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3effersonian
Issued Every Thursday.
Office of Publication: THOMSON, GA.
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Entered at the Atlanta, Ga., Post Office, Jan. 11,
190 7, as second-class mail matter.
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NOW.
THOMSON, GA., JANUARY 19, 1911.
The Difference Between You, and
Your Congressman
It won’t do for to bolt the convention,
or the primary or the election. Oh, no! That
would never do, at all, at all. It would break
up any party in the world.
But your Congressman can bolt the party
and the platform, too, without doing the least
harm, or incurring the least penalty.
See what the Georgia delegation did for
Pompous Bill Brantley! He was one of the
Deserters, whose betrayal of his people
helped to increase the cost of living. He
walked right away from his own flag, en
listed under that of the stand-pat Republi
cans, and fired on his own former comrades.
Did he get any punishment? Not a bit.
Was re-elected, without opposition; and has
the solid support of the Georgia delegation
for his old place on the powerful Ways and
Mgans Committee— which frames the tariff
hills that tax you. from cradle to grave, on
the necessaries of life.
In Brantley, the South-Georgia and Flor
ida Lumber Trust has a reliable servant;
and he is now. AC AIN, where he can serve
his master best.
Don’t forget that Charley Bartlett—ram
pant friend of the people LAST YEAR!
helped to put this Deserter where he can do
the most harm to your interests.
Don’t forget that Deserter Lee stood by
Deserter B.
Don't forget that little Tom Bell was like
wise true to the Lumber Trust, as he was
when he voted inonev out of your pocket into
that of the monopoly-makers.
Calico Charley was for his brother De
serter; and iso was Smooth-goods Adamson.
Even Hughes and Roddenbury supported
Brantley: and, of course Pussy-foot Howard
did.
Lou Livingston and little Hardwick were
arm-in-arm for the Deserter—which does not
surprise me in the least. They are birds of
a feather, and it was natural for them to
flock together.
As long as the Representative from the
Tenth had my confidence and support, he
never ventured to vote with the Howard-
Livingston-Brantley element in Congress.
That is, he didn't do so when his name went
to record.
He knew that I would not stand for any
rotten voting: consequently, it was quite
true, as I said in The Jeffersonian, that his
recorded votes were democratic.
But now, when he knows that I understand
him. and will never be fooled in him again,
he throws his mask aside and proves that,
in principle, he is the same as Lon Living
ston. Pussy-foot Howard and Calico Charley.
It was a most unfortunate thing for the
whole country that Willis Evans could not
THE JEFFERSONIAN
see his way to take my earnest advice, and
retire from the race in favor of Oswell Eve.
My subsequent plan for bunching the votes
was announced a little too late. Jefferson
county misunderstood it, and so did Talia
ferro.
Owing to this, the vicious little fraud and
libertine escaped deserved defeat.
And he did not have the prudence to wait
until the next Congress, before proving that
he and Livingston and Howard are all alike
—in their perfect readiness to trade away the
interests of the people to get something per
sonal to themselves.
Calico Charley sold out, for committee
places and Federal Patronage.
Hardwick has done the same thing.
Heretofore, when he voted right, he could
not get a place on any important Committee,
m r did he have the slightest influence or
patronage. He admitted this, and bewailed
it.
Now, however, all is changed. He joins
“the gang,” turns political harlot, and is
promised his reward. It is to come in the
shape of a place on the Committee on Rules.
Whether he is to be paid in patronage, also,
we shall learn, later.
What Was the “ Tremendous Pres
sure ” That Coerced Presi
dent Taft ?
The President was reported as saying that
he did not want to appoint White to the Chief
Justiceship of the U. S. Supreme Court, but
that he yielded to a “tremendous pressure.”
When the Chief Executive surrenders to
hidden influences, the country should try to
discover who are these secret rulers of our
country.
Let us see:
White is a Roman Catholic, who was edu
cated by the Jesuits.
Thos. F. Ryan is a Roman Catholic, who
gave $1,000,000 to the hierarchy to build the
Cathedral in Richmond. He enjoys the most
unusual indulgence of being allowed a
private chapel in his house—and a special
priest.
This devout Ryan is also the Big Man of
the Tobacco Trust. The Government is try
ing to destroy the Ryan monopoly. Every
body knew that the case was to be argued
and decided in the 17. S. Supreme Court, im
mediately after Christmas, just passed.
