Newspaper Page Text
PICKENS COUNTY HERALD
VOL. IV.
To Sleep.
O winged sleep, dear son of drowsy night
And holy silence, boru upon a hill
And cradled iu the crimson poppies till
Thy infant heart was full of all delight!
0 sleep, thou lauguid chaser of the light,
Come to me now on pinions broad and still
And crown my brow with kisses sweet,
and thrill
My restless brain with shadows exquisite,
Breathe on mine eyes with influences kind,
Shielding my head upon your balmy
breast,
Till I shall lie, like ardent Cupid, blind
And sunk into an ecstacy of rest,
Then let draw near lue, borne upon the
wind,
Sweet visions of true love and all things
blest.
—(From the Persian.
The Hero of the Stampede.
BY THOMAS P. MONTFOKT.
In tho year 18— I was employed as
a herder at Merrill’s ranch, out in
Western Kansas. Ours was one of
the most extensive ranches in the
State, and there was quite a little
army of men and boys in connection
with it. One of the duties with which
we were charged was that of keeping
the range, which was government
land, free of settlers.
“When you see a covered wagon,”
said our manager, “keep your eyes on
it, and take care that it don’t stop on
our grazing lands.”
“But suppose,” questioned one,
“the owner of a wagon should [refuse
to move on. Then what are we to
do?”
“I guess there’s euough of us here,”
replied the manager, “to see that he
does move. If any man should be
foolhardy enough to squat here after
being noiilicd not to do so, it will be
our business to rout him out. We’U
kill his liorses, burn his wagon, and,
if lie’s very obstreperous, we’ll bang
him a little. Our instructions from
Mr. Morrill are to keep this range
alear of settlers, and, we’ve got to do
it or else lose our jobs.
I did not look with favor on this ar¬
rangement, and neither did the ma¬
jority of the herders. Our sympathies
were with the poor home-seekers, and
we knew that both the law and justice
gave them tho right to own the land
of which our range was composed.
However, we said nothing- at tho timo,
but continued atout our duties.
During the next month several
wagons drove across our range, but
none of them halted within our limits
Then one day, late in the afternoon,
there came an old canvas-covered
wagon, dilapidated to (lie last degree,
drawn by a span of poor, bony horses
that could scarcely more than creep.
I saw the poor outfit crawling along
the edge of the timber and I watched
it until 1 saw it halt at a point less
than a fourth of a mile from the ranch.
I saw a man come out of the wagon,
and after looking about for a minute
or so, proceed to unhitch his team and
turn them out tc graze. I felt it my
duty to warn him to move on, so I
rode down to tho wagon for that pur¬
pose. Tho man was a tall, th:n f
sickly-looking person whose surround¬
ings proclaimed him a victim of ex¬
treme poverty. I was touched by his
appearance, and as gently as I could,
I informed him of tho necessity of
immediately vacating the spot. As I
spoke his pale, sharp*fea(ures lighted
up witli the fire of indignation, and in
reijly he said:
“I’ve made my last move, unless
I’m driven by force. I’ve been run
about from place to place by the cat¬
tlemen tilt I’ve got nothing left, and
I’m tired if it. This land is open for
settlement and I have a right to a
claim here, and I propose to have it.”
“But you can’t hold it,” I reasoned.
“They’ll burn your wngon and kill
your horses.”
“Just let them try it,” he replied,
laying his hand on a pistol which hung
at his aide. “I’ve gat this left, and
I’m desperate euough to use it. Some
of them wouldn’t burn any more
wagons.”
I reasoned with the man as best I
could, but he refused to move on, and
at last I turned away from him hoping
hiB presence might uot be noticed that
evening by any of our people, and
that by the following morning he
might see the wisdom of moving on.
I had only gone a short distance
when I met a little boy running across
the prairie, and as ho stopped to ad¬
mire my gaudy “cowboy” attire and
trappings, 1 spoke to him aud askel
his name-
“We Seek the Reward of Honest Labor/’
JASPER, PICKENS COUN.TY, GA • * THURSDAY. JUNE 25, 1894.
“I’m Johnnio Merrill,” he answered,
“Me’n my pa just came down here to-
day, an’ my pa he’s gone to look at
the cattle an’ I’m goin’ down thero to
that wagon. My pa ho owns this
ranch, you know, an’ lie let mo come
down here with him this time.”
“I had not gone far, aftor leaving
the boy, when I met a man cantering
along on horseback, and as he was a
stranger, and well dressed, 1 rightly
judged that he was Mr. Merrill. Just
as we met ho happened to notice the
old wagon, and reining in his horse,
he said:
“What is that over there by the
timber?”
