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who had met them with such daring
on so many contested fields.
‘‘ln the meantime another brigade
of the division moved to the support
of the little brigade, when it was
made known for the first time along
the line that General Stuart had been
shot and was perhaps dead in the
hands of the enemy. The effect of
these tidings upon a body of men al
ready overpowered by continuous
hard fighting can hardly be imagined.
Deep grief, despair was pictured upon
the face of every living man. The
command was rallied and formed to
make a final charge for the recovery
of General Stuart’s body, alive Vr
dead. Captain Dorsey, commanding
a company of 1 Maryland cavalry, re
quested that he might have the honor
of leading the charge. This was
granted. The charge was made
amidst a fierce storm of bullets.
“General Stuart was found lying
by the side of the iron gray pros
trate, rational, but completely dis
abled by a gunshot wound through
the center of his body. Every eye
moistened as it fell upon the grace
ful form outstretched, the golden hair
blood-stained, the long plume, which
had never been lowered by danger or
despair, trailing beside him. All en
treaties to induce him to leave the
field were useless. He begged to be
allowed to die where he had fallen
within of the guns. He was
first in the hearts of his followers.
They would not leave him. His men
lifted him gently, laid him across the
saddle, and bore him
away from the scene of terrible con
flict.”—Confederate Veteran.
FRANK STROUD ON WILLIAM
J. B.
William Jinglings Bryan, who will
be remembered as running for presi
dent a few times some years age.
and who, once upon a time, husthd
off his chair in Chicago, and electri
fied the world by shouting, “Yon shall
not press this crown of thorns up;»n
the brow of labor; you shall not cru
cify mankind upon a cross of gold,”
has made another great discovery.
He says President Roosevelt, in his
speech at Provincetown, Mass., has at
last disclosed his scheme for central
isation, and goes on to explain the
great secret, saying that Teddy was
an easy victim, and that if it was the
public he sought to protect he would
recommend Federal remedies, which
would not interfere with State reme
dies, and that it is the railroads, not
the public .that demand the remov
al of authority to Washington. Bry
an goes on to say that the demo
crats can be depended upon to op
pose with all their might this move
ment toward centralization. Smart
little Billie. Give him a watermelon,
Teddy.—The Davie Record.
PARAGRAPHS FROM OKLAHOMA
Secretary Taft, in his speech at
Oklahoma City last Saturday night,
made an exhaustive review of the
proposed constitution and in conclu
sion said: 4 ‘lf I were a citizen of
Oklahoma I would vote against the
constitution,” As Secretary Taft is
likely to be the next Republican can
didate for the Presidency and per
haps stands closer to President
Roosevelt than any ofher man in. the
United States, what he said concern
ing the constitution is fraught with
much significance and the people will
pay more attention to what Taft said
than to all that the politicians in
Oklahoma can write or say between
now and September 17th. Few of the
voters will make up their mind as
to how to vote on constitution from
reading it. The great number will
be influenced by what men, in whom
they have confidence, say about con
stitution.
Quite natural for Democratic lead
ers in this country to say, “ Leaders
of the Independence League move
ment are attempting to humbug the
people.” It is necessary for them to
say something smart in view of the
fact that Democratic leaders in this
country have raised the tax levy from
15 mills to 21 mills, for county pur
poses. The populists in two years
reduced the tax levy to 15 mills and
put county on cash basis. The tax
levy for this year is 21 mills. In
other words it costs tax payers $1.50
on SIOO valuation to defray expenses
of county government under populist
rule and they pay $2.10 on the SIOO
under Democratic rule.
Chauncey M. Depew, in 1896, said
“ There are fifty men in New York
City who can close every door of all
our manufactories, lock every switch
on every telegraph line, and shut
down every coal and iron mine in the
United States. They can do this be
cause they control the money which
.this country produces.” And
Chauncey ought to know.—The Peo
ple’s Voice, Norman, Okla.
A FANCY FROM FOND ANELLE.
(From the Youth’s Companion.)
