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thus had ample time for demonstra
tion. The increase of passengers has
been tremendous —during the first
year this tariff was in operation mere
than forty per cent —and while, of
course, the gross income from the
passenger business was not increased
in the same proportion, it must be
noted that it did inciease (3.61 per
cent), while the operation costs re
mained practically the same, no new
trains being put in, the increased
traffic having been taken care of by
filling out the vacant places on the
regular trains.
In Hungary the zone-tariff has been
in force since August, 1889. The av
erage rates are:
First-class—2 cents per mile.
Second-class —1.7 cents per mile.
Third-class —1 cent per mile.
For through express trains these
rates would be:
First-class—2.s cents per mile.
Second-class—2 cents per mile.
Third-class —1.25 cents per mile.
As a result of the zone-tariff the
number of passengers trebled in four
years after its adoption; the length
of the lines increased in that period,
however, eleven per cent. The re
ceipts increased in the same time for
ty per cent. Those who wisn to make
a closer study of the zone-tariff are
referred to the official publication of
the Hungarian railway department,
“Der Zonentarif und dessen Resul
tate,” Budapest, 1892 1893.
ERICK OBERG.
FATHER RYAN AND JAMES IL
RANDALL.
(From the Baltimore Sunday Sun.)
A fund is being raised in Alabama
for a monument to Rev. A. J. Ryan.
The Mobile Register states that a
not inconsiderable sum has been sub
scribed already, although the plan for
a memorial of this singularly gifted
poet is yet in its infancy. Father
Ryan, as he was known best to
Southern people and the literary
world, had unusual qualities as a
poet. Many of his verses breathe
the purest spirituality, while some
of his war poems stir the heart of the
reader, as deeply now as in the old
days, when they voiced a living sen
timent. Scarcely a generation ago
Father Ryan's name was a house
hold word in the South. It was not
strange, therefore, that in Mobile,
where years of his life were spent in
religious work, there should be a
movement to erect a monument to
him. He was one of the poets whe
put the sentiment of the South of
his day into verses that ought to live
forever.
Another Southern poet, whose thril
ling lines—“ Maryland, My Mary
land”—wedded to music worthy of
such a theme, make one of the most
striking of American war songs, ii
Mr. James R. Randall, now living in
New Orleans. “Dixie” has a bright,
“catchy” air, which rings with the
spirit of jollity and optimism. But
in no respect is it comparable to Mr.
Randall's fine poem and the admira
ble German air to which the verses
were set. The interests of the South
ern man or woman in “Dixie” is
largely sentimental and is based upon
association chiefly. It is reeognised,
of course, that “Dixie” has a cer
tain ring in it which sets one’s feet
to marking time and tempts him to
take part in the chorus. But “Dix-
ie” would scarcely have had more
than the fleeting popularity of a ne
gro minstrel song if it had not been
adopted as a sort of war hymn and
set to an inspiring tune. Despite its
comic quality and the seeming in
congruity of its use as a battle hymn,
it has lived nearly half a century.
He would be a bold prophet who
would venture to prophecy the time
when “Dixie” will be no more heard
in the land. But speaking with re
spect to the relative merits of ‘ ‘ Mary
land, My Maryland,” and “Dixie,”
it does seem that the former is enti
tled to live as long as men’s hearts
respond to stirring appeals to patriot"
ism, to pride and to valor. Mr. Ran
dall’s poem has intrinsic merits
which entitle it to a place in Ameri
can literature. The music to which
it has been set is vastly superior to
that of any other of the songs of the
Civil War period. The greatest of
all battle hymns is the “Marseil
laise.” Its music appeals to almost
•very emotion. The air of “Mary
land, My Maryland,” expresses per
fectly the spirit of Mr. Randall’s
fine lines, and the effect in away is
that of an American ‘ 1 Marseillaise. ’ ’
It is eminently proper that Alaba
ma should raise a monument to Fath
er Ryan, whose poems were a valua
ble and permanent addition to South
ern as well as religious literature.
Due recognition should also be award
ed Mr. Randall, whose “Maryland,
My Maryland,” is really the classic
war song of the South. It has car
ried Maryland’s name to the utter
most parts of the world, for wher
ever the songs of battle are remem
bered, “Maryland, My Maryland,”
claims immediate recognition for the
beauty of its words and of its air.
