Newspapers / The Carolina Union Farmer … / Feb. 29, 1912, edition 1 / Page 3
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Thursday, February 29, 1912. Rural Letter Carriers Department. Officers: THE CAROLINA UNION FARMER B Prfssident, C. H. Howard, Lumber Bridge. Vice-President, E. D. PearsAix, Rocky Mt. Secretary, E. ©. D. Beaman, Stantonsburg KXICUTIVB BOARD. M. HAVES, Burlington. PIERCE, Rockjr Mount. W. JACOBS, ReidiYille. HUNT, Ckayinin, Oxford. m ^ 0 the Editor R. E. C. Department, Carolina Union Farmer: In a recent communication to this department our good friend, H. Q. Alexander, makes a strong plea for the rural carriers. As an exponent, and in the name, of that great class of public ser '^^nts, I wish to thank him for his personal interest, but take some ex ception to his zeal. It is a fact, as he says, that the ^wral carrier has much responsibil- ^t.v, and that his expense is probably ^^t of proportion to his salary, but the work is not arduous. It is |uiher pleasant to the carrier who ^ something more than a machine, fie takes an interest in the farming, the schools, the churches, the men, the boys and girls, and the many httle kindnesses which he renders ^I'e met with a responsive spirit. The carrier is not forgotten at Christmas, Thanksgiving, wedding *^’id other occasions, a steaming cup of coffee, a hot baked potato-, ^ruit and melons in their season. In the winter time the carrier '^’ho knows how to protect himself suffers less with cold (in fact he ^ced not suffer at all in this section the country) than the average ^^rmer about his business. This Corning with the mercury standing 30, a hundred and fifty boxes a thousand patrons to serve^ I ^ve read the morning papers, and jogging along eight miles out ''"^Ih a small writing tablet held on h’ght-board in my hand writing contribution with gloves on, ^nd it will be finished when the postoffice is reached. I drive a pair Indian ponies who know their ^^siness, alternating them, and yes terday I arrived at home in time to attend a meeting of stockholders of tile Farmers’ Union Cotton Ware- ^^se at two o’clock. The Doctor says under the rules ^nd rulings, “These men are treat- ^ more like subjects of an ogarchy than free born citizens of ^ great republic.” What awful treatment he has reference to is not clear. They have the right of appeal, the right to organize, the ’§ht to express their opinion, un- ^^Uimeled, at the ballot. They are required to go where, or when. there is danger to life, or to the life or injury of their stock. If on ac count of excessively bitter weather a day is lost, the Department is not prejudiced against the carrier. It i.' no doubt a little galling to a man of spirit (I have felt it) to live' under the civil service rules, but these rules are not for rural mail carriers alone. Many thousands of other government employees are subject to the same rules. Any ob serving man who takes thought knows that it is best that this army of workers should not be permitted to work actively in politics. Some of them would doubtless be dis creet, while many, very many, would “root” for politicians rather than measures. But my friend says “And yet the postoffice department expects these carriers in election years, to line up solidly with the administration seeking re-election;’ and that is where my good friend is more seriously mistaken, or he is him self, in violation of the spirit of the Farmers’ Union, of which he is the honored chief in North Carolina, bidding for votes for the adminis tration (?) not seeking If carriers realized that their liber ties were thus limited, there would be immediately a flood of resigna tions, for we are not slaves, or dumb driven cattle. Unless there is such a requirement, why should one say that the postoffice depart ment expects it? As a matter of fact it is neither required or ex pected. At a postoffice near me there are several carriers lined up, and others that I know over the State, for the administration (?) not seeking re-election—no not “lined up,” but they have, as other carriers, the courage to walk up and express their convictions. Here is the rule: “Persons em ployed as rural carriers, while re taining the right to vote as they please, and to express their opin ions privately on all political sub jects, shall take no active part in political management, or political campaigns.” Carriers are selected on merit alone and not on any con sideration of party affiliation. This is the rule: “No inquiry shall be made as to the political or religious opinions, or affiliations of any eligible, and no recommendation in any way based thereon