The rose in the garden slipped her
bud,
And she laughed in the pride of her
youthful blood,
As she thought of the Gardener stand
ing by—
“He is old —so old! Ard lie soon will
die!”
The full Rose waxed in the warm
June air,
And she spread, and spread, till her
heart lay bare;
And she laughed once more as she
heard his tread—
“He is older now. He will soon be
dead.”
I
But the breeze of morning blew and
found
That the leaves of the blown Rcse
strewed the ground;
And he came at noon, that Gaidener
old,
And he raked them swiftly under the
mould.
And I wove the thing to random
rhyme,
For the Rose is beauty, the Gar
dener Time.
MOB OHASES TWO THOUSAND
CHINESE FROM HOMES.
Vancouver, B. C., Sept. B.—A riot
occurred here late tonight, in which
two thousand Chinese wore driven
from their homes and SIOO,OOO worth
of property destroyed. The local
governor of British Columbia was
burned in effigy by ten thousand la
boring men at the close of a parade
and an anti-oriental demonstration.
WATSON’S WEEKLY JEFFERSONIAN.
Pages Prom My Scrap "Book.
LEONA.
By James G. Clark.
(Competent literary critics have
pronounced the following poem unsur
passed by any other production of
its class in our language. It is per
fect in rhyme, beautiful in figure and
expression):
V
Leona, the hour draws nigh,
The hour we’ve waited so long,
For the angel to open the door through
the sky,
That my spirit may break from its
prison and try
Its voice in an infinite song.
Just now, as the slumbers of night
Came o ’er me with peace-giving
breath,
The curtain, half lifted, revealed to
my sight
Those windows which look on the
kingdom of light
That borders the river of death.
A vision fell solemn and sweet,
Bringing gleams of a morning-lit
land;
I saw the white shore which the pale
waters beat,
And I heard the low lull as they broke
at their feet
Who walked on the beautiful
strand.
And I wondered why the spirits could
cling
To their clay with a struggle and
sigh,
When life’s purple autumn is better
than spring,
And the soul flies away, like a spar
row, to sing
In a climate where leaves never die.
Leona, come close to my bed,
And lay your dear hand on my
brow;
The same touch that thrilled me in
days that are fled,
And raised the lost roses of youth
from the dead,
Can brighten the brief moments
now.
We have lived from the cold world
apart,
And your trust was too generous
and true
For their hate to o’erthrow; when
the slanderer’s dart
Was rankling deep in my desolate
heart,
I was dearer than ever to you.
I thank the Great Father for this,
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That our love is not lavished in
vain;
Each germ in the future will blossom
to bliss,
And the forms that we love, and the
lips that we kiss
Never shrink at the shadow of pain.
By the light of this faith am I taught
That my labor is only begun;
In the strength of this hope have I
struggled and fought
With the legions of wrong, till my
armor has caught
The gleam of Eternity’s sun.
Leona, look forth and behold
From headland, from hillside and
deep,
The day king surrenders his banners
of gold,
The twilight advances through wood
land and wold,
And the dews are beginning to
weep.
The moon’s silver hair lies uncurled
Down the broad-breasted mountains
away;
The sunset’s red glory again shall be
furled
On the walls of the West, o’er the
plains of the world;
And shall rise in a limitless way.
Oh! come not in tears to my tomb,
Nor plant with frail flowers the
sod;
There is rest among roses too sweet
for its gloom,
And life where the lilies eternally
bloom,
In the balm-breathing gardens of
God.
Y r et deeply those memories burn
Which bind me to you and to earth,
And I sometimes have thought that
my being would yearn
In the bowers of the beautiful home,
to return *.
And visit the home of its birth.
’Twould even be pleasant to stay
And walk by your side to the last;
But the land breeze of Heaven is be
ginning to play—
Life-shadows are meeting Eternity’s
day,
And its tumult is hushed in the
past.
Leona, good-bye; should the grief
That is gathering now, ever be
Too dark for your faith, you will
long for relief,
And remember, the journey, though
lonesome, is brief,
O’er lowland and river to me.
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