Newspaper Page Text
4^ wtm rr a Wmf'
S. B.
The New Exodus,
WHAT TWO RADICAL SCOUN¬
DRELS ARE ATTEMPTING.
It is being reported in certain
northern papers that a new exo
dus scheme, having for its object
the inducing negroes from the
south to emigrate to the we3t, is on
foot. The movement is said to be
under control of one J. C. Browne,
a philanthropic (?) Philadelphia
Quaker, and ‘General’ W. T. Con¬
way, that Sams radical malignant
who made himself so conspicous
last year in deluding, for politi¬
cal purposes, so many of the color¬
ed race into seeking poverty and
death in the bleak and frozen north¬
west. Friend Browne telegraphed
to New York from Philadelphia,
under the date of Tuesday last,
that he had just returned from
Louisiana and Alabama, and that
thousands of the colored people
are leaving those States pell mell.
Gen. Conway, in an interview with
a newspaper reporter, about the
same time, places the number
ready to leave at 100,000, and
says that they are already organ¬
ized into companies and societies,
and are ready to move at a given
signal. He further says that the
cause of lha exodus is the bad
treatment, by the whites, of the
blicks, who ‘are made desperate by
their wrings,’ and that a company
has been organized with one J. \V.
Woodward, of New Rochelle, N.
Y., at its head, and the exodus will
be conducted on business princi¬
Seven hundred thjusand
acres of land have beta purchased
in New Mexico, and-more will be
acquired as it is needed. Emi¬
grants from the south will be treat¬
justns any others.from the for¬
countries. Colonies will be es
tablished, land will be bought and
‘..he condition of the blacks must
improve.’
The animus of this movement is
apparent It proceeds from
no love to the blacks, because it is
no part )f friendship to induce
him to leave the home of his birth,
and seek his future amid untried
scenes. Iu the west he will not
only be subjected to the trials of a
rigorous climate, in a strange land,
but he will be brought into active
competition with a largo class of
white laborers, whose numbers are
every year increasing. And past
experience has very clearly estab¬
lished the fact that the white man
of the north and west loves the
black man very dearly when he
can do so without detriment, to
himself ; when, however, his inter¬
ests are jeopardized then his love
vanishes, The black man, in com
petition with western labor, will
very soon be regarded in the same
light that the heathen Chinee is at
present, and will receive in a few
years equally as bad treatment.—
Nor will his condition be much bet¬
ter in the wilds of New Mexico,
where he will be regarded by sav¬
age Indians as legitimate prey, and
where he will find that in many re
spects he has jumped from an im¬
aginary frying pan into a real fire.
The whole object of Messrs.
Browne and Conway and all tbe
of their genus, therefore, is
not to benefit the blacks but to in¬
jure the South. They begin by
vilifying the whites of our section,
and publishing to the world that we
oppress the negroes, when such as
sertion has been proven false in
every respect. If negro labor is
so essentially necessary to the
South, then it does not stand to
reason that the Southern planter
will estrange and drive away from
him a factor on which his very ex¬
istence depends, and, while we are
not specially familiar with the sta
tus of the colored man in Louisiana
and Alabama, we know that such
assertion is false as regards Geor
gia, for from the official figures
published in the late report of the
Comptroller General of this state,
the blacks here are possessed at
this time of wealth aggregating 35,-
764,294 in value and their wealth
has increased $581,895 in the past
year alone. That does not look
much as if the black man in Geor¬
gia, at least, is maltreated, or that
he is, if industrious and thrifty, in
a starring condition.
Gen. Conway thinks that if his
exodus is carried out to its final
consummation it will prove a very
serious matter to the South. With
ill-concealed exultation he says that
when he has succeeded in running
off our negro population the south¬
ern people will have to meet the
problem ‘how to raise their crops,’
and he is evidently highly delight¬
ed at the idea that ’ it will be a
problem very difficult of solution,
and that suffering and poverty will
return to our section. In this Mr.
