The Banner-Democrat. [volume] (Lake Providence, East Carroll Parish, La.) 1892-current, 1898-01-22
THE GEORGIA HUMORIST
HAS MORE TRl8ULATioNS DURING HIS
LECTURE TOUR.
Another Jsilo on Freight Train. How
ever, AIS Well That ENDS weil---phil
osopher Visits Spot Where Great Men
Are Buried.

a
ever, AIS Well That ENDS well---phiI
osopher Visits Spot Where Great Men
Are Buried.
Charlotte, N. c., is growing city
of 20, 600 people. Charlotte has the
best advertising sketchbook I ever saw.
1t is beautifully printed and illustrat-
ed and seems to be founded on facts.
They are distributed from all of the
hotels and are pleasant reading on the
train. 1t tells all about the health and
climate and altitude and business and
resources and public morals, but what
amazed and impressed me most was
the circle map that shows the number
of cotton mills within a radius of 100
miles from Charlotte. On this map
are black dots numbering the mills at
every town and the aggregate b 210,
or about so percent of all the mills in
the south. These mills operate 1,621,-
900 spindles and IA, 900 looms and are
capitalized at $50, 00O.0 900. This little
book contains tabular statement of
all these mills by name and capacity.
Charlotte has eleven of her own.
Now, 1 was Eliminating about this in
connection with FIVE cent cotton. And
there is some comfort in it, for we keep
at home all the profit there is in man
ufacturing and we give employmentto
thousands of our poor and dependent
people. Suppose that every township
in Georgia had cotton mill and that
all its earnings were spent and scat
tered in the. community, then we
wouldn't feel so bad over the low price
of the great staple. We would indi-
rectly share in the profits of manufac-
turing.
Once again I visited the old time
honored cemetery-the first graveyard
of old Mecklenburg county. L was
sorry to see that it has of late been
neglected and has grown up in briars
and weeds. 1 took note of some of
the old inscriptions, and this one espe-
cially attracted my attention:
sob, Crux-ave spes unica.
Sacred to the memory of Patrick
Harty, who was born in Tip
perrary, Ireland.
cit is holy and a wholesome
thought to pray for the dead that they
may be loosed from their sins.--II
Maccabees II, 49,"
There lies a good Roman Catholic,
thought I. He went to purgatory and
the priest prayed for him. Then I
ruminated about Maccabees not being
in the sacred canon, but was in the
Apocrypha, and the Apocrypha was
ruled out of the King James version in
1926. Then I turned to an old Bible
that had the Apocrypha and found
that the 18th chapter of II Maccabees
had only forty-five verses, but the last
three had the same Injunction to pray
for them who are dead, and further
more that Judas Maccabees raised
among his soldiers 1900 drachma
as sin offering for those who were
slain. / make no comment on this.
Martin Luther translated the Bible
and left in it these two books, as he
said, for human consideration.
There is another tombstone at Che
raw that interested me, for it marks
the grave of no man or woman now
known. It reads as follows:
"My name-my countrywide are they to
What-whether high or low my pedigree;
Perhaps far surpassed all other men,
Perhaps fell below them all-what then?
Suffice it, stranger, that thou seest tomb,
Thou knowest its use-it hides no matter
whom"
The other morning about daybreak
L left Charlotte for Lumberton, on the
Wilmington road. The breakfast house
was 70 miles away at Hamlet, and
when L got there I heard the conduct
or say: 'Twenty minutes for break
fast" But I dident hear him say
change cars for Wilmington and points
this side. You see am getting quite
deaf in one ear and can't hear at all
out of the other, but my wife says it is
astonishing how quickly L hear the
breakfast bell. We had q SPLEEN
did meal, and I regained my seat
in the same car. When about
mile from town the conductor
called for my ticket, and recog-
nized me as bound for Lumbertown.
He frantically pulled the bell cord and
told me to get off and hurry back, for
maybe could catch the Wilmington
train. Right then I was distressed,
for I knew there was no other train
that day, and I was billed to lecture
that night. The sand was shoemouth
deep. but I gripped my baggage and
foxtrotted about 200 yards and sud-
denly discovered that would have to
put on brakes for my wind was giving
out. Another hundred yards and I
had to stop and blow, for my heart was
humping like bass drum, and there
is so much heart failure nowadays
that I got alarmed and put down my
valise and sat on it. Just then I saw
my train steaming away like a snake
in the grass, and 1 involuntarily ex-
claimed, farewell, vain world, I'm
going home" So I took my time and
made haste slowly, and when L
reached the station was the picture of
disappointment and dispair. "What
can an old man do but die?" I
Wish now I had nv pho
tograph as was foxtrotting through
that sand, and then another as I saw
- L..