The age-herald. [volume], December 02, 1900, SECTION 2, Page 12, Image 12

About The age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1897-1902

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The Age-Herald
K. W. UABHrTT.Editor
KOSS V. SMITH.lto*.
Daily and Sunday Age-Herald.$S.OO
Daily and Sunday, per month.
Sunday Age-Herald, alone, per annum. 2.W>
Weekly Age-Herald, per annum.
All subscriptions payable in advance.
H. D. Parrish is the only authorized
traveling representative of The Age-Herald
in its circulating department.
"TtemTttanSs can ^je^made^by^e^cpivss,
post otfice money order or drafts at current
rate of exchange. Address,
THE AGE-HB&AL.D,
Birmingham, Ala.
HIE ONLY DAILY NEWSPAPER IN ALABAMA
Three Southern Centers.
Th^ editor of the New York Commercial
has been traveling over the southern coun
try, and he has come to the conclusion
that, outside of New Orleans, which must
always remain a great port at the mouth
of the mighty Mississippi, there a.re three,
towns which promise to become large and
permanent centers of trade, industries and
population, and these three are Blrming
m, Memphis and Houston
The eourtry is now old enough to enable
one to see what its larger cities are to be.
The list is probably complete today, be
cause every portion ot tne country uas
Ixcen explored and settled, and any addition
t© the list would now be difficult anfl per
haps undesirable. The resources and pos
sibilities of every section and every state
have had their effect, and the towns and
their demands are known and determined.
Houston is to bo a large and permanent
town, because it is to have deep water,
end It is to be the port and commercial cen
ter of tho empire of Texas. The misfortunes
of Galveston have made this fact plainer,
and there are of course abundant resources
iu Texas upon which to build a large town.
Memphis’ position is also secure. It shares
with St. Houis and New Orleans the trade
of the world’s richest valley. It has the
last railroad bridge that spans the river,
thus giving It more railroads than it can
readily count; and at present it is a won
derful center of pine and hardwood indus
tries. These industries will be supplanted
by others, and the central city of the great
central valley wdll prove enduring.
Birmingham is scarcely of age, but It grew
rapidly as mine after min-e was opened, and
furnace after furnace rose in the air. When
slack water navigation is provided the year
retrod in the Warrior, no one can put a
limit upon the growth of the American Bir
mingham. Its coal and its iron and steel
are nearest the sea, and a Ibarge cost of
about 37» cents a ton will give this district
the world as a market, and fill Jones valley
with people of high earning power.
It is an even race between Industrial Bir
minghanb railroad Memphis and commer
cial Houston; but all three will endure and
bv come, together wdth New Orleans, the
ciiief towns of the south.
Shelby’s Hour of Victory.
The Memphians exalt themselves anew,
ami the Age-Herald does not desire to les
sen their legitimate pride or joy. The
swamps of their county of Shelby have
yielded up a goodly number of people, and
the score of leading counties stands as
lollow's:
Shelby (Memphis) .153,557
Jefferson (BirraingUam) .140,430
Davidson (Nashville) .122,815
Fulton '(Atlanta) . 117,363
TTie rest of the counties* in the cotton
eiates are not within the distance post, and
aieed not therefore be mentioned.
But let not the Memphians not over jub
ilate themselves for the facts they present
should teach them that a day is fast com
ing wl^en they will have to play second
liddle. These are the cold facts. Shelby
County grew' in the decade just ended to
•the extent of 40.S17 people; Jefferson Coun
ty added in that decade 51,919 people to
its population. Shelby’s rate of growth was
86 3 per cent.; Jefferson’s 58.6 per cent.
Let us see what this means, assuming
rtl .it the hardwood Shelby can maintain
fits rate of growth ten years longer, which
4.- doubtful, and that the metallic Jefferson
can maintain Its rate of grow'th, which is
aiut at all doubtful, for Jefferson is grow
ing faster today than it ever did in its
entire history. Now', get your slate and
fx ncil and soe what ascertained percent
ages mean at the end of another decade.
