Newspaper Page Text
^FICIAL organ
Ff7AN KLIN COUNTY.
VOL. III. NO. 47.
I r HANK.SGlVING DAY!
I I ffiib ah stations, hearts let and all all give ranks: thanks,
I id .jijnds, along the
the cry coraes up way,
fir what shall we give thanks to-day ?
_ I f ir pence and plenty, busy mills,
«fliecattle on a thousand hills,”
■ yor bursting barns, wherein is store!
■ ■ negcWcn (train, a precious hoard:
(live thanks!
I ft orchards bearing rosy fruit,
■ y c r yielding pod and toothsome root,
I I ,ind all that (tod declare 1 was good
in hill or dale, or field or wood:
f Give thanks! a
| I for water fountains bright and far sweeet and and clear,
a million near.
For gracious streamlets, lakes, andrilli
That flan' from everlasting hills:
Give thanks!
For summer dews and timely frost,
The sun’s bright beams, not one ray lost,
for filling hands to sow the seed
And reap toe harvest, great indeed:
Give thanks!
For hearth and home—love’s altar fires—
For loving children, thoughtful sires;
For tender mothers, geutle wives,
Who fill our hearts an 1 bless ourlives;
Give thanks?
For heaven’s care, life’s journey through,
For health and strength to dare and do,
For ears to hear, for eyes to see
Earth’s beauteous things on lan 1 and sea:
Give thanks!
—M. A. Kidder.
BESSIE’S THANKSGIVING,
BY KATE M. CLEARY.
MOST diffident
and modest
knock it was.
Perhaps because
6 * it was so very
diffident, so very
modest, irritated
J 8 all tbe more tho
S#r 0 I cried. s —
An elderly woman entered the room.
She had a small, pale withered face; a
kind face, though, pleasant, gentle.
She was dressed in a worn dark gown.
The net fichu, crossed over her slender
shoulders, was clasped by an old-fash¬
ioned medallion. /
“To-morrow wili be Thanksgiving-
eve," she said; “I wished to know if I
might prepare for the day after.”
An originally handsome apartment,
this in which the old man sat, and it
had been handsomely furnished, Now
both the room and its belongings bore
the mark of creeping poverty, or ex¬
treme penuriousness. The master of the
house, seated by the center taDle, seemed
to share tbe character of tho room. He,
too, had been haadsome once. Now
he was expressive only of age aud in¬
digence, from the threadbare collar of
his limp dressing-gown to thetipsof his
thin and shabby slippers. growled.
“Prepare wbat?” he
“Why a turkey, sir; or a pie, or—or
a bit of cranberry-sauce, sir—*'
He looked so fierce, her words died in
her throat.
“Turkey! And where do you sup¬
pose I can get the money to spend on
turkey ? Aud pie 1 To make us all sick,
and bring doctors and doctors’ bills
down on me! And,” with a sniff of
disgust, “cranberry sauce—the skinny
stuff! No, Mrs. Dotty. A bit of bacon
and some bread will be good enough for
poor folks like us—good enough.”
His housekeeper, for that was the un¬
enviable position Mrs. Dotty occupied in
Godfrey Kirke’s household, resolved to
make one last appeal.
f
If f. A
rpy:^ I 111 tSs, O
• t '1(1(111 ir~
4
!
i
f//
1
i
“oh, come in, come in!” hecried.
“But I thought perhaps on account of
the child,” she began. 1” he repeated,
“The child—the child
irascibly, “I’m sick of hearing about
her.” Dotty quite
Indignation made Mrs.
bold for once. granddaughter, «•
“She’s your own sir.
That’s what she is.”
“Well, I didn't ask for her, did I? I
never wanted to adopt her. What right
had her mother herself by to marrying make such^ Tom a poor Bar-
hand of die here,
rett, and then come baci to
and leave me her girl? Eh? She s an
expense, I tell you; that’s all. An ex-
Dense he's getting
“The Lord help us, but
worse than everl” murmured the woman,
as, with a bang that was downright dis¬
respectful, she slammed the door behind
her. Bessie!”
“You—you, Miss
She started, as she looked up, aud saw
Bessie Barrett standing so near her. She
was a slim, brown-haired little thing, of
about seventeen. She was clad in an ill-
made gown of coarse maroon cashmere.
Her eyes were large, gray, just now very
sorrowful. Her lashes and brows were
quite black. The delicate features had a
pinched look, and the pretty lips were
paler than should be the lips of one so
young, ..
