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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. r* v ■> O $ 1 / 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 ~- UNDER THE MISTLETOE. i I > ill' ifjljf jzm'B ii V/M m WA ft Ci A mWmm / SA/-- 1 r + & fl&fe m i A m ft if V. 7// V tm//, m fj i <1 ,v m m 1 fi 1 . If///, V mm i iaT U\ . m i' % ) ( * i 'll !; §■ I: Iff / i 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.