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The Demson Review
E. F. TUCKER, Publisher.
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 6, 1904.
iter make us glad.
$
J'I don't care none
Whut the weather ia,
It's good hot sun,
a
Why, let 'er whiz!
'il-
,.,-1 like ter see
The jlmsons no J,
''An' ter hear the bee
i, In the glory pod
'Ith his buzz, buzz, buzz,
An' his yeller feet,
'-Like he useter was
y:1 In my boyhood sweet!
If it's clouds—all right
%.'*1 I'll jest take a few—
-y Till the day's half night,
An' they's draps o' dew
... On the burdocks leaves.
An' the lily's lip
Jest hangs an' grieves,
Like the drip, drip, drip,
Of a weepy night
When no moon don't shine
Mark clouds "all right!"
Gimme some in mine!
Gimme some in mine!
Glad follers pain
Like the warm sunshine
Drinks up the rain!
I may sorrow some
Like a rain-wet sky—
Glad I wa'n't born dumb
So I couldn't cry!
Glad my heart gits weak
Till she overflows,
An' my both eyes leak.
An' I blow my nose! 0
If Jes all Joy,
Was the on'y thins
The world 'ud cloy
Till I couldn't siryj!
I wouldn't know it.
Not joy—not me!
If 'twould come an' sit
On my lap, b'gee,
If they wa'n't no sad
We need its rack
Fer to make U3 glad
When the glad comes back!
M. Lewis, in Houston Post.
SPANISH PEGGY
A STORY OF TOUNO ILLINOIS
By Mary Hartwell Catherwood
Copyright, 1899, by Herbert 8. Stone &
Co
CHAPTER IV.—CONTINUED.
Every Sunday Mahala Cameron's
father preached in the schoolhouse, and
nearly all the people, whether they ac
cepted the_ Cumberland Presbyterian
creed or not, went to the service. Wild
plum groves made bouquets of snow
on the prairies. The woods were full
of flowers, having such fragrance as
breaks only from old loam. All the
^rees, from the rich green of the pe
can to the delicate and slowly deepen
ing maple gave out their foliage to
the sun. The Judas tree burst out like
flame in the forest.
Happy boys were seen coming home
?rom the, river of evenings with strings
of croppies, bass, and pike. Half-yearly
muster day came, when the local mi
litia stepped out in awkward sqauds
and practiced such military tactics as
the leader knew to the squeak of a
We and the thump of a drum. Anty
wine put himself among the boys. He
Mked life and movement. But Shick
ehack stood and looked gloomily on.
He knew that his own people, the Sacs,
were being crowded in their reserva
tion, and this play of war might some
time become reality. Whisky was plen
tiful of muster days. Antywine no
ticed that Lincoln did not touch it.
Having considered the height and
strength of Sieur Abe, he also spat out
of his mouth a taste of fiery stuff
pushed between his lips by a Grove
boy, and decided that he would fight
rather than be forced to drink
Slicky Green and Ann Rutledge's
brother were home, working in their
fathers' fields. Young Yates was seen
at intervals during the summer. The
boys and girls of New Salem found a
•world of material for their own happi
ness. There were quiltings, where the
older Women labored in the afternoon
and young men and women came to
evening games.
Peggy Shickshack stood outside of
tuch festivities, and so did Antywine,
because the singular mother of their
household had ao fellowship with the
mother of any other household. For
all the villagers began to look kindly
at the unfolding womanliness of the
lame Spaniard, the blond head of An
tywine, and the good old Indian who
loved white men.
But the festival that Peggy liked best
and was not left out of, was blackber
rying. The girls rose at dawn and put
on their worst clothes, meeting by ap
pointment at the tavern with baskets
on their arms. They did not speak
loud. The dust in the road took the
prints of their feet like ashes. The
whole sweet-smelling world was
drenched in dew, and as they brushed
down the ravine across the woods be
yond, they were baptized by every
bush. Then their tongues were
loosened, and they sang and told
stories. Sometimes they pretended to
see wolves sneaking to cover, but this
merely for the pleasure of frightening
themselves. It was the loveJiest pilgri
mage ever invented. There was peril
in it too, for in the wooded field of
wild brambles the thick-mottled rattle
snake, or objects resembling him,
caused many a start and shriek..
