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VOLUME
the sunset THRUSH.
It it a dream? The day is done—
The long, warm, fragrant, summer day*
Afar beyond the hills the sun
In purple splendor sinks away;
The cows stand waiting by the bars;
The firefly lights her floating spark,
"While here and there the first large stars
Lookout, impatient for the dark;
A group of children saunter slow
Toward home, with laugh and sportive
word,
One pausing, as she hears the low
Clear prelude of an unseen bird—
‘ ‘Silent sweet sweet
— — —
Sorrowful—soiwouful—sorrowful P'
Ah, hist! that sudden music-gush
Makes all the hearkeuing woodland still—
It is the vesper of the thrush—
And all the child's quick pulses thrill.
Forgotten in her heedless hand
The half-filled berry-basket swings;
What cares she that the merry band
Ta^s cn and leave her there! He sings!
Kings as a sorapb, shut from heaven
And vainly seeking ingress there,
Might pour upon the listening even
His lo ve, and longing, and despair—
‘ 'Sweet sweet sweet
— — —
Sorrowful—sorrowful —sorro wfu 11 ”
Deep in the woo l, whose giant pines
Tower dark against the western sky,
While sunset’s last faint crimson shines,
ile trills his marvelous ecstasy;
"With soul and sense entranced, she hears
The wondrous pathos of his strain.
While from her eyes-unconscious tears
Fa!! softly, born of tenderesfc pain.
What cares the rapt and dreaming child
That duskier shadows gather round?
She only feels that flood of wild
Melodious, melancholy sound—
“Sweet — sweet — sweet —
Sorrowful—sorrowful—sorrowfulF
Down from immeasurable heights
d'ho clear notes drop like crystal rain,
fi he echo of all lost delights,
All youth’s high hopes, all hidden pain,
All love’s soft music, heard no more.
Hut dreamed of and remembered long—
Ah, how can mortal bird outpour
Such human heart-break in a son.*?
Yv hat can he know of lonely years,
l >i idols only raised to fall,
Of broken faith, and secret tears?
And yet his strain repeats them all—
“ Sweet—sweet—sweet
—
Sorrow f ul—sorrow ful—sorrowful F
Ah, still amid Maine’s darkliug pines,
Lofty, mysterious, remote,
While sunset’s last faint crimson shines,
The thrush’s resonant echoes float;
And she, the child of long ago,
Who listened till the west grew gray.
Has learned, in later days, to know
The mystic meaning of his lay;
ften still, in waking dreams
youth’s lost summer-times, she diears
Again that thrilling song, which seems
The voice of dead and buried years—
‘ 'Sweet—sivee t — sweet —
Sorrowful—sort owful—sorrowfulF
— Elizabeth Akers, in the Century.
'LISH, OF ALKALI FLAT.
!
I5T FRANK B. MILLARD.
t
CLUMP of scraggly
cacti grew against
the shack, and
W scratched its un-
painted side . when
the wind blew bard.
1 i But it was not blow-
stilus? ^ !J mg at all heat now ^ and
k e s f m f
\ <■ 1 eser \° . , £C ant i’ Ver warped
,, l ie sky-line . was curling the shakes atop
lie shack and sending every breathing
ling on Aikuh I fat, even to the lizards,
nio uiesnaae.
ihere were just three rooms m the
shack, and Lish s was tae end one, next
to the kitchen. I he little house was
rimed as tight as a drum to keep in
whatever of the night s coolness re-
mamed in it, which was little enough.
L ls I the whole 1 of it was Alicia—-sat
. , her and talked with her
in room,
mother, who was peeling pota oesm the
Kitchen. Although m separate rooms,
their sharp, Missourian voices were clear
enough to each other. Tnere was just
one thing to ralk about, and nearly
everything on earth that could be siud
about it had been said, so they had been
F? ln ? .P vcr 1 a a ° am ’ was P a !’^
Dig strike.
