The Columbus weekly dispatch., 1907-05-23
MR.. JAS. STEVENS NOT DEAD.
like Mark Twain Writes That the
Reports of His Death Are
Greatly Exaggerated.
Burnett. Tex, May 3, 190l

|
sippi friend, I have seen the issue of
about the press fraternity of a quar-
ter century ago, and in the list my
name appeared among the number
Who We're dead. This is my first ex-
perience in being spoken OF as gath
cred to his Father and it gives rath-
err a queer feeling. / don't know how
it would be if the report were true.
Although self exiled from the State
of my nativity now going on twenty
eight years, and that long resident /
of imperial Texas, still everything
that concerns Mississippi is dear TO
me vet, and not the least pleasing and
grateful reminiscence today is of the |
editorial brethren of the long ago, |
when they met in glad reunion and
proved how proud and happy and
genial a body of men as lived could
be. and vet be as poor as Jobs tabled
turkey hen. The last time | par1c-
fpated in the ttglad gathering OF the
clans was at Pascagoula, where you
were elected president, where z. X
Mayers lived-he of the legitimate
press of the State"-and when we
gave the beloved ex-president of the
Lost Cause a reception that made
his eagle eyes melt into tears. | re-
ioice that P. K, like Daniel Web
ster. still lives and as we of the
| few survivors of the then Mississippi
Press Association would be glad once
more to take him by the hand.
How vividly the faces of the hon
ored crowd press in review before my
mind after so many years. The court
ly and affable Power, the s1ash1ng
McCardle (who hated SO for his name
to be spelled without the CD, Shan
non with the big foot and the COM
mon sense, and the uncompromising
Bourbon Horn; then, also, was the
elegant Walpole, and McCallum,
whose beauty of style made him the
/ Addison of the brethren. We recall
also genial and brilliant Alf Harper
of the Okolona Estates" and Kinloch
Falconer, the heroic martyr to yell
low fever, whose name did not ap-
pear in the late list of the beloved
dead. Ward of the Macon Beacon
was also forgotten, true poet and
modest as a girl, as was that other
poet of the press, S. Newton Berry
hill, associated with the worthy
: Washington; not to forget K. h
| Henry. then of the Brookhaven Lead
er. Just beginning to flash his maid
en- sword as a promising young edl-
tor, and acknowledged the handsom-
est man in the gang. H. ID. Money
now senator, made his mark as
speaker even then in the business de
liberations of the press, and was
elected treasurer of our association
: largely on account of his name.
. never met Geo. w. Harper of the ole
RAYMOND Gazette, but | did know hi
son, as also Jones of the Winona Ad
: vance, and who that met him couit
: ever forget A. J. Frantz of the Bran
don Republican? AS Byron said 0
his friend, Mature broke the dye il
:, moulding Sheridan
And there was S. A. Jonas of tn
i Aberdeen Examiner, modest as a ros
a and one of the most practical editor
. in the State, and author of the Line
on a Confederate Note, which vii
hand his name down to immortality
Il knew him, HaratiO." The onl
objection the press gang ever had {
= Jonas was that he never would al
T. meet at his home. Some though
: it was because he had so much 'pi
in his den that he was afraid tn
, bows would visit his Office and teas
him about it. He was then, and n
: doubt still is, an honor to the pres
of Mississippi.
These and dozens of other nobl
: quill-drivers Of reconstruction an
q past reconstruction times | have
st mind, but your space would perha1
: forbid the mention of them, and az
is apt to be garilous, and so | desis
e. AS poor Thackeray beautifully wrot
y when retrospecting his earlier an
n happier days, when I remembt
ne them, the roses bloom again and tt
- - nightingales sing by the calm BEND
nd mere"
10. Mr.. Editor, it is matter of n
cn consequence" as Mr.. Toots wou
say, but We all hate to be forgotten
so I ask you to give my love to Il
e. dear brethren, and tell them aft
% staying with the business some tive
ng ty more years in my adopted Stat
lot I retired broken in health (but
g in fortune, for I never had any
60 | hroaIxA To my little farm. where