Shelby will then have 203,581 population;
Sit fferson will then have 222,706. Instead of
i
ibiding in "a coal chute or a scrap heap,"
■the Age-Herald propose^ to sit down and
calmly watch busy trunk-sewered Jeffer
son outgrow Shelby with the steadiness and
certainty of an avalanche. It may be done
In smoke, amid blazing furnaces and
grimy coal pits, but it will be done, and at
the end of the decade the Commercial-Ap
peal man will be chanting the song of the
disconsolate Memphians in a very low and
Bore key.
Popular Rule Wins Out.
(; The principle of open action by the many
Instead of secret action by the few finds
Bn excellent and admirable application in
Ithe resolutions of the city Democrat execu
tive committee, providing for primaries in
[which candidates for all elective offices will
£>9 named. It further provides that an ap
pointive officer shall also be named by the
iPemocrOits in the same primaries. This is
an extension of the principle that cannot
jbe too highly commended. It is in prin
ciple just such an extension as is seen in
j;everal states when United States Senators
(pre selected by popular vote. We cannot
liarrjr the principle of direct popular action
Joo far, for al lhistory and experience in
(this country goes to show that selections
by the many are better than selections by
Ithe few. Judges by popular vote are con
fessedly better than selections by a Legis
lature, and so it Is in the case of United
States Senators.
The responsibility for the selection of a ,
chief of police, who is himself responsible
for law' and order, rests exactly where it
should—on the people. Whoever they se
lect jshould be appointed, even if he be the
worst man in the community, for popular
rule is the underlying principle of this gov
ernment. But it behooves every good citl
aen to exefci.se this new responsibility with
due care and thoughtfulness. Popular sov
ereignty Is not exactly on trial, for popular
sovereignty is above trial in this country,
but if a wise choice be not made at the
coming primary' there will ont be lacking
those w'ho will sayr that the people are not
fit for self government— that tho politicians
should hereafter govern and manipulate
such offices. Take good care that such sel
fish croakers have no opportunity to spend
their breath over the action of the Decem
ber primary'.
Governor Samtord in Office.
The health of Governor Samford will (
doubtless be promoted by the fact that no
friction or complications are to arise in
Montgomery because of his serious illness.
Peace is to reign there and a legislature ,
in full harmony w'ith the new administra
tion wil help on the cause of good govern
ment. At some time, perhaps, it will be
come known how much -the people are in
debted to the Legislature, but at present it
is best to let by-gones be by-gones, for all j
elements of discord have disappeared from
the scene, and the people are in the sad
dle.
For the sake of freeing Governor Samford
from care and anxiety in his brave battle
against disease, it is to be hoped the Leg
islature will soon take Us customary re
cess. President of the Senate Jelks is ait
hand, it is true, but all things considered
it is best to give Governor Samford all
possible freedom from official anxiety. He
needs all his energies at present towards
the recovery of his strength.
The State is to be congratulated upon the
transfer of executive power under pecu
liarly complicated circumstances—circum
stances that were not thoughtfully consid
ered by the Constitution makers of 1876;
but all’s well that ends well; we need not
further discus? an omission that promises
to be cury* before another emergency of
a like nature can arise. This emergency is
an additional reason for jhe speedy hold
ing of a constitutional convention.
Jay Gould had sized up Daughter Anna
pretty well when he made his will. She
must be content with income, and let the
principle stand.
There is no need now of getting ready to
welcome Vhe twentieth century, for Em
peror BUI did that a year ago, and he never
took it back.
Mr. Zimmerman has been heard to say
that he considers the Duke of Manchester’s
articles as first-rate, when he should have
said able.
The Chinese light at least up to their pay,
which is 2H cents a day. It is sometimes
forgotten, and t'hen the Chinese forget to
fight.
It has been ascertained that 173 American
heiresses, worth $206,203,000, have married
titles, and most of them wish they hadn't.
A street car horse w'ent through the New
York horse show' as a thoroughbred, but
no last year’s gown stood the ordeal.