THE ENTERPRISE.
CARNESVILLE FRANKLIN CO., GA., FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 25.1892.
“Yes; and I—heard.”
“Oh, don’t—don't mind, dear!” said
Mrs. Dotty, soothingly, putting a hand
that looked like wrinkled ivory on the
girl’s arm. “He is just a cross, soured,
lonely old man.”
“I do mind I” Bessie passionately cried.
“Oh, I do! I sha’n’t stay here! I sha’a't
be an expense to him any longer. I will
away somewhere!”
She broke down in a fit of bitter
weeping.
“Now, Miss Bessie, dear, you mustn’t
cry that way; you really mustn't. I
loved your mother before you, and I love
you."
But the poor, little, old comforter was
almost crying herself.
Years before, the Kirkes were the
people of wealth and position in that
part of the country. But one trouble
after another had come upon the house.
First, the wifo of the master died.
Maud, the daughter, married a man
whose only crime was poverty. He was
a frail, scholarly mao, quite unfitted for
a fierce struggle against adverse fortune.
He fell ill and died. A year later his
wife followed him, leaving their child
to its grandfather, Godfrey Kirke. To
the latter had come the final blow when
his only son Robert, his hope and pride,
had run away to sea. Then in the
house, which since the death of the mis¬
tress had been a cheerless and dreary
place, began a rigid reign of miserliness
and consequent misery.
Bessie broke from her friend and ran
upstairs and into her own little bare
room. There was no fire in the grate,
though the day was cold with the pene¬
trating damp of a wind from off the
ocean. She went to the window and
stood there looking out across the flat
brown marshes, to where the waters
tossed, horrid greenish day,” and turbulent. said, with
“A she a
shiver, “but it can’t be worse out than
in.”
She put on a short old Astrahan
jacket, a little felt hat and a pair of
much-mended cloth gloves. Then she
went quickly down and out.
The dusk, the dreary November dusk,
was filhug the room when the old man,
plodding over his accounts, laid down
his pencil and rang the bell. Mrs.
Dotty responded. Mr. Kirke kept but
one other servant (if Mrs. Dotty could
correctly be termed a servant), and she
absolutely refused to enter the protest¬
ing presence of her master.
“Tea!”
“Yes, sir.”
The meek housekeeper withdrew.
Ten minutes later she brought in a tray
on which were tea, bread, butter, two
cups, two saucers and two plates. Mr.
Kirke pouted out his tea, shook a little
of the sugar he was about to use back in
the old silver bowl, added carefully a
few drops of milk and cut a slice of
bread.
“Butter has gone up three cents in the
last week,” he said. “I can’t afford to
use butter.”
So he munched his bread dry, with a
sense of exaltation in his self-imposed
peuauce. He would not open the
poorhouse-door for himself by using but-
ter. But. somehow, the rank tea tasted
ranker than usual. Surely the bread
was sour. Aud the gloom outside the
small circle that the lamplight illumined
seemed singularly dense, What was
wrong? What was missing? Wbat was
different? He paused, his hand falling
by his side. The child--as he and Mrs.
Dotty had always called her—the child
was not here. She used to slip in so
quietly, take her seat, and when her
meager supper was over, glide away just
as softly. Yes, little as he noticed her,
she was generally there. He rang the
bell
“Where is she?” he asked Mrs. Dotty, head.
when she popped in her mild old
There was no need to particularize. searching Mrs. look
Dotty cast a swift,
arourd.
“Isn’t she here?”
Without waiting for a reply, she
turned and ran up the stairs to Bessie’s
room. There she knocked. No
answer. She opened the door, went in.
The room was descended empty. the stairs.
Hastily she
“Shs is not in, sir.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
Impatiently Godfrey Kirke pushed his
chair back from the table.
“You ought to know; it’s your busi¬
ness to know. But it doesn’t matter—
it doesn’t matter in the least.”
Down to Hanna in the kitchen went
Mrs. Dotty. Miss Bessie*
«*Did you see westward couple
“Yes’m. Passia’ a
of hours ag3—yes’m."
“Ohi” relieved sigh.
Mrs. Dotty breathed a
Bessie had probably gone to Rose Dever’s
house. The Devers lived almost a mile
away. As a storm was blowing up she
would most likely stay there over night.
About ten o’clock Mr. Kirke’s bell
again tingled out. Again Mrs. Dotty
appeared before him.
“Has the child come in?”
