Newspaper Page Text
T. A. HAVRON, Publisher.
UNCLE SILE’S FOURTH.
[Original.!
I mind back in Maine if ye said a man lied
He was for settin' right down an’ arguin' It
out,
But here if ye happen to let that word slide
He’s for knockin' ye down an’ kickcn’ ye
’bout!
Of this snap jes a drap
Was born in my Saraett's spirit no doubt
A bachelor I was an’ a widder was she,
A widder of oncommon peartness of pace.
With a high-strung nose that was lovely to see.
An’ eyes that burnt stiddy as stars in ’er face,
Though in time they’d jes shine
As meller as moons when I’d pass by ’er
place.
Then, whether by chance or by plan I’ll not say,
She presently rented the house next to me,
A cot ’an big yard where her offsprings could
play.
Two twins full of war-whoops, chained-lightnin’
an’ glee;
That I'd ache for love’s sake
Was a raw an' exceedingly plain thing to see.
*' * # f-A -,;J-
For honey an’ love are alike in one thing,
They gripe if conditions ain’t jes about square,
Still we gether the roses an’ let the thorns
sting
in fac' the more stingers the more we get
there,
As with me when I see
She was sot round with thorns she seemed
doubly fair.
I dreamed of her nights, an’ sich dreams as was
soft—
A kind of mixed haze, meller twilight, an’
hair,
An’ I'd waken plum crazy, a settin' up oft
Jes huggin' myself like a loonafled bear,
An’ I’d thrill an’ git chill,
An’ my best pantaloons was all I could wear.
I kep bees, so I giv the widder a hive,
An’ presented the twins game chickens an’
toys,
An’ they burnt down my barn an’ dug up my
drive.
All for fun, understan’, an’ kep sich a noise
Neighbors moved, as behoved;
Still I courted the widder an’ them air two
boys.
But politics split us at last like a wedge,
Like wedges, also, we was cold—save at heart.
Least I was warm there an’ ready to hedge.
But it takes a smart doctor to heal sich a
* smart.
An’ we cooled an jes fooled
’Till at last we seemed splintered ontirely
apart.
My doctrine was somewhat at fault I expect,
For I was a bit coolish to ole Uncle Sam,
For things’d not gone to my mind jes correct,
An’ sometimes, fac’ of’en, I couldn’t keep
cam,
Then she’d rile and jes bile
An’ so with our tongues we’d thrash an’ ker
lam.
Then she got 'er a flag an’ raised it on high
An’ kep it afiyin’ above her coal-bin,
As if to betoken her body might die
But to doctrines like mine she’d never giv in,
An’ the twins raised wild dins
On drums made of nail-kegs head-ended with
tin.
There's nothing that tares one so all Into strings
As bein’ at outs with the one ye adore;
W y I walked in my sleep an' said awful things,
An’ slept in my boots an’ got yeller an’ pore,
An’ my head got like lead
An' each hair in it pulled an’ my liver got sore.
Then I made up my mind I surely must die
If soon with the widder I didn't get straight;
But time to my help brought the Fourth of July,
An’ focussed us in from our scatterized state,
Though I thought it had brought
The last straw to lay on my camel-backed
fate.
Well, it come awful hot. as Fourths mostly do,
With"lemo” an’ sweat, white dresses, an',
dust;
To the aged a vast an’ oneomfortuble stew,
The world to the young on its annual bust.
As for me. I am free
To declare I’d thought it a thing to be kussed!
The twins turned out early, an’ land of the
brave!
Before half an hour I seemed goin’ insane.
An’ plugged up my hearing my reason to save;
But things kep afirin’ inside of my brain.
An’ my hair pulled like care
earth seemed a tinpin' an' twistin’ in pain,
Jesthen a big swarm of my bees they took flight,
Aa’ I snatched up a pan an’ rushed through
the door.
An' yelled lik a Mohawk to make 'em alight
An’ run lookin' uppards, an' made the pan
roar,
An’, though I didn’t know
The widder'a swarm' ' too, an’ outside she
jes tore.
She'd a biler ’pon which she smote with a club
An’ each twin Hun* gravel an' yelled like a
clown.
An’, though I didn’t see, she fell over a tub
An’ then in a bucket of soapsuds slid down.
While I caught all unsought
My chin od a clothes line eu’ hung like a
bean.
