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TIIE-STIIIDAI1D.
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THE STANDARD.
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PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY AT
CONCORD, N. C
Kates of Advertising:
One square, one insertion, $ 50
One square, one month, . - 1 00
One square, two mouths, 2 00
One square, three months," 2 51
One square, six months, . 5 00
One square, one year, 9 CO
TERMS :
ONE YEAR, CASH IN ADVANCE, $1-25.
SIX MONTHS, - - .75,
VOLUME 1.
CONCORD, N. C, MARCH 30, 1888.
NUMBER 12.
A HE A Li KOMANCE.
The Trajr
edy of a CJeorxia
Moon-
shiner's Life.
A ins .wk? passen sers w no ar
riv.-d at the iTnion Depot in fndian
.ijiolis on the carlv train from St.
Louis recently was a party consist-
v.Z or two. gentlemen, aim a lady.
One of the former appeared td be in
lie last stages of con'snmption, and
1 he lady's countenance and languid
movements gave evidence of long
v igils and pungent sorrow. As they
Toft the train the invalid was assisted
into' the waitiug-room by his com
panions, and was made "as comforta
ble as possible on one of the benches
in tire ladies' waiting-room.
The invalid's robust companion
proved to be Col. Sam Johnson, a
deputy United States marshal of
Georgia, and he gave the names of
hi:? companions as George Alrowand
v.-ife. ' rr '.. '.: ; .-"
Col. Johnson's story of Alrow's
ife was to the effect that he is about
twenty-five years of age and lives on
; farm on the Georgia side and near
the base of the'mountain range
which divides that State from Ten
nessee. AVhile very young Alrow
married Mary lionen, a neighbor's
laughter and the belle of the rural
district, and went to housekeeping
in the old homestead. This was
some "eight "miles from the nearest
village, and Alrow erected a small
storeroom and invested his surplus
money in a stock of goods suited to
the wild section in which he lived.
The rougher characters of the
mountainous section soon began to
loaf around, and the young wife
ceased to visit the store with her in
fant offspring, and remained in the
house a victim of constant forebod
ings. As the store was situated near
the dwelling, every loud word was
plainly heard by the wife, and she
noticed that the crowd which fre
quented her husband's store was daily
becoming more and more disorderly.
Less than a year had thus passed
when late one. evening Mrs. Alrow
hoard an altercation in the store,
and, taking her sleeping infant from
its cradle, she hastened to the store
and entered by the rear door. She
miw that her husband was, quarreling
with some one who was standing in
front of the building, and she ad
vanced excitedly to the middle of the
long, narrow room. Suddenly there
was a bright flash, followed by 'a
fharp report, the infant form in her
arms quivered a moment, a deathlike
pallor spread over its face, and a low
moan escaped its lips. The despe
rado's bullet, aimed at her husband,
had missed its mark and had buried
itself in the lender form which lay
in the sleep of innocence in her arms.
When the neighbor's arrived they
found Alrow in a state of mental
anguish which bid fair to dethrone
his reason. For three hours he wan
dered mechanically from room to
room without appearing to under
stand the cause of the solemnity
which pervaded the house. Sud
denly he seemed to be struggling
with himself to recall the events,
then there was a look of intelligent
remembrance in his eyes, and he bent
over the form of his still unconscious
wife and burst into tears. Recover
ing himself a moment later, he arose,
took down his rifle from the pegs
over the 'door and quickly left the
house, going in the direction taken
lv the desperado after firing the fatal
shot.
The next two days passed without
any word from the absent husband.
The infant remains were laid to rest
in the country churchyard and the
childless wife returned in sorrow to
her home. As she was lifted from
the heavy road wagon in which the
j vmains of the infant were borne to
the grave ,her husband appeared at
the door. Addressing her calmly
and without visible emotion, Alrow
said :
" Mary, the vengeance of God has
overtaken the murderer of our babe.
Let this be enough to explain mv
absence, and let this be forever a se
cret between us."
When three days later the assassin
was found on the mountain side dead
with a bullet in his brain the people
knew that the infant's death was in
deed avenged,
While every one supposed that he
had fallen by the hand of the man
w hose home he had deprived of its
brightest jewel, no effort was made
to hold him responsible for the deed
before the law. ,
'instead oi acting as a euro upon
Airow, the terrible ordeal through
which he had passed seemed to drive
him to desperation, and an entire
change came over him, his associates
becoming of the most desperate
character. In less than a year after
the murder of his child he fell under
t ho suspicion 6f the Government
oflw-ers, 'and a watch was set upon
I: ; m. One night last summer a large
box, which lett. his, store . and .was
nop nosed to contain fresh eggs, was
intercepted by the' Government offi
cials and . tne guilt or AJrow was
proven, as the box was found to con
tain several jugs of illicit whiskey.
