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THE STARKVILLE NEWS
VOLUME 11. FOR ALL OF ME. The king can keep his crown,. The plutocrat his gold. For all of me: I heave no sigh to own. No fist I shape to hold Their jewelry. Let them, by their pale llghf. Dwell sober-minded, just— That pleases me: I grudge no vested right. No unearned pelf I lust. Enviously. T claim the widest range For peace, for thought, for breath; For mine and me: I force no undue change; But live secure ’twixt death And liberty. The men of discontent. Who patch the world outside. Have naught In me: I fain would sew the.rent, Wthin, that it might bide Eternally. The king can keep his crown, The plutocrat his gold. For all of me; For when mankind has grown Into the Master’s mold— They’ll cease to be. —Joseph Fulford Folsom, in N. T. In dependent. ; • — * • I The Rector’s j Enlightenment i • By FANNY FERRY GAY. • ©•••••••••••••*>••••••••••• REV. MR. TORRANCE, rector of Hopevvorth church, had a choice collection of ideas. None of them orig inated with him. for ideas were born with the world and are simply passed on from age to age, sometimes lost to view for a millennium or two, and then brought to light by some vain soul who imagines he has begotten anew thought, a fresh dream. But the rector had one idea which the sons of men have never lost sight of, it has never had a rest, and it is very old because it has had no oppor tunity to renew i*s youth. The rector valued it the more highly because of its apparent age, for lie believed he saw therein the approval of the cen turies. Old! Why it was old when his great-grandfather was a bald-headed infant —it was old when the world was young! But the poor old idea had spent its energy. It was, in its present condi tion decrepit, infirm, very weak on its legs, fit only for a sanitarium, where it could recuperate and reclothe itself - in the strength and garments of youth. This, however. Rev. Mr. Torrance would not allow. He had no compassion for its age—but the time came for its deliv erance. The rector had a very clear concep tion of his favorite but aged idea, name ly: The Man was the sovereign ruler of the world and the fullness thereof, building the cities, waging the wars, governing the nations, writing the books, conquering the beasts of the field and making even the wilderness to blossom under his hand —in a word, Man was the embodiment of Power; while Woman, albeit a somewhat nec essary appendage, was withal an in ferior being, intended by the Creator to submit in passive obedience to Man and do his will. When, therefore, the rector made up his mind to offer a proposal of mar riage to Miss Serena Baldwin, one of the worthy and devoted women of his parish, he never so much as dreamed of opposition or defeat. Neither did he consider it necessary to lead up to the point cautiously and with due mod eration. as many lovers do. It was in early summer, a June haze lay in pur ple sheen upon the hills, the air was velvet perfume. He was sitting in Miss Serena’s parlor, the picture of minis terial dignity, his hands resting on his gold-headed cane. They had been dis cussing the affairs of the church, when, suddenly, imperatively, but withal be nevolently, as if with pleasure at con ferring high honor, he said, in cul tured accents; “Miss I think you and I would better be married.” Now Miss Serena was possessed of ideas also. Some of them were lik4 his and some were not. She was a woman of great discernment—she could see things. For some time she had known that the rector was going to propose to her. In fact, she had known it before he did; and she also knew her own mind. She knew she loved him for his many excellent quali ties. she intended to marry him, but she was convinced that the old worn out idea which he cherished so fondly should have a good long rest. Accordingly when the Rev. The ophilus Torrance in such summary terms acquainted her with his pur pose she arose calmly, saying: “There might be a difference of opin ion on that subject! Come out into the garden, Mr. Torrance, and see my roses.” She led the way, ignoring what was so evidently in his mind, and talking on the merits of the various kinds of roses, until he,' in utter desperation, bade her good afternoon and went home. He shut himself into his study, a dazed and bewildered man. The old • idea came halting forth. What! had she refused him? Impossible! And yet, she had certainly not accepted his offer. Worse yet, she had ig nored the expression of his wishes. He would not submit to such treat ment, it was wholly out of God’s or der of things. It could not be—she would not —but there the poor old idea stopj>ed. It could go no further. Two or three days after, he called again on Miss Serena, She knew his errand before he uttered a word. Hardly was he seated before he be gan : “Mbs Serena,” he said slowly and impressively. “I think you fj iled to grasp the importance of my words the other day. I remarked that I thought you and I would better be married. Your treatment of the sub ject was frivolous” (reprovingly), “and I wish you to give it your