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About The Morgan monitor. (Morgan, Ga.) 1896-???? | View Entire Issue (Sept. 24, 1897)
The Morgan Monitor. VOL. II. NO. 37. $1 PER YEAR. THE DREAM TOWN SHOW. There Is an island in Slumber sea Where the drollest things are done, And we will sail there, if the winds are fair, ■Tust after the set of the sun. ’Tis the loveliest place in the whole wide world. Or any way so it seems, And tile folks there play at the end of each In day show called “Dreams." a curious We sail right into the evening skies, And the very first tiling we know We are there at the port and ready for Whore sport the dream folks show. And do think givo their night what you they did last When I crossed their harbor bars? They hoisted a plank on a great cloud bank And teetered among the stars. WERASER TAN. By MARGARET JOHANN. \/ [—“S1 HE teacher stood - by the blackboard reviewing with Ralph Burrows a problem in alge¬ bra. Most of her pupils were from the lower walks of life, rude in dress and manner, and backward in in¬ telligence. The schoolroom was a relic of an ancient educational regime, with broken, be¬ grimed walls, curtainless windows and backless, splinter-fringed benches, whose present incumbeuts could, upon the clumsy “forms” before them, carve their initials side by side with those of their fathers’, or im¬ prison flies in dungeons gouged out by the jack-knives of their grand¬ fathers. This pupil in algebra was the sole representative there of the township aristocracy. The teacher was very proud of him. He had already passed the entrance examination for the high- school in a distant city. He showed what he could do when she had material to work with, she thought, and she was fond of showing him off when the trustees made their pre¬ scribed “two visits a year.” The Wly had an earnest though merry face, and he bore with good-humored indif¬ ference the distinction of being the best-dressed and most scholarly pupil there. It was a raw January day. The wind made the old schoolhouse quake, but for pity of tho children, it piled pro¬ tecting ridges of snow about the case¬ ments. For the comfort of the smaller children benches were drawn close to the stove; but at the forms the older ones wrung their hands to dispel the numbness of their fingers, and sat upon their feet to keep them warm. A little girl with stringy, yellow curls, a lace-bordered apron, torn and dingy, and a soiled ribbon around her neck, tugged at the teacher’s gown. “Tin me and Weasel: Tan do home?” “Weaser Tan” (Louisa Rutan) by her side, hung her head bashfully and pulled] fingers. her mouth awry with her There was no attempt at finery in Weaser Tan’s costume. She was an ugly child, with part of her unkempt hair gathered into a short, tapering braid and tied with a bit of thread,and the rest of it hanging in strings about her eyes and ears. The teacher hesitated. << ( Me and Weaser Tan’ will freeze on the way, Miss L--,” said Ralph, good-naturedly turning from his prob¬ lem, “they have nearly as far to go as I have.” Miss L---- stepped anxiously to the window and surveyed the road. “If ‘Me and Weaser Tan’ will wait till school’s out I’ll take them home on my sled,” continued Ralph. The teacher looked relieved. “If you’ll do that, Ralph,” she said, “you may go right away; for the storm’s getting Worse every minute.” The boy was delighted to get out of school so early. “Proof that a good action is never thrown away,” he said, with roguish familiarity. Then ho slammed his books into place, put on his warm overcoat and tied a bright home-knit scarf around his neck, and the little girls pinned on their threadbare shawls. They went out into tho storm to¬ gether, and he seated them a-tandem upon his sled. “Put on your mittens, Weaser Tan,” he said, for the child’s hands holding to the sides of the sled were chapped and red. “She ain’t got none,” said Grace, pulling at the wrists of her own and giggling self-consciously. “Put these on, then,” said he, throwing his own into her lap. She drew them on shamefacedly. The little girls lived iu adjoining cabins; and when he left them in front of their door he said: “You may keep the mittens, Weaser Tan; mother’ll knit me another pair. They’re not so gay as Grace’s, but they’re warm.” Ralph Burrows, home on a college vacation, came out of the woods be¬ hind the Rutan