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THANKSGIVING.
Oh, prive thanks unto the Lord, for h® is good;
For his mercy endureth forever.
Enter his gates with thanksgiving and into his
courts with praise.
Be thankful unto him, and bless his holy name.
1 will give thanks unto the Lord with my whole
heart.
In the council of the upright and in the oon
gregat ion.
Thou crownest the year with thy goodness.
And thy paths drop fftfness.
3 r-sll offer to thee the sacrifice of thanksgiving.
And wili call upon the name of the Lord.
* c ill pay my vows unto the Lord;
’’ca, in the presence of all his people; in the
courts of the Lord’s house;
m the midst of thee, O Jerusalem.
Thou shalt eat the labor of thy hands;
Happy shalt thou be, and it shall be well with
thee.
Thy wife shall be as a fruitful vine in the in
nermost parts of thy house;
Thy children like olive plants about thy table.
Thou shalt see the good of Jerusalem all the
days of thy life;
Yea, thou shalt see thy children’s children.
The eyes of all wait upon thee;
And thou givest them their meat in due season.
Thou openest thy hand;
And satisfiest the desire of every living thing.
Praise the Lord, O Jerusalem;
Praise thy (lod, O Zion.
For he hath strengthened the bars of thy gates,
He hath blessed thy children within thee;
He maketh peace in thy borders;
He fllleth thee with the finest of the wheat.
Go your way, eat the fat and drink the sweet,
and send portions unto him for whom
nothing is prepared; for this day is wholy
unto the Lord: neither be ye grieved, for
the joy of the Lord is your strength.
Let the people praise thee, O Lord; let all the
people praise thee.
TWO THANKSGIVINGS
“We must be early at church today,
Aunt Charlotte,” said Dorothy. “I have
promised to play the organ, and I would
not be late for anything.”
“What a beautiful Thanksgiving day
it is!” she continued, when she had left
the table and put back the curtain from
the window. “How fine the sleighing
will bet”
As she spoke, a jingling of bells was
heard without, and a sleigh glided rap
idly across the white lawn.
“It is Bert Darricote, auntie,” said
Dorothy, looking out at the handsome
young man, who sprang out of the sleigh
at the steps.
“I have come to take you to church,
Dorothy,” called out Bert to her as she
threw up the sash, letting in the crisp
air, which blew her fair curls in sweet
confusion about her fair, pretty face.
“I know you would not for worlds
miss the opportunity to exhibit your
skill at manipulating the ivories today,”
the young man continued, as he came
and stood under the window and looked
up into the bright face above him.
“I am so very glad you came, Bert,”
said Aunt Charlotte coming up behind
Dorothy. “This child has been hurry
ing me all morning, and a housekeeper
must needs look well to the ways of her
household, particularly when her pastor
and his wife are to take dinner with
her.”
“Just wait a moment, Bert,” said Dor
othy, “and I shall be ready. Do not
keep auntie standing here talking to you,
though. She is all impatience to explore
the mysteries of cellar and closet to see
if perchance she can discover some del
icacy to tickle the palate of Brother
Mallory today.”
She looked very beautiful to the young
man when she came down to him.
“Isn’t the road fine, and isn’t the air
crisp, and doesn’t Selinf travel well to
day, Bert?” asked Dorothy loquaciously
■when they were seated in the sleigh and
were skimming over the smooth, hard
packed snow.
“What makes you so quiet, Bert?” she
asked, astonished at the happy fellow’s
unwonted silence.
“Perhaps it is because I have so much
to tell you, and I hardly know where to
begin,” answered Bert solemnly.
“Do you know, Dorothy, I am twenty
one years old tomorrow?”
“Twenty-one? Yes, you are, and lam
eighteen. And.yet—how short a time it
seems since we were little children;
since wo used to go coasting down Dob
son’s hill. Do you remember the time,
Bert, when Tom Arnold asked me to try
one trip down on his sled and the thing
came all to pieces and I went tumbling
down and sprained my ankle? Oh, how
furious you did get! Don’t you know?
You pummeled Tom’s big head till you
split your gloves and your knuckles, too,
I believe, for they looked very red when
you were dragging me home.”
“Do you remember all that?” said
Bert. “I thought you must have for
gotten it from the way you were smiling
at Arnold the other night at choir prac
tice.”