“A home-seeker,” I repliod.
“Oh, a squatter, eh? Well, go over
and tell him to move on.”
“I’ve already warned him," I
answered.
“Is ho going away, then?”
“I don’t know. He is very poor,
and is very Bick, but I think he’ll go
tomorrow."
Mr. Merrill saw at once that I was
attempting to screen the man, and
with a flash of anger he said:
“You go down and tell the boys
that I said that squatter must not be
there at sundown. Do you under¬
stand me?”
“I do," said I, as I turned away.
I rode leisurely down iu the direc¬
tion of the herd and I found the Boys
working the cattle back toward the
ranch.
“There’s goin’ to be a storm,” old
Ike Sampson announced as I rode up.
“Tiiese blamed cattle air tho most
restless an’ oneasy critters I ever see,
au’ that’s a shore sign somethin’ is
brewin’ in tho air. For a cent tho
whole pack of ’om ’ud go on a stam¬
pede. ”
I informed old Ike, who was the
leader among tho “boys,” of what
Merrill had said, and tho whole force
gathered around to listen. I also told
of ' the squatter.
Oid Ike scratched his head for a mo¬
ment, then slowly said:
“Wal, hero’s a nice mess, shore.
I’m agin runuin’ them settlers off in
any seclx way, but I reckon wo’ll liaft
to do it. Orders is orders, an’ we’vo
got to obey or else hunt another job.”
“That’s a fact,” replied Jabe Mor-
gan. “The feller has got to go, or
else we’ve got to go.”
“Yep,” agreed Ike. “That’s the
size an’ shape of it. But, by gum, it
mayn’t be no easy matter to trot that
chap oft’. He ’pears sorter game, an’
like enough lie’ll pump some of us
full of lead.”
The “boys” were still discussing
the matter, when before we were
hardly aware of it the whole herd
broke into a stampede and went crash¬
ing away, hugging close to the timber
and making the very earth tremble be¬
neath tiieir foet. Directly toward the
squatter’s wagon they went, and it
was a sight to sicken ono when he
looked upon that vast sea of cattle and
realized how irresistible was the mad
rush, and how defenseless was anyone
who stood iu the tvay. I knew that
the old wagon and its contents would
be literally blotted out of existence,
and I knew no means of escape for
the poor squatter.
Merrill saw the stampede and came
riding down towards us, hut all at
once lie stopped as if rooted to tho
ground. IIo was near me, and I saw
a deathly whiteness come to his face
while lie stared fixedly in the direction
of the wagou. I looked, too, and at a
glance I comprehended it all. Mer¬
rill’s little boy had evidently started
away from the wagon, and having
gone a dozen yards or so, had stopped
directly in the track of the cattle. He
stood gazing at the advancing herd,
making no effort to escape, and it
seemed inevitable that he must be
trampled to death in auotlicr minute.
To attempt the child’s rescue was
useless, for we were near a half mile
away from him while the cattle were
but a few yards, and long before we
could have reached him the mad herd
would have swept by.
“My God, men,” Merrill cried,
“can’t something bo done to save my
child? It’s awful, awful!”
On and oil swept the herd. Less
than twenty steps lay between the
child and destruction. We held our
breath and waited in terrible suspense.
Merrill covered his eyes and groaned
in the deepest anguish. A moment
passed. Then a murmur of applause
rau throughout our circle—a murmur
scarcely more than a whisper. Another
moment of suspense, then a shout,
long, loud, anil hearty. The child
was safe.
The squatter had come around the
wagon, and at tho risk of his own life
lmd saved tiic child. lie had rushed
forward and snatched the boy from
under the feet >f the cattle, and run¬
ning back a few steps had taken shel¬
ter behind a tree, pushing the boy up
among the boughs beyond danger.
Another minute and the herd had
passed, and wo wero on the spot.
The child was unhurt, but ttie squatter
was less fortunate. Ho was bruised
and torn by the horns and hoofs of
tho cattle that passed near him. The
tree was small and afforded him but
partial protection, and onco or twice
lie was knocked down, llis injuries,
however, wero not serious, as we
were all glad to know, and none of us
more glad than Merrill.
When the squatter’s eyes wandered
to the spot where his wagon had been,
and he saw the complete wreck of all
his possessions, lie groaned and a dim¬
ness came to his eyes.
“It’s all right, my friend,” said
Merrill, laying his hand gently on the
man’s shoulder; “you shall lose noth¬
ing. You shall have a claim here and
I will make up to you ten times over
all you have lost. You shall mak
the ranch your home.* 1
Merrill kept his promises, and after
the squatter had selected a claim he
helped him to build a house and fur¬
nish it, aud besides loaned him money
to send back cast to pay passago for
his wife and children.