cabin with his gun ppon his shoulder. His dog had run on ahead and Ralph came upon him eagerly lapping water from a trough in front of the house. Grace and Weaser Tan were there, the latter with her hand upon the handle of the pump, from whose nozzle a stream of fresh water was falling gently for the ani¬ mal’s enjoyment. “Don knows where the best water in the neighborhood is to be found,” said Ralph, throwing a bunch of game upon the grass and pumping a dipper fnl of water for himself as the girl stepped bashfully aside. The dog, a And they sat on the moon and swung their Like feet, Down pendulums, to and Iro. Slumber sea is the sail for me, And I wish you were ready to go. For the dream folks there on this curious isle Begin their performance at eight. There are no encores, and they close their doors On every one who is late. The sun is sinking o’clock behind the hills, The seven bells chime. I know by the chart that we ought to start If we would he there in time. Oh, fair is the trip down Slumber sea! Set sail, and away wo go! The anchor is drawn. We are oft and gone To the wonderful dream town. show. —Ella Wheeler Wilcox. magnificent English setter, went to her and laid his tawny head against her. She spoke gently to him, fond¬ ling his silky ears. “He seems to be an acquaintance of yours,” said Ralph, by way of being sociable. “Sh’d think he ought to be,” giggled Grace. “She's always saving bones and things for him.” “That’s very kind, I’m sure,” said the young fellow, turning toward the game which Grace was inspecting. “That blue-jay was an accident—I didn’t mean to shoot him. ” “You might give me his wings for my hat,” said Grace, saucily. t t His wings? with pleasure,” and, taking out his knife, ho out them off. “One for Grace and one for—‘Wea¬ ser Tan,’ ” ho said, giving one to each and laughiug at the recollection of the old childish name. He went whistling out of the grate; and Grace, with each hand grasping a picket of the rickety fence, watched him out of hearing. Ho drew a long breath as she turned away. “Gracious, ain’t he handsome!” she said, “and, Wease, you like him awful good.” For answer Wease splashed her well with water. Then Grace went crying into the house, and Wease, in the covert of the high pump, softly stroked the jay-a wing and watched the giver out of sight. “Room in our town for another physician,” wrote distant relatives, aud there Ralph Burrows went fresh froili an extended course of study and travel abroad. He opened his office in the heart of the town; his home was with his relatives on hills that over- looked it. Business came to him lag- gingly, but love came on smooth, swift wings. Marguerite, heir of beauty, wealth and gooduess, sat on tho veranda, fieldglass in hand. A dozen times a day she focused it upon Ralph’s office in the town below. A few moments since she saw him lock his door and set out upon the homeward road. Now he was hidden from view, but she knew just what landmark he had reached (she had timed him so often). To speed the minutes she took up a magazine and scanned an article that essayed to settle for all times and for all people the question: “Is life worth living?” AVhen he came she met him at the foot of the terraces, and with his arm around her he led her back to the veranda. “What’s iu it?” he asked, tossing the magazine aside to make room for them both upon the willow settle. “Oh, Ralph,” she cried, archly, “is life worth living?” He took her face between his hands and looked unutterable love into eyes that paid him back his own. “Is life worth living? And with Marguerite? A thousand, thousand times, sweetheart, and forever and ever!” He kissed her rapturously. “For shame,” she whispered, look¬ ing Louise; rosily she foolish and have happy, “there’s must heard and seen the whole performance. And, by the way, Ralph, when you write your mother, thank her again for solving for us the servant problem in so far as a waitress is concerned. This Louise Rutan has been with us two months now, and we find her all we could de¬ sire: only (with a little deprecative shrug) her face is bo stolidly sorrow¬ ful. I’m so happy myself, Ralph, that when anyone else is sad I feel a sort of remorse—almost as if I were re¬ sponsible. “Well, poor girl,” he said, “I’ve known her ever since she was—three feet high, I suppose, aud she’s had pretty hard