“It am t dead sure, ye know, ’Lish,” .
m0ther ’ ' Til T ks ,^ S
near like it as one jack-rabbit looks l like
erD .°,\,f r '
hi - workm , . , awful . , hard, , , . ,
paps am t
ne, mawl
‘1 reckon he is. ^
Lish looked out through the small
window. Her glance shot past the
rails that glimmered under the angry
sun, down there by Alkali Flat Station,
past the two scurrying dust demons that
showed there was air in motion some¬
where, even though sporadically, and
away over to the blue buttes.
There was a notch iu the far butte—
Scrub Canon, they called it. Pap was
working there in that notch, under th^t
awful sun, in the Testless wav that pap
always digging worked, las pick lie was the there dry alone,
ami into ground
scanning each clod and broken rock
ior the yellow specks that meant so
much to him, and that were to put
something Better than a shake roof over
their heads.
She lelt for him that horrible heat; she
saw the drops of sweat trickle from his
brow and plash upon the rocks, making
their dark mark there for an instant and
drying up iu an other; she felt, as she
put it, “the spring gain’ out of her,”
just as it was going crut of ‘‘ol’ pap.”
“But he wouldn’t let me help him—
never wou.d, even ef he was a—workin
his two bans off,” she sighed.
Then she went and set the table for
dinner. They ate in silence, ’Lish and
“maw.” ^ There was no good talking it
all over again. It would not do to count
too much on it, anyway. Other strikes
bad been in promise, year after year, and
nothing uad come of them, absolutely
ac ™ 1D S*
iba afternoon wore on. The glare
THE t
AND PIEDMONT INDUSTRIAL JOURNAL.
had pone out of the day. They opened
the door to let in the growing coolness
outside, watching for ‘ml’ pap's” dust
meantime, and wondering what news he
would bring. He was late; but he hal
been late before. They sat on the door¬
step and glued their eyes to the notch in
the butte, which had begun to blur as
the sun had gone to make an oven of
some other part of tha world.
“There he comes,” ’Lish would say;
but it was only a dust demon trying to
trick them.
And so the night grew on; but the
full horn of an early moon shown down,
and atill they watched.
“Guess I’d better go over an’ see ef I
kain’t raise him,” said ’Lisb. “An ef
he’s a-goin’ to stay out all night, he’ll
need a blanket. I’ll take him one, an’
come back with the news, whatever it is.
Git the blanket, out, maw, an’ I’ll go an’
buckle the sheepskin onto Oi’ Jim.”
The desert night told its secrets to the
girl as she rode the slow mustang over
the trail to the buttes. And the depart
night holds many secrets for those who
care to hear them; but it did not whis¬
per the darkest of them to ’Lish that
night. The air came warm and then
chill, as she passed through the dillereut
strata that were from low, not plain or
frigid mountain-top. Old Jim was so
slow. He minded no more the flicks
from the strap-end than he did the brush¬
ing of the greasevvood past his lean form.
He did make a plunge now and then;
but that was when a cactus-spine pricked
his side.
At last the girl reached the canon,
which seemed to be done in black and
white, so light did the moon make the
exposed parts, and so inky were the
shadows. It was frightfully quiet in
there. As she went along, she heard
the whinny of her father’s horse, tethered
beside the wall of rock. She left Old
Jim to munch the mesquite near by,
while she tripped up a steep trail, and
came to the gash her father had made
with pick and shovel in the lone canon-
side.
There he was, sitting on the ground
and leaning against a rock. The moon
shone upon his patched overalls and upon
his dusty shirt; but she could not see his
face, for his head was bent forward and
was hidden by the brim of his slouch hat.
“Pap,” her sharp voice stabbed the
quiet, “I catnc up ter see ef you was
ever cornin’ home. I brung a blanket,
pap, case yer wanted to stay ail night.
You oughter ’a’ come home hours and
hours ago, ’stead o’ workin’ au’ workin’
till you was all fagged out.”
He did not lift his head. A puff of
cold wind came down the the canon,
and, striking the girl's brest, made her
shiver.
“Sleepin’ on the rocks. Wal, I swim!
Tuk-too much outen the black bottle,
I’ll bet.”
She stepped nearer.
