Democratic Sentinel, Volume 4, Number 9, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 April 1880 — Criminals and Citizens. [ARTICLE]

Criminals and Citizens.

Aincudmcnts Nos. 1 and 3 Aioptod-A Scene at the Polls, Criminals and (dozens Offering to Vote and Commantled to stand Aside-.-The Way it Will Work. It is only necessary to give fancy a little rein, keeping within the boundaries of probability, to se.o how the residence and registration amendn enls, if adopted, will affect the- people. Eleetipn day has arrived—the voting place in the ward or precinct is about one square away from the county jail, and on thu direct road to the railroad depot. The sheriff comes along with a beetle-browed, handcuffed thief, on his way to the penitentiary. Passing the voting place, the thief demands of the sheriff to wait a minute, while he exercises the right of suffrage. He claims the right to vote. He steps up to the window ami gives his name—John Smith. He is at once challenged.— “You have been convicted of grand larceny,you rascal,” bays the judge; “you have the handcuffs on, and you are now on your way to the penitentiary. How dare you offer io vote? you villain. Your crime has disfranchised you, and, unless the governor pardons you, you have no right to vote. The law declares that you are disfranchised.” The thief hangs his head. The sheriff says, “move on.” The next man who offers to vote is John Doe, an old citizen, eminently respectable, honest, intelligent, and well-known to the people. He, too, is challenged. “How long have you lived in this township?” queries the judge. “Fifty nine days,” replies Mr. John Doe. “You are disfranchised,” says the judge; the constitution disfranchises you. You should have lived in this township CO days, and since you have missed it one day, you have no more right, to vote than that horse-thief who just moved on to the penitentiary. I want to say to you, Mr. Doe, that in this case the constitution makes no di-tinction, so far as voting is concerned, between your case and that of the horse-thief.” “ Well,”says Mr. Doe,“if I had known that the infernal amendments would operate this way against an honest man and a good citizen—the devil himself might have flew away with them before I would have voted for them. Why, I have lived in this county all my life. I was married in this county; have reared a family of children; three of my sons were in the war; and now, I stand here disfran chised like a horse-thief, because I have l.ved in this township only 59 days—and, to make the matter worse, I voted for the blasted amendments myself.” “Stand aside, Mr. Doe,” ordered the judge, and Mr. Doe took a back seat. The next man who offered to vote was Mr. Richard Roe, a venerable looking man. His hair was white as the driven snow His form was bent. He hadjived in the township and the precinct well on to 50 years. With a tremulous voice he gave his name, and with his wrinkled hand he offered his ballot. At this junotur * a colored vo er, with lips like bacon hams and a nose as flat as if it had been hit with a trip-hammer, sung out: “I challenge dat vote, boss, I doze. We’s gettin’ away wid de white trash, we is, dis time. suah. I challenge ’um boss’ Is dat ole white man registrum—dat’s de question ’fore dis eomstitutionum ballot-box. “Have you registered, Mr. Roe? asked the judge. “No, sir.” “Stand aside, then. You are disfranchised. You can’t vote.” “Can’t vote?” “No, sir. Amendment No. I adopted by the people, disfranchises a man who has not registered. In so far as voting is concerned, Mr. Roe you occupy (he same level as the horse thief who was here a few minutes since. His crime had disfranchised him, aud as you have not registered, you, too, are disfranchised I am soiry for you, Mr. Roe, but it can’t be .helped. You will have to stand aside.” “Dat’s what’s de matter boss.

We’s got de white man down in Indiana. ’Rah fur de exodum.” Mr. Roe moved away. He had voted for 50 years in Indiana, and now in his old age he is compelled to stand aside as a disfranchised ci izen, and ail because he had not registered. • • ♦ —lndianapolis Sentinel. A Scotch gentleman, visiting some friends in England, displayed in conversation such contempt for the memory of England’s most illus rious sons that one of the family resolved to pay him off in his own coin. He therefore took down a steel engrav ing of John Knox which adorned the dining room wall and bung it up in a lightless lumber room. The Scotchman missing the picture, asked what had become of it. ’We no longer consider your reformer worthy of a place here,” said his friend, “therefore we hare hung him up in a dark closet.” You could not have done better,” said the Scotchman. “I consider the situation very appropria'e, for if ever a man could throw light on a dark thing that was the man.”