Karly in December a desceni was
made on the still where the liquor
was made, and in the fight that en
sued Alrow was dangerously wounded
in the side and slightly wounded in
the leg. He was left at home for
treatment that night and two officers
were left to guard him, while the
other prisoners were taken at once to
Atlaula.' I' The wounded man tossed
about ori 'liia bed with a burning
fever, and his, wife made a number
of trios to the. large spring in the
the,, large spring,
rear or tne
"house to get him cooling
draughts of water. What happened
during tl;e night is not known, but
the probabilities are that the guard
fell asleep, for when they; thought
that Mrs. Alrow remained longer at
the spring than usual they went to
the bed and found that she had taken
her husband's place in it and that he
had passed out. It was useless to
seek him in that wild, section, and
the officers contented themselves with
keeping" a close . watch upon the
movements of his wife,, right judg
ing that she would be the first to get
in communication with him. Wheth
er she heard from him in the mean
time or not the officer did not know,
but in January he received word that
Mrs. Alrow wouldrleave for the West
immediately, and ' he was ordered to
follow her. He started at once, and,
upon reaching Cincinnati, found that
he was upon the same train with her,
and, learning from the conductor
that Mrs. Alrow had a ticket to
Santa Fe, N. Mi; the officer, without
making his own identity known, fell
into conversation with her, and was
frankly told the object of her West
ern trip. When they reached their
destination. Col. Johnson as frankly
revealed the object of his visit, but
informed her that, if her husband's
condition was as bad as she had rep
resented, he would not put him un
der arrest, but would furnish what
assistance he could in their returning
home.
it seems that Alrow s wounds re
ceived no attention until he reached
the West, several weeks after his es
cape irom tne omcers, and, Having
contracted a severe cold, it settled on
his lungs, and he went rapidly into
consumption.
wm m
' Senator Vent to Retire.
senator V est lias informed some
of his friends that it is his purpose
to retire from the Senate at the end
of his present term. The decision
has occasioned no little surprise. The
Senator s most intimate friends can
scarcely believe that he will actually
adhere to his determination, for a
seat in the United States Senate can,
perhaps, be retained by Mr. Vest
during the balance of his natural life
should he desire to hold it. His
tenure will continue as long as his
party retains power in Missouri and
lie desires the post, and even the most
sanguine Republican scarcelv hopes
to live to see tne aay wnen nis pajty
will carry Missouri.
Senator Vest was elected to the
Senate in 1878, by the practically
unanimous decision of his party in
Missouri. He took his seat in 1879,
and six years later was re-elected
unanimously by. the Democrats of his
State. There is no question that he
could be returned with the same
unanimity in 1800, but his health
has been very much impaired, and
he feels the need of rest. Senator
Vest has a peculiar hold upon the
people he serves. He has their per
sonal regard and affection to a marked
degree. They are proud of him, and
feel that, they could not do too much
for him.
In 1876 he announced himself
candidate for Governor, and in every
part of his State his friends went to
work for him with a will. That year
the Democrats held two State con
ventions. The first chose delegates
to the National Convention to be held
at St. Louis and went no farther, it
being held the part of wisdom to
wait until after the National Con
vention to put the State ticket and
platform out. At St. Louis the ticket
of lilden and Hendricks was nomi
nated, and soon thereafter the State
Convention assembled to nominate
State officers. Col. Vest's .friends
were jubilant. They were over
whelmingly in tne maionty. A ru
mor to the effect that the Tilden
managers had pleaded for the nomi
nation of a candidate with a Union
record during the war had disturbed
tne mends oi v est, out tney were
too full of enthusiasm to pay much
attention to it. But when the dele
gates began to assemble it was ob
served that there were mysterious
whisperings and conferences. The
upshot was an authoritative request
presented to delegates individually
that no ex-Confederate be nominated
for governor. It was regarded as of
great importance to the success of
the Tilden ticket that a man with a
Union record be put in the field.
