Newspaper Page Text
f
THE n0W ^S COLLECTION
VOLUME XLW—NUMBER, NINE.
Atlanta, Ga., Week Ending May 12, 1906.
50c PER YEAR-SINGLE COPY 5c.
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■ • e •
I Virginia Hares Land, Rich in Romantic Legends c American History
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By HILTON CASTLE.
Written for The SUNNY SOUTH.
PRIMARILY. Roanoke is
land Is noted as a history
spot. To the visitor
versed in historic lore,
there is a subtle attraction
about the tear.v green islo
on which the first English
settlement in the new
world was made. Here,
too. was the birthplace of
Virginia Dare, the first
Anglo-American. History
tells us not whether this
mysterious-fated woodland
born babe, was brow T n-eyed or blue;
merry-faced; or wonder-eyed, more befit
ting one familiar with the Red Man's
whoop, crooned to sleep by the song of
the sea, a playmate of forest creatures.
Weired lot was thine, Virginia Dare.
On Roanoke island was baptized
Manteo, the kindly Indian chief whom
"Good Q'itebn Bess" ennobled "Lord of the
Isle of Roanoke," the first baptism of
an Indian by the English in the new
world.
The two names, Virginia Dare and Po
cahontas, give the fits* touches of soft
ness to the early pages of American
history. Roanoke and Jamestown, form,
as it were, to English speaking people,
the gateway to the new world.
RALEIGH’S VISIT.
Four expeditions were sent out by Sir
Walter Raleigh with the view of coloni
zation. entailing an expense of two hun
dred thousand dollar^ which was ad
judged a goodly sum in those days. The
slim green isle, some twelve miles long,
and three and a half broad, lying off
t:ie coast of North Carolina—then a part
of Virginia—whlcll the Indians called
"Roanoke," gave kindly greeting to Sir
Walter’s explorers, who carried back to
® *•* *•- • •«
the English land glowing accounts or
Its beauty. Hear what they say;
"The 2nd of July we found shoal wa
ter, where we smelted so sweet and so
throng a smell as if we had been in the
midst of some delicate garden abounding
with all kin”s of odiferous flotvers. by
which we were assured that the land
could not be far distant. It is the good
liest anl most pleasing territory of the
world, and very well peopled and town-
e.l, though savagely, and the climate so
wholesome that we had not one sick
since we touched the land here. To con
clude, if Virginia had but horses and
kino in some reasonable proportion l
dare assure myself, being inhabited wltn
English, no realm in Christendom were
comparable to it. All the kingdoms anu
states of Christendom, their commodities
joined in one together, do not yield more
good or plentiful whatsoever for public
use is nee*3ful or pleasing for delight."
The explorers found the native kindly,
the waters abounding in fish, game
plentiful and luscious grapes, a great
plenty.
A pilgrimage to Roanoke island Is
worth while, especially If the time chosen
be the season of green things. The is
land may be reached by way of the Nor
folk and Southern railway, which meets
the excellent steamer "Neuse," of the
Old Dominion line at Elizabeth City, „\.
C. A good oyster and fish supper may
be enjoyed on the boat.
LOVELY VISTAS.
Roanoke Island is a part of dare coun
ty. and has a population of some 1,700
souls. Manteo is its .-nief town. There
are beautiful drives through forests of
pine, interspersed with holly and red
cedar, juniper, myrtle and sassafras
trees. Everywhere are attractive vistas of
the sea-
The particular spot of interest is the
site of Fort Raleigh, which is at the
northern end of the island. The Roanoke
Colony Memorial Association has built
p round tills relic a rail fence, and in
about the center erected a granite slab,
upon one side of which these words are
engraved:
“On this site, in July-August, 1585
(O. S.), colonists sent out from England
by Sir YValter Raleigh, built a fort called
by them the New Fort in Virginia.
