The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-10-04


ness, bounded only by one thing, bit
of thwarted ambition. A nothing, yet a
something! 1t has cost nothing as yet.
yet would cost untold wealth!
II is a tale of the great country resi-
dences, the immense baronial esta1 es
that are owned here as in England. But
here they have been gradually acquired.
And in this requirement, this buying up
of property to make a grand country
home, happened the curious experiences
that make baronial history.
When John D. Rockefeller bought
those hills around Tarrytown. placing
his titles over the country that runs
along the most picturesque part of the
Hudson, he planned placing a fence
around it all and inclosing all IN one
beautiful park. So large did he plan 1t
that, out driving he could drive ten
miles straight ahead without going off
his own estates.
In getting so vast a piece Of property
together many a stream had to be
crossed, many mountains climbed and
much surveying done. Acres upon acres
were added, as Mr.. Rockefeller found
new outlying pieces of property that
pleased him. At length, driving over
hia lands, he found himself in possession
of so many miles of property that he
needed no more. Here I shall place my
house" he said. "And the park shall
extend for miles around us, further than
we can see or walk or drive. 1t shall
be like a baronial estate into whose
depths the owner can penetrate, but Of
fering no access to the stranger"
When the surveyors set out TO place the
boundaries of the big fence they were
amazed to find a small piece of property
that was not in the plans. 1t consisted
of a small strip of land running back
about forty rods into Mr.. Rockefellers
domains. Upon the little plot stood
simple frame house, untenanted, while
around the door strayed a few lonesome
chickens.
The surveyors reported this to Mr..
Rockefeller. Purchase the piece of
property" ordered he.
When the Rockefeller agents approach
ed the small house they found an old
man out by the door feeding his hens.
81 doan't think as l want ter SELL" said
he redectively glancing over the spread
dng acres beyond. Fact is, l like ter
have a nice neighbor like that. I'm con-
tented here, dom chores for the neigh
bors an working out winters. No, doan't
want ter sell"
zone of those obstinate old fellows"
calculated the agent. Leave him alone.
He'll come around
Nut the man did not come around fast
enough. Meanwhile Mr.. Rockefeller
wanted to build that fence. The little
plot stood next the best water chance on
the place A beautiful little river cas-
cades into ravine back of the plot.
mi
aire. But he agent held out.
All summer the man worked out, doing
chores, and when winter came he housed
up, only going out to do odd jobs. Spring
dawned, and with II came the agent.
The old man by this time was ugly you
can't hev that thar house fur less than
$50. OO0," said he, "and cash at that
I'm pay it," said the agent. II will be
here tomorrow with the money and
lawyer
Next morning came the agent, the law
yer and the money. But when they APP
preached the house they saw something
had gone wrong. The chickens were run
ming wildly in all directions, the windows
were broken and the door hung mourn
fully upon one hinge. AS they stopped to
gaze at the strange sight a wildly dishe-
yelled figure came rushing around the
house crying: Money, money! Where's
the money? Let me eat 1t! Let me eat
N
raving mad with joy at the prospect of
sudden wealth Three months afterwards
he died in the madhouse!
Not all such tales have so tragic an end
ing. Upon the very border of Biltmore.
George Vanderbilt's North Carolina es-
tate there dwells a farmer, fat, rudy and
contented, knowing. as he does. that the
owner of Blltmore would give a cool mill
lion any day to GUST him.
Biltmore is so planned that its borders
end upon streams in forests. and upon
large adjoining estates of gentlemen. Bill
Nyes place touches Biltmore upon one
end. These people never annoy the own
er of Biltmore and he does not feel that he
has any territorial boundaries. Except
for this one farmer!
This old man sold his estate to George
Vanderbilt but carefully marked off one
section of it for himself. He did not sell
quite all he owned. There was stin a mar
row strip left. Upon this he moved his
little farmhouse and stubbornly refused to
bulge. Every year immense sums have
been offered him to sell the little farm
house and live elsewhere. But there he
lives, placidly smoking his pipe. tilling his
two or three acres, and enjoying the
shooting and fishing of his neighbor,
whose land dips down into valley just
there, making the old mans farmhouse
veritable spying ground.
Austin Corbin bought his immense
country estate more crafty than most
millionaires know how to do. For months
before he built his house he had old far
mers going around with their pants tuck
ed in boots saying to the farmers around
wall, guess Ia like to buy a strip of
that land o. yourn!
Think O. settling hereabouts2" the far
mers would ask.
'Wall-ye-es, if you don't hold your
land too high"
And so his crafty agents got hold OF
many and many a hundred acres at the
regular market price.
But there was one old farmer in the
interior Of the forest land who said moth
ing but sawed wood. When the make
believe farmers approached him. he an
swered, 81 guess ! won't sell Jest yit
in the spring this here woodl all be
gone. Then I'll sell the place ter yer"
We've got him cinched," said the wise
agents. That wood Is only good for this
seasons chopping." Meanwhile they
bought up enough land to mako a hand
some park and began to turn stone for a
house. But in the spring the old man
thought differently about moving. "Cliess
I've thought better Of it," he chuclled
The ground was broken the stone cortea
ana the mansion completed. Then came
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