It is in order to suggest that the
South should not wait for the author
of “Maryland, My Maryland” to
express its appreciation of his im
mortal lines. -What could be more ap
propriate than a testimonial to Mr.
Randall, who bar. written other poems
of unusual grace and beauty, and
who is still in literary harness, after
many years of patient and unobtru
sive service? A heartfelt tribute dur
ing life is worth more to the recipient
than all the flowers that can be placed
upon his grave or all the monuments
that can be erected to his memory.
RANDALL, OF “MARYLAND.”
The Bentztown Bard/ in the Balti
more Sun.
“Maryland, My Maryland,” I heard
the bugles play,
And oh, the golden music turned my
heart the golden way;
I saw the old State gleaming in her
beauty as of yore,
Beside her rippling rivers and beside
her dreamy shore;
The sweet old song woke echoes of
her beauty in my breast—
The song of Randall’s “Maryland,”
may the wreath upon hir. rest!
The song of Randall’s “Maryland,”
how it rings upon the air
When from the sweet old valleys of
the dear old State we fare;
Amid the alien cities or on hills and
seas afar,
It wooe the heart’s affection and it
wakes you where you are
To the old home’s tender beauty, and
the spirit breathes a cheer
WATSON’S WEEKLY JEFFERSONIAN.
For the poet in whose music rings the
old home-love so clear!
I hear the bugles play it and I hear
the voices sing
The words of Randall’s “Maryland,’’
and my heart began to ring,
And my soul was filled with longing
for the valleys that I knew,
The tender skies above them, with
their balmy breath of blue;
I heard the rivers calling, saw the
green fields by the shore,
And felt the old emotions that I felt
in days of yore!
0 Randall, God be with you, for we
owe you much who know
The glory of your “Maaryland,” feel
the rapture of its glow;
The world should give you comfort
and the land reward your
worth
With all the goodly blessings of the
golden dream of earth—
For all the world is beauty when
the bugles and the band
Ring out the stately measure of the
song you gave the land!
“Maryland, My Maryland,” I heard
the echoes ring,
I saw the little hills of home grow
green with breath of spring,
I saw the orchards ripen in Octo
ber’s golden sun,
I saw the shorees of Edenland unto
the blue bay run;
My heart re-echoed “Maryland,”
and my soul responded, too,
0 Randall, of the golden song, God’s
grace be unto you!
HtARST AS A CONSERVATIVE.
William R. Hearst, the man, per
haps, who has done more than any
other American to array the masses
against the classes, in his Labor Day
speech at the Jamestown Exposition
recently posed as an exponent of
harmony between organizations of la
bor and capital.
He declared that the country had
become great by the honest labor of
its citizens; that every one here
works —the mechanic, clerk, profes
sional man, and even the millionaire,
and that the proudest title of the
most successful millionaire was “Cap
tain of Industry.” He said that he
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JmACSBY, SHtF p A Dept F/llOorsyth st, Atlanta. Garl
had no patience with the prejudice
that exists between alleged classes;
that capital was only the joint accu
mulation of employer and employe,
and that each should treat the other
with consideration and tolerance.
“The workingman,” said he, “is
worthy of his hire, the business man
of his profit. The man who digs the
precious metal from the earth is
worth his wages. The great financial
promoters, organizers, executives <
America, are worthy of recognition
and reward. They work as hard as
any of us, and their work is abso
lutely necessary to the full produc
tion of the riches out of which are
paid here in America the highest
wages in the world. Through many
an anxious day and many a wakeful
night these men have planned and
prosecuted the great enterprises
which have developed the wealth of
the nation and have given employ
ment to millions of men. The riches
they amass and call their own are
seldom spent in extravagance and
luxury upon themselves, but are put
back into new industries to produce
more wealth and give employment to
more men.”
From one extreme Hearst has
switched to the other.
Whlich, by the way, recalls the
rumor of a Hearst-Harriman-Odell al
liance to make the yellow journal
editor the next democratic presiden
tial candidate. —Long Branch Record.
A scientist tells us there are very
intelligent people on Mars. If that
be true, they probably are not wor
rying themselves about the doings of
other people on planets millions of
miles away.
It isn’t always policy to believe the
man who tells you what he would do
if he were in your place.
South Georgia Farms and
Decatur County Tobacco
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Hicks, Real Estate, Bain
bridge Ga.
PAGE FIFTEEN