this step was alarming. -Many prospective students saw -it was needless to apply for admission, -and of those that did apply a large -per cent had to be rejected. The number -of literary students fell to 112 in -1889-90; only 29 students finished the -year in freshman English, and only 16 -had been enrolled during the whole -year in freshman Greek. But slowly -the situation began to improve; schools -arose to do the work demanded by the -University and the number of students -surpassed even the totals of former -years. Gradually, too, it was seen that -the University had not merely furthered -its own interests, but had been -the means of building up a whole system -of training schools, thereby directly -influencing for good the educational -development of Tennessee and -setting an example to the whole South. -The results of this movement are -worthy of special consideration.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_188.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Perhaps the University would not -have dared to make the experiment it -did if it had not felt sure of at least -one strong school on which entire reliance -could be placed from the very -beginning. This was the Webb School, -which had then been in operation -seventeen years and which had recently -been moved from Culleoka to Bell<span class="pageno" id="Page_188">188</span> -Buckle, Tenn. Shortly before Vanderbilt -University was founded Mr. -W. R. Webb came to Tennessee from -North Carolina to engage in school -work. Educated at Bingham School -and the University of North Carolina, -he had become familiar with the best -methods of school work and realized -the great need of such work in the -South at that time. The establishment -of a university in close reach of -his school gave him an objective point -for his labors, and his students were -very promptly turned in that direction. -So successful was the Culleoka school, -from the very beginning, that in a few -years Mr. John Webb, a younger -brother, was brought in as partner. -It would be hard to overstate the value -of the work of these two men for Tennessee -and the South. For thirty-five -years they have labored, and have put -their stamp for good on at least 2,500 -Southern boys. Their patronage has -come from every Southern State and -the size of their school has been limited -only by the number they were willing -to receive. Their old students are -scattered over all the world. A year -ago when this writer was in Constantinople -without an acquaintance, as he -supposed, within a thousand miles, he -was surprised to receive a call from -the resident physician of Robert College, -who was an old Webb boy, delighted -at the chance of seeing some -one he had known while at school. -The Webb School has always been considered -unique. Its buildings are -plain and its furnishings are of the -simplest kind. It has no scientific apparatus, -for it is strictly a classical -school. But it has a good library, -the doors of which stand open winter -and summer, day and night, and the -books are used. Life is keyed to a -high tone in the schoolroom, and the -boys feel it. Form counts for little—perhaps -too little—but substance -counts for much. Professional students -of pedagogy, visiting the school, -go away surprised—and grieved, for -they do not find much respect shown -their pet theories. The whole school<span class="pageno" id="Page_189">189</span> -is wrapped up in the personality of -the two men who have made it. Some -of the Tennessee training schools could -not have come into being or could not -now continue without the support of -Vanderbilt University, but the Webb -School would have been a success under -any circumstances. When the -surroundings at Culleoka did not seem -to be suited at one time to the success -of school work, Messrs. Webb quietly -informed the citizens that they would -move the school, and they did. The -success of the Webb School, as well -as the demands of Vanderbilt University, -have made it easy for other -schools to come into being.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_189.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c016">The Mooney School deserves mention -next on our list. In 1886 Messrs. -S. V. Wall and W. D. Mooney took -charge of the school at Culleoka. -After three years they removed to -Franklin, Tenn., where they built up -the well-known Battleground Academy. -About eight years ago Mr. Wall -removed to Honey Grove, Texas, where -he still has a large school. Mr. Mooney -continued the work at Franklin. In -1902 his school building was destroyed -by fire, and he was induced to move -to Murfreesboro, where handsome -grounds and buildings had been provided -for his use at an expense of about -$30,000. The Mooney School has furnished -many students to Vanderbilt -University and they have frequently -carried off the honors of the University -for high scholarship. The Wallace -University School was opened in Nashville, -in 1886. The principal, Mr. -C. B. Wallace, impressed himself so -strongly on his pupils and patrons that -a building was soon erected for his use -in order to fix his school at Nashville. -The Wallace School has sent more -pupils to Vanderbilt University within -the past ten years than any other -school except Webb’s, and in proportion -to its enrollment it is far ahead of -any in University attendance. Fourteen -of its graduates of June, 1904, -entered Vanderbilt a few months later.</p> - -<p class="c016">But it is necessary that our sketch -proceed more rapidly. The popularity<span class="pageno" id="Page_190">190</span> -of the training school idea began -to be manifest in many quarters. In -McKenzie there had been established -an institution known as McTyeire -College—a college doing the work for -an academy. Later this was transformed -into McTyeire Institute, and -Joshua H. Harrison, a Vanderbilt -graduate, was put in charge. At -present this school has for its principal -James A. Robins and is growing in -strength and influence every year. -In 1892 the Louisville Methodist Conference -established the Vanderbilt -Training School at Elkton, Ky. This -action was taken against the efforts of -many who wanted a college, and is another -proof of the recognition of sound -educational values.</p> - -<p class="c016">Quite a large number of other schools -can be enumerated that owe their -origin more or less directly to the policy -of Vanderbilt University. Among -these are the Branham and Hughes -School, Spring Hill, Tenn.; the Peoples -School, Franklin, Tenn.; the Morgan -School, Fayetteville, Tenn.; the Smyrna -Fitting School, Smyrna, Tenn.; -Pryor Institute, Jasper, Tenn.; Union -City Training School, Union City, -Tenn.; Dresden Training School, Dresden, -Tenn.; McFerrin School, Martin, -Tenn.; Howard Institute, Mt. Pleasant, -Tenn.; Jonesboro Training School, -Jonesboro, Ark.; Fordyce Training -School, Fordyce, Ark.; Bridgeport -Training School, Bridgeport, Ala.; -Luna Training School, Franklin, Ky.; -Smith Grove Academy, Smith Grove, -Ky.; Weatherford Training School, -Weatherford, Texas; Hawkins School, -Gallatin, Tenn.; Fitzgerald School, -Trenton, Tenn.; Cornersville Training -School, Cornersville, Tenn.; Training -School, Anniston, Ala.; Bowen School, -Nashville, Tenn.; Training School, -Thomasville, Ala.; Culleoka Academy, -Culleoka, Tenn. Not all of these -schools have been equally successful; -some of them, perhaps, have ceased to -live, but the training school idea is -stronger to-day than ever before. In -some communities this kind of work -finds little support or encouragement. -Consequently, no training school can -live or succeed there. Honesty and -thoroughness are the qualities that -have marked Vanderbilt training -schools, and some people wish neither -of these in educational work. Educational -shams and fake universities and -colleges still command the admiration -and patronage of many.</p> - -<p class="c016">Special attention should be called -to the Branham and Hughes School at -Spring Hill, Tenn. Though one of the -youngest, this is now the largest and -one of the most flourishing of the Tennessee -training schools. Recently -$15,000 has been spent for improvements -of property. The enrollment -for the present year is 316, and nine -teachers are employed. The Peoples -School at Franklin, Tenn., and the -Morgan School at Fayetteville, Tenn., -are also meeting with great success. -Both of these have strong local support, -having been provided with splendid -new buildings, with dormitories -and gymnasium; both have strong men -at their head and more than 200 students -apiece.</p> - -<p class="c016">The result of this movement is that -Vanderbilt University now receives a -majority of its incoming class from -the best schools in the South. In the -fall of 1903 seventy-five students entered -the University from schools more -or less directly affiliated with Vanderbilt -and imbued with Vanderbilt ideals. -In September, 1904, four schools furnished -the University fifty students. -Within the past ten years ten schools -have furnished the freshman class -with more than five hundred students—that -is, more than fifty every -year.</p> - -<p class="c016">Greater still is the result that has -been accomplished for the general -cause of education. While the Webb -School has furnished the University -about one hundred students in ten -years, it has in that same time assisted -in educating seven or eight hundred. -Many of these did not finish their course -at school, some finished and attended -other universities, more finished and -went to work. But on all the influence -of those years of earnest, thorough -school work will be an incalculable -benefit. Similar is the record of all -the other schools.</p> - -<p class="c016">Still another outgrowth of this -movement has been that training<span class="pageno" id="Page_191">191</span> -schools, owing no allegiance to any -particular university, have sprung up -in many points and are contributing -largely to the intellectual development -of our people. Excellent schools of -this character may now be found in -Memphis, Chattanooga, Atlanta, Birmingham, -Montgomery, Mobile, and -many small places.</p> - -<p class="c016">Stimulated by Vanderbilt’s example, -the Association of Colleges and Preparatory -Schools of the Southern -States has been formed, an organization -that is devoting itself to the upbuilding -of good preparatory schools, -whether public or private, and the -enforcement of a respectable standard -of admission to college.</p> - -<p class="c016">Finally, we may ask the question -whether this work will be permanent. -Will not these schools disappear -before the advance of the public high -school? Perhaps so, to some extent, -but never entirely. The public high -schools have made great progress in -Mississippi and Texas, stimulated by -the demands of the state universities, -but elsewhere in the South their progress -is still slow. A recent article by -Commissioner Harris gave a most -cheering account of the growth of public -high schools in the South. In that -he records one hundred public high -schools for Tennessee, with more than -5,000 students. But the records of -the Commissioner himself will show -that not as many students go to college -from all this number as from half a -dozen Vanderbilt training schools. In -fact, one is forced to doubt the accuracy -of many returns. For example, -twenty-five of these hundred schools -report a four year high school course; -but only three years are reported for -the high schools at Nashville, Knoxville, -Jackson, Murfreesboro, and Columbia. -Only Chattanooga and Memphis, -of the larger cities, claim to have -a four year course. The twenty-three -other superior high schools are in -many of the most unexpected localities. -White’s Store reports a four year -course, with one teacher and twenty-five -pupils; Piney Flats, a four year -course, with one teacher and twenty-one -pupils; Dancyville, with one -woman teacher and twenty-two pupils; -Chuckey City, with one woman teacher -and six pupils. From statistics such -as these it is dangerous to make hasty -generalizations.</p> - -<p class="c016">Let the public high school come as -rapidly as possible. Vanderbilt University -will be its friend and fosterer, -as it has been in the city of Nashville. -But in any event it will ever remain -true that a great work for education -has been accomplished in its relation -to private secondary schools. It was -truly said by President H. N. Snyder, -of Wofford College, some years ago; -“If ever Vanderbilt University has had -a mission, and has fulfilled it greatly -and even gloriously, it is in the way -it has helped to form what we understand -as training or fitting schools.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_191.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - <span class="pageno" id="Page_192">192</span> - <h2 class="c002">THE FOREIGN WIFE.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>By Claude M. Girardeau.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class="c026">CHAPTER I.</h3> - -<p class="drop-capa0_0_6 c015">It was the last of January, 1815. -The harbor of the city of -Charleston was enveloped in a -cold gray fog, that rose above -the ramparts of the sea wall and advanced -its phantom cohorts upon the -houses facing the Battery, capturing -their outposts one by one, gradually -submerging gable-end and piazza, surmounting -tiled roof and overtopping -chimney, until at nightfall the city, -like a second Germe Ishausen, although -resting upon the surface of one ocean, -was buried in the impalpable profundity -of another.</p> - -<p class="c016">Invisible to the eye, even at the -distance of a few yards, the street -lamps were mere ineffectual points of -light in the dense and watery atmosphere.</p> - -<p class="c016">The solid wooden shutters of the -Battery houses were tightly battened -so that they presented an impenetrable -front to the fog, which nevertheless -insinuated itself beneath -threshold and window-sill and made -its ghostly presence felt upon the very -hearths where fires of pitch-pine and -seasoned ash were lighted to dispel -the dampness.</p> - -<p class="c016">At the conjunction of the South and -the East Battery, the mansion of Governor -Grantham occupied the right angle -of the corner, its stone steps encroaching -upon the narrow sidewalk. Overhanging -them, at the second story, the iron -balcony bore upon the middle panel -of its rail the entwined “G. G.” of the -eldest son of the house of Grantham -from time immemorial.</p> - -<p class="c016">A visitor admitted beyond the front -door would have found himself in a -dark and somewhat cramped hall, or -entry, from the center of which -mounted a flight of carefully waxed -stairs, leading to an upper hall of dimensions -more in keeping with the -outward aspect of the building. Turning -to the right and guiding one’s steps -warily over its icy surface, converted -into a mirror by the daily brush of -the slave, one would have been ushered -into the drawing room, an apartment -high of ceiling, scant of furniture, also -slippery of floor, extending perhaps -fifty feet along the west side of the -mansion. On this account it was -easily convertible into a ball room.</p> - -<p class="c016">Although it was half an hour since -the conclusion of the last meal of the -day, this room was unoccupied—at -least at first glance. Then in its extreme -end appeared a pleasing tableau -in the blazing firelight—a tableau -that in the fifty feet of polished perspective -might have been mistaken for -an oil-painting by a master-hand for -mural decoration.</p> - -<p class="c016">A divan of turquoise-blue damask -had been rolled up to the chimney-piece -and upon the soft white fur of an -immense cloak thrown over one end of -it, reclined a woman. Her white -draperies were scarcely distinguishable -against the fur, in which she sank luxuriously. -Closer inspection would -have remarked the rise and fall of her -bosom but partially concealed—one -might say almost entirely revealed—by -the transparent material of her bodice; -for she was attired <i>a la Grecque</i>, in an -Indian muslin embroidered in silver -lama, whose diaphanous skirt clung -to her lower limbs as the wet sheet -clings to the sculptor’s model.</p> - -<p class="c016">The short puffed sleeves of her -Josephine waist left her beautiful -arms entirely naked save for the cameo -medallion in white and rose-color, set -in thin gold, at her wrists. Her figure -so openly displayed was of sufficient -elegance to excuse the frankness, but -beautiful as were its proportions, attentive -admiration would have been -first bestowed upon her face, oval,<span class="pageno" id="Page_193">193</span> -ivory-tinted, under a superb quantity -of pale red hair confined by a classic -fillet of gold with a pendant of pearl -upon her white forehead. Her elongated -eyes, half closed in reverie, were -apparently dark grey, with heavy lids -whose lashes cast crescented shadows -upon her cheeks.</p> - -<p class="c016">Her full, red lips were slightly open, -disclosing the even edges of milkwhite -teeth, giving a luxurious, sensuous and -somewhat cruel expression to her vivid -countenance. Her languid head -leaned upon one fair hand, whose long -fingers were embedded in the thick -mass of hair, the elbow supported by -the curved shoulder of the divan. -The other hand, dazzling with jewels, -held in her lap an ivory-handled fan of -flamingo feathers, rose-colored like her -cameos and the knot of velvet ribbon -at the depression between the soft -elevations of her bosom.</p> - -<p class="c016">Occasionally she surveyed the foot -resting upon the blue damasked hassock; -it was slim and arched, encased in -a heelless white satin slip-shoe which -barely covered the toes and was -strapped about the ankle and visibly -halfway up the leg by narrow white -ribbons. The flesh-colored stockings -met skin-tight silk under-garments of -the same hue, conveying the impression -of a body clad in a single dress, -according to the fashion of the day -for those whose perfection of figure -permitted or excused it.</p> - -<p class="c016">When the contemplation of the foot -lost interest, the young woman—for -she was hardly more than twenty-three—would -draw from its hiding-place -behind the rose-colored velvet -loveknot a medallion set in brilliants -attached to a slender gold chain of exquisite -workmanship, whose fine thread -fell upon her delicate shoulders from -the necklace of spinel rubies which -embraced her swan’s throat like linked -pomegranate seeds or tiny drops of -transparent blood.</p> - -<p class="c016">An East Indian screen with numerous -painted silk panels framed in -ebony, stood in fantastic zigzags behind -the divan, and the thick, blue-flowered -damask curtains of the shuttered -casements had been carefully -drawn; nevertheless she shivered now -and then and pulled up about her -arms her yellow scarf of Canton crepe -heavy with silk embroidery and fringe.</p> - -<p class="c016">Wax candelabra in silver-gilt were -reflected from the paneled mirrors and -in the shining floor of polished rosewood, -pervading the apartment with -a light at once soft and lustrous.</p> - -<p class="c016">Just above the mantelpiece, dominating -the entire <i>mise en scène</i>, hung -an oil painting, a portrait by Copley of -the master and mistress of the mansion. -The lady in becoming a Grantham -could not forget that she had been a -Vizard, and therefore closely related -to the last of the Royal Governors of -the Province.</p> - -<p class="c016">The two figures were represented -seated at a table engaged in a game of -chess, the position of the pieces indicating -a decided “check” on the part -of the lady, whose haughty countenance -appeared somewhat flushed with -anticipated victory.</p> - -<p class="c016">The motive of the composition had -evidently been at her suggestion, for -her husband’s face expressed polite -resignation either to superiority of -skill or the triumph of accidental -good fortune, giving him a position of -secondary importance more or less -unmerited.</p> - -<p class="c016">His daughter-in-law half asleep before -the fire, glanced up at the two -figures for the hundredth time and -yawned as one—even a pretty woman—yawns -in the freedom of solitude: -that is to say, open-mouthed.</p> - -<p class="c016">The tap, tap of a cane came across -the desert of waxed rosewood.</p> - -<p class="c016">“My dear Nadège, I sympathize -most cordially with you,” said a voice -at the young woman’s elbow.</p> - -<p class="c016">Nadège turned her ruddy head -languidly and opened her sleepy grey -eyes upon the fantastic figure before -them.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Why do you sympathize with me, -my dear cousin?” she inquired. Her -English was perfect, with, perhaps, a -slight foreign precision rather than -accent.</p> - -<p class="c016">The dear cousin sat down upon the -divan beside her. She was an ancient -dame whose much wrinkled face, surmounted -by the mingled purple and -yellow dyes of an extraordinary turban,<span class="pageno" id="Page_194">194</span> -was still alive with a pair of malicious, -sparkling black eyes. She -grasped a tall cane at arm’s length in -her skinny left hand, confronted the -yawning beauty sharply, pressing a -pointed forefinger of her equally skinny -right claw upon the middle of the -loveknot.</p> - -<p class="c016">“You were stretching your mouth in -the very face of Madam and the Governor. -I saw you. It was done openly, -without so much as the interposition -of fan or finger. How often -have I done it myself!” She chuckled -at the thought. “You are bitterly -regretting that you ever left St. Petersburg -to bury yourself alive in this provincial -capital of a republican colony. -Is it not so, <i>ma chère</i>?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Perhaps you are right,” admitted -the accused, “but it is only because -Geoffrey is away. I declare, you -people are so amusing.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Amusing? Then why do you yawn -at us?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Ah! If I were only in Paris! -How I hate the English.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Sh!... Reflect! Madam Grantham -is English” (with an upward -glance of deviltry), “the Governor, my -cousin, is English, I am English, -Geoffrey is English, you are—”</p> - -<p class="c016">“No, no! I am not. Not in the -very least bone of me. That is why I -find you so amusing. You cherish -English blood, you boast loudly of -your English connections, you cultivate -English manners—which God -knows thrive without much cultivation—! -You emblazon your English -coats of arms with their bastard French -mottoes, on your carriage doors, your -silver plate, your slaves—”</p> - -<p class="c016">“One would think we branded them, -to hear you,” interpolated the old lady, -with amusement, “but go on—go on. -Let us have the full extent of the indictment.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“And where is Geoffrey now?” continued -Geoffrey’s wife; “and where -were the Granthams in 1719, in 1749, -in 1775? Why, fighting the English -for dear life.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“That is more English than anything -else,” retorted her cousin-in-law. -“What would you have Geoffrey do? -Stay at home?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“By no means. I encouraged him -to go. But then I thought he would -take me with him since he was so -absolute of victory.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Take you with him? On board a -privateer?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“There were other modes of transportation.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“My dear child! He could not be -willing to have you exposed to danger.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Ah!—so he said.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Surely you do not blame him for -that? Why do you not amuse yourself -in his absence?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“With whom, pray?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“If the gallants of the city could -but hear you!”