Conway is counting without his
host, for the south,of all sections inr
this country, will -be the least in*
jured by his malignity. Planters
in some sections may be enbarrass
ed for a while, but just so long as
the south can produce the best cot*
ton in the world, and so long as
cotton is in demand all over the
globe, just so long will the neces
sary labor be supplied, and the cot¬
ton will be produced. But even
should Mr. Conways exodous re¬
sult in a decrease of production of
the crop, who would be the most
affected? Not the producer, for he
would receive higher prices for his
products, which would fully com¬
pensate him for the decreased sup¬
ply. The consumer and manufac¬
turer of the north, whenever the
supply is not equal to the demand,
would be the ones to suffer, since
would have to pay largely in¬
rates for the raw material,
for the clothing which they
necessarily be compelled to
In thus striking at the hat¬
south, Mr Conway would be in¬
on his own people a much
blow.
Besides this,in some respects the
would be directly benefitted
this proposed exodus. Not on
will the shiftless and lazy ne
alone join in the movement,
the industrious and thrifty
but if General Conway, Mr.
and their minions have res
succeeded in spreading discon¬
and dissatisfaction among 100,
negroes, the sooner the south
rid of their presence the better.
are now simply obstruction¬
in the way of southern prog
; they are no longer to be re¬
on either as citizens or labor- ■
and their places will be speedi¬
filled by better men.
Mr. Conway and all the rest of
the malignant crew may as well ret.
the fact now that they can as
hope to successfully
dam the Mississippi river as to
stem the tide of southern prosper
; and he will find out that even
if he should succeed iu depopula*
ting the south of her negro citizens,
will not permanently, or even
for any serious length of time, re¬
tard her advance. This is destin¬
ed to become the wealthiest section
of this great country in a very few
years, and if our people are but
true to themselves, all the machi¬
nations of all our enemies combin¬
ed cannot prevent this destiny from
being fulfilled.—Savannah News.
The Famous Duel of Winston
Countv.
Long ago in the days of our mili¬
tary glory, when S. S. Prentiss was
the pride of Mississippi, and A. K
McClung was in the height of his
fame as a duelist, the ‘code of honor’
held a high place in the esiimation
of a large class of our citizens. This
was then the popular way of settling
disputes and avenging insults. It
looks like a shame that sensible men
in a Christian country should adopt
or approve this mode of settlement,
and calling it by high sounding title
—‘code of honor,’ when in fact it is
a code of shame and disgrace. But
so it w*s. About this lime there
lived in Winston county, Mississippi,
two young men about as unlike as
two young men could well be. One
of them, William Smith, was a tall,
broad-shouldered, read-headed,
rather flue looking young man, who
was as proud as Lucifer, and always
carried about him a double charge
FORT VALLEY, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, DECEMBER 10,1880.
of dignity. Bill, as the boys called
him, though such familiarity always
hurt him, was always on the lookout
for an insult. His feelings stuck out
so far tliat it was impossible to get
near him without running against
one of them. Indeed he could not
endure anything that gotio the way
of his pride. The only wriy to gel
along with him pleasantly, was to
flatter, and feel like a contemptible
hypocrite, which he was. The oth
er young man, James Junes, called
Jim for short, was a low, chunky,
heavy set fellow, and rather hard
featured^but he had in him a warm,
true heart, and was the friend of ev
ery-bodb and everybody liked him.
He was a born wag, and loved a joke
aud enjoyed a laugh, even at his own
expense, which is a rare gift in pro¬
fessional jokers. Jim w as part Irish
and had inherited the streak of wit
of fuu characteristic of his race. At
times Jim carried his love of fun too
far aud hurt the feelings of people,
especially of those who were a little
sensitive any how. But nobody was
more ready to make amends for tbe
wrong done than Jim Jones. The
fact is there was such a vim of hu¬
mor iu all he did that it was almost
impossible to get mad at him, and
harder still to stay mad. Jim joked
into his troubles and then joked
out of them. In the autumn of 18-
40, Bill Smith and Jim Jones met at
a party given by the widow Foy.—
Bill was elaborately dressed in anew
suit of cloth, his coat cut in the
style then iu vogue which was with
a ‘claw hammer’ tail. Ills pride
was manifest and his immense dig¬
nity never seemed so prominent be¬
fore. Jim Jones was modestly at¬
tired in a new suit of homespun
jeans, made out and out from the
raw material by the deft fingers of
his mother and sisters. It was gen
erally known that Bill Smith, like a
terrapin, carried everything he had
on liis back, while Jim Jon s was
laying up something for a rainy day.
