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Elk City mining news. (Elk City, Idaho) 1903-1913, February 20, 1904, Image 2

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WEALTH IS USELESS.
MILLIONAIRES OF ARIZONA WHO
LIVE IN SQUALOR.
Copper King Who Bleeps on n Blanket
on the Floor of His Cabin—Another
Millionairei Whose Chief Luxury Is
Plu a: Tobacco.
There are several rich men In Ari
zona, some of whom far exceed the
million mark, who live lives as plain
as the half-breed
Mexicans among
whom their lot Is
cast. One of these
Is James A. Robin
son, whose home is
In the little Mexi
can hamlet of Oro
Blanco, close upon
the boundary be
tween the United
States and Mexico,
and who Is worth
$1,800,000. his pos
sessions, .consisting In copper mines,
cattle aid lands.
Oro Blanco is about the last com
munity In the country where one
would look for the residence of a
millionaire. It is a mere huddle of
one-story frame and adobe structures
dignified by the name of houses. They
are built on the sunbaked earth and
there Is not a wooden floor in the
hamlet. Two little stores, each with
a saloon adjunct, and a blacksmith
shop, make up the business section
of the town. The sparse population
Is four-fifths Mexican, and the com
munity Is not at all American in any
of its ways. Yet Black Jim Robin
son, as he is known all over the re
gion because of his marked swarthi
ness, has made his home In Oro Blan
co for thirty years and probably will
never live anywhere else. He Is from
Poughkeepsie, N. Y., and was on hls
way with an ox-team wagon to the
Pacific coast by the Santa Fe trail
when the possibilities of making
money In cattle came to him.
with he abandoned the emigrant train
if
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1
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JAMES M. WATSON.
Forth
&
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sis
*
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f> r
m
*2
£
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$
HOME OF JAMES A. ROBINSON.
to California, and has been living in
Arizona ever since. He was blessed
with a wonderful constitution and
nerves of iron. He has been through
Indian campaigns that would have
killed most men, and has had fights
for hls life and property with Mexi
can vacqueros and with outlaws that
would make hair-raising narratives.
All the financial ups and downs of
frontier life have been his.
Chief Luxury I« Plug Tobacco.
For twenty years Robinson has been
having an average net annual Income
of $45,000, while he and hls family
have been living on less than $500 of
it each year. He has a Mexican wife,
whom he married thirty years ago.
There are four young men and five
girls in the family, but only three of
them remain at home,
have married into Mexican families
and gone out to live in shanties and
mudhouses among the cattle along the
border, just like the sons and daugh
ters of the poorest cowpunchers and
sheep herders In the region. The home
of this millionaire from New York
would be dear at $250. All the furni
ture and household effects lq It could
be rep aced for $300. The floors are of
hard-packed adobe, the windows and
doors are of the cheapest, crudest pat
tern, and a drop of paint was never
applied Inside or out. The old couple
dress in the same coarse, rude garb as
of old. The old man wears overalls
and a "hickory" shirt all the time, ex
cept occasionally when a buyer for a
Chicago or a Kansas City packing
house journeys from Nogales railroad
station, thirty miles across the hot,
dusty plain, to talk over a $30.000 or
$40,000 cattle transaction In the kitch
en of the old house. Then Mr. Robin
son may put on a threadbare and
faded coat that he bought twenty
years ago in Tucson. There Is not a
book In the house but a Cattleman's
Guide and a volume of recipes for cur
ing horse and cattle diseases. This
millionaire's family never takes a
newspaper, buys no furniture, never
tastes such things as ice cream, candy,
' fish or fancy groceries. The old man
saw a banana for the first time a year
ago, when he was In Nogales. His
only luxury Is plug tobacca
Sleep« on the Floor.
Another millionaire who lives In
what may be termed squalor Is John
M. Watson, of Globe, in Gila County.
He owns a half Interest in the Durham
mine along with a syndicate of New
Yorkers, and hls dividends from the
property come from the company's
office In New York every ninety days.