most careful consideration. It is a very serious matter.” “And r.ever a word of love!” mur mured Miss Serena, under her breath. She gazed composedly out of the window. “Perhaps.” she said, “we do not look at this matter in the same light.” Then suddenly: “Why, the chickens are in the garden; 1 must go and drive them out!” and further discussion was ended for that day. Mr. Torrance again sought the privacy of his study in a perturbed state of mind. He had no intention of changing his purpose, he would marry her. But it was evident she needed rebuke, her duty should be made plain, he would compel her to yield at once, and cease this exasper ating delay. He forthwith prepared an elabor ate argument for her instruction. Indeed, it was a sermon, nothing more or less, with the different heads in due order. It was lengthy, re quiring nearly an hour to deliver, and Miss Serena sat quietly and heard it all with placid countenance. It was her duty to marry him as soon as possible, firstly, because mar riage was a beneficent institution, conducing to the welfare of both man and woman. Had not God said it was not good for man to be alone . Each needed the other. Secondly, marriage was an old in stitution, as old as life; and whatever had been must be. It was law God’s law. “Certainly!” said Miss Serena, sotto voce. Thirdly, woman was the weaker vessel, she was unfit to guide her own affairs —and required a husband for protection and support. Fourthly, the minister of the Gospel needed a wife to assist him in his church work and care for his household. It was her duty to the church as well as to himself to coin cide with his wishes. Lastly, it was the intention of the Creator that men and women should THE WOMAN PEDDLER. She Can Do Much Better Handling Household Article* Than Try ing to Soli Book*. “Any woman who can talk at all, said a" school-teacher who, according to the New York Times, had tried book canvassing and given it up in despair, “can interest a housekeeper in labor saving appliances. The woman who does her own housework will give at tention to anything that will save hex a pain in the back or aching arms. But she will not talk to men about such things. When 1 lost my place as teach er in a public school, I tried book ped dling. Oh, the women I called upon would invite me in and talk tomeread ily enough. That was the trouble. They would tell me their family his tory and their troubles, and then lead me to the door with the sorrowful as sertion that they never had any time to read, they were *o busy. So I gave up bpoks and took up little time and labor saving articles in the way of egg beaters, potato parers, can openers and cheap little articles such as wom en seldom see except at food shows. A stove lifter is a most salable article. 1 keep watch lor anything new in this STARKVILLE, MISS., FRIDAY, APRIL 3, 1903. marry. No one should resist the Di vine purpose, it was sacrilege. There was a silence as he ceased speaking. Miss Serena’s lips were so ber, but her eyes smiled, “I don’t believe,” she said, “that I am particularly interested in the in tentions of the Almighty.” Mr. Torrance picked up his hat quickly, in sudden anger. He would say no more. This woman was wholly undeserving the high estate he had de signed for her. He would find a nobler one, who would appreciate the great opportunity. “We will consider the subject end ed,” he said, sternly, and departed. Miss Serena sat for a long time med itating. “That old idea is working hard,” sho said, thoughtfully. “What if, afterall, it shouldn’t have a rest? Is it endowed with enough of the germ of truth to keep it alive, underneath all the en cumbrances of age?” and for the first time she looked anxious. During the next few weeks the rector allowed himself no time for reflection on the one painful subject. He wrote two sermons in a week instead of one, he made innumerable calls, lie went to the city, attended conventions and rested not. But the pace was too rapid. He was compelled to slow up and think. Slow ly he came to the astonishing conclu sion that no other woman would do. When he reviewed in his mind the other marriageable women in the parish and among his acquaintances he turned from the mere thought of them, sick at heart. He wanted them not, he wanted her! What was the reason he could neith er eat nor sleep, that time hung on his hands, that life was robbed of all in terest and why did the future stretch out before him a dreary waste of years? This mysterious drawing, this strange longing to go to Miss Serena once more and implore her to take pity on him and relieve his misery—was it not decreed? Gradually it daw n* and on him that this was love. He loved this woman, with her sweet, strong fa'e. her gentle but firm ways, her strength of mind and* intelligent will. 