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Pitzgorald Leader,
FITZGERALD, GEORGIA
— PUBI/ISHBK BT—
BCJVyvopi* <*• aso-ivr.
Of the fifty-six locomotives for which
a single Philadelphia firm has re¬
ceived orders within the last week,
twenty-two are for the Government
State Railway of Finland, twenty-four
are for the Government railway of
Brazil and ten are for the Grand
Trunk Railway of Canada, These
contracts, representing widely sep¬
arated parts of the world, plainly in¬
dicate the high regard in which
American locomotives are held by
progressive railroad scientists. Their
superiority has placed them in high
favor in almost every country on the
globe.
Poultrymen who make the raising
of ducks a specialty, and who have
advanced ideas, are reaping a harvest
just now from the demand for “green
ducks,” as a table delicacy. The
green duck is simply a duckling not
over two months old, nor less than
four pounds in weight, that has never
.*5
brooders, and are made ready for
market by a system of forced growth
and fattening, which is the secret of
the half dozen firms producing them
by the thousand for the markets of
New York, Boston and Philadelphia.
■Green ducks, after leading their
wholly artificial life, leave it for the
table, with a flavor all their own.
They are probably the most profitable
development of the poultry trade, for
the supply has never yet equaled the
demand.
Michael G. Mulhall, the celebrated
English statistician,in . the .. North „ Amer- *
lean Review writes: It appears that
as regards quantity three Americans
How export as much as five did twenty
which , . , suffices _ to . show , . how
years ago, „ „
groundless are the predictions of some
writers who tell us that as population
increases so the surplus products for
exportation must diminish. In the
last twenty years population has risen
from forty-five to seventy-one million
souls, an increase of fiftv-eight per
cent., and at the same time the weight
of exports has risen lio per cent.,
that is, three times as fast as popnla-
tion. Tlie quantities of food yearly
exported are sufficient to feed 30,000,-
000 persons in . x, Europe, from ,___v, which it
appears that American farms raise food
for 100,000,000 people yearly.
Western prairies are capable of
ing ° double the present number bLfive
stock, and produoing^en times as
much grain as the^Z^so that, for at
least a century there is every
probability f that the exportation of
food , will ... increase . with ... population.
The same is true as regards cotton,
the crop having risen 125 per cent, in
twenty years. The world is only be-
ginning to have evidence of the enor-
xoous productive power of the United
States.
Ex-Mayor Abram S. Hewitt, of New
York, regards Sir Henry Bessemer as
one of the greatestof the world’s bene-
factors. In speaking of a rich man’s
relation to the general community, at
the recent informal opening exercises .
at D. O. Mills’s model hotel for poor
men in New York City, Mr. Hewitt
alluded to Mr. Bessemer as an instance
of a man who might . , . enrich . , himself , . ..
and yet receive only an infinitesimal
part of the wealth derived from his
own genius ’ and work. Mr. Bessemer
invented , a process of , making , . steel . ,
which reduced by 500 per cent, the
previous cost of manufacturing that
metal. “Mr. Bessemer is worth, per-
haps, ten millions of dollars,” said
Mr. Hewitt, “That, of .
course, is
away above the average of individual
acquirement, but it is only a small
part of the wealth which Mr. Boese-
mer’s invention has conferred upon
man, directly and indirectly. I think
it a conservative estimate to put the
money value of Bessemer’s contribu-
.. »ot le„,
than $1,000,000,000. A railroad man
like Mr. Depew can appreciate the
vast saving which this single inven-
tion of steel making has brought
about.” ,, The ex-Mayor ,, said ., it was
not true that the great mass of wealth
was concentrated in a few hands. He
had investigated the subject sufficient-
ly J to satisfy himself that but a com-
paratively , small „ part . of „ tne world ,,, s
wealth is held by so-called million-
aires. In fact, there are not more
tban 4000 persons in this country
who are worth a million or more. The
average wealth of the people of the
United States is between $1200 and
$1300.
Keep abreast of the times and en¬
courage home enterprises by keeping
up your subscription to this paper. If
you are not on our books now, send us
your name at once.
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HANGING THE STOCK1NCS.