shall be re ceived, considered, or filed by any officer concerned in making select ions, or appointments.” The Doctor’s “plea for carriers” seems more like a fusilade against the administration seeking re-elect ion. Should the carriers take seri ously what he has written, they would be a stupid lot to remain in the service. Should they take it humorously, they would be in a similar position to a distinguished ONSIDER NOW what it will cost and how much money you will save on your next season’s fertilizer bill if you should buy your Nitrate of Soda and other Farm Chemicals and mix them yourself Your own brand MIXED AT HOME will be better than any patent brand and is sure to have in it just what you want. Book of formulas and full instructions for Home Mixing will be sent FREE OF COST If you will send your name and address on Post Card Dr. WILLIAM S« MYERS, Director of Chilean Propaganda 17 Madison Avenue, New York NO branch offices presidential candidate toward the friend advocating his cause. Cary, N. C. T. Ivey. The Rural Carrier. The rural postman, day by day, goes on his lo'ng and toilsome way, and takes the farmers’ mail; he jogs across the hills and moors and much of hardships he endures for small supply of kale. I’ve seen him driving through the rain, but never knew him to complain or read the riot act; he pushes his tired old nag along and greeted with a cheer ful song the cold wet cataract. I’ve seen him when the blizzard blew. I’ve seen him when the snowstorm snew, but never heard him roar; sc: ene he drives along the trail and leaves the farmer’s green goods mail in tin boxes by the door. I’ve seen him when the roads were rough, and when the raw winds were enough to make a mummy cuss; he jolted o’er the ruts and stones that dislocated all his bones, and never raised a fuss. His wages make a paltry heap, and half of it must go to keep his wagon in re pair, to manicure his trusty bay and keep its stomach full of hay, but he does not despair. I’ve seen no ru ral postman yet who made it his life work to fret and whine about lis lot; when duty calls him to the road, without complaint he takes his load, a Johnny on the spot.— Uncle Walt. Dear Bro. Carriers: After read ing the last Farmer, I was some what disappointed at seeing no “hearing” from any of the brethren —no, not even Jim Hayes. I thought of you all on the 21st. The most disagreeable day I have seen for the past seven years. I was well protected, but the rain came down in misty form and was in puddles under my seat of honor, and all the consolation I could get was, tomorrow will be Geo. Washington’s day, a holiday. So the 22nd came, a nice day, but cold. I spent it pleasantly by visit ing my county town, Burgaw, to pay taxes, etc. “Death and taxes are sure to come,” and of course while on the cars and in the hotels I kept my ear low down to the ground listening to the Senatorial trend and heard some funny tilings that I’d like to relate, but time, space, and other considera tions forbid. Notwjthstanding the terrible winter there have been beautiful bright rifts between the clouds. “Beyond the Alps lie Italy.” This ground hog weather won’t be here always. I hear the blue jays kicking up a racket, maple buds are swelling, and spring is coming some time or other. Our larder has not suifered, we are in the midst of hog killing this week. Sausage, pudding, cheese, scrapple, and one day this week a good pat ron filled my buggy with oysters, fresh from the sound. We had a roast right that night. Some time age just as I was crossing the Northeast river, I saw a curious sight, and on investigation found a luck towing up a small river tug. The captain found him trying to swim across the river, and as he lad no gun he had to go on the Duck’s starboard side and flung all he monkey wrenches and spikes on deck, without killing him. inally he made a lasso of the cable and caught him by the horns. Well the story is not finished yet. That same buck was killed and placed in my buggy and hauled to the cap tain’s home about three miles. He was “male matter” and of course was entitled to the privilege. Any way, I carried home as a present a arge saddle of venison that lasted us a week. How is that Bro. Jim Tayes ? I am enclosing one of “Uncle Walts” best, and will ask the editor to give it space, since it so completely covers the ground and fills the bill, especially on that rainy 21st of February. I am faithfully yours, E. D. Pearsall.
The Carolina Union Farmer (Charlotte, N.C.)
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Feb. 29, 1912, edition 1
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