They vary from $17,000 to $80,000 four
All the others
times a yea?. Besides, he owns a
smaller mine In Yuma County, for
which he has at present a standing
offer of $200,000, which yields several
thousand dollars profit every month.
The rise of Watson to wealth was
as unusual as It was sudden. Five
years ago he would gladly have sold
all his mining Interests In Arizona for
a few thousand dollars and have for
m , - ever quit work. He
used to go about
Phoenix and Tuc
s o n Importuning
everyone who had
any Interest In
mining to give him
an offer for his
copper, and let him
have a little money
with which to take
care of his Invalid
wife and a crip
pled son. A little
later copper began to appreciate and
old developed copper mines began to
reopen all over the Territory. Pres
ently all the old copper mines were
booming, and with the price of copper
at 16, 17 and 18 cents a pound, there
was nothing more profitable In mining.
A New York syndicate gave Watson
$45,000 for a half Interest In his Dur
ham mine, which he would have sold
in 1S93 for $2,000, and then went
ahead with the development of the
property. At 47 he was poor, and at
50 he was easily worth $300,000. Such
are the marvelous transformations In
some men's fortunes In the mining re
gions the world over.
To see him one would never sus
pect that the Goddess Fortune had so
much as glanced at him. He rides
about Globe on a scraggy old bay
horse, with a bunch of greasy, tat
tered blankets for a saddle. A short,
black clay pipe Is generally between
his lips. He sleeps In a blanket on
his cabin floor. He never reads, never
goes anywhere except to a saloon.
He dresses like a ranch laborer, but
wears an elaborate Mexican sombrero
with a gold and silver threaded band
about It That Is the sole personal
Indication of his rise In the mining
world.

■¥
m
v
mi
if
vi V '
WILLIAM BOGGS.
Never Entered a Chnrch.
Still another man to whom wealth
has not brought corresponding com
forts Is William Soggs, a Texan and
a cattle king In Yavapai County. Hr
Is worth half a million. He cannot
read or write; Indeed, he cannot do
any sum In arithmetic that involves
more than plain addition or 'Subtrac
tion. His success Is an illustration
of what ceaseless devotion to one pur
pose may accomplish. There Is prob
ably no one who knows cattle rang
ing In Arizona better than Soggs. Hi
has a wonderful memory, an Iron
constitution, and quick comprehen
sion of business propositions In the
line of cattle growing and profitable
ranges. Since he became a cowboy
on the Texas Panhandle, when less
than 15 years old, he has given every
day of hls life to cattle raising, it
Is said he knows at sight more than
4,000 cattle brands, and there an
some he does not see once in five or
six years.
He was reared on the border of civ
lllzatlon. Hls mother was a Creek
squaw. He never had even one lesson
In school. Had he had a common
school education, the Arizona cattle
men say, he would have been the
greatest cattleman In the whole West.
He has a wife and five children. The
family live in a log cabin forty-five
miles east from Jerome, with no neigh
bors nearer than six miles. Every day
Is like every other in the Soggs home
The wife works like a poor settler's
wife, the boys are out on the range
with the cattle and the girls help at
limes at branding the cattle, and at
other times work about the home. Sun
days, holidays and all the work goes
on steadily.
Neither he nor any of his family
ever has seen a drama, ever heard a
concert or been In a church. Some
years ago the Soggs family went to a
circus in Prescott, and to this day the
events of that visit are related as en
thusiastically as If the family had
peered Into the open gates of heaven.
Ancient Proofreading.
The editions of books printed two
or three hundred years ago are almost
entirely free from typographical er
rors, which may be attributed to the
fact that early publishers were gener
ally eminent scholars, and themselves
gave much attention to the revision of
their proofs. After reading the proofs
they frequently turned them over to
other scholars with the request to re
vise and correct, and as the printer's
time was then deemed a matter of
small consequence, a perfection was
attained which is seldom equaled by
modern printers.
