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A BIG-HEARTED, PATRIOTIC RAILROAD- -Continued
A splendid colony from Ohio has been settled in
Ware County and a large colony of Jews is to he
planted in Pierce.
Speaking of this colony, The Wiregrass Coun
try says:
“Pierce county is to have a Jewish colony, ac
cording to reports, 35,000 acres having been pur
chased in that county for the settlement. It
is stated that the settlers will be gathered
from the large cities of the United States
and brought here to till the soil. Rabbi Levy,
who is a Georgian, is engineering the enter
prise, and he has selected wisely in respect
to land and locality, as there is nothing better
in the Wiregrass Country than Pierce county.
And Pierce is to be congratulated if this colony
materializes, for the Jew is a law-abiding, in
dustrious citizen wherever we find him.
Where the wiregrass now encumbers the
ground, he will make luxuriant with food
crops and Pierce will add millions to her
wealth by giving the scattered Jews a home.”
“Quit Climbing Hills and Jumping Gullies.”
As a striking illustration of the unique and
effective advertising which Mr. Leahy is send
ing broadcast over the country through the
Publicity Department of the A., B. & A., read
the following front page of a folder calling at
tention to “Farming Lands in South Georgia
and North Florida”:
“Quit climbing hills, jumping gullies and
piling rocks. Come where lands are easily
cultivated and crops never fail. Come to
Thomasville, Ga., and W. E. Craigmiles will
show you the garden spot of the Southland
in an automobile. Lands sell from $5 to $25
an acre, and make 130 bushels of corn, 700
bushels sweet potatoes, 200 bushels Irish po
tatoes, 500 gallons syrup, 120 bushels oats, 90
bushels peanuts, 750 pounds lint cotton, 2
tons of hay, a car load of melons to an acre.
This is the land of hog and hominy, schools
and churches.”
He “Delivered the Goods.”
One day a few weeks ago a stalwart-looking
stranger walked into Mr. Leaky’s office in the beauti
ful A., B. & A. building in Atlanta, and said: “W. J.
Vaughan is my name. I read your ‘ad’ about cheap
home lands in South Georgia in the Detroit Free
Press. It looked good on paper, and I decided to come
down here and see if you were telling the truth. If
you were not, I’m going to expose you. But if you
have told the truth, ’lm going back and tell my
neighbors and bring lots of ’em to this country.”
Leahy smiled in confidence. “Good! We
covet investigation, Sir, and I am satisfied you
will be so well pleased that you will go back
as an evangel from our section to the home
seekers of the North and West.”
And he did. That stranger went to Tifton,
investigated the many thousands of acres of
level, fertile lands opened to home-seekers by
Capt. H. H. Tift, the great commercial nestor
and big-hearted philanthropist of Wiregrass
Georgia, and the result was that our enterpris
ing friend from the North went back to De
troit and organized a company for the pur
pose of bringing these lands to the attention,
and within the reach, of thousands of his
neighbors who are trying to flee from their
long, cold winters to a land of sunshine, and
plenty. Mr. Vaughan is especially handling
10,000 acres of the Harding Fig Farms, where
a man makes a good living and money on ten
acres of land.
Moultrie Is Wide Awake.
No town has more royally and enterprisingly
responded to this patriotic railroad’s leader
ship than Moultrie, the hustling young metropolis
that is the capital of Colquitt county. Led by such
“live wires” as Zach Clark, W. C. Vereen, W. E. Ay
cock and John E. Howell, the Moultrie Chamber of
Commerce has been laying itself out for the home
making development of Colquitt county, which is
nearly as big as some New England States.
The Moultrie Observer tells of “landing” the first
new citizen in the following entertaining story, tell
ing how a “man from Missouri” was “shown” by the
The Golden Age for September 8, 1910.
enterprise of the Moultrie Chamber of Commerce:
“The new-comer is Mr. J. C. Christensen, of New
London, Missouri. Mr. Christensen is from Den
mark, originally, but he settled in Missouri some
years ago, and has accumulated quite a snug little
fortune. In recent years his community has been
settled and rather crowded by a sort of mixture of
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A BEAUTIFUL SCENE IN THOMAS COUNTY, GEORGIA.
the foreign element. He became desirous of finding
a new location where there would be more elbow
room a'nd better society. He read an advertisement
in the St. Louis Republic, placed by Mr. W. H.