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Perhaps I would endeavor to find -amusement in any other place than -this. Truly I am dazed with ennui.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“I know, I know! I have not lived -elsewhere myself for nothing. These -ridiculous provincials forget that the -Nevsky Prospekt and the Boulevards -were ancient ways when King and -Queen streets were Indian trails and -the Battery a sandbank.”</p> - -<p class="c016">She gazed into the glowing fire and -fell into a retrospection; the path of -memory led from the past to the -present, so she said after a time:</p> - -<p class="c016">“I heard something to-day that may -interest you.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“I thought there was scandal in the -wag of your turban, and gossip in the -tap of your cane.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Oh, you did? Well, you are an -impudent baggage, madam. This is -neither the one nor the other, yet, inasmuch -as recounted to an indiscreet -ear it might cause both, I think I -should not repeat it.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“I assure you, cousin, you may rely -upon my discretion. Since Leonora’s -absence there is no one but yourself -to talk to.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Thank you, madam, for the implication,” -retorted the old lady, rising -and executing an extraordinary courtesy -with her most witchlike expression, -then sitting down again: “The -Governor, my cousin, is of your mind. -Poor man, he confides in me, and I -would not betray his confidence. But -you are a foreigner—forgive the phrase, -as it only means that you will understand -without being prejudiced—and I<span class="pageno" id="Page_195">195</span> -run no risk in telling you what he said -to me. It was more to ease his mind -than to obtain advice; for which I was -properly grateful, as I had only sympathy -and not counsel in the simples -of my pharmacy.”</p> - -<p class="c016">While she discoursed in this illustrative -strain the listener said to -herself:</p> - -<p class="c016">“Lord, will she never come to the -point? What a garrulous old parroquet.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Then aloud:</p> - -<p class="c016">“Your introduction is perfumed -with interest. I am more curious to -hear than ever. What has happened, -or is going to happen, that excites -your sympathy, or would justify advice? -(I will let her see that I can -turn an English period as glibly as -herself!)”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Well, then, to be brief, Mistress -Geoffrey, Captain Grantham is coming -home. Hence the arrival, post-haste, -of the Governor at a time that affairs -of state should have detained him in -the capital.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“<i>Captain</i> Grantham? Who is he?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“A well-known officer in the French -army. A personal friend of Prince -Eugène de Beauharnais.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Ah, yes; I saw him once in Paris. -A very young man at that time. But -handsome, gallant and dashing. Altogether -the <i>Frenchman</i>.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Geoffrey should hear you,” replied -the old lady dryly. The other laughed:</p> - -<p class="c016">“Seeing that Geoffrey is an officer -in the American navy I do not think -he would have any fault to find with -my eulogy of French gallantry. I am -rejoiced to hear that this flower of -chivalry is coming home. Now that -the Bourbons are in power again I -suppose he finds his occupation gone.”</p> - -<p class="c016">But Miss Anne was looking into the -fire, the ghost of a smile puckering -her bloodless lips disagreeably.</p> - -<p class="c016">“You might be rejoiced to hear it -in Paris or Petersburg, but not in this -place; no, not in this place.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“You are right, I daresay. In -Charleston I have discovered that a -brother-in-law is a blood relation, not -a flimsy connection by marriage. -Flirtation with one is therefore robbed -of all its venom—of all its fascination, -also. Still, as I remember Captain -Grantham—”</p> - -<p class="c016">“This is not the one you remember.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“You said Geoffrey’s brother?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“<i>Sans doute</i>! But Reginald’s -brother also.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Reginald’s brother? You speak in -riddles; you have just said it was Reginald’s -self. Is he not Captain Grantham?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“No; I should have said his <i>alter ego</i>. -Reginald is now <i>Colonel</i> of artillery.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Another Grantham!”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Truly; and about the same age.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Oh, a twin.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“By no means. You saw one -brother in Paris, but I do not think you -saw the other. Yet, very likely you -did; they are, I am told, wonderfully -alike. They were at the Ecole Militaire -together. The relationship is -unmistakable except to those who -will not see.”</p> - -<p class="c016">The old gossip laughed aloud, enjoying -the other’s mystification.</p> - -<p class="c016">“What singularity!” exclaimed Nadège. -“Pray go on. I am no longer -bored. I can even regard this portrait -without a yawn. Who is this -Captain Grantham? And why should -I not know him here or see him in -Paris? You tell me he is famous and -the companion of princes.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“He has a name of his own. It is -descriptive and picturesque, besides -being symbolic.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Ah? Pray pronounce it.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Brugnon.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“What then? Where is the symbolism?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Well, then, this Monsieur Brugnon is -like his brothers Reginald, Garrick, and -Geoffrey in all respects save one; unfortunately, -the most important one of all.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“What is it? Why have I been kept -in ignorance of this, since it is evidently -a family affair? What is this difference -of such vital importance?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“His color.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Mistress Geoffrey sank back into -her furry nest, her expression of lively -curiosity and irritation instantly effaced -by one of bland indifference.</p> - -<p class="c016">“I see. Why does he not remain -in Europe? He is a fool to come here.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“So he is,—but he does not know it. -He wrote to his father, the Governor,<span class="pageno" id="Page_196">196</span> -your father-in-law and my cousin, to -say that since the abdication of the -Emperor and the enforced residence of -Prince Eugène in Vienna, he revolts -from the service of a <i>lackey at court</i> -after the activity of the battlefield, and -now desires to <i>see his own people</i> once -more and his home—the home of -his childhood, the plantation, the other -<i>Court</i> hardly less celebrated than—”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Yes, yes, I know,” exclaimed Nadège -hastily, “named for the English -estate of the Granthams near Twickenham, -Middlesex, which contains -‘fourteen hundred acres of land, and -gardens, fishponds, hedges, terraces -and fountains unsurpassed by anything -in the South.’ My memory, -you see, is excellent.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“You have been reading the family -annals of late?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Oh, no; it was not necessary! Tell -me, cousin, is this <i>petite histoire</i> generally -known?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Yes: the Governor was much censured -for sending the boy to France, -and his rapid promotion has been a -sore on the foot of those who will tread -him in the very mire when he comes -to see <i>his own people</i>, poor devil.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Why does the Governor permit -his return?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“He cannot help it. Brugnon wrote -that he would take ship at once.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Who is his mother?” was the next -question.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Ah, who knows?” And Miss Ann -peaked up her sharp shoulders under -their gay flowered silk covering and -wagged her oriental headgear until -the filigree silver ornaments in the -lobes of her large ears jingled audibly.</p> - -<p class="c016">“I think I could guess,” she added, -with a wizened smile at her companion, -“but what difference? Society here, -my dear Nadège, as you have already -discovered, is in the hands of the men. -We women are the vases on the mantelpiece.” -She grinned in Mistress Geoffrey’s -face: “Some of us are particularly -decorative. Mistress Grantham, for -example.”</p> - -<p class="c016">The younger woman eyed meditatively -the sharp yellow face under the -resplendent turban.</p> - -<p class="c016">“One has a good view from the -mantelpiece,” she began, when a -young man entered the room and advanced -to the fireplace.</p> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>[<i>To be continued.</i>]</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2 class="c002">WHEN NELLIE SMILES.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>By D’Arcy Moore.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">When Nellie smiles across at me,</div> - <div class="line">She’s well worth coming miles to see.</div> - <div class="line">Deep dented dimples find a place,</div> - <div class="line">Best suited for their added grace,</div> - <div class="line">The one on either side her face,</div> - <div class="line in2">Dan Cupid capers high in glee</div> - <div class="line in6">When Nellie smiles.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">When Nellie smiles, dear girl, at me,</div> - <div class="line">Her blue eyes twinkle roguishly;</div> - <div class="line">She bows her dainty head the whiles</div> - <div class="line">(She’s mistress, past, of woman’s wiles)</div> - <div class="line">And thus the willing wretch beguiles.</div> - <div class="line in2">Ah! surely there is witchery</div> - <div class="line in6">When Nellie smiles.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">L’Envoi:</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">If you would keep your peace of mind,</div> - <div class="line">So often wrecked by woman-kind,</div> - <div class="line">Be warned in time. While yet you may—</div> - <div class="line">Cover your eyes and run away</div> - <div class="line in6">When Nellie smiles.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - <span class="pageno" id="Page_197">197</span> - <h2 class="c002">SERIOUS PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE TO-DAY</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>By Charles Baskerville, Ph.D.,</div> - <div>Professor of Chemistry, the College of the City of New York.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="drop-capa0_0_6 c015">Dr. Charles Baskerville, whom we -present this month to our readers, belongs -to the younger generation of -Southern men who are giving evidence -of their capacity for leadership in fields -other than political and forensic. Born -in Mississippi in 1870, he is now, at the -age of thirty-five, head of the Department -of Chemistry in the College of the -City of New York. After his graduation -at the University of Virginia, he spent -some time studying in Germany, and -was called upon his return to the University -of North Carolina, where he occupied -the chair of chemistry. He is -the author of a text-book on chemistry, -and has written numerous articles on -scientific, educational and technological -subjects. He has distinguished himself -in the field of original research and experiment, -and belongs of right to the -select band of scientific men who in -these latter days, are so eagerly bringing -to the light the laws that govern phenomena -in the wonderful world of -Nature.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_197.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c016">The world to the human interpreter -appears as a paradox -of complexes. Scientific progress, -during late years, has not -been along the lines of the least resistance. -One who has to do with the -problems of nature is fascinated by the -difficulties. Lord Rayleigh attached -this motto to his recently issued, but -already famous, “Collected Papers:”</p> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">“The works of the Lord are great</div> - <div class="line">Sought out of all them that have pleasure therein.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">To be sure, the gratification of overcoming -obstacles is often the only -compensation.</p> - -<p class="c016">Science has a wide range in the size -and nature of the things with which it -deals. With the microscope, it enlarges -for vision the unseen world of -bacterial life; with the telescope it -draws the celestial bodies near and interrogates -them with the spectroscope; -it drags the lifeless element from the -inanimate world, curiously plays with -it and then puts it to man’s use, while -seeking his origin and forcing him -ever to show cause for his existence -and right to question.</p> - -<p class="c016">Much of the very recent work in -physical science has distinct leanings -towards metaphysics. It is scarcely -to be wondered at, when the experimental<span class="pageno" id="Page_198">198</span> -data obtained appear to question -tenets which devotees have become -accustomed to regard as immutable. -Facts are stubborn, however. -When they cause the giving away of -the least portion of the boundaries of -our cherished systems, the imagination -is unchained. The discovery and -development of our knowledge of the -wonderful phenomena of radio-activity, -about which much that is true and -more that is false have appeared in -reputable journals of a not remote -date, ensample the groping of our restlessness. -These marvels, according to -those who have worked with them -most and whose opinions deserve the -first consideration, spontaneously and -continuously give out energy appreciable -to the senses.</p> - -<p class="c016">Where does this energy come from? -Where does it go? One mudsill of -science is the law of the conservation of -energy. This division of science has a -host of investigators busy with the -problem of sustaining this fundamental. -The harvest, which is not all -grain but contains some tares, indicates -that substances, which we have been -pleased to regard as elemental constituents -of nature, undergo voluntary -alterations. Some appear to be breaking -down into simpler matter, while -others are building up. This virtually -carries us back to the days of the -alchemist.</p> - -<p class="c016">It is a long story, which may not be -related here, the deep-seated belief of -most chemists in the unity, hence -transmutation, of the elements. It is -a far cry to its accomplishment, however. -We need not go back to the -time of the black-art for other examples -of efforts to transform one element -into another. Victor Meyer sought to -build up thallium shortly after Crookes -found it. Winkler dissipated Fittica’s -transformation of phosphorus to arsenic. -So chemists will be busy asking -questions of Ramsay’s formation -of a body like lead, through the agency -of penetrating rays of radium.</p> - -<p class="c016">Another foundation stone of science -is the law of the conservation of matter. -J. J. Thompson, from experimental -work, explains certain observations by -the existence of substances called electrons, -a thousand times smaller than -hydrogen, which we have regarded the -lightest chemical element. The electrons -appear to carry an electric -charge. One farther step is then -taken by the Cambridge professor, who -says these corpuscles are electricity. -They are attenuated matter. Electricity -is a form of energy. We need -no law for the conservation of the -matter. Ostwald has taught that -when one struck his shin on a chair in -the dark, it was not the solid wood, -but the force involved which produced -the sensation. One would not have -been conscious of the existence of the -obstacle, but for the energy. Matter -is energy.</p> - -<p class="c016">Here one is on the boundary lines of -experimental science and dealing with -a metaphysical problem. It must not -be forgotten, however, that two hundred -years ago any suggestion of the -Röntgen rays could well have been -placed in a similar category.</p> - -<p class="c016">Whether the explanations be accepted -or not, it may be noted that -Lodge has already illustrated, by -beautiful lecture experiments, the possibility -of a practical utilization of the -facts of some of the observations. -Fog is easily dissipated through the -agency of electricity. The application -of the principle on a gigantic scale, to -a city like London, may yet be realized.</p> - -<p class="c016">There are in the world, as is well -known, numerous organisms belonging -to the vegetable kingdom that do -not resemble at all any of those things -we are accustomed to look upon as -plants. These bacteria are extremely -small. They are from .00002 to -.00004 inch in diameter. They are -studied, not by ordinary vision, but by -means of microscopes and by microscopes -of only the very best kinds. -They are, also, studied by their effects. -They propagate very rapidly. Starting -with one organism they may grow, -within twenty-four hours, to 281,470,000,000 -individuals. This rapidity of -growth does not actually take place in -nature; it is checked through natural -conditions, or through excretions of -the organism inhibiting such propagation.</p> - -<p class="c016">We hear a great deal as to the production<span class="pageno" id="Page_199">199</span> -of virulent diseases through -the agency of bacteria; but, while -there are evil bacteria, there are, also, -bacteria that are good. In short, we -may understand, that all good bacteria -are not dead bacteria. These -bacteria exist in very large numbers -in the soil. The upper portion of rich -garden soil may contain, on an average, -from one to five millions per cubic -centimetre. This number may be very -much greater, depending upon the -amount of decomposed matter that is -present and the favorable conditions -for their propagation.</p> - -<p class="c016">We are accustomed to think of bacteria -as living only on the richest food -and being the cause solely of putrefaction. -This is not true. There are -bacteria that live on the bare rocks and -get their sustenance from those rocks -and the surrounding air. Under these -conditions they actually store up food -material. They are really miracle -workers. They render the soil fertile -and the farmer is largely dependent -upon them for the growth of his crops. -They reduce mineral substance to the -powdered form, assist in storing up -organic matter for the soil and thus -render it suitable for the growth of -higher plants.</p> - -<p class="c016">Under the influence of sunlight the -green portions of plants, by absorbing -carbon dioxide from the air and water -from the soil, produce starch, which -is one of the important foods for animals. -This is not the work of bacteria, -yet some of these organisms are -capable of accomplishing similar work -in the dark. It has been suggested -that they derive their energy directly -from the oxidizing processes that they -set up. This is one of the problems -of the soil bacteriologist.</p> - -<p class="c016">Many micro-organisms act upon nitrogenous -matters and destroy them, -in that the substances are rendered -less available for higher plants. These -are denitrifying agents. There is another -class of these micro-organisms, -however, that takes nitrogenous -food, which is only a little or not -at all utilized by higher vegetables, -and makes it available plant -food. These micro-organisms thus -contribute to the fertility of the soil. -They oxidize ammonium compounds, -from whatever sources they may be -had, and form nitrites first and then -nitrates. The nitrates are used by -common plants. The nitrifying bacteria -are composed of two groups of -active agents: one group serves to -make the first change, namely from -ammonium compounds to nitrites; and -the other, to change the nitrites to -nitrates. The conditions most favorable -for their activity are just the opposite -for most other micro-organisms. -In a soil having much organic matter -already decomposed, these bacteria -may be practically inactive until the -decomposition has passed certain -stages. During this transition, the -soil is barely suited for crops. Nitrification -requires the oxygen of the air; -denitrification can go on in a compact -soil with the least portion of the atmosphere. -So really the soil is cultivated -largely to favor the growth and propagation -of the nitrifying bacteria. -The result of experimentation has -shown that this may be facilitated in -some cases by denitrification first, and -in other cases by stirring the soil for -the penetration of the air, and again -by applying lime to the soil to overcome -the acidity. Professor Burrill -recently said, “Some day farmers will -come to understand that specialists -working in the laboratory, and for -years gazing through microscopes, are -gaining knowledge for them.”</p> - -<p class="c016">While many bacteria do not necessarily -render food available for plants, -they are most valuable in putting -useless matters out of the way. One -of the absolutely essential chemical -elements for the growth of plants is -nitrogen. It is most expensive. It -is present in the greatest unavailable -abundance, constituting three-fourths -by weight of our entire atmosphere, -and it is, also, the one element most -likely to be deficient in the soil. It -constitutes an essential constituent of -albumenoid material. Under the influence -of the denitrifying bacteria, it -is converted into ammonium compounds, -which are converted then -through the nitrifying agents into nitrates. -The nitrates are extremely -soluble in water; consequently, there is<span class="pageno" id="Page_200">200</span> -no tendency towards the accumulation -of the valuable food matter in the soil, -as the same is leached out. The growing -green plant is surrounded by the -food that it wants but, as with the -Ancient Mariner, there is not a drop -to drink. Green vegetation cannot, -or only to a limited extent can, absorb -and utilize directly the free nitrogen -of the air.</p> - -<p class="c016">As a result of a long series of experiments, -it has been learned that -there grow excrescences, somewhat -similar to galls, on the roots of certain -plants. These natural structures have -a character peculiar to the species of -plants on which they occur. In a -manner not understood, these tubercles, -inhabited by bacteria, are capable -of securing sufficient nitrogen from -the air for their own growth, when the -soil is practically able to furnish none. -Other plants, next door, without these -nodules, will die of starvation.</p> - -<p class="c016">The number of bacteria in these -nodules is very great but, although -countless, they are insignificant compared -with those in the soil outside. -Those within the nodules, however, -are specifically different from those -without, perform different functions, -and appear to be characteristic of the -particular plant in which they exist. -The leguminous plants, as peas, beans, -clover, have these peculiar nodules. -Other plants, however, like maize, -cotton, wheat, are devoid of these -assistants.