Six little worsted stockings hanging all In a
row. patched scarlet heels, and
And I have two
darned a orlmson toe.
Over the eyes ot azure, over the eyes
of brown,
Seemed as coaxed though down. the eyelids could never
be
I sang for a good long hour before they
were shut quite tight.
For to-morrow will be Christmas, and old
Nick comes to-night.
Wo laughed as wo dropped the candles Into
heel and toe,
For not one little stocking was missing
from the row.
But oh, the empty cradles—the tears that
pillows Rachael wet, soul
The voice of crying—my can¬
not forget; child to-night In
For there is no many a
house I know, hanging
Where a little sock was only a year
ago.
And when our work was ended, we stood a
little apart,
Silently praying the ’father to soothe that
mother's heart
Who looks falling on her id. worn stockings amid
her tears,
Whose darling is keeping Christmas in
Christ’s eternal years.
<;? COLONEL'S
CHRISTMAS STORY.
^e^©ie;eie!eiei^©ie(eteNeKS©^KNe^©!eie!e!^
OU see,” said Alaire,
as he stretched him¬
V, self out comfortably
' in his chair before
the fire, “it is one of
the cheerful peculiar¬
ities of Christmas that
it makes a man home¬
sick'whoTas no home. It is senti¬
ment, it is tradition, it is human na¬
ture, perhaps, but it never strikes one
so forcibly and desolately that he is
alone in the world as then—when he
g06a aU the worltl rlls hing homeward.”
“Yes,” I assented, “there ought to
be a Society for Providing Unattached
Gentlemen of Affectionate Dispositions
with homes to go to at Christmas and
Thanksgiying Iinten d to call the at-
tention of the conference of Charities
to it at their next meeting.”
We had dined together the colonel,
^ dining . room> aud the meal had
not been a very cheerftl i 0 ne, in spite
0 f the fact that the chef had surpassed
himself. Afterwards we had walked
W0 three, who were friends of many
years’ standing, delighted.
Somehow we were unusually quiet.
B was Christmas Eve, and at such a
time each heart audits its account
md nQ matter what the
world may aay of success or failure, it
its own balance of happiness
or sorrow. Suddenly, across the still¬
ness of the room, there floated clear
and sweet from the pavement below a
oWld g voic0 siuging an 0 1<1 Christmas
carol. The colonel went over and
raised the window and stood listening,
with his broad shoulders toward us.
Star of Bethlehem —the childish
voi vered and faltered in its 8ong .
He tIlrew a ]ja n dful of coin on the
pavement and shut the window down,
“Ah,” he said, drawing his breath
pj ay on an old-fashioned spinnet,
and we used to sing—” Then he
turned to us abruptly. “I am going
home to-morrow.”
We made a little gesture of protest
and surprise, but he did not notice it.
“It isn’t the fashion,” he went on,
“for people to care much for anything.
It isn’t fin de siecle to weep, and most
0 £ have forgotten how to laugh,
an d we crush down all emotion as if
we were ashamed of it. I am like the
never talked
about myself, *t and yet to-night I have
fancy 0 te ll you a bit of my life.
jt will help you to understand—when
I am gone. If I tire you, stop me,
A man is generally a bore when he
talks about himself. ”
Alaire reaclled up and turned out
.,j ng i e j e t 0 f gas that was burning,
“It is better talking in the dark,”
he said, but I knew the exquisite
chivalry of the man. He would not
read what was written in the open
book 0 f the oolonel’s face. What he
told us we would know; no more.
There was a long pause, “You will
understand,” he said, slowly, “that it
is not easy for me to talk of this thing.
Of course, as the cynical French pro¬
verb has it, there was a woman in the
case. I had been off to college, and
when I came home for the Christmas
jjorfmod from a near-by city while I
had been away from home. He was a
semi-invalid, whose health had failed,
and his physician had recommended
oountry air, and so he had bought a
farm ar my father. I don’t know
bow g ; r i s a pp e ar to boys now, who
have sweethearts in their cradles, and
who are blase in their very childhood,
1 had always been 11 shy, dull felflow,
and to me she appeared a very god-
de(jg _ j re member she had on a soft
blue gown, and some pale winter roses
were on her breast.