Jim was brim full of fun and was
making things lively at the party.
Unluckily for him he concluded to
work a practical joke on Bill Smith
He knew bow sensitive Bill was,
but trusted to luck to pacify. Just
before the dance was to commence
he slipped ari und and pinned a large
red bandana handkerchief to Bill
Smith’s coat tail. Bill danced up
and down the room two or three
limes before he discovered that he
was the cause of so much merriment.
When he discovered the showy ap
pendage dangling at his heels the
fountains of his wrath broke loose
and he vowed vengeance upon the
man who had made such a specta
cle in company. Jim, poor fellow,
begged pardon, and then tried t<>
laugh Bill into a good humor but it
only made matters worse. The next
day Bill Smith challenged Jim Jones
to a settlement according to the
code. Jim properly accepted the
challenge, named the day two weeks
off, fixed the place in a large Indian
old field, and chose to fight with
short swords on horseback, contes¬
tants to approach each other from
opposite sides of the field at full gal
lop aud to commence fighting as
soon as they met.
Bill Smith owned the finest horse
in Winston county—a large, spirit"
ed dappled gray. During the in¬
terval between the challenge and
the fatal meeting, he put himself and
his fine horse through a regular
course of training in short sword ex¬
ercise. He spent from two to four
hours a day in the saddle cutting
and cleaving the air with his sword
and in wardliug off imaginary blows,
making imaginary thrusts. In his
own mind he was a great hero, but to
cool beaded people he looked like a
fool—which he was. All thin time
Jim Jones was at home at work keep¬
ing his own counsel and receiving
the advice of his friends with a smile
of indiffereuce. When any one told
him, as plenty of people were ready
to do, of tho preparations being
made by his antagonist, and of his
pompous boasts of what he was got
ing to do and how he would make
mince-meat out of .Tim Jones, Jim
would quickly say, ‘I will run Bill
off of that field.' The proposed
duel was of course a profound sec
rect, but like most secrets of the
kind it spread far and wide, tot als
ways under the lock and key of se
cresy. When the fatal day came, as
fatal days always do sooner or la
ter, more than a hundred men were
on the ground fully two hours
fore the time of battle. It is won¬
derful that the interest of a fight
of any kind, even a dogufight, will
stir up the bosoms of some men .—
Ten Smith minutes rode before the the -side time "of JjUi the
upon
field where those had gathered who
sided with him in this affray. He
was dressed up within an incli
his life, and his fine horse now,
richly comparisoned, never showed
so well before. Bill’s friends
tbouhgthim the very impersona¬
tion of chivalry and true courage,
and could not repress a cheer as
rode upon the gronnd, his
sword gleaming in the sun light. f
Presently Jim Jones rode up
among his friends on his side T>f
the field, astride a bob tailed In
dian pony, known to be twenty
years old. His whole outfit, sword
and all, was in keeping with the
pony he rode. Hanging across his
saddle were six old tin pans and
twelve large gourds—three pans
and six gourds on each side of his
pony. A broad smile spread over
Jim’s face as curious eyes began to
peer at his turn out. A deep voice
said, “Ah boys, that is Jim Jones
exactly—he will win the day.’’ Af
ter some little parleying, the sec¬
onds—always willing parties to the
crime of duelling, gave the word of
command from their station in the
center of the field. The contes¬
tants started at a gallop, though
Jim Jones had hard work to get
his bob-tailed pony under way.—
They came swooping down upon
each other, Jim s tin pans aiql
gourds malting almost
noise. When about one hundred
yar Is apart Bill Smith’s fine horse
stopped short, threw up his head
and began to snort ominously. In
a moment more he took the bit in
his teeth and broke off obliquely
across the field as if running for
his life. Jim Jones filed right af¬
ter him, calling out at the top of
his voice, ‘Stop, Bill, I’m not going
to hurt you—stop, Bill, and let’s
make friends.’ The company join¬
ed in the race which was continued
for a mile and a half when the po¬
ny gaye out, and Jim had to stop.
The friends of both parties came up
convulsed with laughter, and
crowned Jim Jones as the ‘prince
of jokers,' and urged Bill Smith to
an amicable adjustment of the mas¬
ter, as it would be a pity to kill a
fellow as good natured as Jim
Jones was. They made friends and
lived and died on good terms.