</p> - -<p class="c016">It has been known for a long time -that the fertility of the soil could be -augmented by rotating the crops and -thus adding nitrogen to the soil by -means of these leguminous plants. -One of the problems engaging the attention -of scientific agriculturists at -present is to learn whether or not these -leguminous organisms may be made -to form tubercles on other plants, as -for example corn or wheat. The importance -of the successful issue of such -experimentation requires no emphasis. -While successful results have not -yet been reported, something has been -learned: namely, the fruit of corn may -be very much modified in its chemical -composition by breeding. Grain very -much richer in nitrogenous matter has -been grown by changes in the breeding. -Such grain is a better food.</p> - -<p class="c016">This is indeed a day of almost excessive -specialization in science: -Great things have been accomplished -by the intense method. Some have -thought, and spoken their thoughts, -that such tended to carry men of -science away from the contemplation -of a unit or the system as a whole. -Not a few have argued, perhaps with -reason, that the great generalizations, -as for example Darwin’s theory of -evolution, were no longer to be hoped -for. It is impossible for any single -brain to follow the details of the varied -branches of science. It is rare that -one man pretends to know the detail -of that division of science to which he -gives attention. It is equally true, -however, that many systematic minds -are gathering, collating and publishing -in readable form accurate summaries -of details in the several branches. -Men of broader vision are gathering -these authentic digests and offering -concepts, which encompass the phenomena -of the Universe.</p> - -<p class="c016">Such have been hinted at as the -efforts of some to do away with what -we have been pleased to term axiomatic -truths. Whether this be desirable, -is really of no moment. The -facts point to the present movement -of efforts to simplify matters. The -most beautiful things after all are the -simplest. This idea, of course, should -not convey the impression of being -boldly plain.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> - <span class="pageno" id="Page_201">201</span> - <h2 class="c002">“THE MESSAGE OF THE VIOLET.”</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>By G. D. G.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="drop-capa0_0_6 c015">Down the long corridor swept -the theater-goers, men in the -sober black and white of evening -clothes, women in the -brightest of theater gowns. Debutantes -paused to chat with college men -as they found their way to boxes and -orchestra chairs; bachelors stopped to -talk of the affairs of the day before -taking their places in the front rows. -The old playhouse was fast filling, for -it was “The Princess of Tyrolia” that -night.</p> - -<p class="c016">With the first notes of the orchestra -a young man hurried down the aisle -and dropped into a seat far back in -the shadow of the balcony. His eyes -swept hastily over the audience and -then became fixed on a box near the -stage.</p> - -<p class="c016">“I knew she would be here,” he -murmured softly; “she could never -keep away from this music.”</p> - -<p class="c016">It was a pretty picture he found to -gaze upon and it was little wonder that -he looked but seldom at the stage. -More attractive even than the rows of -gorgeously dressed girls in the chorus -was that box near the stage. Seated -toward the front was a young girl, just -rounding into the beauty of the woman—while -retaining all the freshness -of girlhood. Behind her laughed and -chatted a few companions of her own -age, but she kept her eyes fixed upon -the stage and seemed to fairly revel -in the beauty of the ringing chorus. -To her the music seemed everything, -and the great bunch of violets in her -hand was beating unconscious time -to the march.</p> - -<p class="c016">Far back in the shadow the boy, -for he was little more, leaned forward -and watched the rapidly changing -expression on her face. He followed -the action of the play only through the -varying moods which found a reflection -in her eyes. Many times had he -watched her thus, haunting the theaters -only to sit unobserved and gaze -longingly at her every moment that he -could, then slipping quietly away before -the curtain dropped to avoid -meeting her in the throng. Never -once, in all the long months, had their -eyes met, and if she had been conscious -of his presence she had given no sign.</p> - -<p class="c016">“It has been a long time,” he muttered, -moving restlessly in his seat. -“What a fool a man can be when there -is a woman in the case.”</p> - -<p class="c016">He had met her only the summer -before, a summer filled with little excursions -to nearby resorts where city -folk threw off the burden of formality -in the jolly little dances and moonlight -strolls. How it all came back to him -now—the open pavilion with the negro -musicians, the rapturous waltzes and -the swinging two-steps and the long -talk on the broad veranda afterward, -talk of nothing of great importance -but which now seemed to him to be -worth years away from her.</p> - -<p class="c016">Then had followed the autumn and -the return to the city. The long evenings -at her home, where the soft glow -of the candles behind a crimson shade -had lent a new beauty to her clearly -moulded features. She had loved the -soft light of the candles as she had -loved the moonlight. It had seemed -that everything about her had -breathed of softness and quiet. -Changing moods she had shown—he -had often called her his “Maid of infinite -variety,” but each new mood -had given her a new attraction in his -eyes; every new phase of her character -had brought her closer to him.</p> - -<p class="c016">It all passed in rapid review before -him. Now he sat in the old lawn -swing beside her, now he turned her -music as she sang the old songs they<span class="pageno" id="Page_202">202</span> -both loved. He remembered the -good-byes at the gate and the long -walk to the city afterward. There -had never been cigars with so sweet -a flavor as those which kept him company -on the long way home. Just the -moonlight and the blue smoke and -thoughts of her.</p> - -<p class="c016">But it had ended at last. Only a -misunderstanding which caused a -growing coldness and then a sudden -interruption of his dream. He had -been too proud to ask but once for an -explanation—she was as proud as he. -It had been months since the two had -met—months when the city seemed to -be as lonely as only a great city can.</p> - -<p class="c016">“It’s hard,” he muttered, and -though his lips kept their stern, almost -defiant expression, his eyes had a half -appealing look as they rested upon -the girl in the box.</p> - -<p class="c016">As the music broke into a new strain -the girl leaned suddenly forward in her -chair and her face showed a new interest. -Then her eyes dropped and -she seemed to be in a deep study. It -was “The Message of the Violet” -now, and as the lovers on the stage -began the song the audience was -hushed into silence. Over the footlights -came the strains, mellow, vibrant, -charging the very air with the -smell of violets and of spring. The -girl saw instead of the picture on the -stage a vision of a summer night, a -quiet corner on the old veranda. The -music floated toward them while the -dancers swept over the floor and he -was repeating to her the story of his -love. She had listened half in joy, -half in fright, and tears had mingled -with smiles before a bevy of laughing -girls had called them back to the dance.</p> - -<p class="c016">The song ended and a great burst of -applause awoke the girl from her -reverie. Her eyes turned instinctively -toward the audience and far back in -the shadow she saw him, his eyes half -covered with his hand. Over her swept -a new feeling, a sudden resolve. She -fingered the violets on her lap as the -song rose once more into the chorus:</p> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">“I love you, love you, love you,</div> - <div class="line">And my heart’s true blue.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">The young man felt a tap on his -shoulder. A boyish usher was dropping -a tiny bunch of violets into his -hand.</p> - -<p class="c016">“From the young lady in the third -box,” he said.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2 class="c002">WHOSE TEMPLE YE ARE.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>BY ISABELLA HOWE FISK.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">In the quarry of its earthly life,</div> - <div class="line">Works the soul.</div> - <div class="line">Though it suffer toil and strife,</div> - <div class="line">Thy control</div> - <div class="line">Canst hew out the rough material</div> - <div class="line">For a master-builder’s plan;</div> - <div class="line">And the soul shall rise ethereal</div> - <div class="line">From the structure of the man.</div> - <div class="line">In beneath the granite arches</div> - <div class="line">Swings the spirit’s censer fair,</div> - <div class="line">And amid the ritual arches</div> - <div class="line">Incense rises through the air.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div class="figcenter id002"> -<span class="pageno" id="Page_203">203</span> -<img src="images/i_203.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> -<div> - <h2 class="c002">Lyrical and Satirical</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>CONDUCTED BY VERMOUTH.</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<h3 class="c026">WHAT’S THE USE?</h3> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>(A Rhyme of Spring Fever)</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">There’s so much to do and there’s so little time,—</div> - <div class="line in12">What’s the use?</div> - <div class="line">There’s so much that’s prosy and so little rhyme,—</div> - <div class="line in12">What’s the use?</div> - <div class="line">The fishing is fine and you can’t get away,</div> - <div class="line">And you have to sleep night time instead of by day,</div> - <div class="line">And when you feel gloomy you’ve got to be gay.—</div> - <div class="line in12">What’s the use?</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">Most folks are stupid and very few true,</div> - <div class="line in12">What’s the use?</div> - <div class="line">If the evenings are purple, next mornings are blue,—</div> - <div class="line in12">What’s the use?</div> - <div class="line">If mentally strong you are morally weak,</div> - <div class="line">And you never attain what you most fondly seek;</div> - <div class="line">You choose a companion and find him a freak,—</div> - <div class="line in12">What’s the use?</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">The good are as bad as the wicked are pure,—</div> - <div class="line in12">What’s the use?</div> - <div class="line">The famous unhealthy, the saintly obscure,—</div> - <div class="line in12">What’s the use?</div> - <div class="line">And when you have passed through the dark vale of tears,</div> - <div class="line">And St. Peter enjoins you to cast off your fears,</div> - <div class="line">You’ve got to sing hymns for some six million years,—</div> - <div class="line in12">What’s the use?</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<h3 class="c022">AN INTERESTING PLOT.</h3> - -<p class="c016">The rumored threat of President -Castro of Venezuela to overrun and -lay waste this fair land of ours is not -creating the popular interest that -such a dread announcement might be -supposed to arouse. Possibly public -sentiment is not entirely convinced -that His Presidency would act the -bully merely because it is in his power -to do so. So far only a single element -has exhibited jingo propensities, but -there is no telling how far it may go -to embroil the nation in a sanguinary -entanglement that could have but one -possible termination. The lone disturbing -element in question consists of -a party of intrepid soldiers-of-fortune -fictionists, comic opera librettists, pure -humorists and promotors of high-class -vaudeville who are keen to feel the -possibilities of so much rich material -being imported to their very doors. -Richard Harding Davis is reported to -be mobilizing a bunch of bold buccaneers, -ably assisted by Mr. Dooley, -George Ade, Dinkelspiel, O. Henry -and other intrepid spirits, to meet the -incoming hosts and apply for syndicate -privileges. That the situation demands -finesse and diplomacy, however, -is obvious, for all would be lost -should some irreverent band of roving -cowboys round up and rope the outfit -before they could get at it, or should -some thoughtless and lacking-in-humor -police squad run amuck and confine -the layout in some local bastile. The -amusement loving public might be -expected to at least stand between -this patriotic movement and such a -dread contingency.</p> - -<p class="c016">The following may be reasonably -conceived as the final preparation for -the impending invasion: President -Castro: “Are the choruses well drilled -and are the comedians and soubrettes -in good voice?” Leader of the Orchestra: -“Si, Senor.” President Cas.: -“Are the costumes new and up-to-date,<span class="pageno" id="Page_204">204</span> -and is scenery in good order and packed -for shipment?” Master of Properties: -“Si, Senor.” President Cas.: “Has -the vanguard of press agents and bill -posters taken the field?” Booking -Agent: “A most formidable array, -your Augustness.” President Cas.: -“Then on the road! And may your -performances prove so meritorious -that you will carry everything before -you till you reach the great Metropolis -itself. This feat your proud people -expect you to accomplish in time for -the fall openings.” After which labored -and patriotic outburst the president -lit a cigarette and called for a -demi-tasse with which to restore his -depleted energies.</p> - -<h3 class="c022">HARD LUCK.</h3> - -<p class="c016">It was his sixtieth birthday and in -times agone he had fondly anticipated -the arrival of that occasion as marking -a happy fruition of his talents and a -mature mellowing of his energies. -Instead, however, he found himself -summoned to appear before the public -executioner with the family Bible and -prove its records false or be humanely -extinguished in the interest of modern -enlightenment. “This is too hard,” he -murmured, “but it would be infamous -as well as futile to question the authority -of the Good Book, and besides -I am too young to die. Though I appreciate -theoretically the demands -of civilization, as a practical proposition -the idea has its limitations.”</p> - -<p class="c016">It was with difficulty that he was -enabled to restrain a tear when he -thought of the young wife whom he -had taken unto himself just prior to -the enactment of the regulation for -the removal of the innocuously obsolete, -and whom he now felt that he had -procured under false pretences. His -pessimistic misgivings were accentuated -by a picture of her after he had -gone to his reward striving for sustenance -wherewith to nurture the innocent -infant cooing at her breast. But -every remedy was exhausted. The -President had declined to interpose -with as much as a temporary respite, -regretting his painful obligation but -tactfully reminding him of the majesty -of the law, the interests of society and -the demands of the strenuous life. -In due season he was led face to face -with the public chloroformer, who -humanely inquired of him if he had -aught to observe by way of valedictory. -Not anticipating such courteous consideration, -he was temporarily abashed, -but recovering his dormant speech, -feebly but feelingly observed: “Only -a single request. When I shall have -yielded up and taken flight to that -somber realm whence no traveler has -as yet returned, spare my modest -memory from the obituary paragrapher, -who would chronicle the lamented -departure from our midst of another -consistent church member and well -beloved citizen.” Saying which he -inhaled deeply and peacefully passed -into the big slumber while his fair -young wife adopted the proud profession -of a laundress and his innocent -babe was carefully safe-guarded in a -local institution for the homeless -progeny of those who had they been -permitted to ramble at large would -have been “only in the way.”</p> - -<h3 class="c022">WHY NOT BE SENSIBLE?</h3> - -<p class="c016">It is not to be presumed that in the -present age of popular enlightenment -people do not know better than to -trifle with germs. It is, therefore, -alarming to note that with light they -will continue to practically commit -suicide by a failure to observe the -most ordinary rules of hygiene. In -the mad pursuit of pelf and position -little heed is being given to the omnipresence -of bacilli, bacteria and other -mischievous, pernicious and fatal agencies. -Why will people supinely continue -to court death in street cars, -theaters, churches and at crowded -entertainments, where the most casual -movement sets into motion myriads -of germs that are inhaled, eaten and -absorbed by those present? And why -will they disregard common caution -by eating food in hotels, cafés, restaurants, -Pullman cars and at home, when -all food is known to be gorged with -murderous molecules of one sort or -another? And why perpetuate the -dangerous habit of washing when both<span class="pageno" id="Page_205">205</span> -soap and water are teeming with baleful -bacteria? There are still a few who -continue to take water into their system -in full realization that it contains -something more than a million germs -per drop. And is there no way of -impressing the public with the fatal -consequence of sleeping in beds and -sitting in chairs, and of riding and -walking through streets surrounded -by air which is composed largely of -corrosive sublimate—a deadly poison? -And as for kissing? Only Igorrote, -Hottentots and Russians can be forgiven -for not knowing better. So -deathly does modern research recognize -this primitive and all but obsolete -practice to be, that it is being seriously -considered of adoption as a pleasing -and more humane substitute for chloroform -as an antique exterminator. -Why not conform to the simple necessities -and observe the rational precaution -of doing nothing without first -being sterilized and aerated? And let -those determined to drink remember to -recognize as sanitary only those fluids -commonly known to be strongly germicidal. -It would seem that the present -generation will never reach a true -realization of its peril until it has already -become extinct.</p> - -<h3 class="c022">THE NORTHERN VIEWPOINT.</h3> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">His heart went out in feeling</div> - <div class="line">To the colored brother kneeling</div> - <div class="line in4">At the white man’s feet;</div> - <div class="line">His brother’s wrongs oppressed him</div> - <div class="line">And a poem he addressed him,</div> - <div class="line in4">Warm and neat.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">He suffered indignation,</div> - <div class="line">He swore by all creation</div> - <div class="line in4">’Twas a crime,</div> - <div class="line">To deny him social right—</div> - <div class="line">Wasn’t black as good as white</div> - <div class="line in4">Every time?</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">By the way, in this connection</div> - <div class="line">He’s now visiting this section,—</div> - <div class="line in4">He finds the matter clear—</div> - <div class="line">And without aid or suggestion</div> - <div class="line">He has come to view the question</div> - <div class="line in4">As one of atmosphere.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_205.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div class="figcenter id002"> -<span class="pageno" id="Page_206">206</span> -<img src="images/i_206.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> -<div> - <h2 class="c002">EDITORIAL</h2> -</div> - -</div> - -<h3 class="c026">FRENZIED POLITICS.</h3> - -<p class="c016">There are thousands of men in politics -who are the very salt of the earth. -Indeed, the majority are honest and -true. But it is rapidly becoming -fashionable for clans of bold, political -schemers to put their heads together -and capture the floating vote and thus -defeat the will of the people; and to -such these lines are dedicated.</p> - -<p class="c016">Modern machine politics is the most -subtle and exquisite art that ever -crushed a hope or shattered a dream. -It is the beautiful art of chloroforming -public confidence and stealing the reins -of power from the hands of the sleeping -sovereigns. It is the mysterious -art of political hoodoo, which works -shady miracles in every theater of -government, from the county courthouse -to the national capitol.</p> - -<p class="c016">The jugglers of this art slip into -conventions, caucuses and legislative -halls, and whisper a magic word, and -lo! in the twinkling of an eye, majorities -are changed to minorities, and -minorities to majorities; oft expressed -opinions and deep rooted convictions -upon vital principles and policies of -government are reversed in an hour, -and the enchanted floating solons, forgetting -old hickory shirt and copperas -breeches at home, forgetting the men -with cheeks of tan who walk in the -furrow, forgetting the sturdy toilers -at the anvil, the workbench and the -drill, losing sight of the confiding multitudes -who but yesterday twined the -laurel wreath of honor about their -brows,—fall down upon their faces -before the golden Combine, in that -sacred temple of free government -which is dedicated to righteousness -and the liberty of the people, crying -with a loud voice both night and day, -“Great is Diana of the Ephesians!” -That whispered word, so full of the -music and the dream, is “Pie.” O, -wondrous word of marvelous power! -O, sweet and juicy symbol of perfect -happiness. O, ravishing synonym of -golden eagles and the goddess of liberty! -In it are reflected the bewildering -glories of a thousand heavens of -pure delight; golden slippers and -laurel wreaths to burn; heaving seas of -“sour mash” whose amber surfs forever -break on fragrant shores of mint; -sweet journeys on Pullman palaces -of rosewood and mahogany to the land -of the orange and the palm. In it -are the stolen fires of the stars, flashing -in diamond shirt studs, and the -crimson glow of sunset skies imprisoned -in rubies set in gold on lily white -hands that will toil again never more. -In it are visions of mansions in spreading -groves where the wicked cease -from troubling and the weary are at -rest. Is it any wonder, then, that -opinions so suddenly change and -promises and pledges so swiftly dissolve -into a puff of wind and leave not -a rack behind? Is it any wonder -that Samson is shorn of his locks while -yet he slumbers, and only wakes to -find his window up, his strength and -piety gone and his breeches pockets -turned wrongside out? Is it any wonder -that when, at last, the Rip Van -Winkle of Public Confidence rises up -from his trance he finds only the -skeleton of Fidelity at his feet and the -gunstock of safety rotted away from -the rusted barrel of sovereignty by -his side? And is it any wonder that -he exclaims, in the language of old -Rip of the Adirondacks, “Am I so<span class="pageno" id="Page_207">207</span> -soon forgot?” Is it any wonder that -the bewildered Commonwealth, like -poor old Rip, so often looks around, -and failing to recognize the little pile -of bones near by, asks with tearful -eyes, “Vare iss mine leetle dog -Schneider?”</p> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">But what doth great Diana care</div> - <div class="line">For Samson when he’s lost his hair?</div> - <div class="line">The tears are vain that Rip doth shed:</div> - <div class="line">He slept too long, his dog is dead.</div> - <div class="line">So states are shorn, and nations weep,</div> - <div class="line">For crime committed while they sleep.