Why They Are Vegetarians.
Vegetarian—Don't you know that the
strangest animals are all vegetarians,
the elephant being the most powerful?
Carnivorous Friend—That's all right.
If they weren't so strong they never
would be able to stand a vegetable diet
_Boston Transcript.
It's awfully hard on some men's eyes
when they look for perfection In them
The hard-working clerk Is usually
worklng for a raise.
selves.
WAYS OF LONG AGO.
Last night I dreamed I was awake;
Then, waking up, I dreamed,
My mind just went without a break
To where the waters gleamed
And dimpled down beside the road.
saw the willows trail
Along the stream, just like I knowed.
I saw the teeter-tail.
And heard the bluejay call, and call,
And saw the eddies swing
In curves below the waterfall.
An' heard the ribins sing.
And I was just a boy, and walked
The ways o' long ago.
The catbird came again and mocked
Just like I used to know.
And in the orchard loaded down
The heavy branches swung,
And in its coat of sober brown
The thrush its matins sung.
And breezes moved the ripening grain
In billows to and fro,
And 1 was just a boy again
In ways of long ago.
O, welcome dreams that take us back
To childhood's happy days!
Along some well-remembered track
In pleasant woodland ways!
O, welcome song of orioles
And thrush's matins clear
That bring us back the orchard knolls
And days of yesteryear.
Till we can hear the lullabies
And feel the rhythmic swing
That used to lull our tired eyes
When mother used to sing.
—Houston Post.
v

* HIS SECOND WIFE Î
t
IT down, dear, and while I am
waiting for John, I will tell you
all about It. I know people won
and
lered when we were married,
said I was an old flame, and that it
was preposterous for old people like us
to marry. But, my child, I don't care.
Yes, you do seem like a child to me;
eighteen, did you say? And this Is
your engagement ring. Pretty, Isn't
it? How it brings back the old times
when I was just your age, and John
and I was courting."
There was a pause, and one small,
wrinkled hand was raised to brush
iway a tear. Then the sweet old voice
continued—•
"You see, John was what they call
i bound boy. He was Just eight years
old when he came to live with us;
ind he stayed until, well, until he
married her. You knew Eunice? She
was a handsome girl. If I do say it.
L^ar prettier than I. I never did count
much for good looks, but for all that
I took pretty well with the beaux.
But I didn't care a Jot for any one of
them but John. He was five years
older than I, and from the time I was
a mite of three, my constant compan
bn and protector. How he did stand
by me if there was any fracas at
school, as there always was more or
ess with part of us on one side, and
jart of us on the other. Well, matters
went along smooth enough until I was
nearly nineteen. Then the first and
hardest trial I ever had to contend
with, came like a thunder-bolt from
a clear sky.
"John and I became engaged on my
eighteenth birthday, and father and
mother were well pleased. Don't very
often happen that way, does It? But
t did In our case. You see, I was the
mly child, and John was a fine, man
y fellow, fully capable of making hls
own way in the world, and always
Like a son to father and mother. How
.hey loved that boy! They never seem
'd quite the same after he disappoint
'd them so. And to think they never
knew the truth. Oh, it was shame
ful! But there, I must not judge her.
5he was young and thoughtless, and
•iorry enough in after years. I'll show
you the letters some time,
them that wrought all the mischief.
They were written while I was West,
visiting my mother's brother and hls
family. You see, dear, Eunice and I
were the best of friends, and I never
suspected till afterward how much
she cared for John, but I never blamed
her for taking him when he wanted
her.
