The Democrat. (Scotland Neck, Halifax Co., N.C.) 1884-1896, 1890-02-13

By HON. HENRY w. GRADY.

said The old men IF the South,
sitting amid their rains and looking
for better days, remind me Of the
Spanish hIdalgos sitting on t4e
pOrches of the Alhambra and looks
ing for the return of the Spanish
Armada"
There is pathos but little fun, 10
that, to me. These old men, for the
most part, lived stainless lives. The
curse Of fallen humanity, slavery,
under their wisdom and kindness.
largely lost its horrors and lived by
the excellence OF It's administration
when it had been condemned by the
wo-ll. About it they built ciylliz-
tiOn that in tender and engaging
grace has not, perhaps. been Cqualed.
The scenes amid which they moved.
as princes among men, have vanish
ed forever. A grosser and moro
material day has come in which their
gentle hands could garner but scant
ily and their simple hearts beat but
feebly. And so, without a murmur,
they pass quietly from the stage
never to give place to princelier and
better gentlemen. A S they sit in
the porches of their dismantled
homes into which dlshonor never
entered, and 10 which dscourtesy is
a stranger, and gaze out to the hOr>
izOn beyond which their Armada has
drlfted forever--though tue sea shall
not yield them from the argusies
that went down with their ships
yet their sons, rendered back in
Gods mercy, shall find them richer
and broader in prosperity than that
they have lost.
Years ago l was chum Of one of
these old gentlemen. That is, |
would sit at his side and listen for
hours 10 his quaint and courtly talk.
can see him now as [ write-his
kingly figure, his ruddy face, his
white hair, his Isle thread gloves,
his closelY-buttoned coat-hiding
poverty AMI pain. And with his
memory comes the picture Of old
Colonel Newcome, as he used to
stand in his black gown, with the
order of the Bath on his breast, and
answer "Adsum" with the pension
ers in Greyfriar's hospital. For my
old friend, too, leaned in bis old age
on charity he might have bought a
thousand times over In his youth.
One day he said to me: DO you
know it appears to me taat turkeys
have lost their fay0r?" | ayowed
that, to ne, the great bird was slill
toothsome. ''On my island, for
he was one of those sea-island kings
- they fed largely on mast, which
gave nutty richness to their meat.
bad thousands every year-the
finest birds imaginable" | suggest.
ed that from these great droves of
turkeys he must have had quite an
income. Income p he replied;
why, my young friend, no Southern
gentleman ever sold poultry !"
l happen to know ths old mans
soma strong, upright, manly fel~
| low. He came home from the war
bullet or two heavier then when he
left college and throwing off his gray
jacket-hung up, however, for his
children to revere-he went to work.
Sell poultry? Well, l should say so !!
He sells the eggs, then he sells the
meat, then be Sells the feathers, then
he has the soil Of his poultry-house
scrapcd up and sold. From these
once despised Tesources-sold with
huckster-hke cxactness, though in
larger spirit-he has rebuilt the for
tunes of his family. and restored his
father 20 independence. I see them
0ften-the old man, trembling and
aged, but happy Ii tle heart and
home OF his sOn-the Young man,
confirmed in bis new life, and hold
ing 1t to be, though more strenuous.
yet broader aud better than the OLD
life ever could have been. And as
they walk ont tOgether-and thcv
often do-each honoring and respe It
Ing the other, though their lives are
wide apart, | notice that tue OLD
mans hand seeks lovingly the young
mans shoulder, and rests there. en-
nobling it with the knighthop3 O. tht
Gfh commandments, as it Laws there
the unspeakab!e blessing Of an hor
ored and grateful father!
. Along the line Of the gulf coast