lines. She’ll brighten, never fear, iu the atmosphere of this home.” “Louise,” said Marguerite next day, “I believe I’ll let you drive me into town; you’re accustomed to a horse, aren’t you?” “Not very; but I’m not afraid,” was the reply; so they went. Marguerite had made her purchases, had achieved a merry consultation with Ralph in front of his office, aud they were upon a homeward, uphill road that lay along the bed of a little stream. The queer, reticent girl by her side was a study for Marguerite. Through¬ out the drive she had tried to make her talk; but, baffled, she had by now lapsed into a silence akin to pique, A new thought came to her, “Louise,” she asked, “is life worth living?” “For yon it must be, Miss Mar- j guerite.” It was a lengthy sentence for the j girl to utter, but her eyes looked 1 staight ahead and her hands holding the slack rein lay limp iu her lap. “And why not for you, Louise?” The girl hesitated, aud Marguerite, POPULATION AND DRAINAGE. MORGAN, GA„ FRIDAY. SEPTEMBER 21. 1897. always prone to moralizing, improved the opportunity. “My good girl,” she said, “you wage-earners make a great mistake in thinking that wealth brings happiness. All of rich and * alike, meet us, poor with disappointments, and we can either make the best of them and be happy or make the worst of them and be miserable. Now, here are these gloves that I’ve just bought. I couldn’t get the color I wanted; these are fully three shades too dark, but I’m not going to fret about them; I’m going to be happy in spite of circum¬ stances. ” “Yes, ma’am,” said the girl, apatheti¬ cally. “You have health, a home and plenty to eat and to wear, Louise, and I have no more than that.” “Yes, ma’am”—but there was repu¬ diation iu the tone. Marguerite recognized it, and went on, a softness stealing over her glad, flower-like beauty. “Of course, I have Ralph; but some hearted day, Louise, some honest- young fellow will come to you, and will love you as his life, and then, Louise, if your heart responds” (her voice weighed with the sweet mvstery of love dropped into rhythmic cadence) “you will be blest indeed.” “Yes, ma’am,” said the girl again, but feigned an interest in the land¬ scape and leaned forward to hide her homely face from the gaze of the beau¬ tiful and blest. Suddenly the feigned interest be¬ came real, for she half rose to her feet, grasping the dashboard. “Whoa!” She threw the reins into Marguerite’s lap; and, springing to the ground, pressed into the thicket of blackberry and catbrier that upon one Bide bor¬ dered the road. Parting the tangle with her bare hands, she took one look through the opening she had made. The next instant she had loosened the traces and was leading the horse out of the shafts. “Why, Louise”—began Marguerite; then she got down and went to her with a fnco full of astonished inquiry. The girl’s lingers were flying from buokle to buckle along the harness. “Go home as fast as you can go, Miss Marguerite,” she said. Her voice was steady, but her hands shook, “What do you mean, Louise?” The gill dragged the harness off: “For you,” she said, “life is worth living; for me”—she backed the horse to the carriage-side—“death is worth dying.” From a hub she vaulted to the horse’s back. “Go home!” she shouted, fiercely; for by now she had lost control of her voice. “I believe you are insane,” said Marguerite, half iu anger, half in fright. To the quivering girl the suggestion was an inspiration. She waved her hands wildly: “Go!” she shouted, jerking the horse upon his haunches, “start, or I’ll ride you down!” Marguerite (led in terror. Once she looked back. No one was in sight, but she heard the horse’s hoofs clatter¬ ing downward into the town. A catalpa, little and old and scarred and only of late protected from vandal¬ ism by a box, stood in front of the doc¬ tor’s office. A horse wheeled under it, and Ralph reached the sidewalk as the rider slipped to the ground. < < What’s wrong, my girl?” heaslted, with forced professional calmness. Her breath came pantingly. “Go home,” she gasped, with tense, white lips, “they want you.” He sprang toward his office, but she clutched his sleeve. She was not fierce now, hut her tone was an agony of pleading. “Oh, go!”