Local News of the Week.
%‘Sk
.**#*«*»**
John E. Ball of Arkansas City is
here visiting with friends.
G. C. Pyle and family spent the
holidays with relatives at Vanduzer
Van Day of Beekman, La., was
here Monday visiting old friends.
Born, to Mr. and Mrs. Dan Win
bourn, on Friday morning, a big boy
Miss Clara Perritt yisited her
grandmother at New London last
week.
F. W. Mulkey was the guest of
his parents at Lewisville during
Christmas.
Miss Lucile Townsend is home
from a very pleasant visit with
friends in Texas.
Miss Rena McGough of El Dora
do was the guest of Mrs. Tom
Green this week.
J. R. Dunn of Lampaser, Texas,
was here this week the guest of his
brother, T. L., and family.
G. D. Crews of Little Rock was
here this week visiting his sister.
<- Mrs.-W. H. Jeffus.
Edwin Cobb and family were the
guests of his parents at Farmer
ville during the holidays.
Albert Hilliard and wife of Glen
mora. La., are here visiting his
mother. Mrs. L. Hilliard.
W. P. Heard of Bernice, La.,
was the guest of his brother, H. P..
and family here this week.
Miss Lulu Harrington spent sev
eral days with friends and relatives
at Baptrop during the holidays.
A. G. Fish arrived home New
Year's Day from a ten days visit
with his mother at Springfield, 111.
P. M. Knox of Baskin, La., was
here during the holidays visiting
his parents, Mr. and Mrs. J. H.
Kribx. _ ^_
Mrs. T. H. Andrews and daught
er of Dunlap. Texas, are here visit
ing her parents. Mr. and Mrs. W.
R. Dickerson.
SALESMAN WANTED to look
after our interest in Union and ad
jacent counties. Salary or com
mission. Address The Victor Oil
Co., Cleveland, 0.
Estrayed Red and white spot
ted muely heiffer about 3 years old.
Owner can get same at old
McLemore place.
Wood &. Neel.
Dr. L. F. Magee, who has been
the Union Saw Mill Co. physician
here for the past three years, has
circulated a petition as required by
law and has been chosen for an
other two years by 95 per cent of
the men working for the company.
For Rent The Stephenson
place, }\ mile southwest of Huttig.
See A. G. Stephenson,
108 A Street,
Huttig, Ark.
We have round trip tickets to all
local points on sale at this office
and would be glad to sell you round
trip tickets, saving you money by
buying them and at the same time
make a better showing for our sta
tion in this manner. We solicit
your business. D. A. Keasler,
Agent St. L. 1. M. &i S. Ry.
Mrs. R. L. White, who formerly
lived here but who has been con
ducting the Strong hotel at Strong
for some time, has purchased the
same and intends overhauhng it
and making it first class in every
respect. She will appreciate your
patronage any time you are in
Strong. __
A Christmas tree was given by
the Ladies Union Aid society at
the Baptist church at Felsenthal
on Christmas Eve., which was
greatly enjoyed by a church full of
people. Rev C F Medlin made an
address on "How We Should Cele
brate Christmas.” There was a
recitation by the children and a
song by the choir, after which San
ta Claus appeared and gave each
j child in the house candy, fruits and
| a toy or doil.
10c Per Hundred.
Old newspapers for sale
at the News office at 10c
per hundred as long as they
last. Come early as the
supply is limited.
COLDS & LsGRIPPE
5 or 6 doses 6fi(5 will break
my case of Chills & Fever, Colds
& LaGrippe; it acts on the liver
better than Calomel and doe3 not
iripc or sicken. Price 25c.
Asa Ponder, the genial and ac
commodating clerk in the First
National bank here for the past
eighteen months, resigned his po
sition the first of the month and
left forBroken Bow, Okla., to ac
cept the cashiership of the First
National bank at that place. Asa
is a clean young man who made
many friends here that will wish
him success in his new home and
vouch for him to the good citizens
of Broken Bow as being a gentle
man worthy of their confidence.