“Hullo, pap! You ain’t drunk agin,
be you? Pap, pap, I’m clean ’shamed o’
you!”
She leaped to the rock, gave him a dig
in the side of his leg with her stoutly
leathered toe, aud then shook his shoul¬
der.
“Pap, wake up! You’ll catch yer
death a-cold, steepin’ out this way. An’
here we’ve be’n a-watching’ out i'er ye,
aQ > W atchin’ till our eyes was most give
out, white you’ve be’u up here havin’ a
g 0od 0 p guzzlin’ time, all by yerself,
an ’ no t carin’ a cuss. It’s playiu’ us
raearij pap, an’ you know it.”
She shook his shoulder again. His
head fell back. The face was chalky
white.
“God, pap! What is it?”
She felt his face. It was stone cold.
Th e touch froze her. She felt his heart,
The throb was gone ouc of it>
up d p, pap!” and all the canon heard
her sharp, desolate cry; “my ol’
Heaintdead?”
a big lizard went scutteiing down the
slope, an owl in a scrub-oak near by
gave a dismal hoot, and the coyotes set
up their throaty howls.
She gulped and gasped. Her breath
seemed cut off. She would have fallen
a t bis side, but that her ear caught the
coyotes’howls and caught, too, their
horrible meaning. She stayed herself
by her two hands against the rock and
tried to get her breath. The coyotes
howled again, iu awful chorus, and she
3hu ddered.
“They shan’t get you, pap; they shan’t
get you. 111 take you home. ’
jj er breath came free as she spoke.
she grasped the dead man’s shoulders,
and ’ kee P ia ff as much of his bod J from
the ground as she cou'd, she dragged
him down the rocky trail, toward the
spo t where the horses were tethered,
She winced when she heard his boot-
bcels scratch the ground, but she pu led
a uff tugged with all her might, and,
panting, she laid his for n near Old Jim,
who snorted and jumped and pricked up
his ears. Then, with a glance backwark
from time to time, she went to her
father’s little camp, took his axe, and
cut two poles, with which she made a
“dust-trailer,” the pole? being bound to
Old Jim’s sides like shafts, with jaieces
of strap and bale-rope. She lifted the
bo dy again, to put it on the rude con-
veyance. Tiie moon struck it fu’i this
and, as she roiled it over gently
upon the trailer, she saw a big clot of
blood on the back of the dark shirt, and
bv it was a clean-cut bullet-hole. With
a 'shudder, she let the body fall. Then
gbe looked at her hands. There was
blood upon ahem and upon the sleeve of
*
her dress.
“Claim-jumpers!”
She set her teeth hard when she thrust
forth the words, and clenched her hand
till the nails dug into the palm.
They had killed him, then, while he
^ a s at work. He had crawled as far as
the rock and had died. It was a strike
— a big one—and it had cost him his
life. But_
she looked up the canon with awful
aQ ^ smote the air with the clenched
hand.
Then 6he bent down, and, taking a
long halter-strap, fastened.the body
securely to the top of the trailer, and,
mounting her father's horse, she led Old
Jim carefully down the canon and out
upon the night-chilled plain. Tne coy-
TOCCOA, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 15, 1892.
otes followed her, and almost rent her
heart by their howls, but she kept on,
and before midnight the sad little pro¬
cession reached the cabin. The mother
was still up, and she ran to the door
when she heard the sound of the hoofs.
“Is that you, ’L shj” she called out.
“Did ye bring pap home? Is it a dead-
sure strike?”
’Lish slid from her horse and ran to
the door.
“Maw, Maw, Maw!” was her cry.
“Maw, they’ve killed him! They’ve
killed poor old papl”
It was a month after they had laid the
old man in tbe white earth, and the
wind was whispering through the sage¬
brush and scattering its gray leaves on
his grave.
’Lish was up in the canon, behind the
very rock where she had found her dead
father. The canon draught was grate¬
ful to her after the hard ride over the
heated plain. She drank in long
breaths of if, but all the time her eye
was on the hole where her father had
made the one great strike of his life and
had died for it.