“No, sir.” out?" (
“Do you know why she went
“I suspect, sir."
“Well, speak up.” conversation to¬
“She overheard our
day.” it?"
“What of
“Nothing of it,” with a very angry
flash from very faded eyes, “except that
she vowed she would be an expense to
you no longer.” A
“She did, eh?”
“She did.” won’t!’
“Well,” grimly, “I hope she
The child had a sulky fit. She was
probably at the house of some neighbor. had
She would return when her tantrum
passed off. All this he told himself.
Still he sat in his lonely room till long
after midnight, listening, listening.
When he finally went to bed it was to
roll and moan till daylight, in the vague
wretchedness of unhappy dreams.
Noon— the noon before Thanksgiving
eTC) _came, went. Bessie did not re¬
turn. Toward
All forenoon it rained. even¬
ing tbe rain ceased, and a fog, a chill,
Equal Rights to all, Special Privileges to None.
smoky, blinding fog, began to creep up
from the Atlantic.
“If you don't mind," said Mrs. Dotty,
making her appearance with a shawl over
her head, “I’ll just run over to Dovers’
and see' what is keeping Miss Bessie.”
“Do!” he answered.
She had spoken as if the distance were
not worth considering, but it was quite a
journey for her. When she returned she
looked white and scared.
“She isn’t there —hnsn’t been.”
“Hark!” said Godfrey Kirke, holding
up one loan hand.
“That is only the carrier with the
flour.”
“Aalc him if he has seen her?”
Mrs. Dotty went into the hall. Almost
instantly she roturned.
“He has not. He says there is the
body of a young woman at the town
morgue. ”
“W hat!”
Godfrey Kirke leaped from his chair.
“He says that the body of a young girl
was found in the East Branch to-day.”
Godfrey Kirke sank back in bis seat.
Mrs. Dotty smiled a hard little smilo to
herself as she closed the door and went
away. Sue knew how many friends
Bessie had. She shrewdly suspected if
she were not found at one place she
would be at auother; and she was malici¬
ously and pleasantly conscious that she
had given the hard-hearted old man a
genuine scare. where she had left
Long the latter sat
him. Thinking. For the first time in
years he was thinking, sadly, seriously,
solemnly. Thanksgiving-eve! be In and his
wife’s time the house used to gay
cheerful on that night, so filled with com¬
fort and bright anticipations, so odorous
with the homely fragrance of good things
in the kitchen, so delightfully merry with
the brisk bustle attendant on the mor¬
row’s festivity. Now it was desolate,
dreary, darksome with depressing and
unutterable gloom. Whose fault was it?
His! decided Godfrey Kirke, as savagely
relentless to himself in this moment as
he would have been to another. His l
•v.rj
-N'
o
0
~n-
c.
he had the weapon in his hand.
when his devoted wife had drooped and
died under his ever-increasing arrogance,
dictation. His! when Maud married the
first man who offered himself, to escapo
from her father’s pretty rule. His 1 when
Robert ran away to escape the narrow
obligations and unjust restrictions laid
upon’him. His! when the child his
dead daughter had left him could no
longer endure his brutality, or accept
from him the scant support he so grud¬
gingly gave, His fault—all his! In
those lonely hours the whole relentless
tiuth dawned upon him, as such truths
will dawn, in most bitter brilliance. He
dropped his head ou his hands with a
° D
He looked around the dim, shabby
room. He looked at the dying fire in
the grate. He wondered of what use
would be to him now his twenty-thou-
sand in bonds, his eight hundred acres
of meadow land, the money he had out
at interest He rose in a dazed kind of
wa? a shadowy purpose taking definite-
ness’in his mind. He wished wished—but he had
been better to Besse; he
what was the use of wishing now? There
could be but one satisfactory answer to
all his self-condemnation. A shot from
the revolver in the drawer yonder,that he
had always kept in readiness for possible
burglars, H e rose. He moved toward
the table. His figure cast a fantastic
shadow on the wall, The tears were
streaming down his cheeks, There
might be thanksgiving for his death,
though there could never have been any
for his life.