“Why, Bert, how could he help the
•led’s coming to pieces?” asked Dorothy
laughingly. “I see you are as unreason
able as ever.”
“Well, it’s a man’s business to take
care of a woman, even in little things,
and when a fellow’s even indirectly the
cause of a girl’s coming to grief in any
way I think he deserves to be demol
ished,” said Bert unreasonably. “But
this is not what I wanted to say, Doro
thy. As I told you, I am twenty-one
now, and father has given me the junior
partnership in the bank, and—and—you
know how I love you—how I have al
ways loved you, dear, and I want you to
be my wife.”
The young fellow wound up abruptly,
hastily, looking lovingly into the sweet
face beside him.
The sleigh sped smoothly on, the
horses’ feet resounding upon the bridge
they were just crossing.
“Won’t you speak to me, Dorothy?”
Bert said, almost pleadingly. “You
must know that I love you, and now I
am able to take care of you, dear, if you
will only trust yourself to me, no harm
shall”
Bump! The runners of the sleigh
t struck a board at the end of the bridge,
there was a cracking, a creaking, the
horse bounded forward and Bert and
Dorothy tumbled over into the drift
beyond the bridge.
“Are you hurt?” said Bert, scrambling
to his feet, and extricating himself and
Dorothy from the mass of rugs and soft
snow.
“Not in the least,” she replied, “but
how are we to get to church? Who will
play the organ?”
“Can I help you out of your difficul
ties?” called a cherry voice behind them,
and big Tom Arnold came up in his
handsome sleigh.
“Ob Tom/’ said Dorothy, “I am so
giad to see you! I must he in church.in
PEOPLE’S PARTY PAPER, ATLANTA, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 25, 1892
time io tiie-orga. wraay, ana see
w"iat ; ulell'TKT'
“Well, get in, both of you,” said Tom,
arranging his rugs and holding out hia
hand to Dorothy. “Just fasten up
Selim’s traces, Bert, and hitch him be
hind. He will lead, won’t he?”
“Thanks!” said Bert stiffly. “I can
take care of myself; you had best not
waste any more time, since Miss Daly
must hurry.”
Dorothy looked at him mutely from
her seat in the sleigh; Arnold smiled
beneath his fierce mustache, cracked
his whip, and the horses sped forward,
leaving Bert standing flushed and angry
in the middle of the road.
It was a very silent, gloomy ride, after
all, that Dorothy had. Tom saw her
distress, and like the good fellow that
he was said nothing to her. Her hands
■were trembling and her eyes were full
of tears when he helped her out at
church.
She struck the first few chords doubt
fully, but when the voices pealed forth
clear and sweet the organ tones grew
firmer and fuller.
During the sermon Dorothy did not
take her eyes off the door, but Bert never
came. It was a very demure, a very
sad hearted little maiden who went back
home with Aunt Charlotte in the big old
sleigh. When they reached the bridge,
and she saw the overturned sleigh by the
roadside; when she thought of Bert
standing angry and alone, his sweet,
earnest appeal to her still unanswered,
her heart grew very heavy.
“But surely he will come,” she kept
saying to herself; but when the day was
gone and she knelt down by her bedside,
with the Thanksgiving hymns still ring
ing in her ears, there were tears in her
eyes and sadness in her heart.
That was one Thanksgiving, and, oh,
how sad a one!
There were dreary days of hoping, of
waiting, of disappointment to Dorothy
before another came. She had known
Bert Darricote all her life, and it seemed
to her she had always loved him. His
bright, quick boyishness, his innate man
liness, his very faults even were dear to
her.
“If I could only see him,” she said, as
the weeks passed by and he came not;
“no matter where I should meet him I
would go up to him and give him his
answer. I would tell him I loved him.”
Women are not very reasonable crea
tures in matters pertaining to love. To
her love means sacrifice, and her pleas
ure is to take the faults of the loved one
upon herself.
If Dorothy saw Bert at all it was only
occasionally and at a distance. The
first time she saw him was at church,
and he had only lifted his head coldly.
His heart was very heavy during the
days and weeks and months after ho
parted from Dorothy with the words of
love upon his lips, but he was young
and foolish and proud, and had let a
silly jealousy blind his eyes.
The season of heartache was good for
both of the young things. It softened,
it strengthed them. They both felt
themselves growing—felt their feelings
intensifying.
“How like to last Thanksgiving today
is, Dorothy!” said Aunt Charlotte, as
they took their seats in the sleigh.