The employes of the ranch made up
a purse to present the squatter, and
when the donations were all in it was
found that we had the neat little sura
of $130. “Enough,” as Ike said, “to
sorter bridge over in case o’ sickness
or somethin’.” Oid Ike put the money
in a purse, and labeled it with a card
on which he had scrawled with a pen¬
cil these w ords: -
“A present from the cowpnnchers
of Merrill’s ranch to the man who,
though a squatter, is a better man than
any of us.”
The purse was duly presented to tho
squatter, with a little presentation
speech from Ike which was as unique
as appropriate.
Every man on (lie ranch received
strict orders from Merrill not to molest
or interfere in any way witli any
homeseeker who happened to strike
our part of the country, and we never
did from that day.— [Detroit Free
Press.
Modern Warfure on Fire.
The old theory in regard to fire is
becoming obsolete. The idea was for¬
merly that lire should be confined and
smothered if possible for lack of air,
but the modern idea is to give vent to
the building that the flames and smoke
and heat may escape, in order that tho
firemen may gain access to the build¬
ing anil concentrate their efforts to tho
extinguishing of the fire. lit a build¬
ing tilled with flames and smoke it is
almost impossible to locate the fire
and the firemen are at a loss how to
direct their efforts for its extinguish¬
ment. A building onco cleared of the
smoke it is not difficult to reach the
fire. That this plan is successful is
demonstrated by the fact that in large
cities the loss by each fire is very
much less than formerly. — [New
York Dispatch.
Disfigurement Among the Fijians.
The Fijians have many games of
skill. They take great pride in the ap¬
pearance of their hair and their coif¬
fures are fearfully and wonderfully
made. It is said of one chief that his
headdress was five foet in circumfer¬
ence. One of their curious pagan cus¬
toms was the cutting off of fingers of
relatives of dead men as evidences of
grief. Bishop Vidal relates that in
one village ho could sec hardly a man
with an undisfigured hand. All the
horrible and almost forgotten customs
of the Fijians aro still very prevalent
among the head hunters of the Solo¬
mon islands.—[San Francisco Chroni-
cle.
A Little Change.
Old Friend—Don’t you remember
sweet Alice, who danced with delight
when you gave her a smile, and
trembled with fear at your frown?
Mr. B. Bolt, .Tr.—Oh, yes. She
doesn’t cafe a cent for my smiles or
frowns cither now. We’re married.
— [New York Weekly.
DETECTED BY
k Sixth Sense that Discovers
Bogus Money.
Persons Who Teach the Detec¬
J tion of Counterfeits.
iret impressions are always the
bcsljr said an officer of tho Sub-Treas.
ury ir ; pftvtmcnt, as hu peered through
tho Vi siles of l iis cage. f rpi-Q..lk” lol'K 1
oFsfT ,W . ntmured thousand dollars in
cash recently. “1 rarely examine a
bill closely with my eyes to know if
it is counterfeit, but depend almost
entirely upon my sense of touch.
“One’s touch becomes wonderfully
accurate after a tiino,” lie continued;
“so Hue, in fact, that experienced toll-
ers have what may bo termed a sixth
senso, by which intuitively they detect
counterfeit bills. Put three countor-
feit bills in a package of a hundred
and an old teller will cotjnt them ovor,
and, when he lias done, you will And
the three bills at one side, ho having
thrown them there apparently with¬
out examining them at all. Ho will
then tako them up and give them a
careful scrutiny as a final precaution,
after which lie deliberately puts the
stamp of'‘Counterfeit’ upon them.
“Here iu the Treasury we seldom
get counterfeits, as most of our money
first passes through tho hands of
bankers. When by chance wc do get
a bill, it is punched so full of holes
that it would not pass any where. It
is the law that banks shall mutilate
such bills also, but often times one is
innocently presented by a heavy de¬
positor,and, for fear of offending him,
it is simply liauded back untouched;
but we have to court favor with no
mau, and are perfectly independent in
that respect.
“No; a man cannot bo dealt witli
severely for having coun(“ feits in his
poiKu.C 'ou, t>r. it js noecjfs r
that he has them for evil purposes ue<
fore conviction can be had. Then
there aro persons traveling about the
country teaching tho defection of
counterfeits, who have permission of
the Government to carry the goods.
They are required, however, to report
to tho secret-service officer in every
town they visit. This is done, not so
much for fear that those teachers will
try to pass the bills, but for (heir own
protection; for you know there are
people always watching to get some
one arrested, and thero is no game
they like better than a counterfeiter.