The five editors in the Florida Legislature
are expected to see that each statutory
story is told In the first paragraph.
It seems that Mr, Lease keeps a drug
store, and in Kansas this is considered a
good ground for a divorce.
The Kansas City Star chronicles the re
tirement of -the Kansas City mosquito for
t'he season.
Congress meets tomorrow, and the
tToulbles of the country will then begin to
thicken.
The French offer Mr. Kruger dead loads
of smypathy, but not an ounce of inter
vention.
Dowie’s laeemakers did not pass through
Mansfield, Ohio, in their journey to Earthly
Zion.
Admirers of General Cronje are buying
him a sword, when he really needs an over
coat.
The message is expected to satisfy all
elements of the party, including the trusts.
Oom Paul is trying to explain that he de
sires something besides shouting.
Bernhardt and Coquelin have broken the
nose of the Vanderbilt baby.
Dr. Pearsons continues to endow colleges
and to improve in health.
Senator Allen of Nebraska says Mr. Bryan
will be nominated in 1904.
Death seems to camp on the trail of even
spectators of football.
The men who saw Napoleon are beginning
to cash in their Checks.
- «
The lat© Senator Davis had just entered
upon his third term.
Jlr. Phillips lias secured a winter’s sup
ply of corn.
Eugene Zimmerman is now csflled the
dowager duke.
Even the Bible is silent as to the ages of
women.
SURPRISING FIGURES.
From the Boston Herald.
The official report that 904 postmasters
died and 8000 resigned last year seems to
be aA variance with the somewhat popular
saying as to the adheiveness of office hold- |
ers. I
NED ERACE SEES AND
HEARS IN NEW YORK
I attended my first New York Horse
Show last week. These shows occur dace
a year at Madison Square Garden, lasting
one week. It is the great annual oppor
tunity for exhibition of wealthy and fash
ionable people and fancy fashionable
horses.
The one appears in gay plumage, so to
speak — the other in fancy trappings.
■Wealthy women spend five hundred dollars
for conspicuous boxes in whiclr~*tp sit to
display dresses and jewels costing many
thousands. Between these boxes and the
show ring is a planked promenade about
twenty feet wide, around which those who
attend stroll to look upon those fashion
ables displaying themselves in the boxes
and occasionally to look upon the fancy
horses cavorting about In the shdto ring.
Of course, one sees good horsesv\ind fine
dresses, but beauty is sorely lacking among
the gaudily-dressed.
For some reason not explained the beauty
and wealth of the country is not thorough
ly combined, but the world seems to ac
“cept the old adage that fine feathers make
fine birds, and the world looks with admi
ration or else with curiosity upon the tine
feathers, and pays fancy prices for the
privilege.
However, at the Horse Show it is not all
fine dressing. One sees all manner of peo
ple in all sorts of costumes. Men go in full
dress with white ties and white gloves, and
men go in the costumes of business and the
race track. You see all sorts of things and
everybody.
Of course, you see good horses—the best
in the land—coach horses, racers, jumpers,
fancy trotters and everything bearing the
proud title of horse. It is a show worth
seeing.
Birmingham was well represented. Among
the attendants were Mr. and Mrs. Walker
Percy, Mr. and Mrs. Henry Badham, Mr.
and Mrs. Rufus Rlmdes, Mr. and Mrs. Allan
Haskell, Mr. and Mrs. Frank Grider and
many others.
Speaking of New York, all the newspaper
owners of the country met there last week.
As a rule they^re a prosperous set, though
few of tliem admit it. Several, however,
have incomes bordering on a million dol
lars annually from their newspapers. The
Washington Evening Star, which is classed
among Southern newspapers, does not miss
the million dollar mark far in its annual
net income.
Perhaps the most prosperous newspaper
in the Middle South is the Atlanta Consti
tution, which is now making a net annual
profit of one hundred thousand dollars.