Hark! hand. He
He had the weapon in his
started nervously, Was that Bessie’s
voice? He turned, dropping the revolver
with a clatter. Ye3, there she was, not
three feet away, fresh, fair, damp, smil-
mg. the queerest thing,” she said,
“It is spoke, “I
coming toward him as she
felt—badly—yesterday, and I went over
to Mrs. Farnham’s to see if she could get
me work. I met Mrs. Nelson, and she
asked me to go home with her. Dicky
was iff. and she wanted me to stay over
night. She sent you a note, At least
she sent the boy with it, but he lost it,
and only told her so this afternoon. As
soon as I knew that I started home
aione—although Dicky «vas no better. ”
“Yes?” said Godfrey Kirke. He was
listening with an unusual degree of in¬
terest. when I almost
“And to-night, quite two miles was
here, (Nelsons’ is in the fog.” away,
you know), I got lost
Her grandfather regarded her m
amazement. What made he pate cheeks
so bright? What excitement had
blackened her gray eyes? who coming
“And—a gentleman was
here found me, and—and brought me
home. Please thank him, grandpa.
Here he is!”
With an incredulous, gasptug cry,
Godfrey Kirke retreated, as a big brown,
muscular fellow came dashing in from
the hall.
“Robert!”
“Father!” each other
Then they were clasped in s
arms. the for good,
“I’m back from sea
father. Aud I chanced to find my little
niece Bessie lost out there in the fog. A
young lady, I vow! And I was think¬
ing of her as a mere baby yet! Just
think! She tells me Charlie Nelson
wants her—”
“No? Well, Charlie is a fine fellow.
He can have her—a year from to-day."
So now you kuow why the Kirke
homestead is dazzling with lights and
flowers, and why it resounds with laugh¬
ter this Thanksgiving; why old Godfrey
»i
«•
&
J!
k \
I"
o-o
“ROBERTI" “FATHER!”
wears a brann-new suit, and a flower in
his buttonhole; why Robert, in his
rightful place, looked so proud and
pleased; why dear,busy little Mrs.Dotty
beams benignly; why Bessie, gowned in
snowy, shining silk, thinks this is a
lovely old world after all; why Charlie
Nelson is so blessedly content, aud why
in each and every heart reigns supreme
Thanksgiving.—The Ledger.
Thanksgiving Roast Tig.
Take a choice fat pig six weeks old,
not younger, though it may be a little
older. Have it carefully killed aud
dressed, and thoroughly washed. Trim
out carefully with a sharp, narrow-bladed
knife the inside of tbe mouth aud ears,
cut out the tongue and chop off the end
of the snout. Rub the pig well with a
mixture of salt, pepper and pounded
sage, and sprinkle it rather liberally with
red pepper, and a dash outside, too.
Make a rich stuffing of bread crumbs
—corn bread stuffing is de rigeur lor
pig, though you can put half of one and
half of the other inside of Mr. Piggy if
somebody iusists on loaf bread stuffing.
If you use corn bread, have a thick, rich
pone of bread baked, and crumble it as
soon as it is cool enough to handle, sea¬
son it highly with black and red pepper,
sage, thyme, savory marjoram, minced
onion—just enough to flavor it, and
plenty of fresh butter; moisten it well
with stock, cream, or eveu hot water.
Stuff the pig well and sew it up closely.
If you have a tin roaster and open fire,
the pig will be roasted by that much
better.' If you have not, put the pig in
a long pan and set it in the oven, and
leave the stove door open until the pig
begins to cook, gradually closing tho
poor, so that the copking wili not be
done too fast. The pig must be well
dredged with flour when putin the pan.
Mix some flour and butter together in a
plate, and pour about a quart of hot
water in the pan with the pig when it is
put on the fire. Have a larding-mop in
the plate of flour nnd butter, and mop
tbe pig frequently with the mixture
while it is roasting. about
If a roaster is used, set it two
feet from the fire at first, but continue
to move it nearer and nearer as the pig
cooks. Baste it frequently with the
water in the pan betweenwhiles of mop-
ping with flour and butter.
To be sure tho pig is done, thrust a
skewer through the thickest part of him;
if no pink or reddish juice oozes out it
is done, and ought to be a rich brown
ail over. When the pig is done pour
the gravy in a saucepan and cook it
sufficiently. Thus wili not be necessary
if the pig was cooked in the stove oven
The pig’s liver may be boiled in well
salted water, pounded up, aud added to
the gravy, which should be very savory
and plentiful. should be invariably served
The pig
with baked sweet potatoes and plenty of
good pickle and sauce, either mushroom
or green pepper catsup, for despite his
toothsomeness, roast pig is not very safe
eating without plenty of red pepper.—
Good Housekeeper.
An Informal R qtast.
“I suppose," said Mrs. Brown, “you
would like me to wear a new dress at
this Thanksgiving dinner you arc going
to give?" afford it,” growled old Brown.