It was
"I tried to think it was the Lord's
will, and stayed West two years try
ing to reconcile myself to the inevit
able. Then mother was taken sick,
and I came home, John and Eunice
had a little one by that time, and some
how those baby fingers helped to heal
the breach; and before-1 knew it I was
loving John's baby as well as I did
him, only in a different way, perhaps,
for there would come times when it
seemed as If my life was a blank. They
were apparently so happy, I so lone
ly, trying to crush out the love I now
felt It a sin to harbor. . Somehow,
though, It survived the years; for
John Is as dear to me to-day, my
child, as in the long ago; when be
neath the apple-boughs he placed this
ring upon my finger. It was In the
spring-time and the old orchard
was D* 16 a dream of fairy-land."
| Again the sweet voice quavered and
broke, and a tear dropped from the
down-cast eyes and glittered like
diamond on the worn circlet of gold.
'Once more memory carried her back
to the time when she was a llght-heart
ed girl, with not a cloud to dim the
TRANSPORTING A NINETY-TON GRANITE COLUMN,
,*î
fir
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7
The construction of the great Cathedral of St. John the Divine, Morning
side Heights, New York, now going on, is one of the biggest architectural
tasks undertaken anywhere in recent years,
owing to lack of funds, but even, if unlimited money were at the disposal
of the trustees, the enormous building could not he constructed in less than
fifteen years.
Eight gigantic granite columns for the choir recently arrived in New
Y'ork from Vinalhaven, Me., and attracted great curiosity while being trans
ported from the dock to the Cathedral grounds.
Each column Is a memorial gift, and they cost about $25,000 each. An
enormous lathe was built to turn them. Unfortunately, they could not be
true monoliths, as they broke in the lathe during the polishing operation,
one of them fracturing within a few hours of completion. Therefore it be
came necessary to make the columns in two pieces. The larger section Is
37 feet 6 Inches in length by 6 feet in diameter, and weighs 90 tons. The
smaller section is 17 feet long. 5 feet in diameter at the smaller end, and
weighs from 40 to 45 tons. The columns were transported from Maine, on
a lighter, two columns being carried at one time. No very great difficulty
was experienced in unloading them, but the carrying of them to the Cathe
dral grounds, a distance of two miles, is proving a heavy task. A special
truck was built for the purpose, which is one of the largest ever constructed.
The frame of the truck Is 30 feet long, and weighs 10 tons. The axles are 7
and 8 inches square, and are made out of cold-rolled steel. The wheels are
built up of seven thicknesses of 3-lnch white oak plank. There are four
5-inch tires on each wheel.
A 40-horse power traction engine Is used to transport the columns to the
Cathedral ground. Progress is, of course, rather slow; for instance. It re
quired nineteen days to carry the first column from the dock to the Cathedral
grounds.
The work is progressing slowly.
sunshine of the hour; when beneath
the apple-boughs she plighted her troth
to the man she loved.
"Ah child," she resumed, finally, "if
my life could have been like that al
ways; but It was not destined to be so.
Methinks, sometimes, the trial was
needed to strengthen and perfect what
otherwise might have been a weaker
character; one that knowing naught of
trouble, failed in that deep sympathy
for less fortunate mortals. How well
I remember the day I received that
letter. I felt sure it was from John
by the writing on the outside. You
see, she had Imitated his hand
closely that I failed to detect the dif
ference. If possible I was more than
usually pleased to receive it, as it was
several days later than on former oc
casions, and I was beginning to chafe
at the delay.
"Humming that sweet old love song,
Annie Laurie, I hastened to my room.
I always wanted to be alone when I
read John's letters. You understand,
my dear? How my fingers trembled as
I opened it, and with a sense of happi
ness, too great for words, bent over the
closely written pages! Alas, how dif
ferent from the other missives I had
received from him. 'He loved me still,
but It grieved him to say, only as a
sister. In Eunice he had found hls
ideal. Would I not release him from
an engagement which, if consummat
ed in marriage, would only terminate
In the ruin of three lives.' He 'begged
me not to mention the affair to my
parents, as he would tell them himself
and thus spare me the ordeal.' Spare
me! Ah, my child, that would have
been nothing in comparison with what
I suffered then.