The Memphis Commercial Appeal earns
something like $60,000 a year. For afternoon
papers the Nashville Banner shows pros
perity to the extent of about $40,000 annual
net carings, and the Atlanta Journal does
not drop fa* behind in the prosperity class.
* * *
“If the farmers and country merchants
in the south are able to hold back their cot
ton and not rush it all to market in the
next two or three weeks, I believe they
will get from 11 to 12 cents for it. The cot
ton producers'have the market in tneir own
tKUtJs. It is with them what they shall get I
for their cotton.”
So spoke one of the wealthiest mongers
of the New York Cotton Exchange to me
on Friday.
He added that the spinners of this coun
try and Europe had a short supply on
hand; either the crop was short or it was
being held back. If the farmers continued
to hold back the price would go up a cent
or more a pound. Otherwise, if all the cot
ton already ginned and packed was dumped
ooi the market within the next two weeks,
then the price would go down. He, how
ever, expects to see 12-cent cotton next
spring, if not earlier.
It was clearly manifest to me from talks
with a dozen prominent cotton men that the
farmers of the south have it in their power
to get a big price for their unmarketed
crop, and 1 hope they will do it.
* * »
The eye of industrial investors in New
York is upon the Birmingham district.
Everybody asks questions about it, and
many know much about it. Though denials
have been made, it is thoroughly evident
that both the Carnegie interests in the iron
and steel world and the American Steel and
Wire people—better known as the John W.
Gates interests—have loving eyes gazing
Birming'hamward, and I should not be sur
prised to hear of some big purchases being
made public in a few weeks. At least sucji .
is the opinion of
GERM OF ROYALIST PARTY.
From the Louisville Courier-Journal.
There is no room to doubt that royalty
and nobility are looking up. We are to
have a royalists deputy in Congress from
Hawaii. He can hardly form a party by
himself, or even a group, but he will be
able to do service as a nest egg. His heart
will go ouit to the Sultan of Sulu, with his
harem and his slaves, and he may stretch
his arms towards Sulu, either east or west,
in etfectionaite yearning . We have got at
least the germ of a royalist party.
MAY GIVE TROUBLE TO TEDDY.
From the Indlanaapolis Sentinel.
Senator Hoar is evidently on the trail cuf
Teddy, for at the distribution of prizes at
Harvard last week he told the students
that their education was not intended to
lit them "to hunt the grizzly bear." Then*
is in this a suggestion of what may be
expected when the Senate is in session.
REFLECTIONS OF A BACHELOR.
From the New York Press.
Nothing makes a man reel so well as a
woman's joke.
A man laughs bocaqpr he is amused, but
a woman laughs because she has hysterics.
-
Every woman who cries too much tries
to get out of It by claiming she is "so nerv
ous."
Probably Noah hadn't had his wife in
the ark live minutes before she had all the
parlor furniture changed aiound.
A man is successful in society to the ex
tent to which he forgets his clothes; a ;
woman to the extent to wheh she doesn’t. 1
It is a mistake for a man to make h.s *
wife so happy that as soon as she gets
married she quits worrying about die? £cod
looks.
The average woman would a lot rather
have her husband lose a thousand dollar* ,
in his business than to have a ^looking
glass fall off the wall.
It is probably tfce same instinct which
makes a young woman like to trap girls
Into getting married as it is which makes
her want to save souls at a revival.
THE MURMUR OF THE WORLD.
Dear friend, far off, my last desire.
So far, so near in woe and weal;
O loved the most, when most I feel
There is a lower and a higher;
Known and unknown; human, divine;
Sweet human hand and lips and eye;
Dear heavenly friend that canst not die.
Mine, mine for ever, ever mine; t
StTSfflge friend, past, present, and to be;
Love deeplier, darklier understood;
Behold I dream a dream of good,
And mingle all the world with thee.
My beloved, we cannot hold it true with
him Who in days of eld, with jingle of cap
and bell, did laughingly ask of the Idle
winds If friendship was but a name, a
charm that lulled to sleep, a shade that
followed W’ealth or fame and left the
wrt tch to weep.