“Can’t
“AlS long as you have the turkey well
dressed you will pass muster.”—Judge.
The Thanksgiving Turkey.
As Tbanksgivinz Day walks down this w
The strutting turkey is ill at ease;
“I’m poor as tha turkey of Job,” says ho
“Tough and unfit to eat, you see;
I gobble no more of my should pedigree, gobble
Lest some poor fellow me;
And a turkey euzzard I think I’ll b\
For the present, if you please.” Republican.
—Binghamton
Cause for Thanksgiving.
Sunday-school Teacher — “ Willie,
have you had anything during the week
to be especially thankful for?"
Willie—“Yes’m, Johnny Podgers
sprained his wrist and I licked him for
the first time yesterday."—-Burlington
Free Press.
A Thought For the Season.
He in whose store ot blessings there may b
Enough, and yet gentle to spare, charity,
Bestowing, with a
Upon the poor a snare. gifts provide
By all the gladness that his
Will have his own thanksgiving multiplied.
Tommy’s Dream on Thanksgiving b’igh
$ m
E! •f* 9
ALLIANCE LITERATURE.
Matters of Moment Wliicti Concern tie
Order and Its Members.
_
The Grange is a big thing yet, ts where
been issued
***
The interests of the cotton farmer in
tho South and the grain farmer and sil-
vt*r miuer in the West are identical.
Don't forget that.
***
„„ 07 cent . of , t the .
Forty-two years tlieir ago homes. per Today ouly
people ownod fortuuato. The usurer
32 per cent are bo
has the difference.
***
The farm mortgages amount to $245,-
000,000 in Kansas; in Illinois, $380,000,- in Mis¬
000; in Iowa, $222,000,000, aud
souri, $214,000,000, an aggregate of over
$1,000,000,000 in four states.
***
About 8,000,000 bales of cotton are
now raised annually. Last year 40,000,-
000 w ere sold on the New York cotton
exchange, just five times as much as
raised. Now don’t you want a bill to
prevent dealing in futures passed?
***
The friends of reform know that edu¬
cation is required. The best and only
way to do this is to get every person to
read papers that are fearless and out¬
spoken. Never neglect an opportunity read.
to persuado some fellow man to
*
* *
The sympathy of the Alliance will be
freely tendered Marion Butler, of North
Carolina, in his loss by fire of the Cau¬
casian plant and office. No man has done
mightier work, or abler work than Ma-
rioa Butler for the reform cause. May
his paper rise, Phoenix like, and its ed¬
itor yet wear a toga in the United States
Senate.—Progressive Farmer.
The commanding general of tho United
States army, in his annual report, recom¬
mends the increase of Congressional ap¬
propriations for the militia from $80,000
to $1,000,000. One million! Thero is end¬
less scope for serious thought in this sig¬
nificant recommendation. Tho Knights
of Labor propose to protest against the
passage of any such bill or amendment
by Congress, snd it behooves other labor
organizations to do likewise.
*
* *
Shake hands, brethren, and make up.
The fight is over, the smoke is fast clear¬
ing away, aDd tho country has not been
sunk in tho bottomless pit. The lies
told on both sides were campaign lies
and the campaign is over. Let ns lay
aside our political prejudices, demands stand
shoulder to shoulder for the
and see if we cannot convert the whole
country to them before the interested next political in
contest. The men most
keeping us divided are not our best
friends, and when we do stand togeth¬
er in harmony, determined upon a uni¬
ted line of action, the rascals tremble in
their boots. All right, brethren, let’s
shake.—Exchange.
4**
PERTINENT QUESTIONS ON THE CURRENCY.
1. Is it not a fact that the national
bank circulation, as at present arranged,
is a temporary expedient for which in a
relative short time some substitute must
be found?
2. Does not the fact that the circula¬
tion of national bank currency, which
was more than $293,000,000 in 1882 and
and is now but $147,000,000, indicate
that the time has come for definitely
considering what this substitute shall
be?
3. Are there any other means of pro¬
viding a substitute but these: permitting
State banks to undertake the business,
creating a great United States bank
something like the bank of England, United or
granting the unique right to tho
States Treasury of muting paper money?
—Boston Heruld.
*
* A
ALLIANCE DEMANDS.
The Farmers’ Alliance of Indiana,
composing the bulk of the neignborhood people’s par of
ty, which cast in the
40,000 votes in the presidential of resolutions election
has adopted demands a series which it will make em¬
bodying of the
upon tho next legislature state.