“Please God it will not be so sad a
one,” said Dorothy to herself.
“Are you afraid to trust yourself in
this old sleigh with me?” she continued
to her aunt.
“Oh, no,” said Aunt Charlotte. “It
seems safe enough.”
The tramping of the horses’ feet kept
time to Doro 4 hy’s thoughts. She glanced
at the tall stump upon the hillock just
before they reached the little river. Yes,
it looked lonely, desolate, like a white
robed ghost—just as it had looked a year
ago when she and Bert had sped by.
The horses’ hoofs beat a mournful
strum strum upon the bridge, the sleigh
glided rapidly down the last steep de
cline, the left runner struck a projecting
snag, and before they had time to think
Dorothy and Aunt Charlotte w’ere strug
gling to extricate themselves from the
overturned vehicle in the soft snow. A
jingling of bells was heard behind them,
and before Dorothy could realize it Bert
Darricote was bending over her.
“Are you hurt, dear?” he asked very
gently.
“Oh, Bert,” she said joyfully, taking
his hand and rising to her feet.
The young man looked a moment in
silence upon the sweet, young face up
turned to his.
“See where we are, Dorothy! Just
here, a year ago today, I asked you to
be my wife,” he said. “Will you give
me an answer now’?”
“Y r es, Bert,” was all she answered, but
it was enough for him. —Patience Oriel.
Remember the Day.
The feast at last. The grace is said.
And up bobs every eager head,
And bright eyes, like some greedy power.
Go seeking what they may devour.
The turkey at the feast is lost;
The chickens get their drumsticks crossed.
And empty plates, just filled with pies,
The good wife marks with smiling eyes.
Perhaps this day in years to come
Kay find them wanderers far from home,
And with joy hunting memories cheer
The shadows of that changeful year.
—New Orleans Times-Democrat.
The Day of Memories and Hopes.
At the recurrence of the home anni
versary we pause, take up the scattered
threads and weave them into a golden
tissue of memory. Today we may think
over the past—today indulge, if we
wish, in roseate anticipations for the fu
ture. The home anniversary lays upon
us its gently arresting hand, and our
hearts are full.
The British "colony of New Zealand,
east of Australia, has conferred the bal
lot on women. It is in New Zealand
that co-operative farming has begun to
make progress.
The electric searchlight to be used in
Jackson park at the Chicago fair will
have an illumination of 100,000,000 can
dle power. The carbons in the radiator
are twelve inches long.
George William Curtis created the
Easy Chair department in Harper’s
Magazine as far back as 1858. He con
tinued it till his death. Then the Har
per’s dropped the department, for the
Easy Chair had become empty forever.
There are nearly a "billion dollars of
paper money of various kinds in circu
lation at present in the United States.
Os this amount there are $826,000,000
silver certificates, $116,000,000 coin notes
under the law of July, 1890; $172,000,000
national bank notes, and still $346,000,-
000 in old tandar .notes.
A THANKSGIVING HUNT.
How th® Mighty Nlmrods Fared —Dinner
in the Forest.
In a broad and general way hunting
parties may be divided into two great
classes—those that people hear about and
those they do not.
The writer has in mind a hunting
party of the second class —that which
appears not on the written page, nor is
found in the mouths of men. It went
for big game, and got but little of it. It
•went out with plenty of wagon room in
which to bring back venison, deer and
antelope to tickle the stay at homes’
palates, and returned, the wagon space
still unoccupied and carrying no load
but that of solid, soggy, destroyed
hopes. Yet the party was successful —
in away.
There were days—a week of days—
that the party walked or rode over the
hill and plain without getting a shot at
anything. The members became dis
trustful of each other and cast glances
that plainly asked, “Who is the Jonah
of this trip?” For they were hunters by
instinct and training—not of little feath
ered birds, but of game that it takes
brains as well as powder and lead to
reach. They knew the haunts of the
game that they wanted—deer and ante
lope—but they were perpetually to wind
ward, and game fled the country before
them. After a week of disappointment,
of muscles aching with unrewarded toil,
of a steady bread and bacon diet oppos
ing a rising appetite, desperation took
the upper hand.
“I’m getting pretty sick of bacon,”
said one.
“It looks like that is all we’ll get,”
said another.
It was at this juncture that the party
happened on a small bunch of wild cattle.