80
From that hour my whole being
No longer a happy
was changed,
hearted child, but a grave and thought
ful woman. How little I knew that
at that very time, John was having a
fierce conflict with hls own emotions,
as he read and re-read the letter sup
posed to have come from me. 'In the
far West,' It told him, T had found
another, and by the time he received
that, I would be a wife. Would he
forgive me for my fickleness, and could
he not find some one to fill my place?
There was Eunice. I was sure she
cared for him, and would make him
happy.'
"You know the rest, child. He mar
ried her. She was ready and willing
to give him every encouragement; and
not until she lay dying did she con
fess herself the author of these two
letters, and how fearful she had al
ways been that we would find out her
guilty secret, and by a mutual
fession learn that In our hearts
had always been true to each other.
Of course he wondered why I had
never married. But she told hlm I had
been terribly disappointed, and not to
mention the subject to me. The letter
I wrote releasing him from hls engage
ment she received, Instead of him.
Eunice was clever, very clever. It's
a pity so many clever people don't put
their talents to better purposes.
"On the day she died, she called
him to her. 'John,' she said, 'my life
has been spared many years, but I
have not been happy. Knowing at last
that you would never care for me,
you did for her, I was wretched—a
fitting punishment for my sin—but you
have always been a kind and faithful
husband, and I could not die without
telling you all. When I am gone may
you bo happy together. It is my last
con
we
as
request, John, promise me you will
heed it.'
"Well, as you know, child, we were
married in June, although he is past
three score years and ten, and I was
seventy Instead of twenty as it was to
have been. That is all dear, and here
Is John."
Later, as I wandered in the glen, a
picturesque bit of rustle scenery, I
found them sitting in an Ideal spot at
the foot of a beautiful waterfall, the
grand verdure-covered hills towering
above them.
In their hearts as on that spring day
when they plighted their troth beneath
the blossom-laden boughs of the old
apple-tree.—Waverley.
Dear old people; young
TO PENSION GIRL'S MOTHER.
Mrs. lied wig A. Maas, of East Or
ange, N. J., Is to be recompensed by
Congress for the loss of her daughter.
Miss Clara Louise
i
ÆMk
Maas, who died In
Cuba In 1901
the result of an
experiment made
for the purpose of
advancing science
in the treatment of
yellow fever. She
went there on re
turning from a
hurry call to the
Philippines
permitted
as
hW
and
herself
»
to be bitten six
times by a mos
qulto which had
fed upon a yellow fever victim. The
health authorities were trying to dis
cover if the disease was carried by the
Insect, and gave those submitting to
the test a reward of $100. '
Although she bad nursed two Span
iards who subjected themselves to the
test and died. Miss Maas offered her
self as a sacrifice. If necessary, to sci
ence, and fell a victim to the disease
as a result of the bites of the
qulto.
LAM 1 MAAS
mos
She was taken to the yellow
fever hospital, and her sister. Miss So
phia Maas, started from home to reach
her bedside, but death won the race,
and she reached there only to hear
that her sister had passed away.
A bill has now been introduced In
Congress for a pension for the mother
of the girl.
Her Retort.
He was explaining why he didn't
get home until an early morning hour.
"The fact Is," he said, "an old col
lege chum—a stranger In the city_
came to the office, and I felt as if I
ought to entertain him a little-"
"Oh, It was charity!" she interrupted.
"Why, yes," he returned, brightening
at the suggestion, "you might call it
charity to spend a little
money on a lonesome-"
"But charity," she Interrupted again,
"begins at home."
Then he gave up the explanation
business.
time and
"Why It Passed By.
"Did Opportunity never knock at
your door, my good man?" asked the
kindly lady.
"I dunno, ma'am," replied
Bill; "mebbe so—but I never pay no
attention to knockers." — Cincinnati
Tlmes-Star.
Beery
It is easy to Induce a friend to laugh
at your Jokes, but he doesn't always
do it In a satisfactory manner.

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