These colonists were the first settlers of
the English race in America. They re
turn'd to England in July, 1586, with Sir
Francis prake. Near this place was born,
on the IStii day of August, 1587, Virginia
Dare, tiie first child of English parents
born in America, of Ananias Dare and
Eleanor White, hia wife, members of
another band of colonists sent out by
Walter Raleigh in 1587. On Sunday,
August 20, 1587, Virginia Dare was
baptised. Manteo, the friendly chief of
tiie Ilatteras Indians, had been baptized
on the Sunday preceding. These baptisms
are tiie first known celebrations of a
Christian sacrament in the territory of
the thirteen original United States."
On the other side may be read these
lines:
"In memory of our first president, Ed
ward Graham Daves. Erected by the
Roanoke Colony Memorial Association,
November 24, 1896.”
The moat is distinctly visible, and in
some places the parapet is over two
feet in height.
This is one of the most attractive parts
of the island. Near here Virginia Dare
was born. Near here stood the tree upon
which was carved the word Croatan, the
last message to the world of Sir Walter
Raleigh's lost colony. The tradition that
they went to live with the Croatan In
dians, and in time intermarried with
them, is given but little credence.
BURNSIDE’S HOUSE.
Another drive, interesting from a his
toric point of view, is to the house In
which General Burnside had his head
quarters during the civil war. The island
was captured by this federal general,
witli 15,000 men under him, in 1862. A
force of confederates, under Colonel
Henry M. Shaw, of the Eighth North
Carolina regiment, garrisoned the island.
Its fall gave the federate the key to
North Carolina.
But enough of bloodshed! Let us to
the sand hills of Roanoke island, where,
in the waters near by, fishing boats lie
peacefully basking, and fishing nets and
seins are objects scattered about. These
sand hills, built by the billowy waves
and the winds, are from forty to sixty
fatt in height
Across the water, seen dimly through
tiie haze of the morning, is Nag's Head,
a popular summer resort. There is a
story connected with this spot which is
worth a moment’s attention. The story
goes, that the ship upon which the gifted
Theodosia, daughter of Aaron Burr, em
barked at Charleston, was cast ashore a.
this point, being decoyed by wreckers who
were wont to tie about the neck of a
lame horse a lighten lantern, and then
send the animal <a-wandering on tiie
beach, to deceive souls at sea. The wreck
ers. runs the story, made the fair Theo
dosia "walk the plank." In one of their
cabins, years ago, a picture was found
which is said to be a good likeness of
thp poor lady. This picture is the cher
ishes possession of a citizen of Norlh
Carolina.
Fishing- is the leading industry on Roan
oke island, and farming is its close sec
ond; while hunting is the principal em
ployment of many visitors to the island.
Ducks and wild geese are a drawing caid.
many gunners coming down here from
the north, and making 'pilgrimages to the
near -haunts of the birds from the Tran
quil house, at Manteo. Of fish, mullets
are the principal ones caught until No
vember. when numbers of rock, perch and
other fish aro caught, and shipped to
northern markets. Blue fish a.re also plen
tiful, and shad and herring are caught in
large numbers in the winter.
THE TWO SOUNDS.
Manteo is a place barren of beauty, but
it is pleasant to look out upon tiie wa-
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Si
&/>e Man in the Loft
E looked fearfully behind
him, then drew a long
panting breath, and scur
ried across the open cor
ner of the hayfieid. to
ward a wooden shed
capped by a loft, which
his hunted eyes espied in
an angle of the farm
yard. Not a soul in sight.
With luck he might reach
it in safety. The door of
the loft stood open, a lad
der reared itself against the
shed. He climbed it nimbly despite his
bleeding hands and bruised feet, wel
coming the sweet-scented gliont of the
loft, half-lfull of fragrant hay, fresh
from the fields.
He flung himself down gasping, then
hid himself in a thuck bundle of hay in
the darkest corner. Surely they would
not look for him here—even if his es
cape had been found out so soon. He
would wait till the summer darkness set
in. then he must push on to the coast.
Only within sight of the sea could he
feel safe. A ship would take him to
another country, where he might hide
securely.
Presently he breathed more ‘freely—his
heart ceased to throb with such violent
-pain, his eyes closed, and the escaped
prisoner slept s-oundiy.