We of these days of home-made joy, the
you and me of the w'orld of sunlight and
laughter^-we know many things which
were not jr present help to the gentle Oli
ver in his pursuit of the little pleasures of
life. Marry souls amongst us have
stood sorely in need of the truer friendship;
have been in din* distress, in danger of ma
terial disaster, possibly in the devil’s pres
ence of disgrace, and at the moment when
unmerciful misfortune pressed heaviest,
there loomed out of the blackness the white
angel of fidelity, the radiant face of friend
ship. Those of us who have lived through
such moments have knowledge that the
most precious possession of this life is
friendship that is real, is true. Is self^ac
riflolng, self-denying; that will nerve our
hearts when danger threatens that Is dark
er than death, the danger of dishonor In
the eyes of our fellowmen, disrepute in the
estimate of good women.
Maybe but few of us have known the ter
rible danger of dishonor, apparent or real;
but He who taught us prayer bade us to
pray that we be led not into temptation.
Along life’s way, winding in and winding
out, through the flowery and the thorny
fields, by babbling brook and brimming
river, over the hills and*across the dales,
upon il*e one side there walks our guard
ian angels and temptation walks upon the
other; and here and there as we go tempta
tion ties the knotted grass of grief to trip
us. The best of us sometimes stumble, and
whether we fall lowr or stagger to recover,
it is then that we need men and women
whom we love to love as friends.
It comes to all of us, In every relation
and condition of life, my beloved, that we
need friends: not merely those who wish
us well; not such alone as give us glad
greeting when the sun is brightly shining;
not such as will not speak evil or unkind
ness concerning us; not the fair-weather
associates who will drfyk our wine and
break our bread. But well wishers who will
do good for us in our name; speak good ^
words concerning us whenever chance pre
sents the moment, or, chance failing, who
will not only in our behoof, in our cause,
in our service, grasp the skirts of happy
circumstance, but who will create the cir
cumstance for the good word or the good
deed! |
* * *
That phrase most fraught with evil of all
the phrases the devil has coined for the
human tongue is. He is no better than ho
ought to be, or its kindred speech, uttered
to imperil a woman’s honor.
That sort of wickedness assumes a thou - <
•and forms of words, glances, unsyllabled
mutterings, and it is a crime against sa
cred law which is endless in its cursing.
It has broken millions of honest hearts,
and caused seas of tears to flow and drown
joys the angels cherished.
It is as base as a woman's betrayal and
as accursed as the most baleful device the
spirit of evil ever set to ensnare innocence j
and paint it with tbeared mark of sfliame. j
When such baseness is first given speech 1
it may be stayed if it fall upon the hearing
of one friendly soul, who shall stand before
the tradueer and cry, Thou Uest! Every
slanderer is a coward, and every black lie
that lingers on his "tips proclaims him base.
When he speaks, then it is that the angels
cry for one strong friend of the traduced
one to tell the slanderer he lies.
• * *
All God, for a man with heart, head, hand,
Like the simple great ones gone
For ever and ever by.
One still strong man In a blatant lai^d,
Whatever they call him, what care I,
Aristocrat, democrat, autocrat—one
Who can rule and dare not lie.
* * *
There are i^n and women who go about
constantly seeking every possible hint or
suggestion of any possible wrong, short
coming, or innocent indiscretion respecting
any reputable man or woman, and what
ever thes* scavengers of society find they
magnify a tKousand fold and repeat as
truth to all listeners. Failing to find any
hint of wrong regarding anybody, the scav
engers create base hints or slanders out of
the muck-heaps of their own foul imagina
tion, and go forth sowing poison against
innocence.
These scavengers are easily identified;
they g«*4*Jx>ut constantly and everywhere
self-placarded slanderers, for if you will
but mark them, they speak well of no one,
except at rare intervals and with manifest
reluctance. Name in their presence any
person, and forthwith they say something
in detriment, and whkt they say will range
from the Hush upon a maiden’s cheek to
the foulest scandal. Some words they are
certain to speak in terms derogatory, pleas
ing to themselves and annoying to you.