To have a Jesuit-trained Roman Catholic
presiding as Chief Justice when Ryan’s great
case came on, was vastly advantageous to the
Ryan trust.
Ryan controls Senator Root— his lawyer of
old — and Root is the power behind the throne
with Taft.
See?
There’s where the “tremendous pressure”
came from. Os course, Falconio and Gibbons
pussy-footed some, too.
The case is now (Jan. 12) being argued;
and Chief Justice White is badgering the
attorneys of the Government in true Federal
judge style. From the very beginning of the
argument, he has shown an indecent zeal for
the Ryan Trust. He is doing all in his power
to confuse and discourage the lawyers who
represent the Government.
Poor Mr. Taft! Poor oppressed people!
* .
Nobody Wanted Bryan’s Book
A news item going the rounds of the papers
is that, in Montgomery, Missouri, on Jan. 9,
there was a public sale of books; and that
Bryan's “First Battle” was one of those
“cried” by the auctioneer.
No bid was made. Then the auctioneer
threw in three other large books, including
a picture of W. J. 8., and the whole clutter,
after much effort on the part of the perti
naceous auctioneer, fetched 15 cents!
Alas! How the mighty have fallen. And
in Missouri, too!
Do You Remember My Estimate of
the New York Convention ?
At the time when all the editors were pro
claiming Roosevelt’s victory, at Saratoga,
and when the Big Noise was more deafening
than usual, I made the prediction his ap
parent triumph was a calamity to T. R., and
a gain for Taft. Roosevelt got his men in,
but Taft’s friends made the platform.
And the platform was the millstone that
carried the Colonel down, and which keeps
him down.
It aligned him with the old men of the old
East, when he ought to have made himself
solid with the young men of the young and
growing West. The error was fatal, as he
might have known it would be.
Who is This A. W. Force, Anyway?
You will remember how Captain Tip Har
rison came tearing into the newspapers, -to
defend the manager of the Soldiers’ Home;
and to claim that A. W. Force was the hero
of Fort Sumter.
Now, it just so happened that I remem
bered quite well the uay Gouverneur Embree’s
mother died, here in Thomson. He and I
were great friends; and I was deeply im
pressed by the feeling he exhibited when his
aged parent passed away. In the intimacy of
confidential friendship, he told me that the
fond mother had preserved to the very last a
souvenir of the Civil War. It was a splinter
of wood—a bit of the flag-staff of Fort
Sumter.
The Yankees had shot down the flag, and
it had fallen outside the Fort. Tier brave
boy had dashed out of the fortress, had
snatched up the standard and had replaced
it on the ramparts. As he did so, a bullet,
aimed at him, chipped the staff, and he coolly
picked the sliver up, and carried it away with
him.
The, next time he wrote a letter to his
mother, he enclosed the chip, and told her
the story.
And among her most sacred possessions, the
fine old lady kept the memorial of her fav
orite son’s heroism, to her dying day!
You may have read his letter, in last week’s
paper; he wonders at my remembrance of
what he told me, the day his mother lay, a
corpse, here in Thomson. As if I could ever
forget a thing like that!
But the thought which wrings my heart
until I see these lines through a veil of tears,
is—
That a cowardly impostor, like A. W.
Force, of New Jersey, should have been able,
for so many years, to have held a fat office on
the strength of his claim that he did, what
Gouverneur Embree actually dared and ac
complished.
I was present when General John B. Gor
don compliment Gouveneur Embree, as
one of his most gallant men. I myself was a
witness to the affection in which these two
old soldiers held each other.
But Embree is unassuming and modest,
while such men as Harrison and Force are
blatant and boastful; consequently, the Hero
earns his living as clerk at the Planter's
Hotel, in Augusta, while the two mouthy
braggarts, Force and Harrison, luxuriate, in
salaried sinecures, in Atlanta.
“’Tis a mad world, my masters!”
P. S.—Knowing that Judge H. D. D.
Twiggs, of Savannah, Ga., was the hero of
Battery Wagner, I requested my Secretary
to write him, asking if he knew anything of
A. W. Force.
This morning’s mail (Jan. 12.) brings the
Judge’s reply.
Just as I expected, he answers that he
never heard of A. W. Force while the Forts
were being defended.
It is up to Tip Harrison to explain why
he gave this New Jersey coward such a char
acter for bravery.