He 'Woke suddenly, conscious of the
hum of voices near him. Peering oau-
tiously from out of his lair, he saw sit
ting just inside the loft, with their
backs turned to him, a man and a girl.
"It's too hot to run any morel" the
girl was saying, with a soft little sigh;
"I wonder if children ever -get really
tired!”
“Never," asserted the man with a laugh.
“Let them have a search for us. They
won’t think of looking here for a bit,
anyway.”
The man hidden in the gloom behind
them saw the love-light in their eyes,
and understood, -perhaps. He shuddered
silently. Such looks as those had once
passed between him and a woman—
how long ago? Long before disgrace
banished him from her side and hid
him away out of sight in a prison.
"Do you think they are still hunting
for us?" asked the girl, hurriedly, in
the little pause that followed. "Yes. i
hear them calling. I wonder if <we ought
to go down?”
“I'll run down -and see that they don’t
get into mi%ohief, if you'll wait here for
me. Will you. Daphne?"
The next moment she was cSexv. and
the man well on his way to find the
children.
It was In that foment that she turned
her rharming head, and saw the man
looking out at her from amongst the
hay. She went quickly toward him. and
said: "Who are you? And what are
you doing there?"
He could hide no longer—that was evi
dent—so lie came boldlv out.
“I'm hiding." said the man. shortly.
If I can do that till nightfall. I can get
away. Are you going to give me up?"
His sfiiteeh was refined, his manner
that of a gentleman. The pity glowed
on her face.
"No," she said at last. "I wouldn't do
that You—you’ve escaped from prison,
then?”
•*•#••• • ••• ... 0 <
“Yes. I've been running and slinking
over the country since before daybreak.
I'm parched rwith thirst. I saw the
(pond down below, but I was afraid to
stop there on my way. Heavens! what
I’d give for a gallon of water!"
“I can give you that at any rate,"
said the girl. "Hide yourself -for a few
minutes."
She 'leaned out of the door and called
loudly, "Harry! Harry!” and the man.
who had but lately left her came hur
rying back.
"What's the matter?” he asked, lamgh-
ing. “I’ve run the chicks to eartn.
They are all right.”
“Do you think you could get me a
drink? I'm horribly thirsty. A big jug
of water, please, and a glass.”
"Oh. yes; I’ll be back in a minute."
Hi? footsteps died away, and the man
hiding in the hay drew a long breath of
relief. He did not move from his place
af Concealment and the girl gave no
sign that she was conscious of his pJ'es-
ence. They both waited till the man
came back, armed with a Jug of new
milk, a glass and a large cake.
"You may come for me when tea is
ready." said Daphne. “Till then I’ll
stay here.”
His cheerful whistle died away into si
lence. Daphne Ward picked up the Jug
and the big cake and went toward tiie
gloom -behind her.
“Perhatrs this will he better than noth
ing,” she said, kindly, and then turned
away, that he might drink and eat in
comfort without ariy watching eyes t«
shame his ravenous hunger.
"You’ve given me fresh life," he said
at length. “I don’t know how to thank
you.”
“Oh, don't mind that.” she said. “What
will you do now?”
"Wait till it's dark, then make the
best of my way to the sea. I might get
away to America and begin a new life
out there. It’s my only chance. Rather
than go back—or be caught—I'd die. You
don’t know what life is like behind those
gray walls, where you have nothing but
your thoughts and silence to keep you
company."
“What made you lose your freedom?"
she asked, abruptly.
"My own 'folly and madness." he said.
"I’m not going to tell you what perhaps
another man might tell you that I’m inno
cent of the crime for which they gave
me seven yeai'6 penal servitude, for I'm
not. It’s a common storybetting, gam
bling. speculating on the stock exchange,
in the hope of making a-fortune at tiie ex
pense of another man's loss. There was
a woman I loved—heaven only knows
where site is now—she was poor, unhap
py, waiting almost hopelessly for the
time when we might be married, and in
my desperate impatience 1 did it to give
her comforts when she was ill. Heaven
knows it was little I thought of. my
self.”