Once little Jane Rutledge got a fat
grasshopper down her back, and yelled
for deliverance from—"a snake! a
snake!"
"Oh, run home, Jane! Run home,
Quick!" cried Mahala Cameron.
But Ann tore the child's clothing
open and freed the grasshopper, cling
ing with all his feet to the tender white
back and they all laughed at Mahala,
who would have sent her three miles
Jpr heip.
•^ot'tnes the girls swam grass to
on-a t*
8
ea oX dew, Peggy
WhiCu
dividing her way with her crutch. The
rising sun showed glittering in th«
brambles, blackberries and luscious
dewberries half as long as one's thumb,
melting ripe to keep that very morn
ing's appointment. To go blackberry
ing late in the day was not to go black
berrying at all, but to a hot and weary
search of rifled fields.
When the party trailed homeward
with heaped baskets they could see
along the ridge of the Sangamon
tents and camps of farmers who had
come long distances to mill. Each man
was obliged to wait his turn .to have
his grain ground. It was like a fair.
Quoit pitching, wrestling matches,
races and trading filled up the idle time.
Insensibly the season changed. Su
mac leaves began to burn around scar
let fruit veiled in white, the oaks were
faintly tinted, and the first September
days had come.
Antywine's reading lessons at the
stone ended, for Lincoln was taking
up surveying and going out to distant
parts of the country, and Antywine was
to go with him as his chain-bearer.
"I put the book in my bundle," said
the Canadian while he and Peggy were
bidding each other farewell at the
stone. "Sieur Abe will help me."
Peggy's hand and feet became cold.
She felt as if autumn were driving the
the blood back upon her heart
"Viane Rutledge told at school the
other day that you are the best-looking
young man in New Salem."
Antywine expanded with satisfac
tion. He always carried his chin up,
so that people called him high
headed.
"I am tall."
"Don't you think Viane Rutledge is
a pretty girl, Antywine?"
"Yes."
"She's the prettiest girl that goes to
school, isn't she?"
"Yes."
Tears sprang into Peggy's eyes she
winked them back, ashamed of being
grieved.
"But Viane Rutledge is not a good
reader," she honestly declared.
"Me, I am not a good reader, either,"
observed Antywine.
"You don't want to put yourself
alongside of Viane Rutledge as a poor
reader," spoke Peggy, sharply—"do
you?"
"I don't know," returned Antywine,
with a teasing winsomeness specially
his own. He smiled on the landscape
and lifted his chin higher, a look of
concern replacing the smile.
"Why you cry, sweetheart?"
"My foot's tired," said Peggy, drying
her tears.
"You been trying to walk without
the crutch?"
"A little."
"Then I carry you up to the house."
"I don't want you to. If Mahala
Cameron's brother was here he could
help you make a saddle and carry me.
He takes hold of hands with one of
the Clary boys, and they lift me up
on the saddle and run with me when
we play Indian."
"He have no business!" exclaimed
Antywine, full of indignation. "They
will fall and hurt you!"
"O, no, they won't He is a nice boy,
and has such red cheeks."
"Me, if I have those red cheeks I
strip the skin off my face!" said Anty
wine, disgusted. "You like those red
cheeks, eh?"
"Well, I think they are about as
pretty as Viane Rutledge."
"Viane Rutledge," spoke Antywine,
sincerely, "she not have that charm
like you, and those manners."
"Do you think I am learning man
ners?"
"You have improve every day."
"Antywine, I've got the best apple
in my pocket! Don't you want a bite
of it?''
"Did those Cameron boy give you
that apple?"
"No."
"You have it, then, from that Grove
feller, who is behaved so bad the
master whip him?"
"No. Mahala gave it to me."
"Then I will take some bite."
Peggy drew forth the apple and they
ate it together, feeling that their differ
ences were reconciled. It was their
parting meal, for food eaten at Sally's
board had no such taste as this.