“Strange he never comes ’roun’—that
greasy-faced Jose Garcia. ’Twas him
that did it. P’raps he’s waitin’ fer U3
to move away. He’ll wait a long time
—till he's dead.”
She let her glance fall for an insiant
to the something that gleaned along the
top of the rock. That something was
the barrel of her father’s rifle. The
wind rustled a snake skin on the rock at
her side, and a “swift” darted into the
shade aud looked at her with unwinking
eyes.
Then a dark, squat figure stole out of
the canon depths and up to the mine.
The girl did not start, but a smile passed
her lips. The figure moved about as
sileutly as a shadow. It turned a swart
face toward the spot where she lay hid,
but there was more of interest for it in
the bole in the canon side than for aught
else, and on this the eyes were bent.
By moving the muzzle of the rifle two
inches aloug the top of the rock, it cov¬
ered the flap of the pocket in the left
breast of the blue flannel shirt.
“Farther than I thought for,” the girl
said to herself—“nearly a hundred and
fifty yards. The middle sight’s the best.”
She squinted through the pin-point
hole, aud lowering the muzzle tbe small¬
est fraction of an inch, she smiled as the
small round dot of light rested on the
very centie of the pocket-flap. At that
instant a dark shadow made an inky
patch on the scarp near her, and looking
up she saw a big buzzard wheeling iu the
air. She smiled again, and hugged the
rifle butt, which fitted closely agaiust
her shoulder. Her right hand went for¬
ward a little. Her slender forefinger,
held straight, smoothed the black trig¬
ger lightly, almost lovingly. The man
straightened up a little. The finger
crooked, there was a sharp crack, and
the man fell upon his face.
Then she pressed home another car¬
tridge and clambered up the rock, lifle
in band. She leaned over the body. It
was motionless.
“You oughter ’a been shot in ths
back, too,” she said, grimly; “but’Lish
ain’t no greaser.”
She moved away, with light step, hug¬
ging the rifle under her arm. And the
buzzard circled a little lower.—Tae Ar¬
gonaut.
Gossip About Tea.
“Americans are not tea drinkers.
\Vhat they drink is Japan tea, which,
in ray opinion, is poor and tasteless. So-
called‘English breakfast tea’ is a brew
which an Englishman is compelled to
come to the United States to taste for the
first time in his life .
“The appointment of ‘tea taster’ was
much sought after in the old days. After
paying a premium of $2500 in London
one was taught the business in a three-
years’apprenticeship in Mmeing Lane
and then sent out to a tea firm in China,
Then came another year’s local appren-
ticeship before being made a regular
buyer. Salaries ran from $150 to $500
a mouth, with handsome quarters and
sumptuous board.
“l’he tea is sampled from ‘muster
cans.’ We examine the drv leaf for ap-
pearanceand weight. Then the tea is
[used and tasted. Just a sharp sip if and
spit, never a swallow. The touch the
liquid on the palate is sufficient to get
the taste and aroma. After that the wet
leaf is examined and scented. That is
the time to detect foreign substances
and adulterations which are impossible
to detect iu the dry state of the leaf. I
have tasted as many as 500 samples in a
morning, sometimes 1000 tastes a day. “tea?
“The proper way of making
There is only one correct rule, all fancy
faddists notwithstanding. That is the
professional rule and applies -to all and
every kmd of tea. The proportion
should be ‘one light teaspoonful for each
person and one for the pot.’ The water
should be poured on the leaf boiling-
boiling, mark you, not merely very hot.
it should then stand for five minutes er-
actlv, not a second more or less, and
; V our tea is ready. We use sand glasses
a the trade to hit the exact moment to
p0 ur eff the tea from the leaves, which
then rapidly commence to- give tannin. ”
aQ Francisco Chronicle
___
uj,. _ 1 f « Y ,
The way in which the name “bureau”
became applied to articles of furniture
intended for literary purposes is rather
It was the custom in the days
when writing was done on parchment
*nd when bookbinding was an expensive
luxury for those who were connected
with literary pursuits to have on their
tables a piece of cloth, of a thick nature,
to prevent the bookbinding receiving any
in j ury. This piece of textile fabric^
originally of wool, bore in France the
name of bureau, and in course of time
that name has attached itself to articles
of furniture which have a space protected
some material lor writing operations,
—Pittsburg Dispatch,
For the first time the Russian soldiers
-ire to be furnished with handkercaiefs
at tne Government's expense.
