The National tribune., 1901-11-21

laHCIeS III tue way OF COlOTS ana patterns,
drew on his hands pair of spotless white
lamb mittens about the bigncss OF
a hornets nest, Kissed his wife>and daugh-
ters good-by,, grasped his faithful blue UNI
brella, picked up his carpet-sack, and
clambered into the spring wagon, in which
Marin was to drive him to the station.
As he stepped out onto the platform
at the depot he was rs good type OF the
substantial, prosperous, well-fed, we'll
clothed farmers of Indiana as the State
could afford lie was man for the yoSng
to model themselves upon and to hope 10
be as he was and look as he did Mt his
age. lie was an object-lessoB as to the
results of life of sober industry, thrift
and good citizenship.
A number of his friends and associates,
of like ilk, had gathered Mt the depot to
see him off. and have Il final consultation.
Just tell Norton" wheczed Uncle Billy
Lorimer, mot to be worried at all about
the stories of lots o rebels comm into
the County and arms being sent here. We
can take care of EN-, for awhile yet, mt
least, and he can use his troops in other
places where the Union men aint so
strong. We'U give 'em a mighty sharp
tussle, before we yell for troops, | tell
you; but | don't think there's any real
danger of il coming to that. I've been
down through the southwest Township,
and looked the newcomers over, and
talked with our people about them. They
are a poor, spiritless lot of white trash,
and awful lazy and shiftiess. They seem
mainly glad to get away from the fight
ing and be where they can get enough to
eat and not be disturbed. Our people are
hiring them to work. They amt much
account, except at the table. They make
a full man there thee times Il day, resfer.
But when they'r at work you've got to be
after EN- every living minute, telling EN-
what to do, and how to do it. | never did
see sich a shiftless passel. But our peO-
pie are holding on to 'em. because it S
Just as well to keep 'em where you can
have an eye on EN-, and see that they
amt up to no mischief. They won't be
allowed to vote under no circumstances.
Our people have read the riot act to the
COpperheads about that"
You know Jonas Doughty. over on Ha-
eel Crick," put in Uncle Tommy Gard
ner. Jonas is class leader in the Meth
odist Church, and a great man for peace
and brotherly love, but it don't pay at all
to rie Jonas. When he gets his mad up
it stays up good while, and he's liable
to do something that he'll repent and cry
over at the next meeting, and ask his
brethren to forgive him for He only
asks his brethren. though. He don't care
nothing about other fellers fOrgiving him.
Jonas has got fine farm, nearly all bot
tom land-but it's right near a nest of
COpperheads up in the hill region. The
other day that sneaking Tug Wilson came
up to him, and solemnly warned him as
Il friend to ease up on his talk against the
Knights Of the Golden Circle, and stop
interfering with things that didn't concern
hiD, or there was some bad men who
might burn his stacks. Jonas's bristles
riz at once, and looking Tug as square in
the eye as he could, he said, Wilson, |
haven't laid my hand on man in anger
for many day, and | pray that | may
never have reason to again. But il any
of my stacks are burnt, or any OF my
stock manned. | amt goin to hunt around
for the sneaking hounds that done it, but
I'm going straight for the rascal that put
'em up to it, and III know where to find
him. The day before the fire you'd bet
ter engage the doctor to come early the
next day. You'll need him, Wilson; you'll
need him. Probably you'd better pick out
your lot in the graveyard, too, Wilson.
Nothing like being prepared for anything
that may happen, Wilson"
Il guess Jonas stacks wont be burnt,
chuckled Uncle Billy Lorimer. II know
him well, and so do they. I'd insure his
stacks at low rate
At the farther end of the platform con-
GTegated another group of men, who sent
glanceS CT suspicion, GerisiOu and hatred
at those clustered around Deacon Klegg.
While the Deacon and his friends called
their own meetings consultations" they
spoke of those Of the ether mems rs
''plOttings' and 'conspeyracies." The
other group did not seem so prosperous
and well-fed as those who gathered around
the Deacon. They were a lean and hun
gry-lOoking lot. shabby as TO clothing, and
with several among them who might be
more than suspected Of carrying more or
less well-filled TASKS. Their horses, hitched
i. \
gaunt and ii-kept. The men of this
group were gathered around smooth
faced young lawyer, with silk hat and a
frOck coat, who could be occasionally over
heard as saying something about "Consti-
tutioDal liberties" abolition despotism,"
making niggers equals of white men,
grinding the poor down with taxes" ,"
dragging our sons into the army" etc.
Deacon Klegg gave the young lawyer
look of contempt as he went over to
the window to get his ticket, but spoke
pleasantly TO several of the men. whom he
knew to be well-meaning but shiftless fel-
lows, whom he was periodically helping
out.
There emerged from the group old Jerry
Crabtree, u particularly obnoxious Copper
head, and enthusiastic follower of Brick
Pomeroy and c. l.. Vallendigham.
Hello, Klegg," he chuckled, gleefully
have you heard from Sherman's army
yitf"
No" said the Deacon, curtly; but
Eve heard from Nashville"
'Oh, yes, you're maxim power of
fuss over drivin' off handful of half
starved men, that've bin coopin' up Thorn
ass whole army in Nashville for weeks
Thomas had to skin every man Outen MiZ
zOora and the whole West before he dared
go out and fight only Il part o Hoods
army. The rest o tbem'd went off some
where else. to make trouble for you
probably to Memphis. You'll hear from
'em agin. soon. You're maxim all this
fuss to cover up what's happened to
Sherman"
What's happened to Shcrman?" asked
the Deacon.
"Well, enough's happened to him, or is
happenin'. We've got news that amt al
lowed to appear in the papers, but Bory
gard, and Bragg, and Hardee have got
him dead to Enthusiastically cOopered up
and mebbe Hoods slipped round to hold
Il leg while they skin"
'You plaguey old Copperhead," said the
Deacon, Indignantly, Ito gloat so over your
country's misfortunes."
"'Tain't my country, no more, since you
Abolitionists spilled it."
crOaked the old man. mo white man kin
kcer for country where the niggers is
put above him. An jest suckin' our very
blood for taxes to keep 'em up, and white
people down"
Taxes from you, Jerry Crabtree!" said
the Deacon, scornfully. You hain't paid
taxes enough in your whole life to buy
OF tax-receipt made in your name would
be the only thing to save you from hang
ing, you'd swing sure as sunrise
'.See the blOated rich mock honest poy-