This duel cured Bill Smith of his
pride, and helped to make a man
out of him. This was the first and
only duel ever foughtt in Winston
county.
Gilderoy.
There’s Money In It
The report which the ccpimis
sioner of agriculture sent to tho
Senate last year on the subject of
sheep husbandry contains a great
deal of suggestive matter with ref¬
erence to that industry in the south
ern states, showing that th* area
of the cotton belt, which it 262,-
269,440 acres, is preeminently
adapted to the raising of sheep.—
There the most valuable grasses
for winter pasture grow luxuriant¬
ly, chief among which is the Ber¬
muda grass. On this va«t area
there are to be found, according to
the reports of the agricultural bus
rea, but 2,883,000 sheep, not as ma¬
ny as are found in the single state
of Ohio, where the expense of keep¬
ing them is largely increased by the
necessity of bousing them and car¬
ing foiWem in the winter, a course
which is obviated by the more fa<
vorable clim ite and winter pastu
rage of tho south. In New Eng
land alone there are 750 woolen
mills in operation, and tho demand
for wool insures a permanent pats
ronage for sheep husbandry. One
company in Lowell uses 1,800,000
poundsof wool ft year? alfofeer mill
at Lawrenpeville uses 3,000,000
pounds, another 4,000,000 pounds.
The coarser varieties of wool, for
carpet manufacturing purposes, are
imported to the extent of 23,d00,<
000 pounds a year. Of the finer
fleeces it is stated that a dozen 1 Ve w
England mills consume an amount
equal to the whole product of the
state of Ohio. There is, therefore,
abundant necessity for wool
The report of the agri¬
cultural burea sets forth the neces
cf'the maintenance of the high
tariff on wool and informs wool
growers that their success depends
upon the maintenance of the high
duty on woolen products. The
fact is that the manufacturers got a
duty of from ninety to one hun¬
dred per cent, levied on foreign
woolen products, which they make
consumers pay them, and threw a
sop to American wool growers in
the shape of a duty of thirty per
cent, on imported raw wool. Some
of them have since been clamoring
for free raw wool, but they want to
retain the big tax of 103 per cent,
on imported woolen products— shown car
pets especially. As we have
they import annually about 23,000,
000 pounds of wool. To make
things equal, the tariff on raw wool
should be made protected prohibitory, spoliators so as
to compel the
to buy all their wool from American
woo! growers. The present If Ameiican system
is grossly unequal. under
woolen manufacturers can
sell Europe, as they assert, there
is no need for protection to the
amount of a cent. If the tariff was
reduced to the revenue basis, then
the mills would be kept running as
usual, and the sheep would have to
be raised to supply the wool. The
southern states can grow wool at
almost nominal expense, and a low
tariff would make no inroads upon
the profits of sheep husbandry.—
They can grow better wool than
that grown in Australlia, the great
sheep-raising country of the world,
and Aonoe the business needs no
artificial- coddling.' The high'titriff woolen
gave a false stimulus to
manufactures during the war and
for a year or two after. Men ev¬
erywhere built woolen mills, and
the consequence was that the prod¬
uct soon greatly surpassed the de¬
mand, and there wa3 weeping and
wailing among the protected, and
a prodigious shutting up of mil’s.
That is the way protection works.
It is an unnatural process. The
wool raising and wool manufactn -
ring business in this country would
be all right without the with protective the
tariff. It must grow nat¬
advance of the country in pop
and Americans should not
forced to pay artificial prices
their woolen garments.—Couri¬
Journal.
RAISING HAIR.
Syracuse Sunday Times.
It was one of the by-laws of
Heartache’s Heavenly Hair Rais¬
that it be used liberally be¬
retiring, rubbing it well
the scalp. Just before he
to bed the man bolted the
door, put the cat into the
came in whistling the
waltz, danced up to the
shelf, and pouring out what
supposed to be his hair fertili¬
zer, he mopped it all over his scalp,
stirred it well in around the
of the little hedge of hair at
back of his neck.
The glue bottle, by an unhealthy
was nearly the same
and size as the hair sap bob
He went to bed.
‘George,’ said bis wife, turning
face to the wall, ‘that stuff you
putting on your hair smells
a pan of soap grease.’