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c000">Scheming lobbyists of mighty combines -juggle together and whisper into -the listening ears of shrewd politicians, -“You’ve got the power and we’ve got -the pie. We are willing to swap pie -for power. What <i>we</i> want is legislation -or no legislation, as our interests -may require. What <i>you</i> want is -<i>office</i>.” Then the politicians juggle -and honey fuggle the floating vote, and -there is a mighty shuffling of political -cards and soon they all join hands behind -closed doors and the soft whisper -passes round the ring, “We are one -and inseparable for power and for pie; -we are the flowers that bloom in the -spring, tra, la! Let the word be -mum.” Then follows the secret banquet -of bargain and intrigue under the -very dome of liberty. It is quite exclusive, -even more so than a banquet -of the four hundred in the great metropolis. -Old Copperas Breeches is -not invited nor Brother Hickory Shirt, -nor Dr. Honesty, nor ’Squire Patriotism, -nor any of the old folks at home. -There is no room around the festive -board for Professor Pedagogue, of -Purity High School, nor Deacon Righteousness, -of Churchville. The public -welfare is lost in the shuffle. After a -short blessing is whispered by the Rev. -Judasio Iscarriotis, the sumptuous -feast begins, the menu consisting alone -of pie: senatorial pie, sweetened with -ring syrup; gubernatorial mince pie, -flavored with moonshine; speakership -pie, highly seasoned with the sunshine -of spicy promises of favors to come; -clerkship pie, dripping with the honey -of fat and succulent salaries; and on -down, to a little half moon dried apple -pie of a free pass to oblivion.</p> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">They clink their merry glasses,</div> - <div class="line in2">Now hear them softly sing—</div> - <div class="line">“The people are all asses,</div> - <div class="line in2">Diana’s in the swing!”</div> - <div class="line">And after the feast is over,</div> - <div class="line in2">After the pie is gone,</div> - <div class="line">The combines are in clover,</div> - <div class="line in2">As we go marching on.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Then the band begins to play, and -the elephant moves around, bearing on -his spacious back the anointed high -priests of Pie and Power, followed by -a great procession of worshipers, and -heralded by a flourish of trumpets in -the hands of the jugglers, who alternately -blow and shout, crying out, as -with one voice, “Great is Diana of the -Ephesians, who hath the world by the -tail and a down-hill pull! Clear the -way for the most high priest of power! -Clear the way for the priestly priest of -Pie! Hail, all hail!!”</p> - -<p class="c016">Thus the dismal tale of history -runs; hopes of free government are -crushed; dreams of liberty are shattered; -blind Samson nurses his wrath -until his shorn locks grow out again; -and then, with giant strength and -insane rage, he lays hold of the pillars -of the temple,</p> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">And with a crash republics fall,</div> - <div class="line">Down go liberty, combines and all.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c000">This is the shady side of politics. But -the burnished crest of the darkest -cloud reflects in golden arcs the splendors -of the sun, and the angels of hope -hang a rainbow on its bosom. All -power is inherent in the people, and -there are patriotism and courage enough -in their bosoms to weather the storms -that rise dark o’er the way, if they do -not get lost in the Adirondacks of -Prosperity and drink from the jug of -indifference and sleep too long on -their rights.</p> - -<p class="c016">Combined capital is digging its own -grave when it becomes the Diana of -modern machine politics. And combined -Labor is driving the nails in its -own coffin when the spirit of anarchy -directs its blows for the redress of its -grievances. Until recently the South -has maintained its integrity and its -immunity from the hoodoo art of machine -politics; but the methods of destruction<span class="pageno" id="Page_208">208</span> -have found their way into -Southern capitols, and, unless Samson -wakes, he will soon find himself utterly -powerless to use his favorite jaw-bone, -or any other kind of a weapon, on the -Philistine combines who are plotting -against him in the temple.</p> - -<p class="c016">God speed the day when Capital and -Labor shall combine under the banner -of arbitration and of peace, and when -the battle cry of the Republic shall -be, “Equal and exact justice to all, -with special favors to one.”</p> - -<h3 class="c022">A TALE OF A LECTURE TOUR.</h3> - -<p class="c016">I entered the car, threw my grip -between two seats and sat down by a -drummer. He looked at my valise -and then at me and dryly asked, “Are -you a traveling man?” “Yes,” was -my reply. “What is your line?” -asked he. “<i>Sweetened wind</i>,” quoth -I. A smile lighted his face as he -quickly asked, “Preacher or lecturer?” -And then there was a laugh and a lull.</p> - -<p class="c016">After an all day’s travel which wore -me into a frazzle, I reached my destination -at 8.30 <span class="sc">p.m.</span> It was a cold, -drizzling evening. The skies were -leaking spray, and in the language of -Mrs. Partington, the street was a perfect -“lullaby” of soft and sticky mud. -The little freckle-faced dreamer who -had bought me for a hundred and fifty -caught me by the arm with one hand -as I stepped off the cars and seized my -grip with the other and literally pushed -me head foremost into a Jim Crow -hack drawn by one old spavined horse,</p> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">With one eye out and t’other blind,</div> - <div class="line">He racked before and paced behind,</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c000">until we reached the hall where I was -to lecture. I found a little cold and -shivering crowd seated there, waiting -to be warmed by my eloquence, and -without a chance to make my toilet -and don my little “swallow tail,” I -was ushered on the stage and introduced -as the greatest orator, philosopher, -poet, musician, statesman, scientist, -actor and artist that ever came -down the pike, whereupon I began to -shake my jaw and pour out my metaphors; -but somehow or other my eagle -wouldn’t soar that night. He flopped -his cold and flabby wings and rose and -fell for an hour and a quarter. The -audience departed like mourners from -a funeral; but one good old lady lingered -in the hall till I came off the -stage and in her pity she sidled up to -me and whispered, “I liked your little -talk right well.” I found the freckled-face -dreamer waiting at the door, and, -cold as it was, the sweat was rolling -down his cheeks. His face was the -picture of despair when he handed me -a hundred dollar bill and ten fives. I -knew that his castle in the air had -fallen. “How did you come out?” I -asked. “Well, Governor,” he said, -with a tremulous voice, “I’m out just -eighteen dollars.” I took the roll he -had given me out of my pocket and -skinned off four bills in the light of -the lamp dimly burning and said, -“There are twenty dollars, my boy, and -my blessing upon you.” He almost -shouted and pressed my hand continuously -as we walked through the -mud to the little hotel on the starvation -plan. Then there were a brief -sleep and an easy conscience. I -crossed the Father of Waters in triumph -next morning and tarried in -Memphis till the next train out. I -went to the bank to buy New York -exchange, took out my roll and lo! -I had given old freckle-face the one -hundred dollar bill and three fives. -Then again there was a laugh and a -lull—he laughed and I lulled. I -pocketed my laugh and my loss and -climbed into the pouch of a Southern -Kangaroo on wheels and with a single -hop I cleared the state of Mississippi -and lit in Alabama. I climbed out -and got into the ’bus in a beautiful -little town among the blushing hills. -Before I had washed the dust of -travel from my brow, a spider-legged -dude, with ambrosial locks curled and -parted in the middle, came strutting -like a clean-shaven and musk-scented -dream into the dingy and time-honored -little room where my valise and I -were safely deposited, and with Chesterfieldian -bow and a fluted voice announced -that he had been designated -by the ladies to introduce me that -night to the audience. He shook his -curls and said, “Governor, I have<span class="pageno" id="Page_209">209</span> -never delivered a speech in my life, -but I have been at work on this one -for about two weeks; and pardon me -for saying that I think she’s a daisy.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Well, my friend,” I said, “I am fond -of daisies.” With another shake of -his locks he said, “The society people -are all coming out to-night to hear me -introduce you.” I shook my scanty -locks and said, “I am glad there is -something bringing them out.”</p> - -<p class="c016">The clock struck 8. An elegant carriage -stopped at the hotel door where -I was waiting, and the sweet-scented -dream in full evening dress, emerged, -and gently took me by the arm and -ushered me into it. We went whirling -to the stage entrance of the theater, -but as we walked up the stairs I observed -that he tottered like a man ascending -the gallows and his lips were -colorless and quivering. We took -our seats side by side behind the curtain. -I motioned to the curtain man -that all was ready, and with a whiz -and a bang the curtain went up, and, -sure enough, there in front of us, in -the brilliantly lighted auditorium, was -a breathing bouquet of youth and -beauty and old age which greeted us -with a storm of applause—the society -folks had indeed come out to hear him -introduce me. I nudged my friend -and said, “Shoot.” He never budged. -I nudged him again and said, “Go -ahead!” He never budged. I looked -around and his face was as white as a -sheet and great drops of perspiration -like beads of pearl were standing on -his pallid brow. I said again, “Go -ahead!” and in his agony he mumbled -with muffled voice, “Governor, she’s -gone.” There was a lull and a laugh, -and in about two seconds he was gone. -Before I had delivered half my sweetened -goods I observed a number of -yawns and stolen glances at watches -and increasing signs that my crowd -wanted to go. There is no anguish -like that which a lecturer feels when -his listless audience turns to frost and -nips all his flowers of speech. The -saddest spectacle in all the tide of -time is a frost-bitten orator. He -gathers up his little withered tropes -and similes and vanishes, and all that -saves him from suicide is the dream -that he will blossom again in a more -congenial garden. I collected my tribute -money in the Alabama town and -mounted a grasshopper train and went -hopping and stridulating from rail to rail -until I found a patch of clover in a rich -and aristocratic Georgia town where I -lounged and exchanged anecdotes with -traveling men and with the natives -until the lights were turned on and I -stood all robed in my “swallow tail,” -in the midst of as delightful an audience -as ever listened to a sap-sucker -speech or laughed at the unwinding of -my little ball of yarns. A tall and -handsome Georgia lawyer rose to introduce -me and thus he spake:</p> - -<p class="c016">“Ladies and Gentlemen: I have -traveled a great deal in my life and on -one of my journeys I took in the -mountains of East Tennessee. I -paused in that peculiar country to -study the customs of that peculiar -people. They make maple sugar in -East Tennessee. They have great -sugar orchards there, and one of the -customs of the people is to tap the -sugar trees in the spring when the sap -begins to rise and they give the children -in the family a tin cup and turn them -out into the sugar orchard and never -see them any more for six weeks. I -have the pleasure to introduce to you -to-night a sap-sucker from East Tennessee!”</p> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">There was a lull and a laugh,</div> - <div class="line in2">And the sap began to run,</div> - <div class="line">And they kindly took a quaff</div> - <div class="line in2">From my sugar-trough of fun.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">I settled with the secretary of the -treasury and mounted a March hare -train and sped away through many a -cotton patch, from town to town, out -of Georgia into the Old North State, -and, flanking Charlotte, squatted at -the State University at Chapel Hill, -that classic spot of earth so rich with -memories of the glorious past and still -teeming with joyous student life, like -those who have gone before, dreaming -of the glorious future. There I met -Dr. Battle, that grand old man who -has fought a thousand battles for enlightenment -and human happiness. -There I met Alphonso Smith, one of -the South’s foremost young men in the<span class="pageno" id="Page_210">210</span> -field of educational endeavor and -whose soul is in tune with Southern -progress and Southern development.</p> - -<p class="c016">There, too, I met Eben Alexander, -a brilliant star from the sky of Tennessee, -shedding the soft light of Grecian -literature upon the youthful brain of -Carolina. I met a score of other stars -in the faculty of this great University. -I stood on the platform of its splendid -auditorium and tossed bouquets at as -refined and cultured an audience as -ever sipped sap from a sugar tree. -And when I packed my grip and -started Southward I could not repress -the sweet old song:</p> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">“Hurrah! hurrah! for the Old North State forever!</div> - <div class="line">Hurrah! hurrah! for the good Old North State!”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Finally, I landed in Charleston, -South Carolina, where I played Beauregard, -but instead of firing bomb -shells at Ft. Sumter, I fired soap bubbles -at the heads and hearts of a magnificent -audience of representative -Charlestonians; and whether I pleased -them or not, they were so generous and -hospitable as to flatter me with occasional -bombs of laughter and a few -volleys of applause.</p> - -<p class="c016">I swung back through Alabama to -my home in Nashville, on hearing the -news that the political sap was rising; -but, alas! only to find that the Tennessee -sugar tree was already tapped, -you see, and that the senatorial sugar-trough -was full of sap-suckers holding -a snap caucus, and there was a lull -and a laugh—I lulled and they laughed. -When I awoke from my lull I kissed -my wife and children good-bye, and -broke for Texas, the queenly young -sister of Tennessee, who took me in -her arms, and brushing away my political -tears, pressed me to her loving -heart.</p> - -<p class="c016">There is no state in the Union that -gives a Tennesseean a warmer welcome -than Texas, because her lap is full of -Tennesseeans, and, moreover, she is -naturally hospitable and kind. There -is a place on her fat knee for every -troubled soul, a kiss of sunshine on -her lips and a lump of sugar in -her hand for every weeping wanderer.</p> - -<p class="c016">O, glorious empire state of the sun-kissed -South, with thy hundred and -seventy-five thousand square miles of -as rich a country as was ever tickled -by the plow or the pick, and as ever -laughed a harvest of cotton and grain -for the comfort and happiness of man! -With thy cattle on a thousand hills, -thy countless flocks, thy gushing wells -of oil, thy fields of rice and sugar cane -stretching far away like the sweet -fields of Eden on the other side of -Jordan! With thy fatness thou canst -feed and warm the world! I wonder -why the poor huddle in the smoke and -filth of crowded cities when Texas -smiles and beckons them to her landscapes -of beauty, where the prairie -flowers bloom and the sunshine plays -with the zephyrs from the Gulf and -sometimes scuffles with a cyclone. I -wonder why toiling millions dwell -amid blackened walls only to be slaves -to heartless masters, when untouched -fields invite the happy home and -virgin soil still waits for the plowman -and his merry song. I wonder why -helpless children are doomed to die -by thousands in polluted hovels and -crowded alleys, when the green meadows -of Texas bid them come and chase -the butterflies among the bluebells -and the daisies, and the blossoming -hills call them hither to romp and play -where the happy birds sing and the -cows come home in the evening fragrant -with the breath of alfalfa and -the sweet wild grasses of the plains. -Texas is a Paradise for the poor, it is -a third heaven for the rich.</p> - -<p class="c016">But I am about to forget that I was -talking about my lecture tour. Let -me see!—O, yes!—“All aboard for -Nashville!” the conductor cries. Well, -the rest of my story I will tell around -the happy hearthstone of home.</p> - -<h3 class="c022">FOOLISH DREAMERS.</h3> - -<p class="c016">It is a marvelous truth that this -golden era of the world’s history has -inspired no great poets that rank with -Byron and Burns and Tom Moore and -a long list of other immortals who have -enriched literature with their songs;<span class="pageno" id="Page_211">211</span> -and it has developed but few prose -writers worthy to wear the mantles of -Blackstone and Kent in law, of Gibbon -and Macaulay in history, and Scott -and Bulwer in romance and fiction.</p> - -<p class="c016">It is well we call it the golden era, -for it is an era of commercialism, when -men are trampling literature and art -and music under their feet in the mad -rush for gold and the gilded glory that -it buys. To be a millionaire is greater -in the estimation of modern worshipers -of mammon than to be a Goldsmith; -and a multimillionaire is greater in -their gold-jaundiced eyes than a William -Shakespeare. The highest aspiration -of these nervous and strenuous -generations is the acquirement and -hoarding of gold. Religion is tinged -with it. Politics is its ally—and alloy -in the ratio of sixteen of gold to one -of Patriotism. And most of the business -and social relations of this enlightened -age are purely golden and -measured only by the circumference -of a dollar. The English poet sounded -the keynote of true philosophy when -he sang:</p> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">“Ill fares the land to hastening ills a prey</div> - <div class="line">Where wealth accumulates and men decay.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">The true wealth of a nation rests -not so much on bricks of gold as upon -golden thought—the riches of brain and -heart—the treasures of truth and the -pure and beautiful sentiments of life. -In the wild scramble for sordid gain -and the golden reins of power in these -wing-footed days of avarice and materialism, -the angels of happiness no -longer beckon from the landscape and -the stream nor call from the sweet -solitudes of the forest; but they stand -tip-toe on the burnished domes and -glittering towers of the city and the -town, with crowns of gold in their -hands. And the brain and brawn of -the land gather there from the hills -and hollows to climb after them on a -thousand ladders of dreams. But the -environments of domes and towers, -while they stimulate the brain to -grasp great financial problems and to -weave the web of glory around the -thrones of money kings, contract the -nobler and better ideals and impulses -of the heart to the gilded forms of -artificial pleasure.</p> - -<p class="c016">Did you ever watch a bevy of city -swells and society belles swinging and -whirling under flaming chandeliers -until the coat-tails of the swells popped -like whip crackers and the skirts of -the belles flapped like the sails of a -schooner in a high wind? That was -a piping gale of pleasure in high life -in the town. Did you ever attend -a great reception in the heart of the -metropolis? It was a gorgeous scene -of icicles and spectacles, of broadcloth, -and jewels arrayed in white slippers -and costly gowns of richest colors; -and the icicles and spectacles bowed -to the jewels, and the jewels bowed to -the icicles and spectacles and they held -sweet converse on the subject of their -bicycles and tricycles and various and -sundry articles and drank champagne -and sherry and all got very merry and -wound up with oysters and dill pickles. -And then the tipsy icicles and spectacles -got in their elegant vehicles and -went home with the jewels in the -morning. That was the cream of -urban civilization. Did you ever gaze -on a gaudy throng of bald-headed -Apollos and painted Minervas walling -their eyes in speechless rapture before -the garish lights of the grand opera? -How the fans and ribbons fluttered -and the side-whiskers swayed and -spluttered amid the inscrutable harmonies -of Wagner! That was the -tuneless pandemonium of urban music. -Did you ever watch the bulls and -bears of finance turn the stock exchange -into a howling wilderness of -confusion in the struggle to raise or -lower prices? That was the third -heaven of artificial pleasure and excitement -in the city.</p> - -<p class="c016">But what is a thrill of victory in the -gambling hell of frenzied finance compared -with the joy a fisherman feels -down on the farm when a game trout -strikes his baited hook in the darkening -eddy of a crystal stream and the -good reel sings as he gives him line and -the fishing rod bends and the waters -splash? What is the gilded club -room where the wizards of finance -meet to sip and smoke and shuffle the -cards of fortune compared with a fisherman’s<span class="pageno" id="Page_212">212</span> -tent and a fisherman’s luck on -the bank of a moonlit river where -hearts are trumps and souls overflow -with song and story?</p> - -<p class="c016">Did you ever hear the tale of Mark -Antony, the funeral orator of Rome -and the Romeo of the Nile? He went -angling in Egypt one day on the royal -barge with the beautiful Cleopatra and -he fished and fished and fished, unrewarded -by a nibble, until the hours -grew dull and heavy. But the cunning -queen conceived a plan to change -her lover’s luck and unfolded the -scheme to a slave; and the slave secretly -dived from the larboard side of -the boat and hung a dried herring on -the General’s hook and then gave his -line a vigorous pull. “By Jupiter!” -shouted Mark Antony, “I have hooked -a monstrous fish.” “Take care, my -lord, and give him line lest he drag -thee into the sea,” cried the dark-eyed -queen, as she chuckled behind her fan.</p> - -<p class="c016">“By the gods! that fish shall flounder -on thy deck, or I shall flounder beneath -the waves!” cried the impetuous -Roman. He squared himself -and gave a mighty jerk, but fell -sprawling on his back at the feet of the -laughing queen, and when he looked -up and saw nothing but a little dried -herring dangling among the ropes -above him, he blandly smiled and -dryly said: “He was a monstrous fish -while biting, but between his bite and -my jerk, he has wonderfully shriveled. -But he’s the oldest looking fish and has -the loudest smell of any that ever -perfumed the royal barge.”</p> - -<p class="c016">And so many an ambitious Antony -sits in the stock exchange of the great -city and drops his hook in the sea of -speculation, and he fishes and fishes -with his little wad of hard earned -cash, until some shrewd manipulator, -just to change his luck, takes the little -wad off and gives the line a heavy pull, -and when our guileless Antony thinks -he has hooked a million, he jerks and -falls at the feet of fickle fortune, and -finds dangling in the air above him -only the dried herring of a shrivelled -hope, and there is nothing left but -the aged look of an empty purse and -the smell of a dream that is vanished!</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_212.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div class="figcenter id002"> -<span class="pageno" id="Page_213">213</span> -<img src="images/i_213.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> -<div> - <h2 class="c002">LEISURE HOURS</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>For Conference Between the Magazine and its Readers.</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<p class="c016">When The Taylor Publishing Company -made its announcement of the -forthcoming appearance of <span class="sc">Bob Taylor’s -Magazine</span>, its statements were -received with interest by all, with enthusiastic -approval by many and with -predictions of disaster by sundry Jeremiahs -and Thomases. For the last -named class the fact that a Southern -magazine had not succeeded, though -many had been projected, was sufficient -reason for the conclusion that -none could succeed, and possible success -versus probable failure was discussed -throughout the length and -breadth of the land.