The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1889-08-21

IN EGal tiaIsSgu Win Allr pttlcA ko4AA}AA ~
the United States. presents sharp con
trasts.
The broad level stretch ofthe Western
prairie. .in1presses US with a straHge new
ness and age the barn-like two room
structure Of the homesteader seems out Of
place in the center OF huuired-sere corn
field, free from stamps and stones, an ap-
propriate condition Of age; the absence
Of forest trees IL groves or on road sides,
Is unatGral when riding through orchards
and cultivated fields. ItseenIs az though
the world Of our childhood, with
~The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tan-
glesI wildwood,
The bridge andthe rock where the catar-
act fell
surrounded by the horizon Of high forest
crowned hills, had suddenly sunk and
LEFT as floating on boundless ocean Of
broad undulating ridges Of green verdure.
The transparent atmosphere shortens dis
tance and magnifes objects, and what
appears TO expectant tEaFele-sa commodi-
Gus hotel, dwindles at the approach into
the unpretending cabin of the s9uatter ;
large forest trees, making the line Of a
prairie stream, when reached after weary
miles Of travel, changes mysteriously into
Insignificant shrubbery.
But how different are our emotions
when ve go South. South into the land
Of battIeiields, over which have surged
armies in the agoniziug death struggle (;
and We look out with keenest interest at
the mention Of Alexaadris, Manassas.
Bull Run, Warrenton, Culgepper, Rapi-
dan and Gordonsville, as though we ex-
pected still to see the long, cleaning bat
tie line and hear the roll Of drums, and
the boom Of cannon, and the crash of
cavalry charge. We almost imagine the
dead and dying scattered oyey those far
of fields, sad sequence Of bloody strife.
This is a land Of mystery and Of fiction,
the land Of CUdjoe's Cave and Uncle
Toms Cabin, and we peer into every he
gro's face as if We expected to discover
the veritable Uncle Tom, Aunt Chloe or
George or Eliza. To our boyhOods i'm
agination It is represented "a a land Of
ease, wealth and luxury, in strong con
trasts with toll, penary ard stripes a
land from which came oft-rePeated tales
that stirred cur youthful blood at once
with indignation and with sympathy.
1t Is hard to realize how we are held
wiling captiyes BY the chains Of educa-
tion and prejudice, and how quickly the
links part and set Us free before the en-
lightenment Of mutual intercourse and
knowledge. and how the dream yagaTies
conjured up in the imagination are dis
sipatstl by the 1ogicof experience
As soon as the tourist leaves Pennsyl-
vania and enters into Maryland and Nor
theru Virginia, a characteristic change
takes place in the farm landscape. There
are larger fields and fewer outbuildings,
less acreage Of grass, and a correspond
ing absence Of stock more dilapiiated
cabins and fewer f1rmhouses, more waste
snd carelessness. an 1ess neaness and
thrift than are found IN the rural dis
tricts of the North.
The villages are forthe most part small
collections Of dingy, dilapidated dwell
ings, a corn mill, a couple of stores, which
generally DO duty as dispensary Of dry
goods, groceries, fertilizers, farm utensils.
drugs and whiskey, so-cailed hotel, a
mixture Of a seeond-eIass saloon and
third class lodging house On saturdays
are congregated in tins exchange centre a
molly gathering of quaint. sallew, sham
bling, tobacco-chewing whites, and fat,
careless, gIgling negroes Of ali ages and
sexes, some half naked and others dress
en- in cheap holiday tinery. Here and
there can be recognized a planter, by his
simple, unpretending, gentIemanly bear
ing towards all, and his pleasant how
dy to Uncle jim, Aunt Nancy, Susan
and Joe, who in response are each eager
10 serve sIassa Henry his horse is Ia
ken as soon as his foot touches ground :;
his buggy is brought to the door on the
slightest signal, not with the sinister
movement of a Northern servant who ex-
poets a tip but with whOIe-souled Il
like-to-do it grin
The traffic Of the Southern towns is, FOR
the most part, not in the hands of the
natives for to do business is the role
ofan overseer or q foreigner bur the
ownership OF wo-thousand-acre plan
tation entities one to the heraldic es-
eutcheon Of an z. F. V. These plAnta-
tions were once extensive tobacco fields,
a princely estate, titled By slave labor,
the owners, noblemen by right Of do
main, but now they are simply j large
extent of worn-out, poverty stricken land
which is almost worthless, through %
years of excessive exhaustion caused by
alternating crops Of wheat and corn /;
corn for feed Of man and beast and wheat
as the money crop Without manure.
or the fertilizing effects of cattle and
grass growing, the soil, although rich in
possibilities. possesses but little Of its
original fertility. The hot sun of sum-
mer burns these heavy unshaded clays
saturated by spring rains, into brick
ike mass, fatal alike to grain or grass
plants
The impoverished, discouraged and
helpless farmerseeks relief in anathema-
tizing political corruption the silver
DOLLAR high tarif,H and monopoliz-
ing trusts while unjust taxation,
a railroad oppression and = negro DOM
nation come in for a share Of execra-
ton. There can be no help for this CON
dition Of things in this part Of the South
except by complete reorganization Of
the farm industries The. owners ofthese
large plantations without capital, are
They must consent to = 7 the
land, not as whole, but n such con-
venient farm parcels Of so or 100 acres,
and on such conditions as to induce pur-
ehasers who have capitai to undertake to
reclaim the land. They must also make
it possible for them to erjoy some Of the
aud social advantages which
have been their life-habit in their Nor
thern. Eastern or Western homes.
s. A. f.. Callman. Alabama.