‘Perhaps I hod better go up
and sleep,’ snarled George.—
‘You’re mighty sensitive! You
expect that a man can put
stuff on his head that 'Will make
hair grow, and have it smell
essence of winter-green,would
you V
They went to sleep mad as
Turks.
This particular bald-headed man
jjk e a great many other bald-head
ed me », had to get up and build
tHe fires: When bn arose next
morning the sun poep'ed in at the
window and saw tbe pillow cling
fa tho bride of his head tiko a great
^hite chignon. At first he did
realize his condition; ho
thought it must have caught on a
pin or button. It looked ridicu¬
lous, and he Would throw it back
on the bed before his wife saw it?
so he caught it quickly By one ebd
and yanked.
‘Oh 1 Ob! Damation to fish hooks,
what’s been going on here! Thun¬
der and lightning!’ and he began
to claw at his scalp like a lunatic.—
His wife sprang up from her couch
and began to sob hysterically.
‘Oh, don’t, George! What is it?—
What’s the matter ?’
George was dancing about the
room, the pillow now dangling by
a few hairs, his scalp covered with
something that looked like sheet
copper, while the air was redolent
of war-like expletives, as it a dic¬
tionary had exploded. With a wo¬
man's instinct the wife took in
situation at a glance and exclaim
ed :
‘It is glue f
The bald-headed man sat down
in a chair and looked at her a mo¬
ment in contemptuous silence, and
then uttered the one contemptui
ous word:
‘Glne?»
Now b’egan a series of processes
and experiments unheard of in the
annals of chemistry.
‘Jane, you miist soak it off with
warm water. I’ve got to go up to
Utica to-day.’
‘I can’t, George,’ she replied in a
guilty tone,‘it’s water-poof.’
‘Yes, I might have known it; and
I suppose it’s fire-proof too, ain’t
itr
He scratched over the smooth
plating with his finger nails.
‘It’s as hard as iron,’ said] he.
‘Yes—he said it was good glue!’—
repeated she innocently. ‘Can’t
you skim it off witH your razor,
George?’
‘Don’t be a bigger fool than yon
are, Jane. Get me that coarse file
in the wood shed.’
It may be imagined what follow¬
ed, and now, as the bald-headed
man sits in his office, he never reo
moves his hat, for his entire skull
is a howling waste of blistered des¬
ert, relieved here and there by oa¬
ses of black coat plaster.
Appleby’s Troubles.
What a Jersey Bridegroom got for
fifty cents.
When magistrate Martin called
up John Appleby yesterday, there
stood up the meekest and apparent¬
ly the meanest-feeling specimen of
humanity that ever yearned to go
home. When tho ten o’clock train
left Burlington yesterday morning
it had as passengers the aforesaid
John and his wife, which article of
household economy he had owned
since the night before. When the
ferry-boat reached hor slip on this
side of the river John and Tillie
up the street, He
said: ‘Sweety, pet, s’posin’ you and
me stop into one of these ere eatin’
stores and fill up. I never wanted
somethin to eat wuss in my hull
life 'ceptin’ that day I got lost in
the woods lookin’ alter dad’s old
heifer.’ Tillie was agreeable, and
they entered. Appleby resolved to
spread himself. ‘That there’s the
programme, Tillie,’ he said, and
then he told her ‘jest to tell the
black feller to tote along whatever
she wanted,’ but he didn't mental¬
ly expect to spend more than sev
enty-five cents for the whole lay¬
out
Tillie took a hair pin from
store . curls » and j punched , , two
or
three holes near the top of bill of
fare and two or three more about
an inch from the bottom and told
the waiter to ‘bring in all tbem
things between fee punctures.’