A BAD RECORD.
bbn.ta.min harrison's administration
UNDER INDICTMENT — EXTRAVA¬
GANCE, CORRUPTION AND UTTER
DISREGARD OF SOLEMN PLEDGES.
The issue iu this campaign .is the Re¬
publican record of the last four years.
It is a very bad record. It is a record
of wrong-domg, of unfair favoritism in
legislation and of scandalous misconduct
in administration; a record of reckless
squandering; of the debauchment of the
public service; of corruption in office
and m getting office, and of shameful
malpractices in the attempt to retain
power regardless of the popular will.
The Administration and the Filty-first
Congress came into power by plain pur¬
chase. Tae Republican Party in 1888
secured its triumph by selling legislation
short.
Abandoning all that it had professed
and all that its leaders, living and dead,
had taught concerning the limitations of
right in tariff legislation, it framj l a
platform in Chicago in which it offered
to monopolists such tariff rates as they
should desire for their enrichment at the
expense of the people, in return for con¬
tributions to the campaign fund.
The offer was accepted. Tae money
was paid, and with it the notorious em¬
bezzler aud corruptionist, Matthew
Quay, with his lieutenant, Dudley, was
set to buy the election. When the funds
ran low John Wanamaker purchased an
option on a Cabinet office by securing an
additional contribution of .$400,000
from the buyers of legislation upon a
margin.
When the Congress thus elected came
together the Republican majority was
too narrow and uncertain to do the work
it had promised. It could not deliver
the legislative goods it had sold to mon¬
opolists without resort to further un¬
fairness and wrong. It proceeded to un¬
seat members of the minority whom the
people had elected and to seat Republi¬
cans whom the people had refused to
elect, and not a man in all the majority
was brave or honest enough to raise a
voice in protest.
When the time came for debate the
majority decided not to permit debate,
lest the truth be made plain to the peo¬
ple.
The rules of the House were revolu¬
tionized. A dictator of peculiarly arbi¬
trary will was placed in the chair wad
suppressed discussion, overrode all con-
siderations House from of deliberative fairness, changed body into thej
a a
mere machine for recording his deter¬
mination, and thus enacted the measures
of monopoly which the party had been
paid in advance to pass.
In two short years this Congress squan¬
dered an enormous surplus, reduced the,
treasury to the sorest straits, laid heavy!
burdens upon the people and upon in¬
dustry and made a determined, though
fortunately a fruitless, effort to rob the
several States of the right of free elec¬
tions in order to secure for the Republi¬
can Party a longer lease of power. It'
sought to buy votes for the future by.
pension legislation of the most reckless
and unjust character, whose shadow
hangs like a pall over the finauces of the,
country and must embarrass its prosper¬
ity for a generation to come.
The Administration thus elected de¬
livered to Wanamaker the Cabinet office:
he had bought, put Tanner into the Pen- 1
,
sion Office, with his exultant exclama¬
tion, “God help the surplus!” not upoaj
his lips, and when his scandalous mis¬
conduct made his removal a aece33ity,
put Riutn there instead, to work still:
larger mischief iu le33 vociferous fash¬
ion, and to fill the office with specula¬
tions, peculations and scandals so shame¬
ful that even the Reed Congress could
not be dragooned into palliating them.
And, in spite of further and more fla¬
grant exposure, Raum is in office still!
The Administration came into power
protesting most solemnly its purpose to
enforce the Civil Service law in letter
and spirit, aud to extend its scope and
influence. It straightway set Clarkson
at work to behead postmasters at a rate
wholly unprecedented. The President
openly farmed out the Federal offices as
spoils to such bosses as Quay and Platt,
and quartered his own relatives anl
partners and chums upon the public ser¬
vice. When the Civil Service Commis¬
sion discovered the most flagrant ani
shameless abuses in Baltimore and urged
the removal of numbers of persons by
name for proved misconduct amounting
to criminality—misconduct perpetrated
in the name and on behalf of the Ad¬
ministration—the whole matter was
jauntily put aside by Wanamaker, and
the President m no way interfered to re¬
deem his pledge or to free himself from
the shame of it all.