—for the first time in her life she looked full into his face— “don’t stop for anything—she’s dying, I tell you—Marguerite—she’s bleed¬ ing to death by the roadside—above the dam.” She pressed the bridle into bis hand, but he tore away into his office. He was out again like a flash, hatless but his emergency kit in hand, He snatched the bridle aud the next min¬ ute the woody, up-hill road plucked horse and rider out of her sight. Almost fainting, she held to tlie tree- box. The street was nearly deserted, but two women, talking earnestly, came round a corner, She clutched the gown of the nearer. “The dam,” she whispered, “there’s a leak—” The woman started and gathered her skirt closely about her. “Poor creature!” she said to her companion, “rum is the curse of this land,” and they turned nervously into the nearest street. Then Weaser Tan’s strength came again. Two boys tore past her in a wild game of chase. She seized the foremost by his shoulder, his compan¬ ion grabbed him at the same instant, and both wheeled stumblingly in front of her. “Run for the 'hills!”—she shook the boy as if to awaken him from sleep—“the big dam is giving way! Don’t stand and store! Alarm the people!” She flung them from her, and they plunged ahead—one shrieking like a maniac, the other dumb with terror. The girl herself dashed after the two women. Ahead of her and on tlie op¬ posite side, upon a bank of the “branch,” was a factory, In its sec- ond story young girls were working; she could see them through tlie open windows. She was flying up the stairs when a suspicious foreman stopped her. i » Whereaway so fast, young wo- man?” ; “The flood is coming!” j “Nonsense!” he smiled pleasantly, “It’s the dam, the great dam above ! Hie South Fork! Look out at the I branch!” and she tore past him. The girls were already storing wild-I !y into one another’s faces, for a new din, the roar of a raging river, min* gled with the whir and clatter of the machinery. lives!” “Run for your their They rushed to the street and fled various ways, One, Tan. half para¬ lyzed, clung to Weaser “The railroad bridge is high and very strong.” From both sides peo¬ ple were crowding upon it. struggling Only a moment—but in it, to that freight eternity—and cityful, terror enough her to around her fainting Louise, charge arm stood upon the bridge. Then the dam sur¬ rendered its last defense and pande¬ monium plunged into the valley. The work of rescue was going on. The young doctor had not lain down, they said, fca - two days and two nights. He was everywhere, directing, com¬ manding, executing. Some sixty rods below where the bridge had been was a wooded knoll, for which the branch in its peaceful days had turned tran¬ pilod quilly aside. A mass of drift was there now, sand and soil; trees, cattle and the wrecks of homes; stone buttress; brace and girder and stanohion of steel and human flesh and blood—wisps of straw flipped aside by the torrent, the discarded playthings of a moment. Gangs of men were sorting it over. A bit of blue cambric caught Ralph’s eye. He knew it, for his mother had worn it once. “Careful there, careful,”he warned, pressing in among the laborers, “take away that piece of roofing. Not your axe, man! For heaven’s sake don’t use that! There’s a young girl lying just beneath! Help me lift it, half a dozen of you—so—that will do.” He scooped away some debris with his hands and wiped the soil from the dead face. “Thank God, there’s no mutilation, That iron beam thore twisted like a thread—it confines the arm. Set your lever just here. Steady-steady; that will do. “Now, some one help me carry her. Not you, Van Courtlandt; some one with an awful sorrow tugging at his heart. You’ll do, McCall. lift “Gently, my man, tenderly as you’ll that little girl Of yours when you find her. Lay her here, McCall. “One moment more, my friend. Here’s a pillow, soft ami white and frilled, a dainty thing—Marguerite sent it. Put it into place while I lift the head. Now the spread—thank you, McCall.” NVeaser Tan lay in her coffin; her face as plain ii) deatli as in life, but more serene. Ralph stood and looked at her wonderingly and sadly. His old dog came and, whining, laid his muzzle in his hand. “Yes, Don, you’ve lost ft friend. She loved you.” Marguerite came softly in. “Here’s something else she loved,” she said. “They say she would not sleep without it under her.pillow.” He opened tho little box she gave him, gazed into it for a moment, touched its contents tenderly, then tucked them under some roses that lay upon her breast. They were a pair of gray yarn mit¬ tens and a blue-jay’s wing.