The Democrats of Missouri were not
willing to jeopardize the success of
the national ticket, nor was Mr. Vest
He frankly declared that he did not
share the' apprehension as to; the in
jnrious effect of ! the nomination of
an ex-Confederate, but admitted that
the Tilden managers ought not to be
handicapped. Old and bearded men
bronzed veterans of the civil war and
of many hard-fought political fields
actually shed tears because they were
11 1 1 i ' -i AT' I
lmpeueu. to voie .against esu. oi
rlielps, an ex-union soldier, was
nominated for Governor, but after
the., convention; adjourned scores of
the delegates rushed to Mr. Vest's
room. Thev protested against the
political fortune that had driven
them to nominate another man; but
consoled themselves by saying, "Nev
er mind, George, we will send you to
the Senate," and within little more
than two years they redeemed that
promise. W ashington Star.
CiOIXOTO JOHN'. I
Her Poor Old Heart Was Troubled.
"Going north, madam ?'
" No, ma'am."
"Going south, then ?"
" I don't know, 'ma'am."
" Why, there are only two wavs to
p." -
I didn't know. I "was never ou
he cars. I'm waiting for the train
to go to John."
"John? There .is no town called
John. Where is it?"
"O I John's my son. He's out in
Kansas on a claim."
" I'm going right to Kansas my
self. You intend to visit ?"
"No, ma'am."
She said it with a sigh so heart-
burdened that the stranger was deeply
touched.
"John sick ?"
"No."
The evasive tone, the look of pain
in the furrowed face, were noticed
by the stylish lady as the gray head
bowed upon the toil-marked hand.
She wanted to hear her story : to
help. her.
"Lxcuseme John in trouble.''
" No, no ; I'm in trouble. Trou
ble my old heart never thought to
see.
" The train does not come for some
time. Here, rest your head upon my
cloak."
"You are kind. If my own were
so i snouid not De in trouble to
night."
"What is v;our trouble ? Maybe
I can help you."
" It s hard to tell it to strangers,
but my bid heart is too full to keep
it back. When I was left a widow
with three children I thought it was
more than I could bear ; but it wasn't
bad as this"
The stranger waited till she had
recovered her voice to go on.
" I had only the cottage and my
willing hands. I toiled early and
late all the 3-ears till John could
help me. Then we kept the girls at
school, John and me. They were
married not long ago married rich,
too, as the world goes. John sold
the cottage, sent me to the city to
live with them, and he went West to
begin for himself. He said he had
provided for the girls, and they'd
provide for me now."
Her voice choked with emotion.
The stranger waited in silence.
" I went to theni in the citv. I
went to Mary's first. She lived in a
'eat house, with servants to wait
on ner a house manv times larger
than the little cottage but I soon
found there wasn't room enough for
me."
The tears stood in the lines of her
cheeks. The ticket agent came out
softly, stirred the fire and then went
back. After a pause she continued :
" I went to Martha's went with
a pain in my heart I never felt be
fore. I was willing to do anything
so as not to be a burden. But that
wasn't it. I found that they were
ashamed of mv bent;, old body, and
my withered face ashamed of my
rough, wrinkled hands, made so toil
ing for them."
The tears came thick and fast now.
T, he stranger's head rested .carelessly
on" the gray head.
"At last they told me I must live
at a boarding-house, and they'd keep
me there. I couldn't say 'anything
back. My heart was too full of pain.
I wrote to John what they were go
ing to do, He wrote right back a
long, kind letter for me to come right
to him. I always had a home while
he'd a roof, he said; to come there
and stay as long as I lived; that his
mother should never go out. to stran
gers. ; So Fni going to John. He's
got only his rough hands and great
warm heart, but there's room for his
old mother God bless him."
The stranger brushed a tear from
her fair cheek and awaited the con
clusion. " Some day when I am gone where
I'll never trouble them again, Mary
and Martha will think of it all.
Some day when the hands that toiled
for them are folded and still ; when
the eyes that watched over them
through many a weary . night are
closed forever ; when thelittle body,
old, bent with the burdens it bore for
them, is put away where it can never
shame them "
The- agent drew his hand quickly
before his eyes, and went out as if
to look for the train. The stranger's
jeweled fingers stroked the gray locks,
while the tears of sorrow and the
tears of sympathy fell together. The
weary heart was unburdened. Sooth
ed by a touch of sympathy, the trou
bled soul yielded to the longing for
rest, "and she fell asleep. The agent
went noiselessly about his duties that
he might not wake her. As the; fair
stranger watched she saw a smile on
the careworn face. The lips moved.