'Slowly another old idea came to abide with him and reveal to his mind the power of love, greater than force. His old worn-out favorite idea was sent on a long-needed vaca tion. One day he met Miss Serena just out side her garden gate. The crickets were chirping in the grass, the soft ness of the summer night was over all. “Good evening,” she said, pleasantly. He ignored her salutation. “Do you realize,” he asked, brokenly, “that yon are the unconscious cause of the niin of my happiness? That life is henceforth one unceasing pain? Why, even the consolations of the Gos pel avail me nothing! I love you, Serena!” She looked up quickly at his face, white and drawn, in the gathering shadow s of the night. “Theophilus,” she asked, with a twin kle of the eye, “did I ever say I wouldn’t marry you?” He started. Astonishment and slow ly-awakening hope were in his face. “Do you —do you intend to say —” he began. “Yes!” she replied, smiling. “I in tend to say. Come, dear, let’s go in out of the damp.” —Springfield (Mass.) Re publican. • direction and then go the rounds. I have several regular customers, who bring me a good commission on things that I buy for tHeir dining-room and kitchen.” * REFLECTS ON MR FROUDE. Letters Suppressed by Him Throw More Favorable Liaht on Car lyle’s Domestic Relations. The publication of the letters of Mrs. Jane Welch Carlyle to Thomas Carlyle was the occasion of an in teresting dinner the other night, says a London dispatch to the New York Tribune. John Lane entertained a small colony of literary men, and the effect of the production of the let ters suppressed by Fronde was in formally discussed. It is protih!<j that the memory of the Ch*;**a phi losopher which was left under a cloud by a partial and inconclusive revelation of his domestic relation*;, will be vindicated at the expense of Mr. Fronde rather than of Mr. Car 'y|e Cause of Feminine Irritation. If women are more irritable than men, as alleged, says the Chicago Tribune, the fact may be due to French heel. THE GUNNER’S HARDEST MARK A Kind of Woodcock Shooting; In the South That Pat* Hi* Skill to the Tet. Of all forms of American shotgun work probably the most difficult is woodcock shooting on the rear edge of a southern plantation near dark. In this sport pretty nearly everything is in favor of the bird and against the gunner—light, speed, distance and un expectedness. It is a sport peculiar to the far south and practiced only by those whose familiarity with the shot gun gives them confidence in it, says the New York Sun. Ttye woodcock is a night-feeder, speeding his day in deep thickets and morasses, where it is hard to find him and harder to hit him after he is found. At about sunset, however, he bestirs himself and starts for the open fields, eane-fields from which the stalks have been cut, cottonfields bare of everything except the small dark brown stems, cornfields and pastures. He wants only a soft soil in which he bores with his long bill for worms. To get out of the swamp, which is always heavily wooded with high trees, he ascends some 50 to 100 feet above the trees and then strikes a long slant for the open ground. He is fiying al ways at the top limit of his speed, for although he has only a mile or so to go he starts late and is in a hurry, fearing that some earlier bird will pre empt the best ground. The gunners stand on the rear edge of the field or pasture against which the forest breaks. They go there be cause if they went farther out they would get little or no shooting. Their only chance is to take the woodcocks as they leave the forest and drop down ward, In fact, many of the birds settle not a hundred yards from the woods, finding as good ground near by as far out. So, speeding, the woodcock flashes by like a dark meteor not bigger than an grange. He appears suddenly be tween the gunner and the sky and the next instant is out of sight. Every bird killed thus is shot when going from the marksman, because a man could not hit the bire.s at all if he faced the trees. The black shadow would interfere and the bird would be overhead and gone before a trigger could be pressed. The birds as they pass are general ly from GO to 75 feet in the air, darting onward with terrific rapidity, and when hit hard they will often fall a good 75 yards away. The woodcock when flushed in the daytime among trees and bushes is not a swift bird. He depends for safety upon the pro tection afforded by branches and the eccentricity of his flight. In the late afternoon pasture shoot ing the woodcock has all of his usual eccentricity of flight and three times his usual speed. The fact that he i=? going down adds to the difficulty. It is the shot which is afforded by a quail flushing from the top of a high tree — and all sportsmen know how difficult that is—with the difference that the man knows the point from which the quail will flush and there is a good light. There is but one way in which to kill the woodcock seeking the fields in the dusk, and that is to hold under him with quick powder by a good yard. Not only must the bird be seen above the barrels, bnti there must be three feet of space between the muzzle and his body. On the rear edges of many southern plantations at this time of year a gun ner may obtain 20 shots between sun set and dark, and if he gets a half dozen birds he will have no cause to complain. Many a fair marksman under these conditions