It was the first meat on the hoof with
which their eyes had been blessed. It
was an exciting moment, and the leader
of the party rapturously brought his rifle
to his shoulder and shot down a yearling
heifer.
“A deer at last! Look at the antlers!”
he yelled, capering gleefully about.
“You are mistaken; it’s a cow,” said a
more conservative member.
The leader looked doubtfully at his
prize and shook his head. “I admit that
appearances are against me,” said he.
“But—so excited—hadn’t shot a gun for
so long—sick of bacon—no, no; you’re
mistaken. It is deer meat.”
So this lawless, reckless party took a
hind quarter and journeyed on. The
next day a deer was actually seen and
killed. Hope revived, and the party es
timated the probable result of the trip,
with a large balance on the credit side.
The third day from the opening of the
season the route led through a beautiful
oak country. Underbrush there was in
plenty, and the enthusiastic leader of the
party looked wisely about as he observed
to another, “Should think we ought to
run across some mast hogs in here.”
Strangely enough, at that moment a
sedate old black and white sow hove in
sight, with her progeny trailing at her
heels. With a porker’s usual disregard of
consequences she was moving straight
against the face of providence. The
leader’s gun was ready, and in a mo
ment the choicest of the litter was a
victim of maternal imprudence. The
mother galloped away with no apparent
regret, and i'he brothers, and sisters of
the deceased went galloping after.
That night—Thanksgiving eve—the
party camped in a sheltered canyon.
There was a spring of clear water in
which water cresses grew. There was
grass in plenty for the mules. There
was wood for a roaring campfire. Who
so happy, so well contented, as the hunt
ers as they sat about the blaze, pulling
contentedly at their pipes and thinking
of the grand and varied feast they would
have on the morrow? There were bacon,
pork, beef and venison; there were
onions, potatoes and canned tomatoes,
flour, salt, pepper, baking powder. The
next day these should be combined in
the most appetizing form. A stew with
dumplings! The choicest of meats, roast
or boiled!
In their mind’s eye they beheld them
selves fattening upon the good things
that their rifles had procured or their
forethought had provided.
Twenty-four hours later this was an
accomplished fact. There was nothing
left to eat. But the fire burned gayly
and the pipes smoked as pipes should.
Complacency and lethargy possessed the
party.
“I don’t feel as though I’d ever move
again,” said the recumbent leader.
“Mebbe it’s just as well if you don’t,”
said a strange voice, and the strange
owner of it stepped out into the fire
light. He had a mean looking gun in
his hands, and the muzzle pointed group
ward.
“I just brought a few friends along to
help you keep Thanksgiving,” he con
tinued, and under the spell of his words
—or gun—the party remained statu
esquely motionless.
“I kinder thought you would like to
pay for that shot© of mine you killed
yesterday?” he inquired.
“And at the same time I’ll collect for
that heifer,” said another stranger, ad
vancing from the opposite direction.
The party fancied itself surrounded.
Then the conservative member spoke.
“Yes, certainly, gentlemen; name your
price. We shall be glad to pay it.”
“That saves us all a heap of trouble,”
remarked the visitors with peculiar em
phasis as they took what money they
wanted and rode away with it. They
left behind nothing but a spirit of
unrest—a longing to quit the country—
strangely at variance with the peaceful
content of a few minutes before. It
was voiced by the leader, that eccentric
genius who had slain both heifer and
shote.
“Boys,” said he, “let’s go home.
Let’s start tomorrow. This hunters’
life is too exciting; there’s heart disease
in my family. Let’s go home and calm
down.”
So the next day the party started
homeward. —New York Times.
“I had the honor to be born in a most
remarkable ye4r,” says Dr. Oliver Wen
dell Holmes; “the same year with four
of the greatest men this generation has
known—Tennyson, Gladstone, Darwin
and Lincoln.” But of these famous men
(three Englishmen and two Americans)
only two are left—Gladstone and Dr.
Holmes. Dr. Holmes celebrated his
eighty-third birthday Aug. 29. Glad
stone’s eighty-third birthday comeson
Dec. 1
The Election.
National Watchman.
The results of the election are not
only a surprise but furnish many
causes for serious reflection. By
this election the future economic poli
cy of the nation will be changed, and a
once powerful political party has been
absolutely destroyed. There is no
disguising the fact that the Republi
can party has suffered a defeat from
which it can never rally. This
crushing defeat should not be con
sidered as an indorsement of Demo
cratic principles, but rather as a re
buke to Republican neglect of the
people’s wants.