She bent down to hear.
' " I'm doing it for Mary and Mar
tha. They'll take care of me some
time."
She was dreaming of the days in
the little cottage of the fond hopes
which inspired her, long before she
learned, with a broken heart, that
some day she would turn, homeless
in the world, to go to John.
A progressive dinner party tramp.
Burlington Free Press.
It is said a "contented mind is
fattening." It may be, but we like
a little meat and potatoes.
The Elri h iniMau,
I have been hearing a good deal
lately about the elephant man, as he
is commonly called, for he has been
creating much interest- in medical
circles and even general society.
This pocr creature, whose name is
John Derrick, is suffering j from 1 a
variety of" complex diseases, which
give Lim the appearance of a most
extraordinary monster. His skin
hangs in great folds on his dispro
portioned body ; tie has an immense
bony enlargement of the head, which
makes it so much too large for his
body that he is never allowed to lie
down, but has to sleep with it on his
knees, and his mouth is so extra
ordinary displaced that he cannot
drink without jerking his head right
back. One leg is three or four times
larger than the other, and in the
hands there is a similar disparity.
His life, though he is only 28, has
been a very curious one; a large
portion of it having been spent in
traveling shows i various coun
tries. On the last occasion he was
persuaded to accotipauy a man to
Belgium, but when he got there,
this heartless wretch borrowed all
his savings and left Lira penniless
and helpless in a strange country.
With great difficulty he managed to
get to London, for such is the hor
ror of his aspect that he is not al
lowed to walk in the streets, and
the steamers at first refused to take
him. His troubles are now to a great
extent over, foi funds have been
collected to maintain him. Derrick
is most grateful for any kindness
shown him, and -is always delighted
to see any visitors. The Prince and
Princess of Wales, when they went
over the London Hospital, spent a
few minutes with him, which gave
him very great pleasure, and for sev
eral days he could talk and think of
nothing else.
A touching incident is told of how
a lady went to see him when he was
first at the hospital, and on her
shaking hands with him he burst in
to tears. With great difficulty he
was persuaded to tell the cause of
his distress, but at last ho confess
ed tnat never belore Dad a woman
shaken hands with him ; they had
usually screamed with norror at his
approach. Derrick is wonderfully
contented, and manages to amuse him
self by making models of buildings
and ships very clevfrely out of card
board, wood, cork, -ictc. His other
favorite occupation is reading novels
of the. most thrilling aud blood
tbirsty type. Unce be bad eveu
been taken to the theater, in accord
ance with the wish of his heart.
The royal box at Drury Lane was
given him for an afternoon perfor
mance ; he used the Queen's private
entrance, and few present were
aware that the uncouth man of whom
they had heard was enjoying the
pantomime with them. Derrick was
entranced by all he saw, and no
wonder, for it most have seemed
like a dream to the poor creature
who bad seen nothing of the .bright
side of life.
The care and treatment he receives
are gradually strengthening him,
though he can never hope to recov
er in the least from the horrible dis
ease with which he is afflicted, and
which, to a certain extent he has
had from' his birth. " He quite re
alizes tne interest wnicn science
takes in his ease; and one day re
marked to a doctor who was visiting
him: "Do you know, sir, it often
strikes me that when I die, I shan't
be buried." The thought, however,
of being preserved after death as
curious "specimen" did not seem in
any way to give him pain. As
proof of the interest which is taken
in his case, f may mention that, on
hearing he had a great desire to
possess a watch. Lady Dorothy Ne
ville got up a subscription to pro
vide him with one.' Several roj'al
ties, including H. R. H. the Prince
of Wales, aud H. It. H. the Duke of
Cambridge, gave donations, and
over 100 was collected, which was
spent in buying him a most beautiful
chronometer. London Correspon
dent of the Philadelphia Telegraph
Calm.
There are persons possessed of
such admirable serenity and self
possession that nothing can disturb
them overmuch. Whatever may be
the cause they are indifferent to
things that shock or grieve or anger
other people.
An old lady was rescued by a fire
man from the fourth story of a burn
ing building. She did not scream.
nor stru2rle. nor resist when he
dragged her from her bed, pulled
her through a window, and carried
her down a ladder to the street below
When he at last put her in safety
on the sidewalk, she gathered her
clothes about her and said, calmly
"Much obleeged ; aud if you could
just run back, new. and get my duds
I'd thank you kindly."