“Well,” and the colonel laughedun-
mirthfully, “the tale is soon told. I
loved her from the first moment I ever
saw her. I went back to college with her,
my head filled full of fancies about
graduated and came home to settle
down to the peaceful life of a Ken¬
tucky farmer. By and by Alicia prom¬
ised to be my wife, and for six months
I lived in a fool’s paradise. ‘Wait, 1
her father said; ‘yon are both too
young to marry, ’ and so I waited on
patient!* enough. Every day was so
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UNDER THE MISTLETOE.
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Who atanda under tlie mistletoe
IVIay be kissed, the poets avow.
" Now’s your chance,” cries the little one,
4 ‘ Sister’s under the mistletoe now.**
pressed down and running over with
joy that I had no need to hurry.
“Did you ever think,” asked the
colonel suddenly, “that a great love is
like a strong light held close to the
eyes? It blinds one to everything
else, and sometimes it is the selfishest
thing on earth. Afterwards I knew
that Alieia never really loved me.
That I, slow of thought and speech,
with no grace of manner or person,
was never the one to have filled her
ideal or touched her fancy. In prom¬
ising to marry me she had been swept
away by the strength of my^assion.
And I poured out such a wealth of
lore on her thatJC never noticed she
gave nothing iii return, She let me
love her—that was enough.
. “That Christmas Walton, a college
mate of mine, came to spend the holi¬
days with me. He was a showy, brill¬
iant young fellow, but one whom I had
never fancied, and his coming was en¬
tirely accidental. He happened to be
in that part of the State and droppped
in to see me. Yon know how such
things happen. Of course he met
Alicia. They sang together and danced
together, and all at once my pensive
little darling blossomed out into a
brilliant woman, and still I suspected
nothing, loyal |I loved jealous. her t#o She well; seemed I was
too to be
happy in Walton’s company, and so I
pressed him to stay, and he lingered
on for weeks and weeks.
“Aftor a while Walton went away,
and I could but notice a kind of fear,
constant, aversion, I don’t know what,
that had come upon Alicia. Then one
day, in a little burst of petulant,unrea¬
soning wrath about some trifle, she
turned upon me and told me the whole
bitter truth—that she had never really
loved me—that her heart was given to
Walton, and she hated me becauso I
stood between her and him.
“Of course one cannot bind a woman
to one when she wishes to be free. I
was not cur enough to whine, but I
went to Europe for a bit, and when I
came back settled in the city. I
couldn’t go back there. She had
changed the world for me.
“Alicia and Walton were soon mar¬
ried, and it turned out most unfor¬
tunately. He .Broke her heart by
every refinement of cruelty; he wasted
her fortune, neglected and deserted
her, and through it all she loved him
still. God knows a woman’s ideals
die hard!
“Finally he had the grace to die, and
left her penniless to face the world
alone. Nothing on earth,” said the
colonel slowly, “is so sad to me as a
gentle woman, used to the refinements
and elegancies of life, who finds her¬
self dependent on her own exertions
for a livelihood. Of course often they
work out the hard problem but at
what agony of body and soul no one
can know. Alicia was like the rest.
She had the inexact knowledge of the
ordinary girls boarding school, but
she oould not have stood the examina¬
tion to have taught the ab c’s in a pub¬
lic school. She had a sweet voice and
a sympathetic touch in music, but that
isn’t what the young ladies who ‘ren¬
der’ pieces want to- know nowadays.
She could paint and draw a little, but
you know the whole dreary story.
Nothing that would count in these
days when the world must have value
received for what it pays, and yet she
must earn her bread. She tried the
usual things—boarders—but she who
had been used to entertaining with a
lavish hospitality did not know how to
make every economy tell, and so that
was a failure. First one thing and
then another she tried. Everything
was a failure, and then she lost cour¬
age and threw down her arms, a poor
little vanquished warrior in the battle
of life.
