Weekly graphic. [volume] (Kirksville, Adair Co., Missouri) 1880-1949, 1891-05-01
Mossback Elected.

In addition to being stranger
than fiction, truth is a great deal
more dangerous. The political
candor to which l have resorted
for revenge has begun to cause me
some trouble. but l wish to state
here ard now, that | am still at the
old stand and extensively in the
yanklng business. The skeleton,
like murder, must out. l feel l
WAS little lndiscreet in my re-
marks q! the Alliance meeting,
and very imprudent in publishing
the same last week. Believing the
Alliance would stand C chance to
beat part of the primary ticket
prescribed by the Multums, and
knowing its strength would have
to come mainly from the Republi-
can ranks, l tried to temper my
remarks to the occasion. | hold
that any Democrat, however long
his straight ticket pedigree may
be, is justifable in looking to Office
first and party afterwards. This,
of course, applies to the capable
Democrats who can read, write
and cipher, not to the less gifted
ones whose highest political honor
consists in participation in ratif-
cations and pole raisings. Some
years ago a fair representative of
this ever loyal majority stood by a
pole about a hundred feet long,
while preparations for raising it
were going on, and said with u
nasal intonation impossible to i'm
itate: Jeff and me could histe
that thing ourselves, we're so hot
in the cause!" All lonor to the
rank and file of the party, like this
man and his brother Jefferson, it
is the leaders with whom [ am in
open hostility. Had l been nomi-
mated by the Alliance last fall, with
a single hope of election, [ wonld
have voted the ticket, though the
ghosts of all my ancestors had
risen in protest. l still am Dem
ocrat-but l am in want. My Gre
dentials are beyond all question
ing. Once a Knight of the Golden
Circle, and suspected by the Put
nam county militia, [ was for a
time a hunted fugitive, without
any price on the corn | left be-
hind. Talk about "Ten Nights in
a Bar Rooml' What could that
be compared with what [ purpose
writing-"Forty Nights in the
Hazel Swampsp' To-day, for par
tvs sake, l suffer from rheumatism
and Indigestion. Golden Circle,
indeed! The only thing golden l
ever found connected with that OF :
der were the opportunities of es-
Gaping from those awful militia.
In 1876 Iyelled louder than any
other Democrat IN the county
"Iilden or blood" and to this day
even [ fairly ache to kill few mig
gers because of his defeat. But I
have become politically desperate
ID my needy old age, and, Nero
like, could almost fiddle while the
radical msjorities hummed over
the wire.
Last Saturday [ was in a store
in town, feeling very lonesome and
disconsolate, and signing for the
vanished ante-primary days of last
spring, when candidates were
abundant and you could smell a
plain monosyllable half a mile,
even on Sunday, when the back
door was not locked. The pro-
prietor of the above is a Democrat
with great expectations centering
at the court house. He was pledg-
ed to the parson of whom [ wrote
in former letter, but voted
against him on account of the
wretched trickery of the Multums,
as | did. So far the promise of
future favors has meant no more
to him than to me. But like the
character in Job, he continues to
feed on the east wind. He usually
has little to say to me, as my
pocket book is somewhat dyspep-
tic and my prospects rather shady.
But he was cold as the North Pole
when l wanted to look at a pair of
shoes. Have none elegant enough
for a statesman" he said curtly.
Better wait till your Alliance
clan build an emporium. 1t will
propably have the Simpson gaiter
on credit to men like you" | de-
sired an explanation. After look
ing whole volume of ineffable
contempt, he told me a Republi-
can had shown him that morning
my address in the GRAPHIC. Wish
ing an article or two on credit be-
sides the shoes that day, thought
| would better attempt a judicious
explanation. But he would not
listen: He poured out torrents Of
inyectiye, denunciation and dog
matism in fashion that stupefied
me into silence. Though his tones
had not the oratorical resonance,
yet they were too audible for my
comfort or his business. Custom
ers forgot all about prunes and
calico, and listened to the burning
verdict of my degradation; clerks
either dropped their yard sticks in
wide-eyed establishment, or was
dismayed to the point of giving
down weight. 1t was scene that