St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1886-02-20

speaking, DlC StOppeu HlM anu Helti
out my hand.
How do you do l said; sand how
is Jennie and the babies:'''
''Thev are well, or as well as could
be expected under the circumstances,
was the reply.
feared that all was not exactly
right with them, but could not we'll ap-
pear to be in1uisitiye. have q high
respect for Ensig n and his wife, and had
no intention of permitting them to drop
from NV list of friends, and said:
Il am coming out to spend an even.
ing with you before long if you will al"
low me- | suppose you are still living
in the same cottage on c. street?'
No." he replied, ''they foreclosed
and took that from us more than a year
ago; after we had more than ha.t paid
for it, too. You see, was thrown out
of my place by the failure of the com
pany I was at work for, and could not
keep up the payments on the house and
lot, and SO lost all we had saved since
coming here. together with what little
we had when we came
"And where are you living now?'
asked.
He hesitatcd little and then said:
after we lost our place | got another
Job at one of the mills, but was sick
with the fever for time, and when |
got up again could get no steady en-
ploymeni, AID we were forced to rent
some rather poor rooms on - street,
fronting on the railroad track. Well,
the railroad company claimed the
ground that this building and others
stood on and wanted possession. so tEey
ordered us put out without ceremony.
I came home from a long tramp after
work one day and found Jennie and the
children on the sidewalk with what few
household goods we had lett, crying
their eyes out with fear and anxiety
'And then what9' I asked, seeing
that he hesitated again.
"Well, | was out of money, and rent
had to be paid in advance, and as we
had nothing to pay with, and could not
borrow, we moved into an old building
with another family down by the river,
until | can find work and rent better
place. We don't call it living; it isn't
living; its only Just Il camping; but what
can a fellow do? assure you there are
hundreds of other families in the city
who are equally bad Off. -
The story ''Driven from Sea to Sea-
is tinshed-no, not finished. John
Parsons and Erastus Hemingway are
dead. One sleeps with his crippled
child upon the mountain side; one lies
buried in the valley, side by side with
his neighbors, who fell like him. the
victims of the rapacious greed of cor
porate conspirators on that fatal morn
ing of May, 1880; but Martha Parsons
and Lucy Hemingway still live, and
living still contend with corporation
for the shelter above their heads and
the heads of orphaned children. With
them battle others whose homes and
farms are in jeopardy from the same
source.
| Occasionally some settler, driven
from his home, made desperate by
long-continued suffering. by wrongs oft
repeated, takes vengeance upon the
Immediate author of his woes; and
some man, some tool of the corpora
ton sent to hold possession of the land
| from which the settler has been eyicted,
is found dead upon the spot where the
wrong was done. Even as you read
these lines and wonder if such tn ngs
are possible, honest settlers, not alone
| in California, but in any Of a dozen diff
ferent States, it may be, are being driven
from their homes, their affairs over
| thrown, their household gods destroyed,
their lives sacrificed, their wives widowed
and their children made orphans.
| No, the story is not yet finished; but
so far as told it is a true story. All of
the main incidents have taken place
substantially as related. They are part
of the history of our country; have oc-
Cured to our own citizens, beneath the
shadow of our own flag.
| Had it been other than a true story
it might have ended with q brighter
picture; with the brightest and best of
all pictures picture of loving and
honored old couple enjoying the last
years of their well-spent lives amidst
scenes of plenty and beauty, the work
of nature and their own hands; with
loving children and laughing babies,
the children of their children about
them.
AS it is true story it could not be
told otherwise than as it has been, and
if the pictures presented have been sor-
rowfu1 instead of pleasant ones, and if
the reader has been forced TO weep,
when, like the writer, he would prefet
laughter to tears, it is not the writer 8
| fault.
If sometime the people shall make it
possible to write a story in which,
without being untrue to life as the great
mass of the people live it, the pleasant
pictures shall crowd out and force us
and them to forget the sorrowful ones,
then will the writer of this be only too