“Then she drifted to this city, found
a poor room, and has lived—if anyone
may call such existence living-by
selling or pawning the remnants she
had left of the finery of other days,
“Yesterday I was on the street, and
in crossing a crowded oorner I was so
jostled against a poor woman who
clutched iu her hand a piece of money
that it fell on the pavement and rolled
under the feet of the passers-by. I
stooped to pick it up, and when I put
it in her baud I looked straight in the
eyes of Alicia.
“ ‘Jack!” she said, faintly, and I an¬
swered, ‘Alicia!’
We could not speak there, and I al¬
most lifted her in a cab that was
standing by the curb, and by and by
she told me what I have been telling
you. ’ She was half starved, friendless
and homeless and cold, 'and she told
me with a little smile more pitiful
than any tears could have been, that
she had determined to end a life that
had in it nothing but sorrow and want
and degradation.
“For me,” said the colonel, softly,
“there has never been but one woman
in the world. I gave her my whole
love when'my heart was young, and it
has never faltered. So I asked her
there, in her poor room, to be my
wife, as I had asked her years before,
and when she pointed to her poor
withered face and spoke of the years of
sorrow she had caused me she would
have, knelt at my feet.
<< < How could I have ever slighted
such love,’ she wept; “how could I—
how could II’
“We are going to be married to¬
morrow,” said the colonel, “and I am
going to take her back to Kentucky
for a while, back to where the blue
grass will be soft about her poor feet
that have wandered homeless through
the city. My God, men, think how
hard the streets of a city are to a
homeless woman 1 Back to where the
eyes that have been seared looking
into the hard face of poverty shall see
nothing but the pitying smile of na¬
ture; back to peace and quiet and rest,
where she will forget the world, and
maybe there I shall win the love I
missed so mrfny years ago.”
I reached out in silence and took
the colonel’s hand, and Alaire lit a
match, and all at once the room flamed
into sudden brilliance.
“And now,” said the colonel, “give
me a Christmas toast before you go.
‘Mv Old Kentucky Home,’ God bless
it. Standing, please!”
WATCHING FOR SANTA CLAUS.
The children lie in the fire-glow warm,
Watching bright for heads Santa, and wishing eaoh so hard, little
With resting on
arm, regard—
And eyes ashine In a fixed
Oh, nol they’re not a bit sleepy at all,
As they watch and wait for Santa Claus’
call.
But Santa knows they are watching for
him. himself, and
Till So he laughs eyelids to droop, and Sleep slyly waits takes
their
them
Off into Dreamland, and locks his gates,
And leaves them In charge of the fairy
bright, the
Who leads them out in morning light,
Now Santa Claus comes to the little black
row
Of stockings that hang In the chimney
nook; that he should know
And isn’t it funny
Which wants a doll, Bkates, sled or book?
Then his lightened paok to his shoulder
flings, wild wind sings.
And off again as the
When the stars are gone, and the sun peeps
out, heard the patter of little feet;
There is
The children rush In with a joyous shout—
The stockings are emptied—Oh, bright
And Chappy made faces and voices Christmas gay Day!
hearts merry on
—Luella Curran.
E A R L Y_FE A ST , NC S .
The Puritans Would Not Hear of Plum
Pudding:.
The plum pudding that years of use
had made saerod to Christmas, was a
sweet morsel dear to epiourean mem¬
ory, but never to be mentioned in a
community where a Puritanio rage
awakened at the mere mention of any¬
thing connected with that “impious
Holiday of Anti-Christ. ”
And in those days of privation Eng¬
land’s crown would have been as easy
an attainment for her runaway subjects
as the rich ingredients for composing
the historic delicacy.
But private store of raisins and
Zante currants and small boxes of cit¬
ron began to accumulate in the little
corner walloupboards, where the fru¬
gal housewives kept the treasures sent
them from friends in the mother coun¬
try. When church and courts sanc¬
tioned some modest feasting, a pud¬
ding was compounded, in such houses
as could afford it, and considered by
flippant youthful partakers to be one
of the chief privileges of Thanksgiving
Day.