Shickshack said nothing about Anty
wine's first serious undertaking of
civilized work. The boy until that
time had been nothing but a hunter.
Perhaps the Indian pondered on the
white man's influence. He set himself
to bring in plenty of venison to dry
for winter, and an abundance of buck
skin to tan. His cabin was as good as
any in New Salem.
Shickshack held land in his reserva
tion, as all his tribe held it, without
cultivating or improving an acre except
patches of maize and pumpkins. He
could not understand the white man's
greed for real estate when the prairies
were so free to all. The product of his
labor consisted ot peltries. These he
exchanged for the necessaries of simple
living.
Shickshack was not unmindful of
the change in his adopted child. He
used to watch her silently. When she
brought him the first pair of stockings
made by her hand he sat and smoothed
them across his buckskin knee. They
were useless to him as a covering, for
he could not enjoy the freedom of his
ankles in anything but hunter's neips.
Before the weather grew cold he gave
Peggy a roll of heavy dark red linsey
cloth instead of the usual tanned deer
skins. Ann Rutledge helped her cut
and make the dress. He had the satis
faction of seeing her warmly clad, in
short-wvdsted gown with bag sleeves
and a thick cape and hood lined with
dull yellow flannel which Ann had
saved among her stores.
As autumn days drew close to the
margin of winter, the big boys, relieved
of labor that they owed to their parents
every working season until tlie were
21 years old, came to Minter Grayham's
school. Though willing to malre them
selves useful carrying in logs for the
fireplace, they were full of frolic as
colts. They stirred up the school until
Minter ftrayJiam is despair made a
new law and announced that he would I
listen to no more complaints of wad
throwing, flstcuffing, and fighting, un
less the complainant could show that
blood had been drawn. Then the boys
were gloriously happy. The sallow
young schoolmaster, writing copies at
his desk, would suddenly hear through
the drone of study:
"Master, Viane Rutledge looked at
me and drew blood!"
"Master, Nancy Green's eyes are
drawing blood on me this minute!"
In November there was a haze over
the landscape like bloom on grapes.
Indian summer lingered. Settlers had
not then learned the Mississippi val
ley's sudden and bitter changes of cli
mate.
Lincoln and Antywine were still ab
sent early in December, when Shick
shack waited one evening behind
Minter Grayham's schoolhouse for
Peggy to come out A jet of boys and
girls seemed to spout forth, racing
down to Rock Creek. They could
almost smell their supper johnny cakes
across the ravine. Peggy was hopping
briskly in the joyful midst of her
schoolmates, when she saw her foster
father beckoning her at the foot
of the bluff. She followed him.
Shickshack led her where there was
no path through ascending woods,
parting naked bushes for her, and help
ing her over fallen logs which had be
come almost a powder of flakes covered
with moss.
"Where are we going?" she inquired
more than once.
But Shickshack made no reply until
he had put a loop of. deerskin around
him over his blanket, and lifted Peggy
on his back in this portable hammock.
SHICKSHACK CRAWLED IN WITH
HIS KNIFE UNSHEATHED.
She was learning to use her lame leg
with a stoical determination which the
New Salem doctor encouraged. Though
never without her crutch, she oftener
carried than leaned on it. Shickshack
was evidently undertaking a journey,
and she looked anxiously through the
woods as some flakes of snow melted
on her face, and up at the void peopled
as by winged white insects.
"Father," said Peggy in the Sac
language, "where aje you taking me?"
"To the young chief Yates," he
answered in English, trudging across
the ridge, sure-footed and muscular.
"But he lives far away and I won't
go! What will Antywine and Mr. Lin
coln say when they come home?"
"Antywine and the chief Abe on the
survey trail. They not here to stop
Pedro Lorimer. He get you this time."
"Has he come back again?"
Shickshack grunted. "At the Grove
—two, four days. He tell the young
.braves Black Hawk is on the war path.
Drive out old Indian! Burn his wig
wam! Old Indian help Black Hawk.
Me not need totem signs to find out
what he .want. He say old Indian have
no business to keep white girl."