He stopped s?u7rt as the sound of foot
steps came to them from outside, and a
cheery whistle. The girl started.
“You must hide for a minute,” she
said, rapidly; "but don’t despair. I will
help’ you presently. Only don’t let your
self be seen for the present.”
The man hid again behind the fra
grant hay, and the girl slipped half way
down the ladder, at the bottom of which
Harry Spencer was waiting for her with
a mischievous light In his eyes, and his
tall figure effectually barring her way
to the ground.
"You must pay toll,” he said, “and
my price Is always a high one. It's—
Daphne, dearest!—yourself. You know
I love you—you must have seen it, and
T can't help telling you -of It now. I
couldn't wait another minute. Is there
a chance for me?"
The color rushed into her face. Some-
thln«r of her emotion must have been
nrirrowed in her eyes, for Harry, with
out more ado, stepped up the ladder and
took her boldly in his arms.
"Oh, I love you!” she whispered. "But
arc you sure—"
"Am I sure?” he mocked. "Why,
darling, there's nothing I wouldn't do
for you, my sweet.”
Daphne started and drew herself from
his arms. She had suddenly remembered
the man in the loft.
“Would you really do anything I asked
you?” she said, with a smile.
“Really and truly. Try me, darling.”
"Let me have an old suit of clothes,”
she said, suddenly, "if you've got one
you don't want very much.”
Harry started at her In amazement.
But it was clear she was not Joking.
"I’ve got an old suit of flannels," he
said, "which are at your service; but
what do y-ou—”
"And you must not ask why I want
them, Harry dear," she interrupted him,
"you must trust me. It’s a matter of
life and death—to some one else. But
you mustn’t ask anything. Harry. -Some
day, perhaps, I’ll tell you, but I don't
want to now, because it might bring you
botheration.”
"All right. I’ll cut Into the house and
get the suit if you’ll wait here for me.”
He vanished and Daphne went back
to the loft. In a few words she told the
man what her plan was. We was to
change Ills clothes, get into the suit of
flannels which Harry would bring him,
and then, later in the day, she would
drive him back toward the sea In her
pony cart, which was to take her and
her little niece home after the hay
party.
“You're an angel of goodness,” said
the man, brokenly; "some day I hope
I'll bo able to thank you properly. I'd
like to know your name. If I may, so
that I can think of you in the future.”
"My name Is Dapline Ward," she saiu,
simply; "may I know yours?”
“Richard Enderby,” he said; “I was
proud of the name—once.”
“-~nd you will be again in the future.
Remember It’s a new life you're going to
—you must leave the past behind you.
Blot it all out, and start on a clean
page.”
"I will," said the man; “It's a prom
ise I’l keep."
Half an hour later the man stood re
dressed in a suit of gray flannels and
a soft cap pulled well down over his
shorn head. He slipped down and found
his way out of the yard into a lane
which ran Into a distant high road.
Down this he slowly paced until the
smartly trotting feet of a sturdy pony
behind him brought him to a standstill.
A governess cart. In which were seated
Daphne and a small girl with curly hair,
di'o-w up behind him.
"How are. you, Mr. Enderby?" said the
girl, brightly. “Let me give you a lift,
won’t you? It is so hot. That's right;
make room for Mr. Enderby near you,
darling. New, Taffy, on with you, or
we shall -be late home.-
It was all part of the plan con
cocted by Daphne, and it worked ad- -
mirably.
The drive was over far too soon, but
the salt sea stung his face before Miss
Ward pullefl up and pointed with her
whip the way to the little seaport town,
where he could get waay to France and
from thence make his way to America.
She held out her hand frankly to him
in farewell, and with an odd lump in his
throat Richard Enderby took it and held
it for a minute.
"Goodby—and good luck," said the girl.
"No. don't you promise."
"I will always remember it—and you,"
said Richard Enderby.