But I drapped in a trice an’ got up an' run
An’ yelled an’ slung dirt like a plum loonatex.
When all of a suddent things generally spun
As I banged into somethin’ that splintered
my specks,
For yo see her an’ me
Run into one nuther jes fit to break necks!
My arms went around her, my nose in ’er car,
An’ down in the biler I suddenly sat,
With her in my lap jes as if in a cheer,
With my pan jammed onto her head like a
hat.
It was rich, an’ all sich,
But ruthercramped quarters to lovingly chat.
But still we sot there an’ forgot 'bo it the bees,
An’ she gazed in my eyes an’ yearned a great
yearn,
An’ though I was cramped like I giv her a
squeeze,
An’she squeezed right back an’ I felt I was
hern.
But I was jammed an’ jes crammed
So fur in that biler I couldn’t nigh turn.
Then I kinder got up-lik an’ she an’ the twins
With boards pried that biler from of’en my
back;
The skin that went with it want ofen my shins.
An’ I felt for a minute this life was a fae’.
Still for her I’d incur—
At least I would then—the worst pangs of the
rack.
Then we looked for the bees, an’ there on a fold
Of the flag of the coal-bin afloatin’ so brave
They hung in the sun like a bushel of gold.
“The flag of one union!" I sighed, sort of
grave.
“Yes," she said, with checks red.
“It’s a flag that means Dusiness, long may it
wave!” a. M. Kerr.
A MEMORABLE FOURTH.
Some Interesting Reminiscences of
War Times.
[Original.!
The Fourth of July is the birthday
of a Nation, and we always celebrate
birthdays at our house. There is the
paternal and the maternal, and ten
lively children, every one of whom had
birthdays, and it is a good idea to
show their consequence and increase
their self-respect, and so we generally
invite some friends or kindred, and
have something extra good for dinner.
It is a good long time since the Na
tion was born, and it has had some
right sick spells, and a few years ago
it liked to have died, and it had an
awful hemorrhage; but it.is all right
now, and so we are going to celebrate
it as usual.
But I remember that about twenty
three years ago we didn’t celebrate it
with much hilarity. In fact we were
not at home for company, and not very
much at home at all, and didn’t have
time to celebrate any thing, for the
foul invader was after us, and we were
making tracks, and the tracks were
wide apart. Me and my numerous
and lovely wife and offspring were
flying in haste over a dirt road in a
one-horse rockawav and a two-mule
wagon, and it looked like we were
trying to get round the foul invaders
to head ’em off and drive ’em back,
but we wasn’t. An old-fashioned dirt
road is the best sort for a runagee, for
it forks every few miles, and you can
■J _ g
“WE MUST FIGHT.”
take any fork you -please and dodge
around and bide out, but when you
are on a railroad you can 1 1. We never
stopped for the Fourth of July or
any thing else, but kept driving before
and looking behind until we got dis
tance between us, and distance is a
good thing on such occasions. We
traveled by day and right smart at
night, and dually felt safe enough and
tired enough to take the oars for At
lanta and send our teams to a place of
safety. The train was crowded with
runagees, and I found but one vacant
place after I had located my numerous
and interesting family. A luxurious
lady, with some aggravating curls, was
occupying nearly all of a seat, spread
ing herself like a setting hen all over
the velvet cushion.
“Madam,” said I, “can 1 share this
seat with you?” She saw that I was
pretty good looking and said: “Certain
ly, sir,” and she closed in her skirts
some several inches.
In a short space of time she became
affected with drowiuess and her ala
baster neck became as limber aa a
greasy rag. leaning on my shoulder
she seemed wonderfully affectionate as
her head kept bobbing around, and I
felt very peculiar at such times as the
curving road would cause her to sub
side onto my palpitating bosom. Her
aggravating curls were getting tangled
up with my whiskers when about this
critical juncture 1 ventured to turn my
astonished gaze towards Mrs. Arp,
and seeing that she wan waiting for
sonic remark 1 whispereu: “Hadn’t
TRENTON, DADE COUNTY, GA., FRIDAY, JULY 1. 1887.
I better remove my seat—do you think
that I can endure the like of this?”
“1 do not, William,” said she. “You
had better stand up awhile and when
you get tired some of the children will
relieve you.”