Dudley was one of the agents in the
purchase of Mr. Harrison’s election, and
he was found out. Mr. Harrison has
since refused to hold intimate personal
relations with the “Blocks of Five”
statesman, but through his Attorney-
General and former law partner he has
interfered with the administration of
justice in Dudley’s case, has caused a
judge upon the bench to 3uield and pro¬
tect crime, and has since rewarded that
judge for his corrupt subserviency by
elevating him to a higher judicial posi¬
tion.
And within these later months the
country has seen the President organize
the Civil Service iito a political ma¬
chine, and with it compel his own
nomination for a second term.
From the ~e:y ba nning Mr. Har¬
rison ha« u -1 toe appointing power as a
means of securing a second term for
himseif. He j-esorted at the outset t > a
device justly denounced by the eider
President of his name as wrong and
dangerous. He muzzled the press of
his own party so far as criticism of his
administration was concerned. He made
sure of the support of the prominent
Republican newspapers for all his
ambitions by putting their editors under
obligations to himself for high office,
carrying with it pecuniary rewards,
ooliticial advantages or social distinc-
tiou, according to the known need and
desire of each of his beneficiaries.
In certain directions he filled the
foreign service with iacaoable men to
oblige unworthy interests. lie sent
Mizner to Central America, and kept
him there long after the country had
given expression to its disgust and
humiliation with the conduct of an
American Minister who, in the interest
of a speculative syndicate, sacrificed the
honor of the .Nation and the flag.
He seat E pa a and McOreery to Chile,
with results grievously hurtful both to
the good na ue and to the commercial
iuterests of the country.
To Wanamaker he has added Elkins as
a Cabinet officer—Elkins, a political
adventurer aud speculator, who had
grown ricu out of politics without hav¬
ing won resoect enough anywhere to
make his na ne suggestive even of possi.
bilities in connection with honorable of¬
fice. He made Porter the Su perintea-
deut of the Census, knowing him to be
an already discredited manipulator of
statistics, a foreign adventurer destitute
of convictions and in search of a market
for his peculiar abilities, a man at that
very time conducting b a dness as a vul¬
gar wine tout in combin ation with poli¬
tics and ready to placard his alvertise-
neuts in the Executive Mansion itself.
He permitted this man to falsify the cen¬
sus of great States by way of robbing
them of their just representation and
thus increasing the chances of that
party’s success to whose service he had
hired himseif.
It is a sad and shameful story of
pledges broken; of fiscal legislation bar¬
tered for campaign funds; of elections
secured by the purchase ot voters; of
high office mile the subject of vulgar
traffb; of the public service, including
the most honorable places, prostituted to
the promotion of the President’s personal
ambitions; of a court converted into a
sanctuary for the protection of a scoun¬
drel; of judicial subserviency rewarded
with high judicial place; of debate sup¬
pressed iu Congress; of a surplus squau-
dered, and of tne enormous increase of
the people’s tax burdens that the pro¬
ceeds might flow into the coffers of
favored monopolists willing to share
their spoil with the political organization
that made its collection possible.
It is a grievous indictment that is here
made, but it i3 perfectly true and it
covers but a part of the truth. The
specifications will come later iu the
course of tuese letters. The facts will
be given upon which every accusation
rests. The whole record will be laid
bare— that record whic.i the people by
their votes in November are to approve
or condemn.
Aud this is not a mere recalling of
old errors, a recurrence to offenses re¬
pented of. Tne courses that condom i
this Administration have beenccntinuous.