"'Mail’s late," said someone, and Rich
ard Enderby nodded. He was not par
ticularly interested in the mail; it held
no attractions for him, for very little
news canto to hint from the bid coun
try, besides which tonight he had all his
attention fixed on someTrttng else. it
was a table at tiie other end of the club-
room, at which two men were sitting
playing cards. They had been at it for
a couple of hours or more, and as the
night wan'd and dawn drew near tiie
eagerness and feverish anxiety of the
younger man became jpiore and more
marked. His adversary—an older and a
cooler hand—also, as Enderby knew well,
a more, upscrupulous player—was quite
calm and self-possessed, and won steadily
—by fair means or foul. Enderby was
interested, seeing in tills youngster a
man as he himself had been once, be
fore Turn and disgrace came upon him.
Presently Enderby got up lazily from his
seat and sauntered over to tiie tables as
if to glance at the game. Somehow tiie
boy's voice struck a familiar chord in
his memory. Where ha<» ne heard it be
fore? He could not think, for lie only
knew him very slightly, as a young man
of some promise, whw had but lately
come out from England, jo take up a
good billet In the neighborhood.
His face was flushed now, partly with
the wine lie had taken and party with
excitement. Enderby knew the signs
well, and he drew nearer tiie table, lie
had been all through it liimself, and he
foresaw the ending. The springing up
from the table—cards and money scat
tered over the floor—the accusation of
“Cheat!" hurled at the snarper by the
boy—the scuffle and collision. But En
derby had a strong arm, and a persona
lity not to he despised. It all ended in
the cheat slinking away, and the boy-
lie seemed only sucli to Enderby's forty-
odd years—going out gasping into the
cooler air with his new-found friend.
“You'd better draw «i your horns, my
young friend," said Enderby, grimly "or
you’ll find yourself in . worse plight. '
"You're a good sort,” said the young
mail; “you got me out of that.”
"Look here, Spencer, come in with me;
I know it's late, or rather early morning
—but you don’t feel like bed 1 sup
pose?"
“No, I’d like to come.".
When, later, tho two men were sit
ting with their pipes In the cool little
room. Enderby looked across at his new
acquaintance.
"Take my advice, and drop that
sort of thing," he said, gravely;
"card playing, gambling of any kind,
is bound to lead you, sooner or
later, to—well, worse. And if you've
got anything of a future to look
forward to it won’t help that hope."
Harry Spencer nodded.
"I’ve got a future to look to.” he said,
after a short pause. “I—I hope to bring
my wife out here soon. We hope to be
married next year.”
“Ah! Then let that thought keep you
Continued on Fifth Page.
ter and U » ^
surface; i, . th ,
ate wort!'
lies t
boa rd wh i
"The spor j ,.
rated
■ f spe
tat p
j i is, t
nan'
craft that toss upon its
beautiful drives about
ial mention. The island
rt of the Atlantic sea-
use a trite expression,
oaradise " It is sepu-
aiea roi'-. . , , . ,,
, -t the natnland bv Croatan
sound, am s . ., , , ,,
j touche by the waters of Pam.
ico at j bemar. sounds. Near it is
-oun,; v. h the famous islets—
>£ arnatt r sportsmen.
I f Ron: ik,; island is well
>i truck farming, and the grow-
y. fruits, especially, it would
le culture of grapes, which is
g attention to a large extent.
North Carolina. Amadas and
th,, account of their first voy-
s and write:
I
Currituck
tlie jesort
The so'
adapted f<
ing of st,
seem, for t
common sir
In eastern
Barlow, In
age to the
e * ’ ?d the land about. us, being
where we f , , , . ’ “
, , , ust lander, very sandv and
low toward .. .
„ he water side, but so full
of grapes as . , ,
. , the very beating and surge
of the sea ove , , - , ,
, , , <.'ioweu them, of which we
found suen p!
places else, b<
green soil, on
as well on ev
climbing towarc
that 1 think in
abundance is not
Tty as well there as in all
h on the sand and on the
•he hills as In the plains,
■y little shrub as also
the tops of high cedars,
all the world the like
to be found."