The glance of her eye and the tone
of her voice caused me to assume a
perpendicular attitude and the curly
head was left without a prop. A man’s
wife is the best judge of such peculiar
things, and as for me I am always gov
erned by it.
About the time’ we arrived in AG
lanta the foul invader had crossed the
river on his pontoons and the next day
began his attack. We thought that
we had come to a city of refuge, a
citadel of hope, but there is nothing
certain in the sublunary world, noth
ing except death and taxes. So I
shipped my family further on and
pulled off my coat and rolled up ray
sleeves and swore that this thing hail
gone far enough. In the language of
Patrick Henry I exclaimed: “Sir, we
must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must
tight! How dare old Tecumseh to
cross that river. It is our river and
our land and our State. I repeat it,
gentlemen, we must fight!” and I
popped my fist in the palm of my
hand. About that time the first big
shells commenced scattering their un
feeling contents among the subui’bs,
and I rolled down my sleeves and put
on my coat again. Then came the big
panics; then shrieked the man-eater;
then howled the wild hyena among the
hills of Babylon. All sorts of people
seemed moving in all sorts of ways
with accelerated motion. They gained
on their shadows as they run, and their
legs grew longer at every step. “How
many miles to Millwright?” said L
But no response came, for their legs
were as long as light, and every burst
ing shell was an old witch on the road.
Cars were the all in all. Depots were
the center of space. The passenger
depot was thronged with anxious seek
ers for transportation. “Won’t you
let these boxes go as baggage?” “No,
madam, it is impossible.” Just then
a family trunk as big as a bureau was
moved in and the poor woman got
desperate. “All I’ve got ain’t as
heavy as that,” she said, “and I’m a
poor widow and my husband was
killgd in the army.” We took up her
boxes and shoved them in in spite of
the baggageman.
Everywhere was hurrying to and
fro at a lively tune. “What’s to-day,
nigger?” said a female darkey with a
hoopskirt on her arm. “Taint no day
honey dat eber 1 seed; yistiddy was
Sunday and I reckon to-day is Runday
from the way de white folks is movin’
about. Yah! Yah! Ain’t afeerd of
dem Yankees, I ain’t, but dem sizzin.
bumshells kill a nigger fore you can
lick your tongue out; gwine to giC
away frum here, I is.” *
1 went into a doctor’s shop and found
my friend packing up his vials and
medicine. An old skeleton with but
one leu was swinging from the top of
a long box in the corner, looking likiA
a mournful emblem of the troubled!
city. J
“Are you going to leave him to
stand guard?” said I. “1 suppose I
will,” said h<*. “for I’ve got no trans
portation for him.”
“Take that screw out his skull,”
said I, “and give him a crutch and he’ll
travel. All flesh is moving, ami I think
the bones will catch the contagion
soon.”
A few doors further a venerable auc
tioneer was surveying the rushing,
running crowd, and every now and then
would raise his arm and exclaim: “Go
ing, going, going, gone—who’s the
bidder?” “Old Father Time,” said I.
“He’ll get them all before long.”
The door of an old friend's residence
-swung open to my gaze, and l walked
in. Various gentlemen were discuss
ing the foul invader over a jug of de
parting spirits. “I believe I'll un
pack,” said one; “ding’d if I'm afraid
of a blue-tailed fly. I'm going to sit
down and be easy.” “In a horn,” said
1. Just then a sizzin, singing, crazy
shell sung a short meter hymn right
over the house. “Jake, has that dray
come?’’ he shouted, as he bounced to
his feet. “Confound that dray, blame
my skin if I'll ever get a dray to move
these things. Boys let’s take another
drink?”
After the drink another hero re
marked: “Boys, lets stay and sec it
out —burned if it don't look cowardly
to run.” He poured another spirit
from the jug and said: “Boys, who
shall we drink to?” “Cassabianca,”
said I. “Good—good!” they shouted.
“Lets drink toCabasianka, I’ve spoke
it a thousand times.” He mounted on
a broken sofa and declaimed:
“ The boy stood burning on the deck
Whence all had fled but him.’’
“That’s me,” said one. “It’s me
exactly,” said another. “I am Caba
sianker myself—dog my cat if I don’t
be the last one to leave this ship.” An
other shell sizzed and bursted a few
yards off. “Boys, lets take one more
drink and leave the dogoned town —
dadburu the Yankees.” Here's to —
here’s to. "The last of the Mohicans,”
said 1. ‘That’s it, said he, here’s to
the—mast of the Lohieans.”