"But, father, you cannot carry me
so far!" Peggy strongly revolted. She
wept, shivering against his back. He
descended toward a darkened plain
without heeding her arguments against
his course, except to assure her he in
tended to hire a horse at the first
cabin.
The sloughs were frozen, and frost
blackened grass crisped under his feet
Nowhere could any farmhouse light
be seen, and the gentle flicker-like
insect wings had become a driving
storm of snow. Shickshack found the
road stretching southwest toward Jack
sonville, and plodded steadily along.
Jogging through an immensity of night
and cold and drifting whiteness, Peggy
ceased to beg that he would let her
walk, and lapsed into such drowsiness
that he was obliged to shake her when
he set her down. By this time the chill
windrows were nearly to his knees.
Unsheltered by his body, she felt the
dry spume spinning in her face.
"Me have to put you in the log to
night," said Shickshack. "Snow too
bad to go farther."
Every new Salemite had heard of or
seen the huge hollow log strangely
left upon the prairie beside that road.
Once Slicky Green and another boy,
belated on a bitter night while search
ing for lost cattle, had driven wild hogs
out of it, and saved their own lives
in its roomy hollow. It loomed a white
ridge, higher than Peggy's head, its
black opening already banked with
drift. Shickshack crawled in with his
knife unsheathed. A yelping, snarling
struggle was muflled by the log, until
something dark leaped past Peggy, and
ran across the snow.
"Wolf," observed the Sac. "Him not
like to leave him good bed."
Reluctantly, in spite of the cold,
Peggy crawled past him into the deep
shelter, dragging her crutch. Her hand
touched something furry, and green
eyes shot flame at her. Shickshack
hauled a cub from its cushion of rotten
wood and threw it out after its mother.
Peggy was so drowsy that she re
membered Bottling further of tfee
night, except some noises at the opes
end of the log.
When she awoke it was light enough
to see overhead the ridgfid vault of
her wooden cavern. The snow cast
in a pallid illumination. She sat op
and called Shickshack. He remained
in a rigid attitude, with his back to
hier, and his legs extending out under
a white lapful. His arm was hard as
marble in her hand when she touched
him, and he did not turn his head.
"Father!" she screamed. "Father!"
CHAPTER V.
The ofd Sac, who had guarded her
roof tree, whether cabin or wigwazi.
every night of her remembrance, sat
upright, holding his knife, on which
frozen blood was crystallized. Two or
three dead wolves lay outside the log
on the snow. But not one of them
was frozen stiffer than the Indian,
who, after his own fashion, had given
life itself for the safety of his adopted
child.
Peggy would not believe he was
dead. She clung to his old shoulders,
and scrcamed to rouse him. The Sac,
who loved white men, and had never
failed to answer the appeal of his white
child, silently blocked the entrance of
the log. His eyebrows were hoar frost,
and the dark ruddiness of his face and
neck seemed crusted with rough silver.
Peggy's wild crying might have re
sounded long in the hollow log, and
brought no person to help her. For
all around was the vast prairie stretch
ing from horizon to horizon, a glar«
of whiteness unpierced by the smoke of
a single lire. But two figures toiled
toward New Salem through the early
cold, wading with effort, and finally
making for the hummock in which they
recognized the submerged log. Lincoln
and his chain-bearer encountered
the frozen Indian and the crying girl
as they stooped to enter and warm
themselves.
High as drifts were piled in New
Salem streets, for this was the winter
known long afterward as "the winter
of the deep, snow," people gathered
hastily through the unabated stora
when word went around that Shick
shack had been brought in frozen tc
death. Lincoln and Antywine, in silent
agreement, stopped the ox sled they
had borrowed, at the door of Rutledge'a
tavern. Neither said, "Let us take
him to his own cabin." In death, at
least, he should escape from the en
vironment which Sally made, and be
publicly honored.
Antywine went directly to carry the
news to the widow, and Sally heard it,
making a clicking sound of disapproval
with her tongue.