The scuppernong
Isabella are the
grown in eastern N
is extensively wine j
ginia Dare" has the j
wine products and th
haha,” the “Hiawatha . ..
, , .. ana the escup-
pernong, the Indian w
grape, put up by GaTrett
famous vineyard on th
center of which stands
scuppernong vine, transplE
says, from the mainland 1
Barlow In 1584. T t si;
fusion of fruit.
THEY FOUND TOBi
But grapes, of which v
from the early explore-s,
only luxury discovered h
the Catawba and the
tree native* varieties
rth Carolina, which
oducing. The "Vir-
f tiest name of the
the "Minne-
y of spelling the
'■&. Co. There is a
island, in the
•le "mother”
ed, trad tIon
unadas ami
« ars a pro-
>cco
n i<’h
was no, lie
tern on Roa
noke island. They learned from :he red
man the use of tobacco. It was Roanoke
tobacco that Sir Walter Raleigh was
smoking when his frightened servant
deluged him with water.
Interesting to all Americans are the
drawings in the British museum of the
tombs and villages of the Indians as seen
by the first colonists. They are the work
of John White, artist, grandfather of
Virginia Dare, who came over the second
. time to the island as its governor. An
excellent map is also the work of his
hand.
In the story of "Virginia Dare." the
pretty legend of the "White Doe" must
not be forgotten—a legend that has lived
i(Vir some three hundred years.
At the beginning of tlm seventeenth
century, runs the story, some Indians
noticed among a herd of deer on Roin-
oke island, a beautiful m5*k-white doe.
a' sad-faced creature, whose eyes seemed
ever turned toward the cast. The most
skilful archers succeeded not in killing
the lovely creature, and a rumor soon
gained current that the milk-white doe
was the bearer of a chamied life. At
last the Indian chiefs, among them the
good Manteo and Wan-ches-e. who vis
ited England iwith Sir Waiter’s explorers,
gathered together and determined to
make a last effort to rapture her.
The appointed day arrived at last, and
tiie different chiefs stationed themselves
along the routes that the doe was in
the habit of taking. All were unsuccess
ful in their efforts to kill her save Wan-
ches-e, who, .when he had visited Eng
land. been given a silver arrowhead
by the English queen, who told him
that it,would have fata! effect upon the
bearer of a charmed life. When Wan-
ches-e let fly his arrow, then, indeed, the
beautiful doe fail, pierced to the heart.
Site turned her sorrowful eyes upon
him. and uttered the name “Virginia
Dare," a name written also upon her
•breast. On her back were written let
ters that spelled the word “Croatan."
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-••"V
0...0:-9-.-9 — 0 • ••• • O «
| Jude Carson, Esq., Rogue j
ELL. upon nr word " ev-
B“W 1 claimed the Hon. Itupert
* « Algernon Strongbow 'av.
f k glancing through a otter
from Mr. Carson whi^h h ; s
secretary had Just handed
to him. "For unparalleled
and shameless effrontery
this transcends—this Effu
sion of Mr. Carson tran
scends—trenscends every
thing, Wilson, that .has
ever come within the ra ige
of my own experience"
And in his indignant wrath he inflic ed
a resounding slap upon the unoffending
dispatch box at his elbow.
The Hon. Rupert might have expressed
himself with greater force in very much
simpler language, but his own dignity -<u
rather, his own sense of his own ignity
—demanded that he should only use full-
toned and sonorous phrases to express
the simplest thoughts, for he had lately
becom 0 a cabinet minister.
Wilson murmured his entire assent to
the views of his chief, and the Hon. Ru-
port proceeded:
"On the strength. Wilson, of the slen
derest acquaintance, the flimsy pretext of
having been at the same college at Ox
ford with me—which may or may not lie
true, for I have no recollection of the fel
low—he has the hNrdihood to apply to me
to exert my influence to secure for him
some snug appointment—some sinecure
post in the government service. He asks
if I don't myself require a secretary with
nothing to do but draw his pay? The sug.
gestion is an insult. I'll see him, and nip
this preposterous notion in the bud. I
will not be plagued a second time with
such an outrageous application. Tell him
to come and see me tomorrow at 12
o'clock." And the - dispatch box received
another loud and angry slap.