—Short Stories. WORDS^ OF WISDOM. It is difficult to say who does the most mischief, enemies with the worsi* intentions or friends with the best. Huoh as thy words are, such will thy affections be; such thy deeds as thy affections, such thy life as thy deeds. There is a great struggle - between vanity and patience when wo have to meet a person who admires us but who bores us. One of tho highest mountains upon which we may stand in this life, is to be able to look back upon a long life well spent. Beware of prejudices. Aman’smind is like a rat trap; prejudices creep in easily, but it is doubtful if thoy ever got out again. Want of prudence is too frequently the want of virtue; nor is there on earth a more powerful advocate for vice than poverty. Don’t get tho notion that you are the greatest person in creation. There are plenty of other people who are just as Rmall as you are. The worst penalty of evil doing is to grow into likeness with the bad; for each man’s soul changes according to the nature of his deeds, for bettor or for worse. Patient, hopeful waiting is hard work when it is the only work possible to us in an emergency. But patient waiting is in its time the highest duty of a faithful soul. A good and wise man will at times be angry with the world, and also grieved at it; but no man can ever be long discontented with the world if he does his duty iu it. We should so live and labor in our time that what comes to us as seed may go to the next generation as blossom, and that what came to us as blossom may go to them as fruit. This is what we mean by progress. Many ideas grow better when trans¬ planted into another mind than in tlie one where they sprang up. That which was a weed iu one intelligence becomes a flower in another, and a flower again dwindles to a mere weed by the same change.—The Houth-West. Tlie Tramp Worked t lie Dentist. To work on the sympathies of a dentist who was at first hardhearDH, a tramp at St. Joseph, Mo., asked him to pull out two of liis teeth which were filled with gold; for, he asked, of whal use were gold-filled teeth if one ha nothing on which to use them? Thi; appealed him so to tho dentist that he gave some money instead of drawing the teeth. WILLIAM RECEIVES A COMMEKfl* CATION FROM AN OLD FRIEND, INTERESTING GEORGIA HISTORY. Incident* WluVh Occurred When Indiana lloamed the Forest* of the Empire State of the South* I thought that almost everybody was dead but me, especially since Judge Clark died, the man of memories, the historian, the jurist, the amiable and lovablo citizen. I want his book as soon as Mrs. AVyly has it published. I know it will be a treasure to the old people, and should be to the young. I thought that all my contemporaries who were familiar with the public af* fa:rs of fifty and sixty years ago were dead, but I was mistaken. Quite a flood of historic letters have come to me of late from venerable and scholar¬ ly men who have awakened from their long retirement and write me some and most interesting recollections of men events of bygone days, What careful, artistic penmanship illumines most of these letters, reminding me of my father’s, and John McPherson Berrien’s, and Henry R. Jackson's and others who were trained to write by the schoolmasters of the olden time. Here is a long and scholarly letter from Mr. S. P. Hale, of Madisonville, Tenn., who is now in his seventy- fourth year, and whose father was an officer in the army that moved the Cherokees beyolid the Mississippi river. It took mtlny months for the soldiers to gather these Indians to¬ gether, for they kept in hiding as lotlg as possible, and while this was going nil Mr. Hale’s father and his family wore located at New Eehota, in what is now Gordon county. “We lived,” says Mr. Hale, “iu a house that my father rented from Boudinot, and he purchased from him many articles of handsome furniture, among which was a heavy folding leaf dining table made of cherry wood and finished in artistic style, This table has been in the fam¬ ily ever since and is now iu my house, and on it we eat our humble meals three times a day. I prize it highly as a souvenir of my childhood, for I was then only 12 years old. I remember well n cvlii^ Mi . X> > • iAft 1 11 v< vi *■ ' r> - and other