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THE t INCOLNTON NEWS
J- D. COLLEY & CO.,
VOL. I.
MACHINERY DEPOT.
W. J. POLLARD,
luvicmn at iuvAcms' urn.
MANDFACTUBEK. of
f
W. J. Pollard's Champion Cotton Gin
Feeders & Condensers^ Sill’s Mi Power Cotton &!Hay Press.
General agent for Grain Threshers and Separators and Agricultural Imple¬
ments, Fairbanks & Co.’s Standard Scales, etc. Talt»ot A Sons’ Agricultural,
Portable and Stationary and Steam Engines anti Boilers, Saw Mills, Grist
Mills, etc. C. & G. Cooper & Co.’s Traction Engines, Portable and Agricul¬
tural Engines, Watertown Aaiicultartvl, Waters’ Portable and Stationary Steam___ En
gines, Saw Mills, etc. Goodall & Wood W-oz-king Machinery. W. I,.
Bradley’s Standard Fertilizers. The Dean Steam J?ump. Kreible's Vibrating
Cylinder Clod Steam Crusher Engines. and Leveler. Otto’s Silent (las Engines- Acme Pulverizing Har¬
row,
MACHINERY OF ALL KINDS.
Belting, everything Packing, Brass Fittings, Iron Fittings, Iron I>i pe , Rubber Hose and
that can be used on or about machinery. Cotton Mill Supplies a
specialty. make the machine Tools of business all kinds, complete Hancock Inspirators, etc. Finally, I desire to
a success, and. vs-ill guarantee to furnish
- everything wanted in that line on as reasonable terms and at as short notice
as any.house in tike country. My stock is the largest and most varied of any
house South. My connection with some of the largest manufactories in the
' United States gives me superior advantages for furnishing the best and most
reliable work found anywhere. Be certain to call on
•W. 0*. FQ LT . A T P.HPl y
731, 734 & 736 Reynolds Street.,
AUGUSTA, GEORGIA
wiraira imiffi
IN
FURNITURE.
If we don’t Beat New York Prices we will
Give You a NICE SET.
i The Largest and Finest Stock ever offered
in Augusta. Five carloads just received.
All the Latest Styles and Prices Cheaper
than Ever. WE DEFY COMPETITION'
Our New Catalogue will be Ready in T»i
Days. Write for one.
J. L. BOWLES & CO.,
117 AND 839 BROAD STREET,
AUCUSTA, CA.
JAMES HINES,
SUCCESSOR TO
P. H. NOROTN,
Washington - - Gra.,
—DEALB.f IN—
Groceries^ and Plantation Saplies,
Bagging and Ties, Meat and
Lard, Flour of the Best Grade,
ron, Plows, &c., Salt, Leather,
&e„ Provisions of all Sorts.
The Reputation of the House shall be
Maintained. “ The Best Goods at the Lowest
Living RateB.”
At Mrs. N. Brum Clark’s
Ladies will find New and Stylish Nkok
WJ5AB. Look at the Febne Laces. They
must be seqn to be appreciated.
The Latest Styles in Hals and Bonnels re¬
ceived weekly during the season.
Our Mourning Bonnets and Crepe Yeils
are keep unsurpassed best in quality aud price. We
New Ribbons—every English Crepes, new Lisse Ruching,
ity. width, color and qual
Black Silk Gloves, Mourning wear; Chil¬
dren’s Hosiery in excellent quality—some
New Styles; Corsets, Hoop Skirts. Toiir
milres. Bridal Veiling and Gloves; all kinds
of klndB. Veiling, Brussel’s Nets; Note of all
Great variety of Laces— Black, White and
Cream. Embroidery Silk, best Knitting
Silk, Sewing Silk, Buttons in latest styles,
IN rings, 0 W Jewelry, ijusterless Jet Bracelets, Eor
Pins, <kc., Coin Silver Jewelry and
other styles entirely new; Material for Fancy
Work, Lace Pillow Shams, Splashers, Ac.