Mr. Cleveland was elected in 1884
simply as a protest against Republi
can mal-administration, and with
little if any regard for party doc
trines. Mr. Cleveland was turned
down and Mr. Harrison elected in
1888 for precisely the same reason,
since he had failed to better the con
dition of the people. Mr. Harrison
and his party have trifled with the
condition of the country, and as a
result have just met their Waterloo.
Unless Mr. Cleveland has learned
wisdom and profits by these examples,
his party, likewise, will meet with a
similar fate in 1896. The outcome
of this election is not an indorsement
of Democratic doctrines, but a plain,
unmistakable disclosure of the un
easiness and discontent among the
people, and is a warning to all politi
cal parties that the distress and un
favorable conditions which obtain in
every section of the country cannot
be ignored with impunity. The
coming four years will be a crucial
period in the life of this nation, and
may well fill the most hopeful with
gloomy forebodings. A change in
tariff taxation, to which Mr. Cleve
land and his party are so strongly
pledged, will, as the national expen
ses now stand, necessitate other
methods of taxation. What will
they be and how will they affect the
business interests of the country, are
questions that call for a higher class
of statesmanship than the present
Congress or the campaign has de
veloped.
Again, the demand for more cur
rency is imperative and acknowledg
ed almost universally. When and
how is this to be supplied are also
matters that must be considered and
acted upon at once. So far the
Democratic party has neither dis
closed a plan nor brought forward
men capable of handling the subject.
It is really a party without states
men, without a fixed policy, and is
divided into hostile factions upon
all the great questions it is compelled
to meet successfuly or be driven
from power at the next election.
The bitterness engendered by the
campaign, the extravagant promises
made, the high hopes and great ex
pectations raised among the people,
all seem to point to a thorny path
for the incoming administration.
As to the final disposition of the
Republican paity there is room for
much speculation. Naturally, yet
not imperceptibly, a square contest
has developed inside the party be
tween the West and the East, both
as to men and measures, which has
destroyed both its solidity and union
of action, if not of purpose. It was
with the greatest difficulty that the
last national convention avoided
trouble, even with its misleading and
meaningless phrases and propositions.
But with this recent disaster and
each faction charging the cause to
the other, the breach becomes so
complete as to preclude the possi
bility of its being bridged over.
Taken altogether it is quite safe to
predict that the next Presidential
campaign will be a struggle between
the East and the South and West.
The election of Cleveland will doubt
less precipitate just such a contest at
that date. When the smoke of the
recent political battle has cleared
away, the people will realize more
fully than ever before the unwisdom
of their action and clamor loudly for
relief. This first year of the new ad
ministration unless an extra session
of Congress is called will be spent in
filling offices.
At least six or eight months of the
second year will be consumed by
Congress in matters of legislation,
the Effect of which cannot be felt to
any appreciable extent before the
next congressional election. In the
meantime the distress among the
people will continue, and the already
uneasy feeling among business men
will be aggravated by the disturb
ing influences which always follow a
change of administration. Such con
ditions will dispel all topes, banish
all expectations, and again fill the
people with a desire for a change.
That such a situation is more than
probable the history of tue past few
years will fully sustain. In this
event, the most natural course would
be a union of the independent ele
ment in the South and West against
the element in the East, which is cer
tain to dominate and control the
policy of Mr. Cleveland’s administra
tion. When once such action is
taken the destruction of the Repub
lican party is complete and a party
of the people, composed of the better
elements of both old parties, led by
the present reform movement, will be
the result. Such a termination would
be both logical and in perfect keep
ing with the trend of public senti
ment.
WhAt Does It Mean I
Hinesville Gazette.
What means the victory achieved
by the Democratic party all over the
country in the late election ? It
simply means that the great mass of
the people have awakened to a sense
of the deplorable condition into
wnich labor has fallen by the iniquit
ous laws passed by Congress for the
building up a moneyed class at the
expense of the bone and sinew of
the country. The Democratic masses
have made the same old mistake, that
a change of masters would bring re
lief, notwithstanding the fact that the
leaders of the two prominent old par
ties agree in the main to sustain the
laws that have built the arch that
plutocracy has erected over the
rights of the people. As Chairman
Taubeneck says, they have simply
jumped from one fire to encounter
another.