When one of these teachers is arrested,
if he has previously reported to the
service, showing his credentials, lie is
released without any further trouble,
where if he should attempt to proceed
with his work without reporting, it
would look suspicious, and he would
get into trouble. It requires no per¬
mit to carry marked counterfeits, but
of course, such bills would be useless
to a teacher.”
“Iiow does he teach this detection?”
asked a Cincinnati Timcs-Star report¬
er.
“Well, he has a package of good
and bad bills mixed indiscriminately,
and he simply stands by and lias the
pupil sort the bad ones out by sense of
touch, paying no attention to the de¬
nominations and names of the bills.
This is accomplished after a short
time, with liis assistance, anil then for
a further test he shows the silk threads
running through the paper. Tills is
very apparent, and a bill without it
may be pronounced worthless without
any further scrutiny. The counter¬
feiters imitate these threads by mak¬
ing ink lines, or by creasing tho bills,
a well-made crease being almost in¬
effaceable and giving to the casual ob¬
server the appearance of threads. But
there is no need of being fooled on
these tilings, as the thread can lie
picked out easily. -
“Yes, I suppose there are counter¬
feit bills in circulation that have never
been detected, and no doubt there are
counterfeiters who have grown rich
off the business, but they are scarce.
The usual career of a counterfeit is
about a year, while an occasional one
gets taken up in a couple of months,
and others run several years. It re¬
quires several thousand dollars to get
out a good counterfeit, and few of the
professional workers can afford this
outlay. No doubt, if great care were
taken, a bill might be gotten up that
would pass for several years success¬
fully. The latest bill out is the two-
dollar silver certificate.
“Specio is very easily dutoctod by U«
weight and ‘feel.’”
The Carnival at Nice.
Lightly welcomed in a few places,
tolerated in some, and abhorred in
most, tho King of Folly is annually
received with royal pomp and splen¬
dor at Nice; and ho, in turn, through
die hands of Europe’s pleasure-seekers,
headed usually by common royalty in
the person of tho Prince of Wales,
casts a golden shower upon all good
1. 1 , t iu doing tho sov¬
ereign will. Tho city sends a suitable
escort out to sea to meet the King, all
the yachts and oilier vessels in the
harbor hang Chinese lanterns in his
honor, and his favorite subjects bend
the knee and carry him in a gaudy car
to their largest square, there to sit for
a WC ek, (ho one and only ruler of his
mtlo kingdom. Benign of counte-
nance, holding easily tho roms of
s(ft(ej fif tc011 or twenty foet tall> and
broad iu proportion, ho yet has his
proclamation written and doliverod for
him, with the modesty of an ordinary
sovereign; but it must bo his own
unbridled will alono that commands
tho music and the dancing to com¬
mence at once, and to continue
throughout the whole of his reign,
rest and recreation being left to de¬
pend upon the chunco of a deluge or
an extra vigorous mistral.
What other sovereign rules in the
hearts of his people us does King Car¬
nival? Does he will an inauguration
ball? Then balls are held all over the
town and are repeated again and
again. Does he say, “Dance I” ? Then
bands of music are stationed within
and without; and the light fantastic
too is tripped upon tho very street cor¬
ners, in broad daylight, by tho shy
rays of the moon, and by the glare of
lamps, torches and lanterns. Docs ho
order flowers and confetti? Then mil¬
lions of bouquets and tons of plaster
pgjis arc lavished until everything * atul^ _
•re cov<-«-——* U, h# 4
lliallCl -‘Mitsk!’’ ?' from in L'Vjjyr the-confeifi),
doubly (to be safe -
and assume the form and character of
everything in earth, air, fire and
water. Docs lie crave a review? Be¬
hold now a gorgeous procession of
plants, fish, reptiles, birds, animals
and representatives of all nations.
And with scarcely a wink or hint to
eat, drink, and be merry, tools and
work-a-day clotlios are thrust into the
darkest closets, and old savings-stock-
ings are fished out; and tho stomach is
so often filled, tho brain so' unduly
stimulated, a habit of merriment so
firmly fitted, that no customary occu¬
pation can again be even thought tof
until many yesterdays have helped
His Majesty into oblivion.— [Bclford’s
Magazine.
Idolatry in India.
Captain Cruikshank of the English
army told a story about idolatry in
India lately. It seems, he says, as if
there were more idols than people in
India. They are made of stone, metal
or wood, and you can see them under
every shade tree.
It is like reading a chapter from the
Bible to walk about some of the
groves. A few of tho temples arc
made of solid marble and gold.
The custom of worship is amusing.