A whole chapter might be written
about the plum pudding of old Eng¬
land, but poets and historians have
made it sufficiently famous, and our
attention, as loyal Americans, may
well be given to the almost pathetic
efforts of the colonists to imitate it
with such ingredients as their slender
resources allowed. An early letter
from a colonist says:
“Although we have not as yet known
physical starvation, yet so seldom
have daintyes been on our board that
it was some admiration to us when the
goodwife of one of our number made a
fine pudding from meal supplied by
the Indians and the abundant berries
(whortleberries) straight that wild grow bushes.” like small
plums on
There is another record, or tradi¬
tion, of a pudding that was sacred to
Thanksgiving Day a few years later,
when store ships more regularly
crossed to exchange the supplies of an
older civilization for such things as
the settlers could obtain from the In¬
dians, or manufacture among them¬
selves. Probably the pudding has
been changed in some respects to suit
the present day, but in the main the
recipe remains as it was handed down,
and all the descendants of one noble
Puritan family serve it invariably at
their Thanksgiving dinners. Slices
an inch in thickness are cut from a
loaf of home-made bread and spread
generously with butter. One of them
is laid in the bottom of a three-quart
tin pail and then dotted with twelve
raisins as impartially arranged as pos¬
sible. Another slice laps this, and ia
its tuj^ receives its allotment of rais¬
ins. Slice after slice is thus laid on
till the whole loaf is in the pail, into
which is then poured a custard mix¬
ture, made by adding twelve beaten
eggs and a flavoring of salt to a quart
of milk. In the morning the pail
tightly covered, with its contents un¬
disturbed, is plunged into a great ket¬
tle of hot water banging upon a crane
over the huge wood fire, and there left
to boil for four hours or till time for
the homogeneous boulder-like form
that the compound had resolved into,
to be slid out upon a dish and served
at “the sweet end of dinner,” with a
sweet sauce made tasty with clovers
cinnamon and mace,
The pudding is palatable enough to
please any one, but when it was first
in use the bread was undoubtedly and
made of rye or Indian corn, there
must have been many times when the
supply of raisins running short, the
perplexed cooks had to substitute
dried berries for the raisins. It is a
question, too, if the generous number
of eggs had not to be lessened some¬
times.
Christmas Morning.
‘J -Y. if
s
•a
“Good morning, Mr. Gander I JA
cool morning.”
“Yes; I’m all covered with goose-
pimples.”
It Was No Inducement.
“If you are good,” remarked the
new nurse in a Boston family to her
three-year-old charge, something “Santa Claus
will give you nice on
Christmas.”
“You will have to talk about Santa
Claus to younger persons,” replied
the child. “I know that he is a
mythical personage. ”—Judge.
A Change in the Date.
Dillingham—“I think Christmas
ought to be held on the twenty-sixth
of December.”
Wilberforce—‘ ‘Why." it
Dillingham—“Because now that
is held on the twenty-fifth about the tired twenty-
sixth finds people to
death.”
Guile.
Dix—“If my wife asks you my
brand of cigars between now and
Christmas, tell her these, and say—’*
Dealer—“Yes.”
Dix—“Don’t charge her over a dol¬
lar a box; I’ll pay the balance.”
A single sunflower stalk at Burns,
Kan., carried the unprecedented time. num¬
ber of 233 blooms at one
At Christmas.
Without, the frost-winged breezes blow
Across the wold, above, cheek below,
And the rose In every Is stirred
With the downy kiss of each snow-flake bled.
Within, the cheerful Yule log fire
Brims withmusio’s high desire,
Sheds light and cheer below, above,
Bespeaking the warmth of homely lot..
SURPRISED BY MASKED MEN.
Arkannu. Farmer and Ron. Have Deadly
fiiicminter Wltli KobberM.
A special from Little Rock says:
Near Clinton,in Van Buren county, an
aged farmer named Patterson lived on
Culpepper mountain. With him lived
his wife and two sons, one of whom
was married and had a small family.
While the entire household were
seated at the supper table two-white
men, wearing masks and heavily
armed, suddenly sprang into the din¬
ing room, and leveling their weapons
at tile heads of the assembled family,
commanded them to remain quiet.