The masses have been quiet so
long under oppressive laws that the
leaders of both old parties have
ceased to care for the rights of the
people, and have been lavishing all
their care upon their own precious
selves.
It appears from present indica
tions that the Democrats will now
have a chance to do something for
the people. They will not be satis
fied with a little tampering with the
tariff laws. The iniquity of 1873
must be wiped out and the national
bank system must be abolished and
the people relieved by an abundant
currency, and the railroad barons
must be dethroned or ’92 will see
another shaking up of the old fossib
parties.
We can see no hope for any per
manent reform under the leadership
of Cleveland, for he is pledged
against the changes that will truly
relieve the masses against the aggres
sion of accumulated wealth.
Verified.
Winnemucca, Nev., Silver State.
A month ago the Silver State gave
notice that Wall street and the other
money powers had become alarmed
at the popular upheaval for the Peo
ple’s party and had determined to
drop Harrison in order to make
Cleveland’s election certain if possi
ble ; that they had concluded that
it had become dangerous to let these
two parties keep up a fight between
themselves simply for the offices
while thousands were flocking to the
Populists; that Harrison would be
kept in the field to carry these States
where Cleveland had no show, but in
the other States Cleveland was to be
shoved to the front and Harrison sac
rificed : that in conformity with this
plan $500,000 were sent to Georgia
and large sums to Arkansas and Ala
bama to hold the South solid in the
State elections for the moral effect it
would have in November. Our in
formation has been verified. It is
evident that by an understanding be
tween the goldbugs and bondholders
and the manipulators of the Republi
can party, the herders of blocks of
fives, tens and twenties were in
structed to herd them into the Cleve
land camp on election day in the
States between the Mississippi river
and the Allegheny mountains north of
the Ohio river. There was a general
desire on the part of the blue-bellied
Republicans to see Cleveland elected
rather than the success of the Peo
ple’s party, and a desire on the part
of the black-striped Democrats to see
Harrison elected rather than Weaver.
This desire was openly expressed in
this State by both parties and it
seems to have prevailed in an equal
degree east of the Mississippi. It was
anything to beat Weaver and silver.
The People’s party never expected
to do more in this election than to
hold the balance of power in the
electoral college and thereby defeat
both Harrison and Cleveland and
name the next President and thereby
secure free coinage of silver. If the
Republican bosses had not sold out
their party in the interest of Cleve
land and Wall street the People’s
party would have accomplished its
object. But when they threw Ohio,
Indiana, Illinois and Wisconsin to
the Democrats, the forty or forty-five
votes for Weaver are powerless to
defeat the goldbugs in this contest.
The Weaver States, however, are
monuments of true manhood and
vigorous American policy, around
which the people will rally in the
future for free coinage, for more
money and less misery.
I'he news this morning still fur
ther confirms our information of a
month ago. Harrison charges his
national committee with treachery,
and the press dispatches intimate
that a public exposure of the inner
workings of the committee will be
made. It was feared by the silver
men that the Harrison electors would
vote for Cleveland in case there
should be no election by the people
at the polls, but they were not pre
pared to believe that the Republi
cans would fuse with the Democrats
in so many Republican States and
give the election to Cleveland. We
must admit that Wall street and the
Republican managers outgeneraled
the friends of silver by practically
pulling Harrison out of the fight on
the day of election. If the Republi
cans had stood up to the rack for
Harrison in Ohio, Indiana, Illinois
and Wisconsin, confessedly Republi
can States, the People’s party would
hold the balance of power in the
electoral college. But the “ghosts”
haunted them by day and by night,
and the 70 cent dollar put them in
the comatose state of “innocuous
desuetude,” and they were herded
into the free. wool sheep fold by
thousands without knowing where
they were being driven to.
The result of the election has
eliminated all side issues out of
American politics. The great vital
and living issue of free coinage and
more money upon the one side, the
gold standard and continued con
traction of the currency upon the
other, will be the great question be
tween the two remaining national
parties, the People’s party and the
Democratic party. On with the
dance,
ness piß
The sfl
polled M
Ji " - - ■
! ISe
nopi [y 1 arty becaJJ
h'Jl ro-e.i<,n, wllrll iiTp«|
a ve:\- small proportion of W
monopolies and of the mil™|
enriched by them owe anythinJß
the tariff or would be affected bynJ
abolition.