The devout Indian oil reaching tho
temple, first rings a bell. That is to
notify the god that he is on hand to
do business. After that ceremony tho
worshiper repeats his prayers and
then deposits his offerings. These con¬
sist of rice, grain and cloth. They are
afterward put into the holy cart and
sold.
The priests have ho trouble in selling
them, for the holy food is always
quoted high. Twenty loads of holy
food can be sold in tho time it takes
to dispose of a cargo that has not been
to the temple.
Tho ceremony of putting the gods
to sleep would make a saint laugh.
The worshipers assemble in tho temple
and blow on horns, yelling and shout¬
ing at the top of their voices. This
resembles an American Indian war-
daiicc, and it is kept up all night
long.
Other ceremonies are as strange,and
the work of civilization does not pro¬
gress rapidly. Buddhism did more
than anything else to reform idolatry,
but the people have drifted back into
the samo old habits.
An advance sect with high morals
has been founded, but it will do but
little if any good.
NO. 34.
Tribute.
81nce thou hast walked beside me these few
years.
And my fate has intertwined with thine,
I know how love partakes of the divine;
Iu saying “Courage” when the soul know
fears,
In whispering “Comfort” when sad eyes
hold teurs,
In lifting one above that crooked Hoc
To which hard care would fain a life con¬
fine,
B’en while the hopeless spirit perseveres.
Thou hast done this and more, for me,
strong heart,
And for the love-light shining in thins
eyes,
I would not even for a kingdom part,
Well knowing I retain the greatest prize,
Since having thee and knowing what thou
art
I surer am of Cod beyond the skies.
— [Adels Townsend Stanton.
HUMOROUS*
It is always fly time with abscond¬
ers.
A steak is none the moro costly foi
being rare.
There is a constantly growing de¬
mand that other people be good.
Tho burglar who goes through many
houses should bo good at riflo practice.
Beauty is only skin deep, but it will
got a seat in the horse car every time.
How can you expect to get informa¬
tion from a letter when it is not post-
ed?
The tenor’s voice broke on G sharp,
and the critics called it “A flat
failure.”
“Economy is the road to wealth,”
but you can’t get the boarders to be¬
lieve it.
The oniy kind of cake that the av¬
erage small boy has severe objections
to is a cake of soap.
“A man just had a fit up here on
High street.” “Did yon look at him?”
“Yos.” “No wonder.”
“Keflexions make us sadder,” said
an ugly philosopher, who must have
^Kw^ing }nto a mirri j
. -J. . 'the
two most polito /angftAges oi Europe
should be Polish and Finnish.
No wonder dogs spend so much time
in howling. Think of the kind of men
who are always going to them.
Bulfinch—What’s the matter, Wood¬
en? Wooden—I’ve just boon to ask
old Cashbox for Ilia daughter. Bul¬
finch—Well, how did you come out?
Wooden—Through the window.
Tiie girl who is acknowledged to be
the flower of tho family is seldom
called upon to perform any experi¬
ments with tho flour of the family.
Teacher—Tommy Slimson, have you
any good excuse for being late?
Tommy (beamingly)—Yes’m. Teach,
or—What is it? Tommy—Wallies.
Van Duder—I want to know some-
thing, Miss Amy. Amy—I have
thought for years, Mr. Van Duder,
that that was just what you wanted.
Even the most conceited of men
may ho pardoned his good opinion of
himself if lie remembers what his
mother and the neighbors said about
him when he was a baby.
It Is not true that after Diogenes
had been out with his lantern all the
afternoon looking for an honest man,
he came home in the shades of early
evening and found that somebody had
stolon liis tub.
Miss Sharpe—Your friend Wooden
reminds mo so much of the learned
professions. Bullfinch—Ah, he’ll be
glad to hear it; but in what way,
Miss Sharpe—Why, there’s so much
room at the top,
“How did the young woman you
wrote the poem for like it?” asked one
of liis friends of Willie Wishington.
“She didn’t say anything,” said Wil¬
lie, “except that I ought to send it to
a chiropodist and have its feet atlend-
ed to.
The First Oklahoma Boomers.
The first organized Oklahoma raid,
it is said, was made at niglit on April
13, 1880, by thirteen men, two of
whom as guides marked the trail by
placing old buffalo skulls at prominent
ridges, so that the route is known to
this day as the Ilog’s Back Trail. A
location was selected on April 22. A
city six miles square in area was sur¬
vey'd and three houses built, and
then on May 15 came Lieutenant Par¬
dee with twelve soldiers and twelve
Indian scouts f rom Fort Ilono and ar-
resled the whole party. — [Chicugo
lie i aid.