It was the apparent intention of the
men to rob the house, but one of them
began firing into the people as they
sat at the table. One bullet from a
winchester struck old man Patterson
squarely in the mouth. The wounded
man sprang from the table and darted
into an adjoining room for his pistol.
He there encountered one of the rob¬
bers and a hand-to-hand struggle was
commenced. The other robber was
soon in the fray and as quickly joined
by Patterson’s brother and two sons.
When the robbers had exhausted
their ammunition they resorted to
their knives and began slashing right
and left. Old man Patterson, already
terribly wounded from the rifle ball,
was finished with the knife. His
brother was knocked senseless to the
floor after being slashed with knives
and throats of both the young married
son and his wife were cut by the rob¬
bers. The other son was shot through
the left arm and the right arm was
shattered.
The room in which the struggle oc¬
curred presented a grewsome spectacle.
The walls and ceiling were pierced by
bullets, windows and furniture were
demolished, blood stains were upon
the walls and blood stood in pools up¬
on the floor.
DAN CREEDON PUT OUT.
Tlie Hoosier “Kid McCoy,” Downs ttie
New Zealander.
A New York dispatch says: Norman
Selby, of Rush county, Indiana,better
known in pugilistic circles as “Kid
McCoy,” is undoubtedly the middle¬
weight champion of the world. He met
Dan Creedon, of New Zealand, Friday
night in the arena of the Puritan Ath¬
letic Club, at Long Island City, and
after fighting fifteen lively rounds
made the foreigner throw up the
sponge and acknowledge the hoosier’s
superiority.
Long Before the lug event took
place the frame building in which it
was held was crowded to excess and
bets were freely made with McCoy the
favorite.
The “Kid’s” wonderful science and
self-possession was always in evidenoe
and these, combined with the advant¬
age of height and reach, enabled him
to outpoint his more stoekily built an¬
tagonist.
From the moment the men put up
their hands in the opening round Mo-
Coy’s stock began to ascend, and by
the end of the sixth round McCoy’s
backers were offering three to one on
their man.
LABOR LEADERS ON CUBA.
The Federation Adopts Resolutions Rel¬
ative to Situation On the Island.
Several spirited speeches followed
the introduction of a resolution at
Friday’s meeting of the American
Federation of Labor, in session at
Nashville, relating to the situation in
Cuba. The resolution declares “that
it is the sense of this uonvention that
the United States congress should
waste no more time in useless debate
and diplomatic chicanery, but should
take such immediate aotion as may
tend to put an end to the indiscrimin¬
ate murder of the common people of
Cuba by Spanish soldiery.”
The following substitute for the res¬
olution was introduced: “That it be
the sense of the convention that Cuba
should have industrial freedom from
which it will receive political free¬
dom.”
BIG BLAZE AT GRAND FORKS.
Loss If In tlie Neighborhood of One
Million Dollars.
A special from Grand Forks, N. D.,
says that a less of nearly a million
dollars was caused in that city early
Friday morning by fire.
Tlie Hotel Dakotah, a large five-story
structure that cost $250,000,’ was com¬
pletely destroyed, as were the two
large wholesale stores adjoining, Nash
Bros, and the Grand Forks Mercantile
Company.
AMENDMENT TURNED DOWN.
Hou>« Rot Satisfied With Change In Yu¬
kon Miners Sielief I5ill.
A Washington special says: The
house Friday completed the consid¬
eration of the legislative, executive
and judicial appropriation bill, ex¬
cepting the paragraph relating to the
civil service. By agreement the de¬
bate on this latter paragraph will go
over until after the holidays. The bill
as reported abolishes the assay office
at New Orleans, La.
The house refused to accept the sen¬
ate amendment to the bill for the re¬
lief of the miners in the upper Yukon,
aiql it was sent to .onferenee.
PLANS M ERE READY.
4 Movement to Ral.e United States Flag
•In Cuba Frustrated.
Colonel George Tomlinson,of Tuck-
ersburg, Ala., says that the yellow
fever outbreak frustrated a well laid
plan to seize Cuba and raise the United
States flag in Cuba.
Fifteen thousand picked men, to be
well armed, were being secured from
eight southern states for the purpose
when the yellow feveir broke out and
frustrated their plans.