She knocked the ashes out of hft
cob pipe, partly on the hearth an'l
partly in the dinner pot, which hung
from the crane.
"Now don't that beat ye! Gone and
froze hisself to death the first big snow
and New Salem seven miles from a
buryin' ground! He always was tha
most ill-convenient old In'jan! Took
him to the tavern, did ye?"
"Yes," replied Antywine, without
apology.
"Well, keep him there. I'll come to
the funeral. Funerals is no novelty
to me, buryin' men as often as I have."
Neighbors talked in whispers around
the dignified figure stretched on a
white-covered board under a canopy
of sheets. But. Antywine and Lincoln
had themselves washed it, and dressed
it in the Sac's best buckskins. They
found girded around the waist a heavy
belt of rattlesnake skin.
[To Be Continued.l
A WESLEY INCIDENT.
The First Methodist Lay Prcachei
W'ai Followed in Year
by Twenty More.
The societies rtffet on Sundays, but
never at the hour of church service,
and, when neither Wesley nor any
other clergyman was present, spent
the hour in prayer and religious con
versation or exhortation. From ex
hortation before the society to formal
preaching before it was only a step
but to Wesleiy it seemed a very long
step, writes C. T. Winchester in
"Wesley's days of triumph" in Cen
tury.
While in Bristol he learned, on«
day in 1739, that one of his converts,
Thomas Maxfield, had been preaching
before the Foundery society. He hur
ried up to London to stop it. But hia
mother—who since the death of her
husband had been living in a room of
the Foundery building—met him'with
a protest: "John, take care what you
do with reference to that young man,
for he is as surely called to preach as
yeu are." Admonished by this coun
sel from one whose caution on all
church Iy matters he knew to be quite
equal to his own, Wesley reluctantly
consented to hear Maxfield preachy
After listening, he exclaimed: "It is
the Lord's doing let him do an
seemeth to him good." Convinced in
spite of deep-rooted disinclination,
he sanctioned the first Methodist lay
preacher. Within a year there were
twenty.
Hft Could Be Trusted.
Rev. Richard Cecil, who lived to be
a greatly useful minister, was born In
London in 1748. When a boy he waa
strong-willed, but brave, straightfor
ward and thoroughly to be trusted,
hating all that was mean, shuffling or
deceitful. One day his father, who
had business in the city, took little
Dick with him and left him in the door
of the East India house, telling him to
wait there till he should finish hia
business and return to him. Taken up
with other matters, his father forgot
all about him and left the house by an
other door. Richard, in the evening,
was missed by his mother. His father,
now remembering where they had
parted, said: "Depend upon it, he is
still waiting for me where I left him."
Immediately returning to the spot,
there, to be sure, he found poor Dick
faithfully waiting, as he had been
for hours, and as he had been ordered
to dot—Washington Star.
XJi
jlln"''' '.it—'
Politics and Crime •.
1 By MATT W. PINKERTON,
The Noted Detective.
OLITICAL corruption and dishonesty in public!
places are responsible for a very large proportion
of the crime and criminals with which our coun
try is cursed. He who resorts to knavery to secure
an office or public position of any kind, or, having
secured it, uses it for purposes of fraud and theft,
is far more culpable than the unlettered, barely
civilized gamin, who picks a pocket or snatches a
loaf to satisfy the cravings of hunger. The tran
sition from stuffing a ballot-box and falsifying an
election return to picking a pocket and sandbagging a pedestrian is by
no means a difficult one.
By this is not meant merely that political crimes and robbery of the
people are widespread offenses exercised in a wholesale way Kvery
man, every child, even, in the land well understands that such is the
case. Regarded in this light alone the evil is a monstrous one, crying
aloud for immediate reform. But this is only the beginning of the trou
ble and the least harmful of all the baneful results of the nefarious sys
tem that underlies our entire political structure. There is no rational
man in the world but exerts some influence upon certain of his species,
particularly his friends and associates.