New Hair Goods—pretty and becoming
feisasas* Hand-Knitted Goods Infants,
for Infants’
Caps in Lace, Velvet and Satin. Our Stock
of Sanoy Goods is too varied to itemize.
We are prepared to furnish anything in
the Milukerv Lise, and to fill orders
promptly.- tended to as-soon Orders from received. the country We at¬
as never
Disappoint. Our friends in adjacent coun¬
ties will find it to their interest to send tons.
We will make any purchases for them in
eity free of commission.
Wa Bboao guarantee Prices and Quality.
09 SmMrr is the place to obtain
BtjrMsh Give ns Articles call. for a Lady’s Toilet.
a
THE AUGUSTA, ELBEBTON AND C HIC4GO RAILROAD.
s# * u EL H " VERS ’
SUCCESSOR T
MYERS & MARCUS,
838 & 840 Broad Street,
AUGUSTA, GA.
WHOLESALE JOBBER OF DRY!GOODS, NO.
TIONS, SHOES, HATS AND CLOTHING.
J, M. ANDERSON,
COTTON FACTOR
—AND
Commission Merchant,
-AT THE—
O'.fl Stand of H A. Fleming,
983 Reynolds Street, Augusta, 6a'
Feisonal attention veil given known to all in business- Lincoln
I. Love Fuller, so
and who for many years lias boon with
Young* Hack, is in charge, and will bo glad
to fee his many friemls. ,_
__
Murphey, Harmon,& Co ■I
NCOLOTOBf, GA.,
TOMBSTONES, MONUMENTS
PUT TO TO LAST.
Work Guaranteed,
Refer to their work throughout Lincoln
county.
Prices "Very Low.
P. HANSBERGER,
—MANUFACTURE!! OF—
CIGARS _
-AND DEALER IN
Tobacco, Pipes and
Smokers’ Articles.
Cigarettes to the trade Fireworks a specialty. Manu.
factory on Ellis street. by whole.
sale.
TO Broad street, AUGUSTA, GA.
Mf ”■ |U BUI Iwl ETDf*l tala I ETD Ed Iw
■ _
COTTON" FACTOR AND
tatral Commissi MercM,
No. 3 W arren Block,
Aug-usta, Ga.
Will give personal and undivided atten¬
tion to the WeijfHixig and Selling of Cotton
Liberal Cash Advances made on Consign
meats,
LINCOLNTON, GA., FRIDAY, JULY 13, 1883.
TTa» It Chance P
He wind swept over a silver string;
The cord responded, bat why did it sing
Was it chance t
The golden snn, rising, illumined the sky
The lotos awakened, but why did it sigh ?
Was it chance T
The nightingale hovered all night o’er the rose;
Why blossomed the rosebud at dawn? Who
knows?
Was it chance ?
The moon flew away with the dark gazelle;
Which conned the other ? Who can tell ?
Was it chance?
The lover found many strange ways to his fair,
But, arrived at the spot, she was ever there.
Was it chance?
—From the Persian.
CHARMING BETTIE.
“It was all very long ago,” the old
maid said. “Can you believe I ever
was pretty?”
Priscilla opened her mouth to speak;
but Miss Bettie did not wait to hear
her.
“Yes, I was pretty oDce, and I was
called ‘Charming Bettie.’ My hair
was always curly, and my eyes used to
be very bright. My cheeks were red —
so red, they accused me of painting
many a time, and my teeth white and
even, and my figure round and trim.”
She had her snug, brown house,with
its pretty, old-fashioned garden, her
birds and her flowers, and her white
kitten; but she must at times, Priscilla
fancied, be very lonely, in spite of it all.
Priscilla could picture her in the
long winter evenings, sitting in the
little, dim, lamp-lighted parlor, knitting
—knitting.