They ask for such a revision of the tax
l..w as will transfer to capitalists taxation; and cor¬
porations their just burden of
the enactment of a salary law that will
place the compensation of public offi¬
cers on a level with the compensation
that similar services will command in the
Open market; a law requiring all securi¬
ties to be stamped by the assessors and
rendering them void otherwise; de¬
nouncing the legislation of 1891 which
created one hundred now offices; de¬
manding the repeal of the law of 1891
which increased the state’s indebtedness
$1,400,000; demanding the abolition of
the free pass system on railways; de¬
manding tho suppression of liquor traffic,
and demanding such legislation as will
prevent the alleged wholesale robbery of
the state school fund by a system of falso
enumeration.
***
COTTON.
The time has at last arrived when in¬
telligent co-operation be made to between produee cotton good
planters results. may The short of the present
crop de¬
year is sure to make the spinning
mand completely exhaust the surplus,
both domestic and abroad, and as a con-
ssxuence insure that next year the season
will open, with spinners, as well as spec¬
ulators and dealers, short on cotton, and
a very little intelligent co-operation enable upon
the part of the producer should
him to keep them short throughout higher tho
seasoD, thereby guaranteeing for
prices. Now is the time some
good foundation work along this line by
the Supreme Council. A competent in hand
committee to take the matter
early in tbo session could, no doubt,
make a rep .rt that would be of great
value. This is a subject of great pecuni¬
ary interest to the membership the in condi¬ the
South, and never before have
tions been so favorable. The trouble
with pearly all such action is that the
J cotton effort is must delayed go up too some long. next It year seems at that all
! events, and if, while it is in upward mo-
> tion a little can bo added to that ten -
dooc y. th ° ciIurt will bo wul1 rewatded -
**.
A DELEGATE.
What is the object for which a dele-
Kei^Rte^Effi tfoT^esSM
A. C ' Sfj^sr 11 ins: V a
h080 P^t , Wong to the order i there-
fore . he should strive to benefit those
present at the meeting. Very do good, but
those present at the meeting not con-
st.tute the whole order; in fact they on-
ly constitute about one twenty thous-
». rights nd ‘ h F to ar all ‘°. is f " one ,e orde of , r f ho “"V tenets 8 of !\“ the al
order, it must be plain that thosei present
are only entitled to consideration
in that tho delegate proportion. , . under That , obliga- is ,,, 0
say, is
tions to consider the wants and
necessities of those present at the meet¬
ing, certainly, but for every minute of
time he puts in at that meeting working
for his own or some otkor delegate’s per¬
sonal interests, ho should put in 19,01)8
minutes working for the personal inter¬
ests of the brother at home who is pick¬
ing cotton, thrashing, plowing, grind will etc.
The man who has an ax to try
to get up strifes and discord, try to cen¬
ter interest on those present and stir up
prejudice. The true friend of tho order
will forget the personality of those pres¬
ent—especially if they differ on other
things—and concentrate effort on meas¬
ures calculated to build up and strengthen
the order aud thereby benefit the millions
now working and waiting at home.—
National Economist.
***
PENNSYLVANIA STATE ALLIANCE.
The annual council of the Pennsylva¬
nia State Farmers Alliance and Industrial
Union, held at Williamsport, Pa., had
three times the attendance of delegates
of a year ago. The reports from every
section of the state were most
satisfactory. Tho uorthern and
western counties returned tho largest
growth. Every officer of last year was
rc-elected by acclamation. The execu¬
tive board was enlarged to six members,
in order that all quarters of tho state
should be fully represented.
During tho session the State Scc-
retary of ihe Farmers Alliance and
Agricultural School appeared, and
before bis retirement arrangements
were made, satisfactory to all interested,
whereby the Farmers Alliance and Agri¬
cultural School of Pennsylvania will be
merged with the Farmers Alliance and
Industrial Union. A letter wns also re¬
ceived from the Sfale secretary of the
Farmers League looking to merging with
the Farmers Alliance and Industrial
Union. This will do doubt be accom¬
plished during the year, and all three
bodies will act os one, under the Far¬
mers Alliance and Industrial Union. Of
the important business transacted were
marked amendm"iits to the State consti¬
tution, the admitting to membership with and
office of ladies on the same plane
men, and a glowing tribute to the mem¬
ory of our late National President, Broth¬
er L. L. Polk.
***
CHANGE THE PROGRAMME.