The corrupt politician has had the advantage of an education, has
mEngled with respectable people, understands the law and fully appre
ciates his,' relation to society. More than that, as a rule he is able to
obtain a livelihood in an honest way and cannot even urge the poor ex
cuse of hunger. But these are patent facts and their discussion is unnec
essary. It is the baneful results of such political robbery to which atten
tion is especially directed.
The aldermen in our large cities quite generally purchase, and that
at a very large cost, their political power. In doing this they corrupt a
large percentage of their constituents, start thousands on a course of
crime. Doubtless our modern corrupt "statesmen" employ those already
corrupted, but large numbers join in the criminal classes via the political
route. As a rule mankind is not enamored of labor most people are
averse to hard work. Thus, the tools of aspiring politicians, being able
to live at times by knavery, especially abjure all forms of regular em
ployment and attempt to live by their wits, that is, by dishonest methods.
In this undertaking they are ably seconded by the corrupt politicians
they sometimes serve, who often secure them immunity from arrest, their
discharge by tlie magistrate or, failing these forms of relief, their pardon
from the bridewell. In large cities like New York and Chicago hun
dreds, probably thousands, of criminals owe their liberty to the strength
of their political "pull." Thus in a direct way a considerable portion
of our city criminals owe their existence to political corruption.
Bad as it is, this result is trifling when compared with the secondary
effects of political crimes and malfeasance in office. Local politics con
stitute a theme of never-ending discussion to poor and comparatively
ignorant people, who know every politician by reputation at least, and
who constantly speculate as to the amount of their dishonest gains while
occupying official positions. And here is where evil influence asserts
itself. If an alderman, assessor, county agent for the poor, or any other
official, coins money at the expense of the people—often at the expense
of the starving, freezing poor—is it any wonder that his example is imi
tated by those really in want? The speaker has conversed with many
criminals who have referred to the dishonesty of public officers as an
excuse for their own offenses. The extent of this evil influence and the
number of criminals chargeable to it are not fully appreciated by the
public at large, or a general revolt against the professional politician and
his outrageous methods would long ago have been organized.
As long as the great majority of our public servants are thieves and
blackguards, so long will efforts to suppress crime and criminals prove
dismal failures,
Getting Rid of Surplus Wealth
By ANDREW CARNEGIE.
It is not to the millions, or by the millions, that
the greatest advances are won. It is to the individual
that we owe the Divine impulse. .-v
The distribution of wealth is the greatest problem
of the age. I care not how great an invidualist a
man may be, he must realize that the problem must
first find solution. No man has better reason than
myself to know how great are the inequalities in the
distribution of wealth.
The wrorld will make no progress, except under
that law of Christ, that a man may reap as he sows.
It is written that man must work out his own destiny under his own vine
and fig-tree.
No revolution ever did much or any good in this world no true evo
lution ever failed to do anything but goodi I would not wish to be
understood as putting down life as a mere pursuit of money. I think
that a man who has entered any profession is working for the advance
ment of the race. The successful captain of industry is not of that low
type who seeks the hoarding of dollars as his life work. The money
which reaches beyond his wants he seeks to find use for in the bettering
of others.
We hear a great deal about foreign missions. Peter Cooper found
ed a home mission. He first pointed the way which some day all mil
lionaires will follow. He proclaimed that principle that surplus wealth
is a sacred trust which those who have must exercise in his lifetime for
the good o.f the community from whence it came.
Liability u4ct Is Needed
By JUDGE WHEELER,
Of the Connecticut Circuit Court.
(XISTING condition? in the employment of labor ren
der ridiculous the reasoning that an employe in fact con
tracts with reference to the peril of the business. And
public interests would be best conserved by holding
the employer, with his higher intelligence, and surer
means of information, and his power of selecting and
discharging subordinates, responsible.
In a period of ten years probably more men have
been injured, disab/vd, and killed in this country from neglect of co
employes than were disabled, injured and killed in the civil war. The
need of havir# some effective legislative remedy for this injustice, con
tinuing and increasing, is so paramount that it seems doubly unfortunat«*
that those who are the m|bst grievous sufferers do not conserve their
stiength to accomplish an end which must appeal to the sense of justice
and humanity of disinterested persors

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