“Miss Bettie,” she said, gently, after
a little, “who called you that—‘Charm¬
ing Bettie?”
“Who ?” Oh, a good many. He
called me so first, and then they all got
to calling me that. I have never told
any one yet. But sometimes I think
it would do me good to speak about it.
I get tired of only thinking—I think so
much,” with a little sigh, and the
knitting lying idle now in her lap.
“His name was David Allyn,” Miss
Bettie said, rather tremulously.
“David Allyn—Lawyer Allyn!” Pris¬
cilla cried, her dark eyes large with in¬
tense
The spinster nodded.
“I have a picture of him, taken when
he was young,” she said, and she got
up and went to a little shelf and took
it down. “He was a handsome boy,”
she went on, handing the faded daguer¬
reotype to the girl, “and he was as good
as he was handsome.”
The beardless, boyish face, with its
,
irregular, unformed features, and
rather sunken black eyes, did not
strike Priscilla as being at all hand¬
some.
“Did you meet him here in R-?”
she asked.
“Yes, at a dance at one of the neigh¬
bors’. He was a young lawyer, had
just graduated, and hadn’t hung out
his shingle. But he was uncommonly
smart, even then. He is our leading
lawyer now, you know,” the spinster
added, with no little pride.
“It seems so strange to think he was
your lover,” Priscilla exclaimed.
“Yes, it does seem strange now, after
all these years,” Miss Bettie said, with
another little sigh; “but it seemed
very natural then. We met very often
after the night of the dance, and we
grew to know these country roads near
here by heart, for many were the long
walks we took together. There is one
road—that one that leads by the Hill¬
man cottage—I never care to go now.
It was there, on that road, just about
dark one October evening that he told
me he loved me. There had been a
tine sunset, and the sky had been a
bright flame-color. As the glow faded
and the meadows grew dark, and a
little mist began to shut out the liills
we turned to go home. ‘Lean on my
.arm, dear,’ he said, and when I did so,
trembling a little, he said: ‘How
would you like a young fellow’s strong
arm to lean on always?’ I didn’t say
anything right then, he took me so by
surprise; and presently he went and
told me how pretty he thought I was,
and he said, with a laugh, and giving
my arm a little pinch: “I am going to
name you ‘Charming Bettie.’ So after
that, he always called me that, and soon
nearly every one in R began call
ing me it, too. We were never engag¬
ed to each other, although I wear a
little ring he gave me, in remembrance
of our love, yet,” Miss Bettie said, and
held out one thin hand, on which shone,
in the firelight, a worn band of gold,
“There was just this understanding
between us; some day when he had
got a nice start in the law and had a
little home of his own to take me to,
then I was to be his wife. AVe were
young and we were content to wait;
and one day he went away to the city
to go into partnership with and old es¬
tablished lawyer, a friend of his
father’s. It was a grand chance, a
line opening for him, and we both knew
it, and rejoiced over it like children, al-
though we dreaded the separation.
‘Never mind, Charming Bettie,’ he said,
when he came to kiss me good by
‘In a few years I will be nicely fixed;
perhaps rich, who knows? Anyway.
I’ll have a good start, and I will come
back and carry you away.’ And then
he was gone, and that was the end, for
when David Allyn came home at the
end of two years he did not come alone;
he brought his wife with him.
“They staid here a little while, and
then went back to the city. I met her,
once, in Aurch and I overheard her
ask David ‘who that ugly little thing
with the red face was he was staring
at so hard?” If that was ‘Charming
Bettie?* That day I walked for the
first time after David’s marriage up
the Hillman cottage road, and, although
I shed many bitter tears, I resolved not
to let what had happened spoil my life
for me; but somehow it has—,” the
spinster ended sadly, and she stared at
the fire with dim eyes.
“Miss Bettie, she is dead now,” the
girl said softly, after a little pause,
“and he is a widower.”
Priscilla had been staring at the fire
also, and weaving a little romance of
her own.