will expend from ten to twenty-five shells and never touch a feather. A Business Asset. Mr. Lane was a small man and far from strong. He admired strength in others above almost any thing else, but he showed his admi ration as he showed all his feelings —in a cautious way. He was an expressman. Having called one day at a house for a heavy box of books, he was amazed to see the young athlete of the family, who was then enjoying a vacation from college, take up the box, after a pitying glance at him, and bear it Quti to the cart as if it had been a bag of feathers. “I wish I had his strength,” said the little expressman, with enthusi asm, to the young fellow’s mother. “I would give 50 cents, ma’am, for such strength as your son's, and *twould be well worth that to me in my business.” —Youth’s Companion. NUMBER 4. USE OF PHOTOGRAPHS. Frequently Employed to Advertise Articles of Merchandise With out Permission, “It would seem that if anything on earth belonged to a man it is his physiognomy, and the right to its re production by photographic processor otherwise,’’remarked a member of the District bar to a Washington Star man. “Yet the difficulty that some of our prominent statesmen and leading public characters have in the attempt to remove, by legal proceedings, their facial representations from advertise ments of brands of cigars and liquors, and on the part of several ladies to prevent flour dealers and other ven dors of merchandise from reproducing their pretty faces on the labels of goods would lead to a different con clusion, “It also appears odd that while the law jealously guards a person s good name, or the use of his or her name in any respect, and bestows damages and inflicts punishment upon the of fender, a photograph is seized upon by anybody and used without regard to the owner’s feelings or rights, un less it be copyrighted, and often the copyright is ruthlessly violated. “While there have been some deci sions, it is to be hoped that a fixed legal precedent may become firmly es tablished which w ill insure to the high est as well as the humblest citizen the right to place a'lcgal embargo upon the practice of the promiscuous use of his features by another, but it would appear that it is rather hard when one is obliged to go to the ex pensive process of the courts to en force a right which ought to be en forced by mere verbal or written pro test; and this right should be extend ed to the heirs of a deceased person. “The practice mainly arose from the free use of the photographs of ac tors and actresses. It is to the inter est of the members of the theatrical profession to keep their features be fore the public as much as possible, and they encourage the practice rath er than frown upon it. But to take the features of a beautiful society woman, or a lady in private life, and use them on a label of merchandise, even without her accompanying name, or the features of a deceased public man, is a personal insult and little short of a grievous outrage. “Manufacturers of all kinds of merchandise and articles, as is appar ent from bill posters and other placard advertisements, use, without compunction or consent, the features of men and women, and often their names, to bring goods to the attention of the public. The offensive side of taking a man’s face and using it, either alone or with the features of other men. smiling in appreciation of the flavor of a brand of cigars, wines or liquors, is so great that it need not be adverted to, while it must be a real cruelty to the family of a person de ceased to see the features Of their loved ones thus publicly displayed to the profit of strangers.” Requirements of a President. To tell a boy that he may be pres ident is to put the presidency above other earthly prizes attainable by our future men, and to imply that the route to the presidency is a peo ple’s free highway. There is, ia. truth, no royal road to the white house, nor special privilege to any person or class that may have a fancy for it. What the law' says as to the presidency is simplicity itself; merely that a president shall be a native-born citizen at least 35 years old, with a residence of not less than 14 years within the United States, and that he shall be elected by a ma jority of votes in the nation. There are millions of boys who in time will meet all these requirements but the last. The boys possess the wide open field, and how' 'Hde it is may be judged from the distance between Jefferson and Madison, born to wealth and high training, and Jack son and Lincoln, born to dire pov erty and cast upon the world to tram themselves.—Charles F. Benjamin, in St. Nicholas. The Sailor as a Valet. “Talk about your gentleman’s gen tleman, or trained valet,” said a man who has had ample experience in the expedients of bachelor living in New York, “a good capable sailor man, who has had a few years’ experience before the mast, is worth a dozen of them. I know of at least a dozen retired sailors in New' York w*ho are employed by unmarried men to look after "their clothes and keep their living rooms in order.”—N. Y. Times.