The Library Board has made a
new ruling regarding the library
which is as follows: One member
of each family desiring to use the
library will be required to pay 50c
each six months in advance which
will entitle the entire
family to the use of library for that
length of time. This rule will be
strictly enforced and every family
which has failed to pay in advance
will be denied the use of the libra
ry. The library will be open every
Friday night from 7 to 8 o'clock
for the excharge of books.
Program Union County Teachers' Association
Junction City. Saturday, January
16. 1915.
1. The ImDortance of Attend
ance at the June Institute or the
Normal that is to take its place.—
Phillip McRae.
2. Some Needed Legislation on
Education. A. L. H. Miller. Dis
cussion. R. Hester.
3. The Value and the Possibili
ties of a County Basket Ball
League.— A. J. Dowis.
4. What is the Best Equipment
for a Rural School and How it May
be Obtained? G. R. Dumas.
5. Is State Uniformity of Text
Books More Desirable than County
Uniformity, and Why?- H. L, Hal
sell.
6. Some Benefits Union Coun
ty May Receive from Having a
County Superintendent W. L.
Brown and J. D. Nash.
7. What is a Method Reader
and the Merit of Method Readers.
Miss Ellie Tatum.
8. Intermediate Grade Prob
lems in Reading and Language and
a Few Suggested Remedies. Miss
Emma Hardy.
9. Is a System of Free Text
Books Practical or Desirable Un
der Present Conditions in Arkan
sas? W. R. Rhode.
10. Business Session.
All teachers are urged to attend
this meeting. Come prepared to
discuss some of the topics. This
is the only way to receive and give
benefit. _
Notice.
The Union Saw Mill Company
will pay $50.00 as a reward to any
! one, not in its employ, who will fur
nish information from which any
Derson shall be convicted of depre
ciating or trespassing upon the tim
ber of said Company.
This 1 st. day of February, 1 906.
Union Saw Mill Co.
By F. W. Scott,
Secy, and Treas
Q\LL°f^
e
QMffiLANDS
/& CHARLES NEVILLE BUCK,
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS
OF SCENES IN THE PLAY
COPYRIGHT IQI3 /4>
W J, v/.-vtt \ AbMPy\MY
SYNUHbIS.
CHAPTER I—On Misery creek, at the
foot of a rock from which he lias fallen,
Sally Miller finds George Lescott, a land,
scape painter, unconscious, and aftei re
viving him, goes for assistance.
CHAPTER H—Samson South and Sail*
taking I-eseott to Samson's home, are met
by Spicer South, head of the family, who
tells them that Jesse Purvy has been shot,
and that Samson is suspected of the
crime. Samson denies it.
CHAPTER Ilb-The shooting of Jesse
Purvy breaks the truce in the Hollman
South feud.
CHAPTER IV—Samson reproves Tama
rack Spicer for telling Sally that Jim
Iloilman is on the trail with bloodhounds
hunting the man who shot Purvy.
But, an hour later, while the boy
was still working Industriously and
the artist was lying on his hack, with
a pipe between his teeth, and his half
closed eyes gazing up contentedly
through the green of overhe- d
branches, their peace was broken by
a guffaw of derisive laughter. Thev
looked up, to find at their backs a semi
circle of scoffing humanity. Lety ott s
impulse was to laugh, for only the
comedy of the situation at the mo
ment struck him. A stage director,
setting a comedy scene with that most
ancient of jests, the gawking of boohs
at some new' eight, could hardly have
improved on this tableau. At the front
stood Tamarack Spicer, the returned
wanderer. His lean wrist was stretched
out of a ragged sleeve all too short, and
his tattered “jimmy” was shoved back
over a face ail a-grin. His eyes were
blood-shot with recent drinking, hut
his manner was in exaggerated and
cumbersome Imitation of a rural mas
ter of ceremonies. At his hack were
the raw-boned men and women and
children of the hills, to the number of
a dozen.