“Hush, child!” Miss Sligo cried,
“How can you ? She has not been in
her grave a year yet, and David Allyn
will never marry again, anyway. His
romance, like mine, is ended.”
Miss Priscilla kissed the maiden lady’s
faded cheek, and flung her young arms
affectionately around her.
“I shall love you better than ever,
now,” she said, tenderly, “and I hope
some day things will yet come right.”
Then she went away, and Miss
Bettie stood in her open window for
some time after, looking at the sunset.
Lawyer Allyn saw her as he came
up the street from his office. He had
moved to K- from the city, and
walked more slowly as he came to the
little brown house among the trees.
They always spoke to one other; it
always seemed foolish not to speak. So
when he got by the window he said:
“Your flowers are looking very fresh
and nice, Miss Bettie.”
The spinster gave one of her little
nervous starts. She had not seen him
coming. Her hand struck against one
of the flower-pots and knocked it over.
It rolled off the narrow sill, and lay at
David Allyn’s feet.
“It is broken to pieces,” he said,
picking it up, with a little smile on hi
thin, sallow face, “but I am going to
keep it—may I not?”
“Yes—if you w r ant to,” she made
answer, a little breathlessly.
He took the plant—a pale-pink ger¬
anium—out of the earthern pot, and
shook a little of the dirt off the roots.
“This shall bloom in my window,” he
said,” and I am going to name it
‘Charming Bettie,’ in memory of other
days.”
Miss Sligo’s face flushed a deep red.
“Good-night,” she said, abruptly, and
was about shutting the window. She
felt shocked; his wife had not been
dead a year.
“No, don’t go yet,” David Allyn
said, his hand on the fence railing.
Then he seemed to remember himself
“Very well, good-night,” he added
and walked slowly away, the little
pink geranium in his hand.
A few days later, another stormy
afternoon, near dusk, Miss Sligo heard
a knock at her front door. There, on
the porch, was Lawyer Allyn.
Miss Bettie smoothed her curls
quickly and hastened to the door. She
led the way to the little parlor.
“Take this chair,” she said, drawing
a large rocker close to the fire.
The lawyer held out his handsto the
blaze.
“You have a snug little home, Miss
Bettie,” he observed. “I suppose you
would never be willing to leave it now.”
“I am attached to the house,” the
spinster said, gravely. “My dear
father and mother both died here, and
it has many associations.”
She was sitting in another rocking
chair near by, and had taken up her
knitting.
David Allyn watched the swift-fly¬
ing needles.
“Don't you ever get lonely?” he ask¬
ed, after a few moment’s silence. “I
do, up in my big house. It is a pretty
place; but it is too big for me.”
Miss Bettie only knitted faster, and
was silent. His coining had disturbed
her greatly. Suddenly, he moved for
Svard, and took her work away.
“1 don’t want you to knit any more
to-night,” he said; “I want you to look
at me.”
“Lawyer Allyn!”
“No, not Lawyer Allyn—David.
Call me that, as you used to.”
Miss Bettie trembled; her cheeks
glowed as in youthful days.
David Allyn took one of the spinster’s
thin hands in his—the one on which
the little worn ring was, it happened.
“Bettie,” he said, gravely, “I have
come to-night to ask your forgiveness
and your love again. I feel I made a
mistake—a great mistake, once in my
life, and I want, if possible, to rectify
it. Don’t tell me it is to late.”
To feel that she was loved again,
after all these lonely years, was too
much for Miss Bettie; she burst into
tears. Her white kitten purred and
rubbed its soft little head against her
dress. The firelight danced on the
wall and made black shadows in the
corners.
In the uncertain light David Allyn
bent and kissed the faded cheek beside
him.
They were speedily married.
American Society.
