The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1899-04-19


| and pencil and said: Hello, Bishop.
Excuse me, but where are you going?'
The bishop pulled himself up gently
as the car began to move and said:
"My frieod, I am going to heaven.
Where are you going?' I enjoyed
that, but if had been the reporter
I think / would have asked: And
where is heaven, and how big is it,
and when will you get there? That
undiscovered country from whence no
traveller returns is still the mystery Of
mysteries. No, my friend, I repeat
that know not whence [ came nor
whittier I am geing and therefore T
humble myself under the mighty hand
Of God and trust Him as a little child
trusts its father.
I have just returned from brief
visit to Jacksonville: where I went in
search Of milder weather, for | have
"a bad cough and the grip, ETC., but [
did not find much difference. The
weather is bad everywhere-got on a
trust 7 reckon. 7 had some fun,
though, at the expense Of other peo-
pie. "A good old matron came to see
me aud lavished on me many pleasant
compliments and among other things
said: "You must come and see us.
We have every book that you ever
wrote upon our parlor table; Yes, we
have your Uncle Remus' and your
sMingo and Daddy Tack the runa-
way, and all your other books. Well.
now Of course, I didn't have the mean
ness in my heart to tell her that I was
not Joel Chandler Harris, SO [ just
swallowed it all down and felt fat
tered.
Next I tackled a conductor, and
when he read my pass he looked at me
and smiled: 81 am very glad to meet
you, major. Ny father was Colum-
bus man and he just banked on you.
Yes, up to.the day Of his death he
said everything that Bill Nye wrote
Bill Nye is dead, = said I solemn
". He looked bewildered and I re-
lieved him by telling him that I was
Bill Arp and not Bill Nye.
L wishI was rich. I know aman
whose name was Duncan, and one day
IT found him brooding over the fire in
his back store, and says l. "What are
you thinking about, Duncan - he
smiled sadly and said was just
wishing I was rich. y What for" said
I.s.Why just to have MY opinions
respected. One Of my customers
asked me this morning what ! thought
about cotton-would it go up or go
down, and I told him I thought it
would rise in few days, and'he told
another feller what I said and he
turned up his nose and said: Duncan
-Duncan-hang Duncan. What does
he know? Why dident you az Shorter?'
Well Shorter is rich and I'm poor, but
lI know more about cotton than he
does, for he never boughta bale in
his life.
Now, I don t want to be rich just to
have my opinions respected, but ]
, would like to have charity fund at
my command SO that I could respond
to some Of these pitiful appeals that
receive almost every day. They make
me heart sick and I can t do anything
About half the letters I receive ask
for something that / cannot supply
| They want to know the missing word
and some Of them actually offer to give
me half the reward if I will tell it tc
| them. And theh these chain letters
come almost every day and they ex
pect me to send some money and make
three copies and send to three of my
friends and pay postage all round
And some Of my young friends want
compositions or points for debate
about the Philippines or the Cuban
war. And some ambitious young peo.
pie send me lot Of poetry to be criti-
cised. They are afraid Of Frank
Stanton. Well, Of course, all these
letters are written with good intent
and some Of them have stamp in.
closed, but they are white man
burden and cannot do justice tc
them. AS for autographs, I send
them with pleasure, FOR it is an easy
task. I wonder if 'Uncle Remus
has similar experience. Neverthe.
less. I am still calm and serene.
BILL ARP.
a Beautiful Complexion.
There is no person on earth but what
| ] l0y n n