The professional world. (Columbia, Mo.) 1901-192?, 1903-05-29
HAPTE I.

Lying along the Arkansas River, a
few miles below Little Rock, there is
a broad strip of country that was
once the domain of a lordly race Of
men. They were not lordly in the
sense of conquest; no rusting armor
hung upon their walls; no ancient
blood stains blotched their stairways
there were no skeletons in dun
geons deep beneath the banquet hall.
But in their own opinion they we're
just as great as if they had possessed
these gracious marks of medieval dis
tinction. Their country was compar-
atively new, but their fathers came
mostly from Virginia and their whis-
ky came wholly from Kentucky. Their
cotton brought a high price in the
Liverpool market, theft daughters
were celebrated for beauty, and their
sons could hold their own with the
poker players that travelled up and
down the Mississippi river. The
slave trade had been abolished, and,
therefore, what remained Of slavery
was right; and in proof of it the pull
pit contributed it's argument. Negro
preachers with wives scattered
throughout the community urged
their fellow bondsmen to drop upon
their knees and thank God for the
privilege Of following a mule in a
Christian land. The merciless work
of driving the negroes to their tasks
was performed by men from the
North. Many a son of New England,
who, with emotion, had listened to
Phillips and to Garrison, had after
ward hired his harsh energies to the
slave owner. And it was this hard
driving that taught the negro vaguely
to despise the abolitionist. But as a
class the slaves were not unhappy.
They were ignorant, but the happiest
song is sometimes sung by ignorance.
They believed the Bible as read to
them by the preachers, and the Bible
told them that God had made them
slaves; so, at evening, they twanged
rude strings and danced the buck"
under the boughs of the cottonwood
tree.
On the vine-shaded veranda the typ
ical old planter was wont to sit,
looking up and down the road, watch
ing for a friend or a stranger-any
one worthy to drink a gentleman's
liquor, sir. His library was stocked
with romances. He knew English
history as handed down to him by the
of king, but revered an aristocracy.
No business was transacted under his
roof; the affairs of his estate were
administered in a small office, situat-
ed at the corne of the yard. His
wife and daughters, arrayed in i'm
ported finery, drove about in a car
riage. New Orleans was his social
center, and he had been known to pay
as much as a thousand dollars for q
family ticket to a ball at the st.
Charles hotel. His hospitality was
known everywhere. He was slow to
anger, except when his honor was
touched upon, and then he demanded
an apology or forced a fight. He was
humorous, and yet the consciousness
of his own dignity often restrained his
nDinUmnnt of the 1nlinrnrc UNhnr
the cotton was in bloom his posses
sions were beautiful. On a knoll he
could stand and imagine that the
world was a sea of purple.
That was the Arkansas planter
years ago, before the great sentiment
al storm swept down upon him, be-
fore an evenings tea-table talk in
Massachusetts became a tornado of
iron in Virginia. When ragged and
heart-sore he returned from the army,
from as brave a fight as man ever en-
gagged in, he sat down to dream over
his vanished greatness. But his
dream was short. He went to work,
not to re-establish his former condi-
ton of ease-for hat hope was be-
yond him-but to make a living for
his family.
On a knoll overlooking the Arkan-
sas river stood the Cranceford home
stead. The site was settled in 1882,
by Captain Luke ~Cranceford, who had
distinguished himself in an Indian
war. And here, not long a%fterward,
was born John Cranceford, who years
later won applause as commander of
one of the most stubborn batteries of
the Confederate army. The house
was originally built of cypress logs,
but as time passed additions of boards
and brick were made, resulting in a
formless but comfortable habitation,
with broad passage ways and odd loll-