We do not say this because we
justify the tariff, but because wa
wish to awaken our readers to the
absurdity of the notion that the man
who stops at free trade can reaaon
ably claim to be an anti-monopolist
or an intelligent or honest opponent
of plutocracy. Let us look at a few
of our groups of plutocrats and seo
what the tariff has to do with them.
Dr. Lyman Allen in the current Cali,
fornian Illustrated Magazine writes
fe upon “Millionaires,” and his state
ments, based as they will be seen to
be, upon facts known to all, furnish
material for our purpose. He says:
“By far the larger number of great
millionaires, and especially those
whose fortunes have been acquired
during the last three decades, are
men who have made their money
mainly in constructing, capitalizing,
managing and consolidating railway
lines. Perhaps one half of the total
acquisitions of the notably great for
tunes in that time have been made in
that way. The list of this class of
millionaires would include Cornelius
Vanderbilt, William K. Vanderbilt,
Jay Gould, Leland Stanford, John 1.,
Blair, Collis P. Huntington, G. B,
Roberts, F. W. Vanderbilt, Russel
Sage, Calvin S. Brice, Charles Mr
McGhee, Chauncy M. Depew, Ches
ter W. Chapin, John H. Inman,
Samuel Sloan, Samuel Thomas, Tim*
othy Hopkins, Frederick L. Ames,
James I. Hill, Erastus Corning, Aus
tin Corbin and J. Rogers Maxwell,
and the estates of Charles Crocker,
Thomas A. Scott, J. W. Garrett,
Moses Taylor, Mark Hopkins, Na*
thanel Thayer, E. F. Drake, William
L. Scott, William Shaw, H. F. Clark
and Sidney Dillon.”
Dr. Allen adds what everybody
knows, also, that—
“ The most notable group of mil
lionaires next to the railway man
agers is composed of the Standard
Oil men, including Mr. John D.
Rockefeller, William Rockefeller, H.
M. Flagler, O. H. Payne, John H.
Flagler, Oliver B. Jennings and the
estate of Charles Pratt.”
Next to these come the million
aires enriched by unearned incre
ment on real estate, of which the
Astors are the leading representa
tives of a host. ?
Then come the telegraph, tele
phone and express company, *be
flour and dressed beef
We do not question the inequitable
effects of a protective tariff, nor that
there is a considerable class of men
enriched by its unjust operation, but
these are mere flea-bites compared
with the plutocratic leeches whose
grip on the country has nothing to
do with the tariff, and would not be
in the slightest degree loosened by
its abolition.
Os all horned cattle, deliver us
chiefly from hypocrites; and of all
hypocrites, the man wno, stopping at
free trade, pretends to be opposed to
monopoly and plutocracy, is just
at present the most offensive.
The Central Californian (Fresco)
accepts the Democratic party as th<
lesser of two evils:
And the victors ? Is their victory
a blessing ? Hardly; or at best, a
negative one. Much, of de
pends on the conduct of the Demo
cratic party. They have now the
grandest opportunity ever presented
to a party. They have both the
power and the opportunity to remove
the cancer destroying our free insti
tutions. They can restore silver td
its rights; they can curb the greed
of capital and limit the power of cor
porations. They can restrict the
scope of judicial power to its propel
limits, and throttle the vicious lobbj
of Congress, until the black soul
flies to Hades, where it belongs. It
can purchase the highways of the
nation for the nation, or build new
ones. It can construct the Nicara
gua canal in the interest of thp
world, but under the perfect control
of our government. We say it can
do these things, but will it do them ?
To judge by its past, it will not, but
if it don’t, wo unto it'. It will be
snowed under deeper than the Re
publican party is now. The People
of the nation have given it a new
lease, but it should not forget that
this grant was coupled with a pro
test, a protest, silent, but profound,
like the fathomless ocean, so calm
and placid in times of peace, but ter
rible when roused to fury. Let the
Democratic party forget it, and its
doom is sealed.
In 1836 Andrew Jackson took the
surplus in the United States, s36j«
000,000, and distributed it amongsj
the people, and gave the national
banking system almost a death bloty»
But in 1888 Grover Cleveland took
the surplus of more than $61,000,000
from the United States treasury and
deposited it in the national banka
without charging the banks any in
terest. Andrew Jackson was the
founder of Democracy. What rela
tion dees Grover Cleveland bear to
it?