They speak som-: thing of evil respecting
everyone, and b^zenly deride you if you
praise others and*show’ any measure of un
selfishness. The basis of all their villainy
is self, and no selfish man is to be trusted.
For common protection against all these
selfish scavengers of society at large every
reputable woman and man, and even all
children, need the watchful care and cham
pionship of real friends, faithful souls who
will defy slander and exalt virtue.
“Be thou as chaste as ice, as pbre as
snow, thou shaft not escape calumny.”
The calumniators we have with us alway:
they are the scavengers of society.
o * *
“The friends thou hast, and their adoption
tried.
Grapple them to thy soul with l\ooks of
steel.^
We all of us have our friends, my be
loved. Let us cherish them as the prime
possessions of life, which makes this life
really worth the living. Without them wo
should merely cumber the earth, powerless
to serve others and unhappy in serving
ourselves. *
^ And, mark you, fellow-lovers of the earth,
It we have not the power and the spirit to
serve others, there cannot be In this state
■'fcf existence any happiness for ourselves!
Though each of us a kingdom possessed,
did we not possess the rich heritage of
Jkindly impulse, of love of mankind for ths
sake of mankind, we should be poorer than
the most ragged, unkempt *^Pnd starving
beggar who begs scanty alms by the way
side.
It Is God's truth, and it rules all tiTe chil
dren of earth, even the fool who saitli in
his heart there is no God of truth: Whos#
llveth for himself liveth with a f(^ol and
shall die in loneliness, neglect, and misery,
with no lender^iand to soften his pillow,
and no eye to grow- dim because of his
passing; all his days upon the earth shall bo
unhonored and unhappy, and for him the
vast afterwhile shall hold no comforting
protnise! The wretch concentred alljn self,
"doubly dying shall go down to the vile
dust from whence he sprung."
• * •
Every honest love betwixt man and wo
man as lovers in the tenderer form is born
of honest friendship, and if friendship per
ish then shall love give place to the blacK
night of grief. Many a soul has been lost
because lovers wrere not friends; many a
time* the holiest of all human vows have
been violated because wife and husband
were not friends; many a time monuments
of woe have arisen from friendship's place
of»deaih.
So let us be friends, my beloved; lot
sweethearts be friends; let wedded ones b*
friends; let friends be friends! Call the roll
of your friends this morning, and at the
recollectior of each cherished name swear
allegiance anew, and pledge yourselves
to more constant watchfulness and a fuller
measure of love. Go to them with your
new-found happiness, or Your new sorrow;
your new hopes, or *your wider purposes;
go tell them what you will, and hear what
they will to impart unto your understand
ing. Fidelity brings fidelity, trust brings
trust.
You never had a joy which you did not
have impulse to impart to another. The
youth, his heart bursting with the tumultu
ous joy of maiden's acknowledgement, »s
staring mad in his ecstacy until he gives
tongue to his emotions. lie whispers the
dear name to his sister> tells it to his mate,
and rushing far out into the fields he shouts
it to the unanswering wind that is power
less to cool his hot heart; a*nd the madness
of youth and the insanity of love would
slay him if he could not speak.
So with the maiden. Her pure young
heart would burst in the torturing and ex- *
quisite pain of her superlative bliss; her
pink lips would grow white, and the flush
would fly her cheeks, and her dreamful
form would quiver in nameless unrest If
she ha<L»Jio one to go to that she might
weep her love-turbulent soul to repose!
It is comradeship, and the spirit of com
radeship governs all humanity. Call
It association, call it love, call it friendship,
call it what you may, and it remains the
controlling force of mankind; ana we must
have our friends, and w'e must love them,
and to them be true; and in all the rela
tions of our lives we 'are impelled 't(T~keep
our hearts open to them alway; must ever
keep our ears lovingly attuned to hear them
calling, calling in friendship, my beloved,
calling, calling! THE MURMURER.