When told that her "dads," nor
nothing else, could be recovered
from the buildin , which was now
wrapped in flames, she cooly quoted
the old saying. "Well, them as has
must loose,' an' my duds wan't wuth
much nohow."
WmideK of Woodrrafl. '
Of all the feats common to hent- j
ing life and woodcraft, none seem
to me half so wondeiful as trailing
and tracking. As practiced by man.
tracking is wonderful, enough . but
far more marvellous'is the power by
which a dog or fox can follow its
prey at full speed, guidtd. only by
scent, without erring or being led
astray.
To us the word scent has but lit
tle meaning ; it is the . name of a
power with which a man is, com
paratively, almost unendowed. .We
go into the woods and see noth
ing but a leaf -strewn ground, thinly
scattered over with herbs and thick
ly planted with trees; we see no quad
ruped, and find no sign of . any, per
haps, save the far away chatter of the
squirrel. But our dog, merrily ca
reering about, is possessed of a su
perior power. At every moment of
his course he is gathering facts and
reading a wonderful record of . the
past, the present and even the future.
"Here," says his unseen guide, "is
where a deer passed a minute ago ;"
"this was the course of a fox a week
ago , tnat was tne direction in
which a rabbit flew by a few minutes
ago, and there was a weasel after
him.".
Such is the curious record of scent,
revealed to the dog but hidden from
the man, and even inexplicable to
him ; for though we have a theo
retical knowledge of the subject, it
is too imperfect to make . us . fully
understand that not only has. every
kind of an animal, but eaeh individ
ual aDimal its own peculiar scent.
Thus, the dog can distinguish
not only the bucks, does and fawns
of the deer tribe, but can pick out of
a dozen the track of the buck that
he is following, and never leave it or
lose it. Morever, he can tell by the
scent which way the animal is going,
and he is never known to run back
ward on a trail. Now, when we
compare this wonderful power with
our own feeble sense of smell, . we
will be ready to admit that it is a
faculty of which man, comparatively,
has little.
Let us suppose that you were to
awake some -fine morning and find
that, as in the old fairy tales, a
mighty genius had conferred on you
a new and wonderful faculty, that
enables you to go forth and read
tne running records, witn . even
greater accuracy and ease than can
the hound- what a marvel it would
be, and how intensely interesting its
exercise to a lover of nature ! And
yet this very miracle is what actually
takes place every year in our coun
try.
Educated Editors.
The money expended by the editor
of the Meriden (Miss.) Democrat
fdr a college education was riot
thrown away. In describing the
building of Mr. Wilson's smoke
house, in spite of the effortsof the
bucket-brigade, he says :
"The water seemed to spur the
fire to wilder deeds. The flames and
the smoke climbed and rolled higher
and higher, and the ' scene became
luridly, awfully magnificent beyond
tottering words' power to paint. It
was a canto ot Dante's "Inferno,"
acted in all its firey pomp and splend
or. Banners of flame would now be
waved out by dark smoke-hands,
then ten million curling little pen
nons of fire would hiss, and flutter,
then vanish, and a great reeling
tower of smoke, whose darkness was
stabbed and spangled with flame
and sparks, would fill the scene,
while all around the surrounding
buildings grimly shot back from re
flecting surfaces a crimson greeting,
and up in the far-off sky the out glis
tened stars turned pale for shame,
and the moon, through the drifted
smoke, glowed like a bowl of blood
It pays to give a boy a good edu
cation when you waut to make an
editor of him Milwaukee Sentinel.
He Wouldn't Walk Any More.
Jabe Mathis, of the Thirteenth
Georgia, was a good soldier ; but one
day when the Confederates were re
treating from the field of Gettys
burg, Jabe threw his musket on the
ground, seated himseli by the road
side, and exclaimed, with much ve
hemence :
" I'll be dashed if I walk another
step ! I'm broke down. I can't do it."
And Jabe was the picture of ; de
spair.
. "Git up, man !" exclaimed his cap
tain. " Don't you see the enemy are
following us ? They will git you,
sure!
"Can't help it," said Jabe; "I'm
done for. I'll not walk another
step." '
The Confederates passed along over
the crest of a hill, and lost sight of
poor, dciectcd Jabe.