"Ladies and gentle-men,” announced
Tamarack Spicer, in a hiccoughing
Voice, "swing yo’ partners an’ sashay
forward. See the only son of the late
Henry South engaged in his mar ve
ious an' heretofore undiscovered occu
pation of doin’ fancy work. Ladies and
gentlc-men, after this here show ’s
concluded, keep your seats for the con
cert in the. main tent. This here fa
mous performer will favor ye with a
little exhibition of plain an’ fancy
sock-darnin’.”
After the first surprise. Samson had
turned his back on the group. He was
mixing paint at the time and he pro
ceeded to experiment with a fleeting
cloud effect, which would not outlast
the moment. He finished that, and,
reaching for the palette-knife, scraped
his fingers and wiped them on his
trousers’ legs. Then, he deliberately
rose.
Without a word he turned. Tama
rack had begun his harangue afresh.
The boy tossed back the long lock
from his forehead, and then, with
an unexpectedly swift movement,
crouched and leaped. His right fist
shot forward to Tamarack Spicer’s
chattering lips, and they abruptly
ceased to chatter as the teeth were
driven into their flesh. Spicer’s head
snapped bask, and he staggered against
the onlookers, where he stood rocking
on his unsteady legs. His hand swept
instinctively to the sliirt-concealed
“Ye’re a Truce-Bustin’, Murderin’
Bully."
holster, but, before it had connected,
both of Samson’s fists were playing a
terrific tattoo on his face. The in
glorious mastei*of the show dropped,
j and lay groggily trying to rise.
The laughter died as suddenly ns
Tamarack's speech. Samson stepped
back again, and searched the faces of
the group for any lingering sign of
mirth or criticism. There was none.
Every countenance was sober and ex
pressionless, but the boy felt a weight
of unuttered disapproval, and he glared
defiance. One of the older onlookers
spoke up reproachfully.
“Samson, ye hadn’t hardly ought ter
a-done that. He was jest a funnin'
with ye.”
“Git him up on his feet. I’ve got
somethin' ter say ter him." The boy’s
voice was dangerously quiet, it was
his first word. They lilted the falleu
cousin, whose entertainment had gone
astray, and led him forward grumbling,
threatening and sputtering, but evinc
ing no immediate desire to renew hos
tilities.
“Whar liev ye been?” demanded
Samson.
‘‘Tliet's my business,” came the fa
miliar mountain phrase.
“Why wasn't yer hyar when them
dawgs come by? Why was ye the
only South thet runned away, when
they was smellin’ rout.d fer Jesse
Purvy'e assassin?”
“I didn t run away.” Tamarack’s
blood shot eyes flared wickedly. “I
knowed thet ef I stayed round hyar
with them damned Hollmans stickin’
their noses inter our business, I'd hurt
somebody. So. I went over inter the
next county fer a spell. You fellers
Diout be able to take things offen the
Hollmans, but 1 hain't.”
"Tliet's a damned lie,” said Samson,
quietiy. "Ye runned away, an' ye
runned in the water so them daw's
couldn't trail ye—ye done hit because
ye shot them shoots at Jesse Purvy
from the laurel—-because ve're a truce
bustin’. murderin’ bully thet shoots oft
his lace an’ is skeered to fight.” Sam
son paused for breath, and went on
with regained calmness. “I've knowed
all along ye was the man, an' I've kept
quiet because ye’re my kin. If ye're
got anything else ter say, say hit. But.
ef I ever ketches yer talkin’ about me,
or talkin' ter Sally, I'm a-goin’ ter take
ye by the scroff of the neck, an’ drag
>e plumb into Hixon, an’ stick ye in
the jailhouse. An’ I’m a-goin’ ter tell
th * high sheriff that the Souths spits
ye omen their mouths. Take him
away.” The crowd turned and left
the place. When they were gone, Sain
ton seated himself at his easel again,
and picked up his palette.
CHAPTER VI.
Lescott had come to the mountains
anticipating a visit of two weeks. His
accident had resolved him to shorten
it to the nearest day upon which he
felt capable of making the trip out to
the railroad. Yet June had ended;
July had burned the slopes from em
; erald to ruseet-green; August had
i brought purple tops to the irouweed.
1 c.tid atilt he found himself lingering.