SKETCHES FROM EVERYDAY LIFE.
S^IE was one of the dearest old la
dies in the world. Everybody
loved her; it was involuntary,
spontaneous—you couldn’t help it.
At sight of her white and venerable head,
'her kind blue eyes, her gentle manner, you
wanted to take her In your arms and caress
her with an old-fashioned hug. During her
seventy years she had never said an unkind
word; I dcrabt Tf she had ever had an un
kind thought, and her heart was as pure
and loving, as fresh and sympathetic, at
seventy as at sixteen. Age had not wither
ed that golden heart, and on her golden
wedding day it rang ns pure and true as
ever. The years had furrowed her cheeks,
and flier hands now trembled while per
forming their deeds of kindness; but some
lingering beauty of youth and the ever
growing beauty of age made you forget any
loss of youthful graces. Her little Greek
nose was a joy forever. Its lines were still
straight and unwavering—a true index of
her honest and tender nature.
'Ae had been raised a Quaker. Nature
had made him a gentleman. His birth and
{tabling made him a fitting mate for her.
Kindness, dignity and strength of soul
mingled in his character, making an har
monious structure. I was but a child when
I first knew them. My heart instantly flow
ed out to her, but while I felt his integrity
and worth, I was somewhat abashed in his
presence. He seldom spoke—a result of his
Quaker habits—and his silence seemed om
inous to me, a child. It yas not until I saw
him again, years alter, that I read between
his words and saw the noble heart under
neath his silence. Such silence; how elo
quent it can be! What worlds of care and
suffering, of agony and heartache, ITe elo
quently hushed in the unspoken word!
Fifty years ago, long before I was born,
he had seen, loved at sight. -iCoood and won
her, who was to be his joy and comfort
through life. She was then twenty, and I
kiv>w she was beautiful. How could she he
otherwise, with that little Greek nose and
tbo -e sweet blue eyes, which are still beau
Nful today? He was madly in love. His
Quaker heart, violating the training of his
y'outh, beat.and throbbed tumultuously. lie
•married her, marrying “out of meeting,”
as she was not a Quaker, and as a result
he was turned out of his church. Some
years after, the Quaker elders, seeing this
lovely heart he had won, said to 'him:
“William, if thou wilt say that thou art
sorry, we will take thee back.” His only
answer was, “I am not sorry yet," and I
venture to say that never during the fifty
years of his married life did he have a re
gret for marrying out of meeting; that he
never said, even to himself, “I am sorry.”
Ho is now on old man. His gait is feeble
and slow. His life’s work Is over. He has
been unsuccessful in the race for worldly’
wealth, though if good deeds and a gener
ous heart are things of value, he Is not so
very poof.
He .never dreamed that ho «f4uld live ao
long. Thirty year® ago he had reported at
y
THE GOLDEN WEDDING.
i the enlisting office at Macon for duty in
j the army, but the doctors declined to pass
him. They told him he had heart disease,
and could not live a month in a campaign.
All during the war, with t'he South’s stress
and need for soldiers, they Still refused
him. He returned home to die. He told
her what the doctors said, but though un
nerved by fear and anxiety, she determined
that he should not die; that if love and
good care could avail, he should live out
his three score years and ten, or more.
And so ha has.
How many of us will do likewise? How
many survive the trials of human life for
so long a time? Which of us will walk in
the sunshine on our golden wedding day,
as I saw’ them walking, hand in hand, up
and down the garden walk, lovers still?
All the trials of their fifty years of wedded
life have not chilled their hearts. The loss
of their little fortune, the death of their
only child, the Client passing away, one by
one, of the friends of their youth; their
circle of contact with the outside world
narrowing day by day—none of these mis
fortunes have withered their hearts or
dampened the firo of their love.