Rvum is still at the head of the Pension
Bureau, and that bureau is not reformed
or purified. Marshall Airey still holds
office iu Baltimore, notwithstanding
Commissioner Roosevelt’s report as to
his organization of the postolfice and
Custom House employes there into a
bind of political ruffians, his use of
them to carry primaries in the Adminis¬
trations interest by wholesale cheating
and by actual physical violence, in which
he personally participated. Neither he
nor Postmaster Johnson nor any of their
subordinates have been removed, though
their conduct was fully set forth and
their removal strongly urged by Mr.
Roosevelt, a Republican member of tne
Civil Service Commission; though some
o.' them, according to Mr. Roosevelt’s
deliberately testified to lies;
though many of them openly confessed
to cheating; though all of them set at
naught the law against political assess¬
ments, and though they all professed
with more or less of candor the cree 1 of
lying, cheating and ballot-box stuffing
which the testimony showed that they
hal practiced.
These men who, as one of them put it
in his testimouv, believe “in doiug any¬
thing to win,” are still in office by grace
of Mr. Wanamaker’a favor and Mr.
Harrison’s neglect of duty. And they
still constitute the Administration ma-
chine in Baltimore and Maryland politics.
In brief, the Administration is what it
has been. It profits still by the practices
for which honest men in both parties
have condemned it in the past. It pro¬
tects its scoundrels and its law-breakers.
It keeps them in office. It uses them in
politics. It sanctions their creeds and
their performances. It sent them and
such a3 them to Minneapolis to nominate
Mr. Harrison lor a second term in spite
of any desire the Republican Party might
have for some other candidate.
It still looks to the monopolies it has
fostered for the money with which to
carry the election. Ia their behalf it
has not oniy made laws, but has neglected
and refused to enforce such laws as there
are on the statute books adverse to them.
The coal conspiracy has been formal
duriDg this Administratior. Withoufrde
or hindrance it has levied a tribute upon
the people in face of the anti-Tru3t law.
That law makes it the imperative duty
of the Attorney-General, through the
District Attorneys, to bring criminal
prosecutions against all the conspirators;
but no District Attorney has moved, and
the Attorney-General weakly protests
that he has no information touching the
conspiracy. it
In the interest of good government
is necessary to chastise official miscon¬
duct by defeat. The men and the party
now in power must be seat into retire-
meat for the public good. Our public
life is in need of disinfection. It is time
to restore legislation to its proper service
of all the people.
The simple facts of these four years’
history constitute the most conclusive
reasons for refusing to intrust this Ad¬
ministration or the party it represents
with a further lease of power.—New
York World.
The Tariff and the Farmer.
A Peasvlvania Democrat writes the
Courier-Journal for information upon
the following points :
“ 1. How does the tariff affect the
grain farmers as compared with the cot-
ton growers?
“2. How are tariff rehates regu-
lated?
“3. What articles of trade, either
produced on the farm or manufactured,
can be sold in the English market
cheaper than in the American market? I
mean Americau goods.”
1- The tariff affects grain farmers
and cotton growers alike in this, that il
robs both. It is true that there is s
tariff on corn, wheat and oats, on the
pretense of protecting them, but they
need no protection, because they are
exported in large q ututities aud sold in
competition with the grain of other
countries. Whenever a com no dity can
be exported iu large quantities, it is be¬
cause it is produced more chea ply here
than it is abroad. In the last fiscal
year we exported 157,030,0 )J bushels of
wheat, worth $161,003,03 0, besides
15,000,000 barrels of fi > u\ w orth?53,-
000,000; also 75,003,000 bushels of
corn, wort.i $-41,500,000, and nearly
3,000,003,03J pounds of cotton, worth
$25S,00G,0JJ. We were enabled to do
this because these commodities were
cheaper in the United States than in the
countries to which they were sent; the
price abroad, less freight, commission
and other charges, being the price re-
ahzed for them hero. It is non sense to
talk of protecting ohoap goods against
tnose that are dearer; by the natural
laws of trale com nodities sack the tnar-
kets where prices are best, Cotton is
on the free list, while wheat is nomi¬
nally protected by a duty of twaicy-liva
ceats a bushel; batcetton is as effectu¬
ally protected by its cheapness as wae.it,
an 1 neither is protected by the tariff.