In a moment there was a fresh
rattle of musketry and a renewed
crash of shells'. Suddenly Jabe ap
peared 011 the top of the hill, moving
like a hurricane and followed by a
cloud of dust. As he dashed past
his captain that officer veiled:
" Hello, Jabe ! T hought you wasn't
going to walk any more t .
"Thunder!": replied Jabe, as he
hit the dust with renewed vigor,
"you don't call this walking, dp
your
Ol'R STATE PI BLIC SCHOOLS.,
Abont Their Financial Condition.
Since the war the foHowing dis
bursements have been made ;
In -1871...., 177,407 91
In 1872 173,275 62
In 1873 196,675 07
In 1874. 297,090 S5
In , 1875 No report.about same as 1874
In 1876 334.163 14
In
In
In
In
1877 ; 319,813 00
1878...., 324,827 10
1879 326,040 35
1880... 352,882 65
In 1881..... 409,658 88
Jn 1882 509,736 02
In 1883. 623,430 98
In 1884.... 640,245 20
In 1885 630,552 32
In 1886...... ., 671,115 65
In 1887 653,037 33
The Constitution of 18G8 required
the proceeds of the sales of swamp
ands and. the receipts from fines.
forfeitures, penalties and certain
other funds to be invested as an ir
reducible fund, the interest of which
alone was to be used for school pur
poses. . " ;
The Constitution, as amended in
1875, while still requiring receipts
from the same sources to be used for
school purposes, gave to the General
Assembly the power to distribute all
school funds to the counties for im
mediate use. In 1876 the General
Assembly enacted that the irreduci
ble fund should be retained but that
it should not be increased except hy
the items mentioned in Art. 9, Sec. 4
of the Constitution, from which no
thing was received except from the
sales of public lands, and but' little
from that source. - .
In 1881 the General Assembly di
rected that this-furid should be. dis
tributed to the counties, and conse
quently in August, 1881, a distribu
tion of 1:4,883.25 was made, and in
NovemVer, 18S3, another of $74,448.78
was made. These amounts were used
by the county school authorities
during the years 1882, 1883 arid 1884,
and swelled the amounts applied
during those years to school pur
poses, as will appear by the figures
given above. .
The question is frequently asked
why the counties now get no money
from the State fund. The answer is
that the legislation now on our stat
ute books does not contemplate put
ting any money into the State treas
ury for schools, except such as comes
from tax 5n acts of incorporation by
the General Assembly and from the
sales of public lands. Receipts from
these sources have as yet amounted
to but very little. Our statutes leave
all other school funds in the counties
where collected to the end that they
may be used as rapidly as possible
It has not been. thought wise or pro
per for this poor generation to at
tempt to accumulate a permanent :
school fund.
During the years 1871 and 1872
there was a tax of 6 cents on the $100
of property ; "after 1872 and until 1881
the tax on property was 8J cents on
$1C0 of property, and after 1881 it
was 12 cents, at which figure it now
stands.
In addition to this general proper
ty tax the Constitution applies at
least three-fourths of all poll tax,'
both State : and county, to school
purposes, which amounts to an aver
age of about one dollar and fifty
cents (when the limit of $2 is reached
the exact amount is 1.592) on each
poll that is collected.
The statutes apply now, and have
for years, and fines, forfeitures and
penalties imposed by the Superior
Courts and by the justices of the
peace, most or tne receipts irom
liquor licenses (all except from the
wholesale licenses), . receipts from
auctioneers, estrays, articles of in
corporation issued by County Supe;
rior Court Clerks, and tax on dogs.
From these sources our school
funds, so far as they are levied by
the General Assembly, are derived,
and the funds are not put into the
hands of the State treasurer, but all
are retained in the counties where
they are raised.
In counties where the State taxes
levied in the revenue law and in the
school law, and the county taxes
levied by the commissioners includ
ing school tlxes, do not amount to
more than 66 2-3 cents on $100 of
property, and $2 on polls, the com
missioners, are required to levy
enough lax, in addition to the funds
secured under the general State lev
ies as above mentioned, to continue
the schools four months per annum.
Inmost counties, however, after
providing for county expenses, the
commissioners find no margin left
for application to schools. Prior to
the Supreme Court decision in Barks
dale vs. Commissioners of Sampson
county, 93 JN. J. lieports, tne com
missioners were required to have
four month's terms whether or not
they exceed 66 cents tax on proper
ty and S2.00 on polls. It will be no
ticed that the receipts for 1887 were
$23,263,98 less than they were in 1886,
while the laws were just the same.