I see them pause, as they reach the end
of the walk, to turn back. She gazes at
him with a look of endless devotion. “Dar
ling, are you tired?” she says. “Shall we
go In now?” He presses her little hand
that lies in his. “No,” he says, with his
Quaker-like brevity. He looks tenderly at
her, and they 'resume their walk towards
the house, a modest little cottage hidden
from t’he street by thick evergreens. There
is no pompous and liveried footman at the
door to receive the cards of a host of fash
ionable callers; ivo express wagons rattle
up, bringing presents from wealthy rela
tives. Seldom the front door bell rings. A
few kindly neighbors call to offer their con
gratulations, but they are all poor like
themselves, and presents are few. How
ever, they do not care. They continue their
walk, 'hand In hand, while the sun, as if to
make up fo-r the lack of worldly presents,
pours down upon them a million golden
rays from heaven, filling their hearts with
life and warmth.
* * *
He had seen better days, but was now
one of the unfortunate. His clothes were
shabby, and he had a run-down appearance
that was a constant bar to his getting em
ployment from anyone w*ho did not know
him; but in spite of poverty and hard luck,
he was always cheerful, always bouyant—
a heritage from his Irish ancestry. He had
(been a soldier during the war, and a good
one. He always stood erect In his shabby
clothes, and whenever *he would come into
my office, as he frequently did, to give me
a little “blab and blarney,” as he called It,
and incidentally make a “touch” for a
small loan, the usual preliminary was &
military salute. I had known him tor years
—he once did me a favor, and whenever I
could, I always stood a small “touch.”
He came into my office one day,
saying *hc was going to Louisville to at
*‘7
tend the Confederate reunion; he knew he
had friends who would help him, and could
I make a small loan, etc. I was particular
ly hard up at the time; besides, I did not
think it a good thing for him to get in debt
for money to spend -on a reunion; so for
the first time I did not stand a “touch.” In
this practical age it seemed the height of
folly for him to get in debt, with its con
sequent self-denial and penury, simply to
go to a Confederaate reunion. It would
have been much better for him to have
bought some new clothes, or something to
eat, with the money. Some such idea I
hinted to him, but to no effect, for when
the veterans left on the 29th I saw him In
the ranks standing as straight as an ar
row—that is, a veteran arrow.
I stopped and watched the old fellows
drill on the street in their old gray uni
forms. There were all kinds and conditions
of men in the ranks^ but there was a com
radeship between them that is seldom seen
or realized today—a bond that only mutual
suffering, age and sympathy can create.
Many limbs were shaky, some were miss
ing, but every face was happy. Every one
was a man. As I watched, I understood
his craze to go. I understood that there is
something higher and (better in life than
common sense or common prudence. I un
derstood how he would sell the food from
Siis table, the clothes from his back, all for
the price of a ticket. Here in the ranks,
he, tho unfortunate, the improvident, the
buff and sport of fortune, was a man, and,
like the rest, stood for ail that is great and
glorious and abiding in mankind.
At the woord of command the gray ranks
moved off, the band played “The Girl I
Heft Behind Me,” and I swallowed a lump
in my t'hroat, stepped up to him and slipped
a “loan” into his hand. F. H. M.
“DOWN TO SLEEP.”
By Helen Hunt Jackson.
November woods are bare and still;
November days are clear and bright;
Each noon burns up the morning chill;
The morning’s snow is gone by night.
Each day my steps grow slow, grow light,'-’
As through the woods I reverent creep,
Watching all things lie “down to sleep.”
»
I never knew before what beds.
Fragrant to smell and soft to touch,
The fores-t sifts and shapes and spreads;
I never knew before how much
Of human sound there Is In such
Low tones as through the forest sweep,
When all wild things lie “down to sleep."
I
Each day I find new coverlids
Tacked In, and more sweet eyes shut tight;
Sometimes the viewless mother bids
Her ferns kneel down full In my sight;
I hear their chorus of “good nights;"
And half I smile, and half I weep,
listening while they lie "down to sleep.”
November woods are bare and still;
November days are bright and good;
Life's noon burns up life's morning chill;
Life's night rests feet which long hav«
stood;
Some warm soft bed? in field or wood,
The mother will not fail to keep,
Where we can "lay us down to sleep."