</p> - -<p class="c016">Meanwhile, Governor Robert L. -Taylor and his co-laborers in the enterprise, -imbued with a belief in the -feasibility of the venture, with the -idea of the vital necessity to the people -of the South of a literary periodical -which might adequately and fittingly -represent the literary life and customs -and romance and ideals of the South, -and with an indomitable intention of -firmly establishing such a useful vehicle -of thought and expression, proceeded -with their organization. Literature -in regard to <span class="sc">Bob Taylor’s -Magazine</span> was prepared, a campaign -of publicity was inaugurated, articles -and stories were secured for the first -number, paper was bought, and an -issue of 10,000 copies was determined -upon, as amply sufficient for the first -number.</p> - -<p class="c016">But herein the projectors of the -enterprise underestimated the demands -of their friends. No sooner was the -prospectus issued which indicated the -character of the magazine and gave a -partial list of the contents of the first -number, than the mails were congested -with correspondence; agents were appointed -by the hundred; subscriptions -poured in; and it was decided to print -15,000 copies instead of 10,000 copies.</p> - -<p class="c016">The size of the magazine, too, grew -rapidly in the hands of the staff, until, -instead of the 116 pages originally -planned, it was found desirable to give -164 pages. This was rendered necessary, -in part, by the large amount -of advertising secured; and this is one -of the best indexes of the faith of the -people in the success of <span class="sc">Bob Taylor’s -Magazine</span>. Hard-headed men of business -do not give up their money for -mere sentiment or out of compliment -to even so eminent and widely loved a -man as Governor Taylor. No. They -look upon <span class="sc">Bob Taylor’s Magazine</span> -as a valuable advertising medium—and -they are right.</p> - -<p class="c016">At last, on the 21st of March, the -eagerly awaited magazine appeared, -and far surpassed the most sanguine -expectations of its readers. In the -intrinsic merit of its articles, stories -and departments, in its dainty and appropriate -cover, in its numerous and -handsome illustrations, in its excellent -typography and press-work, and equally -in its well displayed and interesting -advertisements it fully satisfied the -most critical. The realization of a -literary magazine worthy of the South -was apparent.</p> - -<p class="c016">And yet the Jeremiahs, silenced as -to the initial number, muttered <i>sotto -voce</i>: “Well, you can’t do it again.” -Nevertheless, the present number bears -internal evidence that we have “done -it again.” And we shall “do it” -every time. This we promise. We -shall no longer pay heed to that (fortunately -small) class which experiences -a melancholy pleasure in making direful -predictions.</p> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_214">214</span></div> - -<p class="c016">The avidity with which the first -number of <span class="sc">Bob Taylor’s Magazine</span> -was greeted was astounding even to -the editor-in-chief and his staff, notwithstanding -the thousands of encouraging -letters, the enormous influx -of subscriptions, even before a type -had been set, and the fact that the -interest was not confined to the South -but was manifested with especial -earnestness by the people of the North. -Letters of congratulation by the bushel, -and complimentary editorials, reviews -and press notices have told the tale -from Androscoggin to San Jose. -Space, of course, precludes the reproduction -of them here, even if it were -desirable, but the following selection -from a letter of the senior member of -one of the largest advertising agencies -in the United States is so significant -that it is felt that its insertion will be -pardoned:</p> - -<p class="c016">“I thought it was hardly possible -there could be a place for another -magazine, and consequently took little -interest in your first announcements. -When your first number came to hand, -however, I was so attracted by the -dainty cover showing the ‘fiddle’ with -which the name of Bob Taylor is so -intimately associated in the minds of -those who know anything of the -South, and especially of Tennessee, -that I carried it home last night, and -did not lay it aside until every word -in it by Bob Taylor had been read and -several of the articles re-read.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Heartiest congratulations on the -merit of the first number, the character -of which, if maintained in succeeding -numbers, will surely make a place for -this new apostle of sunshine.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Only give us more of Bob Taylor, -if possible. Why not let him have a -page between each other article each -number may contain. Why restrict -him to a department or departments? -John Brisben Walker wrote the entire -September, 1904, <i>Cosmopolitan</i> unaided. -It is believed Bob Taylor could write -an entire number without any assistance -if he would make up his mind to -do so, and it would be certain to prove -a hummer.”</p> - -<p class="c016">Fifteen thousand copies is a large -number for the first issue of any magazine; -yet they were exhausted within -one week after the magazine came -from the press, and thousands of copies -have since been ordered by agents and -dealers, while an ever increasing army -of new subscribers demand, like so -many Oliver Twists, with vehemence -and iteration—MORE, MORE. <i>And -yet every copy is sold!</i></p> - -<p class="c016">It is a situation that pleases while it -embarrasses, and it gives the valuable -pointer that we must provide larger -issues, which we shall do, that no one -may miss a single number.</p> - -<p class="c016">Considering these facts, so briefly -outlined, we would not be human were -we not elated and happy and thankful. -And yet we have not, we trust, been -spoiled by lavish praise, but rather -spurred on to greater efforts to measure -up to our opportunities, to the expectations -of the Southern people, and -to our mission to exploit the virtues, -resources and capabilities of this section, -while bringing every month more -sunshine and happiness into the heart -of every reader of <span class="sc">Bob Taylor’s -Magazine</span>.</p> - -<p class="c012">For the information of new subscribers -we repeat that we invite, for -insertion in this department, communications -on all subjects of unusual -interest and importance, such as</p> - -<p class="c016">Prose and poetry of sentiment, fact -and fancy.</p> - -<p class="c016">Forgotten or unpublished bits of -history and tradition.</p> - -<p class="c016">Anecdotes of famous men and -women, and of quaint and curious -occurrences.</p> - -<p class="c016">The best short stories and tales you -have heard or read, if unusual or -unfamiliar.</p> - -<p class="c016">Suggestions for the special benefit -of <span class="sc">Bob Taylor’s Magazine</span>—how it -may be improved, what it should contain, -what it should admit.</p> - -<h3 class="c022">Industrial Energy and Enterprise of the Old South.</h3> - -<p class="c016">There is little danger -that the glories and -beauties of the Old -South, as reflected in -its social life and ideals, will be forgotten -in the industrial progress and -prosperity of the New, for these<span class="pageno" id="Page_215">215</span> -things have been made immortal by -the sure touch of tradition and literature, -but there is another phase of the -old regime well worth our pride and -attention, which seems to have well -nigh faded out of popular impression -and consideration. We refer to the -industrial and commercial activity -achieved by the South before the war, -of which the general idea takes so -small and disparaging account. It is -tacitly assumed and loosely declared -that previous to 1860 the South lived -in ease and sloth upon slave-labor and -the cotton crop, paying no heed to -manufactures or industrial development, -and that before the wonderful -business progress of the last decade -commercial enterprise and ability were -unknown qualities in this section. -There were heroes before Agamemnon, -however, and the truth is that long -before the New South existed in phrase -or fact, the Old South was holding its -own in wealth-producing industries -with other sections of the country.</p> - -<p class="c016">In a pamphlet, published some years -ago, Mr. Richard H. Edmonds, of -Baltimore, first drew attention to -these facts, and in so doing performed -a unique and important service to -historic truth, no less than to sectional -pride. “Facts about the South” is -the title of Mr. Edmond’s brochure and -he prefaces his summary of present -prosperity and prophecy of future development -by a somewhat novel presentation -of Southern industrial conditions -previous to 1860. He boldly -challenges the assumption that the -South during that period was not fully -abreast of the times in all business interests -and quotes indubitable statistics -and historic records to prove -his case. In the decade between 1850 -and 1860 the growth in Southern railroad -and manufacturing interests was -especially marked, the government -reports showing a greater percentage -of gain in the South than in New England -and the Middle States, or, indeed, -the whole country at large. Moreover, -the popular idea crediting the Old -South with producing only cotton, -rice and sugar, is clearly disproved by -Mr. Edmonds, who gives the figures of -Southern crop production for 1860, -showing a condition of agricultural -diversity and prosperity unsurpassed -in any part of the country.</p> - -<p class="c016">This vigorous protest against a prevailing -delusion should be read in its -entirety by every Southerner who, -as he reads of the thrift and energy -of the Old South, will be inspired with -a firmer faith in the growth and strength -of the New, recognizing in the industrial -development of to-day, as Mr. -Edmonds expresses it, “not a novel -creation” in this section, but “the -result of evolution.”</p> - -<p class="c011"><span class="sc">Mr. Editor:</span></p> - -<p class="c016">After all the flowery speeches and -kind words that have been showered -upon <span class="sc">Bob Taylor’s Magazine</span>, all of -which I heartily endorse, I am afraid -you will not appreciate what I am -going to say, but I’ll say it, nevertheless; -it will be as good as a corrective; -too much sweets are always cloying.</p> - -<p class="c016">I have read the magazine through -from cover to cover, even to the advertisements, -and found everything -good, better, best, yet I was disappointed -and will tell you why. There -was no smallest fraction thereof devoted -to women. Why is this thus? -It cannot be that you do not think -women of enough importance as to be -worthy some part of it especially fitted -for her eye alone. I know our editor-in-chief -doesn’t feel that way, at least he -does not talk that way, as every woman -knows who ever talked to him for five -minutes by the clock. I don’t mean a -page devoted to Housewives, Motherhood, -Cooking Recipes, or Fancy -Work, altogether. These are all good, -every one of them, and we are all more -or less interested in them, but a page, -pure and simple, devoted to things -that women are specially interested -in. Will you rise and explain, and -satisfy several women?</p> - -<p class="c014">E. A. C.</p> - -<p class="c003">The above communication is self-explanatory -and is published for what -it is worth. Possibly others of our -friends may have something to say -along this line. At any rate, whatever -is worthy of space, pertaining to -women, can, at least for a time, find -expression in this department.</p> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_216">216</span></div> - -<h3 class="c022">“LOCAL COLORING.”</h3> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>(Dedicated to Our Descriptive Writers.)</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">The tale told thrillingly of lemon skies,</div> - <div class="line">Of salmon hills beneath a blue sunrise;</div> - <div class="line">It feelingly described a cerise field</div> - <div class="line">Where purple rabbits ate pink onions, peeled.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">The color card passed to another pen,</div> - <div class="line">And lightning changes awed our common ken;</div> - <div class="line">For lo, we’re told those hills are palest mauve,—</div> - <div class="line">Like molten gold the fiery sun above.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">The lemon sky has veered to cherry red,—</div> - <div class="line">Maroon, the field where purple rabbits fed;</div> - <div class="line">Has Nature cursed us with a spotted land?</div> - <div class="line">Nay, “highly colored” tales are in demand.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line in32"><span class="sc">Hester Grey.</span></div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<h3 class="c022">IN TENNESSEE.</h3> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">Where the Mississippi washes</div> - <div class="line in2">Round the shores of Tennessee,</div> - <div class="line">There’s a large and stately forest,</div> - <div class="line in2">And it’s very dear to me.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">There I roamed in days of boyhood</div> - <div class="line in2">With companions free from care,</div> - <div class="line">As the tree tops sway ed above us</div> - <div class="line in2">With the west wind playing there.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">There we hunted ducks and turkeys;</div> - <div class="line in2">Or as leaves came drifting down,</div> - <div class="line">Sat and watched the graceful squirrel—</div> - <div class="line in2">Heard the distant deep-mouthed hound.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">I can see the old tent standing,</div> - <div class="line in2">Scent the fragrant coffee pot,</div> - <div class="line">And can see the fish a-frying</div> - <div class="line in2">On the coals so red and hot.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">We could hear the steamboat whistle,</div> - <div class="line in2">Coming to us from afar;</div> - <div class="line">And the wild geese loudly calling</div> - <div class="line in2">Far out on the sandy bar.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">As the darkness gathered round us,</div> - <div class="line in2">The tree tops bare and high</div> - <div class="line">Seemed to touch with inky fingers</div> - <div class="line in2">The azure autumn sky.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">And the shadows in beneath them,</div> - <div class="line in2">Where the firelight did not go,</div> - <div class="line">Made a background for dream pictures</div> - <div class="line in2">In those days of long ago.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">Ah, those faces in the firelight</div> - <div class="line in2">Glowed with ruddy health and joy,</div> - <div class="line">As I pictured golden futures</div> - <div class="line in2">Round the camp fire as a boy.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">I have walked the crowded city,</div> - <div class="line in2">With restless, weary feet—</div> - <div class="line">In search of praise and pleasure—</div> - <div class="line in2">But neither seemed complete.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">For the wine the city offers</div> - <div class="line in2">Must be drunk in little sips,</div> - <div class="line">Or like the Dead Sea apples</div> - <div class="line in2">’Twill be ashes on the lips.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">So I’m going back a-camping,</div> - <div class="line in2">’Neath the sunset’s mellow glow,</div> - <div class="line">There to dream the dreams of boyhood</div> - <div class="line in2">As in days of long ago.</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line in32"><span class="sc">G. W. Browder.</span></div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line"><i>Clinton, Ky.</i></div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<h3 class="c022">A People Peculiar.</h3> - -<p class="c016">Twenty years or more ago, -riding through the flat, -palmetto-fringed pine woods of east -Florida, before Standard Oil Flagler -built his coast railroad to Miami, -sundry lean, swarthy, active people of -both sexes, were frequently to be met -with, more especially in and about St. -Augustine, and to the southward -towards New Smyrna. They are -doubtless to be found there yet, though -the great influx of miscellaneous -strangers renders their racial traits -less noticeable than formerly.</p> - -<p class="c016">Ask one of the large-framed Swedes, -Germans, or other scions of a more -pronounced North-of-Europe type, -who and what these Latin looking -peasantry are, the chance is you will -be answered, or at least would have -been at the time I alluded to above:</p> - -<p class="c016">“When folks want to be civil they -call them Minorcans; when they don’t -they are mighty apt to say something -about Doc. Turnbull’s niggers. So, -there you are—take your choice.”</p> - -<p class="c016">As a matter of fact, they are a -really worthy and industrious element -of our composite population, not unlike -the descendants of Longfellow’s -Acadians, the “Cajuns” of southern -Louisiana. Though of a hybrid sort -of Spanish ancestry, from the Balearic -Isles in the Mediterranean Sea, they -have Americanized themselves through -several generations of quiet usefulness -in an humble, unobtrusive way.</p> - -<p class="c016">What is their history? How came -they here?</p> - -<p class="c016">That takes us back to the year 1767. -The Floridas had only recently been<span class="pageno" id="Page_217">217</span> -ceded by Spain to England, when some -fifteen hundred colonists, mostly from -Minorca, one of the Balearic group, -were landed at Musquito Inlet, one -hundred miles south of St. Augustine.</p> - -<p class="c016">Many think that the only people -held as slaves in the South prior to -the Civil War, were negroes, or possibly -in very early colonial times, a few -spiritless tribes of Indians. Yet these -colonists (ancestors of the present -Minorcans now strung along the lagoons -and bayous of the east coast, -intermittently for many leagues) were -made, willy-nilly, for nine long, weary -years, to toil amid the swamps and -hammocks of what is now Volusia -County, as the virtual slaves of a -British Trading Company of that era, -headed by Sir Wm. Duncan and a -Dr. Andrew Turnbull, shrewd Scotchmen -of wealth and social position, who -operated their scheme from London; -Sir William being the resident manager -there, and a financial magnate -on the Stock Exchange himself.</p> - -<p class="c016">Turnbull, the immediate head of -the colony in Florida, was hard-hearted, -energetic, indomitable and persevering—one -of that unconscionable, -never-give-up sort of task masters, who -worked the helpless peasants mercilessly -in the malarious swamps embraced -within the area of the immense -land grant held by the Company’s -charter.</p> - -<p class="c016">Tradition avers that he founded the -original town of New Smyrna, dug -drainage canals, built stone warehouses, -cleared several thousand acres -of dense forest, and began to raise indigo -on a large scale.</p> - -<p class="c016">The contracts of the colonists, under -which they were to receive allotments -of land, proper wages and maintenance, -were ruthlessly and systematically -violated. The region was then -remote and inaccessible, and the poor, -ignorant peasantry, helpless to a degree -hard to realize, in our own day, -outside of, perhaps, Siberia, or Tibet, -in far-off Asia.</p> - -<p class="c016">So isolated was that section from -all connection with the outside world -that this sort of thing went on for -years without its being known, even -at St. Augustine. The lands were not -divided, nor the wages paid. Instead -the Minorcans were compelled to work -like the Israelites in Egypt, under -harsh overseers, amid all the discomforts -of a semi-tropic wilderness, environed -by savage tribes to the west -and south, trailed by bloodhounds to -prevent escape, punished like convicts, -and wretchedly housed and fed. -Guarded also by armed men, their condition -was, indeed, most forlorn and -miserable.</p> - -<p class="c016">It was said that our own Revolution -against Great Britain had been going -on for a year or more, before these -long suffering Minorcans heard that -such a thing had been even considered -by the more northerly colonies. Then, -however, the worm turned. There -was a great uprising, for such a life, -now tinged with a ray of hope, was -unendurable.</p> - -<p class="c016">Harsh measures were resorted to by -Turnbull, who also evoked the aid of -the civil law, claiming that the Minorcans -had violated their contracts as a -sort of “Redemptioners,” bound to -serve for a stipulated period, etc. -Some of the ring leaders were taken -to St. Augustine by soldiers, and five -actually condemned to death. Of -these, two were pardoned; one was reprieved, -on condition that he act as -executioner of the remaining two; a -number of others were, for a time, -imprisoned.</p> - -<p class="c016">The wretched colonists, however, -continued to run away in larger numbers, -either defying or defeating recapture, -so that Turnbull eventually -found himself without labor. The -town, the plantations, and the various -public works were deserted, and the -vast enterprises thus despotically inaugurated, -were at last stranded.</p> - -<p class="c016">In vain did he, in the name of the -now semi-defunct London Trading -Company, make most liberal offers of -land and wages to his recalcitrant and -vanishing slaves. They wanted no -more of Turnbull, his methods, or his -works. The entire scheme fell -through; Dr. Andrew Turnbull went -back to England a ruined man; the -town crumbled into ruins, the indigo -plantations lapsed into a second forest -growth; the labyrinth of ditches filled<span class="pageno" id="Page_218">218</span> -up, until only the remains of the old -canal, some crumbling coquina ruins, -and the name of the chief despot himself, -now given to the ancient land grant -which was the scene of his cruelties, -and known generally as Turnbull -Hammock, are left as mementoes of -one of the gloomiest pages of our by -no means untroubled colonial annals.</p> - -<p class="c016">Instead of a natural increase in -numbers during ten years of bondage -and escape, not more than seven or -eight hundred of the immigrants were -left. But they were naturally thrifty -and economical. Once scattered out -and doing for themselves, unburdened -by the incubus of Turnbullism, their -numbers and resources gradually increased. -Probably several thousand -of their descendants, more or less intermixed -with alien blood, still occupy -the land of their forefathers’ adoption. -These are small farmers (engaged in -truck, and semi-tropic fruit growing), -fishermen, boat sailors, and petty -traders. A few have risen to social -and political eminence as well as -wealth. But these cases are rather -exceptional.</p> - -<p class="c016">As a whole, they are patriotic -American citizens. The late war with -Spain, for the relief of Cuba, proved -that. Many of the younger men volunteered -for service. Some even went -to the Philippines.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Free America vur beeg contree,” -said a returned soldier to one of his -home folks who had never seen a hill -higher than some of the great shell -mounds on the eastern shore of the -Matanzas River. “Mountains higher -than clouds, lakes wide like sea. Minorcans -vur small people. Room for -ever’one here. Home best place after -all.”</p> - -<p class="c016">And so it is, even for the posterity -of those so woefully misused by the -British Trading Company’s George -the Third methods, as to be miscalled -five generations later by local detractors, -“Turnbull’s slaves.”