The new North-west. [volume] (Deer Lodge, Mont.) 1869-1897, 1876-06-16
! 8 z 8
An Address 10 tie Boys, Patriots, and Seq.
ing Machine Agents Of My Natire Land.
BY 4POIH E. CARY.


BY 4POTH e. C1RY.
| Breathes there Yank so mean, so small,
Who never says ''Waal, meow, by gaul,
| reckon, since old Adams fall
| There's never growed on this ere ball
nation so ALFRED tall
As we Centennial Yankees %
| FeEloao Citisens 1t is with concentrated
feelings of national pride as Americans that
we stand here to-day, upon our own feet,
watching the car of American Progress as
it goes rafting around the three hundred
and sixty-fve mile track for the hundredth
time. 1t is the same old car whose wheels
were fabricated a century ago with the
| blood Of our patriot primogenitors but
which are CREASED in these latter days with
lubricator made from the odoriferous
skunks' oil furnished us by political pole
cats. This is owing to a scarcity of patri-
OTIS, primogenitors, and blood.
Looking at the upturned faces of my in
telligent audience | see, branded as it were
upon the burglar-proof cheeks of this over
done assemblage, these two Inscriptions
love of country and love of money. And,if
L dig deep down into the Summer-fallowed
soil of your agricultural hearts, shall find
these two loves so firmly rooted that moth
ing but death can ever deracinate them.
From the first root, love of country, has
sprung our republican form of self govern
ment, growing up into q shapely tree, upon
each limb of which an office-holder sits
perched, gorging himself with golden fruit
and shaking down leaves to his constitu-
ents. The outrageous foliage of this
thrifty tree makes it a favorite hiding place
for unclean birds of prey, and all manner
of filthy fowls that come squawking from
the political barnyards of our fruetifying
land.
From the other root, love of money, there
springs tree whose fruit is balm in Gil
cad to the laeerated credit-a fruit that
brings mirth, jewelry, concert tickets, bliss,
silk dresses, and plenty of poor relations.
A man with pocket full of this fruit can
say with the poet. Or without the poet for
that matter
To owe is human,
To pay up divine
The wonderful growth of this glorious
country, to which we Americans sometimes
allnde, is patent to every single son, every
married daughter as well as to every pair
of twins within sound of my baritone voice.
| say it is patent, for history records the
taking out of letters patent in 1776. An
event which is POLITICALLY expressed, or rath-
er, POLITICALLY embalmed, and all ready to be
expressed, G. O. D., to the Centennial, in
the following chased lines
hundred years ago, you know,
Our country's glorious sire
AS Liberty's Knight went ont to fight
Great Britains big Collar.
1t would be well, or at least GONZALES
cent, for each of us to pause here on the
portico of our Centennial structure, wipe
our feet on the door.mat of Time, and ask
our neighbor, OF if he is away from home,
ask his wife, three important questions
From whence, as q nation did we come? (?
Whittier. as people have we wandered
Where in thunder are we going?
Get up, fellow-citizens, and go back to
the dawn of our country's history; back as
early as four o'clock in the morning, and,
while the first auroral glnts of the sunlight
of civilization are streaking across the
Eastern horizon, behold the intrepid Co.
lumbus discovering this continent in three
vessels; some say in 1892, but gentlemen,
Columbus did it in three vessels. And, as
Christopher stands there with his hand on
the front door of our Western hemisphere,
take peep inside, at the country, which,
for untold ages, has been revolving around
ON its own axis independent of the white
man. You see before you a bowling will
derness, bowling to shake hands with civil
ization. You see bounding bisons, bound
ing over the boundless prairies. You see
race of untutored Los building camp fires
all over Martha's Vineyard. You see a
goodly portion Of the earths surface in the
possession of a people living without the
simplest comforts of civilization Not a
penitentiary. not bond and mortgage, not
a barrel of whiskey, not an assessor, not
politician from the suburbs of San Fran
cisco to the hub-bubs of Boston. A simple
people, worshiping the Great Spirit,
scalping one another, and living on game.
By game, I don't mean seven-up or draw
poker.
Contrast this picture Of the past with
photograph of the present. To-day our
country, instead of an unbroken forest, is
made up of land, water and taxes. Most
Of the land is mortgaged, most Of the water
is wet, and most of the taxes are excelsior.
Underneath this heavily mortgaged land is
stored our treasures of gold, silver, calomel,
epson salts, and worms for fishing. The
surface is monopolized by grumbling old
Grangers, who raise grain. This grain is
illicitly distilled into whiskey, and the
whiskey is mixed with water and used for |
camfire and rheumatism. Thus you see
how beautifully the land and water wash
each others hands. Show me another !
country on this green earth where exists |
AAOAC pCl1CCD oy otCAA VI NOAAC0blC GCOl1Oulys
Oh, my countrymen! Oh, my fellow
sisters! I tell you with candor in my
words, with sincerity in my head, and with |
the seidleitz powders of emotion efferves-
cling all over my homeopathic heart, tell
you that, as a nation, as people, as a
country, we are perfectly overwhelming in |
our preponderous immensity. And now,
despite our many legislative drawbacks,
despite our political simoems which seem
to be sweeping every honest man from off |
the face of onr American earth, despite, |
just now, the scarcity of Presidential aspi-
rants, waiting to quench their thirst with
the crooked whiskey which is drank from
the golden vessels Belshazzared in the tenn
pie at Washington, despite all this, let us
American citizens take the sword Of Bum