By and bv the shells fell thick and
fast and caused a more speedy locomo
tion in the excited throng that hurried
by the door, but my friends inside had
passed the Rubicon and one by one re
tired to dream of Bozzaris and his
Suliote band. Vacant rooms and long
corridors echoed with their snores and
they appeared like sleeping heroes in
the halls of the Montczumas.
Panics are catching—there is no mis
take about it. It is not one man in a
thousand who can resist them and re
tain his philosophy and be calm and
serene. Napoleon said that all men
were cowards by night. Some are
cowards by day, both in mind and
body. And some who are cowards in
body are sustained in mind and will
power and dare to be brave. General
Dick Taylor, who never faltered, says
of hinwelf that he never went into bat
tle but what his cowardly frame trem
bled and quaked from head to foot.
Just before a battle he would look at
his shaking knees with contempt and
“THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS.”
say: “You cowardly scamps, what are
you shaking now for, why don’t you
wait until you are in danger?” He
says that, if he had given them the
slightest encouragement, his legs
would have run away with his body
every time.
But panics are worse than a battle;
more demoralizing. I have seen the
shaking Quakers going through their
pious motions and peculiar attitudes.
I have curiously watched and waited
for the first shake of the spiritual leg.
Then another and another would catch
the delicious tremblings until the en
tire assembly were shuffling their ex
tremities in hysteric beauty. Just so
the leg panics seemed to inspire the
good Atlanta. The first
good shakeAjflmt Peach Tree
was a soon spread
its awful trembles from the barracks
to the Fair grounds, sweeping in its all
gathering course the excited popula
tion who peopled its busy streets. All
day and all night long the iron horses
were snorting to the echoing breeze.
Train after train of goods and chattels
down the roads, there was no
metluW in their madness. All kinds
of plunder were tumbled in promiscu
ously. A huge parlor mirror was set
tip at the end of a car and reflected an
assortment of pots and kettles and bar
rels and baskets and bacon and bed
steads, all piled up together. Govern
ment officials all have friends, and of
course they had the preference. Any
clever man, with a charming wife or
pretty sister, could secure a corner in
more cars than one, and I will men
tion that I have found a good deal ol
civility on this account myself. In
deed, I have always thought that no
man is excusable, who has not goi
either the one or the other.
Bill Arp.
A Facetious Horse.
He was always delighted, too, when
he could tease or frighten any other
horse. Many a time I have seen him,
after dancing and pawing and going
sideways, or tail first, as he always did
at starting out, suddenly sober down,
sidle up to Mr. Romayne’s big horse,
Zampa, and walk along as quiet and
demure as a cat, until Mr. Romayne
would say: “Why, Jo, you’re really
getting that pony quiet.” Quick as a
flash Toddie would seize Zampa’s curb
rein between his teeth, give it a fearful
jerk, then jump off to the other side of
the road and stand there, like a per
son that is splitting his sides with
laughter. You never could tell what
that pony mightn’t do next.
—" -
—Says an exchange: “An old dea
con was asked the other day: ‘How do
von like your pastor?’ ‘First rate,’ he
replied, ‘except in one thing.’ ‘What’s
that?’ ‘lt is till'.’ continued the dea
con; ‘the Lord never made him to tell
jokes, and yet he insists on telling
them. I never like to laugh when I
don’t want to laugh. And yet I have to
do it constantly, just to save the pas
tor’s feelings.' ” —Christian Union.
—Miss Shawsgardeti (of St. Louis) —
“Your size is No. 5, is it not, Miss
Breezy?” Miss Breezy (of Chicago)—
“Ye-es, I may find a No. 5 desirable at
this season of the year; but when I
have occasion to refer to tho melo
drahma I don’t say ‘draymy.’ ” —A.
Sun.
0. M. TUTTLE EXPOSED.
Somethin; About the Man Who Proposes
to Inault President Cleveland.
Who is “ General ” J. M. Tuttle, of
Iowa? The circumstances that excite
public interest in this question are
briefly as follows: There is soon to be
a large gathering of Union veterans at
St. Louis. Prominent citizens, think
ing the occasion a favorable one to
carry out a resolution which they had
formed last year, appointed a delega
tion to wait on the President and in
vite him to be present. The commit
tee went to Washington, extended the
invitation and were informed by Mr.