American society, as now carried
on, is maintained solely for the bene¬
fit of young girls, and is generally lit¬
tle better than a marriage mart. The
parents launch their offspring as well
as possible, and display their wares to
the greatest advantage, but the busi¬
ness of the market is carried on chiefly
by the young girls themselves, instead
of by their mothers, as in England and
Europe. There is no special objection
to this method of transacting the bus¬
iness, but it is preposterous that young
girls and their affairs should over¬
shadow and shut out everything and
everybody else. The result of this ab¬
sorption in one class and one pursuit
is that American society is often in¬
sufferably dull and fiat. It is made
up too exclusively of ignorant girls
and their attendant boys. Half the
education of a cultivated woman is of
course that which is derived from so¬
ciety and from the world; and yet
American society is almost wholly
given up to the business of entertain¬
ing and marrying those who are neces¬
sarily wholly destitute of such an
education. Another effect of the prev¬
alence of social principles of this de¬
scription, is the supremacy of that
most rustic and unattractive of habits,
the pairing system, which converts so¬
ciety into a vast aggregation of tete
a-tetes. This prevails all over the
world to a greater or less extent, but
it should never reign supreme. The
upshot of the whole thing with us is
to drive out of society nearly all mar¬
ried people,—for marriage under such
a system is destructive of social value;
nearly all unmarried women over 25
are thought to have overstayed their
market; and, finally, a considerable
portion of the unmarried men of 30
and upwards. In other words, except
at few large balls and receptions, all
the best and most intelligent part of
society is usually lacking. It has been
pushed aside, and is obliged to find all
its social amusements in small coteries
of its own. This retirement is of
course voluntary, because the pairing
system ruins general society, and
makes it, in fact, impossible in the best
and truest sense. A clever young
Englishman not loug ago expressed his
surprise at the fact that whenever he
asked who a lady of a certain age, as
the French say, might be, he was in¬
variably told, not that she was Mrs.
Blank, but that she was the mother of
Mrs. Blank. The girl, like the boy, is
properly the most insignificant mem¬
ber of society. When a young man
goes forth into the world he starts at
the bottom of the ladder, and works
his way up. The same rule should
apply to young ladies in society. They
have their place, and it is an impor¬
tant one ; but they should not start in
social life at the top, and then slowly
descend. Such a system is against ev¬
ery law of nature or art, with its con¬
comitant of universal tete-a-tetes,
makes really attractive general society
impossible. We place the social pyra¬
mid upon its apex, instead of upon its
base, and then wonder that it is a poor,
tottering and unlovely object.— Atlan¬
tic Monthly.
A Temperate life.
George Bancroft, the historian, is 83
years old, and yet of as clear intellect,
sure memory, unflagging industry,
hungry for new facts historical and sci¬
entific, and fond of society and out¬
door exercise as a man of half his age.
He rides frequently, and sits his horse
with only a student’s stooping of the
shoulders, and his white hair crowns a
face full of animation and lit by quick
and expressive eyes. At his desk at
five or six in the morning, he has all
the freshness of a youthful literateur,
and is devoid of the vanity common to
youth and old age, of petting his own
ideas and style. In revising the early
volumes of his history he strikes out his
theories of twenty years ago as readily
sis his superabundant diction, and re¬
places them with lately discovered'facts
in ethnology and chronology and with
terse and direct language. His intel¬
lectual healthfulness is due probably to
constant and unhurried work, as his
bodily vigor is attributable to regular¬
ity and temperance in eating, drinking
and general living. He is a remarka¬
ble instance, of long-preserved elasticity
of all the faculties.
THB FAMILY DOCTOR.