Wilson ventured to remind the Hon.
Rupert that lie had fixed 12:15 next day
far his reception of a deputation of bank
ers.
"So much the better." snapped the lat
ter—“so much the better. I shad get rid
of this presumptuous person the sooner.
Go and write the letter, Wilson, and fix
the interview for 12."
The letter was duly written and the ap
pointment made.
II.
Mr. Carson had shaken the extreme
tips of the Hon. Rupert's fingers, and
been bidden to take a seat. Then the
Hon. Rupert, standing astride on the
hearthrug, with his back to the fire,
launched out at hitn in his most grandilo
quent manner.
"Mr. Carson, I wish to make it per
fectly clear to you in as few words as
1 can employ that I am unable .to en
tertain your proposal for a moment. My
time is strictly limited. I have to meet
an important deputation of gentlemen en
gaged in high finance in—er—in about ten
minutes, so that I have consented to see
you at some inconvenience. Now, I put
it to you. In what respect do you con
sider you are qualified to assist in guid
ing the destinies of this great country in
even the least important branch of the
public service ?"
The Hon. Rupert was extremely pleas
ed with this last phrase, and after re
peating it with deliberate emphasis on
each separate word, paused for a reply.
“I amagine, Mr. Carson, you must have
preferred your amazing request to me in
a moment of temporary mental aberra
tion. That is the view I take of your
conduct; that I consider the kindest view
to take of it. From your silence I must
assume that you have not made a study
of any one great public question, or even
attempted to follow the trend of the
thought of the day.
"Have you studied? Have you in
quired? Have you undertaken tho ardu
ous research work that would entitle
you to an opiniaon on any solitary sub
ject of national interest? I trow not,
sir—I trow not.” And he pointed a de-
nunciatlng and accusing forefinger at his
crushed and conscience-stricken visitor.
The Hon. Rupert, having flattered his
own vanity, and pulverized Mr. Carson
in this easy fashion, felt, naturally
enough, more leniently disposed to him.
He moderated his tone, and adopted a
more oollhquial manner. He remembered,
in fact, that he was addressing an indi
vidual and not a public meeting.
“Now, my dear fellow, ask yourself
what possible use you could be to me in
tiie capacity of private secretary." he
went on in a tone of genial arrogance,
“for I leave out of consideration your
request for a sinecure, as merely evi
dencing a condition of colossal ignorance.
There are no sinecures nowadays. What
possible use do you think I could make
of you as my private secretary? Answer
me that.”
Mr. Corson shook his head forlornly.
This speechless helplessness exactly
suited the minister's humor, and he pro
ceeded to drive his victory home, still
retaining his more genial and colloquial
manner.
"Now. let me just run over to you
some few of the complex problems which
we, we who are the responsible advisers
of the crown, are dealing with and en
deavoring to find solutions for at this
moment. Take Morocco, now. Think of
Morocco, think of the conflicting inter
ests of France and Germany, and imag
ine, if you can, the high, the supreme,
the superlative statesmanship which will
be required to reconcile them.”
Mr. Carson looked positively fright
ened.
"But enough. I have said enough to
convince you of your unwisdom in mak
ing the application to me which—er—er
—which you have made to me. I hope I
have not expressed myself with undue
vigor. But 1 feel very strongly on this
matter. We ministers—I hold that we
ministers are the recipients of a sacred
• trust, and for my own part I will never
recommend any man to any place of
emolument under government—any man
whose appointment 1 am not absolutely
assured would tend to the advantage of
the public service.
“Are you there, Wilson? Very well,
I will come now. You will do me the
justice; Mr. Carson, to acquit me of ail
personal feeling in this matter. If you
have political aspirations, study, read,
write, think, travel, sift, examine and
explore—that is the best advice I can
give you. I venture to hope we may be
come better acquainted, and if I can
Continued on Fourth Page.