It is right for farmers to improve their
methods. Improve your land, your
stock and your buildings. Educate yourself your
children, if you can. Better
mentally and morally. Do all that and
more, if you can.
But it is time to change the programme. the
Tho farmers of America have built
greatest republic on earth in a little over
one hundred years. You have furnished
the meanB to build magnificent cities,
tor,ns, schools and churches. The roar
of the many factories would be silent wore
it not for your muscle. The rushing
trains that glide over thousands of miles
of shining steel are your handiwork. The
magnificent residence of the millionaire
would stiff be natural granite boulders,
clay and trees without your sweat. No
one can travel a thousand miles on tho
American continent and Bay with truth
that tho farmers have not done remarka¬
bly well.
Grant that the above is just as it
should be, then should tho farmers not
have their day ? Change your programme.
You have done enough for others, now
look out for Katie and the children.
Bee to it that your children are educated.
Many of you have voted for protection
to tho many faciories, now vote for indus¬ pro¬
tection to your own languishing
try. You have built the railroads, now
let them live on legitimate prices. Bee
that they get only their share. Your la¬ in
bor has built the splendid churches
the city. Now build your country church
and pay your pastor. Your labor has
built the stately city mansion, now build
or improve your own home. The facto¬
ries and trades-people have built up their
business by pulling down the prices of
your farm products goods. and putting it that up this the
price of their Bee to
is divided more equally; ask them to
“live and let live.”
*
* *
AMERICAN FEDERATION OF J,ABOIl.
The American Federation of Labor has
issued a caff for the twelfth annual meet¬
ing of the Trades Unions of the country
to lie he'd at Philadelphia, December
12'h, next. Tho call, among other things
g(l ., g .
“Never in the history of the libor
inovcment of America have important
events followed on the heels of each
other as nave beeu witnessed within the
past few months, nor at any time have
(he fortitude, courage and sincerity of
the wage-workers been more thoroughly
tested. Tbe power of concentrated and
corporate wealth has been exerted to a
degree never before attempted to toiler, over-
awe, intimidate and crush the
Private standing armies, brought in to
fasten injustice upon laboi at Homestead;
the militia of the State at Buffalo; the
standing army of the United States at
Coeur d’Alene, are fresh incidents in the
memories of ajl, as well as the violation
of faith at Tennessee and in other parts
throughout our country. organized
The efforts of the wage-
workers to seek amelioration in the con-
dition of the wealth-producers evolutionary methods oi cur
country by gradual with the
nnd to keep pace
■"1 the concentration of wealth is nou -J met
in a spirit of fairness, but opposed and
antagonized as if our movement were
OFFICIAL OKGAN
-or TECJEI—
FRANKLIN COUNTY ALLIANCE-
$1.00 PER YEAR.
destructive rather than constructive, that
we were enemies instead of the friends of
the people.
Evety element and force at tW com¬
mand of the strained capitalist in class is being humiliate, util¬
ized and order to
defeat and destroy our unions. TtMhope • *
wui;,rove more doci'e 6 ":mi sUveTke
'
-
circumstances, it becomes our duty to
deniODgtrat0 t0 tho W()rld lhat tl .ere is
Mlflic , cut mau J , co K witbitl tho
breagt , of tho ilors to d ecltire tbeir uu .
aUorabi d inalionable right ” to stru(f f .
* lo fcarleMl J in lbo coat cat for bett r
oudjtioug . tbo face of lho and oppogi .
tion now made, lot us but falter wo
flro ]ogt for a „ timg _ 0u tbe other band)
jf tve manifest our knowlolce as to the
best course to pursue to defend, prot ect
and advance our rights and interests, as
W ell as the earnestness and manliness to
proclaim and retain them, we shall se¬
cure a corresponding friends and degree enemies, of respeotof and
both our a
greater share of success will attend our
efforts.
At uo time shall we have a hotter op¬
portunity to show these characteristics
than at the coming convention of the
American Federation of Labor. We
therefore urgently impress entitled upon tho
minds of all trade unionists to
representation to send their full quota of
delegates to counsel and advise with us
upon such action best calculated to prove
the work of improved conditions and
final emancipation. memories of heroism and true
The no¬
bility engendered by tho historic grounds
uppn which wo shall meet, Independ¬
ence Hall, will beyond doubt inspire us
to greater efforts than ever before.
THE LABOR WORLD.
Bweoish women often work os farm la¬
borers.
