The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1883-10-16
Selfrf Story.
A DAUNTLESS MAN.

A DAUNTLESS MAN. !
Away up among the Blue Mountains
OF Western Arkansas is neighborhood
which was once noted for the peculiarity
of it's people. The community, you
mi ght say II iss or rather was. almost
self-sustaining for 1t received but little
benefit from the world. Coffee was un-
known there until it was introduced by
some doctor who went there to practice
medicine. The concoction was prompts
ly examined by old man Gressom, who
pronounced it worthless and calculated
Ito iniure the community. There was no
appeal from he decision, and the doctor
was informed that unless he discarded
the use Of the stuff be would be driven
from the nelgborhood. He would not
agree to give up the use Of his only stim.
alant, and one morning, shortly after the
PRONUNCIATION OF the decisive edict, the
doctor might have been seen--in fact he
was seen-carrying pair OF dingy sad
die bags down the mountains.
i This community had no other name
than the "District," and il any one had
attempted to change the appellation he
would no doubt have felt the heavy hand
of revenge. The "Dislrict" people had
no regular religious creed. Every Sun
day they would meet in rude log build.
ing and listen to the illiterate discourse
of John Sunpter, an old fellow who
took upon himself the duty Of instruct
ing the people upon the principles OF re-
i ligious morals.
Once a newspaper man OF discredited
enterprise attempted to publish weekly
journal in the little village known as-the
capital of the District" but before the
first number of the paper came out q
committee headed by old man Gressom
called on the journalist and told him
that they did not want q newspaper.
I'VE did not send for you" the old
man said, "wbich il mighty good evil
dence that We didn't want yod. We
don't want no man comm around pryin'
into our affairs, and IL it's all the same
to you we'd ruther you'd 90 hack where
you come from, or leastwise lea, g the
'Disirict.'
The editor argued that newspaper
would materially assist in the develp-
mept OF the countrv's resources.
We've got oil tbs Developments We
want" said the old man. development
Is what makes folks miserable. We never
90 down from here and try to run the
world, aud we'll be blamed If the world
shall come up here and try to run US.
II you wsnt to come here and iall in
with the rest Of the folks and work fur
q liyin' all right, but no lazy man can
live here"
The editor explained that the publica-
ton of newspaper required the exer-
else of great industry, but the old man
losing patience SAID:
"We've dun give you fatr warnin'.
We have been kind enough to tell you
what's the law. and II you don't profit
by it We can't help it. Now le. US tell
you once for all: II you print sny OF
your papers here we'll ding you often
the top OF the mountain"
The next day hand press might have
been seen, in fact ii was seen going down
the mountain.
In this wav the people OF the "Dis-
trict" lived. Sons grew up. married and
settled near the old homestead, and no
one thought that change would come
John Sumpter, the moral lecturer, had q
beautiful daughter who, despite her
crude surroundings, had to some extent
acquired a knowledge OF books. She
was tall and graceful. She was kind
OF Sheilla among the ruder inhabitants
Of Barbavost. Once, after long per-
suasion, she induced her father to let her
90 down in the world. She would not
remain long. She only wanted to see
what other places looked like. The peo-
Pile of the "District" objected. They
told John Sumpter that nothing but evil
G, uld result from such a wild exploit,
but the girls shrewdness outweighed the
arguments OF the sages and she went
down among the people below. A few
weeks afterward she returned. Every
one noticed that she had changed; her
wonted laugh had died away. and ia the
evening when the sun died, melting be-
hind the rugged peak Of the mountain,
che would sit under the great oak 10
front of her fathers house and muse.
Her father was alarmed. "Lsmnth," be
said to her one evening, 81 want you to
tell me what's the matter with your'
"Nothing." she replied witho ut remo-
wing her gaze from the deep blue space
where distance seemed to level itself out
into crest turquoise plain.
"Nuthin'," repeated the old man. "It
there ain't nuthin' the matter what makes
you mopep Why don't you 60 with me
to feed the sheep and sing like you
uster?"
81 didn't know was moplng. don't
go with you to feed the sheep. because /
don't think can be Of any use to you,
and don't sing because don't want to
bear my own voice."
"Come now, gal, that's all foolishness
I'm a!eard that trip away from home
didn't do you no good. Let's &C into
the house; JEFF Magle's there awalsin'
fur you."
81 don't want to see him." she said
still gazing into the blue beyond.
"Whatr the old man exclaimed.
Don't wanter see JEFF when you kRo "
he's nigh dead arter your"
.'Lst him die, then!"
"Come and quit yer foolishness," and
without consulting her willingness to &C.
company bin he led her into the house.
She treated the young man with cool
dignity; he was astonished. He asked
her to sing; she refused and he vas
amazed When he went away, which he
did very soon, the girls father scolded
her.
JEFF told several of the neighbor's OF
the girls strange notions and before bed