Dyspepsia. —The late Dr. Leared, in
In his recently published essay on “The
Causes and Treatment of Indigestion,”
lays down as a fundamental principle
that the amount of food which each
man is capable of digesting with ease
always has a limit which bears rela¬
tion to his age, constitutaion, health,
and habits, and that indigestion is a
consequence of exceeding this limit
Different kinds of food are also differ
ently adapted to different constitutions
Dyspepsia may be brought on by eat¬
ing irregularly, by allowing too long
an interval between meals, and by eat¬
ing too often. Frequently the meals
are not gauged as to their relative
amount, or distributed with a due re¬
gard for health. Thus, when we go
out after taking a light breakfast and
keep at our work, with a still lighter
lunch only during the interval, till
evening, we are apt, with the solid
meal which tempts us to indulgence,
to put the stomach to a harder test
than it can bear. “When a light
breakfast is eaten, a solid meal is re¬
quisite in the middle of the day.
When the organs are left too long un¬
employed they secrete an excess of mu¬
cus which greatly interferes with di¬
gestion. One meal has a direct influ¬
ence on the next; and a poor breakfast
leaves the stomach over-active for din
ner. . . . The point to bear in mind
is, that not to eat a sufficiency at one
meal makes you too hungry for the
next; and that, when you are too hun
gry, you are apt to overload the stom¬
ach, and give the gastric juices more
to do than they have the power to per¬
form. Persons who eat one meal too
quickly on another must likewise ex¬
pect the stomach finally to give notice
that it is imposed upon. Other pro¬
vocatives of dyspepsia are imperfected
mastication, smoking and snuff-taking,
which occasions a waste of saliva—
although some people find that smok¬
ing assists digestion, if done in moder¬
ation—sitting in positions that cramp
the stomach, and the pressure that is
Inflicted on the stomach by the tools
of some trades, as of curriers, shoema¬
kers, and weavers. The general symp¬
toms of dyspepsia are well known.
Some that deserve special remark are
fancies that the limbs or hands are dis
torted, mental depression, extreme ner¬
vousness, hypochrondria, and other
fections of the mind. The cure is to be
sought in avoiding the food and habits
by which dyspepsia are promoted, and
and using and practicing those which
are found to agree best with the sys¬
tem of the subject. Regularity in the
hours of meals can not be too strongly
insisted on. “The stomach should not
be disappointed when it expects to be
replenished. If disappointed, even a
diminished amount of food will be ta¬
ken, without appetite, which causes
the secretions to injure the stomach,
or else impairs its muscular action.’'
—Popular Science Monthly.
His Papa's Xante.
There was a bright little boy be
tween 2 and 3 years old picked up as he
was wandering on the street and car
ried to the Four Courts, where he
took a seat on the railing in front of
the Central Station, stuck out his
chubby legs and stared at everyone
who came in without being the
abashed. As is customary in such
cases, an endeavor was made to elicit
information from him that might
lead to his restoration to his distracted
parents. The little fellow appeared
willing to tell all he knew.
“What's your name, young
they asked him.
“Jimmie Rearden,” he lisped
“What's your papa’s name?”
“Papa.”
“But what does your mamma call
him?”
The cherub's face lightened up with
pleasure at being able to furnish the
Jesired information, as he answered:
‘She tells him, you old villain, you.”
The examination was postponed.—
it. Louis Republican.
The Poor and the Farmer.
A box one day made a call upon a
Peasant and bitterly complained of the
custom of shutting poultry up nights
in Fox-proof pens. “It isn’t because I
suffer at all,” added Reynard, “but
think how uncomfortable it must be
for the poor Fowls. It is their condi¬
tion I wish to mitigate.”
The Peasant took the matter under
advisement, and next evening he ne¬
glected to shut up his Fowls. Next
morning he came across the Fox just
as he had finished feasting on a fat
Pullet and cried out: “Ah! this is the
way you take to pity my poor Fowls,
is it?”
“Well, you see,” grinned Reynard,
“1 feel very sorry for the Fowls, but at
the same time cannot afford to miss an
opportunity.” of
Moral: The man with ten acres
land to sell is the chap who first sees
the need of an orphan asylum.— Detroit
Free Press,
PUBLISHERS.
NO. 39.
humorous.
Funny! One of the hottest place*
on this hemisphere is Chili.