notable Indians in confer¬ ence there. Ridge was tall, erect and copper-colored; nose equiline, eyes black and piercing, and hair straight, black and coarse. Ho dressed like a white man and spoke broken English fluently. His father was an Indian, bis mother a half breed, and he was educated at a Moravian mission school. “Boudinot was not so tali, but was a heavier, broader man with attractive features and polished manners. He dressed stylishly, wore a tall silk hat and spoke English in its purity. He published a newspaper at New Eehota in the Indian dialect, and we boys did often play with the type. Boudinot, whose Indian name was Charles Vann, was of mixed blood, and while at the mission school attracted the attention of Elias Boudinot, a wealthy gentle¬ man of Philadelphia, who adopted him and gave him his Huguenot name. This is the same philanthropist who was the founder and first president of the American Bible Society, and gave it $10,000 to start on. His will con¬ tained many bequests to charity, and among them one of $2,000 to provide spectacles for poor old women. “But can you tell me anything of Paschal—Lieutenant Paschal. I think he was a Georgian. He was there at New Eehota on General Wood’s staff as aide do cainp and came thore with Captain Derrick’s company from Dah- lonega. He fell desperately in love with John Ridge’s only daughter, Sa¬ rah, a beautiful and lovely girl, and the best horsewoman I ever saw. He courted her and married her there. They spent some time at our house and their marriage was quite a roman¬ tic episode in our monotonous life. During their courtship she one day expressed a desire to ride my father’s horse, ‘Mucklo John,’ a steed of blood and mettle. My father reluctantly consented and for her safety had a bridle with a very severe bit put on him. Paschal v as mounted on a fast Indian pony and they were soon away and out of sight. They rode five or six miles to the big spring, and when about to return the happy, laughing gin pTopt*'e<l to swap bridles and lei Muokle John go as fast as he pleased. PaRchal tried to exchange without her dismounting, liut the moment Muckl* John found his mouth free he gave a snort and started home on a wild oan- ter. Tn vain did Paschal try to over¬ ride his sweetheart, ft was a John Gilpin race and Muckle John never slackened his speed until ho reached the horse block where his rider had mounted. Blie was wild with laughter and excitement and deejared it was the finest lido of her life and that when Hie horse got tired she lashed him on. But poor Paschal did not for a long time recover from tlie shock,for be feared he would never see his dar¬ ling alive any more. “Paschal and his bride went west, and many y ars ogo I road something about a Judge Paschal out in Texas. Is he the same man?” I supposo that lie was, for Paschal did live in Texas for several years am) published a paper in Austin, and in 1859 contributed largely to the election of his friend, Ham Houston, as gover¬ nor. He settled first in Arkansas and practiced law and soon won distinction and was elected judge of the supreme court in 1841. In 1809 he removed to Washington city aud founded the law department of Georgetown University T. P. GREEN. MANAGER. amt became its president and there received the degree of LL.D. He published and compiled many law I books and also wrote a biography of j pride General that Sam Houston. It is with | we give this sketch of this notable and gifted man, for ho was n Georgian born in Greene county, edu¬ cated at Mercer and admitted to the bar in 1831 at Washington, in Wilkes county. He died in 1872. I wonder if there were any quadroon children born to his Indian wife. No doubt he has relatives living iu Georgia who can tell. In perusing these ancient records I find that Governor Troup; the noblest Roman of them all, was a full-blooded cousin to that famous Indian chief- tain, Genera! William McIntosh, and that the general’s father was, as is usual, a Scotchman who took atl In¬ dian wife. Governor Troup’s mother and McIntosh’s father were brother and sister. McIntosh was chief of the Creeks, and like Ridge ami Boudinot was assassinated for signing the treaty that ceded the Creek lands to Georgia. I tell you, these Scotchmen, or Scotoh- Irish, as George Adair calls them, were on the wild hunt for Indinn «ives, and they had the pick and took