</p> - -<p class="c014"><span class="sc">Wm. Perry Brown.</span></p> - -<h3 class="c022">The Mosquito.</h3> - -<p class="c016">There are more than three -hundred and fifty tribes belonging -to the mosquito race. These -have been classified by the detectives -of science into twenty-two families, -and all placed in the same category -with gnats, which are looked upon by -most people as suspicious characters. -These families are known by names of -such “learned length and thundering -sound” that it is thought safest to abstain -from giving a list of them here; -but like man, they may be known -better by their color, habits and eccentricities -than by name.</p> - -<p class="c016">The mosquito is cosmopolitan, for he -has explored and settled many parts -of the arctic regions, including Alaska, -Greenland and Iceland, and established -his home on the continents of Europe, -Asia and Africa, and in the remotest -islands of the sea. He had very -probably discovered America before -Christopher Columbus set sail for the -new world, and it is now pretty certain -that he first colonized New Jersey.</p> - -<p class="c016">He has figured extensively in the -history of the world, yet he wears no -laurel wreath of glory for valor in war. -All martial victories and renown of his -race belong to the gentler (?) sex of -the family. She is a kind of Joan of -Arc, of a fierce, restless and war-like -spirit; but it is consoling to know that -she is less savage in the temperate than -in the torrid zone; for, we are informed -by travelers that in the tropics she -often leads her legions in a charge with -fixed bayonets directly upon a sleeping -man’s face, when they fall upon -him in myriads, like pelting hailstones -out of a storm-cloud.</p> - -<p class="c016">There are instances of record in -which her furious armies have filled -the air for many miles, darkening the -heavens like dense columns of flying -cloud, and attacking man and beast -like blood-thirsty demons. A Greek -historian relates that such an army -once swooped down upon ancient -Greece and drove the inhabitants from -their homes.</p> - -<p class="c016">Besides being thus famous as a -soldier, she enjoys the unique distinction -of being a queen of song. -Strange to say, in this gift she has a -complete monopoly, while the male -has been left to regret the sad fate of -being forever songless and silent. -However, he has been well compensated -for this privation. Some tribes<span class="pageno" id="Page_219">219</span> -of his race have less musical talent -than others; but those who have -studied his anatomy, habits and genius -declare that in tribes in which there -are queens of song, he is, without -doubt, the king of listeners, since -nature has provided him with many -hundreds of ears, no doubt to enhance -his pleasure from vocal music. These -curious ears are small hairs located on -his antennæ, or feelers, which, like the -strings of harp or violin under the -touch of a virtuoso, tremble in unison -with the harmony that flows from the -living melodion of his queen, until his -soul is on fire with melody. Not one -of these delicately attuned ears ever -seems to be shocked by a falsetto note -from the vocal chords of his charmer. -To him her song, like that of Wynomoinen, -the magical singer, or the sirens -of mythical story, is full of the power -of enchantment; and the eavesdroppers -of science who watch him and -listen, tell us that he draws near her -whenever she pours out her soul in -song. The manner in which she produces -her buzzing tones is very wonderful: -The lower or contralto note -is the result of the rapid vibration -of her wings at the rate of three -thousand per minute. It is not remarkable, -then, that her flight is so -swift from her enraged human pursuer. -But when she trills and yodles -and sings her high soprano, her fantastic -music flows from stridulating -organs which resemble tiny drums -at the openings of minute air tubes. -These higher runs thrill Monsignor -Mosquito into ecstacies of pure delight. -His ravished soul is borne out upon the -silver sea of song as he sits on a honeysuckle -sipping nectar, listening the -while to the wooing voices of his divine -inamoratas—the Pattis, Nilssons and -Nordicas of his race. But not so with -the human auditor of the mosquito -prima donna who lies peacefully on -his bed at night under the hypnotic -spell of sweet sleep. Perchance it is -midnight’s holy hour when he is suddenly -awakened by a still small voice -more pricking than the voice of conscience. -He springs up and lights the -gas or lamp and tries to draw nigh unto -lady mosquito as did her enchanted -knight with wings; he is thirsting for -her life while she is thirsting for his -blood.</p> - -<p class="c016">But not only is our heroine celebrated -in history as a warrior and a -vocalist, but as a most dangerous -enemy of mankind. Nature has seen -fit to give her a long nose, or proboscis, -which, according to the Darwinian -theory, might prove her to be related -to the elephant. She does not hesitate -“to stick her nose into other -people’s business,” and this is precisely -the thing which, in the case of -mosquitoes as of men, leads her into -irreparable injury to humanity and -very frequently to her own instant -demise.</p> - -<p class="c016">Those versed in the origin and evolution -of the Culex (a nickname for -the mosquito) teach us that his ancient -grandmothers did not have the blood-sucking -habit, but acquired it in later -ages. Whether in acquiring this habit -she was beset, like Mother Eve in Eden, -by the power of a mighty temptation -through the wily arts of his Satanic -majesty, we are unable to say with -certainty; but we are informed by her -anatomists that alongside her formidable -proboscis with its suction pump -fixtures, are from two to six keen -lances or spears, admirably adapted -for making the necessary incisions in -the skin of man and beast. Armed -with such weapons for drawing blood, -it is easy to guess how, during some -of her nightly wanderings as a minstrel, -temptation might have won an -easy victory over her by giving her a -taste of blood. It is probable that -while on one of these lonely serenades -she became enamored of some sleeping -Apollo, and, stooping down to -snatch a sweet warm kiss from his -lordly brow, accidentally stuck her bill -through the rosy cuticle and drew -blood—taking another sip she said it -was good, and thus she contracted the -blood-sucking habit.</p> - -<p class="c016">It is interesting to note that as with -many other nations of the air so with -this one, there is a sort of national -anthem to which the Culex patriots -seem more devotedly attached than -human patriots are to theirs. Its -divine strain, to the chivalrous male,<span class="pageno" id="Page_220">220</span> -is the very keynote of love, and he is -charmed by its resistless power and -drawn toward it as a beetle to a beacon -light, or a boat to a whirlpool; for -when its clarion note is sounded, like -the weird, wild melody of Orpheus of -old that thrilled dumb brutes and -drew them in myriads around him, he -is caught up and borne onward by its -powerful pull to the spot whence the -music comes.</p> - -<p class="c016">While experimenting with harmonic -telegraphy, a scientist of the South who -resides at Jackson, Miss., happened to -strike this key, and he reports that the -mosquito came toward the “sounder” -in great swarms. He soon afterwards -devised a machine for electrocuting -every mosquito that should respond -to the magical note. Upon the very -first trial they came teeming to the -“sounder,” and when he turned on -the electric current by pressing a button, -they fell dead by the scores at -his feet.</p> - -<p class="c016">What a boon to humanity this novel -application of electricity is destined -to be. With such an instrument having -a “sounder” attached, the disturbed -sleeper of the future, who is -not overly fond of mosquito song, -can touch a button, by his bedside, to -set the “sounder” to going, and then -press another button to turn on the -deadly current, and thus instantly -electrocute every mosquito that disturbs -his slumbers without ever moving -from his pillow. Now, it has been -urged by some that only the male -mosquitoes will answer to the note -made by the “sounder,” and thus only -they would suffer death by the device. -But this is by no means established, -and even if shown to be true, it is -evident that upon the males being -thus dispatched the females would -soon all withdraw or pine away with -grief.</p> - -<p class="c016">How vastly different and superior -is the male Culex to the female from -an ethical standpoint. He is opposed -to war and is a harmless vegetarian -and honey-sucker, while the female is -a dangerous savage. He does not find -his happiness in sucking the blood of -his human or other neighbor, but in -the contemplation of the beautiful. -He may well be called the poet of his -race; for he ever lives among the nectar -drips and the paradises of color and -perfume of the waiting flowers. He -soars aloft into the sweeter, purer air -to bathe his pinions in seas of radiant -sunshine. He roams among the beauties -of nature, seeking its sweets from -every bud and leaf. All thoughts that -flit across his microscopic brain are -free from blood and war. He loves -the beautiful wherever he finds it in -the visible and tangible world and even -in the fascinating buzz of his mosquito -prima donna. But as ideally good as -he seems to be, he, like man, has his -faults and frailties. He is fond of -travel and has been caught with many -of his female companions stealing long -rides on Pullman palace cars and -ocean steamers. He is also very fond -of beer, wine and whisky, and has -been found “dead drunk” on sundry -occasions. In this taste for intoxicants -the female Culex does not indulge.</p> - -<p class="c016">The mosquito has been recently -charged with murder, arrested and -brought to trial before a competent -tribunal composed of medical men -and others, and convicted. They have -proved that his spouse is the principal -and he the accomplice. The evidence -shows that they belong to a family -of mosquitoes, known by the infamous -name of <i>Anopheles</i>, and they have -used malaria, yellow fever and several -other diseases with which to slay man; -that the female is the entertainer of a -very small creature, a kind of Jonah, -whom she swallows, and after a time -he gets down from her stomach into -her proboscis, and when she bites her -human victim he leaps into the wound -where he remains and eats red-blood -corpuscles, and when grown he breaks -up into from six to ten pieces, each -piece making a new animal life like -the original; that they go on multiplying -in this way into millions in the -blood upon which they feast, and thus -produce these dreadful maladies and -consequent death.</p> - -<p class="c014"><span class="sc">Watauga.</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div class="figcenter id002"> -<span class="pageno" id="Page_221">221</span> -<img src="images/i_221.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> -<div> - <h2 class="c002">BOOKS AND AUTHORS</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>CONDUCTED BY GENELLA FITZGERALD NYE.</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<p class="c028"><span class="sc">Prison Life of Jefferson Davis.</span> By -Bvt. Lt. Col. John J. Craven, M.D. G. W. -Dillingham Company, New York. Price, -$1.20.</p> - -<p class="c016">The recent controversy concerning General -Miles and the shackling of Jefferson Davis -while the latter was a prisoner of war at -Fortress Monroe, makes this new edition of -Dr. Craven’s book, originally published in -1866, of timely value and importance. Dr. -Craven was the medical adviser of Mr. Davis -during most of his imprisonment, and his -notes, taken from daily and intimate intercourse -with his patient, form the basis of this -volume. While written with professional reserve -and military discretion, it is a most satisfactory -and reliable account of the facts concerning -the imprisonment of Mr. Davis, and -throws an interesting and significant light on -his character as viewed on close range by a -political enemy at a time when prejudice and -passion so generally usurped the place of -judgment. Dr. Craven frankly expresses his -original prejudiced and bitter attitude toward -his patient, even to naming the precise occasion -on which a kindlier sentiment was -aroused in his breast. A stronger, sincerer -tribute to Mr. Davis’ character could hardly -be conceived than this plain and unadorned -record of the change effected in the attitude -of an honest enemy toward the man whom -he abhorred as a kind of moral monster. -Dr. Craven was not only impressed with the -learning and ability of his distinguished -prisoner, but again and again bears impartial -witness to his modesty, fortitude, and unselfishness, -relating conversations and incidents -which particularly impressed him at -the time. The strength of that impression -is sufficiently evinced by the fact that Dr. -Craven had the courage to publish such a -book at a time when sectional feeling ran -so high.</p> - -<p class="c016">The facts in regard to the shameful treatment -of Mr. Davis by General Miles are fully -confirmed by copies of the official reports -bearing on the matter, and the account is a -painful commentary on the injustice and -cruelty of the policy allowed to rule in regard -to a conquered people. Mr. Davis was sick -and feeble; moreover, he was closely guarded -night and day, in an impregnable fortress. -Under the circumstances his shackling was -a wanton and unnecessary humiliation of a -helpless man, and the bare relation of the -incident as witnessed by Dr. Craven, though -set down without comment or criticism, is -enough to make the blood of any generous -reader boil with indignation and revolt. It -is impossible to doubt the honesty and accuracy -of such a record, and it must remain a -heavy indictment against those responsible -for the outrage here detailed. Dr. Craven’s -son, who republishes this book, is fully justified -in so doing, not only for the satisfaction -of a present interest, but for the consideration -of future generations.</p> - -<p class="c028"><span class="sc">The Marriage of William Ashe.</span> By Mrs. -Humphrey Ward. Harper and Brothers, -New York. Price, $1.50.</p> - -<p class="c016">Mrs. Ward in her latest novel works very -much the same combination which proved to -so exactly fit the public taste in “Lady Rose’s -Daughter,” and if the result is not the same -success, it will be only because the popular -impression will be dulled by repetition. -Again we have a heroine nurtured in a scandalous -menage in Paris and shadowed by a -criminal heredity, and Lady Kitty, like Julie -in the earlier novel, has two lovers, contrasted -in character much as were Delafield and -the caddish young soldier to whom Julie so -nearly yielded. The crucial moment of -temptation, however, comes to Lady Kitty -after her marriage, and the hand of fate which -snatched Julie from danger plunges the -later heroine into the abyss of ruin and -disgrace. William Ashe, like Marchmont, -is of a noble house and high in political circles,<span class="pageno" id="Page_222">222</span> -but he is not quite so much of an archangel, -though he, too, exhibits a patient and tolerant -forbearance toward the indiscretions and -errors of the woman he loves, which, however -philosophical, somewhat removes him from -the normal human type and its sympathies. -Geoffrey Cliffe, the objectionable lover, is a -poet instead of a soldier, but he, too, woos -Kitty to disgrace and finally meets a violent -death. Both novels are elaborate studies of -heredity, and in each the final decision between -irretrievable error and duty hangs upon -an unforeseen incident which turns the scales -like a fate.</p> - -<p class="c016">Again Mrs. Ward has drawn on real life for -her characters and plot. The Byronic inspiration -of Geoffrey Cliffe is sufficiently -obvious and the suggestion of Lady Caroline -Lamb’s story is plainly to be read in Lady -Kitty and her obsession. More than one -prominent political figure of a generation -ago has been promptly identified by the -English reviewers.</p> - -<p class="c016">Of the two heroines, Lady Kitty is a better -realization than Julie, who, to our mind quite -failed to keep the novelist’s promise of intellectual -brilliancy and social magnetism. -It is really a wonderful and poignant impression -conveyed by Mrs. Ward’s elaborate -picture of Lady Kitty, frail and fair, passionate -and weak, poetic and frivolous, sweet and -perverse—with a lack of moral and mental -balance which spells for us nothing less than -insanity. For after all, we are disposed to -question whether such a character is not -properly a study in alienism rather than in -feminine psychology. That she was not a responsible -agent, but merely the unfortunate -creature of her own impelling fancies and -passions, is the view stressed by every implication -of the author, and indeed, against the -very shady record of Lady Kitty’s life can -only be pleaded temperamental insanity and -hereditary sin.</p> - -<p class="c016">An equally elaborate, but not so successful, -piece of work is the presentation of William -Ashe. He is depicted as a kind of Admirable -Crichton—handsome, learned, amiable—a -scholar, a statesman, and a social lion. -“Religiously he was a skeptic, enormously -interested in religion. Politically he was an -aristocrat, enormously interested in liberty.” -But with all the author’s keen analysis and -clever descriptive phrases, this versatile and -philosophical hero never becomes very real -to our perceptions or sympathies. It would -seem that his creator had fashioned and -molded him carefully and perfectly, but had -failed to breathe into him the breath of life.</p> - -<p class="c016">Mrs. Ward’s rich literary equipment is no -less manifest in this novel than in her previous -works, and her power to deal with the larger -interests of life is undiminished. The old -time English society novel in her hands has -been expanded, dignified, transformed, into -a serious and significant presentation of life -and its problems. Her outlook on the world -of thought, of affairs, and of men and women -is technically informed and philosophically -impartial; her talent is enormously efficient. -Perhaps her remarkable ability was never -better demonstrated than when she made in -“Lady Rose’s Daughter” a deliberate bid -for a wider and lower kind of popular -favor. The new appeal, so marked in that -book and in “The Marriage of William -Ashe,” was so skilfully turned and has been -so successful in enlarging the writer’s -clientele, that as a literary <i>tour de force</i>, it -challenges a kind of unwilling admiration. -There seem to be lacking to her marvelous -gifts and powers only the touch of spontaneity, -the flash of dramatic fire.</p> - -<p class="c028"><span class="sc">The Georgians.</span> By Will N. Harben, author -of “Abner Daniel,” “The Substitute,” etc. -New York: Harper and Brother. Price, -$1.50.</p> - -<p class="c016">The plain people of the South, the sturdy -common folk who made no pretensions to -aristocratic grandeur but who in self-respect, -prosperity and character, formed in this section, -as elsewhere, the backbone of civilization -and society, have not received their due -representation in Southern fiction, generally -speaking. Baronial splendors, “po’ white -trash” peculiarities, and darky picturesqueness -have been the favored themes of most -Southern story-tellers, moving in the lines of -least resistance to romantic and dramatic -interest, while the great middle class has been -made to occupy a disproportionately small -place in their pictures of Southern life. It -is not mere accident that the Georgia writers -have given us the fullest and best treatment -of this class, for in Georgia pre-eminently it -dominated and colored the political and -social body to a marked degree. Richard -Malcolm Johnson, Joel Chandler Harris, and -Watson have all given us stories with a strong -flavor of the soil and the people who chiefly -owned and cultivated it, and Mr. Harben’s -tales of north Georgia have been notably -successful in this line of fiction.</p> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_223">223</span></div> - -<p class="c016">In “Abner Daniel,” Mr. Harben achieved -one of the rarest things in modern fiction—a -genuine creation. Typically, sympathetically, -imaginatively, Abner Daniel rings true; -in spirit and letter he is a perfect presentation. -Broadly human as he is unmistakably North -Georgian, he may be described as a Southern -David Harum; but of the two characters Abner -Daniel seems to us far more vital, far less -dependent on his make-up and gags for reality. -In “The Georgians,” Abner reappears, -this time as the <i>deus ex machina</i> of a mysterious -murder case, involving the love affair and -various other interests of the story. The -little village of Darley is sketched faithfully -and sympathetically, and it is peopled with -folk, whom we either know, or instinctively -recognize as real. Under the not very deceptive -alias of Tom P. Smith, Mr. Harben -pictures a certain noted evangelist of Georgia -and his revivalist methods, while as a companion -piece he presents Jack Bantram, of -another ecclesiastical type, who makes a -simple and direct appeal to conscience and -manhood. The religious ideals and customs -of such communities have never received -fuller or more sympathetic treatment -than in this story, and, indeed, we may find -here in simple, but effective narration, a most -truthful picture of plain, provincial Georgia -life in all its phases and forms. Among the -real historical novels—those which are recording -the vanishing social history of our -nation—“The Georgians” deserves place -and consideration.</p> - -<p class="c028"><span class="sc">Mysterious Mr. Sabin.</span> By E. Phillips -Oppenheim, Author of “A Prince of Sinners,” -“Anna, the Adventuress,” etc. -Boston: Little, Brown and Company. -Price, $1.50.</p> - -<p class="c016">A most remarkable as well as mysterious -individual is the villain of Mr. Oppenheim’s -latest yarn. He appears in London with a -beautiful girl who turns all the men’s heads -and inspires young Lord Wolfenden with a -sudden and serious passion. By a curious -coincidence this young man’s father is a retired -admiral, with a mania for writing up the -coast defenses of England, while Mr. Sabin’s -mission in England is to get possession of -these papers to sell to the German Emperor. -A political intrigue is involved, in which Mr. -Sabin, as agent for the French Bourbons, has -conceived the brilliant scheme of buying -Germany’s aid with naval secrets of England, -fully set forth in the maps and notes of the -naval monomaniac. The success of these -plans would be followed by war between England -and Germany, and the coronation of -Princess Helene—the mysterious young lady, -of course—as Queen of France. There are -all sorts of complications and sensational -happenings, and just as things begin to look -rather dark for the lovers and the peace of -England, a nihilistic order checks Mr. Sabin’s -operations and crushes his hopes and ambitions. -This winds up the troubles of Wolfenden -and his Princess, and prefaces the most -remarkable and exciting adventures of Mr. -Sabin as he flees incognito to America to escape -the wrath of the disappointed war lord -of Germany. Greatly to the reader’s relief, -this most engaging villain arrives safely in -Boston Harbor and we leave him settling -down to a peaceful obscurity with his first -love, to whom his bitterest enemy had rather -inconsequentially directed him before he -left England.</p> - -<p class="c016">To the critical eye, the machinery of Mr. -Oppenheim’s story is somewhat too evident, -and occasionally it rattles and creaks, but -it goes at a rapid rate, and the result is just -what is intended—an interesting and exciting -story, to be read with easy and pleasurable -interest and forgotten immediately.</p> - -<p class="c028"><span class="sc">The Monks’ Treasure.