Cleveland that if nothing untoward
happened it would give him great
pleasure to accept. When the news
of the President’s favorable reply was
received it made every body feel hap
py, with the exception of a small band
of ineorrigibles, of whom “ General ”
J. M. Tuttle seems to be the self-ap
pointed mouth-piece. It threw them
into a state of ulceration and the Gen
eral on his own and their behalf imme
diately declared that if Mr. Cleveland
attended the St. Louis encampment, he
and his fellows would “ snub and in
sult” him, for the reason that they
couldn't abide a “copperhead Presi
dent.” Furthermore he denounced
and assailed with great energy of jaw
both General Cox, of Ohio, and Gen
eral Chamberlain, of Maine.
Who, then, is this “General” J. M.
Tuttle, of lowa, whose over-boiling
loyalty takes such umbrage at tlie
courtesy extended to Mr. Cleveland by
the citizens of St. Louis? To-day he is
an obstreperous member of the legion
of lowa veterans, but twenty-four years
ago,when the country was at the white
heat of war, he was the Democratic
nominee for Governor of lowa. Against
him the Republicans had placed in
nomination William M. Stone. The
lowa soldiers in the lield were called
upon to say which of these two candi
dates they preferred. Five regiments
voted in obedience to the call. It must
have been a trying crisis for the super
sensitive Tuttle. These men were his
neighbors. They had watched his
course, studied his character and knew
him thoroughly. Their decision would
stamp the quality of that loyalty
which, afteyp nearly a quarter
of a century, he ventures to
set above the loyalty of soldiers like
Generals Cox and Chamberlain. When
the ballots were counted it appeared
that Tuttle had received just 49 votes,
while his opponent obtained 1,608.
Later on, during the piping days of
reconstruction, when the strength of
every public man’s devotion to the
Union cause, was tested in the alembic
of a tierce public opinion, Tuttle chal
lenged a second ordeal. Then the
•gallant Maine soldier whom he
now denounces had just been
elected Governor of his native
State by an unprecedented majority,
and of the enthusiastic convention
of soldiers and sailors assembled at
Pittsburgh on the 2oth of September,
1866, General Cox was chairman.
That convention passed resolutions ex
pressing joy that the great mass of
those who had worn the im form op
posed thq policy of Andrew John
son. Perhaps it is the memory of this
convention that wives edwe to the bit-
O O
terness of Tuttle’s attack on General
Cox, for the former was at this very
time a delegate to the Philadelphia
gathering of so-called Andrew John
son “Copperheads,” and also the
“Copperhead” candidate for Congress
from the Fifth District of lowa.
In the face of such a record. Tuttle’s
threat to “snub and insult” Mr. Cleve
land, and his audacity in accusing him
of being a “copperhead President,”
are the very absurdity of malevolence.
He is an example of a class of men
who seek to atone for their doubtful
loyalty if the days when the Nation’s
life stake bv exhibiting an ex
aggerated spirit of devotion after the
danger and conflict are over. The
fraud betrays itself by the excesses to
which it goes. The distrust of Tuttle
which’ the lowa soldiers showed by
their votes in the lield is doubly justi
fied by his post bellum impudence and
folly. It is a fair assumption that his
heart was not in the cause and that
the recklessness with which he now
assails veterans of unimpeachable loy
alty is a proof of the dislike which a
pretender always feels for sincere and
honest men.— Brooklyn Eagle.
President a wav from the encampment
very many veterans of both political
parties will sever their connection with
an order which will then have been
shown to be political in its character
and management. —General Drake, U.
8. Grant Post 93, G. A. R.
The Pennsylvania Republican
Governor shows what he thinks of a
Republican Legislature. He thinks it
would be cheaper for the orate to lose
a couple of millions of dollars than
have the Legislature in session again.
— N. Y. World.
The Republican organs are deej>-
ly agitated over the prospect that the
, people of Rhode Island will get a free
ballot and a fair count. Well, they
urny be,- Boston Globe.
VOL. [V.-NO. 19.
PICKED UP AT RANDOM.
What the I’rMi of the Country Thinks
About Sherman's Springfield Talk.