the best of them. Even Osceola was the son of a Scotchman. Maybe my friend George Adair has a streak of injuu blood in him, who knows? If Evan Howell hasn’t, then all signs fail in the face. It is sad to realize that in a few years more not a man or woman will be left who mingled with the aboriginal owners of Georgia soil—tlieRO Creeks and Cherokees and Seminoles, who gave kind welcome to our ancestors, only to be despoiled of their homes— not a man left to tell of their trials and tribulations. Big John Underwood, the Roman ruuagee, who fled from the foul inva¬ der and for lack of any better trans¬ portation drove a steer In the shafts of a one-horso wagon, and for lack of harness bored a liole through the dash¬ board and drew the steer’s tail through and tied the end in a knot., used to tell me many stories about the indians, for lie lived among them away back in the 30’s. He, too, tried to marry an Indian maiden, bathe wasn’t a Scotcli- man and couldn’t shoot the crossbow nor the long bow and so sbe wouldn’t have him, These Indians had grent admiration for the arehef’s skill. I old remember Indian visiting the wigwam of an on Sttwny’a I, mountain, near Gumming, Ga. too, was then a lad of twelve years and got the old iny young cousins, fiplitting (Be up¬ per end of a small stick that was about three feet long, I inserted a silver quarter in the split and stuck the other end iu the ground. At thirty yards the boys would hit the quar¬ ter with an arrow almost every time, and, of course I gave it to them. How did they over learn to do this? I asked of tile old man, They begin, he said, almost as soon as they can walk. First they shoot at a big tree, and then a smaller one, and then a still smaller one, and keep on from year to yeur until they can knock out a squirrel’s Smith eye. In 1840 I Mississippi, visited an uncle in Cottnty, and found a remnant of the Obiekfl- saws there. They were friendly and kind and very expert in killing deer by shining their eyes at night. My cousins and I wej t with them one night, lmt yearling unhappily they shined the eyes of a calf that belonged t@ ono of the neighbors amt shot him. It mortified and troubled them very much, but as they went hunting on our account, we quieted their fears by paying for the calf the next day. I forgot to mention that Elias Bou¬ dinot, the philanthropist, wrote a very learned treatise to prove that the Indians of North America all descend¬ ed from the lost tribes of Israel, and his book made many converts to that belief. And now tlie sad news comes that General Avery is dead—my gonial, loving friend of forty years—a man whom I always loved to meet whether I was in the office or the counting room or on the sidewalk. How full of good, pleasant cheer he was. What kind greetings he always gavo. What thoughtful comments on men and the events of the day. Georgia ran ill afford to lose such men as General Avery and Judge Clark, but still the world moves on. “Close up, closo up!” is tlie word from the Great Com¬ mander, and the gaps that deatli makes in our ranks are closed and soon for¬ gotten.—Bu.i Anr in Atlanta Consti¬ tution. ’’High Water Bill” Moorhead. William H. Moorhead, better known during later years as “High Water Bill,” has just, died at his home iu Pembina, North Dakota, after an ill ness of six months. This sobriquet be gained by his numerous prophecies' as to just how high the water in the Red River would rise each year, aud, be it said, his predictions were usually not far astray. As an incident in this line it is said that this spring, before tlie snow melted, as he was lying in his bed on the lower floor of his house, talking “high water” to a vis¬ itor, he reached down about half way on one of his bod posts and said: “You’ll see the water up to this spot when the snow melts,” and his predic¬ tion was verified. He refused to lie carried up stairs until the water came in on the floor. Mr. Moorhead was a typical fron¬ tiersman and a general favorite. Tho history of the lved Rivor valley would be far from complete,without an inter¬ esting reference to a man who was known far and wide for his genial good nature and interesting stories of the pioneer life in the northwest.