Where the robbery co.me3 in is iu the
tax on the goods wuich farmers receive
for their grain and cotton, We sent
abroad last year, in round numbers,
$330,000,030 worth of products of agri¬
culture of all kinds. What did we get
in return? Did we get our pay in gold?
Ho; we exported mue gold anfi silver
than we imported. We hal to take
foreign raercuaudise in exchange, and
on all dutiable goo Is the tariff existed
a duty of nearly fifty per cent. Thus,
of the $161,000,000 worth of w heat ex¬
ported, the farmers, if paid iu dutiable
goods, would get back only about $110,-
000,000 wortn, the remainder betng
necessary to pay the duties. It is true
that all imports are not dutiable; but it
is also true that the farmers pay to do¬
mestic manufacturers much higher prices
tor goods obtained from tae n than
similar goods would cost abroad; so
that a reduction of oue-third from the
purchasing power of our agricultural ex¬
ports does not by any means represent
tbe exaction which the tariff makes of
the farmers.
2. When imported mate rial is used
in the manufacture of au ar tide, ninety-
nine per cent, of the duties pu d on such
material is refunded wueu the article is
exported.
3. Many agricultural imple.uen ts, sew
mg machines, aud many other articles,
are sold abroad at lower prices thau at
home. This has been denied, but it hai
been proved beyond question ; aud som*
protectionists admit and defend it ns
proper. The rebate ot duties ou import*
ed material contributes to render this
possible; but it also liappcus iu the case
of articles ou which no rebate is paid,
because high tariffs enable the iu auufao-
turer to exact exce ssivc profits at home,
while abroad, where the tariff gives him
no advantage, he is com polled to take a
reasonable profit.—Gou ri er-Journal.
It Is a Stimulant.
Mr. Mason, one of the Republican
stumpers, declares that “the tariff is not
a tax but a stimulant. ”
A true word.
The tariff stimulates campaign con-
tributions from its beue.iciaries, the pro¬
tected millionaires. The fat-friers know
this.
It stimulated Carnegie to buy castles
in Scotlaud and to set up as a money
lord in England while reduciug wages at
home.
It stimulates manufacturers to shoddy-
ize their goods and raise their prices.
It stimulates the tariff aud the usurer
to collect the debts of its victims.
It puts the stimulant of necessity upon
workingmen to secure the extra cost of
their necessaries due to exactions.
Mr. Mason is only half right. The
tariff is both a tax and a stimulant.
COTTON IN SOUTH CAROLINA.
The Crop is Short, hut the Farmers
will Even Up on Grain.
I rjjKy A . ^Charleston says: . 1 he 0 S. C., ,, pasi news week special has . , b- en of ,
Livorabte for harvesting :n the cotton
^fd, but the damage appears to have
been done already. In the Peedee sec-
.
tion, the , ncLes? . cotton section o. the
sta*e, it is safe to say that the falling off
in tne crop will be at least 40 per
cm pared with la-t yea: 3 figures. Ihi3
is the estimate of expert <otton men who
have been over the ground. The advi-
cesfrom the Piedmont section make the
a: ing off about .j j per cenl.
Under irdinary conditions this rut-
a ok would be gloomy in tbe < xtreme,
1 tfi e,e ar ® compensations winch go
a great way towards evening up the gen-
er a, result. In the first place the farm-
t r-s have geDermiy made good grain crops
an . are better supplied with h- memacb;
provisions than they have been for many
years. In the second place tney have
made this cot’on crop cheaper than any
crop since the war. Those well inform, d
say that the average c >et of this crop
will be fully one cent a pound less than
any crop for many years. In the third
p ace the farmers went m to e l this crop
at six cents a pound and the recent rise
m the staple is calculated to make them
very cheerful despite the prospect of a
shoit yield. Coming ju-t at this time,
before the crop has started well on its
way to market, the advance is of practi-
cal value to the producers and if
higher ranee of values is maintained and
is advanced still higher a- many think is
now very probable, the farmers will re-
ally be better off than if they had m:tde
a full yield.
NUMBER 41.
No. 9.
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