Union bricklayers work now eight hours
per (lay In Hoiton.
An average of three British seamen lose
their lives every day by drowning.
The Northumberland (England) colliers
have aceopte I a five per cent., reduction in
tlieir waxes.
Twelve thousand shipbuilders in Belfast,
Ireland, h ive had tlieir wages reduced fif¬
teen per cent.
The tufa) amount of bonds given by the
arrested strikers at Homestead, Penn., isfar
above 1800,000.
The union clerks employed in Sf. Louis
(Mo.) clothing, furnishing and hat stores all. ,
wear union badges.
Over 55,000 operatives inaugurate! the
great strike in England's cotton mills against
a five per cent, reduction.
New Orleans (La) industrial affairs
were placed in a badly crippled condition on
account of the general strike.
A LARGE proportion of tbe manufactured
goods of Russia is made in the homes of the
laborers instead of in factories.
In Great Britain it is Illegal now for to em-
ploy girls in shops under eighteeu more
than seventy-four hours a week, and shop¬
keepers who disobey tbo law are liable to be
fined.
Along tbo Monongohela Valley.in involved Pennsyl¬
vania, the leadersof the 0000 miners
in the strike asserte I that, rise or no rise in
the river, there would be nogoiug buck to
work unless at the 3>£ cent rute.
Government agents, who have inter¬
viewed 17,127 won. mg women in twenty-two
of our large cities, announce tho average
wages for a day ot ten hours or more to be
|5.5l per week, or loss than ninety-two cents
per day.
Reports front industrial centres of Ger¬
many nil point to the existence of depression
in trade except in a few brandies of the tex¬
tile industries, which are doing an active
business on large orders from England and
America,
Tub manufacturers of Fall River, Mass.,
have increased wages of weavers to twenty?
one cents per cut and all other departments
in proportion. This is practically au ad-... -
vance of about seven per cent,, and restores
wages to tho standard of 1884,
The different counties in Scotland pay
shepherds different warns. The range of
prices paid run Iro n *3.7.1 to $6.50 per week,
according to ability. In the Highlands wethers, in a
mixed stock, including ewes 100) and 1400; if a
shepherd can manage from to
only ewes a shepherd should have 200 or 800
less, witli an assistant at landing time.
K om the annual report of the Brother -
hoo i of Railroad Trainmen it appears that
in 1801 the receipts were 1441,204. beneficiary and *441,-
221 were disbursed from the
lund. The receipts l’or the general fund
amounted lo *00,782.17 and the expenditures
were *00,261,11. The total receints were
*581,107.12 and the expenditures *554,141.60.
There is a balanos on hand at present of
about *40,000 and the organization has about
25, it 0 members.
About Needles.
The needle is one of the most ancient
Implements have record. or instruments The old-time of which needles we
any they
were unlike the present luxury, hav- .
Ing been made of wood, bronze, bone,
etc., and without eyes, a circular depres-
ilon at the blunt enable end it having been so
fastened as to to carry the
thread. Piiny describes the needles of
bronze which were used by the ancient
Greeks nnd Romans; and, since his day,
similar instruments have been found in
comparative abundance both at Hercu¬
laneum and Pompeii. The first account
of the manufacture of “white iron,” or
steel needles, says that they were made
at Nuremberg, in 1400; and, .
while the exact date is in doubt,
they are said to have been
made in Britain as early as 1545. Th<s .
account further adds that the first nee¬
dles manufactured in England were died.
made by a Spanish African, who his
without having taught anyone indus- art.
During the reign of Elizabeth the
try was revived, and, strange to say, also
by a foreigner—a native of India. The
forerunner of the present great Redditch
needle manufactory was established by
Christopher Greening and a Mr. Damer,
<n 1650. Many successful attempts were
made to bring out the “drilled eye” nee-
die before it was finally introduced m
1826. Two years later the “burnishing
machine,” with which the eyes of nee-
31es are highly polished, was completed,
[n thia machine which is very simple,
the needles are all strung on a wire,
which revolves rapuliy, thereby eye.—[St. impart-
ng a beautiful finish tv the
Louis Republic. .___
A remarkable meteor passed over Bir-
mingbam, Ala., about 5 o’c oc.c a lew after-
three feet wide. The track it
( e f t was serpentine in minutes. shape, and At remained the spot
right for fully five southwest
where it disappeared in the a
1 •StfSSSrtiSS “■
--------- —
The British Government hasT»u«d an £
^ ortat,0 ° ° £