The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1896-01-15

long days backward and forward be-
tween the horse lot and the front door
step, in solitary grandeur. But at
length, II Of the strangest little tur-
keys this young mother had ever seen,
were Matched out one day, and she
led them forth to hunt worms in the
fields and woods-proudly conscious
that she was the head of family
where five of them caught colds and
died from exposure.
But there was flock Of eight pick
ing up scattered corn before the crib
door when autumn came again, and
the farmer, with sigh, told his wife
that they had a good beginning for
another flock. But her spirit was
broken, and she formally abandoned
the hope of ever again boasting the
biggest, fattest, finest nock of bronzes
in the county, and her husband,
inwardly rejoicing, determined to
throw them upon the market. AS
Neighbor Stephens had just shipped
half carload to the city and gotten
nearly nothing for them, the prospect
was discouraging. So he set his brain
to work to devise plan by which he
would realize what they were worth.
Being a reader Of the newspapers, he
was familiar with an institution known
to moderns as rattle. But there was
about the rattle an element of specula-
tion and taint of the gambling table
that were repulsive to his orthodox
principles, and he abandoned the idea.
Then his memory travelled back to the
days Of his youth, when his father
took him to muster and a shooting
match, at which Caleb Kizer, long
dead. won pound beef by driving
the bulls eye at 80 yards, and he de-
tcrmined that there should be shoot
ing match, at which the contestants
should use shotguns, and the prize be
awarded to he who put a shot nearest
to the cross. 4 notice was posted on
the store door, small boy mounted
on a gray mule sent forth to spread
the news and the patriarchial gobbler
with his mate and their offspring,
decoyed into the barn with treachery
and scattered oats and secured in cot
ton baskets against the momentous
day. All too soon for the sorrowing
family it came; and loaded into the
farm wagon, drawn by their old friends,
the mules, they were transported to
KEGS Cross Roads, the nearest store,
and for the first time in the history Of
their race, placed in jeopardy by and
with the consent of their mistress.
There was a crowd of nearly 100 peo-
pie, including spectators and little
darkics, assembled at the cross roads,
and as that was before the days of the
hammerless, they came armed with
shotguns of every make and pattern,
from neat double barrel muzzle-load-
ers and a few breech- leaders, (the
latter regarded with mingled feelings
of contempt and distrust by the crowd, }
to old army muskets that had seen
service on the battlefelds of old Vir-
ginia. The first turkey was "made
up" Is shots at 10 cents shot,
taken for the patriarch ; each marks
man supplied with piece of white
paper and instructed to make cross
on the centre and write his name on
the corner thereof 40 PAGES stepped
off, the first target pegged to piece
of white plank and the first turkey
shooting-match begun. The match
being a free-for-all, with no discrimi-
nation on account of race, color or
previous condition Of servitude. One
Noras Dunham, who came armed with
an antiquated fowlong piece, once the
property of dead and gone master,
put one of four shot that struck f.
inch square piece of paper plumb in
the centre, and became thenceforth
the sole proprietor of the big gobbler.
His success elated the bystanders,
especially the little darkies, whose
sympathies were entirely with the
cheap and time worn yarns, and there
was a rush for chances at the old hen,
who was put up at s1.3O and won by
one of the despised breechloaders.
Afterwards such of the family as
agreed in gender with their father
we're shot off at s1.20, and such as
leaned to the sex of their mother, for
81 each.
The first turkey shooting was sue
cess and the fame of it spread like a
famine in the northeast, until it was
known throughout many States and re-
yered as an established institution.
They are usually held at Christmas,
or during Christmas week and the
breechloader, yea the hammerless, has
almost superseded the ancient and
time-honorcd muzzleloader, though
there are occasions when some benef-
ciary of the fifteenth amendment or
lopghaired supporter Of Anglo-Saxon
supremacy, comes up with a rusty
musket and puts stray shot so near
the centre, that the turkey is awarded
to him, while the bystanders and
especially the little darkies (whosc
sympathies are still with it, look wise
and rcafirm their confidence in the
good, old time scatter gun.
All important at shooting matches
are the judges. These are usually
men of tried courage, often veterans
of the late war, who, actuated solely
by disposition to obligc, imperil life
and limb pro bono publico. To them
are entrusted the targets, duly crossed
and labeled with the names of the con-
testants, and they, while keeping an
an eye to windward for occasional snap
shots and exploded gun barrels, peg
the targets to the planks, remove
them after each shot, and declare the
result of the match. Their decisions
are usually just and impartial. Where
there is any doubt pair of pocket
diyiders are called into requisition,
and measurements carefully made,
and an imposing sight it is to behold
these patriots, with their heads close
together, and the scales Of justice
evenly balanced, deciding the knotty
question, while the crowd looks on
with open mouthcd expectation.
Sometimes a judge goes in with a
marksman, and does a little neat
jockeying with a lead pencil, which
will punch as pretty hole in piece
of paper as any ever made by num-
bor 10 cbot Rut tbore orn risks