Leahy, General Passenger Agent of the A., B. & A.,
telling of the attractive opportunities to buy farms
along this line of road. He turned his place into
money, got New York exchange for it, and came to
Atlanta to see Mr. Leahy. He was shown the Col
quitt county advertising matter placed with Mr.
Leahy by the Moultrie Chamber of Commerce, and
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A SCENE IN THE WIREGRASS.
Westerners Who Have Learned the Dixie Way.
was pleased with the description of conditions down
here. He was then given a letter of introduction to
one of the officers of the Chamber of Commerce, and
came down to further investigate. When he reached
Moultrie he was delighted with what he saw, and
the lands shown him suited him at once. In less
than forty-eight hours he had purchased a farm,
paying more for it than it will cost to maintain the
Chamber of Commerce for the entire year.
“Mr. Christensen thinks that if the people up where
he came from knew of this section down here that
a great many of them would move here.”
John Greer and the Wiregrass Country.
“Hand in glove” with W. H. Leahy in this patri
otic development of “The Land of the Pines” is
John W. Greer, editor of that stirring monthly pub
lished at Tifton, Ga., known as “The Wiregrass
Country.” As editor of The Waycross Journal
for years, and later connected with the ex
ploitation of Senator George W. Deen’s famous
“Deenwood Farms,” this cultured exponent of
philosophy, poesy, commerce and patriotism,
has performed indeed a patriot’s part in the
best building of his section.
Associated with Mr. Greer in the publica
tion of “The Wiregrass Country,' and as
president of the Georgia Development Com
pany, is Henry H. Tift, Jr., the worthy son of
a worthy sire, who, though reared amid the;
comforts of wealth and heir to a great for
tune, presents the rare and inspiring anomaly
of “a rich man’s son,” who has not been*
“spoiled in raising.” Pressing on till he grad
uated with distinction at Mercer University,
he is now training for the safe and sane man
agement of bis honored father’s vast estate.
“Helping One Another.”
It is positively refreshing to see how the A.,
B. & A., and its neighbors along its lines have
established a splendid fellowship and are
helping one another.
Whenever anybody has anything unusual in
the way of home lands to offer to the public,
Mr. Leahy gets out an attractive folder about
it and sends it out through his Publicity De
partment to the people far and near. Only
last week $24,000 worth of land was thus sold
in Thomas county.
This added work which is soon to be in
creased 100 per cent, has made it necessary
to promote Mr. E. H. Fell (so long the effi
cient chief e’erk to the department) as As
sistant General Passenger Agent, and he wears
his new honors and responsibilities with a zeal that
knows no flagging, and a smile “that won’t come off.”
But, as the boy said who had eaten too much: “I
must close for want of space,” but not before de
claring at the end, as at the beginning, that for real
big-hearted patriotism, commend me to this spirit
and work of the A., B. & A.; H. M. Atkinson, whose
organizing genius has done more for the develop
ment of this section of the Soutn than any other
man of this decade; Samuel F. Parrott, whose heart
masters his purse in his dealings with humanity; and
W. H. Leahy, who has “worked himself into
a frenzy” almost, for the abiding uplift of the
people whom he serves. All three make a con
quering trio in the upward sweep of this
“Wonderful Country”—a trio whose big-hearted
example gives an electric thrill to progress,
and a daily tonic to patriotism.
* »,
In the Wiregrass .
Ralph M. 7homs on
You may boast of an Alpine country,
Os the Land of the Midnight Sun;
You may rave o’er Italian fountains,
Os the fame by the green Nile won;
But I drink to a low-’and section,
That is far from a mountain pass—•
To a flowered lea,
And a Southern sea,
And a home in the Wiregrass!
Oh, sweet realm of the snow-white cotton,
Blessed tryst of the wind-trothed pine—
Oh, rich soil, where the shrubs smil© gladness
And still skies, where the pleased stars shine, —
I have strung my heart for the ages
To sing of a true-eyed lass —
And of love supreme,
And of home —my dream— •
And of God, in the Wiregrass! • '
« *
A book of George Stuart’s Sermons and
the Golden Age go at $2 until Oct. Ist.
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