The Banner-Democrat., 1900-09-29
BILL ARP'S LETTER
Visits the Wiregrass Section and
Talks to the People.
TRAyERSES SOME .NEW" TERRITORY
Is Shown Spot Where His Father Taught
School In the Long Ago and Relates
Incidents In That Connection.

1t is good for o man to travel and
study geography without q book. I
am down here in the wiregrass talking
to the people living along the line
from Cordele to Savannah. This is q
new road to me. It is only ten years
old and is called the SAM" road.
The Seaboard has got it now. Sal has
bought Sam and is running him. II
railroads have sex the feminine is
ahead. Some mighty big things are
feminine. Ships are called she, but
that they say is because the rigging
costs more than the hull.
An old man showed me the spot at
Mt. Vernon where the old log school
house stood IN which my father taught
school some eighty years ago. Father
used to tell us his varied experience
there. How some bad boys had ran
three teachers off in succession and
broke up the schools and how reluc.
tantly he undertook the work OF re-
forming them. He had about sixty
scholars, boys and girls, and their
ages ranged from eight to eighteen
years. The oldest boy was six feet
tall, sapling with long arms and
legs, a red head and freckled face. He
was the ring leader in running the
teachers off and father was cautioned
about him.
The first day he made them good,
kind, friendly talk, told them he came
to do them good, to teach them books
and morals, and manners, and he
wanted them to obey the rules and
help him to make the school success.
"You can't afford, he said, "to grow up
without some education. No nice
young men would marry the girls, and
no smart girl would marry an unedu.
Gated boy. Now, boys, when you
come into school after dinner I want
you to come in good order. Don't
rush and crowd the doorway like you
did this morning. You ran over
little girl and threw her down and
hurt her. Be quiet and orderly and
come in two or three at time, and
before you take your eeat make little
bow to me. That's nice; that's good
manners. I will like that and I want
all of you boys and girls to do that.
Will yon do it? If you will, please
hold up your hands," All hands went
up promptly except those of Bill Jen-
kins, the red-headed rebel.
Next morning he declined to make
q bow, but looked sour and defiant.
When school turned out that evening
father heard him say: 'Tll be burned
if I'll make bow to any yankee. "
Next morning two other big boys failed
to bow. Bill Jenkins had worked on
them. That evening father told Bill
to stay in little while, as he wished
to see him after school broke up. He
stayed and the door was shut. The
other boys peeped through the cracks
between the logs to see and hear what
was going on. Father talked to Jen-
kins kindly and told him of the bad
example he was setting and so forth,
and begged him to conform to the
rules. "Now," said he, "William,
will you promise to make bow to me
tomorrow morning?" ''No, I'll be
burned if / do" said Jenkins.
That settled it. The crisis that ia
ther had dreaded had come. He got
between Jenkins and the door and
said firmly: "Well, sir, you have got
to do one of three things. You have
got to bow, or quit school, or take a
whipping. Which will you do?" 'Ill
be gol burned if I'll do airy one," said
Bill. Fathers hickory was within his
reach between two logs. He seized it
and began on Jenkins with stinging
strokes and Jenkins made for him
with his long arms, and used cuss
words abundant. They fought like
wild cats, turned over benches, broke
the water bucket and for ten minutes
the conflict ragged, for father was stout
and was in the right and kept the
hickory going and Tended off the
strokes of Bills long arms. After q
while they clinched and father got him
down between two puncheon seats and
pummelled him good. He hollered
enough and to let him up, and after
they got their breath father said:
''Now, jenkins, what Will you do. +"
He blubbered out, ''I'm gwine home
and stay there. I'll be gol burned il
I'm going to school to you any more.
"Well, why didn't you say that at first
and save the whipping?" said father.
All this time there were hundred
eyes peeping through the cracks be-
tween the logs, but not word was
said. Jenkins never came back and
the crisis was over. From that time
on for two years there was a good, or.
derly school and my fathers reputation
was made. The yankee had whipped
Bill Jenkins and that settled him in
the favor of him patrons.
wish everybody could visit the lit.
tie village of Longpond. It is in the
country, eight miles from Mount Yer
non. and eight miles from q railroad.
1 never was in a better settlement oi
farming people. I spoke there in the
day time aud those country people
came from far and near and spread be.
fore us the finest picnic dinner I ever
saw. It is q Scotch settlement, and
their fathers and grandfathers al
came from Robinson county, in North
Carolina. At least three-fourths of the
names begin with the prefix of Nc.
made memorandum of the many
Mes I was introduced to--all different
such as Macarthur, McRae, McAlis
ter, MoLnng. McNsir, McLaurin, Nc
Lemore, McGuffie, McDuffie, McCon-
mel. Mcdonald, Mcdaniel and 30
forth. There were thirty-seven OF
them and many of these had sons and
brothers and kindred of the same
name, and 80 it was Mo something
everywhere. If mans name begins
with Nc in that region it is guaran-
tee of good stock.
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