And this was true although he recog
nized a growing sentiment of disap
1 proval for himself. In Samson he
j thought he recognized twin gifts; a
I spark of a genius too rare to be al
lowed to flicker out, and a potentiality
for constructive work among his own
people, which needed for its perfec ting
only education and experience.
"Samson.” he suggested one day
when they were alone. "1 want you to
come East. \ou say that gun is your
tool, and that each man must s^ck to
his own. You are in part right, in
part wrong. A man uses any tool bet
ter for understanding other tools. You
have the right to use your brains and.
talents to the full.”
The boy's face was somber In the
intensity of his mental struggle, and
his answer had that sullen ring which
was not really sulleimess at all, but
self-repression.
"I reckon a feller's biggest right is
to stand by his kinfolks. Unc’ Spicer's
gittiu’ old. He’s done been good ter
me. He needs me here.”
“I appreciate that. He will be older
later. You can go now, and come back
to him when he needs you more, if
what 1 urged-meant disloyalty to your
people, 1 could cut out my tongue be
fore 1 argued for it. You must be
lieve me in that. 1 want you to be in
the fullest sense your people’s leader.
I want you to be not only their Sam
son—but their Moses.”
The boy looked up and nodded.
"I reckon ye aims ter be friendly,
all right,” was his conservative re
sponse.
The painter went on earnestly:
“I realize that I am urging things of
which your people disapprove, but it is
only because they misunderstand that
they do disapprove. They are too close,
Samson, to see the purple that moun
tains have when they are far away. 1
want you to go where you can see
the purple. If you are the sort of man
1 think, you won’t be beguiled. You
won’t lose your loyalty. You won't be
ashamed of your people.”
“1 reckon I wouldn’t be ashamed,”
1 said the youth. ”1 reckon there liain’t
no belter folks uowhar.”
“I’m sure of it. There are going to
be sweeping changes in these moun
tains. Conditions here have stood as
I immutably changeless as the lulls
themselves for a hundred years. That
day is at its twilight. I tell you. I
know wiiat I'm talking about. The
stale of Kentucky is looking this way.
The state must develop, and it is here
alone that it can develop. Here are
virgin forests and almost inexhaust
ible coal veins. Capital is turning
from an orange squeezed dry, and cast
ing about for fresher food. Capital lias
seen your hills. Capital is inevitable,
relentless, oninipott nt. Where it comes,
it makes its laws. Conditions that
have existed undisturbed will vanish.
The law of the feud, which militia and
courts have not been able to abate,
will vanish belore capital’s breath like
the mists when ike sun strikes them.
Unless you learn to ride the waves
which will presently sweep over your
country, you and your people will go
under. You may not realize It, but
that is true. It is written."
The boy had listened intently, but at
the end he smiled, and in his expres
sion was something of the soldier who
scents battle, not without welcome.
"I reckon if these here fellers air
a-comin' up here ter run things, an’
drowned out my folks, hit's a right
good reason fer me ter stay here—an'
help my folks.”
“By staying here, you can’t help
them. It won’t be work for guns, but
for brains. By going away and com
. ing back armed with knowledge, you
I can save them. You will know' how to
play the game.’’
"I reckon they won’t git our land,
ner our timber, ner our coal, without
we wants ter sell hit. 1 reckon ef they
tries thet, guns will come in handy.
Things has stood here like they is now,
fer a hundred years. 1 reckon we kin
keep ’em that-away fer a spell longer.”
But it was evident that Samson was
, arguing against his own belief; that he
was trying to bolster up his resolu
tion and impeached loyalty, and that
at heart he was sick to be up and go
ing to a world which did not despise
“eddication.” After a little, he waved
his hand vaguely toward “down be
low.”
"Ef 1 went down thar,” he questioned
suddenly and irrelevantly, “would 1
lieV ter cut my ha’r?”
"My dear boy,” laughed Lescott, I
can introduce you in New York studios
to many distinguished gentlemen who
would feel that their heads had been
shorn if they let their locks get as
short as yours. In New York, you
might stroll along Broadway garbed in
turban and a burnouse without great
ly exciting anybody. I think my own
hair is as long as yours.”