— 8t. Paul Pioneer Press. An old ’possum; w.th fifteen youiq ones, was caught >u a henhouse r Franklin. Ind. EVERY TRAIN CROWDED WITH FLEEING REFUGEES. THE PEOPLE ARE PUNIC STRICKEN New Cases and Additional Deaths at Ocean Springs, Edwards and New Orleans—Plague In Cairo, III. The announcement of eleven new cases of yellow fever at Mobile, Ala , Sunday, following so closely on a sim¬ ilar number Saturday, and the fact that the twenty-four hours had found one victim, combined to bring the panic which commenced in the middle of last week to its zenith. depopulated, Monday found the city closed, practically many stores and wholesale business entirely suspended, while retailers are apprehensive of utter ruin. There may have been worse days in Mobile, but the oldest inhabitant fails to remember them. The outlook npw is gloomy in the extreme, not because of the present fever aspect, but because of the entire suspension of commerce and partial stoppage of business. * Every one who can afford it, with the exception of those whose callings compel them to remain, has sought re¬ fuge in cities beyond the state. People in the city now do not fear the fever, but they tremble for its con¬ sequences. Mayor Loft tli« Town. Even the government head has refu- geed, and if a meeting of the general council were to be called no quorum would'be found to respond. There is one courageous band, of which Judge Price Williams is the leader, which remains with the stricken city in her hour of trial. They have fought epidemics before. Some of them went into the front ranks against the southern scourge in 1853 and are gray headed men now, and the constancy ami heroism which they have formerly exhibited is still to be witnessed. These Spartans are en¬ couraging, by all means in their power, those who consider themselves unfort¬ unate in not having the means to de¬ sert their homes. fever at Edwards’, Miss., Saturday morning, ono of them being just out¬ side of town. A total of thirty-nine cases doctors. are pro¬ nounced yellow fever by tlie The rapid spread of the disease is re¬ markable, and it is now well distribut¬ ed through the town. Four new cases were reported Sunday. The fever situation at New Orleans underwent little change Sunday. The record book in the board of health office showed a total of six new cases and one death. A special from Cairo, Ill., states that Dr. Guiteras, the yellow fever expert, arrived there from Mobile at noon Sunday, and announced two suspicious cases at the marine hospi¬ tal to be yellow fever of a mild form, but owing to the prompt measure taken there is no danger of the pest spread¬ ing. The hospital is thoroughly guarded. ROAD CONGRESS ADJOURNS. Tim Parliament Will Meet In Omaha Next Year. At tho national road parliament iu session, at Knoxville Friday, convict labor in building roads and govern¬ ment aid were discussed. Experimen¬ tal road bedding was advocated. Reso¬ lutions recommending state aid and aid by tlie general govenment aud a restricted use of convict labor were adopted. re-elected General Roy Stone was president; E. Rosewater, Omaha, vice president, and tho following state presidents: Kernochan. Alabama—W. J. Georgia—George W, Harrison. Kentucky M. II. Crump. Michigan—A. Campbell. Minnesota—William M. Hayes. Indiana—Governor James A. Mount. Nebraska G. 0. Turner. South Carolina—W. C. Cain. Virginia—B. Chambers. Blackstock. Wisconsin—Thomas B. Tennessee—Governor R. L, Taylor. The next meeting will be in Omaha, subject to the call of tho executive committee. “HAD POLICY,” SAYS BACON, Is the Appointment of Colored Men to OMce ill the South. Senator Bacon, of Georgia, has a signed interview in the New York Herald, iu which he says in part: i ,' The appointment of colored men to office in the south will certainly lead to race antagonisms and estrange¬ ments which would otherwise not ex¬ ist. Such appointments are of small benefit to the few negroes thus ap¬ pointed, and are of very great injury to the masses of the negroes in the ill feeling engendered between them and the whites, upon whose friendship and good will they are wholly depend¬ ent.” INDIANA FACTORIES RESUME. Wire Natl anil Lamp Clilmney Works He- £in Operations Anew. A dispatch of Sunday from Ander¬ son, Ind., says: The American wire nail works, employing 700 men, the Lippincott lamp chimney plant, which works 400 men aud the McBeth lamp chimney works with a like number of men on its rolls, have resumed in full blast after a shut down of some two months and a half.