Time, with a scythe, is pictured as
bald-headed, so that he cannot be taken
by the forelock.
A Philadelphia restaurant advertises
“everything from a pickled elephant to
a fricasseed dude.”
“I’m always getting things mixed,”
as the man said who had hash set bo
fore him thirteen times a week.
The boy who isn’t strong enough to
chop wood, is strong enough to ham¬
mer a base-ball so far that he can males
a home run
The man who was the coolest per¬
son at the battle of Waterloo has just
died. He hid in the ice-house of ths
chateau during the fight
“Cluck, cluck,” clucked the^anxious
hen, “I’ve lost a chicken.” “Don't
brood over it, mamma,” piped another
youthful member of the family.
The other day a shark off the coast
of Florida, swallowed an eight-day
clock, and he has found out by this
time how it feels to live on “tick.”
A little boy who sat beside a man
who had been eating Limburger cheese,
turned to his mother and exclaimed:
“Mamma, how I wi3b I was deaf and
dumb in my nose!”
How to solve a difficult problem:
First Woman—“But, of course, there
is no way of getting at her age.” Se¬
cond Woman—“Oh, yes, there ia>
Multiply it by two.”
“Yes,” said the schoolboy, “I’m at
the foot o’ my class, and I calculate to
stay there. Then I don’t have to stand
the wear and tear of anxiety for fear
I’ll lose my place.”
A Troy man had his ear ripped off
by a buzz saw. An excited young doc¬
tor, who had been starving for seven
months for his first case, stuck it on
backward; he sewed it fast and it
grew. And now, the man looks like a
crack trotter, waiting to get the word,
and he can hear half way around the
square in both directions.
A Hundred Years Hence.
Some people often wish that they
were dead > and if this involved their
living by and-by instead of
now, how many will wish it, on read¬
ing the prophecy of the Rev. Mr. Fincke f
an English clergyman who travelled
much in America ten years ago. He
now ventures to tell what he thinks is
the future of “Englishry,” by which ha
means the English-speaking peoples on
the globe, a century hence. He ealeu
lates that b Y that time th &e will be
one thousand millions of them living
under the same institutions and cher
ishing the same ideas, social and politi¬
cal, in the United States, Canada, Aus¬
tralia, South Africa, aud Great Britian
The 800,000,000 which he assigns to
the United States will overflow into
Canada, into Mexico, Guatemala,
Colombia, Bolivia and Peru, afterwards
into the valley of the Amazon, and
the whole range of the Andes, into the
islands of the Pacific, across which
they will join hands with their kin
dred in New Zealand and Australia
The English settlements in South
Africa, now essentially American, will
spread over Southern Africa, pushing
the natives to the equator. The Arner
ican farmer is to inrnish the type of
this new society. There will be no
savages or serfs, few drones or men of
all will be able to read and
to write and to use their acquirements
They will have homes of their owm
and property enough of the very best
and most educative kind—that is, in
land—to yield to their intelligent in
dustry sufficient means of support
They will have no social or political
superiors, and will manage their own
affairs. There will be few or none
looking forward to a pauper’s fate.
The lives of the majority will be spent
in the cultivation of their own land on
the same terms which the American
farmer now cultivates his. Morality
will in this society have a tremendous
force, because as there will be only
one morality for all, and not, as now a
separate morality for each class, it will
be supported by the opinion of all 1
Women will play a larger part in the
work of society than they have ever
done. No pursuits will be favored by
endowments or bounties. The com¬
petition between nations will be intel¬
lectual, not military competition.
Oratory, painting, sculpture and arch¬
itecture will grow under it as never
before. Money will be in greater use
and the precious metals have a higher
value than ever. Keligion will have aa
strong a hold as ever on the human
heart. At the head of this might;
community the United States will stand
morally though not politically. The
President of the United States will be
its foremost man, and. “the predomi¬
nant power” will be the press.