Richmond (Va.) Stale: Sherman is
the arch South-hater of his time.
Chicago News: For President in 1888:
John Sherman of Ohio. Platform: “I
and my mouth against any two.”
Alexandria (Va.) Gazette: His nopo
of support from the South having been
dissipated, his sole reliance Ls now
upon the North.
Chicago Tribune: John Sherman is a
great man . but his Presidential boom
appears to be frozen hard enough to
skate on already.
Petersburg (Va.) Index-Appeal: The
further John Sherman gets away from
the South the more his speeches seem
to be dominated by the spirit of Miss
’Liza Pinkston.
Indianapolis News: There is much
I hat is old and little that is new in his
speech. His aim is to convince his
party that he is the man who should be
its next National nominee.
Chicago Herald: John Sherman ought
to be ashamed to make a speech like
that at Springfield to people who are in
the habit of thinking with their heads.
He is two far West, evidently.
Fort Worth (Tex.) Gazette: While
it must be conceded that Mr. Sherman
is an able man, and that his speech is
skillfully constructed, even his own
party will realize that it is antiquat d.
Nashville (Tcnn.) Banner: With
all his acknowledged ability as a
statesman, lie is weak and small
enough as a politician to pander to the
lowest prejudice to boost himself into
the Presidency.
New York Herald: Senator Sher
man’s great speech in Springfield, 111.,
will probably prove to be the banana
peel of his political career. The
future will be accomplished in three
movements —a slip up, a slip down
and a slip out.
Savannah (Ga.) News : Winn Sen
ator Sherman was in the South, a
short time ago, he softly cooed: “The
war is over.” In Illinois he loudly
roared: “ The Confederate idea is
still alive, and is about to destroy
our institutions.”
Washington Capital: The John
Sherman boom has evidently received
a terrible set-back from that speech of
his at Springfield, 111. Republicans
who had never talked that way before
are beginning to say they would as
soon nominate Brother Blaine.
St. Louis Post-Dispatch: The at
tempt to elect Hancock in 1880 on the
cry that Tilden was counted out by
fraud in 1876 did win. Mr. Sherman’s
attempt to elect himself on the cry
that Blaine was robbed of the Presi
dency in 1884 is similarly illogical
That tow-line does not reach him.
New York World: The St. Louis
Post Dispatch says: “It is charitable
to suppose that John Sherman is in
sane.” Oh.no. There is great method
in John’s feigned madness. He is
somewhat crazy to he President, but
his mind is in most respects as clear as
a bell. He is simply misguided.
Washington Post: The Jesutitical
John may as well be reminded that
no man can be elected Piesident of
the United States in this era of good
feeling who lends himself to the
mischievous business of stirring up
strife, and who alludes to the Demo
cratic party as “the left wing of the
Confederacy.”
Binghamton (N. Y.) Leader: John
Sherman has quite badly broken up
his presidential boom by such comical
efforts to hit upon the right way to
turn his sails. In the South he was so
glad that a perpetual feeling of unity
existed between the North and South,
and all went for harmony until lie
carried his boom over into Illinois,
when he found his friends there had
determined that the only issue they
could make to warm up the people
would be to unfold the old disunion
flag, so he floated the blood) 7 shirt
with a vengance, and the heelers
cheered to the echo, but he finds the
press of the North as well as the South
criticising his double position, ami de
precating the revival of war issues.
Sherman is therefore sad and his boom
is already withering up. Poor John.
Tuttle and the Soldiers.
Iti 186.‘> the Democrats of lowa nom
nated for Governor against William M.
Stone the same General J. M. Tuttle
who in 1887 denounces Democrats as
“rebels” and sympathizers with re
bellion. The lowa soldiers in the field
were given an opportunity to vote,
and what they thought of the man
who now poses as their especial cham
pion may be inferred from these fig
ures of the returns from several regi
ments:
Sion*. Tuttle.
Fifth Infantry 302 12
Eleventh Infantry 286 il
Twenty-fourth Infantry 271 10
Sixth Infantry 175 0
Ninth Infantry 327 6
Seventh Infautry 207 l
— N. 0. Times Democrat.
The nomination of Mr. Chandler
by the Republicans of the New Hamp
shire Legislature is another concession
to the baser elements, and in line with
the latter tendency of the party, Bus
'.on Herald,