He smiled, and went down and
told few cook that a couple of speo
neys Were up stairs, and had or
dered a thunderin gorge and to
get it up lively, In about fifty
minutes there appeared to the as
tonished gaze of the rustics tea,
coffee; chocolate, ham sandwitches,
oysters in every style, turkey, wild
duck, three kinds’ of soup, vegeta
bios ad lib, meat and other, stuff
including two bottles of champagne
No. 2 z
■pale ale and a saucer of Havana se
gars. .‘Pt»is to me,’ said John,
‘they kinder do things up right at"
this tavern, and I’m cornin’ right
here whenever I get to town__
That ere keerd outside reads: ‘A'
square meal for cents and if this’
here aint’t square, for them figures;
I’ll chaw pumpkin vine, till I spit*
seeds. Then did that unsuspect¬
ing couple go to work on the solids
and Appleby, after the fourth
swig of Clicquot ‘elder,’ whictr he
drank«wt of the bottle; wanted 1 fc?
lean over and swap kisses with Til-'
lie, and said he could lick any man
that laughed. Then they ate some
more, and John wanted to sell 1
-
what was left of the feed to a Bow
officer for twenty cents. Next he
tiled tb wrap a broiled chicken up
in a copj? of the Burlington En
terprise, but it slipped through and
spoiled his pants.
Appleby wasn’t any too good hn.
mored when he asked ‘how much
the whole durned thing was,’ and
when the gentlemanly cashier re¬
plied $8.40, John reared around
and tore the buttonhole out of Mg'
paper collar. ‘Mister, ’ said he, yon
can’t play none of those ’ere tricks
on me. Mebbe I look green, but T
kin lick any man that wants to’lock
me like that fur a feed fur two, and
one on 'em a delicate female. We
ain’t eat all the Stuff, * nohow, and
you kin set it out’to them fellers
with high collars and trace chains
onto their watches. I’m just a-go¬
ing to pay you fifty cents, accor-r
din’ to your sign. Do you s’pose a
man’s slummick kin take in all that
stuff and grind it up proper?’ The
cashier tried to explain that the
things h id been ordered and must be
paid foT, but got tired ou! at last.—
Then he sa’idr ‘Now look here, old
melon sqnasher, I’m fired of fooling
with you, and you just di-gorge
that eight forty or I !1 hand you ov>
er to an officer.’ ‘Will you?’ yelled
Appleby- I'm ‘you cornin’ wax-end bended old'
roosteer; far you,’ and
then he jaroped the counter arid they
clinched, and tried to get each oth¬
er’s head in the cream freezer, while
the rest of the guests bet hats and
segars as to how it would come out
the odds being about ten to four on
Appleby. Then the show case weDt
over, and the cashier and Appleby
were mixed up with jellies, bakes
and confectionery; with while Tillie pels
ted the waiters segments of aps
pie pie and custard, yelling to John
to ‘give it to him good/ Somebo¬
dy went tor a patrolman, and .when
he got Appleby to tbe station-house’
tho turnkey invested fifty ceDts in’
court plaster and oysters for his eyes.
His bail was $1500 for assault and
battery. He had had enough, and
simply horse remarked, ‘Darn sich a one
the town, yellow anyhow.’ An hour la¬
ter maria carted him sadly
away among the rest of its load of sin
and Tille look a train for home.—
Philadelphia Norh American.
People who t ike midnight stfolW
on railroad tracks shouldn’t be of
fended if tho coroner doesn't recog¬
them.
A little girl who was much potted
said: T like sitting ott, gentlemen’s
better than on ladies’; don’t
ma?’
Patriotism is is a glorious thing
its way, but we observe there
always the most candidates for
office that has the best pay.
‘How shall I have my bonnet
asks Maria; ‘so that it
agree with my complexion?’
yon want it to match your f *ce,
it plain, replied the hateful
Hattie.
He didn’t know it was loaded?.
There was only three fingers in it,’
but it carried away three of his.—
He says he can get along yery well
with his work, though he is a little
short handed.
. before ? wo the f n “ tribunal r , B ^ T? before '' >e<Jded which life ^ ‘
th hfrve institmed proceedin
for a judical seperatrori. ‘I am
sure,’ says the lady warmly] ‘that I
can 1 8ee what he has to complain
are two bosoms with a
St* T* * **
A daWeston family has a Colored
8ervaat that, while very atleritive to'
her duties, has never been known to'
give anybody a civil answer. Pore
ly as an experiment the lady of the'
house brought hor a new calicodresri
arid gave to her, saying: ‘I am glad'
to'have the pleasure, Matilda, ol'
giving you this dress.’ ‘Yer monk
hab had dat pleasure long ago efyef
had had any rogard foah my feeH
ings,’ was tho gratcfril response;