The fall off in receipts is to be at
tributed to the decision referred to
and to the failure, I think, of an un-
usually large number of persons . to
pay their poll taxes. ... ....
. Some commissioners are now so
mauagir g county matters as to applv'
all the poll tax to schools, while oth
ers find .that for ordinary purposes
they do not need the full margin of
341-6 cents now left them by the
General assembly, and so levy some
thing for schools as sections 2,590 of
the school law requires them to do.
The County Boards of Education
press their claims upon the Boards
of Commissioners and not unfre-
quently the commissioners are
brought to greater economy in their
administration of county matters to
the end . that the schools may ba
brought up to the lour months that
the Constitution requires as a mini
mum. 1 cannot too mucn commend
such consideration on .the part of
the County Commissioners, and can
but cherish the hope that, to the end
that our school system may be made
more effective and more popular, all
the commissioners will do every
thing in their power to increase the
funds. Let them do this and go to
the limitation. The money thus
raised and applied, in deed all school
money under oui system, stays at
home in the county where raised
and so does not impoverish either
the county or the State. It is not
the money we raise and keep at
home that impoverishes us, but the
money we send abroad a fact worth
remembering and considering.
Xo Time to Read.
We dislike very much to hear a
laboring man say he doesn't have
time to read, because nine times out
of ten we know he utters a false
hood when he says it, anefnine out
of ten of the men who have no time
to read spend their evenings loafing '
on the street or -around trie beer
counter and billiard table. The cases
are very rare, indeed, where a man
has not time to read one or even -'
three or four weekly papers each
week if he wants to. It is because
he has not interest enough in his '
own welfare to lead and post himself
on the events that are transpiring
for or against him. He is content to
let others do his reading and think
ing for him. The class of men that
claim they do not have time to read
are the curse of the community iu
which they live. They haye no minds
of their own. and, being as ignorant
as a Hottentot, they are "used by the
sharpers of their town and neigh- -borhood
to help them carry out
schemes to thwart the will of the
educated and respected citizens.
The man who doesn't have time to
read is usually a loafer. ; The suc
cessful business man has plenty of
time to read and post nimself on
matters pertaining to his business,
and that is one reason why he is suc
cessful. The educated laboring man
finds plenty of time to read, and
without neglecting his work either.
He is the man whom you will find at
home evenings with his family. The '
nail keg in the corner grocery is nev
er kept warm by him while he lis
tens or tells smutty stories to an ig
norant crowd of gaping loafers. He
who cannot find time to read never
finds time to be a man, but always is
the tool of some man who does read.
When we hear a man say he doesn't
have time to read one paper a week
we always pity his wife and children
to think they have such an indolent.
norant, do-iitttie nusband and
father.
Too Tbin for Him.
"While Johnson was Governor Of
Tennessee he had occasion to com
to Indianapolis, and was the guest
while here of the person referred to
at his private residence, and - natur
ally the latter was anxious the en
tertainment should be- as elaborate
nd complete a3 possible in honor of
his distinguished visitor. In coun
selling with his -wife regarding the
dinner party they were to ..give, he
insisted that the table must be liber
ally supplied with wine,, as Gov.
Johnson was undoubtedly .'accus
tomed to using it, and besides it was
the proper thing to do on such occa
sions. The hostess, who Lad strong
temperance views,- was opposed to
the use of liquor and remonstrated
with her husband over the proposed
innovation. He insisted on it, how
ever, and finally she gave a reluctant
consent. Mr. Johnson came and so
did the dinner hour. When - th
wine was served, he, much to the
surprise of the host, . turned' down,
his glass, saying quite decidedly, "I
never drink wir.e." .There was a
glow of triumph, and vindication in
the eyes of the hostess a3 she looked
at her crestfallen husband, and he
was so preplexed that he could
scarcely proceed with the dinner. In
the evening he' accompanied Mr.
Johnson to the depot to see him oS',
aud while they were walking . about,
awaiting the train Johnson s lid : "I
reiused wine at onr dinner to-day
because I didn't like the stuff. It h
too thin ; but where can we go and
get a drink of good old whiskey V'
A neighboring saloon was selected,
and Johnson poured out a glassful
of whiskey and tossed it off without a
wink. The gentleman who enter
tained him could hardly get home
quick enough fo tell his wife how
their ''total abstainer" had made a
record in a down town groggery.
Indianapolis Letter to Chicago Trib-
l une.