</span> By George Horton, -Author of “Like Another Helen.” Indianapolis: -The Bobbs-Merrill Company. Price, -$1.50.</p> - -<p class="c016">Walter Lythgoe, the nephew of Erasmus -Lythgoe, head of the great Lythgoe Baking -Powder, is sent by the firm to Greece to lay in -a supply of crude cream of tartar, and is dispatched -on his errand with the admonition, -“Keep out of all scrapes and complications -with women.” Naturally the first thing done -by the young man as he arrives on the -island of Andros is to fall in love with a -fair maiden and to immediately involve -himself in the most gratuitous scrapes and -astounding complications ever concocted for -a novel hero to wriggle out of. Of course the -fair maiden whom he loves so artlessly and -chivalrously as the servant of the missionary -turns out to be a duchess, and equally, of -course, the treasure discovered by Walter -and his friend in the vault of the monastery -is her stolen patrimony. Walter conceives -the brilliant scheme of carrying off the bags -of gold, and after a series of incredible adventures, -in which he and his Scotch crony -pit their wits and courage against a jealous<span class="pageno" id="Page_224">224</span> -Greek lover and some murderous monks, -the hero sails out triumphant from the island -of Andros with his lady love and a trunk -full of treasure.</p> - -<p class="c016">The local coloring of the story is confined -to the adjectives “rosy” and “purple,” -sprinkled plentifully throughout the book, -and despite the often stressed conjunction -with the “amphora,” the beautiful Polyxene -seems not widely differentiated from any unsophisticated -heroine of more familiar climes. -In fact, Mr. Horton has not succeeded in galvanizing -a very mechanical series of adventures -into real vitality by transporting his -puppets and wheels to Greece.</p> - -<p class="c028"><span class="sc">The River’s Children</span>: An Idyl of the Mississippi. -By Ruth McEnery Stuart. New -York: The Century Co.</p> - -<p class="c016">In her “Sonny” stories Mrs. Stuart struck -the note of original and homely humor to -which the popular taste is so quick to respond -and for that reason achieved therein -her greatest success, but her tales of Creoles -and negroes in the Lower Mississippi region -have distinctive merit in their vivid and -poetic pictures of the great river and its children. -To her imagination the Mississippi is -not the Father of Waters, but “Old Lady -Mississippi,” a witch, a siren, a queen—to -fear, to propitiate, and to worship, and to -the strength of this conception “The River’s -Children” bears striking testimony. The -slender thread of story runs almost unnoted -among the poetic and picturesque descriptions -of the river and the quaint and charming -patois of the river people. The great stream -sweeps supreme through the book, its poetry, -beauty and tragedy looming up larger upon -our impression than the magnificence of the -Le Ducs or the rather highly colored sketches -of Israel and Hannah. Wonderful is the -account of Brake Island in its days of fatness -culminating in the glories of the famous house-party -long ago; and a clever bit of reproduction, -at once keen and kindly, is the talk of -“Felix” and “Adolphe” on the peril of the -rising waters. Not even Cable has caught -more perfectly the foreign idiom and softened -English of these foreign Americans, or their -pleasure-loving, childlike temperament.</p> - -<p class="c016">Mrs. Stuart’s imagination and poetry, like -her beloved river, sometimes overflow unhappily, -as may be noted in some of the talk -between Uncle Israel and Mammy Hannah, -where instead of the flash of poetic imagery -so characteristic of the negro, Mrs. Stuart -gives us sustained and elaborate rhetoric and -sentiment. To our perception, too, the story -should have ended with the death of the old -negro couple, and what follows seems a decline -to an anti-climax.</p> - -<p class="c016">Mrs. Stuart is fully imbued with the traditions -of the lordly, lavish life of the old -Creole days, and she knows and loves the land -of the Lower Mississippi. The result has been -seen in some charming and vivid sketches -of which “The River’s Children” ranks -among her best.</p> - -<p class="c028"><span class="sc">Return</span>: a Story of the Sea Islanders in 1739. -By Alice MacGowan and Grace MacGowan -Cooke. L. C. Page and Company, Boston. -Price, $1.50.</p> - -<p class="c016">This is an extremely hollow piece of literary -labor, with seemingly no other inspiration -than Mary Johnson’s romances. There is no -atmosphere wherefrom incident or characters -could draw any vital semblance, and the -style is the thinnest and stalest decoction -of Miss Johnson’s manner and diction. It -is to be hoped that the writers will once for -all forswear the field of colonial history and -romance, and return to their own—the life -they know and can describe so well in Texas -and Tennessee.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> - <span class="pageno" id="Page_225">225</span> - <h2 class="c002">THE FIDDLE AND THE BOW.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>By Robert L. Taylor.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class="c022">PART SECOND.</h3> - -<p class="c016">What is this life but a whirling tide -of pleasure and pain—glowing with -gladness, darkening with grief, leaping -with rapture, eddying with tears, now -kissing the smiling cliffs of hope, now -dashing against the frowning crags of -fear and then vanishing in the darkness! -What would it all be worth to -us unblessed by love and mercy and -the milk of human kindness? What -would it all be worth to us bereft of -music, that noblest gift of the soul?</p> - -<p class="c016">The spirit of music, like an archangel, -presides over mankind and the -visible creation. Her afflatus, divinely -sweet, divinely powerful, is breathed -on every heart and inspires every soul -to some higher thought, some grander -sentiment.</p> - -<p class="c016">I heard a great master play on his -wondrous violin. His bow quivered -like the wing of a bird. In every quiver -there was a melody, and every melody -breathed a thought in language -sweeter than was ever uttered by -human tongue. I was conjured, I -was mesmerized by his music. I -thought I fell asleep under its power -and was rapt into the realms of -visions and dreams. The enchanted -violin broke out in tumult, and in its -music I thought I heard the rustle of -a thousand joyous wings and the burst -of song from a thousand joyous -throats; mocking-birds and linnets -thrilled the glad air with warblings; -goldfinches, thrushes and bobolinks -trilled their happiest tunes and the -oriole sang a lullaby to her hanging -cradle that rocked in the wind. I -heard the twitter of skimming swallows, -the scattered coveys’ piping call. -I heard the robin’s gay whistle, the -cawing of crows, the scolding of blue-jays -and the melancholy cooing of a -dove. The swaying tree tops seemed -vocal with bird song while he played, -and the labyrinths of leafy shade -echoed back the chorus.</p> - -<p class="c016">There was a shifting of the bow, -and I heard a flute play and a harp -and a golden-mouthed cornet. I -heard the mirthful babble of happy -voices and peals of laughter ringing -in the swelling tide of pleasure. Then -I thought I caught glimpses of snowy -arms, voluptuous forms and light, -fantastic slippered feet all whirling -in the mazes of the misty dance. The -flying fingers now tripped upon the -trembling strings like fairy feet dancing -on the nodding violets, and the -music glided into a still sweeter strain. -The violin told a story of human life: -Two lovers strayed among the elms -and oaks and down by the river side -where daffodils and pansies bend and -smile to rippling waves, and there, -under the bloom of incense-breathing -bowers, the old, old story—so old and -yet so new, conceived in heaven, first -told in Eden, then handed down -through all the ages,—was told over -and over again. Ah! those downward -drooping eyes, that mantling blush, -that trembling hand in meek submission -pressed! How well they told of -love’s victory won and Paradise regained! -And then he swung her in -a grape-vine swing:</p> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">“Swinging in the grape-vine swing,</div> - <div class="line">Laughing where the wild birds sing</div> - <div class="line in4">I dream and sigh</div> - <div class="line in4">For the days gone by,</div> - <div class="line">Swinging in the grape-vine swing!”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">But the violin laughed like a child -and my dream changed again. I saw -a cottage among the elms and oaks -and a little curly head toddled at the -door. He toddled under the trees, -prattling to the birds and playing with -the ripening apples that fell upon the -ground. He toddled among the roses -and plucked their leaves as he would -have plucked an angel’s wing, strewing -their glory upon the green grass -at his feet. He chased the butterflies -from flower to flower and shouted with<span class="pageno" id="Page_226">226</span> -glee as they eluded his grasp and sailed -away on the summer air. Here I -thought his childish fancy had built -a Paradise and peopled it with dainty -seraphim and made himself its Adam. -He saw the sunlight of Eden glint on -every leaf and beam in every petal. -The flitting honey bee, the whirling -June bug, the fluttering breeze, the -silvery pulse beat of the dashing brook, -sounded in his ears notes of its swelling -music. The iris-winged humming -bird darting like a sunbeam to kiss the -pouting lips of the upturned flowers -was to him the impersonation of its -beauty. And I said, truly childhood -is the nearest approach in this world -to the Paradise of long ago. Then I -saw him skulking like a Cupid in the -shrubbery, his face downcast with -guilt, his skirts bedraggled and soiled. -He had waded the Atlantic ocean in -the mud puddle, and stirred up the -Mediterranean sea in the slop bucket. -He had shipwrecked the young ducks, -capsized the goslings, and drowned the -kitten, which he imagined a whale. -And I said, there is the old original -Adam coming to the surface.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Lawd bless my soul, jis look at dat -chil’! Look at dat face and dem -hands, all kivered wid mud and mulberry -juice! You’s gwine to ketch -it! Jis ’zactly like your fadder,—always -gittin’ into some scrape or nudder—always -breakin’ into some kind -uv debilment! Gwine to brek into -Congress some uv dese days, sho! -Dey can’t keep you out’n it! Come -along wid me dis instinct to de baf -tub! I’se gwine to wash dat face uv -yown an’ lucidate some uv dat dirt -off’n dem han’s an’ dem clo’es, you -triflin’ rascal, you!” and so saying she -carried him away kicking and screaming -like a young savage in open rebellion.</p> - -<p class="c016">And I said, there is some more of the -original Adam. Then I saw him come -forth again, washed and dressed in -spotless white like a young butterfly -fresh from its chrysalis, and when he -got a chance, I saw him slip on his -tiptoes into the pantry, and there was -the clink of glassware as though a -mouse was playing there among the -jam pots and preserves. There two -little dimpled hands made trip after -trip to a rose-colored mouth, bearing -burdens of mingling sweets that -dripped from cheek and chin and skirt -and shoes, subduing the snowy white -with the amber of the peach and the -purple of the raspberry as he ate of -the forbidden fruit. Then I saw him -glide into the library and soon there -was a crash and a thud in there which -brought a frightened mother into the -room only to find the young rascal -catching his breath while streams of -cold ink trickled down his drenched -bosom. And as he wiped his inky -face, which grew blacker with every -wipe, the remainder of the ink was -pouring from the bottle onto the carpet -and making a map of darkest Africa. -Then the rear of a small skirt went up -over a curly head and the avenging -slipper in lightning strokes kept time -to the music in the air. And I said, -there is Paradise lost! The sympathizing, -half angry old nurse bore her -weeping, sobbing charge to the nursery -and bound up his broken heart, -and soothed him to sleep with her old-time -lullaby:</p> - -<div class="lg-container-b c024"> - <div class="linegroup"> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">O, don’t you cry, little baby; don’t you cry no mo’,</div> - <div class="line">For it hurts ole mammy’s feelin’s for to hear you weepin’ so!</div> - <div class="line">Why do dey bring temptation to de little hands and feet?</div> - <div class="line">What makes ’em ’buse de baby, kase de jam and ’zarves am sweet?</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">O, de sorrows, triberlations, dat de joys of mortals break;</div> - <div class="line">O, it’s heaven when we slumber, it’s trouble when we wake!</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">O, go to sleep, my darlin’, now close dem little eyes</div> - <div class="line">And dream uv de shinin’ angels an’ de blessed Paradise;</div> - <div class="line">O, dream uv de blood red roses and de birds on snowy wing,</div> - <div class="line">O, dream uv de fallin’ waters and de nebber endin’ spring!</div> - </div> - <div class="group"> - <div class="line">O de roses, O de rainbows! O de music’s gentle swell!</div> - <div class="line">In de dreamland uv little children whar de blessed spirits dwell.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">“Dar now, dar now, he’s gone! -Bless its little heart! Dey treats it like -a dog. Ole black mammy’s de best -friend de chile’s got in de world!” -And then she tucked him away in the -Paradise of his childish slumbers.</p> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>[<i>To be continued.</i>]</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - <span class="pageno" id="Page_227">227</span> - <h2 class="c002">SOUTHERN<br /> PLATFORM<br /> DEPARTMENT</h2> -</div> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div><i>Devoted to the interest</i></div> - <div class="c009"><i>of</i></div> - <div class="c009"><i>The Lyceum of The South.</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter id002"> -<img src="images/i_227.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div class="figcenter id002"> -<span class="pageno" id="Page_228">228</span> -<img src="images/i_228.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> -<div> - <h2 class="c002">Southern Platform</h2> -</div> - -</div> - -<h3 class="c022">The Humorous, the Pathetic and the Dramatic.</h3> - -<p class="c016">These are the ruling elements of the platform. Around them are built all -the successes of the Lyceum, and the lack of them is responsible for all the -failures that stand like tombstones, along the route, as we journey with the -truly great.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id004"> -<img src="images/i_229.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c016">We are all agreed on the efficacy of humor, and we join without dissent in -lauding the man who has the power to make the world laugh. He is as much -our benefactor as the man whose scholarly and laborious research solves for -us some great scientific problem which sets civilization forward; for, does he -not unlock for us the gates of mirth, and climax a day of toil with an hour -of restful merriment? His side-splitting joke pays the Doctor’s bill in advance -by keeping us well and hearty; it settles pro tem. the grocer’s bill by making -us forget it. His clever story charms and fascinates us, and we follow him -down sunny lanes of laughter, and through sighing groves of pathos until the -cares and vexations of our busy lives recede from us like a troubled shore. -With the God-like power of genius, he leads us out of the thorn-hedged paths -of everyday life, into the happy garden of the ideal where the flowers of sentiment -bloom perennial, and the song of every bird is a lilted fragment of the -universal chorus of love. This magic garden on the margin of the dusty field -of reality from which we dig our daily bread, is an oasis to which we may not -long repair, but to linger for an hour rests us from toil and refreshes us for labor. -From behind its roses no venomous serpent is privileged to strike, and from its -peaceful skies no hurricane may swoop down to lay waste. ’Tis there that -the eye of despair is kindled with hope, the brow of care is smoothed with forgetfulness, -and the lips of melancholy are curled with a smile.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id004"> -<img src="images/i_229.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c016">All hail to the man of humor and pathos! (He cannot possess one without -possessing the other.) Pathos is but the gentle sister of humor. Her emotions<span class="pageno" id="Page_229">229</span> -have no kinship with sorrow; her tears are the trembling jewels of tender -memories, and she has only to dry her eyes to disclose a smile.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id004"> -<img src="images/i_229.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Next to humor and pathos, the most important requisite to a successful -career on the platform, is the dramatic element which enables a man to “suit -the action to the word,” and by the subtle power of the actor’s art, bring us -to worship or despise, at his will, the character he portrays, or the principle -he advocates. We hang at highest tension on the words of such a man, when -the same words spoken in a commonplace way, would send us to sleep in our -seats. How often have we seen the beauty of the Lord’s Prayer marred by -some guttural-voiced exhorter who delivered it as coldly as he would have read -a report of the mule market, or the price of pumpkins! and yet it is said that -the great Booth with his incomparable rendition of this sacred prayer could -lead an audience into the very presence and smile of God. Since time began, -the dramatic in art and literature has received the homage of all people and -all nations. This love of the dramatic sits enthroned alike in the heart of -the savage and the man of letters, the highwayman and the clergyman, the -ignoramus and the intellectual Titan. This strange attribute in the make-up -of humanity is at once a dangerous and a glorious element. Too often it has -nerved the murderer’s hand and steeled the heart of cruelty, but civilization -is the master which is taming it.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id004"> -<img src="images/i_229.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c016">In the long gone ages of heartless kings and fawning subjects, when fierce -gladiators met in the death struggle, and the cruel ruler and his multitudes -cheered the ending of a human life, they were but satiating their unholy love -of the dramatic. Before such a picture, the great common heart of to-day -turns sick with horror, but there is another picture dimmed also with many -centuries, which makes the blood leap with different emotions, and which the -future will guard with jealous pride. It is the dramatic picture of a little -band of Christians in the center of a vast arena, awaiting the approach of the -wild beasts which are to tear their limbs apart, and quietly kneeling in their -last prayer. The dramatic effect of that prayer sent a thrill through all the -ages, and nerved the hearts of the millions who were to follow the martyrs, -as no common incident could have done.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id004"> -<img src="images/i_229.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c016">We worship tragedy, and find satisfaction only in thrilling climaxes, and -out of the multitudes of the passing years, history hands us the names of only -a few who have paid the price of deathless fame. The tragic death of Julius -Cæsar magnified his mighty deeds a hundred fold, and the dramatic but inglorious -climax of St. Helena sent the great Napoleon thundering into history.</p> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_230">230</span></div> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_230.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016"><span class="sc">GUY CARLTON LEE, Ph.D., LL.D.</span></p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="c018">Dr. Guy Carlton Lee, Literary Editor of the Baltimore <i>Sun</i>, and formerly of the faculties -of Johns Hopkins and Columbia Universities, is the latest acquisition of the platform among -the strong literary men of to-day. He is the most distinguished of our younger school of -historians, and as an orator he belongs to the vigorous, dramatic type so ably represented -by Wendling and Gunsaulus, who have long been familiar figures on the American platform. -Dr. Lee’s first lecture tour will include the South the coming season, under the -direction of The Rice Bureau of Nashville.</p> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_231">231</span></div> - -<h3 class="c022">The Mysteries</h3> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>By James Hunt Cook</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="drop-capa0_0_6 c015">The early sunlight filtered through the -filmy draperies to where a wondering baby -stretched his dimpled hands to catch the -rays that lit his face and flesh like dawn lights -up a rose. His startled gaze caught and held the -dawn of day in rapturous looks that spoke the -dawn of Self, for with the morning gleam out -came the greater wonder. It was the mystery -of Life.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id004"> -<img src="images/i_229.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Across a cradle where, sunk in satin pillows, -lay a still, pale form as droops a rose from some -fierce heat, the evening shadows aslant, and spoke -of peace. The twilight calm enclosed the world -in silence deep as Truth, and on the little face -the wondering look had given place to one of sweet -repose. It was the mystery Death.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id004"> -<img src="images/i_229.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c016">At head and foot the tapers burned, a golden -light that clove the night as Hope the encircling -gloom. Across the cot where lay the fair, frail -form, his hand reached out to hers and met and -clasped in tender burning touch. Into the eyes -of each there came the look that is the light of -life; that spoke of self to each, yet told they -two were one. It was the mystery to which the -mysteries, Life and Death, bow down—the mystery -of Love.</p> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_232">232</span></div> - -<h3 class="c022">Thomas Jefferson and the Average Man.</h3> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div class="small">[Extract from lecture of Dana C. Johnson on “Thomas Jefferson.”]</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">The epitaph on the monument of -Thomas Jefferson, written by himself, -reads thus:</p> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div class="small">HERE WAS BURIED</div> - <div>THOMAS JEFFERSON</div> - <div class="small">AUTHOR OF</div> - <div>The Declaration of American Independence,</div> - <div>of the Statute of Virginia for Religious</div> - <div>Freedom and Father of</div> - <div>the University of</div> - <div>Virginia.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">These three deeds he doubtless regarded -as the greatest of his life. But -the real greatness of Thomas Jefferson, -and his value to his country, cannot -be comprehended in any recital of -specific deeds. His influence is of a -broader scope and flows in a deeper -current. He stood for a principle -which to-day constitutes the very bulwark -of this nation, and is not only -her strength but her pride. That -principle is the right of every citizen -to have a part in the government of -the nation—to direct its policy—to -be responsible for its errors—to share -in its triumphs.</p> - -<p class="c016">Thomas Jefferson recognized the -value and stood for the rights of the -average man, in a time when those -rights were in great jeopardy. In this -he displayed his characteristic political -foresight, for the average man is the -backbone of the nation. He has -achieved the triumphs of her past and -holds the key to her future destiny.