“Because,” doggedly declared the
mountaineer, “I wouldn’t allow nobody
ter make me cut my ha’r.”
"Why?” questioned Lescott, amused
at the stubborn inflection.
"I don’t hardly know why—” He
paused, then admitted with a glare as
though defying criticism: "Sally likes
hit that-away—an’ I w _.i’t let nobody
dictate ter me, that’s all.”
The leaven was working, and one
night Samson announced to his uncle
from the doorstep that he was “study
in' erbout goin’ away fer a spell, an’
seein’ the world.”
The old man laid down his pipe. He
cast a reproachful glance at the
painter, which- said clearly, though
without words:
‘‘1 have opened my home to you and
offered you what 1 had. yet in my old
age you take away my mainstay.”
”1 'lowed you was a-studyin' erbout
tin t. Samson." he said, at last. “l’v€
I done iher cost ler ye 1 Itnowed.
kinder 'lowed thet from now on ye'd do
the same fer me. J’m gittin’ along' in
years right smart. . .
•'I'nele Spicer,” interrupted the boy,
“1 reckon ye knows thet any time 3’e
needed me I'd come back.”
The old man's face hardened.
“Ef ye goes,” he said, almost sharp
ly. "1 won't never send fer ye. Any
time ye ever wants ter come back, ye
knows ther way. Thar'll be room an’
victuals fer ye hyar.”
“I reckon I mout be a heap more
useful ef 1 knowed more.”
‘T've heerd fellers say that afore. 1
Hit hain't never turned out thet way
with them what has left the mount
ings. Mebby they gets more uoeful,
but they don't git useful ter us. Either
they don't come back at all, or mebby
they comes back full of newfangled no
tions—an’ ashamed of their kinfolks.
Thet's the way, I've noticed, hit gen’
ally turns out.”
Samson scorned to deny that such
might be the case with him, and was
eilcnt. After a time, the old man went
on again in a weary voice, as he bent
down to loosen his brogans and kick
them noisily off on to the floor:
"The Souths hev done looked to ye
a good deal, Samson. They Towed they
could depend on ye. Ye hain't quite
twenty-one yet, an’ I reckon I could
refuse ter let ye sell yer prop'ty. But
Jiar hain't no use tryin’ ter hold a
feller when he wants ter quit. Ye
don't Tow ter go right away, do ye?”
"I hain’t plumb made up my mind
ter go at all,” said the boy, shame
facedly. “But, ef 1 does go, 1 hain't
t.-goin yit. 1 hain’t spoke ter nobody
but you about hit yit.”
Leseott felt reluctant to meet his
I host’s eyes at breakfast the next morn
ing, dreading their reproach, but, if
Spicer South harbored resentment, he
meant to conceal it, after the stoic's
code. There was no hint of constraint
in his cordiality. Leseott felt, however,
that in Samson’s mind was working
the leaven of that unspoken accusa
tion of disloyalty. He resolved to
make a final play, and seek to enlist
Sally in his cause. If Sally’s hero-wor
ship could be made to take the form of
ambition for Samson, she might be
brought to relinquish him for a time,
and urge his going that he might re
turn strengthened. He went down to
tie creek at the hour when he knew
Sally would he making her way thither
I wiih her milk pail, and intercepted her
coming.
As she approached, she was singing,
and the man watched her from the dis
tance. He was a landscape painter and
not a master of genre or portrait. Yet,
he wished that he might, before going,
paint Sally.
"Miss Sally," he began, "I’ve discov
ered something about Samson."
Her blue eyes Hashed ominously.
"Ye can't tell me nothin' 'bout Sam
son,” she dec lared, “withouten hit's
somethin' nice.”
"It's something very nice," the man
reassured her.
“TluiOj ye neqdn’t tell me, becMiee 1
already knows hit,” came her prompt
and confident announcement.
Lescott shook his head, dubiously.
"Sameon Is a genius,” he said.
"What's thet?”
"He has great gifts—great abilities
to become a figure in the world.”
She nodded her head, in prompt and
full corroboration.