</p> - -<p class="c016">In my mind’s eye I scan the history -of our nation as one might view a -panorama.</p> - -<p class="c016">I see a company of stern-faced men -land on the bleak New England shore -and kneel in prayer upon a rocky -beach. They have crossed a stormy -ocean to engage in the hard task of -establishing a colony in the New -World, where they may worship God -as they desire—the earnest, stalwart, -heroic Pilgrim Fathers. But who are -they? Average men.</p> - -<p class="c016">Yonder is a company of men standing -at Concord Bridge awaiting the -advance of British regulars. They -fight and some fall in the battle and by -that sacrifice become immortal—the -first martyrs to American liberty. -Who are they? Volunteer soldiers—farmers -and tradesmen—average men -of the community.</p> - -<p class="c016">I see a caravan of crude and picturesque -conveyances wending their way -across the Western plains—each wagon -containing a family of pioneers—the -advance-guard of civilization—enduring -hardships and performing mighty -labors of which we reap the benefits. -Who are they? Average men and -women.</p> - -<p class="c016">Here are two armies drawn up in -battle order—hundreds of thousands -of young and valiant men; fighting for -what they regard their rights and duties; -suffering unspeakable privations -and performing deeds of matchless -valor—the army of the North and the -army of the South—whose conflict -demonstrated to the world the extraordinary -resources of this nation, the -exceptional qualities of the American -soldier and the absolutely unconquerable -strength of a united country. -Who are these soldiers? Fathers and -sons from farm and store and factory. -Average men.</p> - -<p class="c016">I see a half-dozen regiments charging -a Cuban hillside to dislodge a -fortified enemy—strong, alert, confident -soldiers—their courage born of -the consciousness that they are fighting -for right and justice against wrong -and oppression. Who are they? A -strange conglomeration of militia men, -regular army soldiers, nabobs from -New York, rough riders from the -plains—but all of them average -men.</p> - -<p class="c016">So through all the years of our nation’s -history, in the hours of her peril -and of her achievements, she has been -saved from shame and has been -crowned with glory by the deeds of -her average men.</p> - -<p class="c016">Great men have arisen from time to -time to lead her armies into battle or<span class="pageno" id="Page_233">233</span> -to defend her principles of liberty and -justice, but, after all, these leaders had -been powerless and, indeed, impossible -except for the rank and file—the host -of average men, who followed them -and put into effect their teaching; not -as slaves, but as free men doing their -duty as intellect and conscience had -directed.</p> - -<p class="c016">Who is it that will determine the -future policy of this nation and write -success or failure above her gates? -Not her millionaires, nor her statesmen, -nor her scholars, nor her soldiers, -but the average men whose votes count -millions in the aggregate and whose -will is law.</p> - -<p class="c016">Thomas Jefferson understood this -and read the future with unerring -mind. Therefore he made it his chief -concern and his great political work -to protect the rights and enlarge the -privileges of the average man—the -bone and sinew of the state.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_233.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">HON. ALF TAYLOR,<br />One of the most eloquent and scholarly -contributions to the intellectual menu of the coming -season will be the new lecture of Hon. Alf Taylor, “If Columbus Should Wake.”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_234">234</span></div> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_234.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">SAMUEL SIEGEL.<br />Samuel Siegel, the great mandolinist, who is known to more people than any other player of -this instrument, is very popular throughout the South. He is the originator of the system -used by the Siegel-Myers Correspondence School of Music, and is also exclusive mandolinist -for the Edison, Victor and Columbia Phonograph Companies. Mr. Siegel will tour the South -next season at the head of the Siegel-Meyer-Reed Concert Company.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_235">235</span></div> - -<h3 class="c022">The Lyceum Platform.</h3> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>By Dr. James Hedley.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">The Lyceum Platform is one of the -world’s evangels. It has its teachers, -heroes, apostles and prophets. It has -had a wonderful history, and is still -making history. It is a marvellous -power for intellectual, social and moral -good, and never more so than to-day. -Its lecturers are strong not only in -their ability to entertain, but in all -those attributes which make for the -best in human character. It goes -without saying that such men come -to the people with a message. Whether -it be Watterson or Graves, or De -Motte, or Conwell or Wendling, or -Willitts; whether Dolliver, Gunsaulus, -Hillis, Miller, Bain, McIntyre, McClary, -or delightful Bob Taylor, the -minds, hearts and consciences of men -are turned in the direction of right -things, and there is an impetus -and an uplift which blesses all who -hear.</p> - -<p class="c016">How wide the influence, and how -great the responsibility of the lyceum -lecturer! In a general way, at least, -all men concede the power of oratory. -The close student of the sources of -human influence fully recognizes that -power, in all its good and evil possibilities. -Eloquently spoken words -produce more immediate and fully as -permanent results as eloquently written -ones. When Demosthenes delivered -a patriotic oration, the people who -heard him said at once, “Let us go and -fight Philip!” A little child after listening -to George Whitefield’s beautiful -and impassioned pictures of Heaven -and the Deity, sobbed, “Let me go to -Mr. Whitefield’s God!” There are -hundreds in our country to-day who -are what they are, not only in the success -and happiness of their own lives, -but as factors toward the wise solution -of the profoundest problems of being -because of the spoken words, the messages -of the present-day lyceum.</p> - -<p class="c016">The Lyceum Platform thirty and -forty years ago could boast of a score of -thinkers, some of whom were orators; -they served well their day and generation; -products of the “form and pressure -of the time,” they met its requirements, -and left behind them evidences -of work nobly done, and no man can -say the memory of them shall perish. -In far greater measure, because of the -infinitely greater number of superior -lecturers, the common people to-day -are being educated in every phase of -thought and purpose worthy earnest -consideration. When one considers -all this, the faint cry occasionally heard -from those who do not take wide views -of existing conditions, as to the “decay -of the lyceum” is not warranted. -Wherever and whenever the true lyceum -idea is conserved in the work of -the platform, the evidences of strength, -wisdom and beauty are at once evident -and undeniable.</p> - -<p class="c016">Since the earlier days, the Lyceum -has taken on an entertainment phase, -which, while not wholly related to the -lyceum idea, serves admirably in -meeting and filling the desire there is -and ever will be in the human heart -for the joyous pleasures of life. The -entertainment side of the Lyceum belongs -to the realm of the heart paramountly, -if not wholly, while the work -of the lecturer appeals to the intellect -and the conscience, and so the “three -thirds” which make men up—the -Mind, the Heart and the Conscience—are -accorded that which strengthens -and enriches. Herein have we all of -life’s philosophy, brought to us with -mental conviction, with emotional -delighting, and spiritual moving. We -get glimpses of what may be called the -Trinity of Man. There is no side of -us which does not respond. Let all -this triune service of the Lyceum be -clean and high; let not the desire for -financial gain hush one worthy voice, -or turn aside from the straight path -a single lofty purpose, and the Lyceum -shall be maintained so long as time -endures, because it shall be of the -blessed things which are not born to -die. Lecturers and entertainers may -come and go as individual factors of<span class="pageno" id="Page_236">236</span> -lyceum work, but the Lyceum as an -idea, a force, an inspiration, shall go -on forever.</p> - -<p class="c016">The traveler looking upon Niagara -sees the onward rush and surge of -countless drops of water. They sweep -by and pass on, and return not again. -Still other countless millions of drops -follow them, and forever follow, and -so in spite of separateness, there is -perpetuity and permanence. Niagara -is immortal. The teachers, heroes, -apostles, prophets, singers and entertainers, -come and go, and pass out -to the great sea beyond, but others -come with word and song and smile, -and forever shall they come, and so -as with Niagara, there is perpetuity -and permanence. The Lyceum Platform -is immortal.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_236.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">WARD BAKER.<br />“Music is God’s voice heard in a language -without words.”<br />Among the strong popular companies which -will visit the South next season, is the Boynton -Concert Company, and one of the leading -performers of this Company is Ward Baker. -Mr. Baker is one of the few musicians who -play to the soul and the heart, as well as to -the technical ear.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<h3 class="c022">Echoes from the Field.</h3> - -<p class="c016">Frederick Warde opens his Southern -tour May first.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id004"> -<img src="images/i_229.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Alton Pachard, the popular chalk -talker, is entertaining Southern audiences -with his unique and excellent -program.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id004"> -<img src="images/i_229.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c016">“Standard attractions,” is the decree -the committees are pronouncing, -and “the survival of the fittest” will -be the result.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id004"> -<img src="images/i_229.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c016">Ida Benfey is adding to her laurels -in the South. She recently gave -George Eliot’s beautiful story of “The -Mill on the Floss” before an audience -of nearly four thousand people, in -Nashville, as one of the numbers of -the Lyceum Course.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id004"> -<img src="images/i_229.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -</div> - -<p class="c016">W. G. Escott, the popular secretary -of the Hillsboro, Texas, Y. M. C. A., -writes the following report of the recent -state convention held at Hillsboro:</p> - -<p class="c016">The Twenty-second Annual State -Convention of the Texas Young Men’s -Christian Association was held in -Hillsboro, Texas, March 18-21. The -Hillsboro Association made preparation -for three hundred delegates but -only about two hundred were in attendance. -It was said by all to be -one of the best conventions in every -respect that has been held in years in -Texas. The prominent speakers of -the convention were Dr. Ira Landrith, -of Nashville; Rev. Dr. Carroll, of Dallas, -Texas; Dr. T. S. Clyce, president -Austin College, Sherman, Texas; Judge -John C. Townes, of Texas State University, -and Dr. S. P. Brooks, president -Baylor University, Waco, Texas. -The program was very strong in every -particular. The delegates all expressed -themselves as being royally -entertained by the citizens of Hillsboro. -The only thing that could have -added to the pleasure of the gathering -would have been better weather.</p> - -<p class="c016">The Texas Lyceum Association met -during the convention and met the -different Bureaus represented and considered -their talent. The following<span class="pageno" id="Page_237">237</span> -were represented: New Dixie Bureau, -Midland Bureau, Slayton Bureau, and -The Rice Bureau. After considering -all the talent offered, the decision was -in favor of the Rice Bureau. The -Associations of the state have dealt -with the Rice Bureau for several years -and their attractions have been first-class -and according to representation -and the service so satisfactory that -the members felt that there could be -nothing gained by making a change, -so the Association business will be -with The Rice Bureau again the coming -season. The new officers of the -T. L. A. are Samuel Warr, Cleburne, -President; J. L. Hunter, Waco, -Secretary and Treasurer.</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_237.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">GEO. C. MILN,<br />Of International Fame.<br />It is a matter of much interest both North -and South that Geo. C. Miln, the great orator-actor, -after many years of absence from -America, will make a tour of the United -States next season, presenting his great -lecture, “The Story of a Strolling Player.” -Mr. Miln has played the plays of Shakespeare -in almost every civilized country under the -sun. He will be remembered by Americans -as the brilliant orator who succeeded Robert -Collyer in the pulpit of Unity Church, -Chicago. His oration on the death of Garfield -is considered one of the modern classics.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<h3 class="c022">A Great Lecturer.</h3> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c011"> - <div>By Opie Read.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="c016">I wonder whether many of the -people of Nashville remember a newspaper -printed in that city in 1876? -To the few it was known as the <i>Evening -Mail</i>. To the many it was not -known at all. We had not advocated -municipal ownership, we who conducted -the enterprise, but the sheriff -somehow took it into his head that we -did; and as he could not turn the -property over to the city, he kept it -for the county. I don’t know what -was finally done with it. I suppose -it became but an echo of dust.</p> - -<p class="c016">The paper was “established” by a -number of printers and newspaper men -who had nothing else to do. As we -were to share alike in the profits we -went alike to the free lunch counter. -It was a pure democracy and the man -who owned fifteen shares of stock received -no more than the man who -owned one. The paper was edited -with longing and printed with hope. -We were all of us optimists. If a -cloud arose in our sky we looked upon -it as a balloon ascension. I remember -but one day of reproof and censure. -The foreman came into the “sanctum” -and said to the editor-in-chief: “There -is trouble in the composing room, sir.”</p> - -<p class="c016">The editor, an old gentleman who -loved to write and who vaguely believed -that eventually one of his editorials -might be read from beginning -to end, looked up and sighed.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Trouble?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Ah, and serious trouble, sir.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“What is it?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Why, Ewing says that he’s got -to eat.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Eat!” echoed the editor. “What -can he mean by such impudence? -Did you reason with him?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“I did, sir; I told him he ought to -be ashamed of himself.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“And was he?”</p> - -<p class="c016">“No, sir; he forthwith gave me an -example of insubordination. He accused -me of hiding a sandwich in my -desk.”</p> - -<p class="c016">The editor thought a long time. -He had written on the situation in -Europe and had given advice to England,<span class="pageno" id="Page_238">238</span> -France and Germany—he had -told the Powers what to do with Turkey, -but this sandwich required deeper -meditation. “How many shares of -stock does Ewing hold?” he inquired.</p> - -<p class="c016">“Ten, I believe, sir.”</p> - -<p class="c016">“Well, it seems to me that a man -holding so many shares ought to be -possessed of more dignity. Let him -transfer his stock to some one who -stands not high in his regard, and resign. -You may go. But, wait a -moment, foreman. If you should -happen to have a sandwich hidden in -your desk, don’t forget me. We have -always been good friends, you -know.”</p> - -<p class="c016">It was about this time that Major -DeMaine made his appearance in Nashville. -He came with a heavily-worded -recommendation from the Boston -School of Oratory. It was declared -that he was the greatest orator of the -day or night. He had talked in -Faneuil Hall. It appeared in the -paper Flanel Hall, but that made no -difference. He would have been the -greatest of all actors but that he was -religiously inclined and deplored the -thought of giving up his earnest life -to the trivial mimickry of the stage. -He was not well dressed but we ascribed -this lack of duds to his individuality. -But some of us questioned -his greatness until he came around to -the office and put into the <i>Mail</i> a full -page advertisement. Then we knew -that he was great. This full page was -an announcement together with the -press notices of his great lecture on -Humanity. Beecher said that it was -profound and in an autograph letter -Mark Twain swore that it was funnier -than Artemus Ward among the Mormons. -We were possessed of a small -job press, and on this machine the -tickets were printed. We were to receive -so much a hundred and we looked -forward to a time when we might eat, -sitting down. One man, a pampered -youth named Billings, said that he -must have a pair of shoes. At first we -took this for <i>badinage</i>, for one of this -fellow’s whimsical jokes, but soon we -discovered that he meant it. We -called a meeting of the faculty. The -editor sighed. For a man who possessed -all wisdom he was the most sighing -man I ever knew. With him a -sigh answered for declaration and for -epigram. He was never at a loss for -sigh. So he sighed and asked Billings -if he had well considered the situation. -Billings answered that he thought -he had.</p> - -<p class="c016">“And you must have shoes, you -Beau Brummel! Just at this time of -dawning prosperity you must come -forward to swamp our hope with needless -extravagance. Transfer your -stock, Billings, and resign.”</p> - -<p class="c016">The lecture was to be given in a -building which stood somewhere in -Summer Street. We were to sell the -tickets to our friends and were to share -in the profits. And with what will we -went forth! A stranger might have -thought that the city had been invaded -by a gang of hold-up men. -Well, the night came. We were -present, eighteen of us. The editor -and the business manager were absent, -having been invited to attend a luncheon -given by a politician. But -eighteen of us were there to hear that -great out-rush of the human mind. -It may have been that the learning -was too deep for us, that the humor -was too skilfully hidden. There was -a large audience and at first there was -much applause, but it dropped off -along about the second round. At the -close, however, there came something -to arouse our interest. Upon the table -the lecturer emptied about a bushel -of cubes wrapped in paper. “Each -one of these cubes contains a piece of -soap,” said he. “It is the finest that -has ever been made. And this is the -offer that I shall make to you: I shall -sell these cubes at twenty-five cents -each, and in at least half of the papers -is contained a yearly subscription to -the <i>Evening Mail</i>, a paper which Mr. -Watterson declares is the freest and -best-written journal in America. He -himself is thinking of taking the editorship -of it on the first day of next -July. Let us open a few of these -papers. Ah, we here have a subscription, -here is another—another—why, -there are no end of them. I -will now pass out among you.”</p> - -<p class="c016">They bought his soap. He was<span class="pageno" id="Page_239">239</span> -giving our paper a boost and none save -a great man could do that. Surely, -the day of our prosperity was about -to dawn. “I will be around early in -the morning to settle for the advertisement, -the tickets and the many -subscriptions,” he said to one of us. -“And now don’t think me presumptuous -in what I said. Watterson has -his eye on this paper.”</p> - -<p class="c016">He did not come around the next -day. We called on the business manager -and he said that no arrangements -for subscriptions had been made with -him. We spoke to the editor and he -sighed. Then, and for days afterward, -there came broken streams of people -with orders for yearly subscriptions. -It was difficult to explain. The most of -our stockholders had been present and -had heard the promises made by Major -DeMaine. So we dozed off into the -bed prepared by the sheriff.</p> - -<p class="c016">The last time I saw the editor he -took my hand with a sigh and said: -“It was a great pity that I went to -that political luncheon. Ah, politics, -ruination of mighty empires!”</p> - -<p class="c016">Years afterward, in company with -Col. Zeb. Ward, I was going through -the Arkansas penitentiary. Near the -wall I observed an oldish man washing -a buggy. He had a familiar look, in -spite of his stripes, and I spoke to -Colonel Ward concerning him. “He -is known as Commodore Sassafrac,” -said the Colonel. “He got up a great -land scheme down in the bottoms—told -the negroes that he had the management -of the great Mexican war -land claim. Seventy million acres -were set aside for the colored citizens, -and all they had to do was to show an -order from the Commodore, which he -gave for five dollars apiece.”</p> - -<p class="c016">I went up to him and spoke. He -looked at me. I reminded him of the -<i>Nashville Evening Mail</i>. “Ah,” said -he, “I am pleased to meet anyone -from the glowing past. Back upon -that time I look with fondness. Your -great journal made life worth living.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_239a.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">DAVID BISPHAM,<br />One of the great stars of Grand Opera, who -devotes a few weeks of his time each season -to lyceum work. The fact that an artist of -Bispham’s standing can be brought to the -platform, is one of the strong evidences of -its phenomenal development.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_239b.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">DR. THOMAS E. GREEN.<br />Dr. Thomas E. Green, whose lecture, -“The Key to the Twentieth Century,” has -been so widely and favorably commented -upon by the Press of the Country within -the last year, will add a few Southern cities -to his platform itinerary, the coming season.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div><span class="pageno" id="Page_240">240</span></div> - -<div class="figcenter id001"> -<img src="images/i_240.jpg" alt="" class="ig001" /> -<div class="ic002"> -<p class="c016">MISS CLYDA B. REEVES,<br />of Whitewright, Texas,<br />one of the brightest -and most promising aspirants for platform honors, among Southern young women.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="pbb"> - <hr class="pb c009" /> -</div> -<div class="tnotes"> - -<div class="section ph2"> - -<div class="nf-center-c0"> -<div class="nf-center c008"> - <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - - <ol class="ol_1 c011"> - <li>Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. - </li> - <li>Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed. - </li> - </ol> - -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOB TAYLOR'S MAGAZINE, VOL. I, NO. 2, MAY 1905 ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. 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