“I reckon Samson’ll be the biggest
man in the mountings some day.”
"He ought to be more than that.”
Suspicion at once cast a cloud across
the violet serenity of her eyes.
"What does ye mean?” she de
manded.
“1 mean”—the painter paused a mo
ment, and then said bluntly—“I mean
that I want to take him back with me
to New York.”
The girl eprang to her feet w ith her
chin defiantly high and her brown
hands clenched into tight little fists.
“I Have Opened My Heme to You and
Offered You What I Had, Yet in My
Old Age, You Take Away My Main
stay."
Her bosom heaved convulsively, and
her eyes blazed through tears of anger.
Her face was pale.
"Ye hain’t!” she cried, in a paroxysm
of fear and wrath. "Ye hain't a-goiti’
ter do no sich—no Rich of a damn
thing!" She stamped her foot, and
her whole girlish body, drawn into
rigid uprightness, was a-quiver with
the incarnate spirit of the woman de
fending her home and institutions. For
a moment after that, she could not
speak, but her determined eyes blazed
a declaration of war. It was as though
he had posed her as the Spirit of tho
I Oumberlnnds.
IHe waited until she should be
calmer.
"You don’t understand me Miss
Sally. I'm not trying to take Samson
away from you. If a man should lose
a girl like you, he couldn't gain enough
■ In the -world to mtk« up for It. AH t
want is that he shall have the chain. 9
to make the beet of his life."
"I reckon Samson don't need no
fotched-on help ter make folks ac
knowledge him.”
"Every man nerds his chance He
can be a great painter—but that’s the
least part of it. He can come back
equipped for anything that life offers.
Here, he is wasted.”
"Ye mean”—she put the question
with a hurt quaver in her voice—”.ve>
mean we all hain’t good enough for-;
Samson?’ j
"No. 1 only mean that Samson wants
to grow—and he needs space and new
scenes in which to grow. I want to
take him where he can see more of the
world—not only a littlo section of the
world. Surely, you are not distrustful
of Samson's loyalty? I want him to go
with me for a while, and see life.”
“Don’t ye say hit!” The defiance in
her voice was being pathetically tan
gled up with the tears. She was;
speaking in a transport of grief. "Don’t
ye say hit. Take anybody else—take
’em all down thar, but leave us Sam
son. We needs him hyar. We’ve Jest
got ter have Samson hyar.”
She faced him still with quivering
lips, but in another moment, with a
sudden sob, she dropped to the rock,
and buried her face in her crossed
arms. He went over and softly laid,
a hand on her shoulder.
"Miss Sally—” he began.
She suddenly turned on him a tear*,
stained, infuriated face, rtormy with
blazing eyes and wet cheeks and
trembling lips.
"Don't touch me,” she cried; “don’t
ye dare ter touch me! 1 hain’t nothin'
but a gal—but I reckon I could most
tear ye ter pieces. Ye're jest a pizen
snake, anyhow!” Then, she pointed a
tremulous finger off up the road. "Git.
away from hyar,” she commanded. ”1.
don’t never want ter see ye agaiiu.
Ye're tryin' ter steal everything F
loves. Git away, I tells ye!—git away
—begone!”
“Think it over," urged Lescott, quiet
ly. “See if your heart doesn't say I am
Samson's friend—and yours." He
turned, and began making his way
over the rocks; but, before he hadl
gone far. he sat down to reflect upoir
the situation. Certainly, he was not.
augmenting his popularity. A half
hour later, he heard a rustle, and.
turning, saw Sally standing not far off.
She was hesitating at the edge of the
! underbrush, and Lescott read in her
eyes the effort it was costing her to
come forward and apologize.
I “I reckon—I reckon I’ve got ter ask
' yore pardon," she said, slowly and with
labored utterance. He looked up t«.,»
see her standing with her head drool
ing and her fingers nervously pulling a.
, flower to pieces.
"1 reckon 1 hain't a plumb fool. I
knows thet Samson's got a right ter
eddication. Anyhow, I knows he wants
hitr_'
CONTINUED M NhXl ISSUE.
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